234 Quick Brown Foxes Jumped Over 5 Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste 234 Quick Brown Foxes Jumped Over 5 Emojis & Symbols 🇦 🇲 🇦 🇿 🇮 🇳 🇬 PLANE/̵͇̿̿/'̿'̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

🇦 🇲 🇦 🇿 🇮 🇳 🇬 PLANE/̵͇̿̿/'̿'̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿💥✴🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸🛸

Related Text & Emojis

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』
qಇ.𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ𝐒𝐭✰𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆❷‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒔𝒉𝒂 ᥫ᭡.⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆༺♡༻☽♛𑁤ྀི𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽?❶❸𝓕𝓾𝓬𝓴ɪ፝֟ᥫ᭡★✧˖°🌷📎⋆˚。⋆୨୧˚ひ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི≽^•⩊•^≼ꜝꜝ⋆˚✿˖°❛❛❞❻❼❾❿⩇⩇:⩇⩇🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐𐙚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❧
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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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₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
「 ✦ Shivam ✦ 」
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠋⣤⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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⠀⠈⠻⠎⢿⣿⡷⠎⠉⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣆⠀⠀⣀⠘⢿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⠀⠀⠁⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠿⣳⣶⣴⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⡷⣤⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣥⣤⣄⣀⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⢿⡜⢻⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⣄⡼⢃⣠⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⣤⣿⡄⠀⠀⢠⡀⢸⣆⡀⢀⣸⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⡄⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡏⠀⠀⠉⠉⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠂⣿⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠋⠙⣷⠀⣄⠀⠘⣿⡇⣤⠀⠈⢿⣼⣟⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣯⡁⠀⠀⣰⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⢷⣦⣴⠾⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⠹⢧⡄⣹⣿⠉⠀⠀⠈⢿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⠟⠛⢻⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⣸⡿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠿⠿⠛⠹⢷⣦⣴⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⣀⡀⠀⢀⣿⣷⡦⠀⣠⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⠷⠾⢿⣿⠻⠷⠿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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︵¹🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️︵¹
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⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣠⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣿⣿⡿⠟⠿⠿⢿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣶⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⡀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠙⢿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⢀⣄⠉⠙⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣤⡟⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣏⢀⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠋⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⡿⣷⣶⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠋⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠋⢉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢉⣬⡿⢿⣿⣿⠛⢿⠗⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠟⠉⠀⠀⠈⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⣿⣿⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⠟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣺⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣆⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⣾⣷⣀⣀⣀⣠⣶⣶⣄⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠉⠹⣿⣿⡟⠉⠁⠀⠘⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣼⣿⡟⣁⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣦⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠏⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠾⠏⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠂⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣾⣿⠟⠁⠈⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣼⣥⣤⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠟⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⢉..
-⃝⃤75😩
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋⠀⣀⠄⡂⠍⣀⣒⣒⠂⠀⠬⠤⠤⠬⠍⠉⠝⠲⣄⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠊⢔⠕⠈⣀⣀⡀⠈⠆⠀⠀⠀⡍⠁⠀⠁⢂⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣾⠥⠀⠀⣠⢠⣞⣿⣿⣿⣉⠳⣄⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣶⡄⠀⠀⣘⢦⡀ ⢀⡞⡍⣠⠞⢋⡛⠶⠤⣤⠴⠚⠀⠈⠙⠁⠀⠀⢹⡏⠁⠀⣀⣠⠤⢤⡕⠱⣷ ⠘⡇⠇⣯⠤⢾⡙⠲⢤⣀⡀⠤⠀⢲⡖⣂⣀⠀⠀⢙⣶⣄⠈⠉⣸⡄⠠⣠⡿ ⠀⠹⣜⡪⠀⠈⢷⣦⣬⣏⠉⠛⠲⣮⣧⣁⣀⣀⠶⠞⢁⣀⣨⢶⢿⣧⠉⡼⠁ ⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠳⣌⡟⠻⠷⣶⣧⣀⣀⣹⣉⣉⣿⣉⣉⣇⣼⣾⣿⠀⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡄⠀⠀⠘⠳⣄⡀⡼⠈⠉⠛⡿⠿⠿⡿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡇⠀⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⣕⠠⣒⠌⡙⠓⠶⠤⣤⣧⣀⣸⣇⣴⣧⠾⠾⠋⠁⠀⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠶⣭⣒⠩⠖⢠⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠔⠁⡰⠀⣧⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠲⢤⣀⣀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣠⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠛⠒⠲⠶⠤⠴⠒⠚⠁⠀⠀
0 ⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
tubarao ⟭⟬⁷ ☾⟭⟬⁷☻ tubarao ⟭⟬⁷ ☾⟭⟬⁷☻
✌️☝️⤵️
𝐤𝐡𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐚𝐫💖
tubarao ⟭⟬⁷ ☾⟭⟬⁷☻
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠺⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠴⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇ ⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣶⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠖⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀ ⠀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣷⣦⣀⣸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⠀ ⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⢠⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠋⠀⠀⢠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⠈⠑⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡤⣄⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡄⠀⠙⡄⠀⠀⠘⠓⢤⣀⠀⣠⠞⠀⠀⠀⣰⠀⠀⠈⠙⣶⠏⢿⣠⣾⣴⠋⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⠀⠀⠈⠋⠀⠀⡿⠒⢤⡀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢣⡄⠀⣠⣾⡗⠦⢤⣄⡾⠃⠀⣸⣿⣨⡿⣄⣀⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⡿⠀⠀⠀⣦⠀⢷⡀⠀⠈⢳⣦⡀⠀⠀⢳⠞⠁⣰⠳⠊⠉⠉⠱⣄⣴⠋⠀⣼⣧⣶⣤⣇⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⢶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⢸⠈⢳⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⢿⣤⣀⢀⣀⣠⠞⠃⠀⣸⡟⠘⢧⡏⢹⠁⠀⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠈⠓⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⡆⠀⠀⣷⡏⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠈⣷⢶⠛⡇⠀⠀⠉⢹⡉⠉⠀⠀⠲⣴⡏⠀⠀⡜⠀⡟⠀⠈⠙⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⡀⠀⠀⠙⣷⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣠⡴⠛⠾⣧⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⢤⡤⠤⠚⠁⠀⠰⣼⠃⢠⡇⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡖⠋⠀⠘⣦⢿⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⣀⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢤⣀⣀⣠⡴⠋⠀⢸⠀⠀⣰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡤⣄⡀⠘⡄⠑⢬⣳⢤⣀⠀⢈⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣌⡇⣼⠃⠀⠀⠉⠓⠫⠤⠾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠓⠚⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀
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*+🧦🚀⚒️+*.
