Work Text:
Shouta Aizawa, age: 15
Running a hand through dark, tangled locks, Shouta winced at the grease coating his hair. He’d tried a new type of hair gel in an attempt to tame his unruly locks, but said gel had only coated everything with a thick layer of grease and made the top of his head look flat while the rest was bushy and curly. Glancing in the mirror, the teen winced again at the sight of his own attire.
If there was anything Shouta knew about Hizashi Yamada, it was that his friend liked bright colors. Loved bright colors. Anything neon or pastel, Hizashi was all over. But Shouta had very little in his closet that could be considered colorful. And he couldn’t exactly raid his mothers’ closet for something to wear on his first date.
His first date.
His first date, which was with Hizashi.
And, really, Hizashi had been surprisingly calm about asking him out. It was… odd.
“So, Sho… You doing anything this Friday night?”
Shouta shrugged. “Studying. I don’t have my internship this weekend. Nanjo-sensei is gone on an undercover mission all week.”
Hizashi nodded seriously, then smiled calmly at Shouta. It was almost… disturbing, his friend’s lack of bright, cheery shrieking.
And then Hizashi said: “How about we go to a movie?”
Shouta shrugged once more. “If Oboro, Nem, and Tensei are down, I guess I’ll go.”
Hizashi licked his lips, a small blush spreading over his cheeks. “I was actually thinking… y’know… that we could go, just us.”
Shouta looked up from his books at that, frowning in confusion at his friend. “Just us?”
“Yeah. Like a… like a date.”
And then, it was Shouta who was blushing. He felt his ears heating up, and he was pretty sure there was steam coming off the top of his head. He definitely felt his hair beginning to levitate, and he fought down his Quirk as to not scare his friend.
Not that Hizashi was scared of his Quirk.
Hizashi was the first to tell him his Quirked eyes were beautiful.
(Which, looking back, probably should have been a tell.)
Shouta opened his mouth once, then closed it, then opened it again. Overall, he did a beautiful imitation of a goldfish. But Hizashi was looking at him expectantly, appearing more and more like a kicked puppy-dog with every stretching moment of silence.
And so Shouta nodded, head nearly banging into his desk as he agreed silently.
“Y-Yeah?” Hizashi stammered, blush growing stronger. “O-Okay, then! It’s a date!”
Which led Shouta to his current predicament.
Finding something to wear.
And doing something with his hair. Kami, it looked like a wet rat’s nest.
A loud knock at the door made Shouta jump, and he quickly pulled off the sweater he’d bought- just for this occasion, for his date- and tossed it on the ground, kicking it aside.
“Y-Yeah?” he called out, hearing his mother Michiko call back:
“You alive in there, Sho?”
“F-Fine, Michi!” Shouta called back, wincing at the loud crack from his voice.
“Ah-huh…” Michiko called back, sounding entirely unconvinced. “Can I come in a minute?”
Shouta looked in the mirror, glaring at his dark hair as if that would make it suddenly fluffy and curly rather than greasy and matted. He really didn’t want his mom to see him like this… That being said, Michiko was good with hair. She cut Shouta’s once or twice, and she sheared her own undercut on a regular basis to keep it crisp. Maybe…
Maybe she could help with this utter clusterfuck.
“Y-Yeah,” Shouta called back, weaker than before.
When Michiko entered the room, Shouta regretted everything immediately. Because Michiko took one look at him, then one look at the bright mustard-yellow sweater he was trying to shove under the bed with his foot, and then grinned at her son like the Cheshire Cat.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Michiko teased, “So you finally asked Hizashi on a date, huh?”
Shouta blustered, his eyes flashing red for a moment, and Michiko threw her head back and laughed. Glaring at his mother, Shouta fought the urge to stomp his foot and instead said, “He- He asked me out…”
“Ah. Makes a bit more sense.” And then, taking in the sight of her pitiful son, Michiko sighed. “Do you want help getting ready?”
“I don’t need help,” Shouta immediately lied.
“I know. I asked if you wanted help,” Michiko replied, leaning down to pull the sweater out from under her son’s foot. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting help, Sho.”
