2.3 Emojis & Text

🌈,🌈,🌈,

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 1 (Autistic author) It happened, during another failed attempt at the krabby patty formula. Plankton tried sneaking through the back when Mr. Krabs saw him. "You again!" Mr. Krabs roared, his eyes bulging like a pair of boiled eggs about to pop. "You're not getting it, I'll make sure of that!" With that, Mr. Krabs swung a nearby frying pan with such ferocity that even SpongeBob flinched. Plankton's tiny body was no match for the metallic beast that was hurtling towards him, and the next thing he knew, his world had gone dark. SpongeBob's eyes widened as he watched his boss's arch-nemesis crumble to the ground, the frying pan clattering loudly beside him. The usually boisterous kitchen was now eerily silent, save for the distant hiss of the fryers. Mr. Krabs' chest heaved with each breath, his claws still poised in the air from the swing. "Mr. Krabs!" Sponge Bob squeaked, his spatula frozen mid-air. "Is he okay?" But Mr. Krabs' has retreated to his own office, leaving Sponge Bob with Plankton. Carefully, Sponge Bob prodded him with his spatula. No response. His single, tiny eyelid was closed. After a while, Plankton stirred. His eye fluttered open, but the world was a jumbled mess. The colors were too bright, the noises too loud, the smells too overwhelming. The kitchen of the Krusty Krab, a place he still knew like the back of his tiny hand, was suddenly a chaotic maelstrom of sensory input that his brain couldn't process. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all, but the clanging of pots and pans, the sizzling of the fryers, and the garish neon lights just added to the confusion. SpongeBob's face appeared above him, a mask of worry and concern, his porous expression more complex than anything Plankton had ever seen. "Are you okay?" the sponge asked, his voice a gentle wave lapping against the shore of his newfound reality. Plankton nods, running back home to the Chum Bucket. Plankton's computer wife Karen's no stranger to him coming back upset or wanting space. So as Plankton retreats to his room in the Chum Bucket, she doesn't prompt him. Alone in the bedroom, Plankton intensely stared at the wall, his thoughts racing like a tornado. Everything was different now. The once-familiar world had turned on him, and he couldn't understand why. The lights in the Chum Bucket, usually a comfort, now blazed like the sun in his face. The noises, oh, the noises! They were so loud, so overwhelming, like a cacophony of a million tiny bells ringing in his head. He put his hands over his ears, trying to block them out, but even the softest hum seemed to resonate within his skull. Plankton wasn't sure how to process these new sensations. His brain was on overload, and his body felt like it didn't belong to him anymore. He was aware of every tiny detail in his environment, every speck of dust on the floor, every vibration from the floorboards, and it was all too much. He tried to get up, to find solace in his usual routine, but his legs failed him. They trembled and wobbled like Jell-O on a stormy sea. Plankton fell back onto the bed, feeling the softness of the pillow beneath him and the cool metal of the bed frame against his back. It was then that he noticed the pattern of the wallpaper, the tiny, intricate shapes that danced before his eye. They spun and swirled, forming complex mazes that his mind tried desperately to solve. It was mesmerizing, yet terrifying. He was trapped in a world of overstimulation, and he didn't know how to escape.

SWEET CWEAM pt. 4 "Can I hav thome wathermelon?" he asked, his voice a slurry mess. Karen chuckled and shook her head. "Not yet, Plankton. You have to stick to soft foods today. How about some ice cream?" His eye lit up, his smile growing wider, exposing the whiteness of his teeth. "Ith cweam?" he repeated, the words spilling out like a child's first attempt at a sentence. Karen nodded, her own smile a mirror of his. "Yes, soft serve ice cream. It's perfect for your mouth right now." Plankton clapped his hands together in glee. "Ith weal," he declared, his tongue still thick and clumsy. "My faworite!" Karen fetched the promised treat from the freezer, the coolness of the ice cream contrasting sharply with the warmth of the room. She scooped a generous amount into a bowl, handing it to him with a spoon. Plankton's eye lit up, and he took the spoon with the excitement of a toddler getting their first taste of ice cream. With a clumsy attempt at grace, he lifted the spoon to his mouth, the numbness in his face making it difficult to aim. A dribble of ice cream escaped and landed on the table, but he barely noticed, his attention focused on the cold sweetness that washed over his tongue. "Mmh," he mumbled, his voice a mix of pleasure and pain as the frozen treat hit his sensitive gums. "Careful," Karen cautioned, her voice like a lullaby. "You don't want to hurt yourself." Plankton nodded, his movements exaggerated, like a character in a silent movie. The spoon wobbled in his hand as he scooped up another mouthful of the cold cream, his tongue still struggling to navigate the uncharted waters of his own mouth. He managed to get the spoonful into his mouth with minimal spillage, his cheeks hollowing out as he savored the taste. "Wow, thith ith tho good," he mumbled, his words coming out like a muffled shout. Karen couldn't help but laugh as she watched him. His enthusiasm was infectious, even if his coordination was not. He took another bite, the cold sensation making his eye water. "It'th tho cold!" he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and filled with excitement. The numbness in his cheeks was wearing off now, leaving a tingling sensation that made his words come out slurred and exaggerated. "It's supposed to be cold, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a symphony of patience. "It's ice cream." He nodded, his cheeks red with effort and cold. Each spoonful was a small victory, a dance between the spoon and his uncooperative mouth. Karen’s glad she turned their security cameras on record. Of course, she didn’t tell Plankton. Not yet. Then suddenly, Sponge Bob comes in the door, surprising both of them. "Squishy!" Plankton exclaims, his voice a strange mix of joy and pain. Sponge Bob's eyes widen. "You okay, Plankton?" he asks, looking at Karen for an explanation. Karen nods, still chuckling. "Wisdom teeth surgery," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. "The anesthesia is making his mouth all numb." Sponge Bob's eyes go wide with concern. "Ouchies?" he asks, his own mouth forming a sympathetic grimace. Plankton nods vigorously, the motion sending a shiver down his spine. "Yeth, ouchiesth," he mumbles around the mouthful of ice cream, his speech still slurred like a toddler's. Karen watches the interaction with a soft smile, her heart swelling with affection for her babbling husband. Sponge Bob crosses the room with his usual boundless energy, plopping down next to Plankton. "So, how was your big trip to the dental place?" he asks, his eyes full of concern and curiosity. Plankton looks at his friend with the gravity of a philosopher. "It’th... advehnturous," he says, his mouth still numb, making each word a challenge. Sponge Bob leans in, his spongy body wobbling slightly. "What kind of adventure?" he asks, his eyes shining with curiosity. Plankton's voice takes on a storytelling tone, his words slurred but earnest. "I frew," he says, his eye wide and filled with wonder. "I frew wike a birdie!" Sponge Bob's grin splits his face. "You flew?" he repeats, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. Karen's smile widens, listening to the nonsense her husband was spinning. Plankton nods, his eye glazed over. "Yeah," he murmurs, his tongue sluggish. "It wath magithal." Karen and Sponge Bob exchange glances, trying not to laugh. Plankton's childlike awe in the face of his own numbness was both heartwarming and hilarious. "Buh wait," Plankton says, his spoon paused mid-air. "Thath not aww," his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I theen... I theen I wath a dolphin!" Sponge Bob's eyes go wide with fascination. "A dolphin?" he repeats, his voice filled with awe. "How did you do that?" Plankton's smile grows even wider, his cheeks pushing against the swollen skin. "It'th a mithtewwy," he says, his speech still slurred. "They goth me all sleeby and thewe I wath flipping and twirling in the wathah!" Sponge Bob's eyes are as wide as saucers, his imagination running wild with the tale. "Wow, Plankton, that sounds amazing!" Plankton nods, his face a picture of seriousness. "It wath," he slurs, his voice filled with convinction. "Buth then... then I woke up." His expression remains affectionate for he’s too out of it to play it cool in front of Sponge Bob. He’s always wanted him as a good friend but his pride usually stops him; but now, with no filter, Plankton’s not gonna hold back. Sponge Bob looks at Karen with a mix of confusion and delight. "Was it scary?" he asks, his voice gentle. Karen nods, a warm chuckle bubbling up. "A little," she says, her hands folded in her lap. "But he's a tough guy." Plankton's eye swims with emotions, his face flushing with a mix of pride and embarrassment. "Yeath," he says, his tongue still a traitor. "Buh now youw know my thecret."

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 4 (Autistic author) Karen takes a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. They need to find a way to connect, to bridge the gap that's grown between them. "Plankton," she says, "can you tell me about your day?" He looks at her, his eye blinking slowly. "Day," he repeats, his voice lacking the usual inflection. "Plankton worked on invention." Karen nods, trying to encourage him. "What kind of invention?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Invention for Plankton," he says. "To make Karen Plankton happy." Karen's eyes fill with tears. Despite the lack of emotion in his words, she can feel the sincerity behind them. He's trying to connect, to share his world with her. "Looks like we both finished our dinner," she says, trying to keep the conversation going. "What's next on your agenda?" Plankton looks at her, his expression unchanged. "Agenda," he says, as if trying to remember the concept. "Plankton's next task. No get Krabby Patty formula. Rather spend time with Karen." Karen clenches at his words. Despite the flatness of his tone, she can feel his intention to please her, to make their anniversary special. "Let's clean up," she suggests, rising from her chair. Plankton follows suit, moving in a way that seems almost robotic. They work in silence, Karen placing the dishes in the sink and Plankton methodically wiping down the table. As she washes the plates, Karen watches him out of the corner of her screen. His movements are precise and efficient, with no wasted effort. It's as if he's calculating every action, trying to understand the purpose behind each task. "Plankton," she says softly, turning off the faucet. "Could you please dry these for me?" She hands him a towel and a plate. He takes them without a word, his gaze flicking from the towel to the plate, as if studying the physics of the interaction. He carefully wipes the plate, his movements measured and deliberate. Karen watches him with a mix of pride and pain. Despite his new condition, he's still trying to be the partner she knows. She forces a smile, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. "Thank you," she says, taking the dried plate from him and placing it in the cupboard. "You're doing great." He nods, his antennae twitching slightly. "Great," he echoes. "Karen happy." As they go to the living room, Plankton's gaze is drawn to the digital clock on the wall. His eye fixates on the changing seconds, each tick a silent metronome in their otherwise quiet space. Karen notices and wonders if she should be concerned about his newfound interest in something so mundane. "Clock," he says, his voice still monotone. "Time changes. Incremental." Karen follows his gaze to the digital clock on the wall, the red numbers flipping from one second to the next with a quick, silent efficiency. "Does the clock bother you?" she asks, noticing his fixation. Plankton shakes his head, his eye still glued to the display. "No," he says, his voice thoughtful. "Time. Changes. Fascinating." Karen watches him, seeing a spark of curiosity she hadn't noticed before. "You've never liked clocks before," she points out, trying to keep the conversation going. "What's so interesting about it now?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly as he tries to explain. "Clock," he says, his voice still flat. "Time. Changing. Predictable." His single eye remains locked on the red digits, the fascination growing. "Seconds restart each minute." Karen nods, watching his expression closely. "It's like a pattern," she suggests. "A routine that doesn't change." Plankton nods, his eye still glued to the clock. "Pattern," he repeats. "Comforting." Karen nods, feeling a glimmer of hope. "Maybe you find comfort in the predictability?" she offers. Plankton's antennae bob slightly, as if considering this new perspective. "Comfort," he murmurs. "Consistent. Understood." Karen sits down beside him, her screen drawn to the clock as well. "Tell me more about the pattern," she says, trying to find a way into his new reality. "What do you see when you look at it?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly as he considers his answer. "Pattern," he repeats. "Time, changing. Predictable." His voice is softer now, almost lost in thought. "One, two, three, four, five. Always same." Karen nods, her screen still on the clock. "It's like counting," she says. "Do you like counting?" Plankton's antennae twitch once again. "Counting," he repeats, his tone thoughtful. Suddenly, Sponge Bob comes in. "Plankton," he says, his eyes wide with excitement. "What are you guys up to?" Karen looks over, a forced smile on her screen. "Just talking about time," she says, hoping SpongeBob's entrance will provide some much-needed distraction from the heaviness of their conversation.

