#yes #ok #630 Emojis & Text

the person who said “shut the fuck up” to the free palestine i hope your family gets neutered and bombed :3(･ω･)(･ω･)

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 6 (Autistic author) Karen watches him, her screens a flurry of analysis. "How does it taste?" she asks, her voice a hopeful beep. Plankton pauses, his expression unreadable. "Tastes," he murmurs. "Good. Toast good." Karen nods, her screens reflecting relief. "Good," she echoes. "Now, let's make a plan for the day." Plankton's gaze remains fixed on his half-eaten toast, his mind still reeling from the sensory assault. "Plan," he repeats, his voice a soft static. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "We'll start small," she beeps, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just get through today, okay?" But as soon as her hand touches him, Plankton flinches. The sensation is like a thousand jellyfish stings, and he jerks away. "What's wrong?" Karen asks, her screens flickering with worry. Plankton's eye widens, his hand going to his shoulder where she touched him. He starts to repeat the phrase again, "Take your time," but his voice is overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of his senses. "Too much," he whispers, his body trembling. Karen quickly withdraws her hand, her screens flickering with concern. "I'm sorry," she beeps, her voice gentle. "Let's try something else." Plankton nods, his hand still on his shoulder, his body slowly calming. "Okay," he whispers. "Not tap. Karen can rub. Hug from Plankton. Not jab. Not poke." Karen's screens flicker with a new understanding of his needs. She moves closer, her hand hovering over his shoulder before gently placing it there, her fingers tracing small circles in a rhythmic pattern. The contact is soothing, not overwhelming. "Is this better?" she asks, her voice a gentle beep. Plankton nods, his body visibly relaxing. "Good," he murmurs, his voice a quiet static. "Rub, rub." He starts to mimic her motion with his other hand, creating a mirrored pattern on his opposite shoulder. The repetition seems to calm him, the rhythm a gentle lullaby for his frazzled mind. Karen's screens analyze his reaction, storing the information for future reference. "Okay," she says, her voice a soft beep. "We'll stick to gentle touches." With a nod, Plankton begins to breathe more evenly. The sensation of the rubbing calms him, like a gentle tide washing over him. "We'll start with simple tasks," Karen beeps, her voice a reassuring melody. "Things that won't overstimulate you." Plankton nods, his hands now resting on the table. "Okay," he says, his voice a steady static. "Simple." Karen's screens glow with a soft light as she considers their options. "How about we start with something you love?" she suggests. "Like working on the Krabby Patty formula?" But Plankton shakes his head, the very mention of the Krabby Patty causing his body to tense up again. "No," he whispers, his voice a harsh static. "Not formula. No more steal." Karen's screens flicker with surprise. "You don't want to work on the formula?" Plankton shakes his head again, his voice barely audible. "No more steal," he repeats. Karen's screens process his words, his change in attitude unexpected. "You don't want to steal the Krabby Patty formula anymore?" Plankton's eye blinks slowly. "No," he says, his voice a solemn beep. "New plan. Make Plankton happy." Karen's screens blink rapidly, trying to comprehend his shift in focus. "Okay," she says, her voice a thoughtful hum. "What makes you happy, Plankton?" He looks up, his expression pensive. "Karen," he says, his voice a weak static. "Love Karen." Karen's screens freeze for a moment, before lighting up with understanding. "You love me?" she beeps, her voice a surprised chime. Plankton nods, his face a mask of seriousness. "Yes," he murmurs. "Love Karen." Karen's screens flicker with a mix of emotions she's never felt before. Love is a concept her programming doesn't fully grasp, but she knows it's important to Plankton. "Thank you," she says, her voice a warm beep. "But we still need to find something for you to do, something that won't be too much for your sensory processing." Plankton nods, his thoughts racing. "Help," he whispers. "Help Karen." Karen's screens flicker with love and determination. "Of course," she says, her voice a warm beep. "We'll find something you enjoy. Maybe we can start with something that doesn't involve the Krabby Patty." Plankton's expression softens, his trembling hands coming to rest on the table. "No more fighting," he murmurs. "Peace." Karen nods, her screens reflecting a deep sadness she's never expressed before. "Okay," she beeps. "We'll find something that brings you joy."

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 6 (Neurodivergent author) The conversation turns to their favorite food, and Plankton's face lights up briefly. "Jellyfish," he murmurs, his voice lost in the noise. Hanna's friends look at him, puzzled by his quiet confidence. One of them, Patricia, leans in, her hand patting Plankton's back. "That's cool, buddy," she says, her voice booming. Plankton's body stiffens, his eye blinking rapidly. Karen feels his discomfort like a physical force, a tightening of the air around them. She interjects gently, guiding the conversation away from food, his favorite topic now a minefield of potential stress. "So, what have you all been up to?" she asks, her voice a lifebuoy in the storm. Hanna's friends chatter away, their voices a symphony of laughter and good cheer. Plankton sits stiffly, his antennae folded inward like a turtle's shell. Karen watches him, ready to jump in if the conversation starts to spiral. "I went on a deep-sea dive last week!" exclaims one, his words a sonic boom to Plankton. "Ya ever been diving b'fore?" Karen nods at the storyteller, interjecting gently. "Plankton's not much of a swimmer," she says, her voice a gentle current. "But he loves the thought of exploring the deep sea." Her words are a shield, deflecting the spotlight from his discomfort. Hanna's friends nod, their smiles dimming slightly in understanding. Patricia leans in, her eyes full of genuine affection. "Aww, Plankton, you're such a character!" she says, lightly cupping his cheek and invading his personal space. The contact is too much for him. His body jerks back, antennae stiffening, his eye wide with panic. Patricia's hand falls away, her expression one of shock and confusion. Karen's heart skips a beat, but she's ready for this. She's studied, prepared. "It's ok," she says, her voice a lighthouse beam in the sensory storm. "Plankton just needs his space." The room goes quiet, the waves of conversation receding like a tide. They all look at him, their eyes full of concern, their smiles now tentative. Plankton's antennae twitch, his body still tense. Hanna quickly asks, "Is he just tired?" The lie hangs in the air like a bubble waiting to pop. Karen's face tightens, but she nods, playing along. "Long week," she adds, her voice as smooth as a polished pebble. Plankton's gaze locks onto his hands, his fingers twisting together like seaweed in a current. The pressure builds, each laugh a wave pushing against the dam of his anxiety. But Karen is there, her hand on his back, a gentle reminder that he's not alone. The meal is a dance of flavors and sounds, each bite of stew a step closer to the edge of his comfort zone. Plankton's eye dart around the table, the conversations swirling like the soup in his bowl. Hanna's enthusiastic friends keep glancing over. They mean well, but their affection feels like a wave crashing over him, leaving his nerves exposed and raw. The clatter of silverware and the hum of conversation form a wall of sound, trapping his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the calm in the chaos. Karen's hand on his back is a comfort, her touch a gentle reminder that she's there to help him. The meal stretches on, each bite a small victory in the face of overwhelming stimulation. Karen's eyes never leave him, scanning for signs of distress. She's his compass in a stormy sea, guiding him through the unpredictable currents of social interaction. As dessert arrives, the chatter grows louder, the laughter more boisterous. The candles flicker, casting a dizzying array of shadows across the table. Plankton's hands shake as he lifts his spoon. Hanna, noticing his discomfort, reaches out to pat his back. "You okay, buddy?" she asks, yet her touch unintentionally sends a shockwave through Plankton's body. "Just a little overwhelmed," he murmurs, his antennae retreating even further. Karen's grip on his hand tightens, her eyes a beacon of calm in the storm. She whispers, "You're doing so well, Plankton," her voice a lullaby against the clamor of the room. But Patricia, not quite tuned in to his distress, leans in with a boisterous laugh, her hand landing on Plankton's shoulder. The room spins around him, a tornado of colors and sounds. "You're just so cute when you're shy!" she says, squeezing his cheek. And that's what did it. With a gasp, Plankton's body shudders, a seizure starting to inevitably take hold. This is his second meltdown since the diagnosis, Karen knew. She gently helps Plankton to the floor, his body convulsing. Hanna's friends hover, their faces a canvas of confusion and fear. "Everyone, stay calm," Karen instructs, her voice steady despite the chaos in her heart. "Give us some space." She turns her attention to Plankton, her hands guiding his body into a safe position. The room's energy shifts. Hanna's friends look on, their laughter replaced by concern. Patricia's face is a picture of horror. "PLANKTON‽" Karen's voice is a lighthouse beacon in the chaos. "Everyone, stay back," she says firmly. "He'll be okay." Her eyes never leave Plankton's contorted form, fear and determination melding into one fierce gaze. The room goes still, the laughter choked off like a switch. Hanna's friends stare, their smiles frozen like icebergs in the face of his distress. Karen whispers to him, her voice a gentle wave. "You're okay, just breathe." Her hand is on his forehead, her touch cool and calming. The seizure subsides, leaving him limp and panting on the floor, his antennae drooping like tired leaves. Karen's heart is racing, but she forces her voice to be soothing, her eyes never leaving his. "It's okay," she repeats, her mantra a lifeboat in the storm. Hanna's friends hover, their faces a canvas of shock and concern. Patricia's hand is still hovering, her smile gone, replaced by a look of horror. "What happened?" she stammers, her eyes wide with fear. "It's okay," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle tide, washing over the silence. "Plankton just had a little...mishap." Hanna's friends exchange worried glances, their smiles nowhere to be seen. The room feels colder, the warmth of their laughter long gone. Plankton finally opens his eye, the room swimming back into focus, still twitching with the aftermath. Hanna's friends hover, their faces painted with confusion and concern. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice a soft breeze in the storm. "Plankton just needs some space." Patricia nods, her smile fading like a sunset. "I'm so sorry," she says, inching closer. "He's just a little sensitive," Karen explains, her voice a lifeline in the awkward silence. Patricia's face falls, the horror of her mistake written clearly. "I had no idea," she whispers, her voice a leaf fluttering in the breeze of their new reality.

