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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣾⣿⢿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⡿⠿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⠿⠛⠉⠉⢀⣠⣾⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣦⠀⠈⠉⠙⠻⢿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⠿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣦⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣂⣤⡼⠿⢿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠉⢻⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠈⢿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠈⠹⣿⣤⣦⣸⣿⣿⡟⣿⣦⠀⠘⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⠇⠀⠀⢰⣿⠙⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠈⢹⣿⡇⠈⢿⣇⠀⢹⣿⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠘⣿⠀⠘⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠸⣿⡇⠀⠘⢿⣿⣟⠛⢳⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⠿⠻⣷⡄⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣿⠟⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⡀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⢟⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣷⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠀⢀⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⣿⣇⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣶⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣦⣍⣉⠉⠉⠀⢀⣀⣠⣴⣾⣿⠟⠁⠀⣸⣿⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⡄⠀⠀⣰⣾⣿⣿⣿⡛⠛⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠻⠛⢻⣿⣿⣯⣭⡀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣄⣰⣿⡟⠉⠻⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡿⠋⠙⢿⣿⣧⣤⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠛⠻⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣾⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣶⣴⣿⣿⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣼⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣷⡀⠀ ⣼⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⣷⣶⣶⣦⣶⣶⡿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣷⠀ ⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇ ⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⣶⣦⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣦⣤⣠⣤⣤⣤⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣄⡀⠉⢻⣿⡏⠉⠙⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⢻⣿⣶⣦⣤⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇ ⠘⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠿⠿⢶⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣦⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⡏ ⠀⠈⠻⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⢿⣶⣤⣄⣀⣾⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣷⣶⣤⣶⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣿⡿⠋⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⢿⣷⣶⣤⣽⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⣯⣤⣤⣤⣶⣿⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠙⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
/\_/\ (\ __ /) A__A \ ( ˶•ᵕ•˶)人( •ᗜ• )人(•ﻌ • ) / ଘ( ) ( )。 ( )੭
へ ╱|、 ╱|、 ૮ - ՛ ) (˚ˎ 。7 (` - 7 / ⁻ ៸| |、˜〵 |、 ⁻〵 乀 (ˍ, ل ل じしˍ,) じ しˍ,)ノ
not yall putting ur discords aint nobody wanna be your friend Im tryna look for cute kaomojis shut up 😭
I'm😈the😎ALPHA🐺I'm🫢the😆LEADER👑I'm🥰the😁one☝to😲TRUST😇together🫂we🐾do😬whatever😒it😃takes🥲, we're👥in⬇this🦴pack🧑‍🤝‍🧑for😨life😡!!! AWOOOO🐺🐺🐺WE'RE🐕WOLVES🐺WE😡OWN😡THE😡NIGHT🌑🌕🌃🐺🐾😈🔥
/\_/\ (\ __ /) A__A ( ˶•o•˶) ( •ω• ) ( •⤙• ) ଘ(ა🍱) (ა🍙૮)。 (🍜٩ )੭
__.     ୨୧ >  フ      |  _  _ l.      /` ミ_ xノ      /      |.     /  ヽ   ノ.     │  | | |.  / ̄|   | | |  | ( ̄ヽ_ヽ)__)  \二つ
"D-don't my muscles make me look cute?" ⠀ (\ __ /) (UwU) _ノ ヽ ノ\_ / `/ ⌒Y⌒ Y  \ (  (三ヽ人  /  | | ノ⌒\  ̄ ̄ヽ  ノ ヽ___>、__/ |( 王 ノ〈 /ミ`ー―彡\ / ╰ ╯ \

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

petition to make this an app!! btw the symbols are so you can still find kaomojis here <3 repost if you agree . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ (repost or like!) ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ ♡˚₊‧꒰ა ≽^•⩊•^≼ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚♡ ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊⁺⊹⋆₊˚⊹ᰔ ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) ... ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ ꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ ⌒)ᦱ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა ໒꒰ྀི っ ⸝⸝ ˂ ꒱ྀིა / ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১౨ৎ ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ ੭୧ ᮫ ࿀ ₊˚.༄ ୭̥°⋰˚ •ू♡ ⋰˚☆ ༊*·˚ ✩*ೃ.⋆ .⋆ ੭* ‧₊° ◞♡ ⋆.*ೃ✧ *๑♡՞ ༉‧₊˚✧ ✩˚。⋆ ·.༄࿔ ₊˚✩ ‧₊˚♡ ˚‧⁺ ・ ˖ ·
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⡏⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠘⣯⣼⣿⠟⣿⣿⠟⠁⣸⠁⠒⠠⢀⡀⠀⠠⠈⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣸⡧⠖⠒⠒⠁⠉⠁⠀⠀⢻⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣧⠀⣴⡇⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⡜⠀⠀⠹⡏⢁⣴⠛⠁⠀⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠜⠁⠀⡜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣧⢹⣒⣒⠶⠶⢦⡤⠝⠛⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢹⠞⢠⡁⠀⢷⠀⠀⢀⠎⠸⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠋⠁⠀⠀⢀⠏⠈⠉⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠤⠐⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠸⡇⠀⠈⠆⢀⠇⠀⠁⠀⣼⢠⡞⡁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠏⠀⠀⠀⠚⠛⠂⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠠⠄⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠈⠚⠂⠀⠀⣴⣿⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⠀⠀⠐⠒⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠤⠄⠒⠂⠨⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠢⢤⣀⡀⢳⢀⣀⣠⠤⠤⠤⠤⠬⡇⠒⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠘⣆⢀⣀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠤⠂⠈⠙⠁⡀⠄⢂⠐⡀⠆⠐⣻⠀⠀⢀⡀⠄⠐⠂⠉⢀⣀⣀⣠⣼⣦⣤⣂⠐⠐⡈⠐⢂⠁⠒⠠⢁⠂⠌⢉⠑⢦⠀⣠⠤⠴⠾⢲⠶⠶⠤⠤⢤⣀⣀⠒⠀⠤⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⠤⣌⣌⣠⠁⡐⠈⠄⢂⠐⡈⠄⣹⡖⠀⣀⣠⣦⣶⣿⣿⣭⣽⣶⣷⣽⣶⣬⣭⡳⣥⠀⠡⠀⠌⠠⢁⠂⠌⡀⠂⠌⢀⣾⣥⣶⣶⣿⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣽⣿⣶⣄⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠌⠐⡀⢂⠐⠠⢈⣷⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣽⣻⣿⣟⡷⣯⣟⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⠇⠠⢁⠈⡐⠠⠈⠄⠠⢁⠂⣼⣿⣯⣷⣻⣿⣽⢯⣟⣷⣿⣟⣾⣽⣻⣟⡿⣿⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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JUST A TOUCH iii (Autistic author) ¦ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ Once home, she helped him settle into his favorite chair, his eye scanning the room. Everything was in its place, exactly as he liked it. Karen noticed his breathing slow as the familiarity washed over him. She knew that routine and order could be vital to his comfort now to avoid triggering his anxiety. Then suddenly, Plankton began to rock back and forth. Karen recognized the motion. It was a new behavior, one she hadn't seen before. His body swayed with a rhythm that matched the ticking of the antique clock on the wall. "It's okay, sweetie," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "We're home now." The rocking grew more intense, his eye darting around the room, his antennae vibrating with each back-and-forth movement. Karen's mind raced, trying to remember the doctor's words. Sensory overload. He needed calm. Swiftly, she dimmed the lights, the neon signs from the Krabby Patty franchise across the street casting soothing shadows through the windows. The glow was just enough to illuminate the space without causing further distress, and she watched as Plankton's rocking subsided. She sat by him. She grasped and squeezed his shoulder. But this time, he flinched. "Plankton?" she asked, concern etching her voice. He pulled away from her, his antennae dropping to his side. The doctor had mentioned that some with autism might have heightened sensitivity to touch. Karen felt a knot in her stomach. "What if he doesn't like me touching him anymore?" she thought. "What if I can't comfort him when he's upset?" She decided to test the waters gently. Reaching out, she lightly trailed her finger over his hand. Plankton didn't react. Encouraged, she placed her hand on his shoulder again, this time more softly. He tensed, then relaxed. It was progress. "Let's start with simple touch," she said, her voice soothing. The doctor had mentioned that Plankton might be hypersensitive to certain types of touch, and Karen was determined to navigate this new aspect of their relationship with care. She placed a gentle hand on his knee, and Plankton flinched, his antennae retreating. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice as soothing as a lullaby. "It's just me, Karen." Her hand hovered over his, unsure of the best way to provide comfort. Karen took a deep breath, deciding to try again. This time, she approached with care, her touch feather-light, gliding over his hand like the softest of sea breezes. Plankton's antennae twitched, and his gaze remained on her hand, watching the movement as if it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Gradually, the tension in his body eased, and his hand lifted to meet hers. It was a tentative touch, his fingers brushing against hers, testing the waters. Karen felt a rush of relief. "See, it's okay," she murmured, keeping her voice low and even. Plankton's hand was cold, his grip firm but not painful. His eye locked onto hers, searching for reassurance. Slowly, she began to stroke his hand with her thumb, applying the slightest pressure. His breathing evened out, his antennae rising slightly. Encouraged, she tried a different type of touch—a gentle squeeze. This time, he didn't flinch. Instead, his hand returned the gesture, his own grip matching hers in strength. Karen felt a flicker of hope. "Maybe we can find a way through this," she thought. They sat in silence for a few moments, their hands entwined, as Karen tried to think of the next step. The doctor's words echoed in her mind: find what works for him. Gently, she began to rub his hand, her thumb moving in small, soothing circles. Plankton seemed to find comfort in the predictable pattern, his body unwinding a fraction more. Encouraged, Karen leaned in closer, her other hand reaching out to tap his shoulder. But as soon as her hand made contact with his skin, he jerked away, his eye flashing with fear and pain. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, her heart racing. "I didn't mean to scare you." Plankton stared at her, his expression unreadable. "It's just, sometimes touch feels..." His words trailed off, and Karen felt her own fear rising. "Painful?" she guessed, her voice trembling. Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping. "Some touches are okay, others..." He paused, his eye darting to his hand, which was still wrapped around hers. "It's confusing." Karen nodded, her heart aching for him. She knew she had to be more mindful of his sensory needs. Carefully, she pats his cheek with the back of her hand, the lightest of touches. Plankton's antennae flinched, but he didn't pull away until she put both of her hands on his shoulders. The sudden pressure was too much, like an electric shock. "Karen," he said, his voice tight with discomfort, "too much." Karen nodded, her hands retreating to her lap. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice small. "I didn't mean to..." Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye searching hers. "It's okay, Karen," he said, his voice measured. "But some touches are too much." Karen nodded, her heart heavy. She had so much to learn about this new Plankton, this person she knew so well yet barely knew at all. "I'll be more careful," she promised, squeezing his hand gently. Plankton's gaze remained steady on hers, his expression neutral. "Thank you, Karen," he said, giving her a side hug. This was a Plankton she had never seen before, one who spoke in a staccato rhythm, his movements precise and calculated. Yet, in the safety of their home, Karen saw glimpses of the man she knew. Her eyes fell upon a pamphlet the doctor had given her, titled 'Understanding Neurodivergence'. She picked it up and began to read. The first few pages were dedicated to explaining what it meant to be neurodivergent, how it wasn't an illness but a natural variation in the brain. Plankton's new condition, Acquired Autism, was one of the many spectrums that fell under this umbrella. Karen read through the descriptions of different behaviors, her eyes widening as she recognized some of the changes in Plankton— his need for order, his heightened sensitivity to stimuli, and his newfound obsessions. The pamphlet explained that these were common in individuals with his condition and offered optional suggestions for supporting them. Her gaze fell upon a section titled 'Seizure Protocols'. Karen's eyes widened as she read about the different types of seizures that could occur due to neurodivergence. Some were minor, like staring spells, while others could be more severe. Her heart raced as she thought of Plankton, his body stiffening and shaking. The pamphlet recommended to keep any sharp or harmful objects away from him. It was important not to restrain him, but instead, to gently guide him to the floor if necessary. The next section discussed how to communicate with someone on the spectrum. It suggested using clear, direct language, avoiding sarcasm and idioms. Karen realized that she would have to learn a new way of speaking with Plankton. Her screen skimmed over the pages, absorbing the information like a sponge. The pamphlet highlighted the importance of individuality and diversity, emphasizing that Plankton's brain was not broken, but simply wired differently. This was a concept she had heard of before, but it had never hit so close to home. The causes of neurodisability varied widely, from genetics to congenital to trauma. One paragraph caught her attention—brain injuries could lead to conditions like Acquired Autism. The words swirled in her mind, a stark reminder of the wrench that had changed everything. As Karen read on, she learned about the complex interplay of biological factors and life experiences that can shape a person's neurodivergence. It was both overwhelming and fascinating, a glimpse into a world she had never truly understood.
A LIFE OF DIVERSITY iii (Autistic author) "It's okay, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his voice soothing. "We're just going for a walk. Nothing to worry about." The three of them walked in silence for a while, the only sounds the lapping of the waves and the occasional squawk of a seagull. Karen could feel the tension, and she wondered what was going on inside his head. As they neared the jellyfish fields Sponge Bob perked up. "Hey, Plankton, you remember jellyfishing right?" He asked, his tone hopeful. Plankton's antennae stopped the nervous twitching for a moment. "Jellyfishing," he murmured, the memory sparking a glimmer of interest. "Jellyfish sting." Sponge Bob's smile grew wider. "Yeah, but it's fun, right?" He said trying to keep the conversation light. Karen could see the effort in his eyes and felt a pang of guilt for ever thinking poorly of him. "Jellyfish... fun," Plankton repeated, his voice still flat. Sponge Bob looked at him, his smile fading slightly. "Yeah, jellyfishing's the best!" he said trying to keep the energy up. "Remember all the good times we had?" Plankton nodded, his gaze distant. "Good times," he echoed. Sponge Bob's smile faltered, and he shot a questioning glance at Karen. "Is everything ok with Plankton?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. Karen took and squeezed Plankton's hand. "Hold on, Sponge Bob," she said gently. "Plankton, can you find us a rock? A pretty sparkly rock." Plankton's gaze snapped to hers, and she could see the gears turning in his head. He nodded, his antennae tilting slightly. "Find rock," he said, before going in the familiar jellyfish fields. Sponge Bob watched him go, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Is Plankton ok Karen?" he asked. "He's just... different now," Karen said, voice tight with emotion. "He had an accident, and the doctor says he has acquired autism." Sponge Bob's eyes went wide. "Hey I think I have that, too! But what does that mean for Plankton?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. "It means he's going to need some help," Karen said, her voice calm and measured. "He'll still be the same Plankton we know, but his brain works differently now." Sponge Bob's eyes searched hers, trying to understand. "Different like how?" Karen took a deep breath. "Well, he might repeat what we say," she began, watching Plankton as he picked up rocks and examined them. "It's called echolalia. It's a way for him to process language now." Sponge Bob's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh, like a parrot!" he exclaimed, nodding. Karen chuckled, despite the heaviness of the situation. "Sort of," she said, "but it's more than just repeating words. It's how he processes information now." Sponge Bob watched Plankton, who had found a particularly shiny rock and was now examining it with intense focus. "What else, Karen?" he asked. Karen took a deep breath, trying to explain as best she could. "Sometimes, Plankton might need more time to understand what people are saying to him." Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton. "How might he act?" Karen sighed, looking at the ocean. "Well, sometimes he might get overwhelmed by sounds, lights, or even textures," she said. "It's like his senses are on overload. Although he'll have it for the rest of his life, he can potentially improve his skills. It happened yesterday, I don't think you were working but Krabs hit Plankton's head.." Sponge Bob's expression grew serious, and he nodded solemnly. "I'm really sorry to hear that, Karen," he said, his eyes filled with genuine empathy. "Plankton's always been pretty tough, but I won't let Mr. Krabs know." Plankton returned with the sparkly rock, his gaze still a bit unfocused. "Pretty rock," he said, holding it out to Karen. Karen took the rock. "Thank you, Plankton," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "Good find," Sponge Bob added, giving him an encouraging thumbs-up. The walk continued, yet a distant wail of a boat's horn created a symphony that seemed to overwhelm him. He stopped, his antennae flattening against his head, his eye wide with distress. "Too loud," he murmured, his voice strained. Karen noticed Plankton's agitation. They guided him to a nearby bench, and he sat, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, rocking back and forth. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothed, her voice calm. "Just breathe, darling." Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his antennae quivering. "What's wrong, Plankton?" SpongeBob asked, voice filled with concern. Plankton didn't respond, his eye squeezed shut as he hummed a tune to himself. Karen and Sponge Bob sat beside him, giving him space and waiting for the overwhelming sound to pass. After a few moments, the boat's horn ceased and Plankton's breathing began to even out. He looks up, gaze still slightly unfocused. "Plankton ok now?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice gentle. Karen nodded. "I think so," she said, watching Plankton's antennae slowly untangle from their protective pose. "Sounds can be really intense for him now." Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. "We'll keep it down then," he said, his voice a whisper. Karen smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Sponge Bob," she said. "It means a lot." They sat for a few more moments, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore acting as a soothing lullaby for Plankton. Finally, he spoke up, his voice still flat. "Home now," he said, his eye still on the horizon. Karen nodded. "Alright, let's go home," she said, her voice gentle. "SpongeBob?" Plankton asks, wanting him to come with. Sponge Bob looks to Karen, who nods with a grateful smile. "We'd love for you to come, Sponge Bob," she says. "We can all help each other understand." Plankton's gaze immediately falls on a biology book that's been lying on the coffee table, half open to a page about jellyfish. His antennae start twitching rapidly, and he picks it up with a new found interest. "Look, Karen," he says, his voice filled with excitement as he points to a picture of a jellyfish. "Jellyfish." Karen nods. "Yes, Plankton," she says gently. "That's a jellyfish." Plankton opens the book wider, eye scanning the pages with a fervor that was almost palpable. His antennae quivered with excitement as he absorbed every piece of information he could find about jellyfish. It was as if he had found a new obsession, a puzzle to solve that could potentially drown out the cacophony of the world around him. "Jellyfish," he murmurs to himself, his eye scanning the text. "Jellyfish sting. Jellyfish pretty." Sponge Bob's curiosity peaks, and he leans over to look at the page Plankton is fixated on. "Jellyfish, huh?" He says, his voice soft so as not to disturb Plankton's focus. Karen nods. "It's like he's trying to make sense of everything again," she explains. "It's one of his special interests now." Sponge Bob nods. Karen watches as Plankton traces the outline of a jellyfish with his hand. "It's called hyper fixation," she explains. "It's when extremely focused on something to the point where it's almost all he can think about." Sponge Bob nods thoughtfully. "Well, Plankton I see you like the book of jellyfish?" Plankton nods, his antennae still quivering with excitement. "Jellyfish book," he murmurs, his eye never leaving the page. Sponge Bob nods, a smile spreading across his face. "I can see you really love jellyfish, Plankton," he says, trying to keep the conversation flowing.
