#msjoymaeda

  I’m wondering what ‘discord’ is. I thought it was...

it is a chatting program like skype. but it is also a term for people who rant about stuff they dislike (i think??? i’m not 100% sure)

Heeey, it’s the lovely Joy! I have another submission! This one is for the “Ko comforting an abused reader? Kinda need some comfort” prompt. Small warning for a bit of physical abuse. ~msjoymaeda

Imagine you got into a fight with your parents. It started off as playful banter, but soon escalated into shouting and screaming. Being rather sensitive to screaming, you began to cry. Your father tried to comfort you, but your mother had enough of you crying. She yelled at you to stop crying, raised her hand, and slapped you across the face. Instead of growing quiet, you started to cry harder. You got scared; scared and concerned for your own safety.

You ran upstairs, fearing that your mother is running after you. Your father stopped her before she could chase you. You curled up onto your bed, wrapping a blanket tightly around you and cocooning yourself from the outside world. You reached out for your phone and dialled a random contact. You didn’t care about who you called - you just needed to talk to someone. Hearing a hoarse ‘hello?’ from the other line caused you to burst out sobbing.

The person gasped in shock. “__-_______? Are you okay?” The voice questioned. You recognized it as Nagito’s voice, a boy about one year older than you. You can’t stop sobbing, and almost got to the point where you hyperventilated. “_______, listen to me. It’s going to be okay, I’m right here.” Nagito said. He continued speaking to you in that gentle voice of his, and your breathing slowed down to mellowness.

You sniffed, taking a final deep breath before speaking. “N-Nagito… she hit me again…” you weakly muttered. You brought a hand to your tender cheek, wincing at the feeling of pain from the slightest touch. Your cheek must look rather puffy at this point. Ever since you started adding people you trusted to your contacts, you’ve been talking about the abuse. But, the one you talked to most was Nagito - the boy that most people feared.

Nagito sighed deeply. “Why would she harm you this way? You don’t deserve to be treated that way,” he commented. You nodded softly, blinking your tears away and sniffing again. “Hey, _______. If you want, you can spend the night at my house.” Nagito added. You shook your head. How can you? While his house is only a few blocks away, it was starting to get dark. Your parents are strict about allowing you to spend the night at someone’s on such a short notice.

The both of you were silent for a bit before you spoke up, “O-Okay. Just give me some time to calm down and I’ll be over,” you explained.

Yay, another contribution! After about… how long? Anyway, I plan on doing more of these! This is for, “Hanamura spends all day fixing a special dinner for the reader only for them to refuse it without even trying it. He gets ticked off and it turns out that it’s because they’re insanely allergic to one of the main ingredients.” ~ msjoymaeda

—-

Imagine walking into Hotel Mirai’s restaurant, only to be greeted by the smell of various spices lingering in the air. Curious, you took a step into the restaurant’s main kitchen, poking your head into the doorway. You take notice of Hanamura, the Super High School Level Cook, standing at a stove and watching a pan. His eyes didn’t advert from the sizzling contents within, adding spices as the food continued to cook.

You didn’t want to interrupt his session, so you turned to leave. However, Hanamura acknowledges your presence by the kitchen doorway. “Ah, ______!” He exclaimed, “you arrived just in time. I’ve been preparing this special delicacy specifically for you!” He gazed his attention back to the food, turning off the stove so as to not overcook it.

As you took a seat at a table, Hanamura brought out a plate of the mouth-watering dinner. He placed it in front of you. Upon scanning the food, you frowned. “I can’t eat this,” you commented. Hanamura titled his head in confusion. Someone refused to eat something he cooked? No, it can’t be! What bewildered him even more was that you didn’t even take a bite of it.

“How can you be so sure?” He questioned, “you didn’t even try it,” he added. He scooped up a spoonful of the food, raising it towards your mouth. “Come on, I’m sure you will like it!” He commented. As he brought the spoon closer to your face, you leaned back shaking your head.

You always seem to like my co-”