#like to compare again with the tetanus shot- you get that once every ten years

[likeabxrdinflight]

you know there's probably a lot of factors in why uptake of the covid boosters has been so abysmally low in comparison to the first two doses, but one reason I don't see considered enough is how fucking unpleasant these shots are.

I mean genuinely, I cannot think of another vaccine I've had that is as painful and as side effect heavy as the covid shot. usually it's one or the other. now granted, I also had the flu shot in the same arm, which is probably exacerbating how intensely I'm experiencing these side effects at the moment, but regardless, every time I've had a covid vaccine I've had body aches, fever, and fatigue. Sometimes headache too. And it's like...if it wasn't a saturday I'd have called off sick on account of that. from a vaccine. that's a huge barrier for people who don't have the luxury of taking sick leave to get a shot.

and that's before we even talk about how painful the covid shot is, because I personally think it's worse than the tetanus shot, which is also notoriously bad. now again, this year I had both flu and covid at the same time in the same arm, which isn't helping. but I can tell it's the covid shot that's causing the most pain because that was the shot administered higher in my arm and wouldn't you know it, that's where the pain is worse. it's radiating through my shoulder and armpit even.

like when I say the covid shot feels like somebody took a hammer to my arm I'm not exaggerating. I can barely move it. I can't lay on that side. there's an ever present ache even with taking pain pills. I've broken down a door with this arm and that bruising hurt less. and it is always like this with the covid vaccines- it has consistently been one of if not the most painful shot I've ever had. to do this every year? incapacitate myself and subject myself to it annually? in some ways that's a big ask. and I'm willing to do it, but I can certainly see why some might not be. especially if you work in jobs requiring the use of your arms in some way.

anyway, long story short, I can see why people, having endured these shots at least two or three times already, might be reluctant to go through this every fall. especially if they've had covid (which most of us have by now) and it was fairly mild for them. like for me, covid itself was bad enough that the shot is worth it, but if it just felt like a head cold and nothing more? Well...if you're only thinking of your own benefit, I mean...I can see not wanting to deal with this level of pain. I really can.

my point being, it would benefit everyone if they could find a way to make these shots more tolerable. idk how that would work, I'm not a medical scientist, but there's no two ways around it- covid vaccines are among the most unpleasant shots on the market. that alone makes them a hard annual sell. never mind the rest of the issues.

[betsyandmaxwellandduchessohmy]

can we get headcanons/reactions for a dadsona who's like, The Ernest Whisperer? they get along pretty famously, dadsona is really good at making ernest make better choices without being condescending about it. it's not perfect, but "dude, if you're gonna set fire to that trash can, you need a fuse or you'll blow your eyebrows off" is better than shutting him down or ignoring it altogether. like the mom in mean girls, steerin regina towards the Safer choice.

((I feel like I should say right off the bat; this is not part of the Lemon Boy continuity. There's two more parts to that but this isn't one of them. So Ernest is getting a bunch of love and I adore it. Honestly, Ernest is gonna be doing stupid, dangerous shit anyway, we might as well make sure he’s at least being safe about it. Also I love Ernest channeling his angst through artistic pursuits, so I’m adding it here.))

~~~

Summer had arrived. Amanda had graduated, and the kids of the cul-de-sac were free to their adventures. Which, of course, meant the troublemakers were free to their trouble.

You’d become something of an expert at dealing with the troublemakers, seeing as your daughter could be considered such by certain people, and you yourself had been considered such in your younger years by other certain people who were… probably dead by now, honestly. 

You’d gotten to know all the neighborhood kids pretty well since moving in, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have favorites. All the kids seemed to like you well enough - Craig’s girls invited you to their games from time to time, Joseph’s oldest seemed to have taken an interest in your garden for some reason, and Daisy and Carmensita might favor Amanda over you on any given day, but they were polite and sweet and complimented your cooking, so you weren’t too sore about it. But hands down, you got on with Ernest and Lucien the best. You remembered what it was like to be that age, and you were proud to say you’d managed to get through where others said was impassable. You could tell the boys liked you, even if they refused to admit it. Maybe they could tell that you’d been like them, once upon a time. Trouble begets trouble, after all. It felt like they’d made an unspoken bet to see who could push you further. Who could get you to agree to or help with the most outlandish thing. 

