𝚈𝚎𝚜, 𝚂𝚒𝚛 [ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐⁿᵒᵗᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ*ff]

Chapter 0.3 - I fucked my way into this mess, so I'll fuck my way out

George comes back to class the next day, and Professor Dream is less than happy with him. 👀👀👀
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"Oh my, I'm so sorry Mrs. Manberg, I really am!" George ran forward, sprinting towards the two sobbing boys. They both instantly clung to him, hiding their snotty faces in his soft clothes.

"Your an hour late, George. You can't keep doing this to the boys-" she sighed, grabbing her keys and locking up the classroom. "Even the janitor has already left!"

"I'm really sorry, my Professor asked to see me after class. It won't happen again!" He hugged the boys tighter, holding one in each arm with both their school bags dangling from a few free fingers. "What about the others?"

She smiled, gesturing to the only vehicle in the car park. "I already got them in the mini van, it was just these two that would move." George sighed in relief, thanking the teacher once again before heading to the car.

Carefully, George sat both boys in the middle row, securing their seatbelts before collapsing in the drivers seat. He looked behind him. "Ranboo, how was school?"

The teen shrugged, "eh. Alright." His face was glued to his phone.

George nodded enthusiastically, "I see, Niki, how about you?"

The girl beamed at him, clasping her hands together. "I got artist of the month award!" George was sure she was too old for this kind of stuff, but the smile on her face was too genuine.

"That's incredible!" He took the paper off her, reading the writing closely, "we can put it on the fridge!"

His eyes squinted to the back seats, in the boot of the van. "Quack? Sam? Darrel?" They all nodded, but didn't say a word. Like usual.

George smiled back, bringing his attention forward to the poor soul squished next to a now sleeping Tommy. "Wilbur? How was your band practice?"

"Good yeah, I think we are getting better." Wilbur was the oldest, mature for his age but still not old enough to look after anyone but himself. The fire in the toaster last week cleared that up. "Thanks for asking."

He grinned back, grabbing the keys and starting the van.

"What about me?"

George looked to the seat next to him, the glare of the younger trying his best to intimidate him. "Alright techno, did you get into anymore fights?"

The pink haired scowled, "you don't get it, I'm the one in the right."

"I know you are," George sympathised for once with the little rebel, foot on the gas, "but not everyone needs a broken nose for stealing a rubber."

It was early evening by the time they all got home, and George helped unload the children. Wilbur and Techno would slip away to the basement to play video games, with Tommy begging behind them to come as well. Niki would go straight to her room and open her window to talk to the neighbours boy, Fundy, so they could draw together. Ranboo would, well, no one really knew what he got up too. The three 'bad boys' at the back would get out last and lock themselves upstairs, probably getting high together. And then there was Tubbo, who'd follow George around no matter what, clinging desperately to his leg as if he could run at any time.

"What's for tea time?" The little boys hands clapped together excitedly, skipping around the kitchen.

George thought hard, "Spaghetti?" Tubbos extremes nods confirmed the option, and they both started cooking. It was a messy proses that involved some singing and dancing to the radio. By the time everyone had eaten and were once again dispersing back to their rooms, Phil came home.