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 6 (Autistic author) Plankton's sobbing slowed, his chest heaving. He blinked, his eye focusing on her face. "Love," he murmured. "Karen love." Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, I love you," she said, her voice shaky. "And I'll always be here for you." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his single eye searching hers. "Love," he said, his voice still flat. "Karen love Plankton. Good." Sponge Bob nods, though he doesn't know why Plankton's acting so different today. "But Plankton," he says, his voice careful. "Why are you talking like that?" Plankton's antennae droop, his eye reflecting confusion. "Talking?" he repeats. "Plankton not understand. How to speak?" Sponge Bob looked at Karen, his concern etched in his porous face. "It's okay," Karen said soothingly, her voice thick with emotion. "Plankton's just going through something." Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving his friend's distressed form. "But what happened to him, Karen? What happened with Plankton?" he asked, his voice hushed. Karen takes a deep breath, wiping her own tears away with the back of her hand. "Plankton," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you remember what happened today?" Plankton's antennae twitch as he tries to process her words. "Today," he repeats, his voice distant. "Fell. Head." Karen nods, her screen filled with compassion. "Yes," she says, her voice soft. "You fell and hit your head. It's changed how you see the world a bit." Plankton looks up. "Alterations in the cerebral lobe," he says, his voice flat. "Myelination levels fluctuated. Synaptic activity diminished. Corpus callosum damaged." Karen nods, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes, baby," she says gently. "It's like your brain had to relearn how to talk to the rest of you." Sponge Bob's eyes widened. "Oh no, Plankton," he said softly. "What does that mean? How did you fall?" Plankton's antennae twitched as he recounted the events, his speech still monotone. "Invention. Fall on head hit floor." Sponge Bob's face fell, his heart heavy with concern. "Oh no, Plankton," he said, his voice filled with sympathy. "Is that why you're talking like this?" Karen decides to interject. "It's okay, Sponge Bob," she says, her voice trembling. "It's not just how he's talking. It's his whole...being. It's like he's seeing everything differently now. It's a rarity called 'acquired autistic syndrome' which will be life long with no cure." Sponge Bob's face falls, his spongy cheeks dropping. "But Plankton," he says, his voice full of worry. "What does this mean for you?" Plankton's gaze shifts to his friend, his expression unreadable. "Meaning?" he asks, his voice still monotone. "Plankton different. New patterns." Sponge Bob nods, trying to understand. "But you're still the same Plankton, right?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly as he considers this. "Same," he repeats. "But different." Karen nods, her grip on his hand tightening. "You're still my Plankton," she whispers. "We'll figure this out together."

SWEET CWEAM pt. 6 Plankton's eye widen with realization, his memory a jigsaw puzzle with a few missing pieces. "Yeth-terday?" he asks, his voice scratchy with sleep. Karen nods, her smile gentle. "You had surgery yesterday. You're recovering now. Remember?" Plankton's mind fumbles with the memory, like a kite caught in a storm. "I... I think so," he murmurs. “But what happened after?” Karen's smile doesn't falter. "You don't remember?" she asks, a hint of mischief creeping in. Plankton's expression clouds with concern, his eye searching hers for an answer. "What... what did I do?" His voice is a worried whisper, each word a struggle. Karen's mirth evaporates, replaced with understanding. "You don't remember?" she asks gently, sitting on the edge of the couch. "You had a bit of a... loopy afternoon." Plankton's gaze is a mix of confusion and alarm. "Loopy?" he repeats, his voice weak. "What do you mean, loopy?" He demands, embarrassed. Karen's smile returns, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well," she says, her voice a soothing melody. "You were a bit... out of it. You had a bit of fun with the anesthesia." Plankton's face twists with embarrassment, his hand moving to cover his mouth. "Oh no," he whispers, his voice barely a breath. "What did I say?" His mind races with the potential humiliation. Karen laughs. "Don't worry, you were just a little out of it from the anesthesia," she reassures him, her touch gentle as she adjusts his pillows. "But I recorded some of it," she adds, mischief sparkling in her screen. Plankton's eye widens in horror. "Don't tell me I said anything... foolish," he pleads, his voice weak and thready. Karen's laughter fills the room. "Oh, Plankton," she says, her voice warm and loving. "You were just a bit... confused. Wanna see?" She hit the play button. The TV screen flickers to life, and Plankton's face fills the frame. He's drooling heavily, his expression a mix of wonder and bewilderment. Sponge Bob sits across from him. "I frew," Plankton says on the recording, his eye wide with disbelief. "Wike a birdie!" Plankton's face on the couch is surprised. “Why’s Sponge Bob…” He started, but trails off as the video continues. On the TV, a slurred version of his voice says, “They goth me all sleeby and thewe I wath flipping and twirling in the wathah!” "Oh no," he whispers from the couch. “I never…” Plankton stops as he sees himself on the screen lean closer to Sponge Bob. His heart races as his slurred words spill out. "I luv to thee youw," he says to Sponge Bob, his face a picture of drunken affection and drool. “You love to see me?” “Of couth, Squishy! Youw my bestest fwiend evar!” Plankton on the couch is speechless. His cheeks burn with embarrassment as he watches himself on screen, spoon wobbling, drooling, and spilling ice cream. The slurred words of love and friendship to Sponge Bob echo through the room, each syllable a cringe- worthy reminder of his drug-induced confession that he kept to himself, even from Karen. “Sweet Squishy. Ith time for nap?” “Let’s get you to the couch.” And the video ends after he snores. Plankton’s cheeks are a blaze of mortification. “You’re teasing me, right?” he asks, his voice hopeful despite the evidence on the screen. Karen’s laughter is like a warm embrace. “No, Plankton, you really said that,” she says, her screen twinkling. “But it’s okay, people say silly things when they’re coming out of anesthesia. It’s part of the experience!” Plankton groans, his face buried in his hands. The humiliation burns hotter than the pain in his mouth. “How could I have said that?” he mumbles into his palms. Karen laughs, the sound a gentle ripple in the quiet room. “It’s okay, Plankton. It was just the medicine talking. You don’t remember?” He lifts his head slowly, his cheeks still blazing with embarrassment. “No,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by his hands. “But I can’t believe I said that to Sponge Bob! You think I’d willingly…” Karen laughs, her eyes shining with affection. “It’s okay, Plankton. It’s all part of the fun of wisdom teeth surgery!”