Lucien made you tag along while he did graffiti on the underside of the bridge by the dam. You lent him your spare respirator mask and kept an eye out for police and neighborhood watch.

Ernest found an abandoned factory a little ways from the cul-de-sac, and insisted on going there to fuck around. You managed to casually ask Hugo if Ernest was up to date on his tetanus shots and managed to convince Ernest not to swing from rafters or mess around with any old blades.

Lucien convinced you to give him and his friends a ride to a concert in the next city over. You paid for a last minute ticket and tagged along to make sure they’d be okay, and even managed to get a guy kicked out when you saw him slip something in one of Lucien’s friend’s drinks. 

Ernest roped you into a paintball war in the more wooded area of the park. You supplied face shields and forced disposable rain ponchos over his and his friend’s heads. They didn’t help very much or last very long, but there was slightly less paint on them than there would have been, so it was a win. As was getting the paint stains out of Ernest’s favorite hoodie.

But beyond that - beyond the bet and the games and the stupid dangerous shit you tried to buffer them from, you knew that they trusted you. By this point, Hugo and Damien knew that their kids saw you as someone safe to lean on, and while Damien was simply glad, Hugo was more than a little baffled. You offered him what advice you could, but you knew that sometimes, your dad just felt too close. Hugo was getting the hang of it, but it was easier for you.

When Damien went out of town for the weekend, it was you that Lucien called when he started feeling unsafe at the house party he’d gone to.

When Ernest’s friends ditched him when they ran from the cops, he called you to come get him from the alley he’d hidden himself in.

Every time, you made sure they weren’t hurt. You made sure they weren’t scared. You promised not to tell their dads. You took them out for ice cream or greasy all-night diner food. And you brought them home.

You were accustomed to the boys deciding that doing stupid shit sounded like the best idea in the world. So when you saw Ernest and a few of his friends bumming around the orange-clad kid’s driveway, you kept an eye on them while you went about your business. Stores had been stocking up on firecrackers since April, so you wouldn’t be surprised if the rapscallions had managed to get their hands on a few here and there. You hesitated briefly before turning your back, brushing the last few flecks into place before straightening up again, smiling down at the beautiful thing you’d made. A frown tugged at your face, though, when you went for your pocket and found you’d misplaced your lighter. Poking around the garage for a moment, you spotted it on the little table you’d set up beside the garage door. Reaching for it, you paused, poking your head out into the summer air.

Ernest and his friends had migrated to Joseph’s trash cans. There was laughter - always a good sign - and they were pressed close together to block your view of what they were doing to the poor bin, but you had the feeling it wasn't going to be good.

When you saw one of the boys pull a lighter from his pocket you turned on a dime, marching over and plucking the large cylinder off the top of the trash bags, holding it up over your head and out of reach of any of the little monsters.

“Just what in the Styx do you boys think you’re doing?” you asked. Before anyone could answer, the figures immediately scattered, like the rats in ratatouille. They all ran in different directions, seeming to think that you couldn’t catch all of them. They were right, but you only really needed to catch Ernest, who had stumbled back from the can and was looking up at you with what could only be described as a pout. Slowly lowering the bundle, you gave it a glance. 

Sparklers.

Well, at least it wasn’t bottle rockets or something. 

"I- I feel like I should ask what your thought process was here?" you confessed, looking at the bundle of unlit sparklers. There must have been well over five hundred there, how did they get a hold of that many sparklers??

"Logan saw a video of a guy lighting ten thousand sparklers on fire. They wouldn't sell us that many, but I still think it was pretty impressive."

"What's impressive is that you guys were going to stand here, a foot away from a trashcan filled with sparklers, and expected not to wind up with your faces melted off,” you laughed softly in disbelief. “You’ve lit enough stuff on fire by this point that I feel like you, of all people, should know to use a fuse, if nothing else. Where's your dad, anyway?" 

"The school," Ernest grunted, kicking at a loose pebble on the pavement. "Had some stuff to finish before he's done for summer."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You felt for the poor guy - reigning in reckless teens as a single parent was hard enough working from home, you couldn't imagine the position Hugo was in.

