If any of y'all contributed in @118sexen's hate, fuck you. There is no possible excuse for someone's possible death. I hope that she's alive, so fucking badly, and I feel like a horrible person for not having been there in time to help her. But if she's not, there is no explanation that will justify for Melody's death.
I didn't know her for long, and I hope I can know her for longer, but I know she was amazing, funny, nice, caring, kind, and so much more. And yet y'all insulted her, misgendered her, and dog piled on her because she supported transmascs and enbies on a post about transfems???? That's bullshit. She deserved better. She deserves better. So much fucking better.
Y'all complain about Twitter's media literacy, and about how the people there are horrible, and yet apparently hundreds of people think it's still okay to give a CHILD multiple panic attacks and make her feel like it's her fault for everything.
And yet none of the people who contributed in this one-sided hatred, in this mob directed towards a MINOR (how many times do I have to emphasise this), will take a step forwards and apologise. Because why would you? It's a child who you never knew, so why should you care if you caused her death?
And if she is alive (which god I fucking hope she is, so fucking bad), I know people are going to keep getting mad at her for "pretending" or for "not going through with it". That is not what a good person does. That's what a horrible person with a death wish towards someone innocent does, and there's no fucking excuse. Fuck you.
Any excuses will be blocked on sight, you're not a Knight in shining armor, you're an angry mob who caused the death of a good person.
I pray that Melody is alive and that she's safe, but if she's not, may she rest in peace. I love you Melody. You're amazing. I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more for you.
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Bakugou asks you to join him during one of his photoshoots for a pro hero campaign. he doesn’t understand the point of it, nor why he has to only be in his underwear, but he doesn’t mind it much when he gets to look over to your shy little face.
you’re propped up in a corner on an old couch, laptop perched in your lap, its glare bright despite the way you never really look at it. you’re supposed to be catching up on some work, but you’ve been distracted by the glorious sight that is the love of your life.
when he looks at you, do you duck down, eyes suddenly focused on your screen again. it only makes him smile a little, step away from the assistant of the photographer who comes up to him, calls out your name.
“Huh?” your head whips up with a quickness neither of you expect, goes to show just how invested you really were with your work. but Bakugou only grins at you now, jerking his chin over to you as he grabs the bottle of oil the assistant was trying to pour over him.
“C’mere and gimme a hand, won’t ya?” he asks you, boyish smile gracing his face as he tilts his head at you. immediately, your face warms as you put together the request that’s suddenly dropped in your lap. everyone in the studio looks at you, with both envious and excited gazes, and it only makes you shrink in on yourself.
“I hate you.” you mutter under your breath when you finally rise up from your place on the couch, which he somehow hears. but Bakugou only laughs at you, grabs you by the waist when you’re close enough to kiss you breathless in front of everybody, before he’s handing off the oil to you.
“Such an attention whore,” you whisper when you’re close, the air between the two of you thick. everyone tries to look away, give you guys a bit of privacy, but it’s hard when such a soft and amused look passes over the usually rough and hardened hero’s face.
“Only for your attention.” he grunts back to you, holding his arms out for you to start dripping the oil down his skin. it’s a sensual gesture, the softness between you two sliding into something more, something that you only ever reserve for the bedroom.
you tip the bottle over his shoulders until it drips down his chest, massaging it all in with your hands in crude, circular motions. you can see the way he bites his lip, ignore the way he looks at you down the bridge of his nose lest you two create a scene not meant for the public eye. you gather more oil, warm it between your palms, kneeling in front of him to help massage it into the defined muscles of his stomach.
you ignore the twitch in front of you, swallowing thickly, glancing up to Bakugou who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet. you mouth at him to behave, but he only grins, something feral.
“We only need it above the waistband.” the photographer suddenly calls out, snapping you back to attention. you stand on shaky knees, nodding with your eyes casted low, ashamed, that your freak of a man had you doing something so…so—
“Go wait in my dressing room, yeah?” Bakugou asks you, pulling you in close to peck at the corner of your mouth. “Gonna wrap this shit up.” he promises you, and you can only nod silently, mind going a mile a minute. but before you go, you remember to grab the oil. just in case.
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