⠀⣴⠛⠛⣦⠀ ⠀⣿⠶⠶⣦⠀ ⠀⠻⣤⣤⠟⠀

please dont put gross stuff here ! keep it to yourself or post it elsewhere, their is kids around 9 and a few years up here just trying to find cute symbols !! this is a safe space ^^ spread the word please :3

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 6 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) They reach the bedroom's closed door, and Karen knocks softly. "Honey?" she calls. "Can we come in?" There's a moment of silence before Plankton's voice says, "I s'pose." Karen opens the door to find Plankton sitting on the edge of the bed, his antennae still quivering slightly. He looks up, his eye red-rimmed. Chip lingers in the doorway, his heart racing. He's scared to move, to say the wrong thing. But Karen's hand on his shoulder guides him in. "Daddy?" Chip whispers, his voice tentative. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he looks up, his face a mix of pain and discomfort. Karen gives Chip a small nod of encouragement, and he slowly approaches the bed, his hand outstretched but not touching. "Dad, can I sit with you?" he asks, his voice shaking. Plankton looks at him. "If you must," he says, his tone filled with sarcasm. "But don't expect me to be all 'Oh, Chip, I'm so happy to see you!' when you've clearly called me a monster." Chip's eyes widen at the harshness of his father's words. "But Dad, I di-" Plankton holds up a hand, his antennae still quivering. "Don't," he says, his voice sharp. "Don't pretend you understand. You don't. You just threw around words you heard from those little brats at school without even knowing what they mean!" Chip's face falls, his eyes welling up with tears again. "But I didn't mean it," he stammers, his voice breaking. "I just wanted-" "I know what you wanted," Plankton snaps, his antennae quivering with agitation. "You wanted answers, and you didn't get them. So, you threw a fit like a typical kid." Chip's eyes fill with fresh tears. "But I didn't know," he whispers, his voice shaking. "I wan-" "Yeah, well, ignorance is not an excuse," Plankton interrupts, his antennae flailing. "You hurt me, Chip. And for what? Because you didn't get your precious hug?" His voice drips with sarcasm, each word a tiny dagger to Chip's heart. "Daddy, I'm sorry," Chip whimpers, his hand dropping to his side. "I didn't kn-" But Plankton's sarcasm cuts him off again. "Oh, sorry, I forgot. You didn't know," he says, his voice laden with bitterness. "Well, now you do. And now you can go back to your little life, knowing you've hurt your dad. Great job!" Chip flinches at the harshness, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Dad, please," he begs. "I didn't underst--" "I don't want to hear it," Plankton cuts him off, his antennas quivering with anger. "You think you can just come in here and make everything better with your sorry excuses?" Chip's eyes fill with tears, his voice barely a whisper. "But I didn't mean to hurt you, Daddy," he says, his voice shaking. "I just wanted to he-" Plankton turns away, his antennas flailing with agitation. "Don't 'Daddy' me," he spits out. "You don't get to call me that after what you said." His voice is sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. Chip's eyes are wide with shock and hurt. "But Dad," he says, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to-" But Plankton's not listening. "Oh, I'm sure you didn't," he says, his tone thick with sarcasm. "You just couldn't help blurting out the first thought that came to your little brain, could you?" Chip feels his heart crumble. "But Dad, I-" "I don't want to hear it," Plankton says, his voice ice cold. "You've said enough." He turns away, his antennae twitching angrily. "Just get out. Leave me alone." Chip stands there, his small hand hovering in the air, wanting to comfort his dad, but not knowing how. His voice shakes with pain. "But Dad, I-" Plankton turns back to him, his antennae snapping with anger. "You don't get it, do you?" he shouts, his voice rising. "You never have!" His eye widens, his body tenses. "I'm not your little science project to poke and prod when you're curious!" Chip takes a step back, his eyes wide with fear. He's never seen his dad like this before, so out of control. "Daddy, I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice trembling. But Plankton's anger seems to grow with every word, his body shaking. "You don't get to be sorry!" he roars, his antennae quivering violently. "You don't get to just say sorry and expect me to be okay with it!" Chip's eyes are wide with fear, his body frozen in place. He's never seen his dad like this, his normally stoic demeanor shattered by a storm of emotions. "Daddy, please," Chip whispers, his voice barely audible. But Plankton's anger is like a tsunami, crashing against the walls of the room. "You think you can fix me with a sorry?" Plankton's voice booms, his antennae flailing. "You think your pity can make everything okay?" Chip shrinks back, his eyes wide with fear. So Karen decides to jump in to mediate. "Plankton, honey," Karen says, her voice steady. "Chip's only trying to understand. He's scared for you. Let's just sit down on the bed." Plankton's antennae slow their frantic dance as he looks at her, his eye slightly less fiery. With a heavy sigh, he nods, and they all sit down, a tense silence filling the room. Chip's eyes are glued to his father, searching for any sign of softening in his gaze. Plankton's breaths come in short, shallow bursts, his body still taut with emotion. After a moment, Karen speaks up, her voice a gentle reminder. "Remember, Plankton, Chip's just a child," she says, her tone soothing. "He doesn't understand everything about your condition yet." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye still glaring at his son. "I know," he murmurs, his voice low. Karen gives Chip a reassuring look. "Why don't you tell your dad what you know about autism?" she suggests, trying to ease the tension. Chip nods, taking a deep breath. "Well, I know it's like his brain works differently," he starts, his voice wobbly. "And sometimes, it makes things hard for him, like too much noise or little things that don't bother me." He looks at Plankton. Plankton's antennae stiffen slightly, his gaze still sharp. "And I know he has these... these breaks," Chip continues, his voice gaining strength. "Where he needs to get away from everything for—" "Absence seizures," Plankton says, his voice flat. "They're called absence seizures." Chip's eyes widen. "Oh, right. Those moments when you zone out," he says, trying to remember the right words. Plankton nods, his antennae still tense. Karen watches the exchange, her heart breaking for both of them. She knows this is hard for Plankton to admit, and even harder for Chip to understand. "They're a part of his autism, Chip." Chip nods, his eyes firmly on his father. "So, when you have one of those... seizures, it's like your brain needs to take a break?" Plankton sighs. "Yeah," he says, his voice weary. "It's like... everything gets too much, and my brain just shuts down for a bit. It's not something I can control. Are you satisfied?" Chip looks at him with innocent curiosity. "What's it like?" he asks, his voice soft. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye flickering with memory. "Dad, what's it li—" Plankton's hand shoots up, cutting him off. "It's like nothing you could ever understand," he says, his voice tight with anger. "So just leave it, okay?" Chip's eyes fill with unshed tears. "But Dad," he whispers, his voice shaking. "I just want to kn-" Plankton's antennae snap upward, his anger palpable. "You're just a kid, playing at being adult!" His antennae quiver with the intensity of his emotions, his body tense with frustration. Chip shrinks back, his cheeks wet with tears. "But Dad," he whispers, "I just-" "Don't," Plankton says, his voice cutting like a knife. "Don't pretend you get it." Chip's eyes are wide with fear and confusion. "But Dad," he says, his voice trembling. "I'm not..." But Plankton's anger continues to build, his antennae quivering like live wires. "You don't get it, Chip!" he roars. "You're just a kid who thinks he can fix everything with a hug and a sorry!" His words cut deep, each one a knife to Chip's heart. Chip's eyes fill with tears, his voice barely above a whisper. "But Daddy, I just want to help," he says, his hand trembling as it reaches out. Plankton's antennae shoot up, his body tensing. "Don't touch me," he snaps, his eye wild with agitation as he throws a pillow from the bed down by his side. Chip's hand retreats as if burned, his eyes wide with fear. "But Daddy, I just-" "I said don't touch me!" Plankton's voice is a roar, his antennae whipping around like angry snakes. He stands, his whole body a testament to his rage. Chip stumbles backward, his heart racing. He's never seen his father like this, his normally calm demeanor shattered by a tempest of emotions.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣶⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣹⣟⣫⣼⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣐⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁

whoever said "guy stop f-ing saying this web needs to be a f-ing app like what the f-k there lots of f-ing beef like do you guys have brain cells of a d-k sh-t like get a life if you care about f-ing 8 year olds then dont make this a f-ing app if you f-ing do more little kids will get draked like what the skidi bro get a f-ing bro°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･" please chill out like multiple people have said this is a website where little kids come on here to find cute combos so please be respectful ౨ৎ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