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 4 Karen stands, gently helping Plankton to his feet. He sways slightly, his legs still wobbly from the anesthesia. "Careful," she says, wrapping an arm around his waist. He leans into her, his eye still glazed as he chuckles. "M-mph... funny," he slurs, a weak smile on his face. "You're going to be fine," Karen reassures him, her voice a beacon of comfort in the fog of his mind. They shuffle slowly down the hallway, his legs unsteady as if he's walking on a tightrope over a shark tank. The floor seems to tilt and sway, each step a dizzying challenge. Karen holds him close, her arm around his waist, guiding him like a ship navigating stormy waters. Plankton's eye start to droop, his lid growing heavier by the second. "W-where... whewe... we go?" he slurs, his speech barely coherent. Karen's response is lost to the symphony of his snores as he unexpectedly dozes off mid-sentence as she catches him. He jolts awake, only to find himself still standing, held upright by Karen's steady grip. "H-how?" he stammers, his eye wide with confusion. They've reached the reception area, and Becky, the ever-cheery receptionist, giggles at the sight. "You can sit him down now," she suggests. "Just keep an eye on him until he's fully awake." Karen guides him to the chair, his legs folding under him like a ragdoll. He's out again, his snores echoing in the quiet lobby. She can't help but smile at his obliviousness, his trust in her unwavering. The chair creaks beneath his weight as his head lolls to the side, his antennae drooping. Becky, the receptionist, laughs kindly. "It's like he's on a little anesthesia-induced vacation," she says, her voice a gentle wake. Karen nods, stroking his antennae. "I just want to get him home," she says. "He's not one for being out of his element." The nurse, Nina, appears with a wheelchair. "Let's get you home, Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle nudge into reality. He blinks, his eye trying to focus on the world around him. Karen helps him into the chair. "W-wheel...?" He starts to protest, his slurred words trailing off as he realizes the futility of his protest. Karen smiles, pushing the chair. "It's okay, you're still groggy. This is just to make sure you don't trip." "W-why?" he murmurs, his words slurred and sleepy. "M'walkin'... woke... m'not..." Karen chuckles, her voice a soft breeze. "You're a bit out of it, Plankton," she says, "We're going home." Plankton's head lolls back, his snores now a comforting soundtrack to their exit. Karen can't help but laugh softly, her heart full of love. He's always been so independent, so strong. But in this moment, he's as vulnerable as a newborn. The cool morning air hits them as they step outside. Plankton blinks, his antennae twitching as he tries to stay conscious. "M-morning," he mumbles, squinting against the sun's early glow. Karen chuckles, pushing the wheelchair to their car. "W-what?" he asks again, his speech still slurred. "You're okay, sweetheart," she says, opening the passenger door. "Let's get you into the car." But Plankton's body seems to have other plans, his eye slip shut and he's out like a light. Karen tries to wake him, her voice a gentle nudge into consciousness. "Come on, Plankton, stay with me." He snores in response, his antennae flopping to one side. Karen sighs, trying not to laugh at his comical state. Carefully, she maneuvers him into the car seat, his head lolling back. "Alright, just a little more," she coaxes. With a grunt, Plankton's eye flickers open as Karen helps buckle him in. "W-why..." He mumbles, his words trailing off as his eyelid droops again. Karen can't help but chuckle. "You're still sleepy, that's all," she says, kissing his forehead. The drive home is slow and careful, Karen keeping a watchful eye on Plankton in the rearview mirror. He's still out cold, his snores punctuating the silence like a lullaby for the road. The car's gentle sway seems to rock him deeper into sleep. They pull into their driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. Karen parks the car and turns around to look at Plankton. His snores are deep, his antennae twitching slightly with each exhale. She smiles, knowing he's in a deep, peaceful sleep. "Come on, Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "We're home." He groans, his eye opening just enough to peer out. "Hone?" he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen nods, her smile warm. "You can go back to sleep once we're inside."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 4 (Autistic author) In the dim light of the evening, the Krusty Krab was quiet, the usual bustle replaced by a calm that felt eerie. Sponge Bob was sweeping the floor, his thoughts on Plankton. He looked up as Karen approached, his smile fading at the sight of her concerned expression. "Karen," he began, his spongey voice tinged with anxiety, "I need to tell you what happened to Plankton." Karen's screens brighten with anticipation. "Please do," she beeps, her wheels stopping in front of him. Sponge Bob's eyes dart to the floor, his sponge body drooping slightly. "Mr. Krabs was just trying to protect this formula, and Plankton...he just knocked Plankton in the head. Plankton woke up and then without a word ran back to the Chum Bucket." Karen's screens flicker with the gravity of the situation. "How did Mr. Krabs hit him?" Sponge Bob's grip on the mop tightens. "With a frying pan," he confesses, his eyes wide with guilt. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "That would explain his current state," she murmurs, her voice a steady beep. "Sponge Bob, do you know how badly he's been hurt?" Sponge Bob shakes his head, the guilt washing over him in waves. "No, not really," he says, his voice quavering. Karen's screens flicker with a mix of sympathy and urgency. "I see," she says. "Thanks." With newfound purpose, she spins around and heads back to the Chum Bucket. Back in the control room, Plankton is still rocking back and forth, his hand over his head as if trying to hold his thoughts in place. The door to the Chum Bucket opens, and Karen rolls in, her screens reflecting the urgency of the situation. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft hum, "I talked to Sponge Bob. He saw what happened." Plankton's rocking stops, his eye swiveling to meet hers. "Sponge Bob?" "Yes," Karen says, her screens pulsing with the weight of her words. "He saw Mr. Krabs hit you with the frying pan." Plankton's body goes still, his tremors ceasing instantly. "Sponge Bob saw," he whispers, his voice devoid of emotion. "Tell Karen." "Yes," Karen beeps, nodding her mechanical head. "He told me. I'm going to help you." Without warning, a scanning beam shoots out of Karen's console, enveloping Plankton as his brain is scanned. The results are quickly analyzed, and the screens flash with a series of diagrams and data that even Karen's advanced systems take a moment to digest. "The scan reveals...unusual patterns," she says, her voice a measured beep. Plankton's eye widen with fear, his body tensing as he waits for her verdict. "What does that mean?" he asks, his voice a high-pitched squeak. Karen's screens change to display a 3D image of his brain, the structure illuminated with neon colors. "You've sustained neurodivergence," she explains, her voice a calm beep. "The impact has altered your neural connections, resulting in irreversible autism." Plankton's body goes rigid, his breathing shallow. The word "autism" hangs in the air like a heavy anchor, dragging his spirits down to the murky depths of the ocean floor. "Irreversible?" he whispers, his voice fragile as sea glass. Karen nods gravely. "The good news is, we can adapt. We can learn to navigate this new world of sensations together," she beeps. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed." Plankton nods, his body feeling like it's made of lead. The idea of sleep seems like a welcome escape from the overwhelming day, but as he tries to get up, the room spins again. "Karen," he says, his voice weak. "Can't." With a gentle nudge, Karen helps him to his feet, her wheels moving silently beside him as they make their way to the tiny elevator. The ride up feels like an eternity, his senses heightened to every creak and groan of the metal box. When the doors open, the lights of the hallway are a glaring assault on his eye. He squints, his hand reaching out to the wall for support. In their bedroom, Karen helps him into his bed. The softness of the covers is a stark contrast to the harshness of his new reality. "Take your time," she says, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton nods, his breathing shallow. He closes his eye, and the room seems to fade away, replaced by a whirlpool of swirling thoughts and sensations. Karen's screens flicker with a plan. "Rest," she beeps, her voice a soft comfort. "We'll face tomorrow together." She dims the lights.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 4 (Neurodivergent author) Mr. Krabs's expression shifts from shock to one of bewilderment. "Plankton, I don't understand," he says, his voice barely a whisper. Plankton shakes his head, his antennae trembling. "You never did," he snaps back. The accusations come out in a torrent, each one cutting deeper than the last. "You used me, manipulated me, all for your stupid secret formula!" His voice shakes with anger, his eye filling with unshed tears. Karen's grip tightens on his arm, but she doesn't speak, knowing he needs this moment of release. Mr. Krabs's face falls, the weight of Plankton's words a blow he wasn't expecting. "I-I-I've always treated ya like a friend!" he stammers, his claws grabbing Plankton's shoulders. And that's what did it. Plankton's body tenses, and his eye rolls back in his head. A chilling silence descends as his legs give out, and he crashes to the floor. His body convulses, limbs flailing uncontrollably. Karen knew it'd happen, but seeing it happen to Plankton is a horror she wasn't emotionally prepared for, but she knew to stay calm. She knew the protocol. Mr. Krabs, still in shock from Plankton's accusations, watches the scene unfold with horror. "What's happening?" he stammers, his claws hovering uselessly. Karen's voice is a beacon of calm amidst the chaos. "It's a seizure," she explains, kneeling beside her husband. "I need you to stay calm." Her voice is steady, her eyes never leaving Plankton's contorting form. Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes widening with fear. He's read about this, seen it once in a medical textbook, but never thought it would happen to someone so close. He watches as Karen carefully moves any objects out of harm's way, cushioning Plankton's head with a pillow. The room seems to spin around them, each second stretching into eternity. The seizure lasts only a few moments, but to Karen, it feels like hours. When it's over, Plankton's body goes still, his breathing shallow. Her hand shakes as she checks his pulse, feeling the thunder of her own heart in her chest. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice trembling. "You're okay." Mr. Krabs is unsure. "It's okay," she murmurs, her hand stroking his antennae. "It's over now." Plankton's breathing deepens, his body slowly relaxing with a twitch. She looks at Mr. Krabs, her expression a mix of relief and exhaustion. "He'll be okay," she assures, her voice a lifeline in the storm of silence. Mr. Krabs nods, still in shock. "What...what do we do?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen sighs, knowing the road ahead won't be easy, but she's determined to navigate it with Plankton. They manage to get Plankton to his feet, his body weak and his mind still groggy from the seizure. His eye darts around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Karen's voice is soft, a gentle guide leading him back to reality. "Let's go to the couch," she says, her arm supporting his weight. Mr. Krabs watches, his claws fidgeting nervously. "Should I... call someone?" he asks, his voice full of uncertainty. Karen shakes her head. "We have to keep it calm," she whispers. "The aftermath can be just as overwhelming." They sit on the couch, Plankton's body leaning heavily into hers. Her arm is around him, her hand stroking his antennae in a rhythm designed to soothe. He looks up at her, his eye still a little wild. "What happened?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "You had a seizure," Karen explains gently, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "It's part of your autism, sweetie. It's okay." She can see the fear in his gaze, the unspoken questions. She pulls a blanket over his shoulders, his body shaking from the residual adrenaline. Plankton nods, his antennae twitching as he tries to process the information. He looks down at his trembling hands, wondering how they could have betrayed him so suddenly. Karen hands him a glass of water, her fingers brushing against his in a silent promise of support. He takes a sip, the cool liquid sliding down his throat, helping to clear the fog in his mind. "I'm...sorry," Plankton mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. He looks up at Mr. Krabs, who's still standing awkwardly by the door. "I didn't mean to...to accuse you..." His antennae droop with regret. Mr. Krabs's expression softens, his eyes filling with understanding. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "We all have our moments." He takes a tentative step forward. "What can I do?" Karen glances at him, gratitude warring with the protectiveness she feels for Plankton. "Just give us some space," she says, her tone firm but not unkind. "We need to get him through this." Mr. Krabs nods slowly, his face a mix of sadness and concern. "I understand," he says, his voice thick. He backs out of the room, his eyes never leaving Plankton's huddled form. The door clicks shut, and the room feels smaller, safer. Karen's arm tightens around his shoulders, her warmth a shield against the cold world outside. Plankton leans into her, his body still shaking slightly. He starts to calm down, the tremors fading like ripples in a pond. "I'm...I'm okay," he whispers, his antennae stilling. Karen nods, her eyes searching his face for any sign of distress. "Do you want to take a nap?" she suggests softly. Plankton nods, his eye drooping with exhaustion. They move to the bedroom, the light dimming as they go. Karen helps him into bed, his limbs feeling like jelly. The blankets are a cocoon, his retreat from the world. Her hand brushes his antennae, a silent assurance as she leaves him to the embrace of slumber. He closes his eye, letting the comfort of the darkness envelop him. His body relaxes into the softness of the mattress, his muscles melting away the tension of the day. The bed's embrace is like a gentle whisper, telling his overstimulated mind to rest, to let go. He sighs, his antennae dropping to the pillow like tired leaves in the fall. Meanwhile, Karen goes to Mr. Krabs, who's waiting outside the chum bucket. "I'm sorry for Plankton's outburst," she says, her eyes apologetic. Mr. Krabs waves a dismissive claw. "Don't worry 'bout it," he says. "He's been through a lot today." Karen nods, her expression serious. "It's more than that," she says, her voice low. "He's autistic." Mr. Krabs's eyes widen, his understanding dawning, a newfound respect in his gaze. "I had no idea," he murmurs. "How can I help?" "Just be patient," Karen replies. "And maybe...maybe we can talk later, after he's had some rest." Mr. Krabs nods, his expression thoughtful. "Of course," he says, his voice subdued. "Whatever he needs."

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 1 (Autistic author) "You never listen to me!" Karen exclaimed, her voice echoing through the small lab. Her husband, Plankton, looked up from his invention, a frown furrowing his brow. "What's wrong now?" he asked. "It's the same thing, every single day," Karen said, crossing her arms. "You're always so focused on your work, you forget what's important." Plankton sighed, setting down his wrench. "And what's that?" Karen's eyes flashed with frustration. "Our anniversary dinner, for one," she said. "You promised we'd go out tonight, remember?" Plankton's frown deepened as he tried to recall the conversation. "The dinner...right. I thought it was next week," he mumbled, his gaze darts back to his invention. "No, it's tonight!" Karen's voice was now a mix of annoyance and desperation. "I've had this all planned out for weeks, and you've barely even acknowledged it." Plankton looked at her, his eye suddenly wide with realization. "Tonight? But I've got the final adjustments. It's a breakthrough, Karen!" Karen threw her hands in exasperation. "It's always a breakthrough, isn't it? When are you going to realize that we need to make time for us?" Plankton took a step. "You know how important this is to me, to us," he said, his voice softening. "Once I get this right, we can finally be happy, have the life we deserve when I..." "When you what?" Karen interrupted. "When you finally steal the Krabby Patty formula?" she finished for him, her tone heavy with sarcasm. "Is that what you think will fix everything?" Plankton's shoulders slumped. He knew his obsession with Mr. Krabs' secret formula was a sore spot for Karen, but he couldn't help the hope that burned inside him. "It's not just about that," he said, trying to explain. "It's about proving to everyone, including myself, that I can do something big." He gets up on the shelf. Karen turns away. Karen's frustration boiled over, her face flushing. "You're so caught up in this ridiculous vendetta that you don't even see what you're doing to us!" she yelled, slamming her hand down on the lab table. The sudden noise startled Plankton enough to wobble on his precarious perch, and with a tiny squeak of terror, he lost his balance and toppled over. His invention fell with him, colliding with his head with an ominous clank. Karen turns around, her anger replaced with concern in an instant. "Plankton, are you ok?" He lay still. Karen rushed over. He was unconscious. Karen knelt beside his tiny body. "Plankton," she whispered, shaking him gently. Panic began to set in as he didn't stir. The weight of her actions crashed down on her. She hadn't meant for it to go this far. "Plankton, talk to me," she begged. With trembling fingers, she checked for a pulse. It was faint but there, and she felt a small wave of relief. But he was still out cold. Her mind raced as she tried to think what to do next. Calling for help was out of the question; their rivalry with Mr. Krabs meant they couldn't afford any more attention from the authorities. She knew they gotta wait it out. Gently, she picked him up. He was surprisingly heavy for his size. Carefully, she cradled him in her arms and laid him down on the couch. The room was eerily silent except for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Karen sat beside his unconscious form, her eyes brimming with worry. The fight they'd just had seemed trivial now. "I'm sorry," she murmured, stroking his antennae gently. "You're right, I know how much this means to you. But I just want you to know that no matter what, I'm here for you." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she talked to him, as if fearful that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile peace that had settled over the room. "You don't have to prove anything to me, or to anyone else. I'm proud of you just the way you are." Karen's eyes searched Plankton's face for any sign of movement, but his features remained slack, his eye closed. She leaned in closer. "You're a brilliant inventor," she continued. "But you're also a husband, and I need you to remember that." Her voice was filled with a mixture of love and desperation. "I know you can't hear me right now, but I need you to know," she continued, her voice shaking slightly. "I know you're tired of always being second best. But to me, you're not just Plankton, you're the man I chose to spend the rest of my life with." Karen took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she held onto his limp form. "We've been through so much together, and I know you think the Krabby Patty is the key to our happiness, but it's not. It's you. It's us." Her voice grew stronger, fueled by the passion of her words. "We can have a great life without that formula. We can build something new, something just for us." Plankton's chest began to rise and fall more evenly, his breathing steady. Karen watched him, hope growing in her heart. Maybe he could hear her after all. "When you wake up, let's talk. Let's put this behind us and make a promise to each other to make our marriage a priority," she pleaded, her eyes never leaving his face. The minutes dragged by, each one heavier than the last. The silence in the lab was a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of whirring machines and Plankton's excited exclamations. Karen's mind raced with thoughts of all the times they'd shared, laughing and planning together, and she couldn't help but reflect on their relationship. The countless nights spent in the lab, the stolen glances of affection, and the shared dream of a better future. It all flashed before her eyes, and she realized just how much Plankton meant to her. With her heart pounding in her chest, she leaned closer to his unconscious form, her voice trembling. "Plankton, please wake up," she whispered. "I need you to hear me. Our love is our greatest invention, not some secret recipe. I know I've been pushing you, but it's because I see how much this obsession consumes you." She took a deep breath, her voice steadying. "But if you can't let go of this dream, I'll support you. I'll always be here, by your side, no matter what." After a long silence, Plankton groaned. Karen gasped, her eyes filling with relief as she saw the spark of consciousness as he opens his eye. He groaned softly, his hand coming up to rub his head. "Where?" he mumbled, his voice slurred with confusion. Karen took his hand, her voice gentle. "You're on the couch, Plankton. You fell."

