AWEEE

I LOOOOOVVEE cheeky boy shoto💕💕💖💝🤭

"I thought I'd find you here."

You weren't even bothered to check who entered your dorm room, but you knew that clear voice so well.

"Sorry, Shouto," you managed a short reply. You were spread on your bed in your favorite loose shirt and All Might cartoon boxer shorts. The light-colored curtains were drawn open, but the windows were closed, and despite the air conditioning cranked up, it didn't help that today was one of those arid weekend afternoons that made you feel stuffy and heavy and absolutely lazy.

"I sent you a message," Todoroki Shouto, one of the best (and cutest, as your friends remarked) young heroes in the making, who also happened to be your dearest boyfriend, made his way into your dorm room without you even noticing. It was hard to maintain focus when all you could think about was trying to cool down. You felt the bed shift as he sat down beside you.

"Sorry…" You lazily reached for your phone on your bedside drawer. "It's just… Too hot to even move!"

"I see," came a short reply. "Is there anything I can do to ease your discomfort?"

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" You joked, sitting up to meet his gaze before your expression melted into slight confusion. He looked like he was dressed to go out with his light blue dress shirt and dark pants. Regardless, you met his presence with inert excitement. "I'm glad you're here."

Todoroki gave you a small smile before reaching out for your cheek with his right hand, but the coolness of his touch was still a little surprising. Still, you happily sank into his caress despite how chilly his palm was.

"Shouto, w-would you…" You raised your arms and playfully opened and closed your hands. "Would you like to cuddle?"

"Isn't it a little too hot for cuddling?"

A pout graced your face. "N-Not if I'm only hugging your right side!"

"What a selfish girlfriend," he sighed before eventually chuckling in defeat. As though he could refuse such an earnest request from you. "I'll forgive you even though you forgot that we were supposed to go out today."

You froze on the spot and felt your face heat up when he started to unbutton his dress shirt. "O-Oi! Wh-What are you doing?!"

He had an inner shirt, much to your relief, and he made his way beside you, lying down rather comfortably on his back before beckoning you to crash into him as well. He dropped his right arm and patted the light-colored sheets with a rather coy smile on his face.

"Shouto…"

He was still grinning. "Come closer, then. Let's stay cool today."

🌺 Author's note:

This fic is based on Rebecca Mock's art piece with the same title.

This is a rework of a chapter from my old MHA fic collection! I plan on revisiting some of my old work and getting to crosspost them here... eventually! There's just something about a mysterious and reserved guy being coy with his girlfriend... that makes me all giddy!

Apart from being one of my favorite pieces back when I started writing for MHA, I believe this fic happens to be a fan favorite of sorts, too. This was years ago and I gave permission for it to be recorded as an x listener audio fic. You're free to send me a message if you'd like a link to the audio fic!

suna's baby's first word is mama, called out sleepily from your daughter's crib after he puts her down to bed one night.

and suna vows to take that secret with him to the grave.

it's not because he isn't thrilled—and not because it's not exactly what he hoped her first word would be—but rather it's because he's the only one around to hear it, and he knows that it would break your heart to learn you missed that special moment. you're only in the next room, but you're sound asleep curled on the couch with dark circles under your eyes from the exhaustion of taking care of a baby on your own all day long while he's training with the team. before this little hiccup in the regular bedtime routine, rintarou planned to scoop you up into his arms and carry you to bed once he'd gotten his other favourite girl tucked in, but now he's left standing—a little giddy, a little dumbstruck—in the nursery all on his own.

when you come running into the kitchen the next morning with the baby in your arms and the biggest, most breathless smile on your face, and rintarou sees the happy tears glittering along your lash line while you encourage her to say her "first word" again in front of papa, he knows without a doubt he made the right choice.

Shoto let's katsuki get aggressive with him but he knows they're still best of friends and he's good at heart ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

this is so cute to me 😭 todoroki isn't even fazed LMAOOO and bakugou looks so done with him KSJKS. they're literally dating guys!!! omg

I LIVE FOR THISSSS

This is so tsk (my friend) coded

megumi boyfriend texts

masterlist

I started smiling from the beginning 5 lines

INSUFFERABLE

todoroki touya x gn!reader

includes: dabi is a shameless flirt lol. brief dire mention bc he’s a dumbass. you fall for his antics

notes: he’s so. dumb. i hate him lol

Sometimes you envy the students whose professors’ lock their doors as soon as class starts. 