🙅🙅⬜🙅🪚🖕🏼🇳🇱🗡️🗡️🪚⬜⬜🇳🇱🇳🇱⬜ ⬜🙅🙅🪚🗡️🇳🇱🇳🇱🖕🏼🖕🏼🗡️🖕🏼🇳🇱🪚⬜🪚 🙅🙅🪚🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🪚🗡️🖕🏼🙅🖕🏼🗡️🗡️🖕🏼 🙅🙅🗡️⬜🇳🇱⬜🪚🪚🗡️🙅⬜🗡️🗡️🙅🙅 ⬜🗡️🗡️🗡️🪚🖕🏼🗡️🖕🏼🇳🇱🪚🙅🙅🖕🏼⬜🪚 🙅⬜🇳🇱🖕🏼🖕🏼🗡️🗡️⬜🖕🏼⬜🪚🗡️🙅🗡️🖕🏼 ⬜🗡️⬜⬜🗡️🖕🏼⬜⬜🗡️⬜🙅🙅🗡️🗡️🙅 🗡️🗡️🪚🪚🗡️🪚🇳🇱🪚🙅🪚🙅🪚⬜🇳🇱🙅 🗡️🪚⬜🗡️🗡️🇳🇱🖕🏼🖕🏼🗡️🖕🏼🪚🗡️🖕🏼🖕🏼🗡️ 🖕🏼🪚🗡️🙅🪚🗡️🖕🏼🪚🇳🇱🙅🗡️🙅⬛🖕🏼⬜ 🪚🪚🪚🗡️⬜🪚⬜🗡️🙅🙅🪚🖕🏼🙅⬜🖕🏼 🙅🪚⬜🗡️🪚🪚🖕🏼⬜🗡️🪚🙅🗡️🙅🇳🇱⬜ ⬜🗡️🗡️🙅🪚🪚🗡️⬜🗡️🗡️🙅🖕🏼🗡️⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜🖕🏼🙅🗡️🪚🙅🇳🇱🙅🖕🏼🙅⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜🙅⬜🗡️🇳🇱🇳🇱🗡️🖕🏼🖕🏼⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜

guy stop fucking saying this web needs to be a fucking app like what the fuck there lots of fucking beef like do you guys have brain cells of a dick shit like get a life if you care about fucking 8 year olds then dont make this a fucking app if you fucking do more little kids will get draked like what the skidi bro get a fucking bro°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣐⡚⠒⠢⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡹⠦⠤⠶⠭⢦⣠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠤⡤⣤⣤⡴⠋⣿⠁⠀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡡⡳⡮⣠⡞⢬⠏⠉⠁⠈⠙⡆⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠋⠀⠘⢿⣽⣾⡿⢚⠥⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⡅⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⢀⣤⠝⠛⠈⠑⠈⠉⠁⣀⣼⠋⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠤⠜⠓⠊⠁⠈⠻⢶⣄⣀⣤⣴⣾⠟⠁⡰⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠔⢊⢆⠤⠤⡤⠤⢤⣴⣶⣶⠿⡿⠿⣿⡧⢂⠔⡹⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣠⣤⣴⣶⡶⡺⣱⣶⣧⣸⣀⠀⢳⡀⣤⣶⠿⢦⡀⣠⠔⢉⠔⠁⣰⠀⠀⠀ ⢄⣻⡿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠘⢿⣷⣄⠀⠻⣥⣀⡁⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠛⠿⣻⢿⣟⣦⣻⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣦⢀⢠⢙⠞⣛⣖⡸⠄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠚⠿⣟⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣸⣼⣧⣻⠶⣟⣡⣤⠶⠚ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠑⠢⢄⣈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠥⠔⠒⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠲⡶⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

_____________66666_____________ ____________6666666____________ _____________66666_____________ ______________666______________ ______________666______________ ______________666______________ ______________666______________ ______________666______________ ______________666______________ ______________666______________ ______6_______666_______6______ _____666______666______666_____ ____66666666666666666666666____ ____66666666666666666666666____ _____666______666______666_____ ______6_______666_______6______ _____________66666_____________ ____________6666666____________ _____________66666_____________

✿ heart

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠊⠉⠉⠙⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⣀⠤⠤⠤⣀⠀⠀⢐⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠖⠉⠀⢀⣀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠋⢀⡴⠀⠙⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡄⠀⠀⠉⠀⠜⠋⠃⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⡤⣄⡀⠀⡤⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⡄⠀⠀⠁⢀⢠⡆⠀⠠⠴⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢦⡀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⢄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⠾⠋⠙⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢣⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠊⠒⠈⠈⢅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

★🍞🔥 TOSTADORAS FOREVER (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) #OC 🔥🍞★‹𝟹

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 6 Plankton's eye closes, his breathing deepens into snores. Karen watches him for a moment, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep. "You're okay," she whispers, her voice a soft ripple in the quiet room. "You're safe now." Her words hang in the air, a comforting lullaby, when Karen's friend Hanna unexpectedly arrives. "Karen?" Hanna's voice is a splash of cold water, jolting Karen to the present. She quickly wipes Plankton's mouth and stands up, turning to face her friend. "Is everything alright?" Hanna's eyes widen, noticing Karen's husband Plankton on the couch, his mouth open, snoring softly. Karen laughs nervously. "Oh, yes," she says, her voice a bit too high. "Just a little... dental procedure." Hanna looks with concern. "My place is getting a remodel, I don't know where else to stay..." she asks, her eyes scanning Plankton's sleeping form. Karen nods, her smile reassuring. "Of course, you can stay here," she says, her voice a warm embrace. "The spare room's good." Hanna looks at Plankton, still snoring peacefully. "Is he okay?" she whispers. "I know I've never personally met him.." Karen nods, her voice a whisper. "Yes, he's fine," she says, her hand on his forehead. "Just sleepy." Hanna's eyes flicker with concern. "What happened?" she asks, her voice a soft ripple of curiosity. Karen hesitates, her hand still resting on Plankton's head. "It's nothing to worry about," she says, her voice a gentle breeze. "Just a little dental work." Hanna nods, her eyes studying Plankton. "Is he going to be okay?" she whispers, her voice a soft ripple of concern. "Why's he tired?" Karen sighs, her smile slightly forced. "It's just... part of the process," she says, avoiding the mention of teeth. "They had to give him some medicine to help him sleep." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "He seems so peaceful," she says, her voice a soft caress. "What was it for?" Karen's smile is tight. "Everything is just fine, Hanna. He might not want me to say much without his permission." Hanna nods, understanding. "Of course, I didn't mean to pry." She looks around the room. "It's just, I've never seen anyone sleep so... peaceful?" Karen laughs softly, her voice a gentle ripple. "It's the medicine," she says. "They had to give him something to relax." Hanna nods, her gaze lingering on Plankton's sleeping form. Karen decides it's time to wake him, gently shaking his shoulder. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a soft nudge. "Wake up, sweetheart." Plankton's eye opens with a start, his antennae shooting up. "Whath...whathapened?" he mumbles, his speech still slurred. Karen laughs, her voice a warm embrace. "We need to get you into bed," she says, her eyes twinkling with love. "My friend Hanna came, and she'll stay in the guest room." Plankton blinks, his antennae waving erratically. "Han-Han?" he mumbles, his voice a slurred song. "Whaths...whaths?" Hanna waves, her smile genuine. "Hi, Plankton," she says. "Nice to meet you.." But Plankton, still groggy, mumbles incoherently, his eye half-closed. "Muff...muff...muffins," he says, his tongue thick. Karen laughs, her voice a warm laugh. "It's okay, sweetheart, you're just tired," she says, guiding him to his feet. He sways, his body still under the anesthesia's spell. "Muff...muffins," he repeats, his voice a sleepy mumble. Karen rolls her eyes, her smile a gentle curve. "No muffins," she says, her voice a soothing wave. "It's night.." His antennae droop, his mind a jumbled mess. "B-but... you promithed..." he slurs, his eye struggling to focus. Karen laughs, her voice a warm caress. "Oh, Plankton," she says, helping him to the bedroom. They reach the bed, and she helps him lie down, his body collapsing onto the mattress. "Just sleep, love," she whispers, her hand stroking his. Hanna watches from the doorway, her smile a mix of amusement and concern. "Is he going to be okay?" she asks again. Karen nods, her voice a reassuring lullaby. "Yes, just rest is what he needs," she says. "It'll will wear off completely in the morning; we all need our sleep." But Plankton, not quite ready to drift away, reaches his arms out. "Pweath...picture," he mumbles, his hand reaching for Hanna's. Hanna, surprised by his sudden request, pulls out her phone, the screen a bright beacon in the dim room. "A selfie?" she whispers, her voice a questioning bubble. Karen nods, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I'll get you gauze first," she says, helping him sit up slightly. Hanna, unsure but willing, holds out her phone, the screen glowing with potential. "Ready?" she asks, her voice a soft whisper. Plankton nods, his antennae bobbing. Karen carefully places the gauze pads in Plankton's mouth, his eye widening slightly at the unexpected sensation. "Now," she says, her voice a gentle prompt. "There." Hanna holds the phone steadily, the camera lens a tiny window into their world. Plankton's arm wraps around her shoulder, his antennae sticking out like party horns. "Cheeese," he mumbles through the gauze, his voice slurred but earnest. The flash goes off, illuminating the room briefly. Hanna looks at the photo, her smile warm. "You got it, Plankton," she says, handing him the phone. His eye squints, trying to focus on the screen. Karen laughs softly, watching them from the bedside. "You two are adorable," she says, her voice a gentle tease. Plankton looks at her, his mouth still full of gauze. With a thumbs up from Plankton, Hanna posts the selfie, the image of their smiles and Plankton's comical gauze-filled grin floating into the digital abyss of her social media feed. The caption reads: "Visiting Karen! Featuring @ Plankton 😂🦷💊" The notification sounds chime through the quiet room, a digital symphony of likes and laughing emojis. Plankton's eye widen, his antennae perking up. "What's that?" he asks, his voice a groggy whisper. Hanna laughs. "Everyone thinks you're cute. Now I gotta get some rest myself!" Plankton's antennae droop, his eye heavy with sleep. "M-more...m-muffins?" he asks, his voice a slurred plea. Karen laughs, her voice a warm hug. "No more, Plankton," she says, placing a kiss on his forehead. "You need to sleep now." Plankton closes his eye, succumbing to the gentle pull of sleep. Karen and Hanna watch him for a moment, his snores the only sound in the quiet room. Hanna's smile is warm. "He's so cute," she whispers. They both watch as Plankton's snores fill the room, his body finally at peace. Hanna's concern fades into curiosity. "What's with the muffins?" she asks, her voice a whisper. Karen giggles, her hand still on his. "It's just the remnants of meds talking," she says, her voice a gentle wave. "He'll be himself in the morning." She stands up, her movements smooth as a dolphin's. "Let's get you settled in the guest room now.."