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 1 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ & ꜱᴜʀɢᴇʀʏ "But, why? Karen they're not even hurting or growing in, yet!" "It's preventative, Sheldon; the x-ray showed potential crowding." Karen responds to her husband, Plankton. It's the night before his wisdom teeth extraction, and she knew he's nervous. Sheldon Plankton sighs, running his tongue over his back molars, feeling the gums where the wisdom teeth lurk beneath the surface. But it does little to distract from the looming dental appointment tomorrow morning. He looks at his wife, Karen, whose screen filled with understanding. She's always been the level-headed one, calming him during their most turbulent times. "Don't worry, sweetheart," Karen says, stroking his forehead gently, "You'll be under anesthesia. You won't feel a thing. It'll be like a little nap, and when you wake up, it'll all be over." They go to bed, as they'll have to get up early. Plankton's always been a light sleeper, usually the last to fall asleep and/or first to wake. The anticipation of the morning's dental procedure keeps him tossing and turning. The digital clock on the nightstand clicks over to 2 AM, its red digits glowing like an accusation. Karen has to take him in three hours... Karen's awake at 4:45. Plankton lay beside her snoring gently. She gently shakes him. "Plankton," she whispers, "it's time to get up." He stirs, groaning softly, eye fluttering open to the dim room. "Ugh.." Karen smiles softly, "Come on, honey, we've got to get going. The sooner we're there, the sooner it's over." With a heavy sigh, Plankton gets up. The drive to the dentist's office is tense and quiet. The soft hum of the car's engine and the occasional streetlight flickering outside are the only sounds that accompany them through the desolate early morning streets. They arrive at the clinic, a modern building with sleek glass walls that reflect the pre-dawn light. Plankton's heart thumps in his chest as he follows Karen inside. The receptionist, a cheery woman named Becky, greets them with a smile that seems almost painfully bright at this hour. "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Plankton!" she chirps. Plankton nods, trying to match her energy, but his nerves betray him. "You're here for your wisdom teeth, right?" Becky asks, typing away on her keyboard. Plankton nods again, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over him. He's never been a fan of the dentist, but this was a whole new level of dental dread. Karen notices this and squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry," Becky says, noticing his distress, "Dr. Marlin is the best. And our anesthesia is top-notch. You won't feel a thing." Plankton tries to smile, but it comes out more as a grimace. "You'll be so relaxed you won't even know what's happening. It's like a dreamless sleep. You'll wake up with four less teeth and a much more comfortable mouth!" She leads them through the hallway, the smell of antiseptic strengthening with each step. The walls are adorned with soothing seascape paintings, an obvious attempt to put patients at ease. Plankton's heart rate doesn't decrease, but he appreciates the effort. They enter the surgery room. The chair is more like a recliner. Dr. Marlin, a friendly-looking octopus, enters the room, his tentacles holding a clipboard. "Good morning," he says in a soothing tone. "Ready to get those wisdom teeth out?" Karen kisses him on the forehead and whispers, "You got this." Plankton nods, trying to convince himself. The doctor explains the procedure one last time, his tentacles gesturing to the various tools laid out on the tray. The nurse, a clownfish named Nina, starts to prep him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're going to give you something to bite down on to keep your mouth open," Nina says, holding up a plastic mouth prop. It looks like a small version of an L-shaped building block. Plankton nods again. The chair reclines back and the overhead light shines down, casting harsh shadows on the ceiling tiles. Karen squeezes his hand once more before stepping aside as Dr. Marlin and Nina get to work. The anesthesia is administered, and the room starts to blur. Plankton feels his body go slack, the fear giving way to a sudden calm. He hears Karen's voice, faintly, saying, "See you..." And then, darkness. Karen feels his hand go limp in hers as the anesthesia takes hold. She watches as Dr. Marlin's tentacles swirl around Plankton's open mouth. The nurse, Nina, holds a small syringe filled with a clear liquid, which she carefully administers into his gums. Plankton's body relaxes further, and he starts to snore as they prod his numb gums, all while he's remaining asleep. The surgery goes by in a blur for Karen, who sits in the chair next to him, holding his hand. She can hear the sounds of the extraction tools, but she focuses on his peaceful breathing and the steady beep of the heart rate monitor. The room is cool, the sterile smell of the surgery room comforting in its own way. As the extraction begins, Plankton doesn't stir. The doctor's tentacles move with practiced precision, each tug and pull a dance of surgical skill. Nina stands by, her eyes focused on the monitors, ensuring his vital signs remain stable. The first tooth is out. Karen can't help but look away at the sound of bone cracking, despite the doctor's assurance that Plankton can't feel it. Her eyes water, but she quickly wipes the tears away, not wanting to alarm the already unconscious Plankton. She glances at the clock. Only twenty minutes have passed. Dr. Marlin strokes Plankton's antennae. Nina nods along, her attention mostly on Plankton. The second tooth is extracted with slightly more resistance. The doctor's tentacles tug gently, applying the right amount of pressure. Karen squeezes his hand. "It's okay," she whispers, though she's not sure if he can hear. The third tooth is the most stubborn, requiring the use of a pair of forceps that make a sound like a tiny car wreck. Plankton's body jerks slightly but he remains unconscious. The doctor and nurse work in harmony, their movements so swift and coordinated that they almost seem like a dance. The fourth tooth is the quickest to come out, as if it knew it was the last stand and gave up without a fight. Dr. Marlin nods to Nina, who begins to suture Plankton's gums. The needle pierces through the swollen flesh with a sound that makes Karen cringe, but Plankton doesn't react at all. She watches as Nina's nimble fins guide the thread with the care of a master embroiderer, stitching the flaps of gum back together. Plankton's snoring remains steady as they suture his numb gums. Nina's fin deftly weaves the thread, each stitch a silent promise of a pain-free future. The tension in the room slowly dissolves with each completed suture. They use dissolvable stitches, so they use more anesthesia to numb the inside of the gums before stitching them up completely. Dr. Marlin steps back, wiping his tentacles with a towel. "All done," he says with a smile. The doctor rinses Plankton's numb mouth with saline of any excess blood or debris, and Karen notices the transformation: his tense jaw relaxes, his breathing deepens, and his usually active antennae are still, as if he's sunk into the deepest of slumbers.

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

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❹,4

₁₂₇

TEAM 1️⃣

⣿⣿⠿⠛⣉⣉⣉⣉⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣌⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⢉⠋⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣷⣄⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢉⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡈⠻⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⣄⡙⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡈⠻⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢹⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⣉⣀⠀⠙⣨⣤⣭⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢻⢸⣿⡟⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠸⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⣿⣿⣯⡇⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠛⢿⡏⣡⣶⡌⢻⣟⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠛⢋⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢰⣿⣷⣬⢉⣵⣿⣿⣧⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠇⣸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠘⠿⠿⠟⢁⡙⠛⠛⢋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠀⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⡿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⢻⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⢋⣭⣭⠡⠾⢟⣂⣒⡻⠷⠌⠵⢶⣍⠻⣛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠈⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⢋⣴⡦⢊⣥⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣬⣌⡛⠿⠌⣛⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡅⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⢑⡸⢁⣾⡟⠉⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣝⠻⡆⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⢾⠃⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠿⣿⣷⣌⠻⡆⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠠ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢠⡀⣿⣿⣷⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣦⣱⣌⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⡏⢰ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠣⠹⢛⣙⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣭⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⡇⠛⣸⣽⣿⡟⡻⢁⣾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣴⣿⣿⣯⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⢼⣾⣟⠟⢁⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠙⠛⠟⣙⡻⣦⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡀⢡⠞⠛⣁⣴⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣶⣿⠆⠿⠦⠀⣰⣾⢂⣉⣛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⢁⣺⣥⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠛⠿⣿⣷⣤⠀⣀⠳⢢⣢⢲⠧⠘⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠉⡀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⠌⢉⡄⣈⠑⠛⠛⠂⠚⠓⠒⠀⠀⡀⢩⣴⣶⣶⡌⢢⡘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣴⣿⠟⡅⠚⠘⠂⡽⢻⣿⣬⣿⣷⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠒⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠴⣋⡅⣚⣥⣾⣿⣧⣙⠂⢭⡛⠻⠿⠃⡌⠛⢿⣿⣃⣼⠟⠈⢨⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣐⣣⣶⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠘⣶⣦⣍⠁⠐⠐⠰⠌⠉⠋⠁⠄⠶⠂⠊⢙⢻⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⣿⣿⣇⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⠀⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡶⠂⢉⣾⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⡙⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣦⣭⣝⡋⠶⢙⣫⣥⣴⡇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣙⣂⠶⠦⠠⣤⠤⣄⡀⣡⣀⢠⣀⠄⣤⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠐⠶⠶⠄⠀⠼⣦⡲⠔⠾⣶⣶⣶⠶⠖⠀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠛⠶⠶⠀⢿⣶⣤⣤⣘⣣⣤⣤⣤⣶⡞⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣁⣉⣉⣉⣉⣡⣌⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠀⣼⣯⠀⠉⠙⠛⠿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠫⣤⡀⠂⠂⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢺⣷⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⣰⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⢆⠀ ⢠⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣏⠀⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⢻⣿⡄ ⣾⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧ ⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿ ⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡟⠻⠿⣿⣿⡗⣿⣷⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡟ ⠸⣿⣆⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠃⠻⢿⣾⣿⣦⡀⠀⣰⣿⠃ ⠀⢻⣿⣶⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⣶⣾⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠹⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⡿⠁⢀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣶⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⡿⢿⣿⣶⣶⣿⡿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 4 Plankton's mind is a swirl of confusion, but he feels the weight of relief in Karen's touch. "Don't worry, Plankton," she says, smiling at him. "You're okay. You just had a little nap." He tries to speak again, his tongue feeling like it's made of marshmallows. "Nap?" he slurs. The nurse, Nina, nods. "You were out cold, Mr. Plankton. We had to wake you up." Plankton's eye widen, and his antennae quiver. "Mm, nap," he mumbles, trying to form sentences through the fog. Karen laughs, her hand still in his. "Yes, a very deep nap. You've had a wisdom tooth extraction, remember?" He nods, his movements sluggish. "Ow...?" he says, his hand reaching up to his mouth. Karen grabs his hand before he can touch the gauze. "No, no," she says, her voice still gentle. "Let them heal. No touching." Nina, the nurse, chuckles. "It's normal for the mouth to feel funny after the surgery. It's all part of the process." Plankton's antennae wiggle, his mind still in a daze. "Mm, funny," he murmurs, trying to form a coherent thought. Karen wipes at his mouth with a tissue, catching the last of his drool. "Don't worry, sweetie, you'll feel better soon," she says, her laughter a gentle melody in the stillness of the room. Nina, the nurse, checks his vitals again. "Looks like you're coming around," she says to Plankton. "Just a bit longer and then we'll get you home." Plankton's mouth moves slowly, his words a jumble. "Tee...th...hurt?" he slurs. Karen shakes her head, smiling despite her own nerves. "No, not yet, Plankton. The numbness will wear off by tomorrow." The nurse, Nina, nods. "He's right, Mr. Plankton. You're all fixed up. No more teeth to worry about." Plankton's eye finally focus on her. "Teef...goog?" he mumbles. Karen nods, her smile growing wider. "Very good," she says. "You did so well." The nurse, Nina, laughs lightly. "It's normal for the mouth to feel weird afterward." Plankton's eye glaze over, his eyelid heavy. He tries to lift his hand to touch his mouth again, but Karen gently holds it back. "Let it be, Plankton. No poking." He looks at her, his gaze confused, a mix of sleepiness and bewilderment. "Tee...th?" he mumbles, his mouth a wet mess of gauze and drool. Karen laughs softly, her eyes shining with affection. "Don't worry, you're okay." Plankton's antennae wave erratically as he tries to sit up again. Nina quickly intervenes, pushing his shoulders back down. "Easy there," she says, "You're not quite ready yet." Karen giggles, enjoying the rare sight of her usually energetic husband so out of sorts. "M-mouth...sho...bith," Plankton slurs, his words a slurred mess. Nina, the nurse, chuckles. "It's the anesthesia, Mr. Plankton." Karen laughs, wiping his mouth with a gentle hand. "It's okay, you're just sleepy. Your mouth will feel normal again soon." Plankton's eye half-closed, his antennae waving lazily. "Karen?" he mumbles. "Tish me?" Karen laughs, her voice like a soothing wave. "It's okay, you're all tucked in." She adjusts his blanket, his body still weak from the anesthesia. Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind swimming in a sea of cotton-like confusion. "Wh-wha...?" he slurs, his eye struggling to stay open. Karen wipes his mouth with a tissue. "You're at the dentist, love. You had your wisdom teeth taken out." "D-denth-tith?" he managed to mumble. Karen laughs, her voice light and airy. "Wisdom teeth, Plankton," she corrects him gently. "They're all gone now. No more worrying." His eye close again, his lashes fluttering. "Wis...them?" he mumbles. "Yeah, the ones that were going to crowd your mouth." The nurse, Nina, laughs. "He's still not with us," she says, shaking her head. Plankton's mouth opens again, and out comes a string of nonsense. "M-m-muffins," he mumbles, his eye still half-closed. Karen's laughter fills the room. "What about muffins?" she asks, playing along. "Firsh...bath thine," he slurs, his thoughts a jumble. Nina, the nurse, can't help but laugh too. "It's the anesthesia," she reminds Karen. "It'll wear off soon." Karen nods, her smile never leaving her face. "I know, I know," she says, wiping at her own tears of mirth. "But he's so adorable like this." Plankton giggles. "How many fingers did the...denth-tith eat?" he asks, his voice a mix of sleepiness and confusion. Karen's laughter fills the room like the chime of a bell. "What are you talking about?" she asks, wiping his mouth. "No fingers, Plankton." "Mm, good," he mumbles, his eye trying to focus. "Becauthe... the denth-tith wike magi...th." Karen's laughter is a warm embrace in the cool, clinical room. "No, Plankton, not magic," she says, "It's just the medicine." He blinks, his eye trying to focus on her. "M-m-magic?" he slurs, his voice a slurred melody. "Tish me." Karen laughs, her hand still in his. "It's not magic, sweetie," she says, her voice like a gentle breeze. "You're just really sleepy." Plankton nods slowly, his eye still not fully open. "M-magic," he murmurs, his voice trailing off. "Tish me more." Karen laughs, her heart warming at his antics. "No more, Plankton," she says, her voice like a melody. "You're all set." Plankton's antennae droop, his voice barely a whisper. "B-but... I wanth moh." His words are slurred, his tongue thick. Karen laughs, her hand still in his. "No more, love," she says, her voice a soft caress. "You're all done. No more teeth to worry about." Plankton's antennae droop even more. "B-but...I wath...wath..." He tries to form words, but his mouth won't cooperate. Karen wipes his mouth again, trying to hide her amusement. "What, sweetie?" she asks, her voice a gentle tease. "What do you want?" "Huh," he murmurs, his eye half-closed. "The denth-tith thad I can eat all the...muf-muf..." his voice fades as his lid flutter shut. Karen giggles, wiping his mouth again. "Muffins?" she asks, her voice a playful dance. "Is that what you want?" Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind still in a haze. "No," he mumbles, his eyelid fighting gravity. "Muff...muf...mu..." his voice trails off as his breathing deepens, his body succumbing to the anesthesia's lingering embrace.

╱|、 (˚ˎ 。7 |、˜〵 じしˍ,)ノ

tum mare janu ho. 🙇

🥀🕯️𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃

SWEET CWEAM pt. 1 Karen stood outside the dental clinic. Plankton had been in surgery for what felt like an eternity. The door swung open, and a nurse with a kind smile beckoned her inside. "You can go in now," she said softly. Karen followed the nurse down the hallway. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. In the recovery room, Plankton was still unconscious, his face a mask of peace. A line of drool had escaped the corner of his mouth. Karen felt a twinge of guilt for not being there to hold his hand during the surgery. The nurse checked his vital signs and nodded to Karen. "You can sit with him now." Karen pulled a chair next to the hospital bed. Her hand found his, and she squeezed gently. Plankton's eye flickered open. He tried to focus, but his eye wouldn't cooperate. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice thick with anesthesia. Her hand tightened around his, and her screen swam into view. "I'm here, sweetie," she whispered, her screen glistening with relief. Plankton blinked several times, his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. The pain was a distant echo, muted by the drugs still coursing through his veins. He managed a nod, his eyelid growing heavy again. Karen offered a small, reassuring smile. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice wrapped in a gentle lilt. Plankton's mouth felt like it had been invaded by an alien species, a strange numbness spreading through his jaw. He tried to form words, but all that came out was a muffled grunt. The nurse chuckled, a sound that was both soothing and slightly irritating. "It's normal," she said, patting his arm. "The anesthesia can make it difficult to talk." He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't respond. It was as if he was trapped in a thick fog, unable to move. The nurse noticed his struggle and moved quickly to his side. "Easy now, Mr. Plankton," she said, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "You're still under the influence of the anesthesia. Take your time." Plankton nodded, his head lolling back onto the pillow. His eye darted around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His mind felt like it was floating in a bubble. "Wha... happened?" he slurred, his tongue thick and unwieldy. The nurse chuckled kindly. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, Mr. Plankton. You're going to be feeling a bit loopy for a while." The words swirled in his head, and slowly, the fog began to lift. Wisdom teeth? Removed? Plankton's hand shakily went to his face, gently prodding the puffy skin around his mouth. A childlike bewilderment washed over him. "Teesh?" he murmured, his voice smaller than he remembered. Karen nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Wisdom teeth," she repeated, her voice a soft caress in the sterile air. "You'll be okay, Plankton." He squinted, trying to understand, and finally managed to mumble, "Wheh?" Karen leaned closer, her face a soft blur above him. "Wisdom teeth," she said, enunciating each syllable as if speaking to a toddler. "They took out your wisdom teeth." The words sank into Plankton's consciousness like a stone in a murky pond. Teeth? Wisdom? The nurse had said something about it, but it still didn't make much sense. He felt like he had forgotten how to piece together coherent thoughts. He looked at his wife with wide, confused eye, like a small child lost in a crowded supermarket. Karen, sensing his desperation, spoke slowly and clearly, as if recounting a bedtime story. "You went to the dentist," she began, her voice soothing. "They had to take out four of your teeth." Plankton's single functioning eye went even wider. "Foe?" he whispered, the shock reverberating through his fuzzy brain. "Don't worry," Karen soothed, stroking his forehead. "You were asleep. You didn't feel a thing."

