Picture Unperfect
cw: gender neutral reader, slightly insecure reader, angst, tiniest bit of fluff, reader doesn’t cry, mean frat dude probably, ooc probably
tw: mocking, being made fun of for appearance
well at least until you have the glow-up everyone else seems to be having, or already had, or never needed.
you were so jealous of those people,
and you genuinely never understood how it even came to, that you befriended them.
that they genuinely want to hang out with you in breaks, write you(by their own will, mind you) regularly or ask if you‘d like to go out with them, to a restaurant, expensive ones, your friends seemed to have that money, or amusement parks, or to one of your places.
you were amazed by the fact they simply didn‘t care. they didn’t care that you looked a mess 80% of the time, they didn’t care that you had emotions, that you were more sad and depress at times. your small friend group didn’t care that your room looked how it looked, overlooking the trash mountain by the side of your bed, which you didn‘t have the energy’s to clean up yet.
you were never conventionally attractive. and you never will be, you made peace with that. it was hard, and it still is. every time you come across a reflective surface and catch a peek of yourself you falter, jump at someone you don’t quite recognize. you know those features, all to well, after spending hour standing in front of a mirror, criticizing every wrong placed cell in your body, but they don’t make sense in the way you want them to. your image in your mind is so much different than whatever it is that owlishly blinks back at you.
but after years of yearning to be normal, to look normal, you‘ve come to an agreement with your body and mind, and now you don’t completely hate how you look anymore. it was nice in a way, but it still wasn’t easy.
you felt like you lost so much in your younger years. something you could never recover or catch up on.
conventionally attractive people have it easy, you always thought. sure they might have problems too, but they didn’t wake up with dread, dressing in the biggest and darkest clothes because nothing else felt right on their dirty skin, you always told yourself, in that close mindedness of yours. and that’s okay, somehow this close mindedness brings comfort, just once you only thought of yourself.
conventionally attractive people didn’t have the problem of seeing their friends get pined after left anf right, didn’t have to give advice to a topic they couldn‘t even imagine, and only dream of.
people tend to say ‚your time will come‘ or ‚you will meet someone when you least expect it‘, well…. now you don’t expect it at all anymore, so where is your soulmate? you angrily thought to yourself as a, now ex friend, told you how hard it was to have three people have a crush on her at the same time, because it was so exhausting trying to be nice to them, even if they annoyed her and she only had eyes for one.
‚just block them‘
you once said to which she simply replied
,i don’t want to be mean‘
you stood up and left then and there. your friendship crumbled like ash after. and you never talked again.
romantic interaction and people telling you they like you, romantically or platonically, wasn’t really a thing for you growing up.
one or two friends stayed with you over the years, but the rest you never saw or even talked to anymore.
you often wonder if they think about you as much as you do about them and the way they openly disrespected you and hurt your feelings and you didn’t even get it.
you never had much reassurance growing up that how you looked didn’t matter, that to some people you looked cool, that they wanted to be friends with you because you looked the way you looked.
and that ruined so much for you, most of which you have yet to heal from, yet you’re trying your best.
and then, after you graduated from secondary school, you went off to a technical college. were you met your new friends.
they were so odd and awkward at the beginning. but so were you. you guessed it was destined you got jumbled together into this mess of a group you call friends.
and things finally started to look up. you laughed and cried, shared secrets and insulted each other, it just fit perfectly.
you were oh so greatful to finally find people that you could start to believe, wanted to be friends with you.
even when you started to doubt and ask, they always reassured you, so lovingly, in a way no one else had, you had no other chance than to believe them.
but you have yet to come over the fact that such, ethereal, pretty and handsome people, wanted to be friends, with you, it sounded absurd and made absolutely no sense to you.
all of them were more than just conventionally attractive, and definitely way above ‚over average‘ and they definitely knew, how could they not?
gojo satoru, a tall, white haired dude with big blue eyes was the heartthrob of the school. wearing sunglasses all the time, his laid back and nonchalant personality made him even more popular with everyone but the teachers.
geto suguru was more toned down, a calm and collected individual, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as much of a menace as satoru. his long hair, done in an attractive loose man-bun most of the time, helped bring across his put together yet relaxed persona. and slightly slanted and ever narrowed eyes that gave him such an alluring look that had everyone swooning in secret.
(he even had tunnels, a feature you shared, which made you even more happy, his were just a bit smaller than yours)
and last but not least, shoko leiri, an ever tired, chain smoking woman. her brown hair suited her well, and while controversial, so did her dark circles, it gave her such character you couldn’t even begin to describe. when you looked at her, everything just clicked into place and made sense. having smoker parents yourself, her scent was comforting, oddly enough, mixed with her cherry scented lipgloss (she sometimes shares it with you).
and then there was you… you knew how you looked like, and that’s the exact reason you avoid looking at yourself in group pictures. it was a sweet gesture of them, of course, and you appreciated not being left out, but you simply couldn’t stand seeing yourself next to them. so out of place, so happy yet, it almost disgusted you, you disgusted yourself for ruining such a pretty photo once again.