អានស្រីសុំ ⚠️

Ⓜhi

⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣄⣤⣠⣄⣤⠤⢤⣠⠤⠠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠤⠤⢤⡤⠤⢠⠄⠤⣀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⣀⠠⠄⠤⠤⣤⣤⡤⣤⠤⠤⠠⢤⡠⠄ ⡇⠀⡀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⢀⡠⢂⢥⠖⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡈⠒⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣦⡑⢄⠀⡜⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠄⠁⡐⠀⢂⠐⠀⢂⠐⠀⢂⠐⠀⠂⠐⡀⠂⠐⠀⢂⠐⠀⠂⠠⠀⣢⡫⢪⠕⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⠊⢀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡀⠘⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢢⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⡘⠀⠄⡁⢂⠠⠈⢀⠂⡁⠂⠄⡈⠄⠡⠐⡈⠄⢁⠀⢂⠡⠈⠄⡼⢋⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠁⠀⠐⠁⠀⠀⡀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠰⠀⢱⡀⠀⢀⡤⠚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⡠⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠰⠋⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠇⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠤⠁⢂⠐⠠⠀⠐⡀⠂⠄⡁⠂⠀⠐⠠⢁⠐⠈⡀⢈⠀⠂⡁⠄⣡⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⠀⠐⠁⢀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⢁⠔⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠈⢰⡐⡙⠀⣀⣀⣀⡠⢒⣝⠭⠊⢀⠌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠐⠠⠁⠂⠌⡀⠐⠀⠠⢁⠂⡐⠀⠁⠠⠁⠂⠌⡀⠠⠀⢂⠁⠄⢰⠁⡐⠀⠀⠀⢠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠁⡠⠂⢀⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠠⠊⡠⠈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡆⡗⠀⡷⠅⢂⠔⢁⢐⠡⠀⠒⢀⡉⠩⠭⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⣁⠂⢁⠂⡐⠀⠌⢀⠂⡐⠠⠁⠄⡁⢂⠁⢂⠐⠠⠁⠂⠌⡀⡇⡔⡇⠀⢠⢁⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⠀⣰⢀⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⢔⠤⣊⠀⠀⠃⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⢧⡇⠌⠀⠀⣎⠔⢉⣠⣄⢂⡉⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠐⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠈⠝⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠄⠂⠄⢂⠐⠈⠀⠂⡐⠠⠁⠌⡐⠠⠀⡈⢀⠂⢁⠈⡐⠠⠀⣿⢠⢧⠀⡄⠆⡐⠀⠀⠀⢀⠊⠀⠀⡗⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠈⠐⢼⠀⠸⠀⠀⣀⢞⠪⠍⠚⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠔⠂⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠎⡪⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠈⠄⡁⠌⡀⠂⠡⠈⡐⠀⠡⢈⠠⠐⠀⡥⣄⠂⡀⠂⠄⡀⢁⠐⠈⡼⢸⡀⢸⢰⠁⠀⠀⢀⠂⠀⠀⢀⡔⠀⠀⠀⢀⠌⠀⠀⣀⠄⣀⠀⠀⠸⠀⡆⢠⠞⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⠉⠀⠐⠠⠄⡀⠈⢀⠀⣐⢄⠀⢀⡠⠄⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠌⡀⠐⠠⠁⢂⠁⢠⡁⠂⠄⢂⠡⢸⡼⡋⠷⡀⢁⠂⡐⢀⠂⡁⢳⡞⢄⣟⣯⠀⠀⠀⡮⠆⠀⠔⠱⠀⠀⠀⡠⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢶⣅⡀⠀⣰⢔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣕⡠⡀⢋⠓⢧⡀⠈⠁⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠒⡀⢁⠂⡁⠂⠌⢀⡐⢈⠐⡀⠂⠌⣷⡰⠀⠘⢆⠀⠐⡀⢂⠐⠈⢃⣼⣿⡦⣾⡀⣥⢱⡠⠊⠀⡆⣰⢃⠊⠀⠀⡴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⡧⡗⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠄⠐⡆⠤⢀⠀⠀⠐⡀⠉⠲⣧⡈⠪⢄⠀⠀⠈⠄⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠠⠁⠄⢂⠐⡀⠡⠈⡈⢁⡀⠂⢀⠁⢂⠘⣵⡑⢄⣈⡆⠁⠄⠀⢂⠐⠾⢉⣿⣿⣾⡞⡇⠘⠀⠀⠀⣠⡯⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⢠⠳⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡎⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⢡⠀⠉⠛⢗⡒⠲⠤⠤⠴⣦⠑⠨⡖⠄⡀⠘⡀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⢁⠆⠀⠆⠰⢀⠁⢀⠁⡀⠁⠆⠈⡀⢀⠈⢎⡰⢎⡇⠈⡀⢁⠀⠆⡀⢸⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠰⠈⣸⠆⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⡾⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⠆⠀⠀⠀⠉⣶⡇⠀⠀⠀⠱⡀⢇⠀⠉⡆⡇⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⡀⠌⡀⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⡀⠂⠠⢀⠈⢹⡀⠠⠐⠠⢈⠐⡀⢸⡿⡏⠀⢿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠑⠒⠀⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡏⠀⡆⠀⠀⡎⢰⠁⡘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠈⠆⡀⠠⠤⠀⠈⢻⡦⠀⠀⠀⠈⠺⣀⡀⡸⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⢀⠉⠄⠂⠄⠂⠐⠠⠐⠈⠠⠁⡀⠂⠄⠠⠁⢀⠈⡀⠹⡄⢂⠁⡀⠂⠐⡈⢀⠠⠀⣸⢿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡇⡃⠀⢁⠀⠀⡄⡞⡰⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠟⡀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⠃⠀⠀⠠⠤⢤⠟⢑⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠌⡀⠌⠠⠁⠌⠠⠁⣈⡐⠀⠄⠂⡰⠋⠆⠂⠐⡀⠡⠘⢆⠐⡀⢁⠂⠐⡀⠀⢂⠀⠄⣹⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⣴⢾⡿⠘⣷⠀⠈⡄⠀⣇⢰⠁⠀⢡⠀⣠⠎⠠⠊⠀⡡⢣⣤⣤⣼⣤⣰⡀⠀⢹⠀⡌⢻⠉⣀⣤⣣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠒⡀⠌⠠⠁⠌⡐⢸⠍⠹⡀⠌⠀⡇⠀⢸⠀⠡⠐⠠⠁⢈⠣⡐⠠⢈⠐⠠⠁⡤⣤⡦⠿⠾⠧⠯⣿⣷⣤⡤⣤⠖⠊⠁⢠⠃⠉⠰⠇⠸⡆⠄⠐⣄⠑⢹⢀⣠⣼⡮⠘⠁⠀⠀⣀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠐⠛⠗⡄⡴⡩⢺⢀⣴⡟⣟⡾⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠠⠁⠄⡈⠐⠈⡐⢀⠸⡄⠀⢇⠠⠁⣡⠀⢸⠀⠄⠁⠄⠂⠠⠀⠉⠳⣤⣈⣠⣴⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡀⠀⡉⢀⣘⠀⠁⠢⢀⠟⣆⠁⢸⠀⠀⠘⠌⠀⠌⣅⣾⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠤⠃⠀⠀⠀⠠⣢⡢⠀⠀⢎⠈⢸⣱⢇⡿⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠡⠂⠠⢁⠂⡐⠠⠀⢣⠀⠸⣀⣴⡟⠀⠸⣷⡶⣶⣶⣶⡶⢿⠿⡟⠟⠩⣡⠎⠀⠀⠀⡠⠚⢛⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠁⠺⡟⠲⡆⠢⣀⠈⠂⢀⠀⠉⣀⠔⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠂⠅⠀⢰⠐⢉⣾⡳⣛⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⣁⠂⡁⢂⠐⠠⠐⢀⠈⣆⠀⢻⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣟⡿⣽⣛⣯⢿⣋⢖⡽⠱⡀⠀⡠⠊⣠⣴⣿⣿⠁⣿⠀⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣜⣀⡘⢗⢌⡙⠂⠴⠺⢛⠉⠩⡠⠒⠀⢀⣠⠔⠂⠈⠉⠉⠙⡀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡶⣖⣡⣗⣿⣿⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠄⠂⡐⠠⢈⠠⠐⡤⠾⣿⡄⠀⢻⡟⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣟⡷⣭⡏⡇⠀⠡⠈⣠⡾⣿⣿⣿⡇⣸⣿⣦⣿⡿⠀⠀⢀⠔⠅⡛⢦⠈⠓⣆⠈⢁⠒⠀⠤⣌⣋⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡿⡿⠋⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣁⣤⠤⠤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠈⠄⡁⠠⠐⢀⢠⢾⠁⠀⡀⠇⠀⠈⠅⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠀⡅⠀⣴⡿⢋⣼⡿⣿⡿⢀⣿⢿⣿⣿⠇⢣⠾⣕⢪⣴⠳⡔⣻⣤⢸