Hello, excuse me, look, I don't know if you've already done one of these, but if you haven't, could you do one where the reader is an artist, where she has a very simple art style, but her art teacher He ends up insulting her by saying that her drawings are ugly and that she doesn't know how to draw, then he ends up tearing up one of her drawings. After returning home could do what the men of Lookism Could you do something to cheer her up since she's very sad? Gun and the Goo And James Lee e Jaegyeon But if you can't, that's okay.(â âżâ ^â âżâ ^â )
Omg this made me cry because I have dealt with such asshole art teachers đ¤˘
When you told Gun what happened, he listened patiently, never interrupting once. He even rubbed your back a few times as you paused mid-sentence, drowning in the embarrassment of it all especially since it had happened in front of your entire class.
When you finally finished, he handed you a glass of water and said bluntly, âThe truth is, the world only cares about results.â
Your face immediately fell. Of course comfort wasnât his thing.
âBut,â he continued, ânot everyone has an eye for talent. If you believe in your heart it was good enough, then it was good enough. These teachers... theyâre just oldtimers who want students to be obedient pawns. They donât want anyone stepping out of line. Donât dwell on it too much.â
And that day, he tried cooking for a change. Your favorite dish, no less. The same one he always scoffed at for being âunhealthy.â But for once, he said, âSometimes itâs okay.â
âYou think the education system is a sham?â you asked.
âThatâs why you flunked your GED as an act of rebellion.â
You burst out laughing at his reactionâbecause a baffled Gun was rare. So you laughed even harder. He didnât mind though. Your mood had lifted, and that was enough for him.
Quietly, he slipped a few vegetables onto your plate when you werenât looking.
âSweetheart, I told you not to listen to them. And I told you I have every right to kill them, didnât I?â
Goo, in all his clownery and chaos, was a man of few words when something was seriously wrong. When he came home and found you looking melancholic, he knew instantly. You tried dodging his questions, but when he cupped your face with quiet concern and softly asked what was wrong, you broke down.
Because dammit, art is art. Whether simple or advanced, who decides what's worthy? That teacher had no right to humiliate you, and honestly, you wanted to punch him but also didnât want to get expelled.
âYou know me,â Goo murmured, holding you close, running his hand gently along your back. âWe could hide the body. No one would even find out. Donât trust your man this much.â
âNo, donât go for the kill.â
He paused, but his grip on you never loosened.
âMaybe we should slowly torture him instead.â
âYes, thatâs more like it, honeybun,â he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead already planning. Maybe he should get Kouji on board too.
You were picking at your food, barely eating even half of what you usually do. It didnât go unnoticed.
âDo you not feel like eating?â he asked, watching you carefully.
âNo, itâs more like I donât have the appetite⌠Oh, come to think of it, I think Iâm done for now,â you replied, forcing a smile. But of course, it didnât fool him.
âWhat happened?â he asked, more firmly this time.
You shrugged. âItâs just college stuff. Something trivial.â
He cut you off mid-sentence. âIf itâs bothering you enough to kill your appetite, then itâs not trivial.â
That frustrated you. Even if you explained it, what would be the point? He was always brilliant at drawing, even in high school. Still, you told him anyway.
âJames, I know youâll probably agree with the teacher. I get it. Anyway⌠thatâs what happened.â You tried to sound calm, even though it still stung. Those people who preach âsimplicity is sophisticationâ ripped your work apart like you had committed some kind of crime.
You got up to leave, but he suddenly pulled you into him. You struggled against his hold.
âI donât want pity. Let me go,â you muttered.
âWho says Iâm pitying you?â he replied calmly. âItâs true...whatever I say might not fix anything. But what your teacher did was wrong. Donât let those small fries make you question yourself.â
You went still. You didnât return the hug, but you didnât move away either. His arms stayed around you as the tears finally fell. He held you close and gently massaged your scalp, saying nothing more, just staying there, as long as you needed.
Jaegyeon looked like he was ready to storm into your college and personally confront your art teacher.
âWhat the hell? How dare they tear apart your work like that?â he fumed.
You tried to calm him down. âJaegyeon, in this city, finding an art teacher is hard enough. Maybe⌠maybe just let it go.â
But he shook his head, still livid. âI donât care. Nobody gets to mess with you like that.â
Then his expression shifted. He noticed how sad you were really, deeply sad. And in that moment, he reminded himself that your peace came before any revenge. You were the priority. Always.
He saw you trying to hide a small laugh at how seriously he looked like a knight ready for battle. He sat down beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder, his gaze sincere and steady.
âListen⌠whatever anyone says, what you do takes real effort. Even if it looks simple, itâs not. Screw that teacher. Anyone who canât respect a studentâs hard work is nothing but a tyrant. What he did? That was practically criminal.â
You just listened as he continued ranting about artistic justice, the crimes of your teacher, and how amazing you are. Mid sentence, you reached over and pinched his cheek.
âThanks,â you said, smiling softly. âYou really are my hero.â
He blinked, then turned bright red.
But the next second, he pulled you into a tight bear hug. âYouâre the best,â he whispered. âDonât forget it.â