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kanbghik ayassmine ♥️100❤️

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Ⓜhi

အာဘွား♥🥰

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❤️😏💑👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👨❤️❤️❤️💏💏💏💝💝💝nྀི👩‍❤️‍👨🥰❤S𑁤ˎˊ˗˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚💌▶🦸

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠜⠀⣀⣠⡴⠖⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠻⡆⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⠴⠞⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠞⠋⠉⣠⡆⠰⡇⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡇⢀⣷⣀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⡉⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠷⠀⠀⠈⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀ ⢠⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⡀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀ ⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄ ⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡟⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇ ⠈⣿⡄⠀⢀⣿⠇⠀⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠋⣿⣿⣦⣀⣀⣠⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇ ⠀⢻⣿⣶⣾⡿⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⠋⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠙⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢀⡠⣒⡽⣻⢿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⡿⣲⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠔⠂⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠐⠪⢐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⣗⡝⡾⣹⢲⡝⣞⡻⣏⣟⣞⣧⡻⢖⣮⡑⡵⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣔⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠐⣰⠀⠄⠀⣰⡝⣮⡝⢶⣙⣮⡟⠑⠚⠉⠉⢛⣯⣂⠚⣧⣷⡸⣹⡄⠀⢀⣘⠀⢰⣯⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣧⢀⠢⣄⠴⠭ ⠩⢫⠫⠉⢠⣧⣋⢵⣚⡳⣿⢳⣟⣚⢷⡦⣾⣻⠉⢻⣃⢿⣧⣻⢸⣳⠀⠔⠏⠠⣻⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡒⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⢰⠐⣿⢆⠊⠹⠢⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡧⣏⢶⣻⣿⠏⢸⣏⣾⣹⣞⣳⠇⠀⠀⢻⣼⣷⢿⢿⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⣿⠉⡍⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠈⠳⢄⠀⠀⠀⡆⠆⣸⠀⡏⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⣯⢿⡏⠀⢸⣼⣏⠟⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡿⢾⡞⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⡀⢇⣸⠀⢀⡄⠀⢠⠇⠐⡒⠒⢺⣖⣸⣏⣀⣇⣀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣏⣿⣽⡾⣧⡴⣶⢾⠉⠘⠁⠀⠀⢹⡿⢿⠓⣇⣿⣹⣹⣧⠤⠤⢤⣄⣣⠘⣿⠤⠜⠛⠒⠋⠀⠀⢣⣀⠼⠘⢻⡶⢺⣷⡾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣏⣿⢿⠀⡷⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠞⠀⣹⣾⣾⣇⡿⣐⠅⠐⠒⡻⡷⣧⣄⣀⠀⠀⢠⡄⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⡻⢡⡏⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⠰⢀⡀⠀⢠⡿⣾⣘⣯⣧⣀⡀⠀⠀⢰⠆⣀⣀⡤⠴⢺⣿⣯⡻⠐⠀⡀⠀⡠⠀⢆⠑⢷⢯⣯⢫⣿⣁⣌⣉⡍⣩⣿⣶⡷⡿⣷⢿⠀⠀⠀⡀⡆⡀⠀ ⢒⢳⠕⠒⠀⢎⠁⠀⠙⠯⣿⣿⠉⢉⠛⡬⢱⣃⠷⣖⢄⠘⠿⠀⢱⠀⠘⢁⠎⠀⠀⡜⢀⢸⠈⢣⣿⣿⣏⠙⠉⠝⣿⣿⡿⠀⠙⡇⢸⡆⠀⠐⣸⣟⠂⠀ ⠊⠈⠐⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢀⣽⣿⡀⣞⢀⣇⣈⣉⡶⣻⠜⢦⡀⠀⠈⠐⠢⡜⠀⣤⢠⠃⠸⢸⠀⢸⠉⣻⣿⣢⡆⣴⣿⡿⢷⠀⠀⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠋⠋⠂⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢖⠏⡄⠘⣩⠷⣧⣨⠿⣿⣟⣷⢈⠀⠽⢦⠀⠀⠀⢩⡻⣍⠎⠠⠀⡆⠀⢸⢡⣿⡟⢸⡇⣿⣿⡇⠀⡇⠀⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢴⢋⡎⠐⣬⣲⠽⢺⠧⢐⡉⠛⣿⢹⡏⡟⢯⡀⡌⢳⣄⣠⠗⠀⠀⠀⠉⠲⣲⢄⣿⣿⣟⡷⣾⣻⣽⡏⣷⡀⢹⡄⡇⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠈⠯⠜⠚⠉⠀⠀⢸⠘⢠⠂⡅⢻⣎⣿⢹⡄⠙⢦⣩⣯⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠐⣽⡿⣾⣽⣳⣟⣾⢯⣼⡷⡀⠳⡅⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣈⣂⢱⢈⣙⣿⢧⠟⢇⠀⠙⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣟⣿⣳⢯⣷⣻⢾⣮⢩⣇⠙⠒⠃⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⢀⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣏⣍⣫⣤⣦⣭⣶⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⣠⣂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡟⠛⢾⠟⠯⡿⠂⢉⠀⠀⠀⠁⣿⠀⠀⡉⡮⠾⠥ ⠀⡨⢛⢔⠒⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⡿⢷⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣦⣄⡁⠀⠈⠔⠏⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠀⡈⠀⡸⠁⠘⡌⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠉⠂ ⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠛⠻⠯⠿⠿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⢣⣠⢋⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠒⢋⠉⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

fun fact! most school computers have this site unblocked. typing this at historyyy!!!

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣾⡷⠶⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠿⣶⣶⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⠟⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠾⠟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠳⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠂⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⣠⣿⠋⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⢀⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠘⠻⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⡛⢿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⡤⠈⠻⠿⣷⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣦⣴⣴⡆⢀⣠⣶⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢃⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⠿⢶⣤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣉⣀⣤⣤⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠻⠿⠿⠶⠶⠶⠾⢿⣿⡛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣴⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⠗⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣴⠾⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣶⣀⠀⢀⣤⣶⠾⠿⠛⠶⠿⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⣾⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣆⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣿⡟⢶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢷⣦⣀⣀⣴⠟⠋⢩⣉⠻⣿⡆⠀⢀⣾⣛⣹⡍⠉⠛⠿⠟⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠻⣷⡀⣿⡟⠙⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡟⢿⣶⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡏⡀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠿⣶⣦⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠀⠹⣧⣀⠀⢀⣠⣴⡾⠟⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣿⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⠀⠈⠙⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⢿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⢰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠙⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠹⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⠟⠉⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢦⣤⣄⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠸⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⣀⣀⠀⣀⣀⣶⠏⠀⠀⠈⠻⠷⠶⣶⡾⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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⢀⠂⢀⠠⠀⡀⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⡀⠆⢠⠐⠠⡐⠄⠂⡔⢠⠂⢆⠒⡐⢂⠲⣀⠣⢆⠱⡌⠦⡑⢎⠲⡑⣎⡱⢣⡝⣬⠳⣙⣎⡳⢭⡳⣝ ⠀⡈⠀⠠⠀⠄⡀⠁⡈⠄⢁⠂⡐⠈⠄⠨⠐⠠⠌⠡⠐⢂⠡⠊⠔⡡⢊⠔⡨⠑⡌⠱⣈⠖⡩⢌⢣⠓⡴⢱⢃⡞⡔⣫⠕⣎⢳⡭⢳⣎ ⠀⠄⠁⠐⡀⠂⡀⠂⠠⠐⢀⠂⠄⠡⢈⠂⡁⠢⢁⠡⠉⢄⠢⢉⢂⠱⢈⠆⡡⢃⠜⡡⢒⡘⠴⡉⢦⡙⠴⣉⢎⠼⣘⢥⡛⣬⢓⡞⡳⣎ ⠀⡈⠀⠐⡀⠄⠐⠀⡁⠐⢀⠐⠈⡐⠠⠐⠠⢁⠂⢂⠉⠄⠢⠌⠄⡊⠔⡨⢐⠡⡊⠔⣡⠘⠴⡑⢢⠜⡱⢌⢎⠲⣩⠲⣍⠶⣩⢞⡱⣭ ⠀⠐⠀⠠⠀⠀⠌⠀⠄⠐⠠⠀⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⠠⡁⢂⠉⠤⢁⠌⡠⢁⠆⡡⠌⢢⠑⡌⠤⡉⠦⡉⢦⢉⠖⡩⢌⢧⢡⡓⡼⣸⡑⢮⡕⢧ ⠀⢁⠀⠀⠄⠂⠈⠀⡈⠀⠄⡁⠄⠈⠄⠂⡈⠄⡐⠠⢁⠂⠤⠈⠄⢃⠰⢀⢃⠢⢡⠘⠤⡑⢢⠑⣂⢃⠎⡱⢊⢆⡣⢜⠲⣡⢞⡱⢎⡳ ⠀⠂⠀⠈⠀⠀⠂⠁⠀⠁⢀⠠⠀⡁⢀⠂⠠⠐⠠⣔⠤⣈⠄⣅⠊⠧⠰⠈⢤⢜⡀⠎⡰⢁⠣⡘⢤⠩⡬⢡⠃⣎⠴⣉⠮⣑⢮⡱⢫⠵ ⠀⠄⠀⠀⠂⠀⠁⠀⠈⠀⠂⠀⠄⠐⠀⡀⢁⣰⣽⣿⣿⣾⣿⡏⠐⢎⢷⣛⢮⣿⣆⠆⡑⠌⢢⢑⠂⢠⣿⣳⢿⣿⢃⢇⡚⢥⠲⡍⢧⡛ ⠀⡀⠀⠁⠀⠈⠄⠈⢀⠈⠀⠌⠀⠂⠀⠄⢜⣾⣿⡿⣟⣿⣿⡇⠌⡈⢎⢟⡾⣜⣿⣖⠈⢆⢡⠆⢠⣿⣳⢯⡟⢦⡉⢦⡙⡌⢧⡙⢦⡹ ⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⡀⠐⠀⠀⠂⢁⣪⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠐⠠⠘⢌⢷⡝⡾⣽⣎⢄⡞⢠⣿⣳⢿⣿⠜⢤⠓⣢⢑⡚⢴⡙⢦⡓ ⠀⠁⠀⠄⠀⠠⠀⠠⠁⠀⠀⠀⠐⠠⣳⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡇⠁⠆⡁⢊⢌⢿⣱⢻⣽⣼⢣⣿⣳⢯⣟⠢⣉⠦⡑⢆⠣⡜⡢⢝⡢⢝ ⠀⠂⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⡐⣽⣿⡿⣽⣿⡟⣿⣿⣽⣿⡇⠈⠄⡐⠠⠈⢎⢯⡗⡾⣯⡟⣧⢿⡟⢠⠃⡔⢢⡑⡊⡕⢬⡑⢎⡜⣡ ⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠐⢔⣾⣿⢿⣽⣿⠟⢸⣿⣿⡿⣿⡇⠈⠐⢀⠡⠈⠌⠎⢯⣳⢧⢿⣹⡟⠋⡄⠣⢌⡡⢂⡕⠌⣆⢩⠒⡜⠴ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⢀⢬⣿⡿⣽⣻⣿⠏⠀⢸⣿⣿⢿⣿⡇⠀⠌⠀⡐⠀⠂⡼⢈⣷⢫⣟⣾⡄⡃⠌⢡⠂⡔⢡⠘⣌⠰⢊⡱⡘⢥ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣲⣿⢯⣿⣽⣿⠃⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠁⠀⠁⡼⢁⣾⡱⣏⢾⡹⣿⡄⡘⢠⠘⢄⠃⡜⢠⠉⡆⢱⡘⢆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣽⢿⣽⣻⣾⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⡞⣿⣷⣿⣿⣷⣶⠈⠀⠈⣰⢁⡾⢥⡻⣼⢧⡻⡽⣿⣄⠢⠘⢠⠊⢄⠣⡘⡘⠤⡘⢆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⣯⣞⡷⣞⡷⣾⣳⢿⣞⣷⣿⣻⣾⢿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣬⢃⢮⡝⢮⣳⠛⡞⣽⢳⡽⣿⡄⡁⠆⡘⢄⠣⠰⡑⡌⡱⢊ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠼⠽⠾⠽⠿⠷⠯⠿⠽⢷⣿⣽⣯⣿⡿⠿⠀⣰⣏⢮⡓⣞⣹⠃⠠⠘⡜⣿⢼⣹⢿⡔⢨⡐⢌⢒⡡⢜⡰⢡⢣ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⢿⣿⡇⢀⢸⣟⢎⢧⡹⣼⠋⢄⢂⠡⡙⡜⡷⣭⣻⢿⡤⡑⢎⢦⡱⢎⡴⣋⠶ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄⢦⡐⢦⡱⠎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⡟⢮⡞⣦⣽⣷⣿⣾⣾⣷⣿⣾⡹⣶⢯⡿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣽⣿⣾⣽⣻ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠈⠀⠠⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⢉⠉⢉⠉⠉⠌⠡⢉⠩⠉⢍⠩⡙⠍⢏⡹⠎⡵⢊⡗ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⡀⠀⠐⠀⠀⢀⠀⠄⠐⠀⠀⠂⢈⠠⠐⠀⡈⠀⠄⠂⠠⢁⠈⡐⢀⠂⡉⠄⠃⡌⠸⡀⠦⡑⡌⢣⠜ ⠀⡁⠀⠄⠐⠀⠐⠀⠐⠀⠂⠀⠄⠀⡐⠠⠀⠂⠄⠠⠐⢀⠂⠡⠐⢀⠂⠄⠡⢀⡁⢂⠁⡂⠤⢈⠔⢂⠡⢒⠨⠡⢌⠱⡈⢆⠱⣈⠇⢎ ⠐⠠⠀⠂⠄⡈⠠⠈⠄⡐⠠⠁⠄⠂⠄⠠⢁⠂⠔⠠⢁⠂⠌⡐⠈⢄⠂⢌⠰⢠⠐⠤⡈⠔⡨⠐⣌⢢⣑⣌⣒⣡⢎⣢⣑⣎⣱⣌⣚⡌ ⢂⣁⠂⡁⠂⠄⡡⠌⡐⢀⠂⠡⢈⡐⢈⢁⠂⠌⠄⢃⠰⢈⠰⡀⢃⠢⢌⠂⡄⢃⠌⡂⢅⢢⢁⢣⢘⡓⡛⣒⠛⡚⢛⡛⡹⢛⡛⣚⢻⡘