🥇🎉✨️🎆🎇
𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐮 😘❤️🥰😘😍𓆩♡𓆪
𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐮 😘❤️🥰😘😍
ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ. ඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞඞ.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⣀⢀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⡀⠀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀ ⠉⡍⢩⠉⠍⡉⠩⢉⠩⢉⠉⠍⡉⠍⠩⢉⡉⠍⡉⠍⡩⠉⡍⢩⠉⡍⢩⠉⡍⢩⠉⡍⠩⢉⡉⠍⡩⠉⡍⠩⡉⠍⡉⠍⡉⠍⡉⢍⠩⢉⠍⡩⢉⠍⡩⢉⠍⡩⢉⠍⡩⠉⡍⢩⠉⡍⢩⠉⡍⠩⡉⢍⠩⢉⠩⡉⠍⡉⠰⠁⢎⠈⡍⢉⡉⡉⠍⣉⢉⡉⡉⢌⡉⡉⠥⢉⠩⢉⡉⠅⠋⣟ ⢨⠐⣁⠊⡔⢁⠣⠌⢒⠨⡘⠤⠑⡌⢡⠂⡔⢨⠐⡌⠰⡁⢆⠡⠒⢌⠢⡑⢄⠃⡒⢈⠅⢢⠘⠤⢁⠣⡐⢡⠘⠤⠑⡌⠰⢡⠘⡄⢊⠔⡨⢐⠡⢂⠱⡈⠔⡠⢃⡘⠄⢣⠘⢄⠊⠔⡂⢅⠢⡑⢌⠰⡈⢆⠱⢈⠆⡡⠃⡜⢀⠣⢐⠂⡔⠁⢎⠠⢂⠔⡁⢢⠐⠌⢒⡈⠆⡁⠆⢌⠡⣏ ⢠⠃⡄⠣⢄⠣⡐⢡⠊⡔⢠⠃⡜⢠⠂⡅⠒⡄⢃⠌⡡⠐⡌⢢⠉⡄⢃⠔⡈⢆⠡⢊⠌⡂⠜⡠⢃⠢⡁⢆⡘⢄⠣⣈⠑⢢⠡⡘⢄⠊⡔⡈⢆⠡⢒⡈⠔⡁⠆⠤⡉⢆⡘⠄⡊⠔⡨⢐⠢⡁⢎⠰⡁⢎⠰⡁⢆⠡⡑⢌⠢⡑⡈⢆⡘⢌⠢⡑⠌⢢⠘⡠⢊⠜⡠⠘⠤⡑⢌⠂⡔⡧ ⠢⡑⢌⠱⡈⢆⠑⢢⠑⡌⢢⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢊⠔⡡⠒⡄⢣⠘⡄⠪⠔⡈⢆⠡⢊⠔⡡⢂⠥⢂⡑⢢⠘⡄⠣⢄⡉⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⢠⠑⡌⢢⠡⡘⠤⡑⢌⠢⡑⢢⠘⠤⡑⢌⠰⡁⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡑⢌⠰⡈⠆⡱⢈⠜⡠⢃⠔⡡⢂⠥⡉⢆⠱⡈⢒⠠⡗ ⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡉⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⢌⠱⡈⠔⡈⢆⢡⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⡈⢆⠱⣈⠑⢢⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢃⠆⡱⢈⠆⡱⢈⠆⡱⢈⠆⡑⢢⠉⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡑⠢⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⠑⡌⠰⡈⢆⠱⡈⠆⠡⣏ ⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⢌⠢⡑⠌⡔⢊⠄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠐⡡⢊⠔⡠⢍⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⠤⣈⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⣈⠱⡈⢆⠱⢠⠉⠆⡧ ⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠰⣁⠊⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠰⡁⢎⠰⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠡⢊⡐⢡⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⠡⢊⠰⢡⠘⠄⡒⠨⠄⢃⠔⡂⡑⠢⢄⠣⡐⠌⡂⢅⠊⠤⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠒⡄⢣⠘⡄⢃⠆⡩⠐⡗ ⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠂⠥⡐⠌⡐⠢⡑⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡑⢂⠌⢢⠘⢄⠢⡑⢌⢂⠱⢈⢂⠱⢈⠢⢁⠆⠱⢈⠒⡄⠣⡘⣀⠣⢘⠠⠒⡠⢁⠣⠌⠤⠑⡈⠔⡈⠜⡐⠌⢢⠑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡘⠄⢃⡏ ⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⠑⡌⢄⠃⡌⠤⡉⠔⡠⠃⡌⢡⠐⡡⢊⠔⡡⢊⠔⡡⢊⠔⡡⢂⠜⢠⠊⠔⡈⢆⠡⡘⢠⠊⡄⢣⠈⠆⡡⢊⠔⡈⢅⢊⠰⢈⠔⠡⡐⠄⡃⢢⠑⠄⢣⠐⡡⠊⠔⣁⠊⡄⢃⠌⡘⠄⡊⠤⢑⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⠠⡉⠄⡗ ⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⣁⠣⡐⠌⡂⢌⠰⠈⢆⠡⢒⠈⡄⢣⠐⡡⠊⡔⢡⠘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⢡⢂⠱⡈⢄⠣⡘⡐⢄⠊⡔⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⣀⠣⠘⡄⢊⠜⡀⠎⡠⠑⡌⢄⠒⠌⡂⠜⣀⠣⢘⠠⢃⠰⢈⠒⡰⢈⠆⡑⠤⠉⣏ ⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⢌⠢⡑⠨⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⢘⠠⢃⠌⢢⠡⡐⢂⠡⢂⠱⢈⠂⡍⠰⡈⠆⡑⠨⢄⠣⡐⢡⠘⠤⡉⢆⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠲⣌⢧⡞⡤⢃⡌⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⢢⡑⠤⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠒⠤⣁⠣⢌⠂⢆⠡⢂⠥⠑⡨⠐⡌⠢⠑⡌⢄⠢⡁⠎⡠⢃⠌⢢⠁⢎⠰⢈⠄⢃⡇ ⠑⡌⢂⠅⢢⠡⠌⢂⠅⢢⠑⡨⠄⢡⠊⠄⡃⢌⠢⠘⢄⠢⢁⠎⡐⠡⠌⡂⢅⠢⢑⠠⢃⠜⡡⢎⡰⠡⢆⡉⢆⡱⢌⡲⣑⣎⣖⡱⣎⡷⣽⣯⣿⣿⣶⣼⣇⣽⣼⣥⢫⣜⡥⡚⠴⣉⠦⢱⡘⡌⢎⡱⣀⠣⢌⡘⠤⢑⠨⣀⠣⢐⠡⡐⡁⢃⠌⠤⡁⠆⡑⠰⢈⡘⠤⢉⠄⠣⠌⠒⠠⣏ ⢨⠐⡡⠌⢂⠔⡈⠆⡘⢠⠂⢅⡘⠤⠘⡐⠌⡠⠂⡍⢄⠢⢁⠢⢘⡀⠣⢐⠢⠘⡠⢁⠎⡰⡑⢎⡴⣋⣶⣹⣮⣷⣯⣷⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⣒⡥⢢⠍⣒⠰⣡⠚⢤⡘⢄⢃⠒⡄⢢⢁⠒⠄⡡⢊⠐⢢⠐⡡⠌⢡⠂⡔⡈⠆⡌⠱⢈⠡⡁⣧ ⢠⠊⠔⡈⢆⡘⠐⡌⡐⠡⠌⢂⠔⢂⡑⢨⠐⢡⠁⠆⡌⠰⣁⠢⢡⠐⡡⢂⠌⡑⢄⠣⡘⢤⣹⣮⣼⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣤⣓⡤⢋⠖⡌⢎⠬⡘⢤⠃⡌⡘⠤⢁⠢⢉⠄⡊⠔⡈⠆⢒⠠⡑⢌⠰⡁⠎⢠⠁⡧ ⢠⠊⡔⢁⠢⠌⢒⠠⣁⠃⠜⡠⢊⡐⠌⡄⢩⠐⡌⠒⡈⠥⣀⠃⢆⡑⢢⠅⠎⡔⢪⡱⣭⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⡽⣯⢿⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣎⡹⢌⠶⣉⢦⡙⡔⣨⠐⡡⢊⠰⡈⠔⡁⠆⡉⢄⠃⡔⣈⠢⢑⡈⠆⠡⡇ ⠰⡈⠔⡨⠐⢌⠂⢒⠠⡘⠄⡡⠂⠔⢂⠌⡐⠢⠌⡑⢌⠰⢠⢉⠦⡘⢥⢊⡵⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣬⢳⡩⢆⡳⣘⠤⢣⠔⡡⠒⡈⠔⢨⠐⠡⠌⢢⠐⡄⢢⠡⡐⠌⡡⡇ ⢐⠡⢊⠄⡩⠀⠎⠠⠑⡐⠨⠐⣁⠊⠤⠘⡠⠑⡌⢰⠈⢆⡡⠎⡴⣉⠶⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⣣⠱⣉⠖⣡⢎⡱⢊⡔⢡⠘⠨⠄⢊⠡⡘⠄⢒⠨⡐⠢⢐⠡⡐⡇ ⠈⢆⠡⠒⢠⠑⣈⠁⠆⠡⡁⢅⠂⢌⡐⠡⢂⠱⡈⢆⢩⢂⠖⡱⢢⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡳⣌⡚⡔⢪⠔⡣⢜⠢⡉⢆⠉⠤⠑⡠⢊⠤⠑⡄⠣⡈⠔⠠⡗ ⠘⡠⢂⠍⡐⡈⠤⠘⣈⠡⡐⢈⡐⠂⡄⠣⢌⠢⡑⡌⠦⣉⠮⡱⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡱⢎⡱⢪⢕⡪⢱⠐⡌⡘⢄⠣⢐⡁⠢⢑⠠⡑⢠⢉⡐⣏ ⠘⡠⢁⠆⣁⠒⠄⡃⠄⠒⠠⡁⠄⢃⠰⠁⢆⡑⠦⣉⢖⡡⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣣⢭⡓⣎⠖⡥⢣⡐⢡⠂⢢⠁⡔⠡⠊⡄⠱⢀⠢⠐⡇ ⠘⣀⠁⢂⠐⠈⢰⠐⢈⠈⢁⠐⠈⢂⠁⡎⢰⠘⣰⢱⣎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣇⣹⡈⡟⣰⢃⠘⡀⠊⡐⠈⡀⠃⢁⠂⠑⠈⡀⠃⡏ ⠰⣀⠣⢈⠄⠣⢀⠒⡈⡐⢂⠰⢁⠂⡌⢄⠃⡖⣡⢖⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡝⣜⠳⣎⡱⢈⠒⠄⡃⢌⠰⠡⡈⠅⡑⡈⠔⣏ ⠰⡀⠎⡐⠌⣂⠁⠆⢡⠐⣈⠐⠂⡔⠐⡨⢜⡰⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡰⡙⡴⢣⢍⡘⠤⠑⡨⠄⡑⠠⢃⠐⠌⡐⡧ ⡐⢡⠊⢄⠃⠤⢉⡐⢂⠡⠄⢊⠡⣀⠣⢐⢎⡷⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⡳⣌⠧⢆⡑⠢⡑⠤⠑⣈⠡⠌⢂⠜⡀⡗ ⢌⠢⡁⠆⡉⠔⢂⠰⢀⠒⠨⠄⡡⠄⢢⢡⣞⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢳⣭⢚⡵⢌⠣⡐⠌⡡⢂⠌⡂⠅⢢⠐⡇ ⢠⠃⡜⠠⡑⠨⠄⢂⠡⠌⢡⠒⢠⠘⡄⢏⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⢮⢳⡜⣎⠱⡈⢆⠡⢂⠆⢡⠘⠠⠌⡗ ⠄⢣⠐⡡⢂⠱⢈⢂⠡⡘⠄⡘⠠⠒⡌⢯⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣜⢮⠳⣜⡌⢧⠑⠢⢑⢂⡘⠄⢊⠡⠌⣇ ⠘⡄⠣⢄⠡⢊⠄⣊⠐⠤⠑⡈⢅⠊⣼⢿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠾⣙⢦⡙⢦⡉⡱⢈⠤⢈⠜⡀⢒⠈⡇ ⠡⢌⠡⢂⡑⠢⠌⢄⠊⡔⢡⠘⡠⢉⣾⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢼⣫⡝⢮⡹⢦⠱⡐⡡⠌⢂⠆⠡⠌⢂⡏ ⠑⡌⢢⢁⠢⡑⢌⠢⣁⠒⠄⢣⠐⢣⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⢵⣫⢳⣙⢮⡑⢢⠑⡌⠢⠌⡁⠎⠠⡇ ⡑⢌⠢⢌⠢⡑⢌⠒⠤⢉⠜⡠⢉⢾⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⢿⣿⣿⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣯⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡲⣭⢳⢎⠶⣉⠆⡱⢀⠣⡘⣀⠣⢁⡧ ⢌⠢⡑⢂⠱⡈⢆⡉⢆⠡⢊⠔⣉⢾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢾⣿⢼⠃⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⣷⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣵⢫⡗⣎⠳⣌⢒⠡⢊⠔⡡⢐⠢⢁⡧ ⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡘⢄⠃⢆⡘⡰⢾⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣏⢿⣿⣺⡇⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⡎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡭⣿⢧⣛⡬⢳⠌⡆⠣⢌⠢⡑⢌⠰⢁⡇ ⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⢂⠱⢈⠆⡘⢄⠢⣱⢫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣿⣽⢣⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢳⣹⣯⠶⣍⠧⡙⡔⠣⠌⣂⠱⠈⠆⡂⣏ ⢌⠢⡑⠌⠢⢌⠢⢡⠘⡐⢌⠢⢅⣻⡶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⡿⠸⡴⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⣿⡇⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢎⣷⡻⣬⢓⡱⢈⡱⢈⠔⡨⢑⠨⠐⡇ ⢄⠣⡐⣉⠒⡌⢢⠁⠎⡰⢈⠆⡱⢎⡷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣿⣧⢡⠇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣿⡁⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡬⢞⣳⡝⢦⠡⡃⡔⢡⠊⠔⡈⠆⡡⡏ ⡈⢆⠱⡀⢎⠰⠁⢎⠰⢁⠌⢢⠑⣮⣳⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣳⠸⡀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢻⣧⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢷⣭⡳⣝⢢⢃⡱⢈⠆⡉⢆⡑⢂⠡⡗ ⡘⢄⠣⡐⠢⠌⡑⠢⢘⠠⠊⡄⠣⢼⠃⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⠟⠿⢟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣷⡇⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⠁⢻⡧⡘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡌⣷⡻⣜⢢⠃⡴⢁⠎⡐⢢⠘⠤⢁⡗ ⢌⠢⡑⠄⣃⠘⡠⢑⠨⡐⡁⠆⡑⢺⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡉⠅⠂⠀⠈⠀⠀⠈⠋⠝⠻⠟⡿⣚⢥⡐⢻⡜⠹⣿⢻⡫⠎⠆⠀⠱⢕⢿⣿⢿⢻⡟⠛⠹⠋⠙⠻⢿⣿⣟⣻⣏⡝⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⠄⣿⡳⣜⢢⢩⠐⡌⢢⠑⢢⠉⠆⢂⡏ ⠠⡑⢨⠐⡄⢃⠔⡁⢆⡁⢒⠈⡔⢹⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠏⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⠐⠂⠤⢀⡀⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⠁⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠉⠑⠁⣀⡠⠤⠤⠦⠤⢄⣈⠀⠄⠀⠉⠀⠀⠁⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⣿⠂⣿⡳⣜⠢⢆⢩⡐⢡⠊⡔⢨⠘⠠⣇ ⢐⠡⢂⠡⠒⠌⡰⢈⠤⠘⣀⠃⡘⢌⡇⠨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠅⠀⠀⠀⡰⠊⣁⣴⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣌⡲⡄⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢂⡴⣊⣥⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣈⡛⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣿⢸⣿⡕⣎⠱⢌⠢⡘⢄⠣⡘⣀⠣⢁⡆ ⠠⢃⠌⡂⠍⡰⢁⠢⠌⡁⠆⡘⠰⡈⢽⠀⡞⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠑⠤⣀⣤⣴⣿⠟⠉⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠤⣻⡾⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠉⢻⣿⣷⣭⣥⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣃⢾⡷⣙⠦⣉⠦⡑⢌⠢⢑⡐⠄⡒⢠⢃ ⠌⢂⠆⡡⢊⠐⠤⡁⠎⡐⠡⠌⡡⢘⠢⢇⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠈⠪⣕⢄⡙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣁⣼⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣇⣈⢻⣿⣿⣿⡿⢃⣴⡽⠾⠁⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⣻⢷⡩⢖⡡⢂⠱⡈⢆⡁⠆⡘⢠⠂⡇ ⠈⢆⡘⡀⠆⡩⠐⠤⢑⡈⢅⠢⢁⠆⡑⢺⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠠⠭⠉⠁⠈⠁⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠄⠀⣀⠁⠈⠉⠃⠚⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣱⢣⡟⣯⣿⣿⣿⢣⣟⢮⡱⢎⡰⢉⠆⡑⠢⢌⡐⠡⠂⠔⡇ ⠘⡄⢂⠡⡘⠤⢉⠒⠤⡈⢆⡘⠤⠘⢄⠣⢇⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣈⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣟⡾⠮⠷⡿⣷⢻⣿⣏⠶⣑⠦⡑⢌⠢⣁⠣⡐⠌⢂⠍⡐⡇ ⠰⣈⠂⡅⠒⡈⠆⡡⠂⢅⠢⡐⠌⡘⣀⠃⠞⣆⠈⢿⣿⠱⢧⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠟⠀⣠⢾⢏⣿⣿⣏⡳⢥⢒⢡⠊⡔⢠⠃⠔⣉⢂⠒⠠⡇ ⠰⢠⠁⠆⡑⢨⠐⠡⡘⢠⠂⡅⢊⡐⠤⡉⠜⠬⢆⢸⣿⢀⠀⢃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠃⠀⠀⠍⢠⣿⣿⣟⣮⡓⡇⠎⡄⢣⠘⠤⡉⢒⠠⢊⡐⠡⡇ ⠰⡁⢊⡐⢡⠂⡡⠃⡄⠃⡔⢨⠐⡄⠢⠑⡌⡑⢊⢧⣿⡄⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⢿⣿⣟⡶⡹⡜⣡⠚⠤⡉⢆⡑⢌⠢⡁⢆⠡⡇ ⢠⠑⢂⠌⡐⠢⢁⠒⢌⠰⢈⠔⢂⠌⡑⠌⡰⢡⠉⡼⣿⡇⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⣀⣴⡟⢮⣿⣟⣾⡱⢏⠖⣡⠊⡔⢡⠂⡜⢠⠃⡜⡀⠆⡇ ⢠⠊⡔⠨⡐⢡⠊⢌⠂⠜⡀⠎⠰⡈⠔⡡⢂⠅⢪⠔⣻⣿⢤⡤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⢟⡙⢦⣙⢮⣿⣟⢾⡹⣍⡚⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢠⠃⡔⠡⠌⡇ ⠠⢒⠈⡅⡘⠠⠌⢂⠜⠠⡑⢨⠁⡔⠡⢂⠅⡚⠄⡎⢜⣿⣧⢚⣽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⢦⡙⢦⡙⢶⡿⣝⣞⡳⣜⡘⡌⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⠆⠡⡗ ⠘⡄⢃⠰⡈⢡⠘⠄⡌⡁⢆⠡⡘⢠⠑⡌⢢⠑⠬⣐⠊⣽⣷⣩⠒⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡶⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡶⡾⠄⢀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡐⢦⡙⢦⣙⣻⢿⡝⣮⡓⢦⠱⢌⡱⢌⠢⡑⢌⠂⢆⠱⣈⠡⢃ ⠰⢈⠄⡃⠔⠡⢊⠔⡠⢑⠠⠃⡔⢡⠘⡄⢣⠘⠢⡄⡙⢬⣿⡦⢩⢹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠃⠀⠀⠈⠑⠒⠊⠐⠠⠐⠁⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡧⡘⠦⡙⢆⡳⢺⣯⡝⣶⡙⢦⡙⠢⡔⢌⠢⡑⢌⡘⢄⠣⠄⢢⠁ ⠰⠡⡈⠔⡨⠑⡌⢢⠁⢎⠰⢡⠘⡄⢣⠘⠤⣉⠱⢠⠍⢆⢿⣽⢢⡁⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢐⡡⢣⡙⡜⣸⣛⣶⡹⢦⡙⢦⣉⠓⣌⠂⢇⡘⠤⡘⢄⠢⡉⢄⠃ ⠰⢡⠘⡠⠑⡌⠰⡁⠎⡄⢃⠆⡱⢈⠆⣉⠒⠤⡉⢆⢊⡜⡸⣟⡧⡘⡜⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢇⢊⡔⢣⠜⡸⣰⣛⠶⣙⠶⣙⠲⣌⢣⢂⡍⢢⠘⠤⡑⠂⠥⠘⡠⠁ ⠂⡅⠢⢁⠒⡈⠥⡐⢡⠘⡄⢊⠔⡡⠘⡄⡉⢆⠱⡈⢆⡰⢡⢿⣇⠳⡘⢬⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⣤⣤⣤⣠⣴⢲⡒⠶⠬⣥⠲⣖⢲⣎⢯⢏⡷⣶⣶⣴⣾⡿⢿⠷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢏⠰⢊⡔⠣⢎⡱⣱⢏⡳⣩⢞⣡⠳⡌⢆⡒⢌⠢⢍⠒⡌⡑⢨⠡⢐⡁ ⠘⡄⢃⠌⢢⠑⠤⡑⢢⠑⡌⠢⠜⡠⢃⠔⡡⢊⠔⡡⢆⠢⣑⠺⣭⢳⣉⠖⡬⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠉⢃⢯⢣⣉⠝⠛⠷⠾⡷⣮⠷⣞⣛⡛⣏⡹⣜⠣⢎⠰⠁⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⣃⠎⡜⢡⢌⠳⣌⢲⡹⢎⡕⣣⠞⡤⢓⡜⠢⡜⢌⡒⢌⠒⠤⡑⠂⡜⠠⠄ ⠰⢈⠔⡈⢆⡘⠤⢑⠢⡑⢌⠱⡈⡔⢡⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⢌⠢⢡⠎⡹⡶⣡⢚⠤⣃⠳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠢⠍⢺⡹⢲⢣⠳⣬⠻⠴⣉⠖⢣⠓⠌⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡾⢱⡈⣒⡉⠖⣌⠣⡜⢢⡟⡼⣘⢥⡚⢥⠣⡜⡱⣈⠖⣨⠂⡍⢢⠡⡑⢠⠃⡂ ⠰⢁⠊⠔⡠⠌⢢⠁⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡑⠢⢌⡱⠹⣇⡎⢖⡡⢚⡘⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠁⡁⠄⡉⢒⠠⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠉⠛⠦⢵⡠⡙⡌⢆⡓⡌⢧⡝⢲⣉⢦⡙⢦⡙⠴⡱⠌⡎⣄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡐⢡⠂⡁ ⠂⡅⢊⠔⠡⡘⢄⡉⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⠆⠬⡑⣂⠆⢣⡙⣞⢦⢡⠣⡜⡡⠋⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠠⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠃⠠⢈⣗⠢⣄⣈⠳⣜⢢⠱⣌⠳⣜⠣⣜⢢⠝⣢⠙⢦⠱⡩⢔⢢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⠐⢡ ⢨⠐⡡⠌⢂⠅⢢⠐⡌⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⠣⢔⠂⣎⠡⠜⡨⢗⡎⢵⡞⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠎⠐⠠⠁⠂⣾⣿⣴⡏⠀⠈⢶⢣⢌⡳⣌⠳⡜⢪⡜⢢⠝⣢⢣⠑⡎⠴⡈⢆⠱⡈⠆⡌⢡⠸ ⢀⠣⡐⠌⢢⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⡑⢊⠜⡠⢍⠒⡑⠎⢼⠟⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⢋⠔⡈⠄⠂⠠⠑⣺⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣎⠵⣊⡕⢎⡱⢌⢇⡚⡔⣊⠵⣈⠇⡜⡈⢆⠱⡈⠔⢂⢸ ⢈⠒⠄⣃⠢⢡⠘⡄⢣⠈⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⡑⠢⡌⠥⢊⠴⣈⠱⡘⡼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⡝⢌⢂⠂⡐⠠⠈⡐⢠⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣥⢚⠦⡑⢎⠦⡱⡘⢤⠓⣌⢚⡰⢉⠆⡱⢈⠜⠠⢸ ⢈⠜⡐⠄⢢⠁⢎⠰⠡⡘⠄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢃⠆⡌⠱⣈⢒⡉⡒⢌⡡⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠐⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⡴⢋⢎⠱⡈⠆⢂⡐⠠⢁⡐⢤⣻⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣶⡙⡬⢒⠥⣙⠢⡍⡔⢪⠰⡡⢊⠔⡡⠊⡄⢹ ⢈⠔⡨⠘⡀⠎⢄⠣⡑⠤⢉⢂⠒⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⠜⡐⢣⡐⢊⡔⠩⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⡑⢒⠒⠶⢒⠶⡒⢖⠺⣉⠖⡡⢋⠄⢃⠐⡈⠄⠠⢁⠢⣘⢶⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⡿⣧⣋⠖⣡⢃⠖⣉⢆⠣⢒⢡⠊⡔⢡⠐⣸ ⡈⢆⡑⢌⠰⡉⢄⠢⡁⢎⠰⡈⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠎⣑⠢⢡⢃⠬⡹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠠⠉⠄⡃⠆⠱⡈⠒⢄⠊⠄⠡⡈⠄⢂⠐⢨⠐⡡⢎⣵⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣽⣻⢿⣦⣎⠜⣠⢊⠱⡊⠤⢃⠜⡠⠒⢸ ⡐⢄⠰⡀⢆⠰⡀⢆⠰⡀⢆⡐⢢⠠⠚⣄⠣⠜⣠⠃⡔⢢⠘⡤⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣶⡐⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠠⢀⠢⢀⠃⡐⢀⠐⠠⠂⠠⠐⡀⠔⡀⢆⠰⣸⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣇⣾⣻⢿⣧⡄⡚⢤⢃⠲⢄⠰⡀⢆⢸ ⢌⠢⡑⢌⠌⡆⢱⡈⠆⣍⠢⠜⣡⠊⡕⣠⠣⢩⢄⠳⡘⣄⢫⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⣇⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠐⠀⠂⠈⠄⠁⠂⢁⠐⢠⠑⡌⣲⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢽⣞⡷⢯⣟⣷⡿⡜⢢⢍⠲⢌⠢⡑⢌⢸ ⢌⠢⡑⢌⠒⡌⢢⠌⡱⢠⠣⣉⠤⠓⡌⢤⢃⢣⣌⣳⣼⡾⣷⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⡭⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠈⠀⠂⠈⠄⢢⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣯⡟⣿⣞⡇⠙⠻⢥⣎⡱⣊⠥⣃⠌⢼ ⢌⠒⣡⠊⠴⡘⠄⡎⣑⠢⡱⢌⢎⡱⣘⣦⠽⠚⠉⠀⣿⣝⣻⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣔⠡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠁⢌⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣯⣟⢾⡽⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠳⠾⣄⢫⢼ ⢌⡊⢤⡉⠦⣑⢊⠴⣡⢣⣑⠮⠶⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡾⣽⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣳⣞⣯⢿⠝⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢺ ⢢⢘⠢⢜⡱⢄⡋⣶⠵⠚⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣳⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣳⢾⣽⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘ ⢢⡑⠎⢦⣱⠾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⡽⡻⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨ ⢢⠜⠙⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠊⢀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣟⡓⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣄⡑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠊⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣤⢤⣀⣠⣤⣤⣴⣫⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣥⣶⣾⢿⣿⡿⡿⣟⢿⡻⣟⢿⣻⢿⡿⠶⠀⠀⡀⠐⠈⠀⠀⠀⠘⢩⡟⣼⢲⡽⣞⣷⣻⣽⢯⡿⣽⣳⣿⣻⢿⣾⣿⣿⢿⡟⣿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢷⣻⢾⡽⣾⡽⣯⢷⡻⣜⢧⡻⣜⠿⣵⢫⣎⢷⡹⣎⣷⢫⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠃⠀⢧⡻⣜⣯⢿⣽⣳⡿⣽⣻⣽⣟⡷⣯⣟⣯⢟⣾⡹⡾⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⣯⠽⣖⡻⣵⢫⡗⣯⢞⡵⣫⢞⡭⡷⣞⢮⣳⣟⡾⣏⡾⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⣾⢵⣻⣞⣯⡷⣿⣽⣻⣽⢾⣽⣛⡶⡽⣎⠿⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⡼⣝⢾⡹⣞⡵⣫⣞⢧⡟⣼⢳⢯⡷⣧⣻⣽⣳⢯⡇⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⣏⢾⣳⣯⢷⣟⡷⣯⢷⣫⣟⡾⣽⡽⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢾⡹⡾⣵⡳⣽⣺⢽⣏⡿⣶⡽⣳⢷⡞⣽⣳⣭⢠⡴⣲⢖⡶⣲⢞⡳⣝⢾⣯⣟⡾⣟⡾⣽⣳⢯⡟⢎⡵⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⢿⡶⣭⣛⠾⣽⢳⡿⣽⢯⣛⢧⡟⣼⢳⡝⣧⡻⣜⢧⢯⡳⣝⡞⡷⣯⢿⣽⣻⢷⢯⡯⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠷⣭⣻⡜⣯⢳⣯⡟⣼⣓⣾⡱⣏⢾⣱⢻⡜⣯⢞⡵⣫⢞⣵⣛⣮⢷⣫⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠻⠭⢷⣯⢿⣖⡿⣞⡵⢎⡳⢎⡳⣝⢮⣛⡼⣣⢟⡶⣹⢎⡷⡉⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡟⡾⣽⡳⢎⢯⡹⣍⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⢧⡻⣞⣭⡟⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡗⡧⢏⡻⣬⢳⣭⢳⣎⢷⡹⣎⠷⣝⡾⣱⡛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡽⣍⡳⣜⡳⣎⠷⣎⢷⡹⣎⡟⣮⢗⡯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠻⠼⠷⠭⠷⠭⠿⠾⠭⠷⠽⠾⠵⠿⠼⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠈ ⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⢈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠠⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡁⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⢀⣐⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁ ⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠈⠛⠁⠂⢔⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⢐⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⡻⠿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠉⢻ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⡛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣋⣵⡆⠓⢀⣴ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢸⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠁⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⣩⣴⠾⢛⣡⣶⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⠠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣋⣴⣾⠆⢈⣵⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⢯⠀⠨⢰⣶⢲⠈⡋⡐⠒⠚⠂⠉⠉⠉⠻⡿⠟⣫⣴⡶⢙⣫⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣀⠀⠀⠰⠷⠦⠉⠘⢒⣳⣮⣻⣟⢿⠏⡐⢛⣥⣶⠟⠈⠁⠺⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠰⡜⣴⡟⣵⡟⣴⡟⢡⣍⢻⣿⡮⣩⡄⢟⣴⠇⠉⢀⡾⡡⢉⡀⠑⢈⣩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠟⢛⡙⠓⠀⠈⠛⠈⠛⠈⠻⠨⣟⠃⠉⠱⠶⠶⠊⠁⠒⢂⣈⣀⣀⡀⣀⠐⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⡆⠀⠠⠀⢰⣤⣤⣤⡄⣤⢠⣤⢓⡲⢶⣤⣤⣝⣒⡲⠦⢭⡙⣨⣭⣭⣭⣭⣽⣷⣬⡻⣶⠝⠶⣭⣕⣒⠦⠍⠙⠛⠻⢿ ⣧⠰⠇⢠⣿⠀⣨⣁⣟⣛⠯⠿⠟⢿⠸⣿⡞⢏⣅⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⡀⣀⣈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣤⣌⠿⣫⣶⣶⣶⠾⠷⠸ ⣿⣶⣶⠸⡿⢀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣸⣿⡇⢸⠟⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⣝⣈⣛⣋⡉⠉⢉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣡⡄⠀⡙⠉⢁⠀⠀⠀⣼ ⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠸⠿⢷⣾⡆⢾⣿⣭⣍⣿⠇⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠂⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⠂⡀⠀⠀⡬⠀⠀⢰⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⡄⠈⣭⠙⣩⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠠⠀⠆⠀⣆⢾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠘⠀⠀⠟⠀⠀⠠⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠂⠰⠃⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⣀⣀⣈⣁⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⢻⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⠛⣟⠛⢻⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.