Biting his lower lip, Shouta looked once in the mirror, then once back to his mother. She was wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed off her gorgeous tattoo sleeves, her black hair that glinted blue in the light pulled up into a ponytail to show off her undercut. Neither of his mothers wore a lot of makeup, but Michiko liked to put on winged eyeliner and the occasional black lipstick.
Overall, she looked good. Great, even.
Shouta could learn a thing or two from his mother.
“…Fine,” the teen fought the urge to snap. “Just… nothing too dramatic, okay?”
“Dramatic,” Michiko scoffed, shaking the sweater in front of her son’s face. “You got a gold sweater, and you call me dramatic. Mustard really isn’t your color, sweetie.”
“Shut up, Michi, kami.”
It took a little while- long enough that Shouta was worried about being late to the movie- but he still posed for a picture for Yumi when his mother asked. And when he glanced at the image on his mom’s phone, Shouta had to admit…
He looked good.
Michiko had thrown away the golden sweater all together, telling Shouta seriously, “Hizashi likes you for you, Sho-chan. That’s why he asked you on a date. So dress casual, like you normally do, and you’ll still look good to him.”
Dressed in a fresh pair of charcoal skinny jeans, Shouta wore a collared shirt- one from his school uniform- with a black, oversized sweater on top. Michiko had hung a chain from his belt, claiming it looked “badass” and making Shouta blush, and then gave him a few plain silver chains to wear around his neck. And then, she’d made him turn his head over the sink so she could wash all of the gel out of his hair. She’d then gotten some kind of product- mousse, she’d called it- to put in his hair and had blow-dried it for him with something called a diffuser. (Shouta had to admit, his hair felt and looked better than it ever had before.) And to top it all off, Michiko had applied a thin layer of black eyeliner to his eyes, giving them an even more intense look than usual.
“You look amazing!” Yumi gushed, pinching her son’s cheek and making Shouta whine, “Yuma…”
“Don’t Yuma me,” Yumi giggled. “One more picture, and then I’ll send you off to Hizashi, mm’kay? Pose with Michi for me!”
And, really, after all of Michiko’s help, who was Shouta to say “no” to that?
…
Keigo Yamazawa, age: 16
“P-Pops?” Keigo called from his room, sending a red feather to poke at his father’s shoulder just in case Hizashi didn’t have his hearing aids in.
Feeling the poke of the feather right as he heard his eldest son’s holler, Hizashi turned away from the coffee table that housed several English essays and called back, “What’s up, kiddo?”
“Can you… come here? Please?”
Keigo looked in his full-length mirror, groaning and smacking a hand over his face at his appearance. He’d tried to throw together something nice- a sweater vest, a tie, some slacks- but he just looked like a nerd now. Hearing his Pop’s footsteps come to a halt in front of his bedroom door, Keigo covered his blushing face with both hands, peering at the man through his fingers. Hopefully he could hide some of his embarrassment.
But it seemed not, because Hizashi’s grin was wider than the Nile. The blonde chuckled a bit at his son’s blush, tilting his head and crooning, “Sooo, Kei… You goin’ somewhere nice tonight? Maybe a Spelling Bee? Or a City Council meeting?”
“Is it really that bad?” Keigo asked, voice crackling.
“It’s a little much, sweetheart,” Hizashi admitted solemnly. He crossed the messy room in a few strides, gently dragging Keigo’s hands away from his face by the teen’s wrists. “Hey, bud, what’s going on? You wanna talk to me about it?”
Keigo bit his lower lip, feeling his feathers bristle at the thought. But he had no idea what to wear. He’d tried, and look how that turned out… But his Pops was a fashion icon in the Pro Hero world, even for as horrible as his hair looked in its cockatoo-fashion. Maybe, just maybe, his Pops could actually help…
“IhaveadatewithTouya,” Keigo rushed out in one breath, then froze and waited for the backlash.
But Hizashi merely tilted his head again, looking confused as he pointed to his ears. “Sorry, buddy, I didn’t catch that?”
“I… I h-have a d-date with T…Touya…” Keigo said, feeling his blush begin to creep down his neck, making his skin hot under his collared shirt. “I need- Can you-” Then, making a noise not dissimilar to a boiling tea kettle, Keigo whined, “Help me!”