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⢩⡓⣜⢢⢓⡬⣙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⣍⠞⣡⠳⣘⢆⢏⡼⠰⣍⠳⣤⢋⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡥⣋⠦⡛⣔⢫⡓⡎⢞⠴⣋⠖⣭⠢⡝⢪⠝⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡟⠯⣍⢣⠖⣱⠢⢏⡴⢃⡎⢭⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢱⢪⢕⡪⢵⣩⠲⣍⢎⠵⣋⡜⢦⠫⣔⠫⣜⠣⡝⣤⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⡙⢦⠛⣬⢓⡬⢣⠞⣥⠛⣬⠲⣍⡜⢣⡜⢣⡚⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠫⡜⢣⢣⠞⣘⠇⣮⠱⢎⢎⠳⡬⢜⡣⢝⢢⡛⣤⠛⡜⡴⢫⡝⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣏⠲⡍⣎⢣⣛⢤⣋⠶⣩⠞⣢⢛⡤⢳⠬⡜⢣⡜⢣⡙⣦⡛⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⡰⣋⡜⣫⢧⡛⣬⡙⢦⡙⣎⢎⠧⣱⢣⢚⢭⠲⡱⢆⡛⡜⡜⡹⢾⣽⢿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣏⡜⢦⠛⡴⣉⢮⠱⣎⠴⣋⢦⡙⢦⠳⡸⢥⠳⣉⢧⠚⣥⠹⡔⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⡿⢏⡲⢥⠓⡼⢱⢮⡱⢆⡝⢦⢹⡰⢎⡣⡕⢎⡭⠲⣍⠵⢪⡱⠭⣜⠱⣋⠽⣺⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⠳⣬⢙⡎⣝⠲⣍⠲⣍⠦⣓⡱⢎⡜⡣⣍⡓⢮⡱⢍⡲⣙⠆⣏⠲⣅⡛⣼⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡙⢦⢓⡎⡝⡬⢓⡬⢓⡎⡜⢮⡱⠜⣆⠳⡜⢣⡜⢳⡌⢞⣡⠳⣍⢲⡙⡬⢓⠦⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠏⣎⠳⣔⢫⡔⢎⡳⢜⢣⠎⡵⢣⡜⢎⡲⢳⡘⣬⢣⠜⣣⠱⣍⠺⣌⢳⠸⡔⢎⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⡿⢥⢫⠜⣦⢹⡜⣡⢏⡼⢣⢎⡙⢦⡱⢋⡬⡓⣍⠇⣞⡡⢞⡡⢎⡵⢊⡕⣎⡱⢋⡖⢭⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⢏⡼⢌⡳⣌⡳⣜⢣⡜⣭⠲⣙⡒⠧⡜⣣⢱⢣⠹⡤⢣⢛⡔⡫⣔⢫⡔⢫⡱⢎⢣⢻⣿⣿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⡿⣋⠞⣔⠫⣔⢣⠎⣕⠪⡖⣭⢊⡝⢆⡳⢍⡲⢍⡲⢍⢦⡙⢦⡙⣎⠴⣋⠴⣊⡕⢫⢜⢢⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡟⣬⠲⣉⠶⣡⠳⣘⠖⡼⡰⣙⠦⣍⠳⣱⢊⡵⢊⢧⣙⢣⢣⣚⠱⣌⠇⣞⣡⢓⢎⡣⡝⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⢇⡣⡝⣌⡳⣌⠧⡛⣌⢳⡱⢆⡏⡜⢎⡖⢭⠲⣍⠲⣍⢦⡙⢦⡹⢤⠛⣌⢇⢇⡺⣑⠮⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢼⣿⣿⣿⡓⢦⡹⣌⠳⣌⠳⡍⡞⣔⢣⡳⢜⠬⣓⢥⡚⠴⣋⠖⣬⢃⠧⡜⢣⢎⡹⠴⣘⠮⡜⢲⢩⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⢏⡲⢱⢚⣌⠳⣌⠳⣍⡜⢦⡓⢮⠜⡜⣣⠜⣎⠵⣊⡵⢊⢦⡙⢦⠓⣎⡝⠬⢎⡎⢵⡸⢜⡡⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣧⡙⢦⡱⢎⡳⣌⢳⡩⢖⢬⢣⡕⢎⡣⣍⢖⣩⠳⣬⠹⢤⣋⠮⣱⢋⢦⡹⣜⡡⢞⣘⢣⢣⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⢊⡵⢩⠖⣬⠳⣌⠳⡬⢜⠦⣙⠮⡹⢜⡢⡝⢬⢓⡼⢌⣋⢦⡙⣎⡹⢔⡪⢝⡢⢝⣢⠓⣎⡱⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⢡⠞⣡⠝⣮⠱⡜⣢⠝⡜⣪⠱⢎⡣⡕⢎⡺⡰⡹⣐⠏⢶⢨⡓⢆⡏⢦⡱⢎⡜⣱⢪⠱⣆⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⡇⡏⡴⢋⡜⢦⠛⣔⢫⡔⡫⡜⣥⠳⣍⠶⣱⢊⠗⡮⢔⡫⣔⢣⢞⡰⢥⠫⣔⢫⡜⣱⢢⠛⡴⣃⣿⣿⣿⣟⢀⣿⣿⣿⡟⡜⣪⢥⡛⢦⠛⡴⢃⠾⡱⣃⠟⣬⠱⣎⢣⡕⣣⠵⣉⢞⡡⢗⡜⣣⠜⣣⠜⣦⢹⠰⣃⢯⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠑⢮⠑⢫⡜⢪⡝⢬⠲⡜⢡⠳⡌⠳⡜⠊⠖⣭⠚⢬⢣⡕⢪⡜⣦⠙⢦⠛⣤⠳⣬⠑⢮⠙⢲⣥⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡜⠱⠲⣬⠙⢮⠙⠲⡍⠞⠱⣬⠙⡆⢯⡔⠣⡞⡔⢣⡍⢶⠉⠎⡖⢥⠛⣤⠛⣤⢣⠛⢬⠲⣍⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣏⠳⡤⣙⢦⠱⣆⠱⢆⡲⢌⡭⢲⡘⢦⡜⣹⠒⣤⠛⡤⢆⠵⣋⠴⣨⠞⣰⠣⣌⢦⣘⡚⠴⣋⠞⣥⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣘⠵⢢⢣⢛⡤⣙⠦⡸⢜⡣⢆⢧⡘⢦⡘⢦⠓⡜⡤⣓⠦⣛⢤⠱⢆⡲⢌⠶⣨⢚⡜⡤⢦⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⡏⡵⢊⡵⢊⡗⡬⢋⡎⡵⣊⢖⡣⡝⢦⡹⣔⢫⡔⣫⠜⢮⡱⢎⡱⣣⢚⠥⡳⣘⢦⢲⣉⠷⢬⡙⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⡓⢎⢧⡙⢦⡓⡥⢛⡌⢧⡱⣋⢦⡙⣦⡙⡎⡽⢬⠱⣎⡱⢎⡬⣋⠶⣉⠞⣬⠱⣎⢲⠱⢦⣹⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣇⠳⣍⢲⢋⡼⣘⢣⡜⢥⠓⣎⡱⣍⠖⡳⢌⡣⣜⣡⠛⢦⡹⢬⠱⡥⢋⢮⠱⡥⢎⡣⡜⢎⡖⣩⢞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢦⡙⣎⢲⡙⢦⡹⢜⡱⢪⠕⣣⢣⠎⣝⢢⡓⣍⠶⣉⠳⡜⠴⣋⠴⣃⢧⠹⣘⢆⠯⣰⢋⡵⢊⣿⣿⣿⣿⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡇⢯⡰⣋⠞⡴⢃⠧⢎⣣⢛⡤⢳⣌⠻⣌⠧⡱⢆⣣⠛⢦⡓⢎⡳⢭⡙⢦⢛⠴⣋⠴⡹⡌⠶⣑⠎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣢⠝⣰⢣⠞⣡⢳⢩⡜⡣⡝⣢⠇⢯⡘⢧⡚⣜⢲⡉⠷⣩⠳⣌⠳⡜⡬⢓⡍⣎⢞⡡⢞⡰⢻⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣏⠲⢥⡙⣎⢕⡫⢜⡣⡜⢦⡙⡖⣬⠳⣌⠳⣍⠶⣡⢛⢦⡙⠮⣔⡣⢞⡡⢎⡳⢌⡳⢥⡹⢱⣊⢭⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡱⢜⢪⢥⣋⢞⡡⢎⡣⣜⡱⡜⣡⠞⣡⠝⣆⠳⡜⣢⠝⡱⢥⠳⣌⠳⡥⣙⠮⣼⡘⢦⡙⢦⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡧⣙⢦⡹⢌⠶⣉⠶⣡⠛⣦⠹⡜⣢⢛⡬⢳⡘⡖⢥⣋⢦⡙⡳⢬⡓⣎⠵⣫⢔⠫⡕⡎⢖⡣⡜⢆⡫⢝⠿⢿⡛⢥⡓⠭⢎⠶⣘⢦⡙⣎⡱⢎⡖⡹⢶⡙⢦⢻⢬⡓⡹⢆⢯⡱⢎⠳⣌⠳⡜⣡⠞⣤⠛⡴⣙⠲⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡗⢬⡒⡵⣋⠼⡱⢎⡥⢛⡴⢋⠶⣩⠳⣜⠣⡕⣎⢣⡜⣢⠝⣜⢣⡜⡬⢓⡼⢨⡓⢭⠜⣣⠜⣥⠫⣜⢪⡙⢦⡙⢦⢍⡛⡬⢓⡭⢲⠱⡜⢬⡓⠼⣑⢣⡝⢪⡕⣪⢜⡱⢋⠶⡱⣋⠷⣌⢳⡹⢤⡛⣔⢫⡒⣍⢞⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣏⠲⣉⠶⣉⠶⣙⠦⣙⢎⡖⡫⢎⡵⣙⢆⡛⡜⡴⢃⡞⡔⣫⠜⡲⢬⡱⢋⡴⢣⡙⣎⡱⢣⠞⣰⠹⣤⠣⣝⢢⠝⣪⠜⡼⡡⢏⡴⢋⡵⢊⡇⢞⡱⡩⢖⡜⣣⢜⠲⣌⢣⠏⡼⠱⡜⣢⢍⡖⣙⠮⡵⢪⡱⢜⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣠⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡧⢹⢌⡻⢌⡣⡝⢬⣃⠞⡼⣱⠩⢖⡩⢎⡼⡑⣎⢳⡸⣑⢎⡱⣙⠦⣱⣋⣴⣧⣵⣜⣌⣓⠮⣥⠓⣦⡙⢦⡙⢮⡑⢾⣡⠓⡧⡜⢣⡜⢣⡚⡥⢣⢝⡲⣬⣷⣬⣷⣬⣧⣞⣥⡛⡴⢃⠮⣜⣡⢳⡜⢣⡕⠮⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣇⣋⢦⠳⣍⢲⡙⠶⣨⢳⡱⢣⡛⣬⠓⣍⢲⡹⣰⢣⢓⡜⣪⣕⣮⣶⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣯⡔⢭⡒⢭⠲⣙⢦⢣⠟⡰⡍⣇⠺⣥⢣⣝⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣓⠲⣌⢣⠞⣡⠞⡱⢎⡛⢿⠻⣟⢻⡛⠿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡇⡜⢦⢛⢬⡒⣭⢃⡳⢆⡝⡣⡕⢦⡛⣌⢧⢲⡑⣎⢧⣚⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡩⢎⢳⡱⢎⡧⣋⠵⡚⣌⠳⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠧⣚⢥⡚⢥⣋⡜⢣⡝⣰⠣⣍⡛⢼⠰⣃⢮⣙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡳⣘⠣⢏⡖⣱⢪⡱⢥⠫⣜⡱⢎⡕⠺⣜⢊⡖⡍⣎⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣌⢣⡜⢣⡓⢭⢲⠹⣌⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡖⣩⠦⡹⢶⡱⢎⠧⡜⣥⢳⡎⣜⢣⡝⣘⠦⢎⡹⣒⠾⣙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡕⡪⠝⡮⣔⠣⡖⡱⢎⡳⢬⡱⢎⡜⡳⣌⠳⡜⡜⢦⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣇⠧⡚⡥⢛⡜⢦⢋⣼⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⣤⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣷⢡⠞⣱⢣⡝⢎⡳⣙⢦⠣⡝⡬⢓⡼⡑⣎⢣⡕⢎⡱⣍⡚⣍⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⢇⡭⢓⡱⢎⡱⢭⠱⣎⡱⢣⡕⠮⣜⡱⢎⢣⠳⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣷⣿⣿⣿⣶⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⡲⣙⢬⡓⡜⢮⡹⣾⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡶⠂⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⡣⢞⣡⠳⣘⠧⣱⢩⠲⣙⢬⡱⢋⡴⡙⡴⢣⢎⢣⢳⡰⢍⡲⢃⡎⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⢎⠲⣍⠞⣥⡙⢦⢫⠴⣩⠳⣌⠳⡬⡱⢎⡣⡝⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⢣⠵⢮⠱⢎⡣⣟⣼⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠳⣌⠳⣍⠞⣡⢎⡳⢩⢲⣉⠗⣸⠱⣃⠯⣌⠳⢆⡽⢨⡕⢫⢜⢣⡛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣾⣿⣿⣯⢎⢳⡘⡞⣤⡙⢦⢣⢣⢇⡳⣌⢳⢱⢫⡜⣱⢊⠧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡿⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡏⢧⡚⢥⡛⣬⡑⠮⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡎⢵⢊⡳⢬⡛⣤⠳⣘⢣⢳⡘⢮⠥⣓⡍⠶⣉⢞⡱⢎⠧⡜⣣⢎⢣⡜⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⡷⣊⠵⣊⡝⣤⡙⢦⢋⢦⢋⠶⣉⠶⣩⢖⡹⢔⠫⡜⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⡙⢦⡙⢦⢳⡰⢍⡣⢧⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣾⣿⣿⣿⡟⡜⣪⠱⢎⡳⡜⡴⣙⢬⢣⢇⢞⡡⢏⡲⢜⢣⡍⡖⣩⢎⠳⣱⠦⣙⠦⣍⠵⢫⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⡷⣉⠶⡑⢾⢤⡙⡎⡵⢊⡝⢎⡥⢳⡡⢎⡵⣋⠵⡩⢖⡹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣀⡀⣀⣀⢀⣠⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣟⢣⠞⣡⠞⣡⠳⣌⢇⡳⢦⡙⡜⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣄⣠⣤⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⢋⡼⢡⢇⡛⣬⠱⢳⡜⡜⣪⢜⣊⠞⣬⢃⢗⡪⣃⢞⡡⢇⣎⠳⣡⢞⡡⢞⡌⡞⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⠧⣍⠶⡙⣎⠶⣉⠶⣉⠳⣌⡳⢜⠣⡝⠮⡴⣙⠎⡵⡩⠖⣍⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢏⡜⢦⠛⣤⠛⣥⠛⡜⢮⡱⢦⡙⡜⢣⡛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⢩⠖⣩⠖⡭⣒⢭⠲⡍⢧⡜⡜⣡⠞⡜⣚⢤⣋⠶⣡⢍⠶⣩⠖⡬⡓⡵⣊⠵⢪⡜⡜⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⠳⣌⠶⣙⠼⣣⢍⠶⣉⠳⣬⠱⢎⢳⡉⠷⣘⢥⡚⢥⣓⡹⢌