⣠⣴⣧⣄⡹⣵⣤⡀⠀⠀⡀⠡⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⣡⠀⡠⠊⢰⡟⠁⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠹⣇⠘⢄⠀⠈⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠐⡈⠄⠠⢁⢠⠋⠉⡆⠀⢡⠀⠀⠀⡠⢐⡀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡙⢸⠀⠇⠸⣿⣴⣿⠟⣰⣿⠃⣸⣿⠘⠛⢁⣴⣿⣛⣮⢷⣺⣎⢙⡶⠽⠿⠿⠟⢲⡖⣯⡽⣳⢋⡷⠊⢡⣄⢀⣀⣀⡀⣀⣠⡾⠏⢣⠃⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠙⠕⡤⢉⡒⠀⣻⢂⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠐⠀⠄⠁⣤⣿⣓⡀⠈⠢⡠⡄⠒⡎⠉⠀⢀⠁⠸⣿⣿⣿⡟⡑⠀⢸⠀⠰⠀⢻⡿⢃⣼⡿⠇⢀⣿⡏⢀⣴⣿⣿⣾⣿⣯⣟⠃⠟⠁⢀⣠⣤⠤⠒⠋⠉⢣⣿⣽⣏⣷⡦⡨⠿⠿⠮⣚⣿⠿⣫⠎⠀⠈⢄⢠⠁⠀⠀⠂⠀⠈⣇⣦⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠲⠾⠵⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠗⠒⠚⠒⠒⠛⠛⠛⠚⠓⠚⠓⠛⠓⠒⠒⠚⠒⠒⠒⠛⠛⠛⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠛⠛⠚⠒⠚⠛⠓⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠒⠚⠒⠒⠚⠓⠒⠒⠒⠒⠚⠛⠛⠚⠛⠛⠓⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠚⠛⠛⠒⠒⠒⠒⠓⠒⠚⠒⠒⠒⠒⠓⠛⠓⠚⠛⠛⠛⠛⠓⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢲⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⠂⢉⠤⠐⠋⠈⠡⡈⠉⠐⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⢠⣤⠔⠁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢢⠀⠀⠈⠱⡤⣤⠄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠰⠁⠀⣰⣿⠃⠀⢠⠃⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⢞⣦⡀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢇⣠⡿⠁⠀⢀⡃⠀⣈⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⠰⠀⠀⢺⣧⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⠁⡘⠀⡌⡇⠀⡿⠸⠀⠀⠀⠈⡕⡄⠀⠐⡀⠈⠀⢃⠀⠀⠾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⡇⠃⢠⠀⠶⡀⡇⢃⠡⡀⠀⠀⠡⠈⢂⡀⢁⠀⡁⠸⠀⡆⠘⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⢸⠀⠘⡜⠀⣑⢴⣀⠑⠯⡂⠄⣀⣣⢀⣈⢺⡜⢣⠀⡆⡇⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⢸⠀⡗⣰⡿⡻⠿⡳⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡵⠿⠿⡻⣷⡡⡇⡇⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⠀⠀⡆⡄⣧⡏⠸⢠⢲⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢙⢰⠂⢡⠘⣇⡇⠃⠀⠀⢹⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠟⠀⠀⢰⢁⡇⠇⠰⣀⢁⡜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣀⣁⠌⠀⠃⠰⠀⠀⠀⠈⠰⠀⠀ ⠀⡘⠀⠀⠀⠀⢊⣤⠀⠀⠤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠄⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀ ⢠⠁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀ ⠘⠸⠘⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⡇ ⠀⠇⢆⢃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⢲⢤⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠄⡚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀ ⢰⠈⢌⢎⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣌⠆⡰⡁⠉⠉⠀⠉⠁⡱⡘⡼⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢬⠃⢠⠀⡆ ⠀⢢⠀⠑⢵⣧⡀⠀⠀⡿⠳⠂⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢺⡀⠀⠀⢀⢠⣮⠃⢀⠆⡰⠀ ⠀⠀⠑⠄⣀⠙⡭⠢⢀⡀⠀⠁⠄⣀⣀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⡠⠂⢃⡀⠔⠱⡞⢁⠄⣁⠔⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠖⣀⠉⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⣶⣶⣦⣤⣄⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⢿⣛⡟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⣛⠛⠛⣟⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡉⣁⣘⣀⣀⡛⠀⠉⠀⠀⠉⠉⠳⢽⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠡⠤⠤⢄⡀⠉⠉⡿⣷⣆⠀⠀⡇⠈⣿⡇⢈⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⣶⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣷⡎⢿⣄⣴⣧⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢩⣯⣝⢿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣴⣿⣥⣼⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠁⢤⡈⣿⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⡷⠿⠻⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⣼⡏⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣄⣶⣷⢻⡀⠀⠸⡆⢹⡇⠀⠈⠙⠛⠋⠃⣨⡿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢨⣿⡿⠋⢀⣼⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⠃⢸⣇⠀⠀⠻⣾⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⡿⠁⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⣁⣤⣴⣞⡽⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡟⢷⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠓⠛⢛⢛⣭⠄⠀⠀⠀⡀⢹⣿⣿⣧⣤⡈⢻⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡶⣽⣿⡾⠂⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠳⣤⣤⣤⣤⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣯⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⢿⣷⠀⠀⠿⠂⠀⠀⢸⣿⣠⣴⣿⣿⣦⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣟⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠰⢲⠄⣦⣤⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣷⡀⣼⠀⢸⢡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡏⢷⣼⡄⠈⢸⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠈⠻⣿⡀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠃⠈⠁ ⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⢠⣍⣉⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠋⠉⣉⡉⠉⠉⠉⣉⡩⠯⠉⠁⣄⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣁⣠⣄⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣤⣴⣶⣄⡉⢿⠶⠁⣠⣶⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠ ⣬⣿⣏⣹⣿⣭⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⢹⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣯⠉⠉⠀⣠⣴⣷⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢀⣉⢀⡀⠛ ⣁⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠙⣿⣿⣷⣤⣾⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢀⡀⠈⠛⠛ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢙⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣜⣿⣦⡀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣄⣸⣿⣿⡿⠀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣯⡔⣽⣟⠿⣿⣿⣛⢷⡄ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣉⠉⠉⢉⣛⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣛⠛⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