The ones that provide that immediate punishment for the students who don’t care enough to show up on time, not giving them so much as a minute past the beginning of lecture to slip in. If they’re late they miss, it’s nothing more than a product of their carelessness and they deserve it. 

Sadly, your biology professor is not one of those people. 

Which is fine for your peers who rush in only five, ten, hell—even fifteen minutes late. Their hair wet from just getting out of the shower or clothes wrinkled from having just rolled out of their cramped dorm bed because they forgot to set their alarm. You can understand that; empathize with the plague that is eight a.m. classes. 

Who you absolutely cannot empathize with is the guy who sits next to you. The one who walks in not ten, not twenty, no—thirty minutes late at the very least into lecture, and doesn’t give two shits about not being disruptive. Lets the door slam shut behind him and his scuffed combat boots stomp heavily down the aisle and shuffle with an unneeded amount of noise before plopping down in the chair next to you. 

He’s simply insufferable, truly. With his box dye black hair and chipped fingernail polish and the intricate canvas of tattoos that sweeps from his jaw down his arms and disappears somewhere below the ridge of his perfectly carved collar bones that look absolutely—whatever. He’s annoying. That’s the point here. And today is, of course, no different. 

“Hey, dollface,” Dabi smirks as he sits down, then immediately scrapes his chair over to you. You think today is a new record, a whole forty-one minutes late. You wonder why he even bothered to show up at all. 

You don’t address him, not at first. You merely send over a half assed side glance as a form of acknowledgement. That is, until something glimmering catches your eye. (Something that isn’t the piercings or rings you’ve become accustomed to over the past month). 

“Why do you have that?” You half whisper-half hiss at him, staring down at the object twirling around his fingers. 

“What? ‘S just a lighter.” He flicks it open to show you, as if you couldn’t tell before, then snaps it right back shut. 

You roll your eyes, turn your attention back to your professor. Just fifteen more minutes and you’re out of here and far away from him. “Obviously.” You sigh, bounce your leg subtly. “Don’t light that in here.” 

And you don’t think you should really have to say that, and you don’t know why there’s an unease bubbling in your stomach due to his presence—but you do and it’s there. And it only increases as you catch the smirk slicing deeper across his face out of the corner of your eye. 

“Or what?” Dabi questions, scrapes his chair even closer to you, opens the lighter again. “Whatcha gonna do about it, doll?” 

“Seriously don—“ 

“Oops,” he grins, wide and cheeky as his thumb flicks the lighter on. He’s holding it up, like he doesn’t give a shit whether the professor catches him with it or not. Like he has no worry for the trouble it could cause. 

“What’re you—stop that.” You can’t believe him, seriously, and the audacity he has for disregarding basic rules. “If you get caught with that inside you could get fined.” 

“Pfft, please.” And this time it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, scoffing under his breath. “You have to be a student here to get fined.” 

You blink at him. Once, twice. “Huh?” 

“What?” He hums, waves his finger over the flame disinterestedly, not even looking to make sure he doesn’t hold it over it too long and burn himself. “I don’t have to worry about stupid ass fines.” 

“Yeah, but—what do you mean you aren’t a student here?” 

Your lecture is long forgotten, your professor’s voice fading out into static as you stare at the man beside you. That uneasiness in your stomach is twisting, stirring around in a way that’s a little uncomfortable. Because sure, you knew the guy was a little odd. But not being a student? Showing up to your classes all the time? Hanging around campus? What if he’s some sort of creep, or stalker, or— 

“Woah there, sweetheart. It’s not what you’re thinking, I'm not some freak or anything. My dad’s the uni president. I get to sit in on whatever classes I want for free. No need to alert the authorities.” 

Oh. 

Your cheeks heat up, a flush rising so fast as well as the want to hide under the table. Silly you, of course he wouldn’t be some creep. I mean, he might be a tad creepy, but that’s not necessarily a crime. 

(He’d be a cute creep, you think. Then mentally tell yourself to shut up). 