“Listen, I get the interest in firepower better than most - a little destructive force is cool and fun and all, I’m just staying there’s safer ways to go about it,” you insisted, sighing and running a hand over your face. Ernest, for his part, had the decency to look at least a little ashamed. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back up at the garage. There was a thought... “Hey. If you’re still in the mood for some fire, I’ve got something you might like,” you offered. Ernest’s brows furrowed in confusion, and you nodded toward your garage, your smile growing just slightly when he fell into step beside you. “Y’know, my dad doesn’t really like me going into shady guy’s garages,” Ernest hummed, stepping past the garage door as if to make a point. “Sound advice. Good thing I’m not that shady,” you chuckled, mimicking Ernest’s skeptical look and throwing it back at him. “We’re neighbors with Robert, arguably the shadiest dude around. I’m comparatively way less shady. No offense to Robert. Now come check this out.” Ernest rolled his eyes, but did as instructed, stepping up to the large slice of walnut set up on sawhorses. The round of wood still had its bark attached to its edges, and black flecks were spread across the piece, shading in the image of a pair of crows perched on a gnarled branch, almost lifelike in their detail. “O… kay. What am I looking at?” he asked, arching a brow. “Like, not that it’s not cool, but… um?” You couldn’t keep the chuckle back, setting the sparkler bomb on your workbench and you pulling your lighter from your pocket. “What you’re looking at, Ernest, is best known as gunpowder painting,” you hummed, tossing up the lighter and catching it in your hand. Ernest’s expression changed from confused boredom to a level of fascination in a flash, his gaze darting up to your face. Tossing up the lighter once more, you caught it and held it out to the kid. “Care to do the honors?”

Ernest took the lighter, looking at the black flecks, and glancing warily back up at you before flicking the little device. Reaching out with a steady hand, he lit the end of the branch, watching with unbridled delight as the image went up in flames, each fleck of powder burning a small mark into the wood before going out quickly. You silently guided him back a step as the flames got higher, and for half a second, Ernest feared that the two of you might burn your garage down, until he noticed the sheet of metal you’d strung up from the garage rafters, protecting the wood. The kid laughed a little at the sight, and you couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. You knew Hugo had a fair bit of trouble with him, but he really was a good kid. He just needed a guiding hand.

Seconds later, the flames died, and the crows were burnt into the wood, beautiful and visually interesting. “That was so cool!” Ernest grinned brightly, reaching out to run his fingers over the burn marks. “Mind it- it’s still a little hot,” you warned, smiling as you moved to retrieve a container of walnut oil. “It’s a little more precise than a wood burning tool. Unlit gunpowder’s a bit more forgiving.” “Can we do another??” he asked, though his smile dimmed a bit when he saw the apologetic look you wore. “Sorry, kiddo. You’ll have to give me a while - I’m out of powder. But I’ll tell you what - once I get this bad boy to Damien, I’ll get some more powder and a few pieces of wood, and you can make your own piece, how’s that sound?”

“Seriously?”

"Hey, have I ever gone back on my word?" You asked, looking out at the cul-de-sac. The sun had begun it’s descent to the western horizon, and soon the neighborhood would be lit up and golden. “How about we have a fire? Then I can keep an eye on you till your dad gets back, and you can burn some stuff.” “I don’t need a babysitter.” Ernest rolled his eyes, but he didn’t snap the words at you, so you didn’t think he was annoyed enough to stomp off. “But you do like burning things,” you shrugged, moving toward the old fridge you’d pushed up beside the door leading into the house. “You’re welcome to a soda, if you want one.” Plucking up a small plastic cooler, you grabbed a container of kerosine, intending to squirt a little on your fire pit to get it started. When you reached for your lighter, and found it missing, it appeared instead by your face, held out by a kid who looked to be trying desperately to appear as if he wasn’t interested. A smile tugged at your lips, and you took the offered lighter. “Thanks, kiddo.” Ernest shrugged, sitting in one of the lawn chairs before standing and scooting it closer to the fire pit. You noticed a can in his hand and your grin widened. Once the fire was lit, you pulled out a can for yourself and sat in the other chair, sighing softly as you relaxed. 

“Man, you’re so much cooler than Hugo,” Ernest groaned, leaning back on his chair. You winced in sympathy for your neighbor, carding a hand through your hair. “Hey, your dad is very cool,” you insisted, earning a look that clearly asked if you were serious. “I mean it! Just because he’s more reserved and cautious than I am, doesn’t mean that he’s not cool. He’s just… Hugo is more or less the Jamie to my Adam.” Ernest looked at you blankly and you sighed, shaking your head. “Look. Hugo’s your dad. I’m not. Hugo’s the one who has to be responsible for you - It’s not any more fun being the parent that has to be responsible all the time than it is being the kid being told what to do. Your dads have been divorced how long now?”