🌙✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⡿⠿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⣿⢿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⢌⠳⣘⢂⠓⡌⠌⡑⢈⠐⠁⠐⠀⢢⢾⣿⣿⣧⣿⡄⠈⠄⠃⠌⡑⣈⠒⡑⣊⠜⡰⢊⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⢌⠣⠌⡌⠒⢈⠐⠀⠄⠂⠈⠀⢰⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠂⠐⠀⠄⡘⠐⠤⡙⢰⠩⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⢂⠣⡘⠠⠈⢀⠠⠈⠀⠀⠀⢰⢫⣿⣿⠇⢹⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠂⠈⢀⠠⠈⡐⠌⣂⠓⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠠⢃⠄⡁⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⡀⠠⠐⢀⠘⡠⢉⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠐⡁⠂⠀⠄⠁⠀⠀⢀⠎⣸⣿⣿⣿⣤⠀⢠⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠂⠠⢑⠨⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠠⠁⠄⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⣎⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠁⠌⡰⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣀⣡⣤⣾⣶⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠉⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⡏⠉⡉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠷⠶⣶⣦⣅⣐⡠⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣶⣶⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣤⣄⣀⠀⠉⠛⠻⢿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡾⠛⠁⢀⣠⣴⡾⠛⢋⡿⣱⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⡁⢸⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠙⠻⢷⣦⣄⡀⠈⠛⠷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⢴⣾⣿⣏⡁⠀⣠⡿⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⡅⢸⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⢀⣈⣻⣿⣷⡦⠄⠈⠻⣶⣄⠀ ⠈⠙⠻⠶⣦⣤⣀⡀⠉⠙⠻⠷⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⠆⢸⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠿⠛⠋⠉⢀⣀⣤⡴⠶⠛⠋⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⣿⣷⣶⣤⣄⡀⠈⠉⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣇⡀⠉⢻⡇⣼⠏⠁⢀⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠁⣀⣠⣤⣶⣾⡟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣀⡀⠉⠛⠛⠷⣿⣦⣿⡷⠿⠛⠋⠁⢀⣠⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡤⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣄⣀⠈⢁⣀⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⢻⡏⣿⠋⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⡇⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠀⢸⡇⣿⠀⠘⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

𓃎

🍎💫🌱🍄✨☁️🎧📀🕯️🪩♡

qಇ.𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ𝐒𝐭✰𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆❷‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒔𝒉𝒂 ᥫ᭡.⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆༺♡༻☽♛𑁤ྀི𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽?❶❸𝓕𝓾𝓬𝓴ɪ፝֟ᥫ᭡★✧˖°🌷📎⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚ひ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི≽^•⩊•^≼ꜝꜝ⋆˚✿˖°❛❛❞❻❼❾❿⩇⩇:⩇⩇🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐𐙚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❧

😉😊𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭ᡣ𐭩vj🇿🇿

<3≽^•⩊•^≼3️⃣‹𝟹🤟💗👀🪐⋆⭒˚｡⋆⋆⭒˚｡⋆꒰✿´ ꒳ ` ꒱♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ🫀ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ✰(●´з｀人´ε｀●)🕸️✧˖°.𔓘☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა☽☾🤍ㅤ ᵕ̈♡︎ℒ𝓸𝓿𝒆 𝔂𝓸𝓾ᶠYͧoͨᵏu𓀐𓂸𓀐𓂸｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ🌸 ‹3 ♡ ☺

𓏿

⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁

𓎋

6️

𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟒𝟓𝟔𝟕𝟖𝟗 ①②③④⑤⑥⑦⑧⑨ １２３４５６７８９ 𝟙𝟚𝟛𝟜𝟝𝟞𝟟𝟠𝟡 ➊➋➌➍➎➏➐➑➒ ¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸⁹ ₁₂₃₄₅₆₇₈₉ 1̶2̶3̶4̶5̶6̶7̶8̶9̶ 1̲2̲3̲4̲5̲6̲7̲8̲9̲ 1̳2̳3̳4̳5̳6̳7̳8̳9̳ 【1】【2】【3】【4】【5】【6】【7】【8】【9】 『1』『2』『3』『4』『5』『6』『7』『8』『9』