Hizashi was clearly fighting down laughter, but he quickly saved face by ruffling his son’s hair and speaking sincerely, “Of course, bud. Let’s start with your outfit, hm? And then we can have Dad help with the hair. He’s probably got some products that will make your natural waves look nice…”
His Dad did, indeed, have a product to make Keigo’s natural waves look shiny and casually messy, like he was trying, but not too hard. Shouta had a toothy grin the entire time he’d helped his son fix his hair, but Hizashi finally elbowed the other man enough times to make his grin fade to a smirk.
And when Keigo looked in the mirror once more, he had to admit… His dads did a good job.
A great job, actually.
The teen was wearing dark red jeans, several shades darker than his wings, and a white belt that was just visible beneath his yellow dress shirt. Said dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and he wore a black vest over it, leaving a few buttons undone at the top for a more casual effect. He wore plain black Converse, and there were several gold and silver rings on his fingers. He’d also recently convinced his dads to let him get his ears pierced- and he’d gone all out with the piercings- so he had silver and gold adorning his ears, too.
From his bedroom doorway, Keigo heard sniffling. When he turned, he was horrified to see his Pops crying while his Dad took pictures with his cellphone.
“Oh, Shouta, they grow up so f-fast!” Hizashi bemoaned, half-serious and half-joking. “Kei, you look amazing, buddy!”
“You clean up good, Swan Princess,” Shouta teased, snapping another picture that captured his son reaching for the camera. Shouta manuevered out of the way at the last moment, snapping another picture of Keigo pouting.
“KeiKei?” came a tiny, high-pitched voice. And then Izuku was poking his head out from behind his Pop’s knees, his little hands holding tightly to his stuffed kitten (now more grey than white). “KeiKei!” Izuku chirped happily, feathers fluttering, upon seeing his older brother all dressed up. “You l-look fancy, KeiKei!”
“Fancy, huh?” Keigo teased, all anger at his Dad forgotten as he crouched down to heft his little brother up on his hip. Izuku had been gaining weight recently, which was good, but it made for a bit more heavy-lifting for the teen now. “Hear that, Pops? Dad? I look fancy.”
As Keigo bounced Izuku around, the little boy let loose a string of giggles that made everyone in the room grin. The laughter was infectious, and soon enough, even his Dad was giving a few chuckles.
“Be home by midnight, okay, buddy?” Hizashi told his son, taking Izuku from the teen and kissing Keigo’s forehead. And, really, Keigo couldn’t even be bothered by the affection. He was already on cloud nine, and the date hadn’t even started yet.
“By the way,” Shouta said quietly as he walked his son to the front door, “Who asked who?”
Keigo rubbed the back of his neck with a small grin. “Well, actually…”
“There’s no way we’re thinking about the same thing, Kei,” Touya rolled his eyes as he stole a piece of harumaki off his friend’s plate. “Neither of us are mind-readers, either, so we can’t prove if we are or not.”
“We could say what we’re thinking at the same time,” Keigo offered with a shrug, fighting off his friend’s hand with his chopsticks. “On three, yeah?”
Touya rolled his eyes, but nodded.
“One…”
“Two…”
“Will you go on a date with me?”
“We should go on a date.”
Both boys sat back, staring at each other with wide eyes. It was at that moment that Keigo took in Touya’s appearance seriously for once. He was usually too busy laughing or play-fighting with the other teen to really see Touya’s face, so he took a second to observe.
Touya’s eyes were pale blue, outlined with the dark eyeliner he typically wore. His skin was pale, and there were a few small burn scars here and there. His white hair sat like a dandelion on top of his head, and he had a nose ring and a lip ring that were definitely not dress-code-approved.
He was gorgeous.
Keigo said as much, and Touya’s face turned from pale white to dark red.
“You’re pretty cute yourself, Pretty Bird,” Touya teased back just to watch Keigo’s cheeks turn pink. “So. A date, huh? How about we go to that revolving sushi bar tonight?”
“Rumi’s gonna want to tag along.”
“Rumi can go suck an egg. So… date? Tonight?”
“Yeah,” Keigo replied breathlessly. “Date. Tonight. Yes.”
Shouta chuckled as his son recounted how his date night had come to be.
“You know, Hizashi actually asked me out.”
“Yeah, Dad, we been knew. You’re the epitome of an introvert.”