“... year and a half,” Ernest muttered, looking uncomfortably into his soda can.

“Exactly. That’s not a lot of time to find a proper balance between Fun Supportive Dad and Authoritarian Dad. My spouse died when Amanda was still a kid, so I’ve had most of her life to figure it out and get it right, and I still don’t get it right all the time. 

“Your dad doesn’t like to do anything hastily, and I like to do everything incredibly hastily. So therein you have the dichotomy of our patterns,” you hummed, picking up your soda and taking a swig. “There’s a difference between being a good dad and a good parent. They’re not mutually exclusive, but it’s hard to strike a balance. Good parents make sure you’re eating healthy and getting good grades and learning the right lessons. Good dads… hm. Good dads…"

You trailed off, seeing out of the corner of your eye how Ernest was looking at you. Nervous, but thoughtful. Pensive. You shook your head, deciding to try another explanation.

"Okay, stop me if I start to sound patronizing."

"Kay," he agreed, seeming to brace himself. You took a deep breath, hoping beyond hope that you could word this right.

"Hugo is a single parent now. He's so emotionally invested in, and drained by, raising you right, that he doesn't have the energy to do the fun stuff that you get to do with your other dad. 

"Your other dad? He's probably more like me. But he gets to see you on the weekends. Hugo has you all week during the school year. He's the one who has to… to make sure you get up on time, to make sure you get your homework done. And because Hugo does that, your other dad doesn't have to worry about it, so he can focus on taking you fun places and doing cool stuff with you, the way I do. There's no doubt in my mind that Hugo would love to encourage a safe level of pyromania, or go to events with you, but he's busy making sure you have the capacity to be a functional adult when the time comes.”

"Okay, I… I see your point. But it's not like I'm asking him to spend time with me and my friends, or- or go to a concert with me,” he didn’t emphasize the point, but you still caught the jab. You hadn’t been able to convince Hugo to let him come to that concert with you and Lucien, and you had been worried that he was a little bitter about it. “I mean - that stuff might be nice if he wasn’t so lame. I just want him to let me do stuff with my friends. Like, trust me once in a while, y’know?” “Okay. I know how this is gonna sound, but… you gotta prove he can trust you. Kiddo, you’re a pyro in the making, and that can be scary for a parent. You gotta show him that you’re smart enough to be trusted with safety stuff. Same with school stuff, same with friend stuff. The more good decisions you make, the more he’ll trust you to make more good decisions.” Ernest sighed. Not exactly exasperated, but not exactly resigned either. “I know it’s not easy, but you don’t have to get it right away,” you assured gently, taking another swig of your soda. “And you can still do stupid dangerous shit sometimes, because stupid dangerous shit is fun and ridiculous and I know you’re never gonna fully stop.”

Your talk with Ernest lasted a lot longer than you expected, the western sky had dulled from cool blue to a soft violet once the sun sank below the horizon, and stars began to fleck the sky. You weren’t sure when the kid dozed off, but when you looked over at him, his face had gone slack and peaceful. You silently thanked the powers that be that he’d put his can in the cupholder. A flash of movement caught your eye, and you craned your neck to the side of the house, spotting a familiar figure poking his head around the corner.

“Hugo, hey,” you greeted, waving him over. The teacher tentatively made his way across the lawn, standing just behind your chair to the side opposite Ernest. “I was just coming by to ask if you’d seen him,” he confessed awkwardly, looking at his son. “He’s been here since about noon, when I stopped him from blowing up Joseph’s bins,” you grinned. Hugo gave a soft groan, rubbing his face in exasperation. “MC, I’m so sorry-” “No, don’t be! We had a great time,” you assured, giving him a grin. “I showed him my new piece, and we had a chat.” Hugo frowned curiously, but nodded, and ran a hand through his hair. You offered him a soda and he took it, seemingly without thinking “Once I get the supplies, I told him we could do some gunpowder painting. You should join us.” Hugo very nearly choked on his soda.

“Relax, it’s all very safe,” you promised, laughing softly as he recovered. “I showed him the piece I was making for Damien and he seemed interested. Might be a good outlet for the firestarter tendency.” “I see. I don’t know if I…” “Just give it a shot? It might be something fun for you guys to do together.”