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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣟⣿⣿⣻⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣟⡾⣽⣻⣯⣷⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣟⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢯⡽⣳⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢣⣝⡳⣯⣟⡷⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢳⢮⡝⣷⣫⣟⢷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣟⡿⣿⣻⣽⣯⢿⡿⣽ ⣏⢾⡹⢧⣛⢾⣹⢶⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣳⢎⣿⢳⣯⠷⣯⢿⣹⢯ ⣞⣮⣵⣫⣞⣧⣟⣾⣿⣿⣸⠹⢾⣧⣿⣯⢷⣻⣿⣯⣿⣿⣾⣿⣾⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣿⡧⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣹⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣻⢯⣟⣿⣟⣯⡿⣽⣻ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⡾⣽⣯⢟⣾⢯⣿⣽⡿⣽ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣟⡞⣧⢗⡾⡟⠀⡭⠛⡳⢬⣟⣾⣟⣾⣳⢿⡿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢫⣿⣜⢣⣾⢻⡶⠖⠬⣧⠙⠉⢠⡆⠂⡍⢙⣿⡜ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣫⠤⡝⢻⣹⣟⡵⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠢⢡⠆⢸⠀⠖⣫ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠤⠀⠈⢈⡟⡍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⢩ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢁⡀⠀⣨⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢨⡅⠀⢸⠀⠀⠘ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢩⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⢣⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣇⠁⠀⠀⠀⠘ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⢢⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⡠⠃⢇⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠿⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢰⡄⠀⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠼⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡟⣽⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢫⠀⠄⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣱⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⡿⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡄⢀⣀⠄⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⣱⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣟⠀⠀⢉⠠⠀⠂⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠎⣰⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣧⣀⣀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⡏⣽⠻⣝⣻⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣯⢽⡇⠐⠈⠀⠂⢀⠀⠀⢨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⡚⣯⢻⣜⣳⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⢺⡇⠀⡀⠡⠀⡀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠟⣼⣏⠷⣎⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠙⢹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡋⢰⡿⣜⡟⣾⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⢷⣿⣷⠈⠠⠁⠂⠀⠠⡄⠌⡈⠓⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢰⡿⣝⡾⣽⣻⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⢯⣿⣿⡤⠁⡈⠠⢀⠡⢼⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠄⡐⠀⢡⣾⣟⡽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢳⠶⢣⣤⣤⣿⠀⠃⠁⠠⢈⠀⢀⠂⢰⣿⣾⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡿⣍⢦⡙⢿⣭⢫⣙⡧⣖⢲⣒⣖⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣜⡳⢮⣹⡓⣮⣷⣭⣑⢫⢛⡱⢎⡭⢹⠿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⡽⣖⣻⡽⣿⣷⢟⣶⠻⣖⠳⣜⢣⢏⠶⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡹⢯⣟⣿⢿⣻⡧⢎⡳⣜⣧⡙⣎⢮⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
Gɢ❻❼❾❿
𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 1 (𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴀ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ. sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ Chip was adopted at birth by Plankton and Karen, who raised him. But Plankton's autistic, which he only shared with Karen. He managed to 'mask' or hide some of his neurodivergence from Chip, who's got no idea his dad's neurodisabled. Chip walks in the door to his parent's room is slightly ajar. He peeks in, expecting to find his mom tidying up or his dad fiddling with one of his inventions. Instead, he sees his dad sitting still on the edge of his bed, his eye glazed over, his body stiff. "Dad?" But Plankton doesn't move, nor does he acknowledge his son's presence. Chip takes a step closer. He tries to shake him, but Plankton is like a doll, unresponsive. "Dad, are you ok?" Chip's voice cracks, fear starting to creep in. The room feels eerily silent, sans the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Chip tries to recall if he's ever seen his dad like this. It dawns on him that he might be hurt. "Dad?" he whispers again, his voice trembling. The only response is the persistent tick-tock of the clock, echoing in the silence. Chip's mind races, trying to make sense of the unexpected scene before him. Plankton's absence seizure had always been a closely guarded secret, shared only with Karen. But now, Chip's the one who's stumbled upon it, and he doesn't know what it is, nor what to do. He reaches out to touch his father's shoulder, his hand shaking, but Plankton doesn't flinch, despite his discomfort. His eye is open, yet unseeing. The realization hits Chip like a ton of bricks. Something is wrong, terribly wrong. "Mom, you need to come to your bedroom. Something's happened to Dad!" Karen rushes in, a look of concern etched on her screen as she takes in the scene. She quickly assesses Plankton and knew exactly what was going on. She knows Chip has never noticed Plankton's autistic traits. They kept the autism a secret from Chip as per Plankton's request. "It's ok, sweetie," she says calmly, placing a gentle hand on Chip's shoulder. "Your dad's just having a little... episode." Her voice is soft, but firm, trying to ease his panic without causing alarm. She's seen this hundreds of times. And she knew Chip doesn't have the faintest idea of his dad having a condition. "What do you mean?" Chip's eyes are wide with fear, his hands still hovering over his father's unresponsive body. He's never seen his dad so lifeless before. "It's like he's not even there," he whispers. Karen takes a deep breath and sighs. "Your dad doesn't know it's happening, but he'll be fine soon." Chip's eyes dart around the room, his gaze returning to Plankton. "But why?" he asks, voice shaking. "What's going on?" Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of sorrow and determination as she explains, "Your dad's brain does things differently from other people's, and this is one of those times." Chip's confusion deepens. "But wh-" "Remember how sometimes you get really focused on a video game and can't hear me right away?" Chip nods. "Well, this is like that, but his body goes still and he's not really aware of what's around him.." Chip watches as Karen carefully helps Plankton to lie down, placing a pillow under his head and covering him with a blanket. Plankton's eye remains open, but it's not looking at anything specific, just glazed over. Chip's fear turns to curiosity, questions racing through his mind. He's seen his dad in his 'work mode' before, where he's so focused on his inventions that it's like he's in another world. But this seems different. This is scary. Karen sighs. "We'll talk later, ok?" Chip nods, yet his curiosity overpowers his fear. He watches as Karen sits by Plankton's side. "It's ok, Plankton," she whispers, stroking his antennae. "You're safe here; I'm here." Karen's screen never left Plankton's face, her gaze filled with love and understanding. She knows his silent battles, his secret world of challenges. "Plankton, it's me, Karen," she says gently. "You're safe. I'm right here." She speaks softly. Chip, still hovering, can't help but notice the tenderness in her touch as Plankton's body remains still, his eye unblinking. Suddenly, Plankton speaks. "Must...the...yes." Plankton mumbles in a tone that's distant. The words make no sense to Chip, but Karen nods as if she understands. "It's ok Plankton," she soothes. "You're right here with me." The sight of his dad talking to himself sends a shiver down Chip's spine. He's seen Plankton mumble things before, lost in his thoughts, but this is different. It's as if he's in a trance, his eye seeing something only he can perceive. Chip feels his own anxiety spike, wondering what could be going through his dad's mind in this state. "Dad?" "Let him be," Karen says softly. "Sometimes he talks like that when he's coming out of it. It's part of his... process." Plankton continues. "The... ...has to be..." His words are fragmented, his voice trailing off as if his thoughts are racing faster than his mouth can keep up. "What...what is he saying?" Chip asks Karen. Karen's eyes stay locked on Plankton, her expression both concerned and calm. "He's not really talking to anyone," she explains. "It's just something that can happen during these episodes." Plankton's mumbling turns into a murmur. "The... the... it's all..." Karen leans in closer, her voice soothing, "It's okay, sweetheart. You're okay. Just let it happen." Karen knows from experience that the words are not for them, but rather a cerebral dance he has no control over. Chip, on the other hand, is utterly bewildered. The room seems to shrink around them, the air thick with unspoken questions and a palpable tension. Karen's hand never leaves Plankton's antenna, her thumb brushing it gently. "You're safe, Plankton," she repeats, her voice a lullaby. "You're here with me." "The... the... it's..." Plankton says. Chip can't help but lean closer, his hand reaching. Karen's hand shoots out to stop him. "Chip, no!" she says firmly. "Don't. It could make it worse." Her eyes are filled with a knowledge that Chip lacks, a fear that he's only just beginning to understand. Karen sighs. "It's just his brain... recalibrating." The silence stretches out, stifling. Chip watches his father, his mind racing. He's seen his dad's inventions come to life, but this... this is a mystery he can't solve. Plankton's antenna starts to twitch slightly, the first sign of movement since the episode began. "It's over, love," she whispers. "You're okay." Plankton's eye blinks, once, twice, and then focuses on Karen. Recognition slowly dawns on his face, confused. "Whaa-" "You had a moment, Plankton," she says gently. "It's okay." Plankton looks around, spotting Chip. "Chip? K-Karen, what's going on?" His voice cracks with confusion. "What's wrong? Did I...?" Chip feels a surge of relief seeing his dad's eye blink and his dad's voice return to normal. But the question in his dad's voice tells him that Plankton doesn't remember.