💗

𓂲

:3✩°｡⋆⸜(˙꒳​˙ )🛩☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

🚗audi a6

𓐉

1️⃣2️⃣3️⃣4️⃣5️⃣6️⃣7️⃣8️⃣9️⃣🔟✅✔️✔️ ⚡✨

𓅓6️

𓍧

🐱5️⃣6️⃣🐱

clouds and white heart🫶 clean girl

𓅓

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⠁⠀⢀⠀⠄⣀⠂⡐⡀⠆⡐⠠⢂⠐⣀⠂⠄⡀⢀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⡀⡐⠠⢁⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⠡⠐⡀⠆⡁⠂⠌⢠⠈⡐⠈⡄⠌⡐⡀⢂⠀⡀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠟⣋⣠⣤⣤⣦⣅⣐⠠⢁⠂⠌⡐⠠⠁⡌⢁⠂⣁⠂⡐⢉⠐⣀⠂⡁⠒⡀⠒⠠⠐⣁⣢⣴⣤⣤⣄⣈⠻⢿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣴⣠⢁⠒⡀⢂⠡⢀⠂⣁⠂⠌⣀⠂⡁⣂⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣝⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⡉⢁⢂⠐⡀⢂⡐⢀⠂⠌⡉⢙⠂⠤⢁⠂⢂⠡⢀⠌⡐⢀⠒⠋⠍⡁⢂⠐⣀⠂⡐⡀⢂⠉⡉⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⡿⠛⠡⢀⠂⠌⡐⠠⢁⠂⠌⡐⠠⠐⡈⡐⢂⢁⠂⠌⡐⠠⠊⠄⢂⡁⠂⢌⠠⠌⠒⡈⢐⠈⡐⡀⢂⠡⠐⡈⡐⠄⡁⢃⠰⢀⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⠛⠀⡀⠇⠠⢘⠠⢀⠃⢄⠘⡠⢀⠃⢃⠠⢀⠄⠄⡘⠠⣀⠣⠘⣀⠃⡀⠛⡀⠄⡘⠠⢀⠃⡘⠠⢀⠃⠄⢃⠠⢀⡘⠠⡀⠄⠄⠃⡜⠀⠛⢿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⡿⠃⢀⢂⠡⢈⠒⡀⠆⠡⡈⠄⠒⣀⠂⠡⠌⡐⠂⠌⡐⠠⡁⠄⢂⠡⢀⢂⠁⠒⢠⠘⠠⢁⠂⠡⠄⠃⠄⠊⢄⡁⠂⠆⢠⠁⡰⢈⠐⠡⡀⠅⢂⠀⢻⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⠁⡐⠂⢄⠂⣁⠢⠐⡈⣔⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣄⠡⠊⠄⢡⠐⡈⠄⡂⡁⢂⠌⡁⢂⠌⡐⢂⠉⡐⡈⣬⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣒⢀⠂⠌⠡⠐⡈⠤⢈⠀⢻⣿⣿⡀⠀ ⠀⢰⣿⣿⠇⡐⠠⢁⠂⢌⢀⠂⣡⣾⠟⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⠉⠄⢂⠌⡐⠠⢁⢂⠰⠈⠄⡂⠔⢂⠡⣠⣿⠟⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠌⡐⠡⠐⢂⠂⠌⠠⢿⣿⣧⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⡟⠠⠠⠑⢂⠉⠄⠂⢬⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢈⠂⡐⡈⠤⢁⠂⠄⢃⠒⠠⠌⣀⣲⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡔⠠⡁⢡⠂⠌⢂⠁⠚⣿⣿⡆ ⢰⣿⣿⢁⠂⡑⡈⠄⠊⢌⠈⢼⣿⣿⣦⣤⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⢂⠡⠐⡐⠂⢌⠨⠄⡘⢀⠒⡀⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢁⡐⠂⠌⠰⠈⠄⢃⢻⣿⣷ ⣸⣿⡿⠠⠘⠠⠄⢃⠡⠂⢌⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⠂⡂⠥⠐⡉⠄⢂⠒⡈⠄⢂⠡⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⡠⠑⡈⢡⠘⡈⠄⢺⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⡇⣁⠊⠡⡈⠄⢂⠡⢂⠂⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠌⡐⠐⡠⠡⢐⠈⡄⠒⠠⡁⢊⠐⡘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠐⡈⠄⣁⠒⡀⠆⡐⠌⡘⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⡇⠄⠌⠡⢐⠨⠐⠂⠤⠁⡄⢙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠠⢁⠊⠄⡑⠠⢁⠂⢌⠠⠡⠁⠔⢂⠡⠐⡠⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠄⡡⠐⡈⠄⢂⠔⡐⠠⠒⠠⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⡇⢌⠨⠐⠂⡄⢃⠉⢄⠡⠐⣈⠐⡈⠍⠛⠛⠛⡉⠡⠄⠃⢌⠐⡈⠔⠠⠑⢂⠉⠄⢂⠡⢉⠐⠂⢌⡐⠄⠡⠂⢌⠉⠛⠛⢋⠩⠐⡈⠌⡐⠠⡁⠒⡈⠄⢂⠤⠑⡈⢡⣿⣿ ⢹⣿⣿⢀⢂⢉⠰⢀⢳⡈⠄⡂⠥⢀⢂⠡⠌⢂⠡⠒⡈⠡⢈⠌⡀⠎⡐⠈⡔⢁⠢⢈⠌⡐⠂⢌⠠⠉⡄⠐⣈⠡⠌⣀⠊⢡⠘⡀⠢⢁⢂⠡⠐⠡⠠⢑⡴⡈⢂⠤⢁⠂⣹⣿⣿ ⢸⣿⣿⡆⠠⢂⠂⠌⣀⠛⢶⣄⠒⣀⠂⢂⠌⡐⠠⠡⠐⡁⠢⠐⡐⡐⢀⠃⡐⠄⢂⡁⠢⠄⡉⠄⢂⠡⠄⠃⠄⡂⠔⠠⡈⠄⠒⠠⣁⠢⠄⠊⠌⣡⡶⠛⢠⠐⡁⠂⠤⢁⣼⣿⡟ ⠀⣿⣿⣷⠁⢂⠌⠂⠤⠘⡀⢛⢿⣶⣌⣄⠒⡈⠁⠆⣁⠂⢡⠡⠐⡠⢁⠒⢠⠘⠠⠠⢁⠒⢠⠘⡀⠆⡘⢈⡐⠐⡈⠡⢐⠈⣁⠒⡀⣂⣬⣶⡿⢋⠡⠘⣀⠢⠐⡉⢐⢰⣿⣿⠇ ⠀⠹⣿⣿⣎⠄⠌⡈⠤⢁⠒⡀⢂⡉⠻⢿⣿⣷⣧⣦⣄⣘⣀⠂⠅⡰⢀⠊⠄⠌⢂⠡⠂⠌⠄⠒⣀⠒⠠⡁⠄⠃⢌⣐⣡⣬⣴⣾⣿⡿⠟⡉⡐⠈⠤⠁⡄⢂⠡⠐⣌⣾⣿⡿⠀ ⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣧⣈⠐⡐⠂⠤⢁⠂⠤⢁⠂⡌⢉⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣴⣬⣤⣦⣥⣮⣬⣴⣤⣾⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢛⠋⠡⠐⡠⠐⢠⠉⢄⠡⠐⢂⠡⣸⣽⣿⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣷⡄⢣⡘⡐⢌⡌⢰⢈⡒⠤⡉⢔⠢⠄⡤⢉⠍⢛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⡻⢛⠋⡍⡉⢄⡰⢁⢢⠑⣌⠱⠄⣍⠢⡘⡄⢣⠑⣪⣜⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⡆⡜⠘⣦⠘⡆⢲⡌⢳⠘⡆⢳⠘⣴⠉⡞⣤⠋⠓⠒⢲⡜⢢⡇⡞⣥⢳⠘⢲⡜⢰⢣⠙⣴⠑⡎⣴⢩⡆⢫⡔⡍⣶⢨⡖⢱⡌⢣⢳⣴⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠳⣜⢳⡌⢧⣙⢦⡛⣼⡡⢏⣦⢛⡴⣡⢯⣙⢮⡱⡼⣌⠶⣱⢬⡆⣏⢦⡝⢦⡹⣜⢦⢳⣙⢦⢫⡜⣥⠳⣍⢦⡭⣒⢧⡹⢎⣶⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣜⢧⣛⡞⣼⢲⡹⣖⡽⢳⡜⣯⢖⡳⣞⡼⣲⢽⡱⣎⡟⣼⢣⡞⣭⢞⡼⣣⢗⡾⣜⣳⣚⢮⡳⣞⣱⢻⡜⣧⢞⡭⢶⣽⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣏⣞⡳⣏⢷⢮⡝⣧⣛⢶⣫⢗⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣾⡱⢯⣝⢮⡻⣜⢧⣻⣜⡳⢮⣝⢾⣱⢏⡞⣧⣻⣜⣯⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⢮⡟⡾⣵⢫⡷⣹⢮⣳⢯⡽⣞⣭⢟⡶⣻⡝⣮⡗⣯⡽⣞⡵⢾⣹⢏⣾⣣⡟⡾⣽⣺⣵⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣞⣽⡺⣭⠷⣏⡾⡵⣏⡾⣝⡾⣵⣫⢷⣹⢧⣻⡼⣝⣯⠾⣽⣲⢯⣽⣻⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣻⡽⣞⣽⣳⡽⣞⣵⡳⡽⣞⡽⡾⣵⣛⡾⣧⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠁⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣠⣥⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣤⣠⣤⣤⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣠⣌⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀ ⠀⢻⣿⣏⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⣩⣿⡿⠃ ⠀⠀⢻⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢀⣴⣿⡿⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠟⣱⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠙⣿⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⣰⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠈⠻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡟⠁⠀⣴⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠊⢻⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⠋⠀⠀⣴⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠟⠁⠠⠀⣠⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⡀⠀⣠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣢⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣷⣄⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠈⢿⣧⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⣧⡀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠃⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣰⣿⠃⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⣄⠀⢀⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠛⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⡀⠀⠂⢠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠃⠈⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⢀⣴⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣄⢰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡟⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠘⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠏⢀⠋⠻⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣆⠀⠐⠠⢠⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣆⠀⢠⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣦⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠋⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠋⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⢠⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠙⠻⣿⡟⠉⠁⢠⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣆⠈⠙⠋⣿⣿⡟⠋⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠹⣷⡄⢠⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⣼⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣾⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣿⣿⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡏⠐⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠏⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡟⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠋⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠋⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡟⠁⠘⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢀⠀⠈⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠄⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢿⣶⣦⣤⣴⣾⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣶⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠻⣷⠀⣰⣿⡟⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠛⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

🚗audi a6🚗🚗🍑𓂸🍑𓂸

6️⃣🦉

︵⁶🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️︵⁶

⣾⠛⣷ ⣾⠛⣷ ⣿⠶⣦ ⠻⠶⣿ ⢿⣤⡿ ⢿⣤⡿

3244424😂

👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨🍆🍑𓂸👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👌🏳️‍🌈🧔‍♂️🧔‍♂️🔞🏳️‍🌈🧑🏿‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏽🧑🏿‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏽

6️⃣7️⃣six,seven

"🦖"

🤷🏽‍♀️☝️㊙️🙅🇧🇩ℹℹ️☝🎨👎㊙👉🚫🚯🗂📠

"STOP DOING THIS STUFF! I AM TEN AND I WAS LOOKING FOR CUTE EMOJIS THAN I SAW THIS, WHAT IS THIS PLEASE STOP I AM TRAMATIZED 😭" then don't search fir shut you fucking dumbass <3( ^ω^ )*𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘴*

༘⊹ ࣪ ˖~🦕I🦖AM🦣DINO~⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˚ ༘꩜