⡳⢬⡙⣛⠿⢿⣿⣿⡿⡿⢿⡛⢯⡑⠞⣌⠞⣢⢛⡴⢋⡴⢋⡼⠱⣜⢢⡝⡸⢣⡱⠦⣍⢛⡻⢻⠟⡿⣛⠟⣻⢩⢓⡼⡑⢮⡙⢦⡙⢶⡱⣊⢗⡩⢖⡱⢎⡱⢎⡱⣍⢲⣉⠞⡴⡩⠖⣥⢋⡖⡹⢔⡣⣍⠧⡜⡜⣥⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⡳⣘⠖⣩⢞⡴⡩⢎⡱⣋⠴⣋⢮⡑⣎⢳⠩⡖⣩⠖⣱⠪⡕⢎⡕⢎⡱⢎⣣⢶⡦⣱⣝⣢⠝⣢⠝⣩⢎⡞⣡⢏⡲⢍⡲⢍⡲⡹⢤⡓⣬⠓⣥⢣⠳⡌⣇⠳⣭⣿⣶⣥⣿⡴⡩⢖⡲⣙⠦⣙⢦⡹⢆⢧⡱⢪⡱⢎⡱⢎⡱⣋⠶⡩⢖⡩⢞⠴⣩⠝⣢⢳⠸⣥⠳⡸⢔⡣⢝⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⡷⣑⠮⡱⢎⡵⡙⣬⠱⢎⣱⠣⢖⣩⠖⣩⢣⢓⣥⢚⠥⣳⢙⡮⢜⢣⡙⢦⡱⢎⡴⢣⣿⣿⡜⣡⠞⣡⠞⡸⢥⢋⠶⣉⠶⡩⢖⡱⣃⠞⡴⢋⢦⠣⢏⡲⣉⢞⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⣙⢥⠫⡜⢧⣙⠲⢆⡣⢏⢆⡳⢥⠓⣎⠵⣊⠵⣊⠶⣙⢬⡱⢎⢳⡸⢜⡡⢇⢯⡰⢣⢝⡢⢝⣪⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⡳⢍⠾⣰⡙⢶⡙⡎⢶⡙⣎⠴⣋⢖⡩⢎⡴⢋⡼⢡⠞⣌⠧⢣⡛⣔⢣⠞⣰⢫⣿⣿⣿⣷⣪⠕⢮⡱⢋⡬⢣⡝⢮⠵⣣⠳⣬⢙⡲⢍⡎⢳⣉⢖⣹⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠧⣍⢲⡙⡼⣃⢮⡙⡎⢵⡊⢞⠴⡩⠞⣌⠶⣉⠶⣍⠶⣉⠶⣱⢊⢧⡚⣬⠱⣋⠦⣓⠭⢦⣙⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⢎⡵⣡⠞⢦⡹⢜⡣⢞⡰⡍⣖⢪⡱⢃⣎⠳⣌⢇⡫⡜⢭⢣⡝⢬⠲⣙⠦⣍⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡲⣑⢫⡔⣣⢎⡓⣎⢥⠳⣌⠳⣌⢳⡘⢧⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣡⠳⡌⣇⠞⣡⠏⣦⠓⣭⢒⢭⡚⣜⡱⡹⢌⠶⣉⢞⡰⡹⡌⢧⢣⢏⡲⡱⣌⢳⡡⢳⢌⡳⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡜⢧⡚⣥⢓⡣⢝⡪⢵⡘⢦⢣⡕⢫⡔⢫⡔⢮⡑⣎⠳⡜⣸⢣⡝⢢⠳⣌⠞⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣧⡜⢲⠬⣱⢊⠶⣉⠶⣩⢒⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣩⠞⣡⠳⣉⢦⠛⡴⣋⢖⡹⢤⣋⠦⣓⠬⣓⢍⣎⢣⡍⠶⡱⢥⠛⡴⢃⢮⢱⡱⢜⡢⣍⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣸⠔⣣⡙⢦⡙⢦⡙⡇⢧⢚⠧⣜⢣⢞⢢⡝⣰⢋⡼⢡⠞⣬⢇⢯⡰⢋⡵⣉⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣵⣎⣧⣽⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⡅⣏⠦⣙⢦⡹⡜⣬⠛⡴⢃⡞⣘⠖⡬⣓⠬⣓⡜⢪⡔⣣⢚⡱⡍⢶⡙⣬⣋⣖⣣⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣝⢦⡙⢦⡹⢸⡑⣎⠳⣌⡓⢎⡳⠜⡦⢋⠶⣉⠾⡰⢎⡳⣘⢣⠖⣩⢚⢦⡙⡻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡛⣇⠲⢭⢜⡢⡝⢦⢣⡳⢜⢆⡛⣬⠓⣬⢣⢛⡵⢌⡳⠬⣜⣣⡜⣦⣭⣶⣽⣷⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣧⣣⣙⡴⢋⡴⡙⣎⠴⢫⡜⡍⢮⣑⢣⡝⡬⡱⢥⠓⡮⢅⡏⢦⣙⢲⡱⢬⣙⠻⣟⡿⠿⣿⠻⣟⠫⣝⡰⢋⡵⢌⢏⣚⠦⣓⡜⣣⢇⡹⢜⢪⡱⢆⡛⣤⢣⠏⡴⢋⡴⢋⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣽⣤⣏⡵⣘⠼⣡⠎⡵⣘⠲⣍⠶⡹⣜⢪⠜⣆⠳⣌⣶⣿⣼⣿⣿⣷⡳⢌⠷⣌⠳⢦⣍⠳⣜⠺⣌⠧⢫⠴⣙⠲⣌⡓⢮⡑⢮⠜⡱⢆⣣⠛⣌⠳⣌⢏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣶⣷⣿⣶⣷⣷⣾⣷⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠧⣹⡘⢦⣛⠲⣌⠳⣌⡛⣤⢋⢧⢋⡼⡑⣎⠼⡑⣎⢣⠞⣙⠮⣔⢫⠜⣣⢎⡚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠆⡑⠠⠚⢻⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢧⠜⣣⠝⣚⣌⠳⡜⡸⡔⣋⢦⢫⠴⣙⢤⠫⡕⣎⡱⢎⠵⡚⣤⢋⢮⡑⢮⡘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡔⠡⡘⠠⠉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠙⠙⠉⠛⠉⠉⠙⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠲⣙⠦⡹⠶⡌⢧⠭⣑⠮⣑⣋⢦⢋⡼⢌⡳⣉⢦⠓⣎⢣⡝⢤⣋⢦⡙⢦⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄⢃⠡⢂⠜⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣫⢜⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⡿⢃⠰⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢙⢦⠹⣑⠯⡜⢎⡼⡑⢮⡑⣎⠶⣉⠶⣉⠶⣉⠶⣙⢬⠲⡜⢣⠞⡤⢛⡴⢩⣿⣿⣿⣿⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣁⠎⡘⢢⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠃⢄⠂⣥⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢌⡎⠧⣍⢞⡹⡜⠴⣙⠦⡹⢤⡓⡍⢶⡩⢖⡩⢖⡩⠖⣍⢺⡑⢮⣑⢫⡔⣯⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣽⢤⡿⠿⠿⡟⢯⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⠡⢈⠤⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⢌⡳⢜⣪⡕⣎⠳⡍⠶⡙⢦⡙⡼⢡⡛⣬⠱⢎⡱⢫⡌⢇⡞⣡⠞⣢⢗⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠱⡈⡐⣉⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⢁⠒⠤⢈⠉⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣔⠣⣼⣿⣿⣿⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣧⠱⢎⢦⡙⡬⢳⣉⠗⣙⠦⡹⢔⡣⣓⠦⡛⣬⠱⣣⠞⣡⠞⣡⣞⡵⣾⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠄⠡⢄⢻⣽⠻⠟⡿⡿⠟⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣾⣬⡰⣌⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢛⡭⣶⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢜⡢⡝⠴⣋⠼⢪⠥⡛⣌⠧⡱⢎⡱⢳⡌⣓⠦⣙⠦⣙⢆⢿⣾⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⠟⡡⠛⣻⣿⣿⣄⠃⢄⣮⣿⣶⣦⣝⡛⢻⣷⣾⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠃⠛⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣾⠰⡍⢣⡝⢸⢣⢫⡕⢮⡜⠱⣭⠸⠑⢮⠱⡎⠱⡎⣵⡎⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡏⢤⡁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣼⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡈⢍⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡝⣪⠱⡍⣎⠎⡵⢢⣍⠳⣌⢣⡝⡆⢧⢚⡥⢚⣥⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⣉⢿⣿⣿⣧⡑⢂⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣆⡀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡛⡜⡴⢋⡜⣣⢌⡳⣌⠧⡜⠼⣑⠮⣼⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠂⡐⣿⣿⣿⣇⠉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⠉⡔⢡⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣉⡙⡻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣎⣳⢸⢡⠞⡔⠮⡜⡜⣣⣳⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠟⠟⠛⠋⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣗⣣⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣜⢣⢈⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣽⣦⣘⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣭⣷⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⡐⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡃⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⡐⢸⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠰⣹⣿⣿⡏⠉⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡁⠜⡘⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡡⠌⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡟⠄⢢⣙⡞⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⠰⡐⡀⢿⣿⣿⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⣿⣿⣟⠈⡄⢸⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⣿⣿⣿⠀⡑⠠⢹⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⡧⢈⠄⢃⢎⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣿⣿⣿⠀⠌⣁⠂⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⡗⠠⠊⢄⠪⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⠀⢊⠄⠂⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠆⡉⠄⡘⣿⣿⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠌⡄⠃⢌⠻⠿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⠿⡿⠿⢋⠰⠈⠤⢡⡘⣿⣿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣿⣿⣿⠀⢊⠄⡉⠄⢒⠠⡐⠌⡐⠡⠌⡠⢀⠌⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡛⡋⠍⡉⢉⠰⢀⠡⠄⠊⡄⢡⠘⡀⠆⣉⠰⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⣿⣿⣿⠈⢄⠢⢁⠜⡀⢒⠠⠊⢄⡑⢂⠁⠆⡊⠗⢸⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣇⠂⡌⠱⡌⠄⢃⠰⢈⠰⢈⠡⠐⡂⠔⡁⠒⡀⠆⣥⣿⣿⣿⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⢀⠆⣂⠡⢂⠘⡀⠆⡉⢄⠰⠈⡌⠐⢡⢨⣼⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣃⡌⡱⢈⠰⢈⠰⠈⠄⢃⠰⠈⠄⢃⣔⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣚⣤⣃⣤⣡⣌⣴⣈⣦⣲⣵⣲⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⢿⠿⠿⠏⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⠿⠛⠿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⢀⣠⣀⢀⣀⡀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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