“I wasn’t going to do that,” you huff, still looking at him. You aren’t sure why, but his eyes look particularly blue today; more than normal. Maybe it’s because you’re finally allowing yourself to look, a full proper look at your—sort of—peer. “For the record.” 

“Sure,” Dabi chuckles, leans a little closer to you. His fingers mindlessly play with the necklace dangling around your throat. You don’t know why you let him. “So that wasn’t a total how do I discreetly call 911? expression then?” 

“Definitely not,” you dismiss, tapping your pen to your notebook. “It was a man this guy’s so lame he goes to class in his free time expression.” 

Dabi winces, an exaggerated thing that you hate to admit is a little charming. “Ouch, lame? You wound me, dollface. Right in the heart.” 

“You’ll live.” And it’s minute, a little twitch of your lips before you can catch yourself, but it’s there. And Dabi catches it, pointing a finger annoyingly close to your face. 

“Was that a smile, hm? Did I just make my little doll smile?” He teases, prods his finger into your cheek. If you had any idea where it’d been you might lean forward to bite it off. 

“One,” you tut, pinching his digit between two of your own and pulling it away from your face. “I’m not your doll. And two, not a chance. You’re imagining things.” 

“Oh no no, definitely not,” Dabi presses, devilish tilt to his mouth. “That was a smile. Finally falling for me, that it?” 

“Uhm, excuse me—“ 

“Not now,” the man in front of you cuts off the person’s voice from behind, giving them a cold look, “We’re busy, thanks. Anyways, as I was—“ 

“Sorry, it’s just—“ 

“I said we’re busy,” Dabi grits, brows cutting deep as he snaps his head back over his shoulder. “Or did you not hear me?” 

“I did, but—“ 

“What?!” 

“Their jacket’s on fire.” 

Whatever snark Dabi might’ve wanted to push out at your fellow classmate dissolves immediately as the both of you snap your eyes down. And sure enough, right where Dabi has his lighter open—the one you told him not to light—the edge of your jacket has just caught on fire. 

“Oh shit,” Dabi curses, snapping the lighter shut and tugging it back from your jacket as he watches you frantically pat it out with a sleeve covered hand. 

You’re successful—thank god you don’t burst entirely into flames—but the corner of your jacket (your favorite one, mind you) is now very obviously scorched. Your eyes snap up to meet cerulean blue and what little bit of uneasiness left in your stomach turns into a boiling fit of rage. 

Completely disregarding the lecture (that you admittedly weren’t paying attention to anyways) you shove everything into your bag and get up from your seat to leave. You make your way out of the lecture hall absolutely fuming and don’t miss a single beat as you turn on your heel to yell at the man behind you as soon as the door shuts. 

“You’re absolutely unbearable!” You grouse, jabbing your finger into Dabi’s chest. “Seriously! I can't believe you.” 

“Oh c’mon. ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean to, it was just an accident—“ 

“I told you not to light it. But no,” you groan, and you seriously want to rip your hair out, or punch him, or something. “You just had to act like a tough guy. Mr. Too Cool To Be A Student Here. You lit me on fire!” 

“I didn’t mean to! I said I was sorry!” 

“I don’t care! I could’ve been burnt up in a crisp!” 

“But you weren’t!” He defends. “It's not a big deal.” 

“It is to me, this was my favorite jacket. You know, just because you’re hot and have some big shot dad doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want!” 

“Well obviously, because if I could do whatever I wanted then I'd be doing you!” 

The both of you pause for a moment, catch your breaths through slightly labored pants as you stare at each other. It’s like the gears are turning in both your heads simultaneously, cogs clicking into place and smoke clearing in the workshop. 

“Did you just admit you think I'm hot?” 

“Did you just say you want to do me?” 

A part of you wishes your jacket was still on fire, because at least then you could try to justify that as the reason your cheeks are suddenly burning. You turn your face away from him, adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. You’re thankful you’re the only two in the hallway, or else you’d probably die from embarrassment right now. 

“Well, how ‘bout I make it up to you then?” 