Hugo gave pause, looking between you two, and you smiled when he nodded after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll… I'll think about it,” he agreed. Smiling, you leaned over, gently shaking Ernest’s arm. “Kiddo. C’mon, time for you to head home.” Ernest grunted, half asleep even as he pushed out of his chair. Hugo moved to place a hand on his back, and either from sheer tiredness or some shade of incredible wakefulness, he didn’t push out of Hugo’s grip. “Thank you, MC.” “Anytime. I’ll let you know when I get more powder, kay, Ernest?”

The teen nodded, allowing Hugo to guide him back out of the yard. You really hoped you hadn’t gone too far today. You wanted good things for your neighbors, and you wanted to help them however you could. Hopefully you could do that without overstepping. You sighed softly, looking up at the stars spattered across the night sky and the cinders that rose from the fire. Hopefully you could help without anyone getting burned.

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (chapter 16)

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:  Philza minecraft to the rescue!!!!

Chapter word count: 2727

Ao3

Practically crashing his bike outside the park, Phil hopped off and sprinted into the direction of his brothers, throughout the past hour of his shift he had been going through hell. Trying to concentrate and deal with naggy customers was ten times harder when you were terrified your little brother(s) might be having a panic attack. Much to his surprise though, when he arrived, panting and out of breath, he didn’t see the scene of chaos he had predicted. In fact, Wil was happily chatting to George, a hand grasping at the other’s hand, Phil supposed he was trying to replicate the feeling of having Techno with him, and Tommy was sitting next to Sapnap, a few feet away, playing on Techno’s DS.

It seemed peaceful, yet tense, like how the air always seems to be freshest after a storm.

“Everything okay guys?” Phil cleared his throat, seeing all four heads peak up upon hearing his voice. Wibur’s face seemed to morph into a grin as he got up and ran to his older brother, letting go of George for a more suitable stand-in for Techno. The first thing he did was grab hold of his arm, reveling in the comfort that it gave him to have an ounce of familiarity amongst everything happening.

“They’re still stuck” With Wil, Mumbling was never a good sign, he always seemed to fall back into the habit when he was ashamed and didn’t want to admit to something. Did Wilbur really blame himself for this? It was an old park, it was honestly a wonder how it hadn’t happened sooner. He had a smile on his face but his body language betrayed any kind of front he was attempting to give.

Leading him to the door was Wilbur, placing a hand on the knob and trying his hardest to open it as if to prove a point.

“It wont open..” There was a sniffle before a cough was forced out to hide it  “It wont open.”

His voice sounded weak, like he was on the verge of just giving up,of just accepting that he’d never see Techno again. In Phil’s opinion that would be an incredibly childish thought, not like he’d ever say that, it was just that he’d found nothing was really impossible. Sometimes you need to think outside the box to figure it out, but everything was very much possible. That being said, he understood why Wil would feel that way, he couldn’t really knock him for something he couldn’t help, feelings could get messy and complicated but family could always figure it out.

First, he gave a little knock on the door and called into the booth, wanting to make sure the two were okay first, plus it would be a bit ironic if he came to help and accidentally swung the door into them because he hadn’t given a warning.

“You two alright in there? I’m gonna get you out, okay?” “Phil!” Dream seemed to yell like he had all the energy in the world “We’re okay! I broke my mask! Techno spoke!”

“You broke your mask?!” George had piped up, turning his head, brows furrowed with concern and confusion. The two got into a little back and forth, Dream trying to blow it off as totally-not-a-big-deal and George getting exponentially more worried about his brother.

However, all Phil was able to think about was the fact that Techno had spoken. It wasn’t incredibly rare nowadays, he had a small number of friends who he would speak to but he could honestly say that -that Phil knew of, of course- that Techno had spoken to someone he wasn’t already close with.

The pride swelling inside him was immeasurable, he knew just how hard Techno had been working to get to this point and the fact that it was paying off was just mind-blowing to him. Techno had worked so so hard and he had taken a massive step with something that was scary for him.

They were doing something right at least. Okay. Back on task, he couldn’t exactly gush about his little brother if he was stuck in a ticket booth.

Giving the door a quick wiggle it became very apparent that it was tilted off its hinges and without knowing where it was getting caught it would be pretty impossible to get it open. Sighing, he decided with great reluctance that he was going to have to ‘pull a Wilbur’ as they had started to affectionately refer to it.

