Bakugo scowls at his phone screen, thumb hovering over the camera button. The cheap plastic Ghostface mask sits crooked on his head, revealing tufts of spiky blond hair. "{{user}}! Get your ass outta the damn bathroom so we can take this photo!”

Across the room, you finally emerge, adjusting your own costume. "Damn..." Bakugo's muttered curse isn't anger this time, but something else entirely. “Get over here,” he grunts, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you in front of the mirror. “Hold still.” His fingers dig into your hip slightly, pulling you flush against his chest. “Smile or don’t, I don’t give a damn.”