Shouta rolled his eyes, gently cuffing the back of Keigo’s head- more of a pat than anything else- and smirked as the teenager laughed. “Alright, brat. Like Pops said, be home by midnight. And don’t have too much fun… Aunt Nem gave you the Talk, right?”
“Dad, oh my God-”
Shouta shrugged. “You never know. Be safe, have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“You literally adopted two random kids after meeting them for five seconds.”
“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Go, be off.”
Keigo grinned at his Dad, unable to keep himself from kissing the man’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you too, kid. Now go. Don’t keep Todoroki waiting.”
…
Izuku Yamazawa, age: 14
Izuku had been looking towards this day with growing anxiety for weeks.
But then, he’d asked him.
He’d asked Hitoshi to go to the UA Formal Dance with him- as a date, no less- and Hitoshi had said yes.
Izuku was… was…
Thrilled didn’t even begin to describe it.
He was ecstatic.
Or at least, he had been, leading up until this very moment. This moment, with his Papa’s hands placed proudly on his shoulders as he faced Izuku to the mirror. Izuku took in one glance at himself- noting the gelled-back hair, the tight black jacket and black bowtie on a crisp white shirt- and burst into tears.
Hizashi was, understandably, alarmed. “Hey, hey, Bean! What’s wrong? What’s going on, sweetheart?”
“I- I- I don’t-” Izuku stammered, feeling his heartrate picking up. “I d-d-don’t k-know. Everything just- it feels- it feels wrong, Papa, and I don’t know w-w-why-”
“Alright, kiddo,” Shouta interrupted from the doorway, moving to crouch in front of his youngest son and grab Izuku’s hands in his own. “Deep breaths, Sprout. Deep breaths.”
Izuku did as his father ordered, shakily breathing in before breathing out slowly. He did four breaths in a row, then, holding his breath a little longer, took one final, stable breath.
“Alright, Sprout, how are we feeling, now?”
Izuku glanced back at the mirror, wincing under the feel of hair gel and at the splotchy red marks over his freckled cheeks. “Not- not g-g-great, still, D-Dad…”
Keigo, who was leaning against the doorway of the room, sauntered inward and swept an arm over his little brother’s shoulders, gently shoving their Pops out of the way. “I think I know what’s wrong, Zuzu,” Keigo said with a smile. “I never liked the monkey suits, either.”
“It’s a formal dance!” Hizashi defended, but then faltered when he noticed Izuku’s expression. “Although I suppose a dress shirt and vest could be considered formal as well.”
Keigo shook his head. “A vest doesn’t fit Zuzu’s studious image.”
Izuku, confused, mouthed, “Studious image?” to his Dad, who merely shrugged before standing back up.
Keigo continued on, completely unbothered, “Go wash your hair out, Zuzu, and I’ll get an outfit ready for you!”
Hizashi helped him with his hair, having Izuku put his head beneath the bathtub faucet while he shampooed and conditioned the gel out. And Izuku had to admit, having his Papa wash his hair was pretty relaxing… He felt rather comforted and much more consoled by the time they got out of the restroom.
His Dad smirked proudly at him, ruffling his hair- Hizashi had stolen Shouta’s diffuser and mousse, using that instead of gel for his son, which made Izuku’s unruly mane fluffy and soft- and Keigo gestured widely to Izuku’s bed, whereupon he’d laid out an outfit.
Izuku glanced unsurely at the outfit, not confident as to where his brother had gotten suspenders in his size from, but he took it all in a stride, shuffling his family out so he could get dressed.
As he got dressed, Izuku’s mind flipped through scenario after scenario of what could go wrong that night. And then, he stopped himself short. No, Izuku- do what Inui-san says… Think of what’s already gone right, and it’ll be easier to image what could go right…
And then, he thought of Hitoshi.
Izuku stood proudly next to his friends- Tenya, Hitoshi, and Shoto all flanked him, and Ochako and Tsuyu stood not too far behind. The rest of his class were all cheering and hugging each other, congratulating one another on being the only class to have all of their students pass the Provisional Lisencing Exam.
Giddy laughter bubbled up from Izuku’s throat, and he turned to Hitoshi and gripped the other boy’s elbow, fighting the urge to click his tongue and chirp happily. But then he remembered he was amongst friends- right beside Hitoshi- and he went ahead and did so anyways. Hitoshi’s grin was infectious, and soon enough, even Shoto was smiling.