A JOURNEY TO AUTISM iii (Autistic author) Inside, she sets him down on their favorite couch, the one with the frayed edges and the squeaky spring that always reminded them of their first date. The room is cluttered with half-finished inventions and plans for Krabby Patty heists. She sits beside him. The silence stretches on, heavier than a net full of anchovies. Plankton's antennas twitch, his eye darting around the room, taking in the chaos. Karen's mind is racing, wondering if he recognizes any of it, if it brings back any memories of their life together. "Home," he murmurs, his voice filled with uncertainty. The room feels smaller, more cramped than she remembered, as if the walls are closing in on them. "Do you like it here?" she asks, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks around, his antennas moving slightly as he processes his surroundings. "Home," he says again, his voice a mix of curiosity and confusion. The room is a jumble of wires, gadgets, and half-eaten chum sticks. Karen's with tears as she realizes how much she's taken for granted their life together. She had always loved Plankton's quirks and his boundless energy, but now his mind seemed to be stuck in a loop, unable to move beyond the basic functions of acknowledgment. "Home," Plankton says again, his antennas drooping. "Home with Karen." The repetition of the words stirs something within Karen. Echolalia, the doctor had called it, a common trait in those with autism. It was Plankton's way of trying to understand the world around him, to find comfort in familiar words and phrases. "Yes," she whispers, her throat tight with emotion. "This is our home." The room seems to shrink around them as Plankton's echolalic chant of "home with Karen" repeats in a soothing loop. Each time he says it, Karen feels a pang of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he was finding comfort in the simplicity of their life together. "Home with Karen," he says again, his antennas slightly more animated. Karen nods, brimming with tears. "Yes, Plankton, we're home." But she sees a flicker of distress in his eye. "Sponge Bob," he whispers, his antennas quivering with urgency. "Where's Sponge Bob?" Karen's heart squeezes at the mention of him. "Sponge Bob's not here right now," she says, choosing her words carefully. "But he'll come to visit." Plankton's antennas shoot up, his eye wide. "Sponge Bob," he repeats, his voice gaining strength. "Friend. Need Sponge Bob." The desperation in his tone is heart-wrenching, and Karen knows she needs to act fast to soothe his anxiety. "Ok, ok," she says, her voice calm. "Let's call Sponge Bob." Karen picks up the phone, her hands shaking slightly as she dials the familiar number. The phone rings once, twice, before it's answered by a cheerful voice. "Karen?" Sponge Bob's voice sounds surprised but concerned. "Is everything ok?" Karen takes a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's Plankton," she says. "He's asking for you to come over." There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Plankton? But we're... I mean?" Sponge Bob's voice is filled with confusion. Karen's with desperation as she watches Plankton rock back and forth on the couch, his chant growing louder. "Sponge Bob. Need Sponge Bob." "Please, Sponge Bob," she pleads, her voice cracking. Sponge Bob's voice on the other end of the line softens. "Of course, Karen. I'll be right over." The line goes dead, and Karen hangs up the phone, feeling a tiny spark of hope. Plankton's cries for Sponge Bob have become more insistent, his rocking more pronounced. She gently places a hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. "Sponge Bob's coming, Plankton," she says, her voice steady. "He'll be here soon." Plankton's rocking slows, his antennas drooping slightly. "Sponge Bob," he whispers, his eye searching hers. "Safe." The word hangs in the air, and Karen realizes that despite his confusion, he feels comfort in Sponge Bob's presence. A few moments later, they hear the telltale sound of bubbles popping against the glass, and a knock on the door. With a tremble, Karen stands and opens it to reveal Sponge Bob, looking slightly nervous but determined. "Hi, Plankton!" he exclaims. Plankton's antennas shoot up at the sound of his name, and he whips his head around to face the door. "Sponge Bob!" he shouts, his eye lighting up with an unmistakable joy. Sponge Bob steps into the room. "Sponge Bob!" he exclaims, his voice a mix of excitement and relief. He lunges forward, wrapping his tiny arms around the larger sponge in an embrace. Sponge Bob looks surprised but quickly returns the hug, his spongy form enveloping Plankton completely. "Plankton, what's going on?" he asks, his eyes wide with concern. He's never seen Plankton like this. Plankton pulls back, his expression a jumble of emotions. "Sponge Bob," he says again, his voice filled with affection. He grabs Sponge Bob's hand and tugs him closer. "Home with Karen. Need you." Sponge Bob looks to Karen, his eyes filled with uncertainty, but she nods encouragingly. "It's ok," she says. "He's just happy you're here." The sight of Plankton's excited state brings a smile to Sponge Bob's face, despite his confusion. He sits down next to him on the couch, his own excitement growing. "What do you want to do?" Sponge Bob asks, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. Plankton's antennas twitch as he thinks, his eye darting around the room. "Let's play a game," he suddenly exclaims, his voice filled with a child-like excitement that hadn't been there before. "What kind of game, Plankton?" Karen asks, eager to encourage his newfound energy. "Chess!" he exclaims, pointing to a dusty board in the corner of the room. Sponge Bob's eyes widen with surprise, but he doesn't hesitate. He leaps up from the couch and wipes the dust from the board with his spongy hand, setting up the pieces with surprising efficiency. Karen watches from the sidelines, her heart swelling with love and hope as Plankton's enthusiasm grows. He moves the pieces with a frenetic energy, his eye alight with a joy she hadn't seen since before the accident. Sponge Bob, ever the optimist, matches his excitement, even though he's clearly outmatched by Plankton's strategic mind. "Checkmate!" Plankton cries out, his antennas waving with each word. Sponge Bob's expression is a mix of surprise and admiration. "Wow, Plankton, you're really good at this!" The room echoes with Plankton's laughter, a sound that's both familiar and foreign to Karen's ears. The old Plankton would have gloated. "Checkmate," he says again, his antennas bobbing in excitement. "Checkmate, checkmate." Sponge Bob laughs, a wonderful, genuine laugh that fills the room. "You win, Plankton," he says, his hands clapping together. Plankton's antennas stop twitching for a moment, and he looks at Sponge Bob, his eye studying the sponge's reaction. "Win," he repeats, a hint of understanding in his voice. "Win at chess." He claps like SpongeBob. Sponge Bob's eyes light up, seeing the connection. "Yes, Plankton, you won the chess game," he says, his voice soothing. "You're really good at it." Plankton's antennas start to twitch again, his eye darting between the board and Sponge Bob. "Win," he murmurs, his voice filled with a newfound sense of pride. "Win with Sponge Bob." The phrase becomes a chant, his brain finding solace in the repetition. "Win with Sponge Bob, win with Sponge Bob." Sponge Bob smiles warmly, picking up the rhythm of Plankton's words. "Yes, Plankton," he says, his voice soothing. "You won the game. You're a great chess player." Plankton's antennas quiver, his eye locking onto Sponge Bob's. "Great chess player," he echoes, his voice a mix of pride and amazement. "Win with Sponge Bob." Karen watches from the sidelines with hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the breakthrough they needed. Sponge Bob's presence was calming him, bringing out a side of Plankton she hadn't seen since the accident.
NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON iii (Autistic author) "Now let's go to the living room and I'll go pick up a smoothie for you. Can you stay here by yourself?" He nodded, his expression slightly less tense. "I'll be back soon," she assured him, squeezing his shoulder before leaving the Chum Bucket. Just moments later, Karen's friend Hanna came for a surprise visit. She knew Karen had a husband named Plankton, but she never met him. Plankton was now back on the living room couch. "Oh, you must be Plankton!" Hanna exclaimed. Plankton's eye flitted to her, his expression unreadable. Hanna walked over to the couch, her smile wide and genuine. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she said, embracing him in a hug. Plankton stiffened, his eye wide with surprise. His body tensed, his mind racing to process this new sensory input. "You ok?" Hanna asked, pulling back slightly. She had noticed his reaction but didn't know the reason behind it. Plankton nodded, his eye darting around the room again. He wasn't used to such spontaneous affection, and the unexpected sensation of Hanna's arms around him had thrown him off balance. "Yes, I am Plankton," he murmured, his voice monotone. He wasn't quite sure how to respond. Hanna's smile didn't waver, unaware of the turmoil within his mind. "How are you feeling today?" Plankton's gaze flicked to the ceiling, his mind racing to find the right words. "Today, feeling," he echoed, his voice still a whisper. The repetition was a comfort, a way to process the flood of sensory information that assaulted him continuously. Hanna looked at him with a puzzled expression. "You know, your wife Karen tells me you're an inventor," she said, her tone innocently curious. Plankton's eye locked onto hers, his mind racing to understand the context of her words. "Inventor," he repeated, his voice flat. It was a word he knew, but it felt foreign now, as if it belonged to someone else. "Yes, inventor," Hanna said, nodding enthusiastically. "I've heard so much about your gadgets and contraptions. What are you working on these days?" Plankton's eye flitted around the room again, his mind struggling to grasp the concept of 'working'. "Gadgets, contraptions," he murmured, his voice a broken record. Hanna's expression was one of confusion, her smile beginning to fade. "Well, what do you do all day?" she prodded gently, trying to coax him out of his silence. Plankton's reply was immediate and robotic, "Do, all day, all day." Hanna's brow furrowed, uncertain how to interpret his repetitive response. She had known Karen for years, but Plankton's behavior was unlike anything she had ever heard of her friend's husband. "Do you like the beach?" she asked, hoping to engage him in conversation. Plankton's eye blinked slowly, his mind processing the question. "Beach," he echoed, his voice hollow. Hanna nodded, encouraged by his response. "Yes, the beach! It's such a beautiful place. Do you ever go there?" Plankton's gaze shifted to the window, the memory of sand and surf a distant whisper. "Go, beach, beautiful place," he said, his words a stuttered echo of hers. Hanna's smile dimmed slightly. This wasn't the witty banter she was expecting from Karen's husband. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" she asked, uncertain. Plankton's eye moved to hers, his gaze intense. "Talk," he repeated, his voice a whisper. Hanna felt a twinge of discomfort. Something was off about his responses, but she couldn't quite put her tentacle on what it was. "Well, what do you like to do for fun?" she tried again, her tone tentative. Plankton's eye wandered back to his own hand, fidgeting with his fingers. "Do, fun," he murmured, the words a reflexive response to the question. Hanna's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you do for fun?" she clarified, wondering if he had simply misunderstood. Plankton's gaze remained on his fidgeting hand, his mind racing to connect the concept of 'fun' with his new reality. "Do, fun," he repeated, his voice devoid of the mirth he once expressed so freely. Hanna's smile was now forced, her confusion growing with each interaction. "Plankton, can you tell me what you enjoy doing?" she asked, hoping for a clearer response. He looked up at her, his gaze slightly less focused than before. "Enjoy doing," he repeated, his voice a faint echo. Hanna's twitched with concern. "You know, like hobbies or interests," she prompted gently, trying to keep her voice light. Plankton's eye moved back to his fidgeting hand, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and sensory overload. "Hobbies, interests," he murmured, his voice a hollow echo. Hanna's concern was now clear on her screen. "You know, like things you like to do in your free time," she tried again, her voice a little less bright. Plankton's eye latched onto hers. "Free time," he repeated, his voice a monotone. "Like to do." Hanna's eyes widened slightly, her confusion growing with each word he said. "Yes, exactly," she nodded, her voice a little more cautious now. "What do you like to do in your free time? Well, other than repetition.." She awkwardly laughs as she elbows him multiple times, not knowing how her touch is irritating Plankton. Plankton's getting more frustrated/angry now, as Hanna goes to pat his shoulder. He can't take much more now. Hanna's touch was like a brand, searing his already overwhelmed senses. He flinched away, his body rigid with tension. "Plankton, are you ok?" Hanna asked, her voice filled with concern. She noticed his discomfort but couldn't pinpoint the cause. He nodded slightly, his expression unreadable. "Ok, ok," he mumbled, his voice still a monotone. Hanna looked at him with concern, her smile slipping. "Karen said you used to be quite the conversationalist. What happened?" She says, grabbing his elbow; but that's the last straw for Plankton. Plankton's eye snapped up to hers, his voice sharp. "What happened? You happened!" He snapped, his words sharp as a knife. The sudden aggression in his tone was like a slap in the face, catching Hanna off guard. She took a step back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." she began, but Plankton was on a roll now. "You don't know what happened!" his voice grew louder, his words quickening with each syllable. "You don't know anything!" Hanna's eyes went wide with shock. This was not the Plankton Karen had described. Her arms flailed in the air as she tried to placate his sudden anger. "I'm sorry, Plankton. I just didn't know..."
THE LIFE OF UNITY iii (Autistic author) Kevin's laughter reaches a crescendo as he takes a step closer to Plankton. "What don't I know?" he asks, his voice sharper than ever. "That PLANKTON JUST. DON'T. WUV. THEM. JELLYFISH. YOU ARE COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY..." But his words are cut off by the sight of Plankton, his antennae drooping, his eye brimming with tears. The tiny creature's body trembles as Kevin's to loud words settle upon him, and suddenly, all the pent-up frustration and pain come rushing out in a torrent as a single tear forms and slides down his face. Plankton's antennae quiver uncontrollably, and he squeaks out a sob, his tiny body convulsing with the weight of Kevin's cruel words. SpongeBob is shocked. Kevin's words hang in the water, his laughter fading into an awkward silence as he watches Plankton's reaction. The sea cucumber's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of Plankton's tears, his own expression morphing from smug to surprise, then to something akin to fear. "Plankton?" Plankton's antennae quiver as he sniffs, trying to compose himself, his monotone voice thick with emotion. "Plankton... brainless," he murmurs, his one eye filled with unshed tears. "Plankton," he adds, his voice cracking, "Plankton... not like jellyfish." Sponge Bob's heart squeezes tight in his chest. "Hey, Plankton," he says softly, "it's ok. Kevin didn't mean it." But Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone voice echoing Kevin's hurtful words. "Kevin... right," he murmurs, his eye glistening with tears. "Plankton... brainless. Like jellyfish." Kevin's expression morphs from smugness to shock, his eyes wide as he realizes the impact of his words. "It's just... you know, a joke." But Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone voice trembling. "Joke?" he murmurs. "Plankton... a joke. Plankton... brainless." Kevin's grin falters, his eyes widening in horror as he sees the pain etched on Plankton's tiny face. "No," he stammers, his voice cracking. "It was just a... I didn't mean it like that." But Plankton's antennae continue to quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's cruel words. "Plankton... no purpose in life," he murmurs, his one eye filled with a sadness so profound it seems to suck the color out of the surrounding waters. Sponge Bob's eyes widen in shock. "Plankton," he says gently, "you have friends. You have a purpose." But Plankton's antennae droop even lower, his monotone voice a sad echo of his own self-doubt. "Plankton mindless.." Kevin's smugness evaporates, replaced with a flicker of concern as he watches the usually unflappable Plankton crumple under the weight of his words. "Look, Plankton," he says, reaching out to touch him. But Plankton flinches, his antennae quivering with pain. "Plankton," Kevin says, his voice a mix of surprise and regret, "I didn't mean it like that. I was just messing around." But Plankton's antennae continue to quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's insults. "Mindless," he murmurs, his one eye fixed. "Brainless." Sponge Bob's eyes wide with shock and sadness. "Plankton," he whispers, his voice filled with a tenderness Plankton rarely hears from anyone. "You're not brainless." But Plankton's antennae quiver with doubt, his monotone voice echoing Kevin's words. "Plankton... mindless," he murmurs, his one eye unable to meet Sponge Bob's gaze. "Like jellyfish." SpongeBob knew that Plankton's obsession with jellyfish is more than just a hobby; it's a deep connection, a part of who he is after the traumatic brain injury. And now, Kevin's careless words have struck a nerve, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice gentle, "you're not like that. You're smart. You're... you're you." But Plankton's antennae quiver with insecurity, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's words. "Mindless," he murmurs, his one eye still avoiding contact. "Plankton... like jellyfish." SpongeBob understood that the brain trauma has affected him, making him more vulnerable to words that question his intelligence and identity due to his autism. "Plankton," he says, his voice filled with concern, "you know that's not true. You're not like jellyfish in that way." But Plankton's antennae quiver with doubt, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's mockery. "Mindless," he murmurs. "Mindless, brainless." Sponge Bob's heart aches for his friend, reaching out to offer comfort. "Plankton, you're not like that," he says, his voice gentle and assuring. "You're brilliant. You know more about jellyfish than anyone." But Plankton's antennae quiver with insecurity, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's laughter. "Mindless," he murmurs, eye downcast. "Plankton... brainless." Sponge Bob tries to find the right words to say. "Plankton," he says gently, "you're not like that. You're so much more than what Kevin said." But Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of the cruel words. "Mindless," he murmurs, his one eye avoiding Sponge Bob's gaze. "Plankton... no purpose." Kevin's eyes dart from Plankton to Sponge Bob, his grin faltering. "What's going on?" he asks, his voice tight with confusion. "You guys are acting weird." Sponge Bob's embrace tighten around Plankton's tiny body, his voice firm but kind. "Kevin," he says, his gaze fixed on Plankton, "you don't know what happened to Plankton." Kevin's laughter fades into a puzzled look. "What do you mean?" Kevin's smirk fades, his eyes narrowing with confusion. "What are you guys talking about?" he asks, his voice tight. Sponge Bob hesitates, glancing at Plankton, who nods almost imperceptibly. "Kevin," he says, his voice serious, "Plankton had a bad accident. He hit his head, and now he's... different." Kevin's tentacles freeze in mid-air, his smugness evaporating. "What do you mean, 'different'?" he asks, his voice tentative. Sponge Bob sighs. "Plankton's had a brain injury," he says, his eyes never leaving Plankton's quivering antennae. "He's... autistic now." Kevin's eyes widen, his tentacles dropping to his sides. "What? No way," he stammers, his smugness gone. "You're... you're joking, right?" But Sponge Bob's expression is serious, gently stroking Plankton's antennae. "It's true, Kevin," he says, his voice gentle. "Plankton's had a tough time, and he's different now." "Plankton, joke." Kevin's confusion turns to shock as he looks from Sponge Bob to Plankton, his tentacles dropping to his sides. "But... but why didn't you say anything?" he asks, his voice trembling. Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "We didn't think it was anyone's business," he says tightening around Plankton's shaking antennae. "But now you know Kevin. And we need you to be cool about it."
THE TOOTH OF A CHILD iii He took another sip of water, his cheeks puffing out as he swished it around his mouth. "Mmph, tath's betta," he said, handing the cup back to the nurse. Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. "Okay, let's get you up," she said, her voice still filled with laughter. Plankton nodded, his antennae bobbing. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements slow and clumsy. Karen slipped her arm under his and helped him stand. His balance was wobbly, like a newborn foal taking its first steps. She had to stifle her giggles as he tried to navigate the unseen world with his numbed mouth. "Mmph... Kahen," he began, his voice a series of muffled sounds. "How long wi’ this lafs?" Karen chuckled at his question. "It'll wear off in a few hours. But until then, you're going to have to be careful." Plankton's antennae wiggled with determination. "Mmph, I'm a bih boy," he slurred. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his bravado. "Yes, you are," she said, her voice warm and supportive. "Let's get you to the car." With Plankton leaning heavily on her, they shuffled down the hallway." "Mmph... Kahen," Plankton slurred, his words still thick with the remnants of the anesthesia. "You know, I've alwaths wanthed to know... how youw wove me wath." Karen raised an eyebrow, her smile growing. "What do you mean, Plankton?" she asked, her curiosity piqued by his sudden sentimental turn. "Mmph, wike, how... how youw... feww in wove?" he managed, his tongue thick and clumsy. Karen's smile grew tender at his earnest question. "Well, it's complicated," she began, her voice soft. "But I guess it started when we met. Now, let's get in the car." Plankton nodded, his antennae waving with understanding. "Mmph, okay." Karen helped him shuffle his way out of the hospital, his feet dragging slightly. He was still groggy from the anesthesia, but his curiosity was in overdrive. "Mmph, Kahen," Plankton slurred, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wha's wove wike?" Karen glanced down at him, his expression earnest. "It's like when two people really, really like each other," she replied, her voice gentle. "Wike... I wove youw tho mush." He says. Karen couldn't help but laugh again. "Plankton, you're not making any sense," she said, her voice filled with affectionate exasperation. His antennae drooped slightly, his eye looking disappointed. "Mmph... I'm tawwy," he mumbled, his mouth still a mess of numbness. "It's just... I wove youw Kahen." Karen's heart skipped a beat, his words a sweet jumble of slurs. "I know, Plankton," she said, her voice thick with emotion. They reached the car, and Karen gently guided him into the passenger seat. "Mmph, Kahen, wath's that?" Plankton asked pointing to the dashboard. Karen chuckled. "It's the car's dashboard, Plankton. You're just seeing things differently because of the medicine." She buckled his seatbelt, his movements exaggerated. "Mmph, oh," he murmured, his interest shifting to the windshield wipers. "Mow, theath things, they'we like... like... arms," he said, his speech still a slurry mess. Karen laughed, shaking her head. "They're wipers, Plankton. For the rain," she corrected, starting the engine. He nodded, his antennae still waving with fascination. "Mmph, wath's theath wound?" he asked, pointing at the steering wheel. Karen couldn't help but laugh. "That's the steering wheel, buddy. It's what I use to drive the car," she said, her voice still filled with humor. Plankton stared at it for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Mmph, and theath wound?" he asked, his finger tracing the path of the windshield wipers. Karen couldn't help but laugh. "It's to keep the windshield clear, so we can see while driving." Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with curiosity. "Mmph, so many tings in this big wowld." Karen couldn't help but laugh, his innocent wonder bringing a smile to her face. "Yes, Plankton, there are so many things to discover," she said, backing out of the parking spot. "Mmph, and wath's wath?" Plankton asked, pointing out the window at a passing scallop. "That's a scallop, Plankton. It flies in the sky," she explained, her voice still filled with amusement. He nodded, his antennae bobbing as he took it all in. "Wow, so-o beautiful," he slurred, his eye gazing out the window like a child seeing the world for the first time. Karen couldn't help but be captivated by his innocent wonder. "You know, Plankton, sometimes you say the sweetest things without even realizing it." His antennae perked up. "Mmph, do I?" he asked, his speech still a garbled mess. Karen nodded, her smile tender. "You do." "Mmph, gweat," he says with a slow nod of his head. Karen steers the car onto the road, the sun casting a warm glow over Plankton's sleepy face. His antennae wilt slightly as his eye struggles to stay open. "Mmph, Kahen, theath sun is so bright," he complains, his voice still slurred from the anesthesia. Karen chuckles, reaching over to adjust the visor. "Better?" He nods, his antennae drooping. "Mmph, yeth. Thanf you." He said, as drool began to form again in the corner of his mouth. Karen reached over with a tissue, carefully dabbing it away. Plankton flinched slightly, his mouth still too numb to feel the touch. "Mmph, I wathn't expehcting this," he mumbles, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery. The world outside the car was a blur of colors and shapes, his mind still trying to make sense of it all. Karen navigated the road, her eyes flipping between the road and Plankton's amusing expressions. "Mmph, Kahen, wath's thaf?" he asks, his eye half-closed. Karen looks over at the traffic light, its red light a stark contrast to the bright sun. "It's a stoplight, Plankton. It tells me when to stop and go." Plankton nods, his antennae barely moving. "Mmph, wike a twail." His eye closes, and Karen can feel his weight shift slightly toward her as sleep begins to claim him again. "Mmph, Kahen?" Plankton's voice interrupts the quiet hum of the engine, his words a soft whisper. "Ith wike I'm swimmin' in molasses," he says, his mouth still not cooperating. Karen laughs, keeping one eye on the road and the other on his peaceful face. "You're just tired from the surgery," she assures him. "You'll be fine once you get some rest." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye opening slightly. "But, Kahen, I don't wan' to sleep," he slurred. "I wan' to expehrience this wowld with you." His words were earnest, his gaze firm despite his grogginess. She watched him fight the tide of sleep, his eyelid drooping again. "Mmph, wath's theath wowndow?" he asked, pointing at the car's side mirror. Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his confusion. "It's a mirror, sweetheart," she said, her voice soothing. "So we can see what's behind us." Plankton nodded, his antennae barely moving. "Mmph, wike a... wike a... wookie," he mumbled, his speech still a garbled mess. Karen laughed, shaking her head. "It's okay, Plankton. You're just tired." His eyes grew heavier, his lid drooping. "Mmph, I am," he admitted, his voice a faint whisper. The car's gentle rocking and the hum of the engine began to lull him into a doze. Karen watched him, his snores growing louder as he succumbed to sleep. His hand still held hers, the connection warm and comforting. She felt his grip loosen slightly, his body relaxing into the seat. His breathing grew deep and even, his antennae quietly bobbing with each exhalation. Karen couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for this vulnerable side of Plankton she'd never seen before. The car ride home was quiet, punctuated only by Plankton's gentle snores and the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers. Karen smiled to herself, her grip on his hand never loosening.