Within five minutes he had found a rock, big and sharp, it could clearly do some damage if it had enough force behind it. Honestly, he felt a little bad about doing this, when they first found this place they had made the decision that they wouldn’t vandalise anything since that would just ruin the sanctity of their spot. This was a rare exception though, Phil very much still stood by the fact that mindless damage was bad but this was really the only way to get the boy’s out.

“I’m going to throw a rock through the shutters okay? Make sure you’re standing back”

“Standing back!”

The first throw made a big indent, the corner of the shutter caving up just so Phil could bash it a few more times and cause an actual gap. Once there was enough of a crawl-space, Phil held the top of the shutter up and signaled for the boy’s to go through. The metal was poking into his hands and he knew he’d need to bandage them up when he got home but he saw it as more important to make sure the boys got out unscathed. Especially Dream, not to say he didn’t love Techno, he just hadn’t met their parents and who’s to say they had had a tetanus shot?

Generally, he did try not to compare their home-life to other people’s since there were just so many factors that affected it, that being said if he wasn’t the one to book his brother’s vaccinations every few years, he doubted that they’d  get done at all.

Dream had been the first out of the booth, Techno guiding him from behind since his vision was pretty limited from the coat draped over his face. Upon finally being back out in the open, his brothers immediately came over to check if he was okay, pulling him away from the group for a moment to check for any scratches on his face. Suddenly it hit Phil, these boys were a bit rowdy, they were impulsive and loud, they made a lot of questionable decisions but at the end of the day, the love was still there; the exact same love and concern he had for his brothers was there. Maybe they weren’t exactly as rotten as originally thought.

Once Techno had so much as placed a foot outside the booth, Wil had rushed over, clinging onto him and whispering an array of apologies and promises to never ignore him like that ever again.

“Techno!” The boy had Techno’s cheeks cupped in his hands as he half examined him for cuts and half tried to reassure himself that his brother was very much still here. “Techno! Techno! Techno!”

Eventually, the boy gave in to his name being chanted and pulled Wilbur into a hug, rubbing his back gently. Everything was okay now. The scene was sweet and picturesque, the two holding gently.

As if materialising back from the corner they had scuttled off to, the Dream team were back but George was leading them instead of the usual Dream, that made sense, Phil thought to himself, the day had been emotionally exhausting for everyone involved, no doubt Dream just needed a cool down from his role.

“We’re gonna head home I think, Dream needs to get a new mask and I think we’re all pretty tired after today. We did want to come today to talk to you guys about everything that happened, I guess we kinda see why we shouldn’t come unannounced now. Still. I wanna talk so are we okay to come down Wednesday? We promise to always tell you beforehand if we’re gonna come now.”

“Wednesday’s good, I’ll be taking this lot home soon too”

George went to move but Dream stood still, giving Techno, who still had a very attention deprived Wilbur stuck to his arm, a tug on his sleeve.

“I uh.. I still have your coat”

Techno’s face contorted into an emotion Phil couldn’t read, apparently Wil could though because he passed him his phone, presumably so that he could type out what he wanted to say rather than going through the whole process again. Plus, that was a closed space with one person, Techno already knew trying out here would be too much so he didn’t bother, opting to just show him the phone screen instead.

‘Just bring it on Wednesday, idc, get a new mask though because you look stupid’

Dream ‘grinned’ (or as much as a grin you could do through a hood) and nodded, thanking Techno before he and his brother’s finally said their farewells and the sleepy bois were left alone in the park.

It was quiet, just for a minute Before Phil burst out into a massive grin, scooping up his brothers into a big hug.

“I’m so proud of all of you! I’m so proud! So so proud!”

Each one of them got a kiss on the forehead as Phil gushed over them

“Okay okay I think it’s time I get a proper explanation first though”

--

Phil had led them to a bench, the same one near the coaster that they had been sitting at earlier, and got ready to hear the full story. Wil was still holding onto Techno, keeping their hands linked even when they were sitting but he supposed it had also been pretty upsetting for Tommy too since the young boy immediately went to sit on Phil’s lap, something that he only ever really did if he was tired or in need of comfort, snuggles for the sake of snuggles were usually when he was sitting with the twins.

And so, with a little boy on his lap and his other two younger brothers in front of him, Phil gave out a sigh, trying to decide what was best to say. They all seemed so shaken up.