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

អានស្រីសុំ ⚠️

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-ˋˏ ༻💙༺ ˎˊ-🩵 4 RoomЧ4️⃣

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠿⢿⡛⢟⠻⡙⣍⠣⠜⡰⢠⠊⡔⣉⠒⡬⠱⢌⢎⡱⢌⡲⢥⡩⢖⡱⡩⢎⠵⣩⢏⡵⢫⡜⣏⢾⡱⣏⠷⣽⣺⠽⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡛⢫⠙⡱⢌⠢⢌⠒⠤⡘⡌⢣⡑⢆⡩⢒⢡⢃⡱⢈⠤⡉⠔⡡⢊⠤⠓⣌⠲⣡⠚⡤⢣⢱⠩⡎⢵⢪⡜⣣⠝⣜⣎⠷⣭⡻⣖⢯⣟⣧⣟⡾⣷⣻⣷⣟⡾⣹⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⠻⣍⠶⡱⡘⡄⢣⠰⣈⠒⡌⡘⠤⡑⢌⡡⠜⡰⢐⡉⢆⠢⠔⣃⠢⠑⡌⡰⡁⢎⠱⡠⠓⠤⢓⡌⢣⢎⡱⢊⢇⣣⠚⡥⣛⠼⣘⡻⢶⣹⠽⣾⣹⢶⣯⣟⣿⣽⣳⣯⣟⣷⡹⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡿⣭⣓⢎⠷⣘⠶⣡⠓⣌⢡⠒⡄⢣⢐⠡⢆⡑⢢⠐⣡⠒⡥⡘⡄⢣⠚⠤⣁⠣⢌⠱⡘⢌⠒⡡⠍⡜⢢⠜⡡⢆⡱⢉⠖⢢⠹⣐⢣⡛⣬⢳⢏⡞⣟⣳⢯⣟⣶⣻⢾⣽⣷⣻⣞⢷⣻⣭⢻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣽⢳⢧⣋⠎⡱⢡⠒⡤⢋⡴⢃⠎⡴⢡⢎⡒⢤⡘⢄⠣⡔⣩⢒⡱⢌⢣⡙⡖⣄⠣⡌⢆⡑⣊⠜⣰⢩⣌⡱⣈⡑⢢⡐⢡⢊⡤⢓⡌⢦⡙⢦⣋⢾⡹⣯⣟⡿⣞⣷⣫⢿⡽⣾⢷⣯⡻⢶⡹⢶⣹⣷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣞⣯⢾⣱⣟⣶⣣⣳⣜⣳⣮⣝⢮⣱⣋⡶⣙⣦⡹⣌⢶⡘⣴⣋⠶⣩⢖⡹⣶⣌⡓⣜⢢⡵⣮⣝⢶⡳⢮⣵⣧⣟⣶⣽⣾⣳⣯⣷⣞⣧⣛⡶⣭⢶⣻⣗⣯⢿⣽⣾⣳⣯⣟⡿⣯⣷⣟⣧⢟⣧⣋⢿⣧⠀⠀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣽⣾⣷⣿⣶⣏⡞⣡⢎⡷⣽⣾⣽⣾⣯⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣳⢯⣟⣷⣻⣞⣯⡷⣿⣻⣷⢿⣻⣽⣾⣽⣞⣯⢶⣭⣛⣿⣧⡀ ⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⡜⣧⠻⣜⡳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣾⣻⡷⣯⢿⣽⢿⣟⣿⣿⣯⣷⢿⣾⣟⡾⣯⢶⣻⣼⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢧⡛⠴⢋⠖⣹⢞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣻⣿⢿⣽⣻⣞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣻⣾⢿⡽⣯⣷⢿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⣴⣿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡧⢍⠢⡉⠜⣰⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⡿⣞⢷⣫⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⡿⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡙⢆⡱⠨⡜⡰⢯⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⢿⣝⡯⢷⣯⢿⣾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣾⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣻⢿⣽⣞⣿⣿⣳⣛⠦⣡⠓⡼⣹⢧⣟⣯⢷⣻⢾⣟⣿⡿⣯⡿⣯⢷⣻⡽⣞⣯⣷⣻⣟⡾⣳⢯⠿⡽⣞⡿⢮⣽⢳⣯⡿⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣞⣿⣽⣞⣧⡛⢮⡽⣛⣿⢻⣟⢿⡳⢿⣝⡳⢯⣻⢳⢯⣟⡾⣟⡿⣞⡷⣭⠲⣡⠛⡜⣧⢻⡼⡽⣞⡽⣻⠾⣽⣻⡗⣿⡹⣏⠷⡹⡝⣎⡳⡝⢮⢳⡍⣞⡹⢳⡝⣞⢯⡞⣽⣞⣿⡽⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⢺⠳⠈⠳⡝⡞⢶⡙⢧⣙⠳⣎⠻⡌⢇⡛⠖⣬⡱⢧⡞⢯⡓⢮⡽⣭⣟⣿⢿⣧⢛⠤⡛⡼⣜⣳⠿⣝⣧⡟⣵⣛⠶⣭⣛⢷⡻⣬⢳⣡⠙⢦⠱⣉⢎⠣⠞⣤⢋⠷⣘⢮⡳⣝⡾⣽⣷⣻⢞⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡹⢘⡦⠀⠀⢳⠱⣊⠵⣊⡝⢦⡙⢦⠱⣌⠳⡴⣩⠷⣎⠳⣌⢳⢎⡷⣫⣿⣟⡾⣝⡚⡤⢣⢧⣹⣛⣶⢻⣭⢗⡯⣛⠶⣭⠻⣜⢧⣛⡮⣝⡲⡌⢖⡩⢜⢢⡒⢭⡚⡴⢫⡜⣣⢟⡵⣿⣻⣏⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣫⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣯⡑⢬⣓⠀⠀⡌⡓⣌⠲⢡⠚⡴⣘⢢⢓⡬⡳⣝⡱⢫⡜⡱⢎⡳⢎⣳⢿⣷⢯⡻⣌⠳⡜⣡⢖⡣⣟⡼⣟⡾⣏⡾⣭⢳⢎⡽⢎⢧⡛⡼⢣⢳⡹⡸⢜⡜⣢⠝⣢⠝⣒⢧⡚⣵⢫⣿⣿⣟⡾⣹⣾⢿⣿⣟⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣾⣿⣿⣟⡳⡜⣰⢏⡖⠠⢎⡵⢢⡙⢢⢍⠲⣡⠞⣘⠶⣙⢦⡹⢥⡚⡱⣋⠶⣩⢞⣿⣯⣟⡱⢌⠳⡜⡥⢎⡵⢎⡿⣽⢿⣻⢷⡹⣎⡻⡼⡹⢦⡛⡜⣥⢣⢳⡙⣮⢼⣡⢟⡴⣫⡜⢶⣹⢮⡿⣽⣿⣻⣼⢳⣯⣟⡾⣝⡞⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⢿⣿⣯⠷⡱⣭⣻⢬⠱⣯⣞⢧⣚⢥⡎⡵⢢⡛⣌⠖⡡⢖⡡⢇⠳⣥⡙⢮⠵⣯⣿⡷⣮⡑⢎⡱⣚⢬⠳⣜⢯⡞⣽⢯⣿⢯⣷⣣⢏⡵⣫⢗⡹⢜⣢⢋⠧⣝⠶⣫⢞⡽⣺⡕⣯⣳⡽⣯⣿⣿⣿⣳⣭⢿⣳⢯⣟⡼⣺⣽⣳⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣟⣯⣿⣯⠵⣳⢯⡷⣙⢮⣿⣻⡼⣧⣻⡜⣧⡝⢦⡙⡔⢣⡜⣊⠗⣦⢙⡦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡽⣮⠵⣎⢶⡹⣎⣷⣻⣽⡿⣯⣿⣞⣧⡻⣜⡳⢮⣱⢫⡔⣋⠞⣜⢯⡳⣏⣷⣳⢿⣱⢯⣟⣿⣽⣿⣷⣻⡼⢯⣿⣳⢾⣱⢷⣫⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣷⣻⡿⣏⢷⣻⡽⣧⢚⣿⣟⣿⣷⣯⣿⢶⣏⢷⡸⢌⢧⡚⣥⢻⣖⣯⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣾⣽⢧⣏⡳⢎⡳⡜⣥⠻⣜⢧⣻⢽⡾⣽⢯⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⢯⣽⣻⡽⣯⢳⣯⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣷⣻⡽⣎⣷⡻⣗⢯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣞⡧⡝⣎⠶⣹⢎⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣾⣱⣋⠶⣙⢦⠻⣜⢧⢯⣟⡾⣯⣟⣯⢿⣾⣿⣿⡿⣽⣏⡶⣯⣟⣷⣻⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⢶⣙⢶⣻⡝⣮⢻⣿⣞⣯⣿⣷⣿⢯⡷⣹⣌⡳⣝⢾⣻⣿⣽⡳⣟⡿⣿⢯⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡽⣞⣻⢻⡽⣚⠷⣿⢿⣳⣭⢲⡉⣖⢻⡜⣯⠾⣝⣿⣳⣟⣾⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣯⡽⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⢎⣛⣶⡻⡜⣿⣿⣻⣞⣿⣽⣿⡿⣽⢳⡌⢷⣺⢿⣟⡷⣭⢳⡝⣾⡱⣏⠿⣵⡻⣟⠿⣿⢿⠻⣭⢳⡝⢦⣣⠗⡼⣍⠻⣜⢿⣿⣳⡧⡝⣬⠳⣝⡮⣟⡽⣶⣻⣼⣳⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣽⣻⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡯⣜⡶⣟⡼⣻⣿⣯⣟⣾⣿⣷⣿⢯⡷⣭⣳⣿⣟⡯⣞⡱⣏⢾⡱⢯⣝⡻⣜⡳⣌⠳⣬⠳⣏⢖⡣⢞⣣⢟⣺⢱⡭⣛⣬⢳⢯⣿⣿⣝⢦⡻⣜⡳⣝⣾⣳⢯⣞⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⢾⣽⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣽⣽⣳⣽⣻⣿⣟⣾⣟⣿⣾⣟⣯⢷⣳⣿⡽⣞⡵⣫⠵⣎⡳⣝⡳⣎⠷⣹⢲⣌⢳⣜⡳⢌⠦⣙⢦⠓⣮⢱⣳⢞⡵⣚⣯⡞⣵⣻⣿⡷⣽⢎⡷⣻⡼⣯⣟⣾⣳⢿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣞⡷⣯⣷⣿⣻⣞⣿⣿⣿⣯⡿⣿⣟⣷⡻⣜⠶⣭⢻⡜⣧⢭⣓⢮⡹⢧⣻⡜⢦⡹⡜⡬⣖⡭⢮⡝⣖⢯⣳⣛⢾⡽⣞⡽⣲⡽⣾⣿⣿⢯⡷⢯⣿⣽⣟⡶⣫⣟⣯⢿⣿⣟⣿⣻⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣞⣿⣟⣾⣻⢷⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣎⣷⢫⡟⣖⢯⣞⡵⣯⣞⣦⣽⣷⣧⣟⣮⣵⣹⣼⣳⣽⣷⣻⣽⣮⡳⣌⢯⡝⡿⣼⣳⢿⣽⢯⡿⣿⣽⣻⣷⣯⣟⡷⣽⡺⣽⣻⣯⣟⣾⣟⣯⣿⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⣟⡾⣧⣟⡯⣞⣷⣿⣿⡽⣾⢻⢷⣻⡜⣧⢛⠾⣓⡞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣽⢳⡽⣯⣿⢯⡿⣝⣧⣛⢷⣻⣾⣯⣟⣶⣻⢷⣿⣻⣽⡾⣿⣿⣿⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣻⡵⣿⣽⠾⣽⣿⣯⠿⡜⠭⠊⠅⠙⠀⠁⢈⡰⣽⣶⣿⢿⡿⣟⢿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣛⢿⣛⣟⣻⣛⢿⣻⢿⡿⣿⡽⣫⢿⣽⣯⡿⣽⡻⣶⢯⣏⡿⣿⣷⣻⣾⣽⣻⢾⣿⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡷⣯⣽⢿⣽⣻⣗⡋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢠⢲⣮⡽⣷⣻⣽⣯⣿⣾⣿⣷⣿⣾⣷⣿⣿⣾⣽⣶⣯⣿⣽⣳⣟⡶⢯⣝⢯⣞⣷⣻⢯⡗⣯⣟⣮⡽⣳⢿⣳⣿⣷⣟⣿⣿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣟⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⢀⡀⣤⠴⣤⣻⡜⣯⢷⡽⣽⣳⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣟⣿⣯⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣳⢯⡟⣟⡾⣝⡾⣳⣯⣟⡾⣵⣛⢮⡱⢭⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⣯⣟⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⢟⡮⢿⣱⣳⢻⡽⣯⣟⣷⣻⣞⣯⣟⡿⣿⣟⣿⣻⢯⢷⡻⣞⠿⣽⣻⣟⣾⣳⢯⡟⣾⡽⣯⢯⣽⣳⢯⡟⡼⢣⡛⠦⡑⢮⣟⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⢾⡽⣞⣿⣿⣿⣽⢿⡹⢎⡽⣋⠷⣩⠿⣽⣳⢿⣯⢷⣻⢮⣝⡳⣝⣮⢳⡃⠎⠂⠑⠉⠚⢥⠳⡍⠶⣙⠮⣝⣳⢿⡹⣟⢮⡓⢯⠙⡌⠣⠑⠂⣍⢳⣿⣻⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣱⣋⠶⡡⢚⡵⣫⢷⢯⣟⡾⣯⢳⡏⣞⡱⡽⢬⡳⢌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢀⢃⠘⡰⣍⠞⣼⣹⢎⡿⣜⢧⡙⢦⡑⠤⣁⢉⠒⣌⡳⢯⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⢾⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⢷⡹⢮⣕⣣⢾⣝⣯⣟⡾⣝⢧⡛⡜⢢⡝⣚⢧⠓⡌⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠎⢤⠱⣎⣟⢶⣹⢮⣳⡝⣮⠱⢦⣙⢲⡰⡌⣞⡼⣭⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣟⡳⣎⢷⣻⣞⡷⣭⣟⢮⣇⠳⣜⡡⠞⡡⢊⠘⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⢂⡿⣜⣯⡞⣧⡻⣵⢻⡴⣛⠦⣙⡖⣣⡝⣮⢷⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣳⢭⣟⣷⣻⣞⡵⣞⣳⢎⡟⡴⣃⠳⣀⠣⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠠⣘⣼⣳⢧⣟⢶⡻⣜⢧⡻⣜⢣⡳⣼⣥⣛⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣾⣿⣷⣯⣟⢾⣹⢾⡹⡖⣭⢳⣥⢳⡡⢆⡱⢈⠀⡐⠠⢀⡱⢺⣼⣟⣿⣞⡷⣻⢬⡻⣵⢏⡷⣹⡖⣯⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⣯⣽⢷⡿⣼⢱⡏⣾⢷⣽⣮⢱⠆⡴⢩⠱⢦⡽⣯⣷⣿⢿⣾⣽⣧⢷⢿⣵⢿⡾⣷⢿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣯⣟⣳⢯⣷⣻⣿⣯⡗⢮⡑⢮⡔⡩⢞⡰⣹⢟⣾⣻⣟⣿⡿⣞⡽⣾⣽⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⣽⣿⣾⣿⣽⣷⢻⢶⣹⡳⣞⡵⣋⠶⣭⣟⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⢯⣿⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣯⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣷⣿⣿⣾⣽⣯⡿⣷⡿⣽⣻⣭⣟⡶⣯⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⡽⣾⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⣟⢷⣫⢿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡿⣾⠽⣞⣽⣫⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⡿⣽⡻⣝⡶⣏⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⢿⣽⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⢿⣽⣳⢏⡷⣽⢣⡿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡿⣽⣻⣾⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⡿⣟⡾⣧⡻⣝⢮⡻⣽⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡿⣽⡿⣽⣳⡿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣟⡿⣽⣳⡽⣫⢷⡹⣞⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣻⣽⡿⣟⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣟⡷⣯⢷⢯⣳⡻⣜⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣳⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣻⡽⣯⣻⣵⡻⣵⢾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡷⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⢯⣟⣷⣻⣼⣻⣵⣻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠖⠚⠉⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠒⢄⠀⢂⢠⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢢⣐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⡆⠀⢠⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠁⡰⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⠋⢳⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⢷⠙⠲⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠴⠴⣆⠴⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⣀⣀⡉⠙⠒⠒⠒⡎⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⠃⠀⠀⢶⠀⠀⠀⢳⠋⠁⠀⠙⢳⡠⠖⠚⠑⠲⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠈⢧⣀⣠⠔⡺⣧⠀⡴⡖⠦⠟⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢹⣾⠁⠁⠀⣠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠆⠀⠉⢉⡝⠓⠦⠤⢾⠈⠓⠖⠚⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢰⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢾⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠐⠢⠤⠤⠔⠚⠁⠘⣆⠀⠀⢠⠋⢧⣀⣀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

👍🏻4️⃣ 🫵🏻🍫🍪

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⣀⣀⣦⣠⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣄⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣄⣄⣰⡟⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡄⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠛⠉⠻⠿⢿⣿⣷⣦⠈⠿⠀⠀⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠛⠋⠀⡇⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⢀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠛⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢀⣤⣶⣄⢠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⠇⠀⠂⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⡟⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡈⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⣴⡇⢒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠟⣠⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠈⢿⣿⣿⠛⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣴⠀⠈⠿⡄⠛⢿⡓⣤⡀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⢸⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⢠⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠻⡿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣴⣿⣿⣦⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠟⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