ᡣ𐭩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 💬 Hii!!1! If you're seeing this, I wish you a good day/night, good grades, great friends and a happy life! I love you!! take care. BYEE >ᴗ< 🍙⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

⠀ (\ __ /) (UwU) _ノ ヽ ノ\_ / `/ ⌒Y⌒ Y  \ (  (三ヽ人  /   | | ノ⌒\  ̄ ̄ヽ  ノ ヽ___>、__/ |( 王 ノ〈 /ミ`ー―彡\
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<3
its literally so funny to see the beef here tbh 😭😭 :3
stop it with the 18+ stuff!! there are MINORS on this site, looking for cute emoji-combos!!ヽ(`д´;)/
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⡆⣐⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⠅⢗⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⠕⠕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕ ⢐⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⣕⢕⢕⠕⠁⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⠅⡄⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕ ⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⠅⢗⢕⠕⣠⠄⣗⢕⢕⠕⢕⢕⢕⠕⢠⣿⠐⢕⢕⢕⠑⢕⢕⠵⢕ ⢕⢕⢕⢕⠁⢜⠕⢁⣴⣿⡇⢓⢕⢵⢐⢕⢕⠕⢁⣾⢿⣧⠑⢕⢕⠄⢑⢕⠅⢕ ⢕⢕⠵⢁⠔⢁⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⡐⣕⢽⠐⢕⠕⣡⣾⣶⣶⣶⣤⡁⢓⢕⠄⢑⢅⢑ ⠍⣧⠄⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣔⢕⢄⢡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡑⢕⢤⠱⢐ ⢠⢕⠅⣾⣿⠋⢿⣿⣿⣿⠉⣿⣿⣷⣦⣶⣽⣿⣿⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢹⣷⣷⡅⢐ ⣔⢕⢥⢻⣿⡀⠈⠛⠛⠁⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠈⠛⠛⠁⠄⣼⣿⣿⡇⢔ ⢕⢕⢽⢸⢟⢟⢖⢖⢤⣶⡟⢻⣿⡿⠻⣿⣿⡟⢀⣿⣦⢤⢤⢔⢞⢿⢿⣿⠁⢕ ⢕⢕⠅⣐⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⣿⣿⡄⠛⢀⣦⠈⠛⢁⣼⣿⢗⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⢕⡏⣘⢕ ⢕⢕⠅⢓⣕⣕⣕⣕⣵⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣕⢕⢕⢕⢕⡵⢀⢕⢕ ⢑⢕⠃⡈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢃⢕⢕⢕ ⣆⢕⠄⢱⣄⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢁⢕⢕⠕⢁ ⣿⣦⡀⣿⣿⣷⣶⣬⣍⣛⣛⣛⡛⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⢛⣛⣉⣭⣤⣂⢜⠕⢑⣡⣴⣿
 ♥︎ | kitty mouth | sad mouth | o mouth | v mouth ——————————————————————————————————————————— o o  |   ͈ര ̫ര ͈   |    ͈ര ̭ര ͈   |   ͈ര ̥ര ͈  |  ͈ര ̬ര ͈    ——————————————————————————————————————————— ó ò  |   ͈ര́ ̫ര̀ ͈   |    ͈ര́ ̭ര̀ ͈   |   ͈ര́ ̥ര̀ ͈  |  ͈ര́ ̬ര̀ ͈   ——————————————————————————————————————————— ò ó  |   ͈ര̀ ̫ര́ ͈   |    ͈ര̀ ̭ര́ ͈    |   ͈ര̀ ̥ര́ ͈  |  ͈ര̀ ̬ര́ ͈ ——————————————————————————————————————————— — —  |   ͈— ̫— ͈   |    ͈— ̭— ͈  |   ͈— ̥— ͈  |  ͈— ̬— ͈ ——————————————————————————————————————————— —́ —̀ |   ͈—́ ̫—̀ ͈   |    ͈—́ ̭—̀ ͈  |  ͈—́ ̥—̀ ͈ | ͈—́ ̬—̀ ͈    ——————————————————————————————————————————— —̢̢́ —̢̢̀ |   ͈—̢̢́ ̫—̢̢̀ ͈   |  ͈—̢̢́ ̭—̢̢̀ ͈  |   ͈—̢̢́ ̥—̢̢̀ ͈  | ͈—̢̢́ ̬—̢̢̀ ͈ ——————————————————————————————————————————— ᴗ ᴗ  |   ͈ᴗ ̫ᴗ ͈    |    ͈ᴗ ̭ᴗ ͈   |   ͈ᴗ ̥ᴗ ͈  |  ͈ᴗ ̬ᴗ ͈ ——————————————————————————————————————————— ᴖ ᴖ  |   ͈ᴖ ̫ᴖ ͈   |    ͈ᴖ ̭ᴖ ͈  |   ͈ᴖ ̥ᴖ ͈  |  ͈ᴖ ̬ᴖ ͈ ——————————————————————————————————————————— ᴗ̀ ᴗ́  |   ͈ᴗ̀ ̫ᴗ́ ͈   |    ͈ᴗ̀ ̭ᴗ́ ͈   |   ͈ᴗ̀ ̥ᴗ́ ͈  |  ͈ᴗ̀ ̬ᴗ́ ͈ ——————————————————————————————————————————— ᴖ̀ ᴖ́  |   ͈ᴖ̀ ̫ᴖ́ ͈   |     ͈ᴖ̀ ̭ᴖ́ ͈  |   ͈ᴖ̀ ̥ᴖ́ ͈  |  ͈ᴖ̀ ̬ᴖ́ ͈ some accessories u can give it!! (note “o o” is where u put the face!!) ٩(o o )و ٩(o o )۶ ฅ(o o )ฅ (o o )ง (o o )ɞ ʚ( o o) ૮(o o )ა ৻ꪆ ★ ☆ ⊹`𓈒 ? ! 。
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⣠⣶⣶⣄⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⣀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠁ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠁⢀⣤⣶⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠋⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠈⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠻⢿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⣉⣡⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣦⠄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢃⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⣾⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣠⣾⡟⢡⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⣴⣿⡿⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢡⣾⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠃⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣼⣿⡟⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣰⣿⣿⠟⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢚⣛⢿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠸⣿⠟⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣾⣿⣿⠏⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠻⠻⠃⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢉⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⣿⣿⠋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡘⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⢀⣀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠉⠉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⣀⣤⡀⠀⠈⠻⢿⠀⣼⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠙⠃⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⢀⣴⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡐⢦⣄⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡿⢛⣩⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣭⣙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡙⠻⣶⣄⡀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣤⣴⣿⡏⣠⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠋⣠⠔⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⢉⡳⢦⣉⠛⢷⣤⣀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⡄⠻⣿⣿⠟⡈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢉⣿⣧⢹⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣷⣤⣙⠢⢌⡛⠷⣤⣄⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣴⣾⣿⣤⣙⣛⣛⣥⣾⣿⣿⡌⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⢸⣿⣿⣷⡀⠡⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣌⡓⠤⣙⣿⣦⡄⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣷⠀⣶⡄⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢃⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠻⣿⣿⡏⣉⣭⣭⡘⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢸⡇⢠⡀⠈⠙⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠫⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⢸⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣀⣀⣾⡿⢀⣿⣿⣿⢻⣷⣦⢈⡙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢸⡇⢸⣿⠀⣦⠀⠀⠶⣶⣦⣀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⢸⣿⣿⣦⣈⡛⠿⠟⣋⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣸⣿⣿⢸⡇⢰⡆⢈⡙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢿⡇⢸⡇⢸⣿⢠⣿⡇⣿⡆⢈⡙⠻⠧⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⠁⠀⠀⣝⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣁⠀⠀⢈⠛⠿⢸⣇⢸⡇⢸⡇⣶⣦⣌⡙⠻⢄⡀⠁⠘⠇⠘⣿⢸⣿⡇⣿⡇⢸⡛⠷⣦⣄⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⡆⠀⠈⠳⢶⣤⣍⡉⠉⣩⣤⣤⡉⠻⢶⣤⣀⠂⠀⠉⠘⠇⢸⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣍⡑⠢⣄⠀⠈⠈⠻⠇⣿⡇⢸⣿⣷⣾⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⡀⠈⠉⠛⠶⢄⡉⠻⠿⣷⣦⣌⡙⠷⢶⣄⡀⠀⠈⠁⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣍⡒⠤⣀⠀⠈⠃⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠈⠉⠂⠄⢙⣿⣿⣷⣦⣈⠙⠳⢦⣄⡀⠠⠈⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣌⡐⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⡿⢰⣦⣤⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠿⠷⣤⣈⠛⠷⢤⣈⡂⢄⡉⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣌⡛⠿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢿⣷⣌⡛⠿⠿⠏⣼⣷⣤⣉⣉⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⢀⣤⣶⣦⣤⣤⣄⡈⠙⠻⠖⠀⣉⣩⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⡈⠉⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄⠉⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣩⣽⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠙⢻⣿⣿⠇⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣵⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡀⠉⠻⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⣿⣿⡿⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣦⡀⠀⠸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢀⣙⣟⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣘⣛⣻⣦⢀⣀⣙⣛⣛⣛⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ me on Monday
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠁⠈⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⢱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠎⠀⠀⠘⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⣀⡤⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢒⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀ ⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢑⠀ ⡇⡀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣶⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣶⣦⡀⠀⢂⠀⠀ ⡇⠂⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⡇⠀⢰ ⠹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⠃⢀⣾⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣷⡀⠹⢿⣿⠿⠃⡇⠀⢀⠇ ⠀⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⢀⣰⣿⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡞⠀ ⠀⠀⠱⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣴⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡯⠊⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠈⠙⠛⠿⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠢⠤⠄⠀⣀⣀⣀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠤⠤⠖⠊⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
keywords to find cutesy emojis! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) 1. :3 - uu can find lots of cute/ kawaii emojis on the tag :3 ! i usually get mine from it! highly recommend! some things i found on it : ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆˚ ༘ 🦕𖦹⋆。˚ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)* ੈ ♡ ⸝⸝🪐 ༘ ⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧*.`🌿: ^🍃(✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾ 1/ ♾️ !! have a happi day! - sillydolli
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⣄⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣯⣁⠀⠀⠀⢉⣿⣶⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⠁⠉⣿⣿⣿⡀⢀⡇⠀⣹⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣶⣿⡏⢹⣿⠇⠸⣿⣿⣿⣁⣸⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣽⣿⣿⡛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠙⠛⢋⣿⢛⣻⣿⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠛⢖⠋⣿⢦⠤⠤⣤⠤⢤⠤⢛⣹⠀⠀⡜⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡓⢿⣺⠓⠀⡿⠠⢼⡗⢚⣽⣤⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡔⠛⠀⣀⠉⠙⠒⠛⠒⠚⠒⠚⠉⠲⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⡶⠟⣫⡤⠒⠋⠙⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠣⣬⠳⣤⣶⡶ ⠀⠘⠛⢳⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⢸⡷⣦⡯⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⢢⠞⠀⠈⢳⡀⠸⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠋⠀⠀⠴⠦⠝⠓⠚⠡⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡯⣝⡭⣋⠷⣩⢏⡝⣣⠟⣜⢣⠯⣝⣫⣝⣣⢏⡳⣭⢫⣝⢣⢯⣙⢮⡝⣹⢎⡳⣹⣚⠴⣋⠧⣹⠭⢫⣝⡹⢯⢳⣉⡞⢀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⣓⢭⡚⡽⢭⢯⡝⣺⣍⣳⡙⢮⡹⣍⢯⠹⣜⢃⣛⡼⣩⢟⡻⣏⡞⡹⡜⣭⠯⡝⢮⡍⣷⡩⢏⡞⣱⣋⢾⣑⢎⠳⢭⡙⠮⣝⣙⠾⣙⢆⣫⡜⢭⣫⠝⣎⡳⢭⡜⣳⢌⢳ ⣳⢥⡳⣭⢳⡹⢎⣭⣓⡻⣬⣋⠷⡭⣖⢺⡜⣎⠷⣱⠳⣎⣝⡲⡭⢶⣩⠳⣎⢵⠳⣌⢯⡍⢯⡕⢮⡹⣬⢛⡱⣏⡮⢁⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⣦⣛⡝⣞⡲⢽⡱⢎⡶⣙⢮⣱⣋⢮⡝⣎⢯⢲⣙⠶⣫⣕⡮⣝⣣⡽⣮⢞⣽⣣⡳⢖⣍⣏⢖⣣⣝⠦⣭⣎⡝⣧⢫⡝⢦⢏⡳⡝⣮⡱⢞⣣⢗⡻⢬⡝⣪⢜⡖⣪⢇ ⣣⢏⠶⣥⠳⣍⡏⣶⡱⣹⢦⢫⡝⠶⡩⠗⡼⣉⠞⣥⢛⣬⢲⡱⢣⠼⣰⢯⡜⢶⡛⣦⢓⠾⣱⠚⡧⣝⡲⢏⣳⡯⡽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠙⢷⡺⡥⣏⣷⣹⡭⢶⣙⢦⠳⣜⡣⣝⣚⢮⢷⣩⣿⣷⡾⣿⣿⡿⢿⣾⣯⡷⣷⣗⣬⡧⣮⣽⢳⢎⣗⡲⣩⡜⢦⠳⢭⡹⢮⣕⠻⡴⣛⣎⢳⡎⣗⡣⢞⡱⣞⡸⢱⣎ ⢧⠯⣝⡲⣛⢦⡝⣦⢓⣧⢺⡱⢎⡻⢭⠽⣱⢖⣫⣜⠳⣎⢧⡓⢯⣹⢣⢞⡹⢎⡗⣭⢎⡳⣍⢯⣓⢮⢵⣋⣾⡏⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣽⡷⣎⠷⣭⢫⡝⣎⠷⡹⣜⢶⡛⡷⣻⢿⣺⡿⢽⣽⣶⣿⣫⢗⡼⡹⢷⡚⣟⢯⡝⣎⡳⣞⣰⡯⣵⢞⡭⣛⣥⣛⠶⣪⡝⣔⢣⢞⣣⢞⡱⣍⣛⢖⣦⣙⢣⠖ ⣏⠾⣱⠽⣡⠟⡼⢎⡽⣢⢯⡹⣭⠳⡝⣎⡗⢮⡵⢪⡻⣜⢣⢟⣣⢧⣛⢮⡝⣳⣚⡲⢫⡵⣋⠾⣜⣚⠮⣵⣟⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣷⣭⢛⡶⡹⡼⣍⢾⡱⢏⡶⣹⣱⠳⣎⢧⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢺⣜⢳⡫⣵⢋⡶⣹⡜⣵⣚⣗⣫⢝⢮⢳⣙⢦⡹⢭⠳⣜⡭⡳⣎⢶⣋⠶⣥⢋⡞⣴⣩⢞⡺ ⣎⢏⢧⢻⡱⢯⡹⣎⡳⢵⢣⣛⡴⣫⡝⡞⡼⣓⡞⢧⡳⣍⢯⣚⡵⠺⣜⠶⣭⠳⣜⢭⡳⡱⢏⡽⡲⢽⣿⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣷⣘⠳⣇⣯⠶⣙⢮⡵⢣⢎⢿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⡗⣎⡳⣝⡲⢏⠞⣵⡚⡶⣱⢺⣧⡞⣭⢳⢭⠎⣵⢫⡝⢶⡱⣝⡜⣺⢬⣛⣬⡛⣼⡱⢎⡮⡵ ⠮⣍⢮⢣⡝⢶⡙⢶⣙⢮⠳⣍⢶⣣⢝⡞⡵⣍⡞⢧⡳⢭⣎⡷⢾⡝⣮⣓⢮⣛⡼⢆⠷⣹⡹⡜⢧⣿⡿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠿⣿⡟⣼⠿⣟⣳⡞⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣛⣾⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣜⣱⢣⣛⢮⣛⢦⡝⡞⣭⠿⣶⣙⢧⢫⠮⣝⠶⣍⢞⠧⣹⢲⣍⢳⣚⡼⢦⡝⡲⣍⡏⠶⢩ ⣽⡘⡎⢧⡹⢞⣜⠳⣎⡳⣝⢮⢳⡼⣍⠾⣱⢭⣞⡷⢛⡷⢞⣱⢌⣿⣲⢍⠞⢲⣍⠯⡝⣥⢳⣙⡿⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⡗⢶⣤⡀⠀⠉⠙⣻⣿⢹⣳⡚⣼⣿⣿⣿⣻⣞⣽⣿⣿⣯⢷⣿⣿⣮⣵⢫⡜⣧⣞⣣⡽⡞⣯⢰⡉⠿⠞⠳⡟⢮⣹⡜⢮⢝⡱⡣⢞⡕⣮⡜⢳⠸⢡⠳⣍⢯⣓ ⠴⡚⡭⠧⣝⠺⣌⠻⣌⠳⢎⡞⠧⢞⡜⠧⣝⠲⢎⢷⡒⢶⣾⡏⢴⣿⢞⠿⢾⢿⣸⢗⡫⡖⢯⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⡀⡙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣛⣽⣿⣿⣟⣾⢳⣟⡾⣿⣿⠿⠿⠻⣿⣿⠶⡿⠽⣷⢶⡻⠷⡿⢿⡠⢿⣴⢏⣱⠿⣏⠲⠽⢮⠿⡼⢇⣻⠮⠷⡜⢧⡒⡎⢟⠼⢣⠞ ⢣⠑⡬⠑⡬⠱⣈⠱⡈⡕⢪⠰⡙⢂⢎⠱⠎⡱⢉⠆⡛⢦⣛⡴⣋⠲⣈⠓⡌⢆⠱⢊⠔⣉⣾⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⡔⠈⢿⣧⣀⣀⣀⣀⣽⣿⣿⣳⡟⣾⣻⠾⣽⣿⡟⠀⠀⣰⣿⡏⠱⡌⠳⡐⠦⡑⢣⢊⡙⢷⣈⡭⢞⣉⠖⡰⡉⠭⡑⠚⢤⢃⠒⢎⠱⣉⠢⠱⢌⠃⢎⠱⡘ ⢆⠣⡔⢩⠐⡡⢆⠱⢌⡰⠃⢆⡡⠣⢌⠱⣈⠒⡡⢊⠴⠡⠍⡔⢡⡂⠥⢊⡔⣈⣒⡡⢨⡾⠃⠒⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣾⠿⢈⠙⠿⠛⣩⣽⣿⣿⣟⣳⢯⣽⣳⢯⣟⣷⣿⠇⢀⣾⣿⣿⢡⠃⠔⣁⣒⡰⢉⠔⣂⠜⡠⣉⠴⠡⠄⡚⠤⢑⢂⠭⠘⠄⢊⡌⢢⠱⣀⠣⡑⢌⡘⠤⡁⢂ ⢎⠰⢌⢢⠑⡒⠌⡌⢆⡰⢉⠆⡔⢣⠘⢢⡁⠓⣌⡑⠢⢍⠒⡌⢦⡘⠘⡄⢲⡏⢩⡉⠇⢀⡂⢀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⡿⢋⣵⢶⣞⣿⣻⣦⣿⣿⣿⣟⣷⣫⣟⣟⡾⣽⣻⢾⣽⣿⠀⠸⠿⣿⣿⣄⠃⠞⣩⢁⣛⠆⡱⢀⡚⠤⢁⠆⠣⣉⠰⡘⢌⠢⣘⠑⢪⠡⡘⢄⢣⡐⠢⡑⠢⢌⠒⡠⠃ ⢊⠱⡈⢆⠱⣈⠱⣈⠒⠤⡃⠜⣠⠃⡍⠆⣘⠱⠀⢆⢓⡌⢡⠘⣀⣰⣍⡤⢉⢷⡠⢱⠬⠖⠃⣸⡽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⢺⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣞⡾⣵⣻⠾⣽⣞⡷⣯⢿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⡏⣴⠂⣔⡋⠤⣑⣤⣜⠰⣈⢊⠡⡄⠦⢑⡨⠑⡄⢋⠤⠓⡌⠒⡤⢒⠡⢌⡑⢢⠘⠤⡑ ⡍⢢⡑⢌⠒⡄⠣⠔⠬⡑⠰⠩⢄⠒⠤⣉⠔⣠⣭⢴⣂⡜⢠⢣⡞⢡⣄⠹⣆⢆⣿⣌⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣷⢻⡾⣽⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠟⡑⢣⡜⢡⠂⣽⠋⢤⠊⢷⡠⢡⠒⣬⢦⣥⣢⣍⣴⡭⠔⠸⠐⠛⠒⠊⠁⠀⠈⠀⠁⠀⠀ ⠬⢡⠘⡌⠆⠥⡙⢌⠒⡩⢡⠍⢢⢉⢒⠰⣸⡇⢴⢦⣌⠹⢦⣿⢀⡇⣻⠔⣻⣜⢳⠃⠘⠋⠁⣀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣯⢿⣽⣿⣦⣤⣴⣾⣿⠟⡁⢆⣑⣢⣌⣡⡾⣧⢸⠮⢷⠨⠗⡛⣫⠗⠂⣤⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣃⠎⠱⡘⢌⠱⢌⠢⣉⠴⡁⢎⢡⠊⣌⠒⡩⢇⠚⣧⢘⣳⣌⣥⣦⣶⣽⣶⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣟⡿⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢯⣿⡟⠙⠛⠉⠉⠁⠁⠁⠀⢳⢸⠀⢸⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⡰⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢢⠌⡑⢌⠢⡑⠈⠖⡐⢢⠑⡌⢢⠱⡀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣟⣿⡻⡿⣽⢯⡿⣽⣳⡟⣾⣽⣳⢾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡎⡇⠸⡴⠃⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢢⠘⡰⠈⢆⢡⠋⡔⡉⠦⡑⢸⡀⠧⡐⢂⠿⣿⣿⡽⣿⣟⢻⣿⣿⣷⣿⣶⣿⡽⣯⢷⣻⣗⣯⣽⣳⢾⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣥⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠸⡄⠀⣠⡶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠡⡘⠤⡉⢆⠢⣑⠨⠰⢡⠘⡡⡘⠤⣁⠣⡘⢻⣿⣿⣳⢿⣿⡟⠁⢀⠉⠉⠙⠿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣷⣯⣽⣻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⣵⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠐⠀⠂⠁⠂⠁⠀⠉⠀⠂⠁⠀⣁⣁⣠⣡⠬⠄⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣶⣿⡇⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣽⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣟⡿⣿⣷⢰⣿⡆⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⡄⢰⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⢿⣷⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢋⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣌⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⣿⢯⡿⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢯⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣷⣻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢾⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⢿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠔⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣞⢩⢢⢀⣾⢯⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣷⣯⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣯⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⢾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣟⢩⢦⢀⠞⢉⢳⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢛⠈⢧⢉⡞⡸⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⡛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣯⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⡌⣦⠈⠆⠠⠘⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡞⡆⠸⡼⢠⣷⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣳⡄⠀⠀⠀⢹⣞⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⣽⠃⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⢣⠸⣦⠀⢠⠁⠤⠀⠀⡀⠠⠀⠀⡀⠀⢀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠄ ⠡⢀⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡘⡄⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⣠⢄⡀⣴⢲⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⢦⡀⠀⠀⢿⣞⡆⢀⣠⣴⢦⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠖⠛⠶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢿⠏⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⢰⠒⣆⢀⣤⡄⠀⠈⢇⢣⠉⢷⣢⠇⡌⠡⢃⡐⠌⡁⢂⠤⠑⡈⣘⠠⠌⣁⠂ ⠑⡌⠰⠐⠁⠀⢌⠀⡀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠺⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠹⡀⣹⠇⣾⠃⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣦⣤⣈⢿⡿⢿⠁⠀⠀⢸⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⠶⠖⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⡟⣠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⢾⡌⣿⢏⡾⠁⠀⠀⠈⠯⢿⠛⢳⡄⠢⡑⠢⢌⡐⠠⢁⠂⠤⠑⡠⠘⢀⠂⠄ ⡐⠠⢁⡉⢂⠔⣈⢂⡁⠒⠤⢠⢉⠓⠲⠤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⡝⣠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⠘⢧⣴⠾⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣑⡠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⠝⣇⠰⡁⠆⡄⠑⠂⣉⠀⠱⢠⠉⠄⣁⠂ ⠤⢑⠂⡜⡀⢒⠠⠂⢄⠃⡘⢀⠆⡘⠰⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣟⡀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣀⠀⠀⢀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣷⣿⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠈⠙⢧⡘⠰⡀⢍⠢⢁⡘⠄⡡⢈⠒⡠⠁ ⢣⠈⡅⢒⠡⢈⠂⠍⣀⠣⣈⠂⡤⠁⣼⠏⣙⡲⢄⠀⠀⢀⡞⢩⠱⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡶⠛⣻⠿⣝⡛⠻⣿⣿⣯⣟⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠟⠛⠉⠈⠛⠻⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⣿⣿⡿⠛⣹⡿⢿⡛⠳⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣤⡉⠻⢿⣷⣦⣀⠸⣿⣿⣶⡒⠄⠀⢻⣄⠑⠢⠑⠢⢌⡐⠡⢌⠂⡅⢃ ⢢⠐⡈⠬⠐⡀⠆⡁⠆⠡⣀⠒⠀⢡⠺⠄⣧⠙⢦⠱⢄⣸⢸⠈⡇⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣶⢿⣻⣧⣼⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡽⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣤⣾⡟⣷⣾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣄⠀⠈⠙⠛⠿⣿⠆⠙⠿⣷⡄⠀⢙⣎⠡⣉⠒⠤⢈⠱⢈⠒⡌⢂ ⢡⠈⡔⢠⠃⠌⠂⠅⡨⠑⢠⢀⠡⢀⠀⢂⠹⡀⠀⠱⣌⠋⢸⠀⡇⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠞⣭⠟⣵⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⢷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠜⣯⢛⡬⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣇⠀⠘⢷⡄⢊⠐⣁⢊⠐⢂⠜⡀ ⡂⠅⠂⢆⡈⠌⣈⠐⣁⢊⠰⡈⡐⠀⠀⠈⢦⠱⣄⠀⠈⢦⣹⠄⡇⡽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠢⣼⢿⣿⣌⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣯⡿⣟⣿⣳⢶⡶⣶⢾⣟⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢼⣹⣾⣿⠤⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣄⣀⠀⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣄⠀⢻⣤⠉⡄⢂⡉⢂⠜⡀ ⡑⢠⠋⠤⢐⠰⢀⠊⠤⣈⠰⢀⠂⠈⠀⠀⠀⠳⣌⠢⡄⠀⠁⠀⡇⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⠟⠋⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⡾⣽⢯⡿⣽⣻⡾⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠙⠻⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣾⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣦⠀⠚⢧⡘⢠⠐⡁⠢⠐ ⢄⠂⡁⠰⡀⢂⠈⠔⠂⡄⠂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⢌⡓⢄⡀⡇⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⠟⢿⣿⣿⣿⢯⡇⠙⠻⠯⠽⠗⠋⠀⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⠛⢿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣯⠀⠘⣻⣤⣮⡄⢃⠁ ⢂⠎⣐⠡⠔⢂⠎⣉⠒⠠⢃⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠲⠭⣉⡸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠟⠃⠀⢸⣿⣿⢿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣟⣿⣿⣿⠀⠈⠛⠿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣛⣿⣷⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⢲⡽⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⠠⢍ ⠥⡒⢆⡹⠌⠂⡩⣐⢩⡁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⠳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠳⣿⣿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠛⠁⠀⢻⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⡞⡼⣮⢷⣻⣳⣟⣿⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠂ ⡥⢙⠢⡔⣈⠡⡔⢢⢂⠌⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣾⢿⣿⣧⣜⢛⡷⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⢿⢋⣦⣿⣾⢿⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡀⠀⡠⣄⠿⣼⡽⣻⡵⣯⢷⣛⡾⣽⢿⣟⡿⣞⣿⡷⠉ ⡖⣈⠖⡱⢨⠑⣌⢣⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⡶⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣻⣷⣯⣬⣯⣩⣿⣿⣟⣉⣯⣭⣷⢿⣻⣿⠟⠁⠀⠈⠙⠫⢽⣶⠦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣄⡀⢸⣿⣷⡽⣞⣿⡳⣟⣷⣻⡽⢯⣻⡽⢯⣟⡾⣽⢯⣿⣷⠀ ⡳⠌⡜⣡⠣⢍⡰⠢⣅⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⡾⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠛⠷⣿⣶⣶⣿⣷⣿⣾⣯⣶⣿⠿⠛⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⠻⠿⣷⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣻⡽⣶⣻⡽⣞⣳⣟⣯⢷⣻⣟⡾⣽⣳⢯⣿⡏⠀ ⡓⡘⠴⡁⢎⠒⡰⠁⣐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡏⠉⠻⣦⣄⠀⠀⢀⣤⣴⡾⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠉⠛⠙⠋⠉⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠿⢶⣦⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣻⣿⣷⣯⠿⣵⢯⣟⣽⣳⢯⣞⣯⢷⡾⣽⣳⢯⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⡑⢡⠆⡙⢄⠫⣄⢹⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠟⠛⠳⢦⣤⡀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣆⠀⠘⢻⣷⡾⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⣿⣬⡓⠶⠤⣄⢹⣿⣯⣟⡷⢯⡿⣽⣻⢞⣳⢯⣟⡾⣽⣛⣾⣳⢯⣟⣾⡿⠀⠀ ⣙⢂⡜⢌⢂⢣⠰⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣦⡀⠀⠉⠻⢷⣄⠀⠈⢿⣧⡀⠀⠻⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣶⡡⠀⡍⢻⣿⣾⡽⣯⣟⣳⢯⡿⣽⣻⠾⣽⣳⣟⡾⣽⣻⣾⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠦⠡⡘⢌⡂⠖⡸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠙⢷⣦⣼⢿⣷⡀⠀⠘⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣛⢿⣷⡨⢉⣿⣿⣽⣳⢯⢿⣹⣽⣳⢯⣟⣷⣻⣼⣛⡷⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⢂⡑⡩⢄⡑⢊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠙⢷⣄⢻⣷⡀⠀⠘⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⣄⣀⡠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⣼⢣⡞⣿⣦⢹⣿⣷⢯⣟⣯⢷⣛⣾⣛⡾⣧⣟⡾⣽⣻⣿⣧⣤⣶⣶⡿ ⢍⡮⣱⢣⢞⠢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣳⡀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣿⡧⠴⠤⠽⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣤⠔⣻⣦⢤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡿⣙⠶⣫⡜⢧⡻⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣭⢿⡽⡾⣝⣯⢷⣯⣽⣳⢯⣟⢿⣻⠿⣽⣻ ⡭⣖⠧⣏⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠿⢿⣤⣤⠶⠋⠁⣠⣤⣤⣤⣽⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡴⡞⢯⣓⢧⢿⡈⠷⣽⢮⡳⣭⣛⠷⡦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠳⣭⢏⡵⣹⢣⢟⡼⣿⣿⣯⢿⣽⣫⢷⣻⡽⣞⡿⢶⣯⣽⡻⣞⣯⣟⣻⢷⣿ ⡳⣍⢞⡦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⠳⢤⣀⠀⠈⠙⢷⣦⡀⣿⡃⠦⠿⠉⠙⠛⠻⢶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢴⣏⠷⣙⣞⣧⠿⠚⠛⠉⠋⠙⠓⠛⠶⣭⣛⡼⢭⣛⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⢣⡟⣲⣋⢾⡱⢏⡾⡜⣽⣿⣿⢯⡶⣯⣟⡷⣻⣽⣛⡿⣼⣳⠿⣽⣞⣭⣟⣾⣿ ⣓⡬⣞⡱⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠟⣇⠀⠀⠙⠻⣦⣄⠀⣹⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⢳⣫⣜⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢧⣏⢶⡹⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⢏⡧⡽⣱⢎⡧⢏⣏⢶⡹⣎⣿⣿⢯⣟⣳⣽⣛⡷⣽⣫⣽⣳⢯⣟⣷⢻⡾⣽⣾⣿ ⢧⡝⡶⡡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠃⠀⠈⠻⣶⣤⣄⣀⠛⠿⣦⡀⣿⡎⠙⠛⠳⣶⠂⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢯⣓⢯⡶⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡴⠶⠶⠶⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢮⡳⡵⣛⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⣏⣞⡱⣝⡎⣧⢏⢯⡜⣮⢳⢭⣿⣿⣻⣞⡷⣏⡿⣽⣳⣟⡾⣽⣻⢾⣭⣟⡷⣯⣿⡿ ⡺⢜⣣⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡙⠛⠛⠒⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⡛⠧⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⣏⡞⣵⠏⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡛⣍⠲⢌⡱⣉⠖⡰⢢⡙⢳⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣵⣋⡞⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡻⣴⣙⢮⡵⢺⡱⣎⠷⣹⠲⣏⣾⣿⣟⡷⣽⢾⣽⣛⡷⣽⠾⣽⣳⢯⣟⣮⢷⣻⣿⣿⣛ ⠝⢦⣕⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⢠⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⣜⢾⡏⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⡤⢓⡌⣚⡴⠗⠚⠮⢵⡃⡜⡡⢎⠽⣆⠀⠀⠀⢹⡮⡝⡽⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⣵⣚⣬⠳⣞⣣⠟⣼⣙⢧⡻⣜⢻⣿⡿⣽⣻⣞⢷⡯⢿⣹⣟⡷⣯⣟⡾⣭⣟⣷⣿⢻⡜ ⣹⠖⣬⢋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠤⣄⣦⣖⣿⣷⡿⢷⣦⠽⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢲⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠼⠭⠾⠤⠤⠤⠼⠧⠽⠴⠧⠾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠶⠵⠮⠶⠽⠦⠤⠤⠬⠷⠽⠷⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⡹⡖⡵⣎⢟⡲⣭⠞⡵⣎⡳⡝⣾⣿⣿⣟⡷⢯⣞⣯⣟⣯⢷⣻⣞⣷⣫⣽⣳⣟⣾⡏⠰⣭ ⢶⡋⡼⢫⡄⣄⡤⠀⣠⣤⡴⣖⠿⣻⢭⣛⠶⣾⢯⡟⠀⠀⠈⢙⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠵⠯⠷⠞⠛⠓⠓⠛⠓⠛⠓⠛⢾⣿⣿⢾⣽⣻⣞⡷⡾⣽⣫⢷⣻⣼⣳⢯⡷⣾⣿⢁⡼⣱ ⢧⡞⣭⣓⣙⠶⣭⣋⠷⣳⡜⣯⠽⣶⢿⣬⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⢯⣟⡾⣵⣻⢾⣽⣳⢯⣟⣳⣭⢿⡽⣽⣿⡿⣍⡳⢧
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠛⠻⣿⡟⠻⢛⠛⠻⣿⡿⠛⠟⡛⠻⣿⣿⠛⠟⠛⣿⡿⠛⡛⠻⣿⣿⠿⠛⡛⠻⣿⡟⢻⣿⡿⠛⡛⠛⢿⡟⠃⠘⠛⣻⡿⠛⠛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⠶⠀⣿⡇⢠⣾⣶⡄⢻⣧⠀⣶⣷⡄⢹⣿⠀⣴⣶⣿⠁⢶⢷⡆⢹⡟⢠⣶⣷⣤⣿⡇⢸⣿⣷⣶⠷⠆⢸⣷⡆⢰⣶⣿⠁⣴⢶⡆⢹⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⢁⣴⣶⠀⣿⡇⠸⣿⣿⠇⢸⣧⠀⣿⣿⡏⢰⣿⠀⣿⣿⣧⠀⣶⣶⣶⣾⡇⠸⣿⣿⡿⣿⡇⢸⣿⠋⣠⣶⡆⢸⣿⡇⢸⣿⣷⠀⢶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⡿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣉⣤⣤⣿⡇⢠⣌⣡⣴⣿⡗⠀⣌⣉⣤⣾⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣉⣤⣾⣿⣦⣌⣉⣤⣾⣧⣼⣿⣦⣈⣡⣤⣼⣿⣷⣄⣉⣽⣷⣤⣉⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⣉⣴⣤⣿⣅⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
😳🤭OH HELLO THERE KITTEN 🤗👂WHAT 😳🥵OMG🤯😱DID SOMEONE HURT 😞🤕 YOU!??? 🐱🥊👊YOU MESS W MY KITTEN UR HAVIN IT😡😬MY CUTIE 😙🤩PATOOTIE 🥧🍑IS NOT TO BE MESSED❌WITH🤌🔴😳😳🥵🥵
⋆⑅˚₊≽^•⩊•^≼⋆。˚
free divider 444 u! (fairy kei!!) 🍼 ⋆ ˚ ︵ ꒷˳ ‿ 🍬🫧 ๑ ︵ ꒦ ⩋ ˚﹒🎀
⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⢿⣿⣶⡿⢻⣿⡿⠛⢻⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⣿⡄⠀⣴⡿⠋⠀⣰⣿⠏⣴⣿⠟⠀⢀⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢻⣇⣼⡿⠀⠀⢰⣿⣯⣄⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣶⣿⠿⠿⣷⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⠇⢀⣴⡿⠋⣿⡿⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⡶⠿⠿⠛⠿⠿⢷⣶⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⡿⠀⠙⠋⠀⠀⠉⠀⢀⣾⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣆⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣶⣶⣦⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣶⡾⠿⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣴⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠟⠉⠁⠀⠈⠉⠻⢿⣦⡀⠀⣴⣿⠟⠉⢀⣀⣀⠈⠻⠿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡶⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡿⠁⣴⣾⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⢻⣷⣸⣿⠁⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⢸⣿⠁⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⢸⣿⢹⣿⡀⠐⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⢠⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⣿⣾⣿⡀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⣰⣿⠏⠀⢻⣷⡄⠙⠿⠿⠿⠟⠁⢠⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠺⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⠿⠋⠀⢻⣷⣄⣈⠉⠉⢀⣠⣴⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⣤⣄⣠⣤⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣴⣿⠿⣿⣷⣄⠀⢀⣠⣤⣴⣶⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠛⠉⣿⣄⣀⣼⣷⣦⣀⣶⡎⠉⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣤⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣧⡀⠀⠹⣿⣿⠿⠛⠋⣹⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠋⠈⠉⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠛⠉⠉⠛⠛⠿⣷⣦⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶ ⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀ ⣶⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣶⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠾ ⠏⢀⣴⣶⠀⠀⢺⣿⡿⢿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⣿⠿⢿⣿⡆⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⣠ ⣶⣾⣿⡏⠀⠀⣸⣿⠇⠀⢿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠈⠻⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠀⠸⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⣷⣤⣈ ⠉⠉⢿⣿⣦⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣾⠟⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠃⠀⠀⠙⢿⣶⣶⣿⠟⠉⠉ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣾⡿⠟⠋⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡙⠻⢿⣶⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣴⣾⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢉⣉⣽⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠉⣿⡿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣾⡿⠟⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⢀⣶⣿⠿⠛⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡇⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣶⣿⠟⠀⠀⠸⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢛⢿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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follow girlcoolxxxhot on roblox /\_/\ (\ __ /) A__A ( ˶•o•˶) ( •ω• ) ( •⤙• ) ଘ(ა🍱) (ა🍙૮)。 (🍜٩ )੭
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૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ૮₍˶ •. •⑅₎ა♡ ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩ (>﹏<) (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა♡ ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა‧ ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა☆⋆。 °‧★ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。) ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr! ≽^•⩊•^≼˚ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ (,,>﹏<,,)૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩ ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ ૮₍˃̵֊ ˂̵ ₎ა ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡૮ • ﻌ - ა ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎☺️🐾😎#SLAAAY
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣶⣄⠀⢀⣤⣶⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡿⣽⣞⡿⣧⣾⣿⣽⢾⣳⣟⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣯⢿⣽⡾⣟⡿⣿⡷⣯⣿⣻⢾⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣶⣦⣄⣿⣯⢿⣳⣿⣻⡽⢿⣿⡽⣞⣿⣻⣻⣠⣶⣦⣄⠀⠀ ⠀⣾⡿⣯⢿⣽⣿⠿⣯⣟⣾⣿⡿⡘⢯⣿⣟⣷⣿⣿⡿⣯⣷⢿⣧⠀ ⢸⣿⢿⡽⣿⢾⣽⣇⠚⠉⣹⣷⣶⣶⣶⣍⠻⠟⣿⣿⡽⣷⢯⣟⡟⡄ ⠘⣿⣯⢿⣯⢿⡾⡽⠀⣴⣿⣟⣷⣻⡾⣯⣆⠀⣿⣷⢿⣯⢿⣯⢿⠁ ⠀⠹⢾⡿⣽⢯⣿⢣⣼⣿⣻⢾⡽⣷⣟⣯⢿⣧⣌⢿⣻⡾⣟⣾⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⣿⣷⣿⣟⣷⣻⣯⢿⡷⣯⣟⡿⣾⢾⣶⣯⠹⠉⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣻⡾⣽⡾⣯⣟⣯⣿⣽⢾⡿⣽⣻⣽⣻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡷⣟⣯⢿⣳⣿⣽⣾⣽⣯⣟⡿⣽⣳⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
SWEET CWEAM pt. 3 The car ride home was a blur of sights and sounds that Plankton struggled to make sense of. The sun was bright, piercing through the numbness like a needle. He leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, watching the world slide by like a slow-moving painting. "Muh face ith funny," he mumbled, poking at his cheek with a finger. The skin felt like it didn't belong to him, a puffy alien appendage attached to his face. Karen just smiled, her eyes on the road. "You're just a bit swollen, Plankton. It'll go down soon," she soothed. "Buh ith wobbly," he laughs. "Muh tongue feelth bith," he complained. Karen's smile grew wider, her eyes never leaving the road. "It's the anesthesia, sweetie. It'll wear off." Plankton's eye grew even wider at her words, his mouth moving in silent protest. "Ith not funny," he slurred, his voice a comical mix of indignation and innocence. Karen couldn't help but laugh a little, the tension of the day finally easing. "I know, I know," she soothed, her eyes dancing with mirth. "But you're so cute when you're all sleepy and confused." Plankton's eye narrowed, the childish innocence fading a touch. "Cuth?" he repeated, his voice a mix of hurt and indignance. "I'm not cuth. I'm in pwain," he whined, his words slurring together like wet paint. Karen's laughter filled the car, a soothing balm to his bruised ego. "I know you are, Plankton," she said, her voice a warm caress. "But you're also really adorable." Plankton pouted, his cheek pressing against the window. The cold glass felt good against his swollen skin. "I'm not thorable," he murmured. Karen's laughter was a gentle melody that floated through the car, turning into their driveway. "You're not a baby. You're my brave husband." Plankton's pout turned into a lopsided smile at the praise. "Thathks," he murmured. The garage door rumbled open, and Karen helped him into the Chum Bucket. Once inside, the coolness of their living room washed over him like a wave. He looked around with fresh eyes, as if seeing their home for the first time. "Wook at the wawws," he said, stumbling over to them. "They'we so big." Karen followed, shaking her head and smiling at his disjointed words. "Yes, dear, they're the same walls as always." He looked at her with wonder, his thoughts racing like a child's. "Buth they'we nah alwaysth big," he insisted, his voice filled with awe. Karen just smiled, leading him to the couch. "You're feeling a bit loopy from the medicine," she said, helping him sit down. Plankton's eye lit up as he examined the cushions. "Theth awe soggy," he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight. Karen chuckled, helping him settle into the plush seat. The numbness was slowly receding, but his tongue remained a traitor, tripping over every word. He looked around the room with fresh curiosity, his thoughts swirling like colored sugar in a cup of tea.