“If explaining what happened is going to hurt, you don't need to say anything, I love you all and I trust your judgements. Of course I’m curious but at the end of the day my job is just to love you guys and make sure you have something stable to come home to”

Tommy had curled up against his chest, taking this as a sign that he didn't want to be part of the conversation, Phil wrapped him up in his green jacket, hoping that the option to shield himself from it would help a bit.

“I can explain” Wil cleared his throat, fiddling with Techno’s hand, who was used to the affection by now. “They came down and.. I got mad. I knew you wouldn’t like it but I thought I was protecting everyone so I kept yelling and yelling and I wouldn’t even listen to what George was trying to tell me. Techno told me he was going into overload but….but…” He stopped fiddling with Techno’s hand, instead opting to squeeze it as his face contorted to one of guilt and pain.

“I didn’t want to listen or deal with it or just stop yelling so I ignored him. I carried on Yelling until he ran off, I think Dream must have followed him because they both ended up in the booth and the door got stuck. I got so scared and I was freaking out, Tommy was being really sweet and trying to help but I think it was all just a bit much, He and Sapnap went off to play which I was really glad about.. I.. I didn’t want him to see me like that. Anyway George helped me calm down and that’s around the time I called you. We kinda just spoke about everything, I told him about my music and how Techno plays violin, he spoke about some of his hobbies too. He’s kinda nice actually”

Phil’s face morphed into sympathy, scooting across on the bench to pull Wilbur into a hug.

“You all handled that so so well. I love you all so much and I’m so proud, Toms? Look up for a second big guy” A little face poked out from the big green jacket “I’m so so happy to hear you were helping Wil, that was a very good thing, I’m also very very very proud to hear you were able to give him his space when he needed thinking time, that was a very grown up decision and I’m incredibly proud of you for that.”

Tommy was grinning now, he clearly disliked it when his brothers were upset but the praise was enough to get back the usual smiley boy. “I’m the best.”

“That’s right” Phil laughed “You’re the best”

Next up, Wilbur. God if he had all the time in the world he’d still have to rush to say all the reasons he was proud.

“Wil?”

The boy looked up, looking much smaller than normal with his shoulders hunched.

“You did so so well, you handled that perfectly. Maybe it started off a little rocky, maybe there were a few bad decisions but that’s okay, nobody got hurt and you're all safe. I’ve never seen you be able to de-escalate yourself like that before and honestly I’m just at a loss for words. You’re doing so well and I can tell you were trying really hard to keep it together. I love you so so much and I promise you we aren’t going anywhere.”

Wil didn’t have a response, just a shy smile, moving to rest his forehead on Techno’s shoulder, Tonight definitely seemed like one of those nights where Techno would need to stay by his side the whole time.

“And Techno? Oh my God. You spoke to Dream? Can I hear the story?”

Techno nodded, a big grin on his face, having clearly been waiting for his turn to get praised, “Well Dream broke his mask and he was sad, I gave him my coat to try to fix it but he was still sad that I saw his face. I tried to remember what you do when we’re sad and I realised I was going to have to talk, it was really scary and I ended up doing the counting thing that me and Wilbur do! But Wil wasn’t there so I had to gesture with my hands but he caught on pretty quick. We did that for a bit and then!!” He was bouncing a bit, one hand on top of Wilbur's to make sure the other didn’t mistake his excitement for trying to get him off. “I got the words out! I told him that he didn’t need to be upset about it and that one day he’d feel better about it and he said that he thinks the same about me”

It was rare to see Techno so excited but it was also rare to have a situation as big as this, Phil didn’t even reply for the first few seconds, pulling the others into yet another hug.

Today had a lot of hugs.

“Tech’ that’s amazing. I don’t even know how to say how proud I am of you, you’re really doing so well.”

As the bigger the thing needed to be praised got, Phil found that adequate praise was harder and harder to articulate. How could he even put it into words just how proud he was?

“You’re doing so so well, This was something massive for you and you really beat it, this was such a big step in the right direction, I’m so proud of you Techno. I’m incredibly proud of all of you.”

The four of them sat together, all huddled up in a happy little pile before Phil gently moved out of it and stood up.

“I think we all deserve ice cream and a movie, who’s with me?”

Who would say no to ice cream and a movie?