‚aww, it looks so cute!‘
you excitedly tell your friends as they show you the picture they took of you all while out eating, skillfully ignoring that nauseatingly familiar face, stuffing itself full with food. they don’t notice how you felt, years of covering your disappointment made that possible.
it’s not like you didn’t want them to see or know, because they did, you just… didn’t know how to stop doing it.
if you knew someone, gojo most of the time, took a picture, you took great care in hiding your face, with your hand or a piece of clothing. but sometimes your weren’t fast enough or didn’t notice gojo was taking a picture in the first place. he loved to take those kinds of pictures. and you let him have his fun, admittedly, some of them were really funny and made you laugh aswell, but you‘d never tell them that… they‘d never let you live it down.
it was only one time this kind of escalated into something ugly…
———————————————————————
„oh my god, i look disgusting in this picture..“
„whaaat? no! you look totally cute“
you shot gojo a glare as you continued to look through the plethora of pictures he had taken, physically sick at the way you looked.
it was already evening and the sun just started to set. you and gojo sat on a bench, waiting for geto and shoko to come back from their smoking break. satoru hated the smell and you didn’t smoke anymore so you two always did something else while they killed their lungs.
and today satoru felt like taking pictures, stupid ones that looked ugly no matter how you looked at it, but also some really pretty ones if it wasn’t for you and your little imperfections that only seemed visible to you.
„i’m going to delete them..“
you said, after a lengthy pause and instantly were tackled. gojo put his whole body weight on top of you and reached for his phone, eyes wide and panicked.
„NO YOU‘RE NOT- THOSE PICTURES ARE AMAZING-„
he yelled, or more like whined as he struggled to get ahold of his phone, you kept far away from him. you tried to push him off but to no avail, so you wriggled your way out from beneath him and took some steps back as a precaution.
„nooo- i look awful in these, i’m not gonna let you keep those-..“
you groaned, sidestepping your friends attempt at catching you.
„oh come on, why not? it’s not like anyone is gonna see..“
he tried convincing, stalking closer, eyeing his expensive phone, gripping tightly in your hand.
you faltered a bit, your arm lowering slightly, easily convinced.
„alright, okay“
you sighed out
„but you’re not gonna show anyone else alright? you can send them into the group chat but no showing around..“
you handed him back his phone and he sighed in relief, checking his phone for damage that wasn’t there.
always so quick to exaggerate.
you really hope you could rely on the small chance no one would see.
but alas, you hoped to soon..
days later, in the big break, you sat with suguru, shoko and gojo at a small table at the back of the cafeteria, where you always sat. there was more space for others to sit at but most f the time it was just the four of you.
not today though, some people you didn’t know, but gojo apparently did sat with you for some stupid reason, talking his ear off and taking all his attention.
to say it was awkward would be an understatement. you geto and shoko weren’t quite as extroverted as gojo was, so you didn’t talk, which you were totally okay with, but there were strangers at the table that stared, and talked about topics you didn’t know about. they were loud and unruly, disrespectful and you you could see satoru cringe here and there at something one of the guys said, his phone screen side up layed in front of him, as he played with it impatiently, hoping the guys he knew but really didn’t know would finally leave.
it all happened in a matter of seconds, and gojo received a message, his screen lighting up, showing a dimly lit photo.
it was one from a few days ago, on the bench.
someone stupid and ugly looking sitting right next to him, as if they were on the same level. they shouldn’t even be near him.
thoughts started to crowd their mind, progressively getting worse and worse but you said nothing.
„who is that person with you on that photo?“
one of the guys asked, his voice sounding odd, almost degrading even if he hadn’t said anything bad. you snapped out of your mind, and your eyebrows furrowed. now you felt ashamed.
you could just hope gojo wouldn’t say it wad you, to spare you the embarrassment of being perceived.
„is that your partner?“
another voice called out, less condescending and more curiously before a third voice joined in, grating and mocking tone of voice. it hurt your ears.
„really? you could do better than that, satoru, they look so weird, you can even see their double chin“
the voice laughed, and so did the other’s. all the while your friends already small smile slipped from his face, as now a borderline annoyed expression took it‘s place.
„and such unclear skin“
„and their weight?“
„they look stupid“
„ugly“
„unlovable“
you weren’t quite sure anymore which words your mind made up and which ones were truly spoken, but it mattered little. if you could, you would just love to sink into the ground and never face earth an it’s opponents ever again.
„it doesn’t matter does it?!“
gojo’s uncharacteristically angry voice interrupts, and you were happy it was quiet again.
„how they look doesn’t fucking matter does it? their personality is awesome, unlike yours and they look stunning something you could never achieve, so fuck off..“
it was unusual for gojo to slip out of his happy-go-lucky persona, but this was his friend we‘re talking about, he never held back when it came to his friends.
you didn’t listen what happened after that, leaning onto geto’s shoulder and indulged yourself in your phone, a nice distraction from this escapade.
you knew it didn’t matter, those guys… didn’t matter, but that didn’t make it hurt less. emotions from still open wounds trickled out like cold blood. you took a deep breath as the table got silent again. no one talked. but it wasn’t awkward.
there was just a bitter solemn tension in the air.
you were a bit more reserved after that, quiet and less engaging in silly conversations, and your friends knew to give you a bit of time, they didn’t pity you and kept treating you normally.
but they were a bit more affectionate, especially geto.
gojo kept his distance knowing he was part of the cause, and also because he didn’t know if or how he could apologize.
shoko gave you her silent support, a stable individual you could rely on. and you loved her for that.
it was alright though, you‘ll come around eventually, you always did…