1₁¹➀1↿˦⥠1️❶1️⃣
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡶⠁⣠⣴⣾⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣴⣿⠿⠋⣁⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠀⣀⣀⣀⣨⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⠂ ⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⢀⣴⣿⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⠖⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠈⢿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣋⣠⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
2️⃣
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100100%<𝟑
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what the actual flip is going on this website? i just wanted to search for an asteria combo and got a full live story and then some dox what the flip guys 😾
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#KneeSurgery pt. 1 Plankton's foot slipped on the uneven stone. His arms flailed in a desperate attempt to keep his balance. The sickening crack of bone on bone echoed through the stillness as Karen watched her husband Plankton crumple, his face a mask of pain. The quiet evening was shattered by his agonized scream. Karen rushed to his side. Plankton was clutching his leg, his eye squeezed shut. The angle of his lower leg was grotesque, unnatural. It was clear something was very wrong. She didn't need to be a doctor to know that the sound of the snap had been his middle leg bones, breaking. Karen raced as she knelt beside him, his pain a palpable presence. Plankton's breaths came quick and shallow, punctuated by grunts of pain; it was already swelling, the bone jutting under the skin. She knew they had to act fast. "Hold on," she whispered fiercely. "We need to get you to a hospital." Their quiet neighborhood was quickly alight with the wails of an approaching ambulance. The stark white and red lights bobbed through the trees, casting eerie shadows on their panic-stricken faces. The moments stretched into an eternity before the doors swung open and medical personnel flooded out, their movements efficient and calm, contrasting with the chaos of the scene. They moved quickly, strapping Plankton onto a stretcher, his screams of agony piercing the night air as they carefully straightened his leg and secured it in a makeshift splint as Karen hops in. The ambulance lurched forward, the wheels eating up the pavement as they sped toward the hospital. Karen held his hand tightly. "Ma'am, you might want to accompany him into the surgery room, as he'll need an operation." They told Karen. Upon arrival, the doctor spoke in hushed, professional tones, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "It's a serious fracture. We'll need to perform a tibiofibular repair. It's a complex procedure, but our team is prepared. You can stay by him as we operate. Let's get him comfortable first." Karen nodded. "I understand." They transferred him to the operating table, gently arranging his limbs with the precision of experience. Karen held his hand, her eyes never leaving his as the anesthesiologist prepared the medication. Plankton was visibly nervous, his eye darting between the doctor and his wife. To help ease his nerves, the nurse offered Plankton a warm blanket and a stuffed bear, and he clutched it to his chest. The anesthesiologist stepped back, thinking for a moment before speaking up. "We have anesthesia. We can try that. It's not our usual protocol, but in your case, it might be the best option." Karen felt the grip of Plankton's hand tighten around hers. "It'll be okay," she assured him, trying to mirror the nurse's calm demeanor. The doctor nodded in agreement. "We've done this before. We'll take good care of you." The anesthetic began to flow into his veins, and Plankton's eyelid grew heavy. His breathing slowed, and the room grew quiet as his grip loosened and his hand went slack in Karen's. She leaned in, whispering, "I love you," as his eye closed fully, snores now coming from his open mouth. The doctor gave a nod to the anesthesiologist, who nodded back in confirmation. The surgery could begin. Once they finished the surgery, they bandaged Plankton's leg with a cast that went from his toes to his hip, and wheeled him to the recovery room. The doctor explained that it was a successful procedure, though he'd be asleep for several hours. The room was a soft symphony of beeps and whispers, a stark contrast to the chaos of the operating theater. Karen waited, her fingers intertwined with his, feeling his pulse steady and strong under her fingertips. The nurse dimmed the lights. "He's reacting nicely to the anesthesia. It's normal and ok if today he tends to doze off easily." Karen nodded. As Plankton slept on, the nurse adjusts his stuffed bear so that it doesn't press against his cast. She smiles reassuringly at Karen. "He's going to be okay," she says softly. "We'll keep a close eye on his vitals, yet he should be coming around shortly." Karen nods, gratitude in her screen, and squeezes his hand gently. "You can even talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes it helps to hear a familiar voice." Karen leans closer to Plankton's sleeping form. "You're going to be okay. You're going to recover, and we're going to get through this." The nurse nods, a sympathetic smile on her face as she checks the IV dripping pain relievers into his arm. Eventually, Plankton's eye opens groggily, looking around the room in confusion. He winces as the light pierces his pupil, and Karen quickly reaches over to dim the lamp. "It's okay," she says soothingly. "You're in the hospital. You had an accident." His eye finds hers and relaxes slightly as recognition sets in. "My...my leg," he mumbles, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. Karen nods, her thumb brushing his knuckles. "They fixed it. You had surgery. You're going to be okay." Plankton tries to move, but the weight of the cast stops him. "What...happened?" The doctor enters the recovery room. "You had a nasty fall. Do you remember?" Plankton's eye drifts closed, trying to piece together the fragmented moments. The pain, the lights, the sound of his own screams. He nods slightly, the memory firming like concrete in his mind. "We've repaired it. You'll be in this cast for a while, but with rest, you'll be back to normal." Plankton nods again. The doctor nods to Karen. "He'll be sleepy for a bit. We've given him some pain medication." Karen nods. Plankton's eyelid flutters, his gaze unfocused. "Can I... see it?" he asks, his voice slurred by the anesthesia. Karen nods and gently lifts the blanket. The cast, white and pristine, extends from his toes to his hip. "It's going to take some time, but you'll be okay," she repeats, her voice soothing. Plankton's eye focuses on the cast. "It's...big," he murmurs, his voice trailing off as the weight of the medication pulls him back under. His eye droops closed, and his breathing steadies into the rhythmic pattern of sleep. Karen watches his chest rise and fall as they remove the IV. "He'll be in and out of it for a while. It's normal. The body needs rest after surgery." Karen nods, trying to absorb the doctor's words. She's seen people with broken legs before, but never one she loves so much. She thanks the doctor, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's hand moves, his fingers searching for hers. "Karen," he whispers, his voice thick with sleep. Her hand slides into his, squeezing gently. "I'm here," she murmurs, her screen never leaving his peaceful face. The surgery had been a success. The nurse looks to Karen. "I'll get the wheelchair." The chair squeaks into place, and Plankton's eye opens. He looks at Karen, the question in his gaze clear. She nods. "It's time to go home."
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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."
SANDY LEARNT A SECRET 1/2 "Howdy, y'all!" Sandy called out, her voice echoing through the park. Then she notices Karen’s husband Plankton, his eye glazed over, sitting still. He looked so out of place, frozen like a statue by Karen. "Is he ok?" Sandy asked with genuine concern, approaching them. Karen nodded. "It's just one of his moments," she whispered, hoping Sandy didn't hear the anxiety in her voice. Plankton had autism. These absence seizures were something they'd learned to live with, like a quirky dance his body did without his consent. The park was a favorite place. But now, his stillness was unsettling, a stark contrast to the vibrant activity around them. Sandy knew Plankton was different, but she doesn’t know of his neurodivergence. Her heart sank, and she felt a surge of protectiveness. "What can I do to help?" she offered. "Just talk to him," Karen whispered. "Sometimes that helps bring him back." Sandy took a deep breath and knelt down beside Plankton, his gaze vacant as he stared at the swings. "Hey, Plankton," she started, her voice gentle. "What's got you so focused?" She watched his pupil, searching for any sign of recognition. There was none. Her mind raced with questions she hadn't asked before. She knew he was quirky, had his own rhythm, but this? This was new to her. Sandy gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Is he ok?" she asked again, her voice now a low murmur. But Karen was quick to intervene, her hand sliding over Sandy's. "Don't touch him," she whispered urgently. "It's best not to pry during these spells. It might scare him." Sandy nodded, swallowed her curiosity, and leaned back on her haunches. "What causes these... moments?" Karen sighed. "It's his autism," she explained softly. "These are absence seizures. They're like little brain hiccups, where he simply checks out for a while." Sandy's eyes widened, sympathy swelling in her chest. "How often do these happen?" "More often than I'd like to admit," Karen replied with a sad smile. "But they're usually brief. It's just part of he is." She paused, looking at Plankton with a mix of love and concern. "But sometimes, they can be longer." Sandy nodded slowly, absorbing the new information. "What's it like for him?" she asked, her voice low and caring. Karen grew soft. "It's like a daydream, but without his control. He doesn't remember much after..." Her voice trailed off as she studied her husband's unresponsive face. "But when he snaps out of it, he's usually ok. He might be a bit confused, but he's always ok. Although he can wake up feeling scared or upset sometimes." Sandy felt her heart tug with each word. She could see the love Karen had for Plankton, and the pain she held in silence every time he slipped away like this. "Does anything trigger them?" she probed gently. "Loud noises, flashing lights, stress..." Karen counted off on her fingers, her gaze drifting to the bustling park. "But sometimes, it's just because his brain needs a moment." Sandy nodded, taking in the quiet seriousness of Karen's tone. "What's the best way to help when this happens?" Karen's gaze flickered to the swings, where the children's laughter grew more distant as they swung higher. "Just be patient, and keep talking to him. Sometimes, the sound of a familiar voice can guide him back." Sandy took this in, willing her voice to steady. "What do you talk about or say to him?" Karen shrugged. "I just talk sweet nothings. It's more about keeping a calm, soothing environment than the content." Sandy nodded, trying to imagine what that would be like. "How does he react when he snaps out of it?" Karen's expression softened a bit. "At first, he's usually a little disoriented, like waking up from a deep sleep. But he sometimes comes around and tries to play it off like nothing happened. It's his way of coping, as he’s a bit self conscious." Sandy watched as a playful breeze rustled Plankton's antennae, and she wondered what was going on behind his unblinking eye. "Does he ever get upset when he realizes what's happened?" Karen nodded, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening slightly. "It's tough. Sometimes he feels like he's missed out on things, or people will stare." Sandy's curiosity was piqued. "What does he see or feel?" Karen's eyes searched the horizon, her thumb absently stroking Plankton's knuckles. "I know it's like a pause in time for him.." "Does he hear us?" Sandy inquired, her voice a mere breath. "He might, but it's like his mind is in a different place," Karen explained, her eyes never leaving her husband's. "It's like he's in a bubble and we're in the distant background." Sandy nodded. "How long do these episodes usually last?" Karen shrugged, her smile tight. "A few seconds to a few minutes, rarely hours. It varies." Sandy leaned in, even more curious. "Does anything he does before these episodes hint that one is coming?" Karen nodded, her eyes still on Plankton. "Sometimes he'll get a little spacey, or his body might twitch." "What's the worst one you've seen?" Sandy asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen's smile disappeared, her eyes misting over. "One time, it was at the supermarket. He was in the middle of a crowded aisle, and a child's laughter triggered one. The lights were too bright, the noises too loud. It was chaos for him. He was stuck there, unable to move, while everyone else bustled around, oblivious to his silent distress, which worsened as they bumped into him and jostling him even more." Sandy felt a pang of empathy. "How did you get him out of it?" Karen took a deep breath, her hand squeezing Plankton's. "I talked to him softly, tried to keep the environment calm. I asked the people around to give us some space. It wasn't easy, but he eventually came back to me on the ride home. He then took a nap.." Sandy nodded, her thoughts racing. "What if the park’s environment is perpetuating this one?" Karen frowned slightly, glancing around. "It's possible," she conceded. "We've had episodes here before, but they're usually shorter and less severe. Let’s drive him home." Sandy stood up, her hands still shaking a little. "Should I move him, or?" Karen considered for a moment. "I’ll help him up gently." Together, they approached Plankton, and Karen whispered sweetly, "Hey, sweetie, it's time to go home." She lifts Plankton's body holding him in an embrace. "Let's get him to the car," Karen said, her voice still low and soothing as she carries him.
