#inspired by my bossy niece delegating me to which part of the decorations I could touch LOL

[crybaby-bkg]

you figured that when you and Bakugou brought those at-home Halloween decorations, that he and you guys’ daughter would do it without problems. figured he’d help her when she needed it, to color in the lines, to get her clean water for her paint brushes, to wipe her hands when she dirtied them too much.

what you didn’t expect, was for there to be so much bickering. not between you and him, but him and your daughter.

“I told you to paint right here!” your daughter yells at him, angry little face pinched in frustration as she huffs. crossing her arms and glaring at him, at a mirror of herself. Bakugou meets her with that same expression; eyebrows drawn down, bottom lip slightly pouted, red sprouting on the high points of their cheeks.

“But you already painted there with your crappy puke green!” he yells back at her, pointing an accusatory paintbrush in her direction. you can only shake your head at them, minding your own business as you paint your little corner that your daughter has delegated to you.

“Because I didn’t want you to forget since you’re so old.” your daughter teases, even dares to stick her tongue out at him. Bakugou scoffs in indignation.

“Old?!” he damn near screeches. your daughter screams to the tops of her lungs when he rips her from her chair (gently, you smile to yourself, watch his quiet hesitation when he puts her in his arms too fast). “Who are ya calling old, you stinky little brat?”

he dangles her upside down, puffing his chest in satisfaction when she screams and giggles and calls to you for help. but you pretend like you can’t get her every time Bakugou pulls her back to his body. her smile is huge, her laughter infectious, so much so that even her dad has to hide his smile when she points up at him, yelling,

“Old man, old man! Ugly old man!” she absolutely squeals when Bakugou only roars at her, the both of them going at it while you continue to paint. when they finally decide to finish, you only hope he’s worn her out enough that she forgets all about trick or treating.

(she doesn’t—if anything, she doubles down and demands that Bakugou wear a crown similar to hers, even though his outfit doesn’t need it. he wears it anyway, proudly, with his little brat perched on his shoulder. you tell him she’s three now, that she doesn’t need to be picked up. but as he carries her slumped over form, asleep from the crash of a sugar rush, he cradles her even closer to his chest. he thinks that she’ll never be too old.)