⠠⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⡀⢂⠐⣀⢂⠰⡀⢆⡙⠚⡕⣋⢞⣛⣯⣿⣝⠚⠪⢟⢻⣿⣻⢯⣔⠜⢯⠳⠿⢿⢟⣽⡯⣿⣿⣿⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣟⣝⣿⡟⣽⣿⢿⡟⢷⡜⣸⣏⠔⡠⡆⠐⠂⢼ ⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠐⠀⠂⠄⠂⠒⡐⠢⣌⢱⣈⡒⣌⡰⢚⠷⢚⢋⠳⠬⠵⡃⠅⡑⠫⣯⣀⣂⣰⣞⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⠷⣾⣿⢺⣿⣾⣿⣝⣻⡿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠨⣷⣿⡏⡐⠑⠀⠌⡄⣨ ⠒⠖⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠖⠶⠳⢞⢶⡳⣟⣶⣷⣿⣾⣶⣾⣶⣶⣶⣒⣟⣲⣒⣖⣻⣻⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣷⣿⣹⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣽⣭⣯⣽⣿⣿⡿ ⣾⢶⣾⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⢿⣻⢿⣻⢿⣻⡟⣯⡟⣭⢏⣭⣧⣭⣳⣭⣮⣵⣧⣻⣜⣧⣿⣼⣽⣩⡿⢮⣥⣬⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣯⣾⣿⣮⣳⣼⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⡿⡟⢡ ⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣭⢯⣏⣯⢷⣽⣳⢿⣱⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣴⢟⣿⡿⡶⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣶⣷⡿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⣎⠳⡜⢮⡳⢎⡵⣫⠶⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⡞⡥⣢⣿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣙⢿⣿⣾⠉⣿⣷⣦ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠷⣌⢳⡙⢦⣙⠣⣎⡱⢫⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠆⡁⢰⣷⡟⠻⣗⢎⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣃⣾⣟⢟⢾⡟⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢧⡘⢇⡜⢣⡘⢧⡀⠧⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠠⠘⡿⣇⢃⠟⣼⣿⡿⣧⢟⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⡿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠢⢍⡒⢌⠡⡘⢆⡹⡘⢬⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠈⡐⠠⢈⠛⣌⠞⣿⠿⣓⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠶⠛⣟⣿⣔ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠘⡰⢈⠆⢡⠘⡀⠆⡙⡜⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠄⠣⡘⢔⡨⣚⢶⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣷⣬⢿⣇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠠⠑⡌⡐⢀⠂⠀⠢⣤⠇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⣿⣿⣿⣿⡧⠺⢎⣳⣞⣦⠱⣩⢞⡱⢎⡵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠫⣕⣟⣛⣾ ⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠿⠇⡁⠆⡐⠈⠄⠠⠁⢆⠠⢹⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⢿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠶⠞⢛⣛⠛⣓⣷⣾⣟⡼⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣷⡻⣗⣦⣿ ⠐⡀⢂⠡⢈⠐⠠⠐⡀⠂⠄⡉⠄⠡⠘⡀⢢⠐⠄⠄⢾⣼⣷⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣟⣧⣿⣴⣿⣿⣿⣷⣛⡛⢟⡛⣟⢻⡛⣟⢻⡛⣭⣻⣿⢟⣿⣿⣯⣵⣿⠏⡭⢻ ⢂⠠⢀⠐⠀⡈⠄⠡⢀⠡⠒⠠⠌⠠⢁⠰⠀⠎⡐⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠙⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡜⢢⡙⢤⢣⡝⣬⢣⢿⡛⣏⢶⣿⡞⢻⣟⠋⡝⣜⡅⣸ ⠠⠀⠀⠠⠁⡐⢨⠁⠂⠄⡁⠂⠀⡁⠂⠤⢉⢐⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠉⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⠟⠡⠜⣌⠲⣘⠴⣋⢶⣩⠒⡯⡑⢎⡟⠡⠌⡿⣭⠞⢸ ⠄⡁⠠⠀⢂⡘⠤⠑⡈⠄⠀⠐⠀⠄⡑⠠⢒⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⡙⣪⣼⣷⠚⠳⢔⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⢤⣿⡿⣮⣑⠸⢠⠓⡬⢓⡭⣒⠦⣋⠴⣉⠲⢌⡑⢎⡰⢂⠆⢼ ⠐⡀⢀⠂⢡⠐⡌⠂⠄⡀⢂⠀⢀⠂⡐⠡⣪⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠮⠏⣬⡽⢆⣀⠤⠄⠀⠻⡦⣤⠄⣤⣴⣿⡿⠧⡀⠀⠉⢢⣻⡇⢣⠙⡜⣣⠞⡤⠓⣌⠲⢌⡑⣊⠔⠢⢜⡀⠂⣼ ⢂⠐⠀⡈⠆⠱⡈⠅⢂⡐⠀⠀⠂⡐⠠⡕⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⣟⣡⣎⣬⡄⢀⣠⣶⠏⠋⠉⡷⢸⣿⡙⠜⡛⠛⠀⢀⡧⠙⠂⡱⢘⠦⣙⠰⡉⢄⠣⢢⢑⢂⢎⡑⢊⠄⢡⣿ ⠠⢈⠀⠔⡉⢆⡑⠌⣂⠐⠀⠀⡐⢨⠐⡇⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣻⣿⣞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⠟⡔⢣⠀⠌⢫⢿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡘⣿⢧⣾⠃⠴⣉⠶⣁⠣⠜⡠⣙⠢⡅⢎⡰⠌⠢⡆⢹⣿ ⠐⢀⠈⢆⠱⢠⠘⡐⢀⠠⢀⠡⠘⠤⠁⢷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⠽⣶⢻⡟⣿⢺⢯⣭⣭⠗⣪⠼⠿⢂⢀⠀⢷⣽⣻⣽⣟⣵⣼⣾⠏⣀⠣⠔⡣⢜⠠⢃⠴⣈⠓⣌⠲⢠⠉⡇⠇⢸⣿ ⢈⠀⠌⢢⠘⢄⠣⡐⢂⠒⡄⢂⠉⢆⠡⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⡵⣋⢖⢣⠚⣤⠟⠊⠉⠀⢰⣧⣶⣶⣿⣦⣤⣤⡉⠒⠮⠏⠒⠹⣏⠰⣠⢃⠣⣑⠊⡜⡐⢦⢡⢋⠤⢃⢣⠘⢰⠀⢸⣿ ⠠⢈⠰⠁⢎⠠⢃⠔⣈⠒⠄⡂⠌⠀⠠⠐⣴⣿⣿⢿⣿⣞⡽⣊⢧⡋⠄⠀⠀⠀⠒⢛⡛⡛⠟⣛⠎⠉⢉⠐⠅⠄⠀⠀⠀⣣⠓⡔⡨⠑⡄⢃⠆⡍⢢⢃⠎⣌⠣⠜⣨⠈⠀⣾⣿ ⠂⠌⢠⠒⡈⢆⡘⢄⡉⠆⣤⠁⠀⠀⡀⠀⣿⣿⣹⣞⣿⡿⣵⢻⣌⠳⡐⠄⠀⣠⠔⣊⣥⣥⣤⡟⣤⣄⣌⠐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⢢⠑⣡⠒⡡⠚⢤⡑⠎⡜⡰⣉⠲⠰⣹⠀⠄⣿⣿ ⠈⠤⢁⠊⠔⠂⠌⠠⠙⣾⢟⡵⠄⣾⣤⡅⣿⣏⣾⡝⣾⣟⢧⡟⣼⢣⡝⡠⡙⠁⠘⠛⢉⠁⡀⠄⠠⠈⠙⠳⠇⠀⠀⠀⢠⠑⡌⢒⠡⢊⠥⡙⢤⢊⠵⢨⡑⢆⡩⡑⢼⠠⠈⣿⣿ ⣐⢠⣬⣿⢾⡡⣞⣒⢯⣼⣦⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⡿⢿⣯⡞⡽⣎⡗⣮⡱⢆⡔⣢⡝⡌⠣⠙⠈⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠰⣈⠜⢸⣗⣾⣱⣞⣞⣞⣳⢼⡂⢱⠈⢾⠀⢁⣿⣿ ⣘⢣⢛⣟⣿⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⡿⣿⠛⠳⢿⣯⣷⣯⢳⢧⣛⡶⣽⣻⣎⢥⠘⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠆⢎⢰⡻⡜⣧⢻⡼⣍⢯⣛⠄⡣⢉⢼⡀⠸⣿⣿ ⣿⣳⣿⢿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣇⣥⣖⢀⠀⢸⣿⣯⣟⣮⠷⣽⢶⣻⣯⣷⣯⣻⣤⡆⣤⣆⣀⠀⠀⠠⡀⠀⣰⡗⠈⡜⠠⠊⣷⡙⠶⣍⠶⣙⠦⣏⠆⡱⢈⠌⠀⠆⣿⣻ ⣿⣿⣿⣦⣾⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣡⠗⡇⠈⢸⡻⣍⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣧⣾⣿⣯⠐⠄⢃⠘⠃⠛⠙⢊⠙⣊⠓⢊⠆⡱⢈⡸⠊⠀⣿⢿ ⢝⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡝⠠⡔⠧⠓⠃⠰⠏⠂⢸⣿⣟⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢿⣿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢹⣿⡿⡏⠀⠌⠀⠌⠒⠠⢁⠂⡡⠐⢌⠢⠘⡄⠂⡄⠀⢰⣿⣻ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣷⣞⣁⢤⠦⡐⢨⣠⡾⢺⣿⣞⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣷⠿⣿⣳⣯⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⢼⣿⣗⡳⣎⣰⡞⡎⠌⡐⠠⢁⠰⠉⡄⠢⢑⡈⠁⠀⠀⣼⡿⣽ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢿⣿⣿⢯⢻⠘⣿⣷⡭⡮⠌⣴⣾⣿⡟⣹⣿⡞⣽⣻⡽⣿⣯⡿⣟⣾⢻⡿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢺⣿⣧⣵⣾⢓⢮⡀⠐⡈⠔⡈⠄⠣⢐⡁⠆⠠⠁⠀⠐⢹⡽⣯ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡀⠘⡯⢊⡁⠏⡿⠏⠛⢥⣺⣿⣽⢣⢗⡹⢳⣿⡻⣝⢮⣛⣏⠀⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣿⣿⣿⡏⠟⢠⢚⣢⣴⢖⠠⢁⢜⠃⡐⠈⡀⢡⠐⠀⢸⡿⣽ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠢⠳⠀⠀⡪⣰⣯⢤⢎⣱⣷⣿⣿⡞⣭⢎⠵⢣⢞⡻⡹⣎⣯⢟⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣶⣄⠀⢏⢹⢣⣽⣧⣨⡎⢁⠦⠴⣔⠮⠃⢸⠀⠀⢺⣝⢾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣥⣈⠉⠊⢻⡮⡜⢑⣡⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣛⢦⣋⢎⡓⣎⠷⣱⡙⢎⠈⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣮⠹⣿⠦⣹⣯⣄⣽⠗⠻⣟⣧⣧⣿⣕⣤⡔⡝⠀⠀⣿⡞⣯ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣹⢦⡙⣎⢵⡪⣝⡦⣝⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠀⡽⣧⠈⠉⠻⠉⣾⣶⣾⣿⠿⢍⡯⡫⡝⣀⣴⠆⣻⡝⣮ ⡿⣿⠿⣿⣹⢻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡵⣮⠵⢚⡃⠀⠀⠱⢌⡳⡐⢆⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠠⢃⡇⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣧⡵⣾⣿⣿⣔⣾⣙⠶ ⣀⢹⣶⢁⣿⠓⣏⠉⡉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡟⠉⠀⠀⠉⡖⠀⠀⠈⢱⠉⣆⠑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⢁⠊⣀⢲⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⣿⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣇⡞⣿ ⣶⡵⢟⠭⣒⠹⣼⡳⢀⠂⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡟⣫⢱⠺⣼⣀⠀⠀⠈⠐⠁⠀⠀⠈⠋⢆⡃⢀⠄⠀⡠⢎⡵⢪⣔⠎⢌⠐⣯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠠⠈⠙⠛⢻⣯⡯⡝⣾⣿ ⡳⠜⡌⠒⡄⢃⢾⣿⠀⠌⡐⣿⡛⠛⠉⢁⠚⣿⡍⠮⡲⣝⠶⡻⢯⣢⠤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢊⡼⠴⣊⠥⣓⢣⣾⣿⡗⠉⠀⠌⣻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠩⣽⡺⡿⢟ ⡳⢍⢢⠑⡌⢂⢺⣿⡌⠰⣀⢿⡇⠌⡐⠠⢈⣿⡎⠀⡀⠙⣝⠯⣽⣌⢓⠮⣜⣱⢫⢝⡲⢫⡝⢦⡑⢮⣼⡫⣽⣿⡇⠠⠁⢂⢸⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠹⣿⣶ ⡟⣬⢢⡣⠘⣄⠢⢿⣆⠱⣠⢛⡧⠐⠠⢁⠂⣿⡇⠐⠀⠡⢈⡝⠒⢿⣏⡶⢱⢮⡷⠮⣱⣏⣿⢖⣻⣿⢍⠰⣿⣿⠆⠡⢈⠀⡈⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⡃⠀⢹⣏ ⣿⣦⢃⣷⢩⣄⠣⢼⣇⠳⣄⢫⢆⠡⢃⡐⠂⣽⡗⠈⠠⢁⠂⢸⡁⠆⢳⡈⢍⢻⣿⡁⠑⣿⣿⠆⣼⡟⣌⡚⣿⣿⠌⡶⡄⢦⣤⣷⡤⢢⡠⢠⢄⢻⡆⠠⣰⣧⠄⣄⢠⡇⠀⠀⢋ ⣿⣻⣷⡸⣧⢿⡒⣼⣯⠷⣌⠳⣌⠲⡁⢄⠃⠼⣏⠠⢁⠂⠌⡀⢇⡘⠤⢁⠆⢺⣿⠀⢸⣿⣟⢠⣿⡟⡴⣹⣿⣏⠖⢏⠡⠛⠳⢸⠒⠴⠳⠸⠔⠺⣷⢣⢏⡿⢩⠗⣸⠁⠀⠀⢠ ⣿⣿⣿⣵⣻⣽⣿⢾⣻⡿⣜⢯⡜⣱⡘⢢⢉⡜⡷⢀⠂⠌⡐⠐⠨⡐⠤⠁⠊⢼⡟⡀⢸⣿⡧⢎⣿⣿⡱⣯⣿⣏⠞⡤⢃⡘⢀⠂⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡌⣾⣇⣼⢁⡿⠀⠀⢠⠀

「 ✦ Shivam ✦ 」

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣏⣉⣉⣉⣛⣛⣻⣿⣶⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣶⣾⣿⣛⣛⣋⣉⣉⣉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠄ ⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠀⠀⣉⡿⠋⠉⠉⠙⠛⠻⢿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⠿⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠻⣏⡉⠀⠈⣹⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣟⠉⠉⣙⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⢹⠀⣸⠃⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡉⠉⠹⣿⣿⡟⠉⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣟⠉⢉⣿⣦⣄⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠸⡇⡿⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⣾⣍⠉⠙⣿⣿⡯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⣀⣨⡟⠛⠛⠒⠒⠤⢄⣀⠀⠙⢿⣆⣷⣧⣾⠟⠁⠀⣀⠤⠄⠒⠚⠛⠛⣯⣀⡀⠀⠉⢹⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⡟⠉⣀⡤⢷⡦⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠢⣌⣻⣿⣿⢋⠤⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣶⠷⣄⡈⠙⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⣿⣿⣿⣁⡤⠾⣷⣤⣴⠶⢶⣒⡻⠿⠿⢛⣿⣿⣿⣟⠛⠽⠿⢓⣲⠶⢶⣦⣴⡟⠦⣄⣹⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⢛⣉⠥⠒⠉⠁⠀⣀⠔⢈⠔⣽⣿⣿⡝⢌⠒⢄⡀⠀⠉⠑⠢⢍⣙⢻⣿⣿⡟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠊⠀⡴⠋⣼⡟⣿⡟⢿⡄⠳⡄⠈⠢⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣯⢽⣀⠀⣀⣴⡏⠀⢀⡞⠁⣸⡿⠀⠉⠀⠘⣿⡀⠙⣆⠀⠘⣷⣄⡀⢀⡸⢯⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⣿⣿⡶⠋⡿⠋⣽⠷⣶⡟⠀⢰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠘⣷⡖⢿⡍⠻⡏⠳⣶⣿⡟⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣷⡞⠀⢠⡇⢰⡟⠀⠀⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡆⠀⠘⣧⠀⣷⠀⠹⣶⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣶⡟⠙⣿⡀⠀⣰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡀⠀⣹⣟⠙⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

𓏺

⠀⠀⢀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⡤⠖⠚⠁ ⠀⣰⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣶⡿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢰⣿⣿⣧⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

1️⃣ 1️⃣

🍎💫🌱🍄✨☁️🎧📀🕯️🪩♡

🤙26️⃣

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋⠀⣀⠄⡂⠍⣀⣒⣒⠂⠀⠬⠤⠤⠬⠍⠉⠝⠲⣄⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠊⢔⠕⠈⣀⣀⡀⠈⠆⠀⠀⠀⡍⠁⠀⠁⢂⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣾⠥⠀⠀⣠⢠⣞⣿⣿⣿⣉⠳⣄⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣶⡄⠀⠀⣘⢦⡀ ⢀⡞⡍⣠⠞⢋⡛⠶⠤⣤⠴⠚⠀⠈⠙⠁⠀⠀⢹⡏⠁⠀⣀⣠⠤⢤⡕⠱⣷ ⠘⡇⠇⣯⠤⢾⡙⠲⢤⣀⡀⠤⠀⢲⡖⣂⣀⠀⠀⢙⣶⣄⠈⠉⣸⡄⠠⣠⡿ ⠀⠹⣜⡪⠀⠈⢷⣦⣬⣏⠉⠛⠲⣮⣧⣁⣀⣀⠶⠞⢁⣀⣨⢶⢿⣧⠉⡼⠁ ⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠳⣌⡟⠻⠷⣶⣧⣀⣀⣹⣉⣉⣿⣉⣉⣇⣼⣾⣿⠀⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡄⠀⠀⠘⠳⣄⡀⡼⠈⠉⠛⡿⠿⠿⡿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡇⠀⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⣕⠠⣒⠌⡙⠓⠶⠤⣤⣧⣀⣸⣇⣴⣧⠾⠾⠋⠀⠀⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠶⣭⣒⠩⠖⢠⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠔⠁⡰⠀⣧⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠲⢤⣀⣀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣠⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠛⠒⠲⠶⠤⠴⠒⠚⠁⠀⠀

⢯⡻⣭⢻⣭⢻⣭⢻⣭⢻⣭⢻⣭⣻⣭⣻⣭⣻⢭⣏⢯⡝⣯⡝⣯⡝⣯⡝⣯⢽ ⣏⠷⣭⢳⣎⠷⣎⠷⣎⣷⣾⣷⣿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠓⢾⢧⣛⢶⡹⢶⡹⢶⣹⠎⠓ ⣭⢻⣜⡳⢮⣻⣜⡻⣼⣿⣿⣿⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⢟⡮⡽⡣⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⣭⢗⡮⣽⢳⡳⢮⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠃⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡽⣎⠷⣭⡳⣝⢧⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⣲⠶⣶⡦⢤⢤⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠷⣭⣛⠶⣽⡹⣎⡿⢹⣹⡟⠀⠀⠀⠘⣏⠾⢫⠅⠀⣟⡟⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡟⣵⢫⡟⣶⡹⠧⢛⠹⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⡈⡛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣻⡜⡧⠛⠂⠀⠀⠀⢁⣢⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⠨⢻⡃⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⢯⡐⢀⠀⠀⠠⠛⠛⢙⣻⢧⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠐⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠠⠙⢎⠶⣤⠀⢀⠀⠈⢒⡏⠀⠀⡀⠠⢀⠡⠀⡅⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡄⠐⠱⢈⡝⣌⣻⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣶⡔⠈⡄⠡⡀⢃ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣇⠀⠀⠀⣼⢿⡉⠉⣽⣿⣿⣿⢻⡙⠋⠄⡡⠠⢁⠔⠂ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡃⠀⠠⣼⣿⠛⡀⣼⡟⡜⢃⠃⠤⠑⡈⠄⣁⠂⠌⡐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠠⠐⠠⠐⠠⢀⠰⢻⠻⠳⠜⠡⠐⡈⠤⠈⡄⠡⢐⠈⢄⠨⠐⠠ ⠀⠔⠀⢄⠠⠌⣀⠃⠌⢂⠡⢂⠰⢀⠂⢡⠈⠔⠡⠐⣀⠃⠄⡡⠂⢌⠠⢂⠉⡐

can someone submit 4/20 Mj leaves 🌳☘️

-⃝⃤75😩

𖤐 🕷 4 🕷 𖤐

𓐄

4̶̧̡̡̧̧̧̢̡̨̨̧̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͉͈̻̰̻̘͕͍̠̝͙̗͕̬̹̗̰̙̹̜͇͎̙̠͍͚̜̝̬̣̮̫̥͎͚̙̼̝̰̻͕̱̺͕̻͈̺̦̺̥̱̰͎͔͖̲͖̯͖̺̻͙̩̗̩͚̙̙̭̘̺͎̩͇̙̖̙̜̮̪̞̞̲̩̙͖̣̖̬̘̩̟͚̯̮̲̬̱̯͙̱̼͕̟͕͕͈̩͚̹̮̹̱̥̖̺̬̯͈̦̜̜̍͐́͑̿͗͂̏̓̇͗͐̈́́͌̿͌̀̾͑͊̀͑̏͒̂̒̓͒͋̇̄́̀͌͊͋̋̓͛̂̎̈̆́́̔͒̾͂̆̅̊̾̎̓̎͋͋͑̂̈͛͂̋̓̔̈̀̊̈́͂͌́̄͊̏̌́̀̓̋̄̾̆̐̇̇̾̿̈́̂͐̏̊̏̈́̆̉͑̍̌̌̃̆̍̓̕̚̕̕̚͘̕͘͘̕͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͠͠͝͝ͅͅ

𓎉

⛥

💩4️⃣4⃣

𓐇

:3✩°｡⋆⸜(˙꒳​˙ )🛩☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

🤢😥😇😴🐭🦊😥✊✌️🍕🐰😴🍎🐭👌🐰🤢😴

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⣿⣿⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⠟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣺⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣆⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⣾⣷⣀⣀⣀⣠⣶⣶⣄⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠉⠹⣿⣿⡟⠉⠁⠀⠘⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣼⣿⡟⣁⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣦⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠏⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠾⠏⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠂⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣾⣿⠟⠁⠈⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣼⣥⣤⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠟⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⢉..

︵¹🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️︵¹

:3

✖

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

🖖4️⃣🍀👩‍👩‍👧‍👦

●

𓃌

𓂰

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡♊

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( ˶ •́ ω •̀ ˶ )

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tubarao ⟭⟬⁷ ☾⟭⟬⁷☻ tubarao ⟭⟬⁷ ☾⟭⟬⁷☻

𝐤𝐡𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐚𝐫💖

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tubarao ⟭⟬⁷ ☾⟭⟬⁷☻