pleasing a storm || an sbi family

killin' time gettin' high, can't wait till it ends.

slight content warning i guess, underage smokin' weed and alcohol consumption if that upsets you don't read it is that simple 😌

now, we rewind just a bit. yes, yes, techno and tommy still have their heartwarming little family talk and all that good shit, but whilst all that was happening, we can't just leave wilbur in the dust. ya know, he just annihilated this kid, he didn't simply cease to exist after all that. now we sit once again in the kitchen, though this time, it's just after tommy headed up the stairs.

phil waited until he heard a door shut before he finally spoke.

"what the hell was that, wilbur?" he asked, trying his hardest to keep his voice quiet and calm despite quite literally shaking with anger. he hated yelling at his kids, he really did, he knew the sorta shit they had to deal with before they got around to his place, truly, so he didn't wanna pull anything that could fuck them over mentally or anything.

"he- i don't-" wilbur didn't fucking know how to explain himself. he was pissed too. he didn't exactly know what he was angry about, he was just, well, angry. "fuck, i don't fucking know, he was just being a fucking assho-"

"he's sixteen, wilbur, of course he's going to be a fucking asshole. that's like their whole thing," phil answered. at this point, techno realized how exceptionally awkward he felt sitting here watching his dad just yell at his brother, so he silently swept past them and quietly padded up the stairs. neither phil nor wilbur paid him any mind.

"yeah but-" wilbur tried, only to be interrupted.

"but? there's no 'but' about it wilbur, i don't give a damn if that kid calls you a dick to your face and flips you off, there's no god damn excuse to tell him he's never gonna be a part of this fucking family. he's a child. a fucking child,"

"god," wilbur put his cup on the counter and threw his hands up in annoyance. "he's sixteen, he's hardly a child- besides you're fucking taking his side for this shit? he's been here five fucking months! i'm your kid! your god damn kid, you're supposed to side with me!" he knew he sounded childish, but he was upset and angry and ya know what, he was almost 18 but he was a fucking child. phil's child at that.

"wilbur, i'm taking the side of who's in the right and it's not you- and tommy is my child too-"

"no he's not!" wilbur exclaimed. "you- you- you're-" he didn't know what the hell phil was, but whatever it was, he sure fucking was it.

"i'm what, wilbur?" phil asked, and wilbur was pissed at how fucking calmly he asked this. he wanted his dad to be mad, or to yell at him, or fucking something.

"fuck you," wilbur said simply, turning and heading towards the front door. he slipped his shoes on as his dad yelled after him.

"wilbur, watch your mouth- where the hell do you think you're going?"

"out," was wilburs simple answer, pulling on his coat.

"the hell you are- get back here, go to your room- you're fucking grounded," phil ordered, stepping around broken glass as wilbur pulled open the door.

"bye," wilbur ignored everything his father was saying, stepping outside and slamming the door behind him.

"wilbur- WILBUR-" phil tried as the door closed, stopping when he was met with a closed door to the face. he could chase after him. hell, he could even just open the door and yell for him, he was sure that wilbur would probably come back if he did, but he didn't. instead, he swallowed his pride and let him go. phil was doing his best, he really was, but he knew he wasn't the best at what being a dad and he never would be. with a heavy sigh and a heavy heart, he turned his back to the door.