You let your gaze drift back up to meet Dabi’s, staring into tattoo and mascara framed eyes suspiciously. You narrow your vision, tip your head to the side as you watch that shitty (read: thigh clenching) smirk make its way back to his lips. 

“And how do you plan on doing that?” You tense up a little as he takes a step closer to you and digs a pen out of your bag. Then he grips your wrist—gently, despite the firm hold—and scribbles across your palm. 

“I’ll be outside your dorm at eight,” he grins, dropping the pen back into your bag when he’s done. “Wear something hot. ‘N I don’t mean the burnt kind.” 

You shove his shoulder at the remark, glancing down at your palm to see what you’re guessing is his phone number. “Asshole.” 

He simply catches your wrist again, tugs you close enough that he has perfect range to dip down and kiss your cheek. And if you weren’t flushing before you certainly are now, eyes going wide against your will as you watch him let go of you and take backward steps away. He throws you a wink, chuckles when he sees you snap out of it and scoff at him. 

“Insufferable!” You call after him. And you don’t try to hide your smile this time. Don’t try to veil your expressions. 

“Irresistible!” He corrects, sticking his tongue out and making a corny call me gesture with his hand when you flip him off. 

And you wonder if you should wear your scorched jacket tonight simply to spite him. 

That face he did to jogo! 😏

Reblogs are appreciated!!

I DON'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME I FELT LIKE THIS BUT TYSM AUTHOR FOR THIS CHAPTER I WANT TO TATTOO IT ON THE BACK OF MY BRAIN AND REREAD IT FOR THE FIRST TIME MANY MANY TIMES

conspire | 3 | practice

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Fake dating Shouto Todoroki was an absolute whirlwind, but it certainly came with its benefits.

As weeks passed, you found yourself with a compliant test subject and plenty of data for the work you were doing on his support item. You’d confirmed that you could use this work as your submission for your senior project – developing a support item without any input, direction, or critique from a professor – and you’d set to the task with enthusiasm after that.

Shouto caved easily enough to the tests you’d put to him on your first “date” and you’d had way too much fun getting him to freeze and heat things for you, strapping him up in all the nodules and wires as you’d promised. Over the course of a few weeks, you’d analyzed the absolute crap out of the cryogenic structure of his ice crystals and tested the limits of his temperature control to your heart’s content, pleased that the amount of time you were spending together also played into your cover story.

It turned out his quirk worked as you’d suspected, which was incredible. Shouto’s power allowed his body to work like a heat pump, directing thermal energy against the current in which it naturally flowed at will. He used the energy from one side of his body to alternately push energy into or draw energy from the other side of his body, in order to create a temperature gradient strong enough to induce ice or flames.

He was basically like a really good looking, high-powered air conditioner.

The discovery was overwhelming and gave you limitless possibilities as to what kind of support item you could build for him.

The problem was, there were maybe too many options.

Keep reading

I personally prefer car guys over bike guys but bike guys r still so hot😩

ROARING ENGINES — streetracer!dabi x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend, a streetracing!Dabi, invites you to take a ride with him, which ends in an annoyingly teasing makeout session.

WARNINGS: unsafe driving, needy dabi (<3), slightly suggestive, reader is able to fit in dabi’s lap with ease— i apologize for the lack of plus-sized inclusivity; however, i couldn’t pass up this request!! i am a minor. do NOT interact if you are a stricly mdni account.

W/C: 1.7k

A/N: oh. my days. i love this so bad. I LOVE THIS SO BAD!!!! this was an amazing experience. one of the scenes in this fic was inspired by this scene in fast n furious. UGH. love. anywho, requested by @sepptember , proofread by @ikn9wyou!! follow auggie and alani. they have wonderful ideas.

Your boyfriend wasn’t one for showing off— he was reserved. Didn’t care for most people’s opinions. Unless he was on the road. When Dabi’s speeding down the highway, he wants everyone to hear. Especially you.

You were sitting on your apartment couch, the blue light from the TV shining on your face. You weren’t really even watching the show that was on, moreso doom scrolling through various apps— opening and closing them as though they were a fridge and you were hoping more food would magically appear.

Unfortunately, nothing caught your eye.

You let out a loud sigh, changing positions so you were laying down now. That’s when you heard it.