kanbghik ayassmine ♥️100❤️
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OH NOT THE WISDOM TEETH pt. 1 “Ok we got the topical numbing agent rubbed in, so you won’t feel the IV to much,” Plankton’s dentist says. Karen, Plankton’s wife, sat right by the operation chair. Plankton’s getting his wisdom teeth pulled out under anesthesia, hence the IV. They put the IV in his numbed arm. “Now Mr. Plankton, can you count for me?” Plankton nods, “One, two, three...” His eye starts to glaze over. He slurs a bit at the four. “Five... six... sev... sev... sev...” His voice trails off into a gentle snore as the anesthesia takes effect. Karen, with a sigh of relief, watches his body relax into the chair. The surgery room's lights shine down brightly on Plankton's open mouth, his teeth now a battleground. The dentist, with a steady hand, picks up the forceps and begins his work. The chair squeaks slightly as the team of oral surgeons move around. Karen's eyes are glued to the monitor, where an inside view of the procedure plays out. The sound of bone crunching fills the silent room, making her cringe, but she forces herself to watch. The dentist, with a concentrated expression, works with precision. Sweat beads form on his brow as he maneuvers around the stubborn tooth. His assistant, a young fish named Bubbles, hands him tools with quick, efficient movements. They work in silent harmony, their eyes never leaving the monitor or Plankton’s mouth. On the screen, Karen can see the tooth’s root, snaking deep into Plankton’s jaw. The tension in the room is almost palpable, the only sounds the steady beep of the heart monitor and the occasional slurp of saline. The dentist’s face remains calm and focused, his grip on the forceps firm. He leans in closer, his eyes squinted as he tries to see better. Karen’s heart skips a beat as the instrument clamps down on the tooth. She can almost feel the resistance it gives, and holds her breath. With a quick, decisive movement, the dentist yanks the tooth free. A moment of stillness follows, the only sound the quiet thud as the tooth hits the tray. Then, a trickle of blood. Plankton’s chest rises and falls evenly, his snores the only proof he’s alive. Karen reaches over to squeeze his hand. The second tooth proves more stubborn. The dentist wiggles the forceps back and forth, the sound of bone grinding echoing. Bubbles darts in with a suction tube, clearing the way for the doctor to work. The tension builds as they wrestle with the tooth. “Almost got it...” the dentist murmurs, his voice tight with concentration. The monitor shows the root slightly loosening, and Karen’s grip on Plankton’s hand tightens. The room seems to shrink around them, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and the faint metallic tang of blood. With a final, forceful tug, the second tooth gives way. The room exhales collectively as it’s removed. Bubbles quickly steps in to apply pressure to the wound, stemming the flow of blood. The monitor shows the tooth, now free from its bony prison, lying on the tray beside the first one. Karen feels a weight lift off her chest. Plankton’s snores remain steady, oblivious to the victory just won as they inject numbing anesthetic agents into his gums. The third tooth is a quick extraction, and the fourth is a slow, careful dance. The monitor shows every detail in stark clarity: the blood, the bone, the delicate dance of the instruments. Plankton’s snores remain consistent, a comforting reminder that he’s okay, that he feels no pain. The team works in silent harmony, each movement choreographed to perfection. Bubbles disposes of the wisdom teeth as the dentist uses dissolvable stitches to sew the gums shut. Karen’s eyes never stray from the monitor, watching as the gaping sockets are cleaned and packed with gauze. The whole process seems to move in slow motion, each second stretching into eternity. The last stitch is placed, and the dentist gives a reassuring smile. “All done, Mrs. Plankton. Everything went perfectly. Your husband will be out cold for a few more minutes, but he’ll be okay. We’ll take him and you into the recovery room now so he can wake up.” The chair reclines slowly, and Plankton’s body is carefully moved to a gurney. Karen follows closely behind, still holding his hand, her eyes never leaving his peaceful face. The wheels squeak as the gurney rolls down the hall to the recovery room, a softly lit space that feels like a contrast to the harshness of the surgery. The nurses are gentle as they transfer him to the recovery bed, her mind racing with every jostle. The machines beep in a comforting rhythm, and Plankton’s chest rises and falls steadily. She watches his closed eye, yet his sleep remains deep. The nurse checks the monitors and nods, her scales glistening under the soft lights. “He’s doing well, Mrs. Plankton. We’ll keep an eye on him here for a bit longer. The drugs may take some time to wear off completely.”
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿💋💋💋
⇄ ◀ 𓊕 ▶ ↻
what the fuckkkkkkkkk jose you made a even worse joke like go suck a dick i hope catch on fire and fall in a 10000000ft hole and spalt on the fucking ground and am telling your mom again now you can bye to your fucking life you stupid bitch like fuck you funny fact for dumbass santa not real cause i burned him oo and your gf is breaking up with your fat ass like go walk for once you fat fuck 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・

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

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e^᪲᪲᪲.☘︎ ݁˖» ♡ 🇹🇬🇭🇹🇨🇲〽️🔡 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 Damarlı kalpEᥫ᭡Ǝ.ᐟ󠁩󠁱󠁨󠁈.ᐟ📧❌ ᡣ𐭩 🗣️🔤😕☆

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

whoever said "guy stop f-ing saying this web needs to be a f-ing app like what the f-k there lots of f-ing beef like do you guys have brain cells of a d-k sh-t like get a life if you care about f-ing 8 year olds then dont make this a f-ing app if you f-ing do more little kids will get draked like what the skidi bro get a f-ing bro°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・" please chill out like multiple people have said this is a website where little kids come on here to find cute combos so please be respectful ౨ৎ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
tum mare janu ho. 🙇
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😔🥺 sorry joyshree😟😔
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e^᪲᪲᪲.☘︎ ݁˖» ♡ 🇹🇬🇭🇹🇨🇲〽️🔡 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 Damarlı kalpEᥫ᭡Ǝ.ᐟ󠁱󠁨󠁈.ᐟ📧❌ ᡣ𐭩 🗣️🔤😕☆
e^᪲᪲᪲.☘︎ ݁˖» ♡ 🇹🇬🇭🇹🇨🇲〽️🔡 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 Damarlı kalpEᥫ᭡Ǝ.ᐟ󠁩󠁱󠁨󠁈.ᐟ📧❌ ᡣ𐭩 🗣️🔤😕☆-1 waitfor delay '0:0:15' --
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