howdy! itâs my birthday today and my familyâs being not very pog so could i maybe get some sbi comforting reader on their birthday? if not i totally get it and i hope you have a wonderful day!!
happy birthday anon !! fuck your family <3
modern au, sbi au! remember sbi isnât canon
It was supposed to be a good day. One of the few days in the entire year that you look forward to, besides holidays and such. You were excited for today and whatever it had to offer. Yet, everything wasnât going your way.Â
It started in the morning, the beginning of the downfall. Itâs cold in the room, making the bed much more comfortable. Not wanting to leave its warmth so soon, you snooze the blaring alarm. When it rings again, you press the button once more. Besides, another five minutes wouldnât hurt anyone. However, five turned to ten and eventually the alarm shut itself off. When you finally awoke, you were late for meeting up with some friends.Â
You quickly ran around the bedroom, struggling to get ready so soon. Yet, every outfit felt disgusting. They would itch and make you uncomfortably warm. For some reason you even felt like crying, the smallest choice oddly overwhelming. After a few deep breaths, you rush downstairs. A smile crosses your face when you round the corner.Â
What surprise did mom and dad have ready? Maybe they took the day off? Did they get a cake or some sort of sweet?Â
Your smile dips when the dining room remains empty. The lights are turned off, the empty room staring back at you. Not even a note lies on the table or counters. You pause momentarily before checking around the house. Yet, no one is here. Not in their rooms, hiding under tables or on the couch.Â
Did they forget? No, they are probably planning a surprise. Yeah, a big surprise for later.Â
With those reassurances you leave the house. Youâre almost twenty minutes late for meeting up with your friends. It was all planned to meet at the park then go to the movies. Something fun to do together on this off day. You run to the location, excitement pouring through your veins. A few stumbles over rocks and pavement doesnât slow you down. It isnât until you crash into the ground below that you cry out. The impact cuts up the palms of your hands slightly but itâs bearable. You donât have time to worry about that, not when everyone is waiting for you.Â
You push yourself up and make your way to the park. Pants escape your mouth when you come to a stop, chest heaving. You look around for your friends, head darting rapidly. Eyebrows furrow and eyes glance around feverishly.Â
Where are they? You spin around a few times, hoping to spot the group but to no avail. Finally, you pull your phone out of your pocket, checking for responses. Maybe theyâre in a different part of the park?Â
You sit on a nearby bench, clicking away at your phone. Message after message and no response back. Your leg begins to bounce, foot tapping away at the grass below. Finally, a message back. Your hands feel sweaty and you wipe them on your clothes. They left. The group left without you. Your leg begins to bounce faster with nerves.Â
Everyone in the park knows. They know that I was ditched. Theyâre all watching me, whispering to each other. Making fun of me.Â
With haste you leave the park, feeling anxiety crawl through your body and mind. You tuck your phone away, feeling the device slip in your palms. While not paying attention, you step into a pile of mud. Your shoe sticks into the liquid and with too much force you yank it out. The mud splatters on to your clothes. Your breathing is shakily. You decide to try and shake off the feeling by texting your family, asking when theyâll come back home. Their response isnât what you want. Theyâre working long today and wonât be home.Â
They didnât even apologize. I know I shouldnât be this upset, itâs just a birthday. But-Â
Not wanting to cry in public, you speedily walk down the streets. Too much runs through your mind, far too many thoughts to deal with at once. In minutes flat youâre at the final destination. You knock on the door a few times, arms cradling yourself. You knock again when no one responds. Finally, the door opens and a mop of brown hair peeks behind it. You push your way in, ignoring their worried words.Â
You throw yourself onto the couch, face into the cushions. The furniture sinks with your weight, creaking lightly from the force.Â
âUm, not that we donât enjoy having you here but why are you here?â Wilbur moves past the door, making his way to the couch. He raises an eyebrow when you donât attempt to respond. He calls out for his dad, the others arriving soon enough with the commotion. Tommy pokes and prods at your lying figure, dodging your weak slaps.Â