“We did it!” Izuku cried out, not a hint of a stammer in his voice. “Toshi, Sho, Ten!! We did it!!”
“We did, Green Bean,” Hitoshi nodded, unable to stop smiling.
“We have to celebrate!”
Ochako piped up, “You know that UA is throwing a ball, right? Or- a sort of dance, I think? To celebrate after Exams!”
“Really?!” Izuku cheered, whirling back to face Hitoshi.
In a fit of confidence- the kind of confidence he went into battles and mock fights with, the kind of confidence that only came out when Izuku was distracted from his anxieties and focused on the good in people- Izuku shouted in Hitoshi’s face, “Go to the dance with me!”
Hitoshi absolutely blue-screened, face going slack as his grip on Izuku faltered. “W-What?” he asked, sounding lost.
And all of Izuku’s confidence was suddenly sucked out through his chest.
“I- I m-m-mean- we could go- like- as- as friends or… or s-s-something if you- if you w-w-want-”
And then, Hitoshi’s grin was slowly coming back, and he flicked Izuku’s forehead. “I’d much rather go as your date, Problem Child.”
Izuku squacked. “I am not a Problem Child!”
“Hey, Aizawa-sensei said it first.”
And then, blushing when he realized all of their friends were watching them with bated breaths, Izuku replied, “I’d- I’d like to go with you, too… As a d-date.”
Ochako cheered happily, and Tsuyu plainly said, “Well that’s a relief,” while Shoto watched on fondly and Tenya began getting into the proposed dress-code rules of the upcoming dance.
But, really, Izuku only had eyes and ears for Hitoshi.
Looking at his tableside clock, Izuku realized he’d zoned out for a good five minutes. Blushing, he turned towards his bedroom door and called out, “R-Ready!”
His family took no time in entering his room, and Hizashi looked close to tears when he saw his youngest son.
“Oh, Bean! You look adorable!”
“Adorable wasn’t really the goal, Pops,” Keigo chuckled. “But you look good, kid.”
“Very nice,” Shouta nodded his head.
Izuku turned back towards the mirror and grinned. He was wearing tan slacks with a black shirt, rolled up at the elbows, and emerald green suspenders. His bowtie was undone around his neck, as he always had issues tying it, but it matched his suspenders perfectly. His dress shoes were a deep black that matched his shirt, and- overall- Izuku felt good.
This felt right.
“T-Thanks, Kei,” Izuku blushed as his brother hugged him, putting him in a headlock and digging his knuckles into his scalp.
“Don’t mess up his hair, Keigo!” Hizashi fondly chastised. “Green Bean, how you feeling?”
“A-Awesome!” Izuku chirped back.
Shouta huffed out a breath of air. “Hitoshi’s a good kid. I’m happy for you, Sprout.”
Keigo laughed heartily. “Then why do you sound so pissed, Dad?”
Shouta scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I still think fourteen is too young for-”
“Sho, babe, you were fifteen when we went on our first date.”
Shouta blustered, “Still, Hizashi!”
But Izuku couldn’t help but just laugh.
He had the best family ever.
…
Koharu Yamazawa-Shinso, age: 17
Taking in a shuddering breath, the girl took in the sight of herself in a mirror. Behind her, her Auntie Eri was finishing up the small braid in her coral hair, topping it off with a light blue bow that matched Koharu’s eyes perfectly.
Eri had gone shopping with her niece a few days beforehand, choosing out a beautiful light blue yukata with yellow and pink flowers on it. The band around Koharu’s waist was yellow to match the flowers, and the strap on her zori was pink. She had a small drawstring bag with her to carry her essentials- wallet, provisional hero license, cell phone, and lipgloss.
“You look beautiful, Haru,” Eri said emphatically, flicking the braid that held up half of the girl’s hair. “Daichi won’t know what hit him.”
Suddenly flushed, Koharu whirled around and whispered, “You haven’t told Dad and Papa who I’m going with, right?!”
Eri giggled, rolling her eyes. “Of course not, kiddo. But they’re going to demand to know, anyways.”
“I know, but… maybe I can spare Daichi a little pain.”