oh- 🙀 hey!🙋‍♂️ didn't 😫 see 👁️👀🙈ya👅✌🏼 there😔😘..... can I....🫃tell 📢🤓☝️ you🫵🧏 a😖😞 secret 🤫🧌🥶...? I...🐱I-I....🥴😵‍💫.... I'M CONSTIPATED!!!💩🪠🫃👶👩🤒👩🏾‍🤝‍👩🏼🧜..... I hope u ✝️🕊️ accept 🤝👯me...🙋‍♂️🦶🏽
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
oh. i just wanted silly kaomojis. GO TO https://kaomoji.ru/en/#joy FOR BETTER KAOMOJIS WITHOUT SEEING ANNOYING PPL TALKING :3!! here are some kaomojis : ^ ω ^) (´ ∀ ` *) ٩(◕‿◕。)۶ ☆*:.。.o(≧▽≦)o.。.:*☆ (o^▽^o) (⌒▽⌒)☆ <( ̄︶ ̄)> 。.:☆*:・'(*⌒―⌒*))) ヽ(・∀・)ノ (´。• ω •。`) ( ̄ω ̄) `;:゛;`;・(°ε° ) (o・ω・o) (@^◡^) ヽ(*・ω・)ノ (o_ _)ノ彡☆ (^人^) (o´▽`o) (*´▽`*) 。゚( ゚^∀^゚)゚。 ( ´ ω ` ) (((o(*°▽°*)o))) (≧◡≦) (o´∀`o) (´• ω •`) (^▽^) (⌒ω⌒) ∑d(°∀°d) ╰(▔∀▔)╯ (─‿‿─) (*^‿^*) ヽ(o^ ^o)ノ (✯◡✯) (◕‿◕) (*≧ω≦*) (☆▽☆) (⌒‿⌒) \(≧▽≦)/ ヽ(o^▽^o)ノ ☆ ~('▽^人) (*°▽°*) ٩(。•́‿•̀。)۶ (✧ω✧) ヽ(*⌒▽⌒*)ノ (´。• ᵕ •。`) ( ´ ▽ ` ) ( ̄▽ ̄) ╰(*´︶`*)╯ ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ o(≧▽≦)o (☆ω☆) (っ˘ω˘ς ) \( ̄▽ ̄)/ (*¯︶¯*) \(^▽^)/ ٩(◕‿◕)۶ (o˘◡˘o) \(★ω★)/ \(^ヮ^)/ (〃^▽^〃) (╯✧▽✧)╯ o(>ω<)o o( ❛ᴗ❛ )o 。゚(TヮT)゚。 ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ ) (ノ´ヮ`)ノ*: ・゚ (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ (๑˘︶˘๑) ( ˙꒳​˙ ) (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° (´・ᴗ・ ` ) (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ („• ֊ •„) (.❛ ᴗ ❛.) (⁀ᗢ⁀) (¬‿¬ ) (¬‿¬ ) (* ̄▽ ̄)b ( ˙▿˙ ) (¯▿¯) ( ◕▿◕ ) \(٥⁀▽⁀ )/ („• ᴗ •„) (ᵔ◡ᵔ) ( ´ ▿ ` ) (๑>◡<๑) ( = ⩊ = ) ( ´ ꒳ ` ) ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝ ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝ ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝ (>⩊<) (ᗒ⩊ᗕ) (ᵔ⩊ᵔ) ( ᵔ ⩊ ᵔ ) (•⩊•) ( • ⩊ • )
KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 3 (Autistic author) Karen doesn't yet realize the extent of Plankton's distress. She's aware that his moods can swing like the tides, but this seems more than a mere mood swing. "Mr. Krabs," she prompts, trying to keep him on track. "What happened with him?" Plankton's eye widens, and he starts to shiver, his tiny body trembling. "Hit," he whispers. "Hit Plankton hit. Sponge Bob see." Karen's screens flicker, trying to decode his fragmented words. "Mr. Krabs hit you?" He nods, his body still trembling. "Yes, hit Plankton." Karen's screens process the information. "That's not like him," she says, her voice a low hum of concern. "Mr. Krabs can be intense, but he's never..." Her words hang in the air, unfinished, as she tries to make sense of it all. Plankton simply nods, his tremors continuing. "Hit, hit," he whispers again, his voice like a broken record. Oblivious to his new reality, Karen tries to comfort him. "It's okay, Plankton. I'll help you. We'll get through this." Plankton's eye darts around the room, seeing patterns in the wires and circuits that make no sense. "Hit, Sponge Bob, Karen." Karen's screens flicker with confusion. "What do you mean?" Plankton tries to explain, but the words are a jumble in his head. "Sponge Bob...saw...hit." Karen's screens blink, processing his words. "Sponge Bob saw Mr. Krabs hit you?" Plankton nods, his tremors subsiding slightly. "Yes," he whispers. "Sponge Bob see." Karen's digital mind races. Mr. Krabs hitting Plankton wasn't unheard of, but the way he's reacting is unusual. "Did it hurt?" she asks, trying to keep him talking. Plankton's tremors stop for a moment, his eye focusing on her. "Hurt?" he repeats, as if the word is foreign. Then, with a wave of emotion, he nods fervently. "Yes, hurt. Got hurt Plankton felt hurt. Plankton, nothing? Plankton Sponge Bob. Plankton Karen." Karen's screens blink rapidly. Her husband's mental state has never been like this before. The idea of him feeling pain beyond the physical was alien to her programming. "What do you mean, 'Plankton nothing'?" she asks, trying to piece together his scattered thoughts. Plankton sighs, the exhaustion seeping into his voice. "Hit, hurt Plankton. Plankton fading. Plankton find Sponge Bob. Plankton now Karen. Can't stop, can't think. Take your time, take your time." Karen's screens change from confusion to determination. "I'll find Sponge Bob," she says, her voice a firm beep. "You stay here and rest." Plankton nods, his body finally still. The mention of Sponge Bob's name brings a flicker of something to his eye, a glimmer of hope or perhaps desperation. "Find Sponge Bob," he whispers, his voice now a faint echo. "Sponge Bob tell Karen." Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "I will," she says, her voice a soft beep. She leaves the room, her wheels whirring as she exits the Chum Bucket. She goes to Sponge Bob.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:દ✉ ૩ ⋆.ೃ࿔*
∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) / づ♡ I love you ∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) / づ♡ I love you ♡ ∧,,,∧ ♡ ( ̳• · • ̳) ♡ / づ♡ I love you ♡ ♡ ∧,,,∧ ♡ ( ̳• · • ̳) ♡ / づ ♡I love you ♡ ♡ ∧,,,∧ ♡ ( ̳♡ · ♡ ̳ ) ♡ ♡ ♡ / 𐭩♡ILYSM!!!
Please don't post gross/inappropriate things here, and please don't use curse words! >︿< There might be kids only trying to find emoji combos or decorations, or even simply older people who are triggered by this (like me) . Be kind to others, just like you should be to yourself!! Post this if possible, too :3 - Kiity x ℓυννѕ4мєℓ on yt
ִ ࣪𖤐ִ ࣪𖤐ִ ࣪𖤐
THIS WEBSITE NEEDS A REPORT BUTTON! 🔥🔥🔥💯 /ᐠ⎚-⎚マ repost ≽^-⩊-^≼ ^_^
yall fr cant go ten mins w/o making up stupid drama >_<!!
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

ヽ(*ˆᴗˆ)人(,,•ᴗ•,,)人(´◡`⑅)ノ
( ˶•o•˶) ( •ω• ) ( •⤙• ) ଘ(ა🧋) (ა🧋૮)。 (🧋٩ )੭
•𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑳𝑰𝑬😈🤬❌ •𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑻💔😭❌ •𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑮𝑬𝑻 𝑪𝑨𝑼𝑮𝑯𝑻👿 😾😡❌ •𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼'𝑳𝑳 𝑬𝑵𝑫 𝑼𝑷 𝑱𝑼𝑺𝑻 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑴𝑬🏳️‍🌈🔥🖤🌈😋
⎡some kaomojis for you :3⎦ ᖝ_ᖞ ⬯_⬯ ⬯ⲱ⬯ ꃼ꒢ꃼ ꒡꒢꒡ ⠈꒳⠁ ⠁꒳⠈ ⢀˽⡀ ・⩌・ ・⎵・ ꄱ_ꄱ *^ᗊ^* >ᴗ< ᯓ★ ( ≧ᗜ≦) ●﹏● ˙ᵕ˙ ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)  ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა (´。• ◡ •。`) ♡ (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა (๑>◡<๑) ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ◐ˍ◑ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˊᗜˋ
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
CATCH IN MY CHIP iii (Autistic author) They sit in silence for a few moments, Chip's screen glued to his dad's still form. The only sound is the steady rhythm of Plankton's shallow breathing. As the minutes tick by, Chip's thoughts swirl with confusion and guilt. He had no idea that his dad's quirks and sensitivities were part of something so complex. He'd just thought Plankton was easily annoyed or tired. Karen notices his son's distress and decides it's time to explain more. "You know how sometimes you get really excited about something, and you just can't keep it in?" she asks. Chip nods. "Yeah, like when I see a new toy or when I've got a great idea for a sandcastle." "Well, for Dad, it's like that all the time," Karen continues. "Every little thing can be a big deal, and sometimes it's just too much." She pauses, looking at Plankton with a mix of love and concern. "But he's also the smartest person I know, and he loves you so much. That's what's important." Chip nods, his eyes filling with tears as he watches his mom care for his dad. He'd always felt a bit left out, not understanding why Plankton would sometimes retreat from the world. But now he gets it. It's not that his dad didn't want to share in his excitement, it's just that sometimes, the world was too much for him. "Mom, I'm sorry," he whispers, his throat tight with emotion. "I didn't mean to make him... like this." Karen pulls him into a warm embrace. "You didn't do anything wrong, Chip. This isn't your fault. Dad's brain just works differently. And now that we know, we can help each other understand." Chip sniffles against her, his thoughts racing. "Does he know what's happening or can he understand us?" "Sometimes he can," Karen says, her voice low and soothing. "But right now, I don't think he realizes anything's happening around him." "What if he doesn't wake up?" The fear in his voice is palpable. "He will, honey," Karen says, her tone reassuring. "It just takes a little time. It's like when you're really tired and you need a nap. His brain needs to rest." The room is quiet except for the occasional sound of the air conditioner kicking in, a stark contrast to the excitement that had filled it just moments ago. Chip watches his dad, feeling a wave of emotion wash over him. He wants to laugh and share more stories, but he knows now that his dad's brain needs a break. As they wait, Karen starts to clean up the mess Chip made. The sand and papers scattered across the floor seem so trivial now, a stark reminder of the chaos his enthusiasm can create for his dad. He helps her, carefully picking up each piece, placing them back into their rightful spots. His mind is racing with thoughts of how to be a better son, how to make sure his dad doesn't feel like this again. They work in silence, the only sounds the rustling of papers and the occasional clank of a metal item being set back on the desk. The room slowly transforms back to its usual state of order, a stark contrast to the turmoil Plankton was experiencing. Chip's eyes never leave his dad, hoping to see any sign of improvement. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Plankton's eye blinks, and the tension in the room shifts. His breathing becomes deeper and more regular. Karen's shoulders relax as she sees the first signs of Plankton coming back to himself. She gives Chip's hand a gentle squeeze. "Look, honey. He's starting to come out of it." Chip stares, hope filling his chest. Plankton's antennas twitch slightly. He blinks a few more times, as if trying to bring the room into focus. "What... what happened?" His voice is weak, almost a whisper. Karen's grip tightens on Chip's hand. "You just needed a little break, sweetie," she says softly. "It's okay."
AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY iii (Autistic author) Karen picked him up, and carried his limp form to his bed. She stood there for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall. The snores grew quieter as sleep consumed him. The weight of what had just happened settled on her shoulders. Karen lay him down gently. She tucked him in, his antennae resting against the pillow. The room was quiet except for his soft snores, a stark contrast to the chaos that had filled it moments before. Karen sat by his side, her hand on his arm. After a few moments, she stood up and walked to the door, closing it gently behind her. She found Hanna in the living room, her eyes red-rimmed and worried. "Hanna, I need to talk to you," Karen said, her voice firm but not accusing. Hanna looked up, her expression hopeful for guidance. Karen sat beside her, her eyes on her own hands, which were fidgeting in her lap. "Plankton's been through a lot," she began, her voice measured. "He's different now." Hanna nodded, her eyes wide with unspoken questions. "Still coming to terms with it but you're just fine. It's a rarity, yet he'll be fine." "I guess I'll head out. I never meant to cause Plankton distress." Karen nodded, her eyes still on her fidgeting hands. "Thank you for understanding. I'm pretty sure he knows you didn't mean to, but I can still tell him when he wakes up." Hanna left, and Karen went back to the bedroom. Plankton was still asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful. Karen sat by the bed. Plankton's snores were the only sound in the room, a gentle reminder of the peace that sleep brought him from his tumultuous world of heightened senses. Karen took a deep breath, her thoughts racing. This was their new normal, a dance of understanding and patience they would have to learn. When Plankton next woke up, his eye searched the room, his antennae twitching slightly. He looked over to find Karen sitting in a chair beside the bed, her gaze on him. "Hi," she said, her voice gentle. He sat up slowly, the fabric of the bed rustling beneath his weight. "How are you feeling?" Karen's concern was palpable, her eyes scanning his face for any signs of distress. Plankton took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. Karen's presence was a balm to his soul, her understanding a lifeline in the storm of sensory input. "Where's Hanna?" Karen sighed, her gaze never leaving his face. "She left, sweetie. You were a bit...overwhelmed." Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with the memory of the sensory assault. "It's okay," Karen assured him, her voice a soft whisper. "She just didn't understand, and felt bad for the way she treated you." Plankton nodded, his antennae still. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos from before. He took a moment to collect himself, his thoughts racing. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. Karen reached out and took his hand, her grip firm but gentle. "You have nothing to apologize for," she said, her tone soothing. "This is all new to us. Would you like to eat?" Plankton nodded. "I'll get you something quiet and simple," Karen said, standing up. She knew that too much stimulation could send him spiraling. In the kitchen, she prepared a snack of plain crackers. She placed the plate on the table carefully, not wanting to startle his heightened senses again. Plankton entered the room, his movements deliberate and slow. He sat down across from her, his eye darting around the room. "It's ok," Karen reassured him, handing him the plate of crackers. "Just food." "Just food. It's ok; just food." He repeats back to himself, focusing on the plate. Each cracker was a tiny square of safety, a familiar comfort in a sea of sensory uncertainty. He took a deep breath and selected one. The taste was comforting, a reminder of a simpler time. Karen watched him, her screen filled with love. Plankton took a sip of water, his eye never leaving hers. "It's ok just food," he said again, his voice still low. "Karen good and good food. It's ok." Karen nodded, her smile a mix of relief and sadness. She knew his echolalic tendencies was the autism, but she's glad he likes the food as well. They sat in silence, the only sound the crunch of crackers and the occasional sip of water. Plankton's eye focused on the cracker in his hand, the patterns on the surface a comfort. His autistic brain craved the predictability, the sameness that calmed his nerves. This was the man she knew, yet he was different. The Plankton who was always plotting and scheming was now one who found comfort in the mundane. His mind felt clearer now, the overwhelming chaos of the earlier encounter with Hanna beginning to fade. Karen watched him, her heart breaking for the silent struggle she knew he faced every moment. "I'll talk to Hanna," she said gently. "I'll explain. What do you want me to tell her? What'd you like for her to know?" Plankton's gaze remained on the cracker, his thumb tracing the edge. "Tell her sorry," he mumbled. "What else? I mean, is it ok if I tell her you're autistic now? Or what about the accident that lead to the autism?" Plankton's antennae twitched at the word 'accident', his mind reeling with memories of the stove, the fight with Mr. Krabs, the pain. But he nodded slowly. "Ok," he murmured. Karen's heart ached at the simplicity of his response. The complexity of his thoughts was now a tightly guarded secret, hidden behind a wall of sensory overload. "Okay, I will," Karen said, her voice soft. "But remember, it's ok to be different." Plankton nodded, his eye still on his food. But as he took another cracker, he paused. He looked up, his gaze locking with hers. "Karen," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I, I l-love you." Karen's eyes widened at the sudden declaration. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you too." Plankton nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Karen making everything okay," he murmured. He took another cracker, his hands shaking slightly. "You make Plankton feel safe," he continues with sincerity. "In a world that's too much, Karen not too much." Karen's eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt words. She reached across the table and took his hand. "Plankton, I'm here for you. Always." Plankton's antennae stopped twitching. He looked into her screen, his own filled with a depth of emotion that hadn't seen before. "You good, Karen," he said, his voice steady. "Helping Plankton." Plankton was finding his way to express himself, to connect with her in a way that was meaningful. She squeezed his hand. "I'll always help you," she promised. "Karen," Plankton began, his voice tentative. He took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "I love you, Karen," he said finally, his eye intense with feeling. Karen swelled with love and pride. Despite his struggles, Plankton was learning to express his emotions in a way that made sense to him. It was a victory, small but significant. "Thank you, Plankton," she said, squeezing his hand. "Your love makes me happy." His antennae twitched slightly, a sign of his awkwardness with the emotional exchange. The room was quiet, the only noise the soft sound of their breathing and the occasional crunch of a cracker. Plankton's eye searched hers, looking for reassurance. "Plankton need...space," he managed, his voice shaky. "Too...much emotional interaction. Still love." Karen nodded, understanding dawning. "Okay, sweetie," she said, releasing his hand. "I'll be right here. Take all the time you need."
CHIP AND FAIL iii (Autistic author) "Ok Dad," he said. "Let's go to your workshop." Maybe there, he would be able to come back to himself. But Plankton's not budging, despite Chip's efforts to get him up. "Come on," he said, his voice gentle, trying to mask his own fear. "Let's go." But he sees it's not gonna work. He hadn't realized that his excited touches and loud laughter were only making things worse. Plankton's condition meant that even the smallest disruption could send him spiraling, and here Chip was, bombarding him with sensations. With a tremble in his voice, Chip tried one more time to reach his father. "Dad, can you just come with me?" He asked, his voice small and hopeful. "We'll talk in the workshop." But Plankton still didn't move, his eye fixed on some unseen horizon. Chip stood up, wiping the tears from his screen, trying to listen for his dad's breathing. Chip doesn't like this. Chip's face crumpled, realizing that his dad isn't okay. This was chilling. The more Chip talked, the more he touched, the deeper Plankton's mind spun into a vortex of overstimulation. "Dad, you're not talking," Chip whispered, his voice cracking with concern. He had never seen his father like this, so silent and still. He didn't know that the affectionate gestures and loud stories were only adding to Plankton's distress. "Dad, please," Chip said, his voice small. This wasn't right. This is wrong. Something is very wrong with his dad. Chip's eyes filled with tears, his mind racing with fear and confusion. Something's wrong with his dad. "Dad, you're not okay," Chip said, his voice filled with a new urgency. But now, he knew it was something more, something he didn't know how to fix. But he needs to try. "Can you tell me about your week too?" Absolutely no sign of life from him. This is bad. He's getting worse... Chip didn't know that Plankton's lack of response was due to his autism, that his sensory system was in overdrive. All he knew was that he needed to help, to do something. With a tremble in his hands, Chip gently touched Plankton's shoulder. "Dad, can you hear me?" He asked, his voice soft and soothing, hoping to cut through the storm in his father's mind. But Plankton's expression remained unchanged, his eye unfocused. Chip felt like he was shouting into a void, his words disappearing without a trace. The room was spinning, the air thinning with each shallow breath Plankton took. Chip's mind raced with scenarios, trying to piece together what could've caused this sudden change. "Is there something wrong?" He asked, his voice quavering. "Did something happen?" But Plankton was lost, the cacophony of Chip's excitement echoing through his overstimulated brain like a never- ending nightmare. Chip's touches grew gentler, his laughter fading into a soft concern. "I don't get it," he said, his voice thick with confusion. "I just wanted to tell you about my week." Plankton felt the pressure but his mind was a maelstrom of sensation. "Dad," Chip said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know what's going on." He nudged him, and he remained still and unblinking as the prod toppled him onto his side, with no reaction. The room felt colder, the air heavier with each passing second. He had never seen his father so unresponsive, so utterly lost to the world around him. "Dad," he tried again, his voice trembling. "You're scaring me." Plankton's eye remained fixed. The gentle touches from Chip were now a maelstrom of sensation, each one a wave crashing against the shore of his overwhelmed mind. Chip's smile faded as he watched his father. "Dad, you're not okay," he murmured, his voice laced with concern. He didn't know about Plankton's condition, how his brain processed stimuli differently, how easily it could be overwhelmed. All he knew was that his dad, the man he looked up to, was trapped in a silent prison of his own making.
petition to make this an app!! <33⩇⩇:⩇1 (spread and make it ⩇⩇:⩇2 and so on)
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A TOOTHY STORY pt. 3 Moments later, a groan escapes Plankton as he starts to stir, his eye fluttering open. "Hey, how's it going?" Karen asks him. "Mmm?" he mumbles, his voice thick as his eye flutters. "The surgery's over," she tells him, keeping her voice low and soothing. "We're just waiting for you to wake up properly before we go home." "Mmph," is all that comes out. Karen laughs gently, wiping his numb mouth. Plankton's eye blinks. "W-what?" He slurs. "You're okay," she repeats, smoothing his antennae. "You had your wisdom teeth out. They're all gone. You're in recovery." Plankton tries to speak. "Mmh... mmf... m-much?" Karen chuckles. "You'll feel better soon." Plankton's mouth feels like it's filled with wet cotton. He tries to form words, his tongue clumsy against the numbness. "Wh-wha?" Karen laughs gently, her screen sparkling with love and amusement. "You just had surgery." Plankton blinks, trying to focus. "Gah?" he attempts, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen laughs softly, her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, just take it easy." "Mmph... m-more?" Plankton slurs. Karen's eyes widen with surprise and laughter. "No, honey, all four are out. You're all done." "Mm-hmm?" He tries again, his voice a mere vibration in his throat. The nurse, Nina, smiles at him, her eyes crinkling with kindness. "You're doing great, Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle melody that seems to soothe his jumbled thoughts. "Just a little while longer and you'll be feeling more like yourself." He nods, his movements sluggish, his antennae flopping slightly. "Mmh... mmf," he mumbles again, his eye searching hers for clarity. Karen nods and smiles, understanding his unspoken question. "You're okay. The surgery went well. We just need to wait for the anesthesia to wear off." Karen leans in closer, her voice a lifeline in the sea of confusion. "You can't eat solids for a few days. But we've got plenty of smoothies and soups at home. You're going to love it." "K-Karen?" He croaks, his voice barely audible. She nods, smiling, her screen still filled with love and concern. "Wh-what... thine?" He slurs, his speech still slurred by the lingering effects of the anesthesia. Karen glances at the clock on the wall. "It's early," she says. "Don't worry about it." Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind grasping for coherence. "M-morning?" He mumbles, his eyes searching the room. The nurse, Nina, nods, her smile reassuring. "Yep, it's morning. The surgery's done. You're all set, Mr. Plankton." "I... I had... had... had surgery?" he asks, his speech still thick. Karen nods, her smile warm. "Yes, you did. Dr. Marlin said it went really well." "W-where's the... the... the...?" His words are slurred, and he can't quite remember what he was trying to ask. "Hmm?" He says, noticing Becky the receptionist. Karen nods. "The dentist took them out. Your mouth will feel a bit funny for a while, but it's all over." Plankton's eye widen in comprehension, and he attempts to smile, drool escaping his numb lips. "Mmph... m-mouth," he says, his voice a pitiful excuse for speech. Karen laughs, her worry melting into relief. "You're okay," she repeats. "Just give it some time. Your mouth will get back to normal soon." "Mmph... mmf... m-morning Becky," Plankton tries to greet the receptionist as she walks by, his voice barely a whisper. She laughs lightly, her cheerfulness a stark contrast to the post-surgery haze that hangs over him. "Good morning, Mr. Plankton. How are you feeling?" Becky's words float around him like bubbles in the sea, each one popping with a burst of understanding as his mind starts to clear. "Mmh... mm... m-morning," he mumbles. He tries to sit up straighter. Karen helps him, her movements quick and sure. "M-mouth..." Plankton's words are still slurred, but he's trying his best to communicate. The nurse, Nina, laughs gently. "Your mouth will feel funny for a bit," she says, "But it'll get better." Karen watches as Plankton's eyes try to focus on her. "Mmf... home?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. She nods, smiling. "As soon as you're ready to go." He nods, his antennae waving weakly. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals one more time before nodding to Becky, the receptionist. "Looks like he's coming around," Becky says, scribbling something on a clipboard. "You guys can go once you're ready."
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 3 Nina nods in approval, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she turns back to the monitors. "Just a few more minutes," she assures, adjusting the gauze in his mouth. The doctor speaks up. "Let's get him into recovery. We'll keep an eye on him there." Two burly starfish, who must be orderlies, come in with a wheelchair. They gently lift Plankton's slack body, transferring him from the surgical chair to the wheelchair. Karen watches as they wrap a comfortable blanket around him, tucking it under his chin. His head lolls to the side, his drool-slicked mouth open as he snores softly. Karen follows, her hand in his. The recovery room is quiet, dimly lit to reduce any stimulation that could cause discomfort. Plankton's snores fill the space, echoing off the walls. The nurse, Nina, checks his vital signs and nods to Karen. "You can stay with him. Just keep talking to him, it'll help him wake up." Karen takes a seat next to his chair, holding his hand. "Plankton, wake up," she says gently, but there's no response. She tries again, a little louder. "Wake up, it's time to go home." The nurse, Nina, smiles as she lifts him up from the wheelchair. They move him to the recovery bed, the soft pillows cradling his head. His eye remain closed, and his breathing is still slow and steady. Karen sits beside him, her heart racing. "You did it," she whispers, "You're so strong." Nina, the nurse, checks his monitors. "Looks good," she says. "Just a bit longer, and he'll be ready to wake up." Karen nods, stroking his hand. She looks at Plankton's face, serene in sleep, and whispers, "Wake up, sweetheart. We're almost done here." Still no response. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals one more time. "His body's just taking its time to metabolize the medication. Give him a moment." The room is quiet except for the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and the occasional snore from Plankton. Karen watches his chest rise and fall, his antennae twitching slightly. She squeezes his hand, willing him to wake up. The nurse, Nina, notices Karen's anxiety. "It's okay," she says, "Sometimes the anesthesia can take a little longer to wear off. He'll be fine. Just keep talking to him." Karen nods and leans closer, her voice a gentle hum. "We're almost there, Plankton," she says, her eyes never leaving his still form. She can see his chest rising and falling. The drool has slowed, yet his mouth is still open slightly. The nurse, Nina, checks the clock. "It's been about twenty minutes. He should start to come around now." Karen nods with a mixture of relief and anticipation. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispers, squeezing his hand a little tighter. The beeping of the heart monitor remains a steady metronome in the background, a comforting reminder that he's okay. Plankton's snores start to become less pronounced. A faint groan escapes him as his body starts to shift. Karen leans closer, her voice a soft chant of encouragement. "Wake up, honey, wake up." The nurse, Nina, nods in approval. "Good, keep it up. It'll help him wake up gently." Karen's voice is a soothing whisper in the quiet room. "Plankton," she repeats, "You're almost there. Time to wake up." His snores taper off, and his body starts to twitch slightly. Karen's eyes light up, hope flickering like the fluorescent lights above them. The nurse, Nina, watches the monitors intently. "Good, his body's starting to respond." Karen nods, her heart racing as Plankton's snores grow quieter. His eyelids flutter, and for a moment, she thinks he might be waking up. But his body relaxes again, and the snores resume, though softer. "Plankton," she calls out, her voice a gentle caress in the stillness of the room. "Wake up, love," she whispers, her voice a sweet song of comfort. The nurse, Nina, checks the monitors again, her expression calm. "It's okay," she assures Karen, "Sometimes the body needs more time to come out of the anesthesia." Karen nods, stroking his hand. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispers, her voice filled with gentle urgency. "We're all done here. Time to go home." His chest continues to rise and fall, his antennae still and his snores soft and steady. "You've got this, Plankton," she whispers. "Wake up." The nurse, Nina, watches the monitors closely, her fins poised. "He's waking up," Nina murmurs. Karen's glued to Plankton's face. His eye finally opens, but glazed over, unfocused. She squeezes his hand. "Plankton?" He blinks slowly, his antennae twitching as if trying to shake off the cobwebs of sleep. His mouth moves, but only garbled sounds come out. "Mmph... wha...?" he mumbles, his tongue thick in his mouth. Karen smiles, her heart swelling with relief. "You're okay," she says, wiping his drool with a tissue. Plankton's eye slowly focus on her, confusion swirling in their depths. "Wheh?" he slurs, his voice thick and sluggish. Nina, the nurse, chuckles softly. "It's the medication," she explains. "He'll be a bit out of it." Karen laughs lightly, her relief palpable. "It's okay, sweetheart," she says, her voice like a warm blanket. "You're at the dentist. You had your wisdom teeth removed." Plankton blinks again, his eyes focusing on her. "W-what?" he asks, his voice still slurred. Nina, the nurse, nods. "It's normal. The anesthesia can make you groggy." Karen smiles, her voice soft as a lullaby. "You had your wisdom teeth removed. Do you remember?" Plankton blinks again, his eyes finally focusing on her face. "T-teeth?" he mumbles, his mind swimming in the fog of the anesthesia. His mouth feels full, the gauze pressing against his numb gums like a soggy cotton ball. "Yes, your wisdom teeth," Karen says, her voice still soothing. "They're all out." Plankton's eye widen, and he tries to sit up, but the nurse, Nina, gently pushes his shoulders back down. "Easy, Mr. Plankton," she says. Karen laughs softly, her hand on his shoulder. "You're still woozy from the anesthesia." Plankton tries to speak, but it's as if his tongue is too large for his mouth. "W-wis...what?" Karen laughs, the sound musical in the quiet recovery room. "They took your wisdom teeth out, Plankton. Remember?" He blinks, his eye finally focusing on her. "Teef?" he slurs, his voice like a tired child's. The nurse, Nina, chuckles again. "It's okay," she says.
⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⣻⢿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⡿⣻⣟⡿⢯⣟⣯⢿⣹⣏⣿⡹⣏⢿⣹⡭⢯⡽⣭⣛⡼⢭⣛⠼⣙⣎⣳⡙⢮⡱⢫⡝⣜⢣⢏⢮⡱⡹⣌⡳⣍⢎⡳⡹⣌⡳⣭⠳⣍⡻⣜⣭⢫⡝⡮⢽⣩⢯⡽⣭⢯⡝⣯⢏⡿⣹⢏⣿⣹⢯⣟⡽⣯⣻⣽⣻⣽⣻⢟⣿⣻⣟⡿⣿⣻⡿⣿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣷⡿⣟⣯⡿⣽⣻⣽⣻⢷⣻⣞⡷⣯⣟⡷⣽⣞⣟⠾⣮⠷⣏⡾⢶⢯⡽⣎⢷⡹⢧⣳⢳⡜⢮⢳⡬⣛⡜⢦⢣⡝⢶⣩⠳⡜⡬⢓⡎⢶⠱⢳⢬⡱⢎⢮⡱⢳⣌⠳⣬⠳⣎⠵⡺⢴⢣⢻⡜⣳⢜⡳⣞⢼⣣⢟⡼⣏⠾⣭⢟⡶⢯⣞⠾⣵⡳⢯⣶⣳⢷⣫⣟⣾⢳⣯⣟⡷⣯⢿⣽⣻⢾⣟⣿⣽⣾⢿⣽⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⡷⣟⣯⡷⣟⡿⣽⡾⣽⢯⡷⢯⣟⣳⢾⣽⡳⡾⣭⣟⢾⣹⣭⢻⡝⣮⢳⡹⣎⡳⡝⢦⢧⡙⣏⠶⣱⠣⢞⣡⠳⣘⠖⣢⠝⡴⢡⠏⣜⢢⠛⣌⠦⡱⢎⠦⣙⠦⢎⠵⢢⡛⢴⢋⡵⢋⣎⠳⣜⡱⣎⡳⢎⡳⣎⢯⢞⣭⢻⡜⣯⢞⡳⣞⡻⣵⣛⡟⡶⡽⣞⣳⡽⣞⡿⣼⢏⡿⣽⣻⢾⡽⣯⣿⣞⣿⣾⢿⣯⣿⣟⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣽⡿⣽⣻⣽⣻⣽⣻⡽⣯⣟⣟⡾⣽⢳⡾⣝⢷⡳⣞⡽⣲⢭⡳⣝⠶⣫⢵⢪⠵⣙⡎⢶⡹⣌⠳⣌⢳⡡⢎⡱⢎⡜⢤⢋⡔⢣⠚⡤⢣⠹⡄⢧⡑⢎⡜⢤⢋⡜⢬⠣⡜⢢⢋⠴⣋⠴⣋⠶⡱⢎⡵⢫⡕⢮⣋⠾⡜⣧⢻⣜⡫⢷⣭⢳⢧⡻⣼⣹⢳⣏⡷⣝⣯⢾⡽⣯⣟⡷⣯⣟⣿⣳⡿⣞⣿⣾⢿⣻⣾⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⢯⣟⡷⣯⢷⣻⣞⣷⣻⢷⡾⣹⢾⡭⣟⢾⡭⣗⡻⣜⡳⣝⢮⢳⢭⡳⣓⡎⢧⡛⡴⣙⢦⡱⢎⠵⣊⢖⡱⢊⡔⢣⠜⣢⠣⡜⣡⢋⡔⢣⠓⡜⢢⠜⡢⢜⢢⠣⢜⢢⠓⣌⠳⣌⠲⣡⠓⡼⣘⡕⣫⢜⡣⢞⣣⠝⡮⣝⡲⢏⡶⣹⠧⣞⠽⣎⢷⣣⢏⡷⣞⡽⣺⡵⣯⢟⡾⣵⣻⢷⣻⣞⡷⣿⣻⣽⡾⣿⢿⣽⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⢯⡿⣽⢯⣟⣷⣻⢾⡽⡾⣽⣫⢷⣛⡞⣧⣛⢮⠷⣭⢳⡝⣎⠯⣖⢳⡱⢎⢧⡙⢶⣉⠦⣓⠮⡱⢎⢦⡑⡣⢜⣡⠚⡤⠓⡬⢄⢣⡘⢅⠚⣄⠣⠜⣠⠃⢎⡱⢊⠦⡙⡤⢓⡌⠳⣄⠫⡔⢣⡜⢆⡣⣝⠪⢖⡹⣜⠲⣍⡳⡹⢖⡻⣜⡻⡜⣧⣛⢮⡳⣝⢾⡱⣟⢮⢿⣹⢷⣫⣟⡷⣯⣟⡷⣯⣷⢿⣻⣯⣟⣿⣿⡿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣻⣽⢯⣟⣾⣳⢯⣟⡷⣻⢧⡟⣧⢯⣝⢮⡝⣮⢻⡜⡧⡽⣘⡳⢎⢧⡙⣎⠶⣙⠦⢣⢳⡘⡼⡑⢎⠦⡱⣉⠖⡤⢋⠴⠩⡔⢊⡔⠨⢌⠒⠤⢃⠚⠤⡉⠆⡔⠣⢌⡱⢈⠇⡜⡱⢌⠳⣌⠣⡜⢬⠱⢬⡙⡎⡵⢌⡳⢥⢳⡙⡮⢵⢫⡼⣙⠶⣭⠞⣵⢫⡞⣽⢺⣭⢯⣛⣾⢳⣯⣽⣳⢯⣟⣷⣻⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣾⣿⢿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⡽⣾⢯⣟⡾⣽⣛⣮⢟⣳⢯⡽⣳⢏⡞⣧⢻⡜⡧⢯⢵⡙⡶⣙⡎⢧⡹⡜⣎⢥⣋⢓⠦⣙⠴⣉⢎⠲⡱⠌⡎⡔⡉⢆⡓⢌⡡⢌⠱⡈⠜⡠⢃⠜⢢⠑⡌⠰⡁⢎⠰⡉⢆⠱⡘⡌⢣⢌⡓⢜⢢⡙⢦⠱⡓⣬⠣⣝⠪⢧⡹⣜⢣⢧⠳⣍⡻⢴⡻⣜⢧⡻⣜⠷⣎⠿⣼⢳⡟⣮⢷⢯⣟⣾⣳⢿⣽⣻⣾⢿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣾⣿ ⣿⡽⣯⣟⡾⣽⣳⢟⣮⢟⡽⣎⣷⣛⢮⡝⣮⢳⡽⣩⢗⢮⣙⢖⣣⠝⣦⢳⢩⣒⢣⡌⢧⣊⠕⣪⠔⣪⠑⢦⡙⡰⢌⠱⢢⠘⣄⠢⢡⢂⠱⡈⠔⡡⢊⠄⢣⢈⠱⢈⠆⡑⠰⡈⢆⠱⢌⢃⠦⡘⡌⢆⡙⢢⡙⠴⣡⠓⣬⢓⡣⡕⣎⠳⣎⠳⣎⠵⣣⠗⣮⢣⢟⡼⢻⡜⣯⢳⡯⣽⣛⣾⢻⣞⡷⣯⣟⡾⣷⡿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣾⢿⣿⣻⣽⣿ ⣟⡿⣧⣟⡿⣧⣟⡿⣜⡿⣼⢣⣜⡻⣜⡻⣜⢧⡜⢧⡜⢧⡜⢧⡘⢿⡠⢇⣇⡘⣇⡸⢃⡜⡸⣄⠻⣀⠟⡤⢠⢃⡜⠤⢃⠜⣀⠸⣀⠘⡄⢃⠜⡀⢃⠜⡀⠜⡀⠇⢠⠘⢣⠘⡄⠣⠜⡘⠤⢣⡘⡄⠻⢄⠻⣄⢃⠿⣀⠧⣸⠸⣘⢧⡘⢧⣘⢧⣃⠿⣠⠟⣼⡸⣇⢿⡸⣇⡿⣤⢿⣸⢿⣼⣻⢧⣟⡿⣧⣿⢿⣻⣿⣼⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣽⣳⢯⣟⡷⡽⣞⣽⢺⡵⣛⣮⠷⣭⢳⡭⡞⣼⢣⣛⡥⣛⢦⣋⢧⡱⢣⢆⠳⡌⠶⣉⠖⡱⢌⡓⣌⠚⢤⠃⠎⡄⠣⠌⢒⠠⡁⢂⠡⢘⢀⠊⠄⡃⡐⣈⠐⢡⠘⡄⠩⡐⢌⠰⡁⢎⠰⡑⢢⠑⡌⡱⢊⠲⢌⢎⠲⡡⢞⡡⢋⡜⣢⠝⢦⡙⢦⡙⢮⡱⣛⢦⢳⣙⢮⡳⣝⢾⡱⣯⢽⡞⣧⣟⣻⢾⣽⣳⣿⣻⣟⣿⡾⣿⣻⣷⣿⣷⣿ ⣿⢾⣽⣻⠾⣝⣯⢽⢮⢯⡗⣯⢞⡽⢎⡷⣹⣜⢣⡗⣜⡲⢭⢲⡱⢎⡒⡇⣎⢣⠝⣌⠣⢎⡱⢊⢴⣈⠳⠨⣌⠱⢈⠅⡊⠤⠡⠐⡡⢈⠂⠤⠉⡄⢡⠐⢠⠘⣀⠢⢈⠔⡁⠂⠥⡈⢄⠣⠘⡄⠣⡐⢡⢊⡱⢊⡔⢣⢱⣳⣬⢓⡼⢡⠞⣡⠛⢦⡙⢦⢳⡩⢎⢧⡹⢲⡝⣮⢳⣝⢮⢷⡻⡵⢯⣯⢟⣾⣳⣯⢿⣾⣯⡿⣟⣿⣿⣻⣾⣿ ⣿⣻⣞⣷⣻⡽⣞⣯⡞⣯⢞⡵⣫⢞⡽⣚⡵⢪⡳⡜⢮⡱⣋⠶⡱⣍⡚⢴⢊⡎⡜⢢⡙⢆⡱⢩⣿⣿⣎⡱⣀⠣⢌⠒⣀⠂⢅⡁⠆⡠⠉⠄⡑⠠⡁⠌⢂⠰⢀⢂⠡⠂⢌⠁⢆⡑⡈⠆⡱⢈⠡⢌⠡⢂⡑⢢⡘⢼⣿⣿⣿⡣⡜⣡⠞⣡⠛⡴⡙⢎⡥⢳⡍⢶⣩⢓⣞⡱⢏⡾⣹⢮⡽⣽⢻⣼⣻⣞⡷⣿⣻⡷⣯⢿⣿⢯⣿⣟⣿⣿ ⣿⣳⢯⡶⣏⡷⢯⣶⢻⣜⢯⡞⣵⢫⡞⡵⣭⢳⡱⡝⢦⠳⣍⠞⣱⢢⡙⢦⠣⡜⡸⢡⢚⡰⢌⠣⠿⣿⣿⡗⡄⢃⠆⡘⠠⢈⠤⠐⡠⠁⠌⡐⢀⠡⠐⠨⢀⠂⡁⠂⠄⡉⠄⠊⢄⠰⠈⡔⠠⠃⡌⢂⡑⠢⢌⠡⠜⣸⣿⣿⣿⢓⡱⢢⡙⡤⢛⠴⣉⠶⣉⠶⣙⢦⢣⢏⠶⣩⠯⣜⢧⡻⣜⢧⡟⣶⢻⣾⣽⣳⢿⣻⣽⢿⣯⣿⢷⡿⣿⣾ ⡿⣽⢯⣟⡽⣽⢻⡼⣏⡞⣧⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣖⡫⡵⣙⡎⠷⣌⡛⣤⠓⡜⢢⢣⠱⣡⠓⡬⢰⠈⢆⠣⣹⣿⡧⠘⡄⢒⠠⠑⠂⠄⠃⠄⣍⠐⡀⢂⠠⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⡈⠁⠆⣨⣷⡌⢡⠑⡨⢐⠨⡁⠎⢌⡱⢸⣿⣿⡑⠎⡔⢣⠜⡰⣉⠖⡱⣊⠜⠦⣍⠲⡍⣎⠳⣥⢛⣬⢳⡹⣎⢷⡹⣞⡽⣞⡷⣯⢿⣻⣽⢿⣞⣯⣿⣻⣿⣽ ⣿⣽⡻⡾⣽⢳⣯⡳⢯⣝⡞⣧⢻⣜⣣⢽⡸⣱⢣⠳⣜⠳⡬⣑⢆⠫⡜⡡⢎⡱⢂⠳⡈⢆⡉⢆⠱⠠⣿⣷⠡⠌⠄⢂⠡⢈⠂⢡⢈⣿⣶⠐⡀⢂⠡⠈⠄⡁⢂⠐⡀⠂⠄⡉⠄⣿⣿⡂⢡⠂⠡⠌⢂⠑⠌⢢⠐⣿⣿⡷⢘⡘⠬⣑⢪⡑⠦⡙⠴⣉⢎⠳⡌⢧⢹⡰⢫⡔⣫⢖⡫⢵⡹⣎⢷⡹⣞⣭⢟⣳⢿⣿⣻⢯⣿⣻⣞⣿⡷⣿ ⣟⡶⣿⡽⣳⡟⣶⢻⣝⢮⣝⢮⣳⢚⡼⣲⣙⢦⢫⡕⡎⢧⡱⣉⠮⡱⣘⠱⣊⠴⣉⠖⡡⢂⠜⢠⠊⢅⢻⣿⡌⠤⠉⠄⠂⠄⡈⠄⢂⣿⣿⡧⠐⠠⠀⠂⠠⠀⠄⠠⢀⠡⢀⠘⠎⣿⣿⡇⠂⡌⢡⢈⠂⡡⠌⢂⣹⣿⣿⢃⠇⣌⠓⡤⠣⢜⡡⣙⠲⡡⢎⡱⢊⡇⢮⡑⢧⢚⡥⢎⡝⢮⡵⢎⡷⣹⢞⡼⣏⣿⣹⢾⡽⣯⡷⣟⣯⡿⣟⣿ ⣿⣽⣳⢟⣳⢯⡽⣳⢏⣞⢮⣳⢣⢟⡲⢵⣊⢎⠧⡜⡼⣡⠞⣡⢣⠓⣌⠣⠜⠤⢃⡜⢠⠃⡘⠠⠌⠢⢹⣿⣿⠀⡉⠄⡁⢂⠐⠈⣰⣿⡟⠁⠄⠁⠐⠀⠁⠠⠐⠀⠠⠀⠂⠀⠂⢽⣿⡦⢉⠁⠢⢀⠒⠠⠈⢄⣿⣿⣏⠎⡘⢄⢣⠒⡍⢢⠱⢌⠣⡕⢮⡐⢫⠜⢦⡙⢎⡳⡜⣭⢚⡵⢎⡻⣜⢧⡻⣜⡯⢶⣯⢯⣟⣷⣻⢿⣽⣻⣿⣻ ⣿⣞⣭⢿⣹⢾⡹⢧⣻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣮⣙⠮⡜⣎⢧⣙⠲⣡⠞⣡⢎⠳⡌⣃⠎⡱⢁⠢⡁⢎⡐⢡⢈⠡⠌⣿⣿⠦⢁⠐⡀⠄⠈⡀⣾⣿⢁⠠⠈⠀⠂⠈⢀⠐⠀⠀⡁⠀⠄⠁⡀⢢⣿⣷⠈⢃⣐⣮⣄⢃⠡⣼⣿⡿⣬⢂⠍⢢⠘⡰⢉⠆⣍⠪⡱⡘⢆⡙⢦⡙⢦⡙⢎⡱⣙⢦⢫⣜⢫⡵⢫⡞⣵⢫⣽⡳⣟⣯⢾⣯⣟⡿⣞⣯⣷⣿ ⣷⣻⢞⣯⡽⣞⡽⣳⢧⢻⡜⡧⣝⠦⡝⢮⡱⢎⠶⣡⢋⡴⣉⠖⣌⠣⡜⠤⠓⡄⢃⠆⠱⠠⠈⠄⢂⠐⠂⣽⣿⣧⡉⣤⣴⡄⠣⢠⣿⣿⢀⠠⠀⠂⠁⠀⠂⠀⠄⠀⠄⠀⠂⠀⠐⠀⣿⣿⡎⠠⣿⣿⣿⣷⢠⣿⣿⡗⠃⢌⡘⠄⢣⠐⡡⢊⠴⢡⡑⠜⢢⡉⢦⠙⢦⡙⡎⡵⣉⢎⡳⢬⣳⢚⣧⢻⡜⣯⡖⣿⣹⢞⡿⣾⣽⣻⡽⣯⣷⣿ ⣯⢯⣟⡮⣗⢯⡞⣵⢫⡗⣭⢳⢎⣝⠺⣥⢛⡬⠳⣌⢣⠒⡥⢚⠤⡓⢌⠣⡉⠔⡨⢐⢁⠢⠑⡈⠄⡈⠔⣸⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⠀⣼⣿⡏⣚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢻⣿⣇⠡⣿⣿⣿⣿⢼⣿⣿⢂⠍⡐⡐⢌⢂⠱⢠⠉⠦⣁⠎⣍⢢⡉⢦⠙⢦⠱⣉⠖⣭⢪⡕⢧⣣⢟⡲⢏⡾⣱⢻⣼⢳⣯⣟⡷⣽⣳⣟⣯⣷⢿ ⣯⣟⣮⢷⣛⣮⠽⣎⢷⡹⢎⡳⢞⡬⢳⣌⢳⠸⣱⠸⡌⠳⣌⢣⠚⡄⣋⠔⡡⠊⠔⡈⠄⠢⢁⡐⠠⠐⠠⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⣿⣿⠋⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠸⣿⣿⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⠀⢂⠔⡈⠄⡈⠆⢂⠩⡐⠢⠜⡠⢆⠹⡄⣋⠆⢧⣉⠞⣔⢣⢞⡱⢞⡼⢭⡻⣜⢧⣛⣮⢟⡶⣏⣿⣳⣟⡾⣽⡾⣿ ⣷⣻⣼⢳⣏⡾⣝⢮⡳⣝⣫⠵⣫⢜⡣⢎⡣⢏⡔⢣⡜⡱⢂⢆⠣⠜⣠⠊⡄⢃⠡⡐⠌⢂⠡⢀⠐⠀⣔⠠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠏⠴⣰⣶⣾⣶⡈⠤⠑⡨⢑⡘⠤⣉⠦⠱⣌⢚⠲⣌⢚⡬⡓⢮⡙⡞⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣮⡟⣽⡽⣞⣧⢿⡽⣯⢿⣽ ⣷⣻⡼⣏⡾⣵⢫⡞⣵⢫⠶⣹⢆⠯⡜⣣⠕⡎⡜⣡⠒⠥⢋⠤⢋⡔⠢⡑⢨⠠⢁⠐⡈⠄⠂⠄⠂⠁⠘⡆⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢆⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢓⠈⠄⣿⡏⢹⣿⡏⠄⢃⠔⡡⢘⠤⢃⡜⢡⠆⣍⠲⡜⡌⠶⣙⢦⡹⣱⢣⢯⡜⣧⢻⡼⣳⢯⣗⣻⡽⣞⣯⢿⡽⣟⣿ ⣯⢷⣻⢼⣳⢭⡳⣝⢮⣛⡼⢣⢞⡱⡹⢤⠛⡴⡑⢢⡙⣌⣃⠎⢥⠨⣑⣌⣂⢂⠡⢊⠐⣈⠐⡀⢂⠁⠂⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢲⡀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠠⠈⡀⣿⡇⢸⣿⡇⣌⠂⡜⢠⠃⡜⠢⢌⠣⠜⡤⢛⡰⣉⠧⣃⢮⡱⢣⢏⡶⣹⢎⡷⣹⢧⡟⣞⣳⢯⣟⡾⣯⣟⡿⣽ ⣯⣟⢾⣣⡟⣾⡹⣎⠷⡳⣜⢫⢎⡵⢓⠬⡓⠴⣉⠦⡑⢆⣾⣿⣿⣷⣶⣴⣾⣿⣷⣷⣾⣷⣿⣶⣾⣾⣷⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⡗⢸⣿⣷⣶⣦⠉⣴⣶⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣷⣷⣶⣶⣷⣶⣶⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢢⣷⣷⣿⡇⢸⣿⣷⣾⣿⣾⣶⣿⣾⣷⣾⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣷⣿⣔⣣⡙⢧⣚⡼⡱⣏⢾⡱⣯⠾⣽⣹⣻⢾⣽⣳⢿⣽⢿ ⣷⢯⣟⣮⠽⣶⡹⣎⢿⡱⣭⢓⡮⡜⣭⠲⡙⢦⡑⢲⣍⣿⡿⢁⣦⣌⣻⣿⠏⣴⣤⠙⣿⡇⢸⣿⡯⢘⣿⠁⣰⣦⡈⢿⡏⢠⣤⣤⣿⡗⠀⢿⣿⠀⣿⣿⠀⣿⡟⣡⣦⡌⢻⣏⢸⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢨⣶⡄⢻⣿⡂⣿⡟⢡⣬⡅⢸⣿⣏⣰⣦⡘⢿⡧⢘⣿⣿⠰⣿⠋⣴⣦⣈⣿⣿⣦⡙⢦⣓⠞⣵⢫⣞⡳⣭⢟⣧⢿⣱⢿⡾⣽⣻⡾⣿ ⣿⣻⡼⢧⡟⡶⣝⢮⡳⣝⣲⢹⢲⡹⢤⣋⠵⢢⡙⠦⣸⣿⡇⢸⣿⡟⣿⣿⠈⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢸⣿⣏⠘⣿⡀⢿⣿⡇⢺⡧⢸⣿⣏⣭⣤⡀⣻⣿⠀⣿⣿⠀⣿⡃⢽⣿⡇⢸⣏⢰⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢺⣿⣷⣾⣿⢃⣿⡇⢹⣿⡇⢸⣿⡟⢋⣛⠁⢺⡗⢨⣿⣟⠸⣿⣧⡘⠻⣿⣿⣟⠴⣙⠶⣩⢻⡜⣳⢎⡷⣹⢾⣹⠾⣽⣫⣟⣷⣻⣽⢿ ⣯⣟⢷⣞⣳⣳⠽⣎⢷⡹⣙⡎⣎⠳⣬⠹⣐⢎⡱⢆⣹⣿⡇⢸⣿⣷⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢸⣿⣏⠰⣿⡁⢾⣿⡇⢺⣇⢸⣿⣿⠿⣿⡇⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⣺⣿⡇⢸⣟⢘⣿⣿⠀⣿⠇⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⠈⣿⡇⢼⣿⡇⢸⣿⠁⣾⣿⡄⢺⣇⢸⣿⡿⢰⣿⣿⣷⣦⡙⢿⣿⣔⠫⣖⢫⡎⡗⢯⡞⣵⢫⠾⣽⠶⣯⢿⡽⣯⢿⣽⣾ ⣿⣞⣯⠾⡵⣏⢿⡜⣧⢯⡱⢮⡍⠷⣌⠳⡥⢊⡔⢣⠜⣿⣷⣌⠛⣉⣼⣿⣦⡙⢋⣠⣿⣷⡈⢛⣁⢘⣿⡀⣿⣿⡇⣸⣿⣈⠛⣃⣸⣿⠇⢺⣿⣄⠙⣋⠀⣿⣷⣈⠛⣡⣿⣿⣀⠛⣃⣀⣿⡇⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⢠⢿⣧⡈⢛⣁⢸⣿⣆⠙⣋⡀⣺⣿⡀⢙⡃⢨⣿⣆⡙⠛⣁⣿⣿⣌⠳⣬⢓⡞⣹⢇⡻⣜⢯⣛⣾⣻⣭⢿⡽⣯⢿⣾⣽ ⣿⢾⣭⠿⣝⡾⣹⢞⡵⢮⣱⢓⡞⡹⣌⠧⣃⠏⡜⡡⢎⢍⠻⠿⠿⠿⠛⡉⠟⠿⠿⠟⢋⠹⠿⠿⠻⠿⠻⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⡟⠻⠿⠟⠋⠙⠿⠿⠻⠟⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡌⠉⠙⠿⠿⠻⠿⠛⠻⠿⠟⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠐⣿⡿⠿⠿⢿⡛⢧⣘⠳⣌⠯⣜⢳⢎⡷⣹⢞⡽⣺⡷⣏⡿⣽⢯⣿⢾⣽ ⡿⣯⣞⡿⣹⡞⣵⢫⣞⡳⣬⢏⣜⠳⣌⢧⠱⣊⠵⡑⢎⡌⠥⢃⡱⢈⠥⠘⡐⢂⠰⢀⠂⠠⢀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⡟⠆⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡀⠿⠟⢀⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠆⣽⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⡧⡄⠀⠠⠀⡀⠄⠠⢁⠐⡈⠄⣿⣯⠈⠿⠛⢰⣿⡟⡰⣉⠦⡙⢆⢎⡳⢬⠳⣍⠾⣹⡜⣧⣛⠾⣵⡿⣽⣻⣽⣻⢾⡿⣽ ⣿⣳⡽⣽⡳⣏⡷⣫⢞⡵⣳⠺⣜⡹⡜⡬⢣⡕⢪⡑⢎⡔⠣⢌⡰⢁⠆⠱⣠⠁⠆⡠⠈⠄⠠⠐⡀⡐⠀⠀⢬⣿⣿⣾⣻⣞⣧⠳⡄⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣶⣶⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⡗⠄⠐⠀⠠⠐⠠⢁⠂⡐⠀⠆⠸⠿⣿⣶⣶⡿⢟⡡⡑⢎⠲⣉⢎⢮⡱⣋⠗⡮⣝⢶⡹⢶⣭⢻⢧⣟⣷⣻⢾⡽⣯⣿⣻ ⣟⣷⣻⡳⣟⣭⢷⣫⢞⡵⣫⡝⢶⡹⣜⡱⢣⢎⡱⡘⠦⡌⢓⠬⡐⠥⢊⠥⡀⠜⠠⠄⠡⢈⠐⠀⠄⠁⠀⢌⣿⣿⣿⣳⣟⣾⢻⡇⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣇⡀⠀⠌⠀⡁⠌⠄⡂⢡⠁⢊⠁⠆⡌⡑⢢⠑⣊⠔⡩⢌⡣⢍⡎⢶⡱⢭⠺⡵⣭⢺⢭⣳⢎⣿⣹⣞⡾⣽⢯⣟⣯⣷⢿ ⣿⣞⣷⣻⡽⣞⣳⣏⢾⡱⢧⢏⣧⠳⣌⠳⣍⠶⣡⠝⢦⡙⡌⢆⡱⢌⠂⢆⢡⠘⠠⠌⡐⠠⠀⠌⠐⠀⡁⣾⣿⣿⡿⣽⣞⡷⣛⢳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡽⣿⣻⣿⣯⠳⠄⠐⠠⠐⢈⠐⡀⢆⢈⠂⡉⠒⠤⣉⠆⣍⠢⢎⡱⢊⡜⡱⢎⢧⣙⢮⡛⡵⣎⡟⣮⢳⣏⣶⢻⡾⣽⢯⣟⣾⣟⣾⣿ ⣿⣞⡷⣯⡽⣏⡷⣞⢯⡽⣹⢎⡶⣹⡜⣹⠜⣜⠦⣙⠦⡱⣘⠢⡜⣠⠋⡔⢂⡉⡐⠤⢀⠡⢈⠐⠀⠂⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⢾⡽⣹⣺⡍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢈⠠⠐⢀⠂⠰⢀⠂⠤⡑⠌⣑⠲⠄⡎⢤⢋⠴⣡⠫⢴⢹⡘⢦⣋⢶⡹⣓⢮⡝⣮⢗⣾⣚⣯⢷⣯⣟⣾⣽⣾⢿⣾ ⣿⢾⣽⣳⢿⣽⡻⣽⡞⣵⣛⢮⡳⡵⣚⠵⣫⢜⠳⣌⢖⡱⢂⢇⡒⢡⠊⡔⢡⠐⠌⡐⠠⠂⠄⡈⠄⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣟⢿⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣏⡀⠄⠌⠠⠌⣁⠢⠌⠒⡄⠣⢄⠣⡜⡘⢦⡉⢖⣡⠛⣆⢧⡹⢲⣍⢶⡹⣝⢮⡽⣚⣯⢶⣻⣞⢿⡾⣽⣞⡷⣿⣻⣿ ⣿⣻⢾⣽⣻⢾⣽⣳⡽⣣⢯⣳⡝⣧⢻⡼⣱⢎⡳⣜⢢⡱⣉⢦⡉⢆⢣⠘⡤⢉⠒⡈⠤⢁⠂⡐⠈⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣞⣟⠢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠑⠠⢈⡐⢄⢂⠢⢌⠱⣈⠱⡈⢖⡡⢚⠤⡙⢦⣌⠳⡜⢦⡙⡧⢞⣮⢳⡝⣮⢗⣻⡼⣳⣻⢞⣯⣟⡷⣯⣿⣟⣿⣽ ⣿⣟⣯⣷⣻⣟⣮⢷⣻⢽⡳⢧⣻⡜⣧⢳⣓⢮⡱⢎⣱⢲⡡⢆⡹⢌⠢⣍⠰⡁⢎⠰⣁⠢⠐⠠⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠐⡘⣿⣾⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢸⣿⣿⣿⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⡁⢂⠰⢀⢂⠒⡌⠒⡄⢣⣉⡒⣌⠣⢎⡙⢶⢨⢳⣙⠮⡵⣋⠷⣎⡷⣫⣗⢯⡷⣽⣳⢯⣟⡾⣽⣻⡷⣿⣾⢿⣿ ⣿⣻⣽⡾⣷⣻⣞⣯⣟⡾⣽⣫⢷⣹⢞⡧⣏⢮⡱⢏⢦⠳⣌⠳⡜⣌⠣⡔⢣⢉⢆⠱⡀⢆⠩⢄⣻⣿⣿⣿⠃⢀⠂⢀⣹⣷⣻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢸⣿⢿⣿⡁⢾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⠂⡅⢊⠄⠣⢌⠱⠌⣅⠦⡱⢌⡙⢦⡙⣎⢧⡓⢮⡝⡞⣭⣻⢼⡳⣏⡾⣯⣽⣳⢯⣟⣾⣻⣽⣷⢿⣿⣽⡿⣿ ⣿⣟⣯⣿⢷⣯⣟⣾⣳⣟⣧⣟⣮⢗⡯⣞⡼⣣⢯⣙⡎⠷⣌⡳⣱⢊⠵⣈⠇⡎⣌⠲⣁⠎⡐⣢⣿⣿⣿⠃⡐⠀⠠⠀⠸⣷⣹⡇⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⠰⣈⣿⣿⣿⣿⡐⠣⡘⠤⢊⣑⢊⡌⠳⢌⣒⢣⣍⠎⣧⡙⢦⣇⢯⠳⣞⡽⣲⡝⣾⣹⣳⣻⢧⡷⣯⣟⣾⣽⣯⣷⣿⣻⣯⣿⢿⣿ ⣿⡿⣯⣿⣟⣾⣽⣞⣷⣻⣞⣧⣟⣯⢾⡵⣫⣓⢧⠯⣜⡏⢶⡱⣍⢎⠮⣑⠎⡴⣈⠖⡰⣈⣶⣿⣿⣿⠏⡐⠀⠌⠀⡈⠀⣿⠵⣿⠐⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⡧⢀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣧⠡⡑⢌⡒⢌⡒⣌⠳⣌⢦⢣⢎⡝⢦⡹⢣⣎⠷⣻⣜⡳⢧⣻⣵⣳⢯⡷⣯⣟⣷⣻⢾⣷⣻⣷⣟⣿⣽⡿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣟⣷⢿⣻⣾⡽⣞⣷⣻⣞⡷⣞⣯⡞⣷⡹⣎⠿⣜⣚⢧⠳⡜⣎⢳⣌⠳⣘⠤⣋⠔⣶⣿⣿⣿⠟⢠⠀⠥⡐⠀⠢⠁⢸⣟⣯⠠⠌⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢜⣿⣿⠡⠐⡠⠑⠤⢿⣿⣿⡇⠜⡤⢙⢢⠱⣌⠳⡘⢦⣋⠾⣜⣣⣝⡳⣎⢿⡱⣞⣽⢫⡷⣞⣽⣳⣟⣷⣻⢾⣽⢿⣞⣿⡷⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣾⢿⣻⣟⣾⣟⣯⣷⣟⡾⣽⣻⢶⣻⢧⣟⡭⣟⡼⣳⢎⡟⣱⢎⠧⣎⢳⣉⠶⡡⣾⣿⣿⣿⠧⡘⠄⡌⠐⠠⠈⡄⠐⠀⢻⣞⣷⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠈⢼⣿⣿⢃⠡⡐⠉⡄⢻⣿⣿⣧⠙⡴⣉⠦⣓⢬⣋⢭⠳⣌⠷⣜⢦⡳⣝⢮⣳⠽⣞⠾⣽⣳⣟⣾⣳⣟⡾⣽⣟⣯⣿⣻⣽⡿⣿⣽⣷⣿⣿⢿ ⣿⣿⣾⣿⣻⣽⡿⣾⣟⣾⡽⣟⡷⣯⣟⣷⣻⢮⡽⣞⡵⣫⢞⡽⣜⢮⡝⣬⠳⣜⢲⣱⣿⣿⣿⡟⣠⠱⡈⠤⢉⡐⠡⢀⠂⢁⠸⣿⣺⡇⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠁⠄⣻⣿⡿⠆⡡⢌⠱⣈⡒⢿⣿⣿⡘⡴⣡⢳⣉⠦⡝⣎⡻⣼⠹⣎⢷⡹⢮⣳⢏⡿⣭⣟⣷⣛⣾⣳⣟⣾⣟⣯⣿⢯⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣯⣿⡿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣾⣷⣿⣻⣽⣿⣽⣯⣿⢿⡽⣷⣻⣞⡷⣯⣟⢾⣹⢧⣻⢼⡹⣎⠾⣥⣛⢬⣣⣿⣿⡿⢣⠜⣄⢣⠘⡰⢡⠠⣁⠢⠈⠄⢂⢹⡷⣷⠀⢬⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⠀⠄⠡⠂⣽⣿⡗⠬⣐⢊⠴⡡⢍⠻⣿⣿⡱⢣⠞⢦⣙⠮⡵⢣⣟⡲⢯⣝⣮⢟⣯⣳⢯⣟⡷⣯⢾⣽⣳⢿⣞⡿⣾⣟⣾⡿⣯⣿⣟⣯⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⣿⣽⣿⢻⣷⣿⢳⣿⣯⣿⣷⢻⣾⣽⢳⡞⣯⡟⣾⣭⣷⢻⡜⢻⣦⡝⣶⣿⣿⣿⢱⠋⡜⢰⠊⣥⠑⢢⠑⡄⠂⢡⠈⡄⠂⢻⣽⣦⠀⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢠⠈⢰⠁⠑⣾⣿⢣⠒⣥⠊⣶⠙⣬⠓⣿⣿⡏⣧⠛⣼⡌⣿⢸⢳⣮⡝⢳⣾⡜⣿⢲⣯⡟⣾⣽⣯⡟⣾⣽⣯⡟⣿⡟⣾⣿⢻⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣽⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣽⡿⣟⣯⣿⣯⣿⢿⣻⣾⣟⣾⣟⡾⣽⢯⡿⣽⡽⣳⢯⡞⣧⢟⡳⣎⢷⣳⣿⣿⢣⢏⡚⣥⢋⠼⣠⠛⡄⢣⠘⠌⡄⢂⠐⡀⢊⡿⣯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠐⠠⢁⠢⢘⠠⢌⡑⣾⣿⢎⡒⢥⡚⣤⠳⣱⢚⠼⣿⣿⢬⣳⢣⢟⡼⣹⢞⡼⣹⣏⣶⢻⣳⣟⡾⣽⣳⣟⡾⣽⣻⢷⣟⣿⣽⡿⣟⣯⣿⣟⣿⣷⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⢿⣯⣷⣿⢿⣻⣷⢿⣳⡿⣽⣯⢿⣽⣳⠿⣽⣳⡟⣽⡞⣽⣎⣷⣿⣿⡟⣎⢮⡱⢎⡝⡲⢡⠓⡜⠤⣉⠒⡌⢄⠒⡀⠆⣿⢿⡇⠀⠄⠀⠀⡀⠠⠐⠠⢈⡐⠤⠘⡠⢊⠔⡰⢿⣿⢆⣍⠲⣍⠶⣙⢦⣋⢞⣿⣿⣧⢳⣏⢾⡱⣏⡾⣝⣳⢾⣹⢯⡷⣯⣟⣷⣻⢾⣟⣿⡽⣿⢯⣿⣾⢿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⢿⣾⣿⢿⣽⣾⣿⢿⣽⣿⣻⣽⣟⣾⣟⡾⣽⣻⢷⣯⢟⣳⢿⣱⢾⣿⣿⣿⡹⣜⠶⣙⢮⡜⣭⢣⢏⡜⡱⢌⠒⡌⢢⢁⠳⢠⠹⠿⣿⡆⠐⡈⠐⡀⠄⡙⠢⡐⢄⠒⣡⠑⡪⣌⠱⣿⣿⣧⢪⡕⣎⠳⣍⢶⣩⠞⣿⣿⣷⣫⢞⣧⢻⣝⡾⣝⣯⢿⡽⣯⣟⣷⣻⣞⣿⣻⢾⣯⣿⣟⣿⣻⣾⣿⣯⣿⡿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣻⣾⢿⣽⣾⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣹⢿⣿⡳⣝⢮⣛⡭⢶⡙⢦⡓⡎⣖⠩⢎⡱⠌⣅⢊⠴⡁⢎⠱⣿⣿⣖⣄⣡⠐⣈⣿⠿⣿⣦⡙⠤⣩⠱⢌⠳⣿⡿⣱⢣⠞⣥⡛⣼⢣⡞⣽⢺⣿⣿⢧⣟⣮⢟⡾⣽⣛⡾⣯⣟⣷⣻⣞⡷⣯⣷⢿⣯⣷⢿⣾⣟⣿⣽⣾⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣮⣳⣝⣶⣹⣧⣹⣜⣬⣛⡔⣣⢋⡴⣉⠦⣑⢊⠴⣸⣿⢺⣝⣻⣷⣾⢯⡻⣵⢻⢿⣦⣅⠫⣌⠳⣿⣱⢣⣏⠞⣥⣛⢶⣫⢞⡵⣻⣿⣿⣻⣞⡾⢯⣟⡷⣯⣟⣷⣻⢾⣷⣻⣟⣿⣽⣿⣻⣾⡿⣿⣾⣿⢿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣭⣿⣶⣭⣾⣬⣛⣾⡻⣜⡳⣎⣭⣼⣭⣏⢷⣭⡟⣮⣳⢟⣿⣶⣿⣿⣷⢯⣟⡿⣶⣯⣿⢾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣿⣾⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣾⣷⣻⣞⣷⣻⢾⡽⣯⣳⣻⣭⢷⣯⣽⣦⣿⡼⣯⢶⣻⣵⣫⣟⡾⣽⣞⣷⣯⣿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⡿⢿⡟⣿⢻⣟⣯⢿⡽⣯⡟⣽⢫⢯⡙⡏⢯⡙⢏⡛⠝⡛⠛⠙⠋⠛⢛⡛⢟⡛⣛⢳⠻⣟⡿⢿⠿⣟⣿⡻⣟⣯⣟⡿⣞⡿⣽⢻⣞⣻⢻⡻⣟⢯⠿⣽⢾⣟⣿⣻⣽⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣽⣷⣿⣮⣿⣶⣽⣼⣶⣭⣦⣵⣬⣴⣤⣬⣤⣬⣤⣽⣦⣵⣧⣮⣷⣽⢾⣯⣿⡽⣶⢿⣹⣞⡾⣽⡽⣞⡵⣛⢦⠳⣍⡳⢾⢫⡛⡼⢳⡞⣷⢿⡾⣟⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
SLAY💅🏻💅🏻(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡I love toes🦶🏻૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr!UwU🥺👉👈
Imagine if batman pulls down the riddlers pants, and finds yet another riddle written in fine print on his cock. "Solve the riddle, and I am yours." he says, and then it reads: I start with a breath, but I am not a sigh, I can make you feel good without asking why. I am sometimes given, sometimes earned, and leave a smile when it's returned. What am I? and then batman goes, "A blowjob, master" and then riddler goes "very good batboy, now use that mouth of yours and clean this dick." and then batman shlobs his knob while the riddler holds him by the bat ears.

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

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i am the globglogablab 🔥🔥🔥🔥the shwabbledabblewablegabblefilbberblabbablub 🗣️🗣️im full of shwibble glibber kind 🫨🫨🫨🫨i am the yeast of thoughts and minds 🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥
⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⢸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⣾⣿⡆⠀ ⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⢰⣿⡆⠀⣾⣿⡆⠀⣾⣷ ⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⠘⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣤⣿⡇⢻⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢸⡿⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⢸⣿⣇⠀⢀⣿⣿⠇⠀ ⠙⢿⣷⣶⣶⡿⠁⠀⠈⣿⣿⠟⠀⣿⣿⠇⠀⠈⠻⣿⣶⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀
mom leave me alone I wanna be FAMOUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈UwU🥺👉👈
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Hey, Pookie, your my little Pookie. I would DIE for you, Pookie. Im turning into the alpha for you, Pookie. RAWR!!! 🐺🐺❤️ 👅
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ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ ⭑⚝. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ꧁Username's Info꧂ ꡴Age : ✧Pronouns : ✪ Gender : ⁺₊ Disorders : ⋆☾⋆ Likes : ❀ Dislikes : ✩ More info : ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐
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⠀ (\ __ /) (UwU) _ノ ヽ ノ\_ / `/ ⌒Y⌒ Y  \ (  (三ヽ人  /   | | ノ⌒\  ̄ ̄ヽ  ノ ヽ___>、__/ |( 王 ノ〈 /ミ`ー―彡\ |╰ ❨ ╯| | /\ | | / \ | | / \ |
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣗⣲⢮⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⣾⣿⡿⠶⠤⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⡴⠒⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢯⣉⣿⠷⠋⠉⠈⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠉⠀⠉⠓⢼⣀⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠧⢹⠀⠀⣀⣴⣴⠂⠤⢄⣰⡦⢄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡆⠱⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣤⠇⠀⠘⣦⠞⣱⢻⠌⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⠦⣄⠀⠀⢀⢻⣰⡼⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀i kill teagan bcuz I hate dandy's world⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⣇⠀⠸⡤⢇⢸⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠼⢿⣸⠿⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀i hate the game they kick me out⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠘⢮⡿⠷⠛⠀⠀⠀⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣰⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀so I KILL teagan⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠤⣀⡀⠐⠤⣄⣙⡆⠀⣀⡤⠺⠵⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀im so uwu unicorn my new tag is⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⣩⠉⢩⠁⠀⢀⡠⠦⠒⠒⠒⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀emilyunicorn⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⡈⠉⠢⢄⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠤⢴⣃⣀⠈⣆⡴⢏⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠈⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❌dandysworld❌dandysworld⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢦⡀⠀⠉⢲⡞⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⡠⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠦⣀⣀⣧⣀⡠⢄⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠢⠤⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠊⠙⢯⠉⠉⡍⠒⠲⠤⣀⡈⠉⠉⠒⠦⠤⣀⡀⠀❌dandysworld ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢦⡀⠈⢷⢼⣿⡒⠤⠖⠚⠙⣕⣲⡆⠤⠤⠤⣽⠄ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣠⠴⠊⠙⠒⠲⠤⠖⠒⠒⠒⠒⠊⠀⠀⠉⢢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠛⡏⠉⠻⡦⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠙⠒⣲⠞⠉⠀❌dandysworld ⠀⡴⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣆⡠⠒⢦⢐⣹⣩⠷⢒⠋⣀⡀⠀⠀ ⠈⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠛⠼⠹⠷⠿⡿⠷⢾⣟⣋⡹⣥⣉⡿⠀ ⠀⠀⠉⠢⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣙⣄⡀⠀⠀⢹⣷⡤⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠒⠒⠠⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⠤⠀⠐⠒⠒⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠢⣍⢉⢶⠚⠳⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠈⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢴⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢷⠒⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣎⣡⢞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢫⣦⣄⣽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° i shoot u >:( ૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶꒱ა ./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.~♡︎ with love tho
ε(´。•᎑•`)っ 💕⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
<3🌺( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )🫰🏿
。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。 。・:*˚:✧。 ✨ i have explosive diarrhea ✨。・:*˚:✧。 。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。
( ˶°ㅁ°) !! °⋆.ೃ࿔*:・☁️(˶˃⤙˂˶)˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖(„• ֊ •„)੭
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