âHey are you okay, hun?â Philza places a hand on your shoulder gently, trying to coax some sort of response. You mumble into the pillows, the sounds incoherent.Â
âTry that again.â Techno rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. Heâs pretending not to care, but one can spot the worry behind his flat expression. You turn your head, head still shoved into the cushions.Â
âEverything is going wrong today!â You almost shout, tears rising to your eyes. The family flinches at the sight, worries increasing. âToday was supposed to be fun. But, my parents ditched me and so did my friends. They didnât even remember my birthday!â You sink back into the couch, glumly.Â
âTodayâs your birthday?â Tommy asks, his head tilting. Wilbur smacks the younger boy lightly, obviously trying to tell him that now is not the time to bring that up. The teens glance at one another, forming a plan already.Â
âWell, why donât we celebrate?â Phil shakes your shoulder gently, trying to urge you to sit up. Eventually you do, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. The father figure hugs you briefly, before leaving the embrace. He nods at his boys to take over while he makes his way to the kitchen.Â
The teens work quickly to brighten up the place. Tommy moves in front of the television to put on a movie, he occasionally asks for your input. Although, he sometimes calls your choices âutterly wrongâ and ignores them. Wilbur returns briefly, one of his sweaters in his hands. He tosses it to you, to put on, knowing how much you enjoy taking them.Â
You lean back into the couch, Tommy sitting on your left and Wilbur on your right. Techno joins too, sitting next to Wilbur. He brought some blankets to cover all of you comfortably. In minutes, the movie starts up, one you havenât seen in so long. A childhood favorite. You sniffle, sinking into their sides.Â
They remembered what movie you liked. Theyâre doing all of this for you?Â
About halfway through the movie, the lights turn off completely. You all look around, spotting a glow from the kitchen. Philza walks over, a plate of cupcakes in his hands. One of them has a candle in the middle, the flame bringing a small amount of light to the room. He sings softly, the others joining in but more energetically.Â
The dad stops in front of you with the plate still in his hands.Â
âI know itâs not a lot, and certainly not a cake. But, it's the only mix we had in the house. I hope this is enough to help you feel better.âÂ
Tears welt in your eyes again, running down your face. Hastily you wipe them away with the overhanging sleeves of Wilburâs sweater. Phil curses, wondering if he did something wrong. Meanwhile, Wilbur and Techno rub your back and shoulders gently, trying to make you stop crying.Â
âIâm sorry for crying. Just, this is the best thing someoneâs done for me.â You stumble over your words, smiling weakly. The dad sets the plate aside, pulling you into another hug. This time, the rest of the boys join in on the hug. Itâs warm and comforting, being surrounded by all of them. Somehow, the birthday spent without your real family is the best one yet.Â
Eventually the hug ends. Phil holds out the cupcake again, the candle melting into the frosting at this point. He urges you to blow out the flame. With a wide grin, you do. The others cheer, Tommy shaking your shoulders dramatically. You laugh wildly, barely being able to hold onto the sweet. The brothers each grab a cupcake, biting into it afterwards. It isnât the best cupcake youâve had, but undeniably better in the presence of the others.Â
For the rest of the night, you watch movies with the family. They each rotate on who picks a movie, often skipping over Technoâs choices; because the history channel does not count as a film. Soon enough, the four end up asleep on the couch, laying against each other. Food is scattered across the blanket, limbs tangled with each other. Tommy leans against your shoulder, drool dripping out of his mouth as he snores. You and Wilbur lean against one another and Technoâs head falls against his brotherâs. For such a rowdy family, itâs the rare moments like these that one can see them calm.Â
Not wanting to wake them, Phil turns off the television and lights. He calls your parents to explain that youâll be spending the night and to scold them a bit for being assholes. But, you donât need to know that. Not when youâre having a good time. He glances back at the found family, smiling softly. You always were best friends with the boys, sticking by their sides through thick and thin. Maybe, he can encourage you to visit more often. After all, it would be fun for all of the family. They all enjoy having you around.Â