An engine revved from outside of your apartment complex, loud enough to make you wince at the sound. Then, you got a text.

Butterflies formed in your stomach— an often occurrence when it came to Dabi. Despite him literally being your boyfriend, he never failed to make your stomach do cartwheels any time you even thought about being around him. Your thumbs hovered over your phone, thinking about what to say.

Within seconds, the man hearted your message, as if he was waiting on the chat for you to respond. Your heart fluttered as you shot up from your spot on the couch, rushing to your bedroom to find something to wear.

After an eternity of searching and creating a mess of clothes on your floor, you had found the perfect outfit. You grabbed your phone and left your apartment, locking the door on your way out.

The elevator ride down to the first floor felt 50 years longer than normal— which was both good and bad; good because you got time to calm your stupid nerves, and bad because you didn’t want to wait to see your boyfriend any longer. As soon as you heard the “ding!”, indicating that the elevator had reached the bottom floor, you practically charged out of the building, looking for Dabi’s car.

There it was, the navy blue Camaro ZL1– bass bumping and engine roaring. That was definitely him. You hurried to the passenger door. Dabi rolled down his tinted windows. His cyan eyes seemingly glowed in the streetlight and you swore you were being seduced.

“Gonna get in?” His slightly raspy voice broke the silence.

You carefully opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Dabi looked at you, awaiting something. You gave him a slightly confused look, likely muddied by the darkness of the night.

“Well? Where’s my kiss, huh?” He asked you, a hint of impatience sewn into his tone. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He huffed, apparently not satisfied.

“What was that about?” You asked him.

“Nothin’.” The white haired man brushed it off and tossed you his phone. “You’re on aux.” He told you, you put on one of your favorite playlists— one that consisted of erotic songs. When you pressed the shuffle button, Poison by Brent Faiyaz began playing.

As the song began, Dabi shifted gears from neutral to drive and carefully pulled away from the cramped street.

His caution didn’t last long, though. As soon as he was out of the packed road, he sped up. His engine revved loudly as he did so and he moved his hand from the stick shift to the knob of the radio. He turned the knob to the right, making the music louder. After adjusting it to his liking, he rested his free hand on your thigh. His other was controlling the wheel, though his attention wasn’t fully on it. He was occupied with you. He watched as you hung your head slightly out of the open window, wind blowing your hair out of your face and giving him a perfect view of your features.

How can a singular human being be so flawless?

The man was enamored by you. In his eyes, you were a spectacle. A trophy that he, somehow, had won. And goddamn, was he proud of his trophy.

You looked to see him staring right back at you, making butterflies erupt yet again. In order to hide your fluster, you snapped your fingers at him.

“Eyes back on the road, Dabi.” He hummed in response and looked forward. You faced towards the window again, feeling the cool air on your cheeks. Dabi sped up as the song ended and the next one played. Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji.

As the engine of his car became white noise, you asked Dabi where you were going.

“Dunno,” He said nonchalantly. “Just driving.” You couldn’t help but smile at Dabi’s voice. You’d play it on repeat if you could.

You began singing along to the radio, making Dabi chuckle. He joined in quietly, unintentionally harmonizing with you.

“Can’t you see? I don’t want to slow dance,” The two of you sang. “In the dark.”

The song continued and you two made conversation, talking about your days and how the two of you missed each other.

“Sorry ‘m so busy, babe.” He apologized. “A lot’s going on with the League right now.” You accepted his apology, because truthfully, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, with you, in this moment.

The conversation carried on for another 20 minutes, and by now, you were out of the city. Flat, dark farmland stretched out as far as the eye could see. You looked up at the sky from your window— without the light pollution, everything was darker, causing the stars to shine brighter. You stared in awe for a moment at the gorgeous things, mesmerized.

Dabi, finally out of city limits, sped up to 160. You could feel your stomach drop as he sped up. You rolled your window up and said, “Dabi, slow down.” The man smirked.

“Why, ya scared?” He sped up to 180 in a matter of seconds.

“Yes, I am!” You retorted. He pouted mockingly.

“Awh, poor thing.” 185. You smack his arm lightly, making him laugh once more. He finally slowed down. Then, he patted his lap, confusing you slightly. “Well? C’mon.”

“Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him. “While you’re driving?”

“What??” He asks, trying to sound innocent. “I mean it. C’mere.” His eyes were still fixated on the road.

Slightly awkwardly, you crawled over the center console and into his lap— your back was against the door and your head facing his. You smelled his cologne, a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

Playfully, you dug your nose into the crook of his neck, trying to breathe in all of his scent. He smiled. “You’re ticklin’ me, Y/N.”

“I can’t help it,” you said with your head still buried. “You smell so good!” Another laugh was shared and it was quiet for the moment, the two of you relishing in one another’s peace. That’s when you got your grand idea.

You were going to tease him.

You planted a light kiss on his collarbone, and then another on his neck, and then another on his jaw. You continued this pattern for a minute or two, giving all of your attention to his neck and jaw. Once you seemed to be done, he looked down owards you, expecting you to kiss his lips, but you didn't. Instead, you kissed his cheek and went back to breathing in his scent.

“Y/N.” He said quietly.

“Hm?”

“My lips.” It was as if he thought you forgot, as if he was reminding you; you didn’t forget, though. You smiled semi-mischievously, realizing he hadn’t picked up on your teasing.

You looked up at him again and acted as though you were going to kiss him. To catch him off guard, you paused right before you did so and pecked the corner of his mouth. His face morphed from content to annoyance.

“What?” You tried to sound pure and innocent, as if you didn’t know what you were doing.

“You know what. Kiss my lips.” You couldn’t hide your smirk as he spoke. He almost sounded needy, like he had to have you kiss his lips. You pretended to think for a second. Then, you kissed the corner of his mouth again. He leaned into you this time, trying to make you kiss his lips, but to no avail. You dodged his efforts and continued to pepper smooches everywhere but his mouth.

Dabi groaned, eyeing you with an even more annoyed look than before.

“I don’t want to beg, Y/N, kiss my lips.” He almost demanded. “Not my neck, not my cheek, my lips.” You let out a laugh.

“But it’s so fun when you beg!”

“It’s not fun for me..” He grumbled. You almost felt bad, like you were actually doing something wrong by not kissing him on the mouth— not that that would stop you. When you wanted to do something, you were determined. And that something just so happened to be riling up your boyfriend.

So, you continued kissing him, getting ever so close to his mouth just to pull away at the last second. You could tell Dabi was getting frustrated, and that just made the experience all the more enjoyable. After a few more failed attempts of trying to make out with you, Dabi sighed loudly and sped up his vehicle once again.

“You are such a brat.” He hissed. “Stop teasing me.”

“Why? Is it working?”

“No— ‘ts not working. Cut it out.” Dabi denied.

“Seems like it is..” You mumbled to yourself.

“Only thing it’s doing is pissing me off.” You smiled smugly and cupped his face in your hand.

“Awh, I’m sorry baby.” You mocked his tone from earlier. Finally, you slowly kissed his lips, this time not pulling away.

Dabi leaned into you, perhaps more needily than he intended. He was starving for your touch. Your soft lips on his. His tongue easily slid into your mouth, intertwining with yours.

This man was yearning for you. You knew he wanted you, but damn, you didn’t know he wanted you this badly.

Your hands ran through Dabi’s surprisingly soft hair, massaging his scalp slightly. He was upset he couldn’t give you all of his undivided attention, what with also having to focus on the road. So, he did what any horny guy would do. He pulled over to the side of the road and effortlessly shifted your hips so now you were straddling him.

“Think it’s time to get you back for what you did, love.” He sighed almost maliciously. You were in for a ride, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

🏷️’s : @rueclfer , @seneon !

Fully believe that when Touya has a baby, it just makes him hate his dad more. Like he thought he already hated his dad, but holding his child for the first time made him double down to a new level of hate.

Because how could you look at this little being that is half of yourself and half of the person you love most, that is so helpless without you, that looks up at you with such innocence and joy and love….and then project all of your self loathing and ambition onto them. To the point of feeling nothing when you verbally, emotionally, and physical abuse them. How can you feel anything but wonder and love and a desperate need to protect.

Looking into his hours old baby’s face, and feeling its tiny fingers curl around his finger…he hates his father all the more.