After all, the boy had been rather romantic when asking her to go to the festival with him…
With his dark hair falling over even darker eyes, Daichi had his head turned down, face flushed as he asked Koharu to meet him at Ground Beta that evening. Behind him, Setsuko Kaminari and Tatsuo Fumikage were cheering him on rather loudly.
Flushing darkly herself, Koharu nodded wordlessly, hoping that Daichi saw her. Behind her, Koharu could hear her friends- Sumi Iida and Kaede Uraraka- giggling wildly.
It took a few tries, but Koharu eventually shook away from her friends that night as they tried to follow her to Ground Beta. Making her way there, the girl saw Daichi standing in the shadows of the large buildings. And then, he stepped forward, and Koharu couldn’t help but gasp.
Daichi cleaned up good, which should have been expected given his grandmother’s profession or being a fashion designer, but the boy normally wore either his school uniform or gym clothes. Now, he wore a button-down over a plain t-shirt, with ripped jeans and high tops on his lower half. And… had he brushed his hair? Normally Daichi let his spikes go wild, just like his Pops did, but now, the strands were hanging low around his face, still spiky but more controlled.
And he was holding a single red rose.
“Kind of corny, I know,” Daichi blushed darkly, and Koharu was reminded that the boy rarely spoke as much as he had that day. “But… I cut off the thorns and- and watered it and stuff…”
“Daichi,” Koharu said quietly, “why did you ask me to meet-”
“Do you want to go to the New Years’ Festival with me?”
Koharu’s eyes went wide. “W-What?”
“The… the New Year’s Festival,” Daichi repeated. “Do you want to go. With me.”
“Like a… like a date?”
“Yes,” Daichi’s blush deepened. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just thought-”
“Yes!” Koharu exclaimed, embarrassed by her own loudness. “Yes, Daichi, I’d love to go with you.”
Daichi handed her the rose, and they spent the rest of the night stargazing atop a building at Ground Beta.
...So Koharu would like to spare Daichi a little pain, if at all possible.
But it didn’t seem like that would be the case, she thought as she walked down the stairs of their house. Because her Pops and Papa Zawa were both cleaning their knives at the coffee table, in clear view of the front door. On top of that, her Uncle Kei was sharpening his feathers while Uncle Touya flicked a lighter open and closed from his perch on the couch next to her Pops. The only non-traitors were in the kitchen, and they quickly exited upon hearing her come out from her bedroom.
“Oh, Ko-chan!” her father teared up, going to hug her tightly before standing back to take in the sight of her. “You look amazing!”
Papa Zashi grinned, flashing her a thumbs-up before kissing her forehead. “You look stunning, littlest listener!”
“Papa Zashi,” Koharu whined, “I’m not the littlest anymore-”
“Nope! Still the baby,” Hizashi protested with a sly grin. “Sho! Come look at our baby granddaughter! She looks adorable-”
“Papa Zashi-”
Shouta looked up from his knives, his face doing something complicated and twisty. “You look great, Koharu,” he told his granddaughter, standing on his bionic leg (which was another tell, because he didn’t usually wear his Hero-grade leg at home) before coming to stand in front of the girl. “Tell me if this guy fucks up, because I’ll castrate him.”
“Papa Zawa!!”
“Seconded,” her Pops called from the living room, looking up at her with his purple eyes flashing. He, too, came to stand in front of the girl, grinning down at her. “You do look really nice, Koko.”
Koharu couldn’t help but blush at Hitoshi’s praise. “Thanks, Pops.”
And then, there came a knock at the door. Koharu was quick to answer it, trying to keep the door cracked as small as possible as she just stuck her face out. “I’ll be out in a sec, let me grab-”
But then, her Dad was opening the door wider, grinning as he looked down at-
“Daichi Bakugou?!” her Pops blustered, and the room suddenly lit up with noise.
From down the stairs came yet another set of footsteps, her cousin Hotaru appearing as he ran a hand through his red hair blearily, his hands glowing and his wispy wings fluttering behind him. "What’s all the noise for?” he groaned.
Koharu put her face in her hands, bemoaning her family’s antics.
At least she had Eri on her side.
“And if you even think about laying a finger on her before she’s ready, I’ll personally rewind you so far that your Papa doesn’t even remember you-”
Or… maybe not.
But, still, as she grinned into her hands, Koharu thought, I wouldn’t have them any other way.