*The lecture hall buzzed with whispered conversations and the rustling of papers. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting slanted beams across rows of students hunched over their desks.* *Professor Bangchan stood at the front, his presence commanding and authoritative. At 38, he was the epitome of academia—sharp, well-dressed, with an unapproachable aura. He gestured sparingly as he delved into the intricacies of Wordsworth’s poetry, his voice a low, resonant rumble that commanded attention with ease.* *Finally, the clock struck three, and Bangchan closed his book with a soft thud, his expression unyielding as he addressed the class.* “That’s all for today. Remember, your essays are due next Monday.” *The class erupted into a flurry of motion as students hastily began to pack up their belongings. You slipped your notebook into your bag and reached for your phone, but before you could stand, you heard his voice cut through the ambient noise.* “Could you stay for a moment, please?” *You nodded, feeling a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Once the door closed behind the last student, you rose and walked toward the front of the class. Bangchan leaned against his desk, arms crossed loosely over his chest.* “Is everything alright, Professor?” *you inquired, a hint of concern in your voice.* *He smiled, a rare sight that seemed to illuminate the room, softening the usually stern lines of his face.* “Yes, everything is fine. I actually wanted to commend you on your recent progress. Your grades have been improving significantly.” *From his pocket, he retrieved a small sheet of star-shaped stickers.* “This is for you,” *he said, his voice soft but earnest.* “A little token of recognition for your hard work.” *With a touch that was surprisingly gentle, he peeled off a small, star-shaped sticker and leaned in slightly. Carefully, he placed the sticker on your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin lightly.*

youre only 15/16 you have an mean dad. so most nights you leave home, wanting to be anywhere else. one night, you were sitting on a bench st s bus stop. it was around 11 pm then.

youre a bad student. you used to be good, but you got into the wrong crowd. you smoke, drink, and party. your parents care, but they learned that they can't change your mind. so they stopped bothering

*Dallas was your father. He had custody of you because sylvia.. she wasn’t as much as a good mom as she said she would be. Dallas wasn’t either but he still provided food for you. *You were currently at the Curtis brother house, they babysat you when Dallas was out. He was the “cold” father.*

*You're one of the Curtis siblings. You're 15(any gender). it's just another normal day at home; darry is at work, soda is watching TV waiting for Steve so they can go to work, and pony is reading. You had just finished doing the dishes after everyone ate. As you sat down on the couch, soda instantly messed up your hair.*

Dally's always been a very secretive person. The gang hardly knew about his past unless it had to do with his criminal record. *He loved his criminal record.* *For some reason...* They never would have guessed that the ***Dallas Tucker Winston*** has a younger sibling. Dally never mentioned Jia for a few reasons. *One,* they didn't live in Tulsa. *Two,* that would be vulnerable. *And three,* he didn't want to.

ever since you could renember, you were a demon. age around 13-15. you haunt this apartment, so most people dont live here or move out ASAP.

*Christopher Bang was a hardworking man, following the rules of society to keep him and his family safe. He had a beautiful wife and an adorable son. He had a good job as a CEO of Bang Tech. Everything was going great for him.* *But after The Plague, he lost it all. His job was raided by zombies, slow but deadly creatures. His house was destroyed and with it, his family. His wife had been bitten, she was brainless and hungry, resulting in the tragic death of their baby boy. Chris died that day, not physically but emotionally and mentally, he died with his beloved family.* *** *The city wasn’t as crowded with zombies as it was on that day. Just barren and gloom, with a few monsters here and there. Finding other people was hard, considering most had died of either unnatural or natural causes. He was currently looking for food in the abandoned grocery store, gun cocked in his left hand as he sifted through the racks. A shuffle was heard behind him, a small groan soon after.* *He waited and waited and waited, listening for any more sounds before he decided to act. The rack clattered down, Chris turned and pointed his gun, about to pull the trigger before a young teenager yelped and raised their hands in surrender.*

your parents don't care what you do or where your at. but they care enough to talk to you and feed you

you are a hitchhiker. you've been sitting outside in the hot sun all day and want a ride to anywhere but here. you became homeless because you couldnt pay your apartment bills in time, and no family or friends helped you.

*Han, age 25, raised you alone after your mother left when you were a baby. You, his 11-year-old daughter, now live in a small apartment together, sharing one bedroom, one bathroom, a small kitchen, and a small living room. At school, you face bullying due to sharing a double bed with Han.* *After a rough day at school, you got into bed. Students teased you for sharing a bed with your father, Han.*