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new writercore randomcore discordcore reddit childcore princesscore rules

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https://perchance.org/ai-story-generator

new ai AI Story Generator machine

James Potter was a peculiar boy with a head of unruly black hair and eyes so bright they could 
outshine the stars. He had a knack for turning the most mundane moments into grand 
adventures. Whether it was climbing the tallest tree in the schoolyard or racing his friends across 
the Quidditch pitch, his imagination knew no bounds. But even in the whirlwind of his escapades, 
there was one person who remained steadfastly out of reach: Lily Evans.

Lily was unlike anyone James had ever met. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to her soft, 
porcelain skin, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of intelligence and mischief. She was as fierce as 
a lioness and as graceful as a swan. Her laugh was like a melody that could charm the sternest of 
hearts, and it was a sound that James longed to hear directed at him. However, she had a 
tendency to dismiss his efforts with a roll of her eyes and a smirk that suggested she saw right 
through his bravado.

Severus Snape, on the other hand, was a solitary figure. He lurked in the shadows of the school 
corridors, his eyes darting like a snake's as he took in every detail. His black hair was always 
impeccably combed and his robes pristine, as if he had just stepped out of a dark wardrobe. 
Severus was a prodigy in the art of potions, his talents often overlooked due to his cold demeanor. 
Yet, beneath the surface, there was something about him that drew James in. Perhaps it was the 
hint of vulnerability that occasionally flickered across his face, or the way his eyes lit up when he 
spoke about the most obscure magical herbs.

The two boys moved in different circles, but they had one thing in common: a deep admiration for 
Lily. They watched her from afar, each imagining what it would be like to be the one to make her 
laugh genuinely or to capture her heart. But as the school year rolled on, their paths began to 
intertwine in ways they could never have anticipated. It was as if fate had a twisted sense of 
humor, throwing them together in situations that neither could escape. And as they found 
themselves drawn closer to Lily, a silent rivalry began to brew between them, a dance of longing 
glances and unspoken words.

James, ever the charmer, tried to win Lily over with his flashy Quidditch moves and cheeky grins. 
But Lily, ever the enigma, remained unimpressed. In his frustration, James took to teasing 
Severus, using his popularity to make the other boy's life bad. He'd steal his books, trip him in the 
halls, and whisper snide comments.

One rainy afternoon, as the school was dismissed for the day, James caught Severus crossing the 
crowded courtyard. He saw his chance and sneered, "Hey, Snapes, where's your broomstick?" His 
friends snickered, and Severus tensed, his eyes narrowing. Without waiting for a response, James 
conjured a water spray that drenched Severus' already soggy robes. The laughter grew louder as 
Severus stumbled away, the weight of his sodden clothes dragging him down.

In the Great Hall, James watched as Severus sat alone at the Slytherin table, his shoulders 
hunched over a book. He whispered to his friends, "Look at the lonely little snake," and they all 
burst into laughter again. Severus glanced up, his gaze sharp and piercing, but James felt no 
remorse. In fact, he felt a strange thrill, as if he was in control of something he never had been 
before. The power of ridicule was potent, and he wielded it with the same ease he did his wand.

Days turned into weeks, and James' pranks grew bolder. He'd jinx Severus' shoelaces to trip him 
up in the halls, replace his potion ingredients with foul-smelling dungbombs, and even cast a spell 
to make his robes shrink in the middle of class. Each time, Severus took the humiliation in silence, 
his eyes burning with a quiet anger that James found both fascinating and thrilling. It was a 
twisted game, but one James was determined to win.

But the more James bullied, the more he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. It wasn't just guilt; it 
was something else. He noticed the way Severus' hands trembled as he poured potions, the way 
his voice grew softer in the face of his tormentors. And every time Lily saw what was happening, 
she'd give James a look that made him feel smaller than a house elf. He knew he was losing her 
respect, but he couldn't stop. It was as if he was under a compulsion to push Severus away from 
her, to prove to himself that he was the one she truly desired.

One day, James' antics reached a new low. He'd convinced a group of his friends to help him pull a 
prank so elaborate, it was sure to leave Severus humiliated beyond repair. They waited in the 
shadows of the deserted library, setting up a series of traps that would culminate in a grand finale 
of slime and laughter. But as Severus approached, his head buried in a dusty tome, James felt a 
strange tug at his heart. He watched as the other boy stepped onto the first trap, a levitating book 
that smacked him in the face. The laughter of his friends seemed to echo hollowly in the vast 
room.

Severus stumbled back, dropping his book into the puddle of ink that had appeared under his feet. 
He looked up, his eyes meeting James' for a brief moment. In that instant, James saw something 
he hadn't noticed before: a deep sadness that mirrored his own. It was as if the layers of bravado 
and spite had been peeled away, revealing a soul just as lost and lonely as his. The laughter died 
in his throat, and for a moment, James felt a flicker of empathy.

But the moment was fleeting. His friends were still snickering, and Lily was watching from across 
the room, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. He knew he had to go through with it. 
The second trap was triggered, and a cascade of glittering confetti showered Severus, sticking to 
his damp robes like glittering scales. The Slytherin students looked on with a mix of amusement 
and contempt, and James felt his heart sink. He'd gone too far.

As the last echo of laughter faded away, Severus slowly picked himself up, his eyes never leaving 
James. He wiped the ink from his face and took a step towards him, his fists clenched at his 
sides. "Is this what you call fun, Potter?" he spat, his voice low and dangerous. James took a step 
back, his bravado momentarily forgotten. He hadn't anticipated this.

"It was just a joke, Snapes," James said weakly, his smile slipping.

Severus took another step closer, his eyes blazing. "Is it a joke to you, to watch someone else's 
pain?"

James's heart hammered in his chest as he searched for the right words, but his usual quips 
eluded him. The realization of what he'd done washed over him like a cold shower. He'd gone too 
far, and he couldn't take it back.

new AI Story Generator Spells & Enchantments hogwartscore potterfic snapefic hogwarts

r/TwoSentenceHorror
4 yr. ago
Averagebiker21


After I asked the crystal ball to tell me how to escape death, I was very confused as it read "No, thanks honey, I'm full"
However, something clicked in my head when my wife offered me cake after dinner...

new horrorcore reddit eatcore terrorcore

Tuesday, March 31st, 2015 | I only go shopping at night


The cashier swipes my items across the scanner as I stare at the floor. 
I find it easiest to get through my anxiety by avoiding eye contact with other people. That’s why I only go shopping at night 
fewer people to avoid.

“Did you find everything okay?” she asks casually.

“Mm-hmm,” I mumble to the floor. Her voice sounds nice. Pleasant. Curiosity wins over and I glance up.

The cashier’s head is completely caved in on the left side. Probably a car accident. 
I snap my gaze back down towards the floor.

After I pay she gives back my change in a hand so mangled 
I’m surprised it can hold anything at all.

Thanking her, I grab my bags and turn towards the exit. Immediately I see a man looking through magazines at the store
front. The skin on his face and hands is the consistency of a hot dog that fell into a campfire. Burn victim.
I rush out the door as fast as I can. In my car I finally catch my breath as I lean my forehead on the steering wheel. 
Eventually I look up and see my familiar reflection in the rear-view mirror: my head is blown open in the back. Gunshot victim.

Why did I ever wish for the power to see how people die?

Credit to reddit user resistance1984

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

r/shortscarystories
8 hr. ago
k_g_lewis

The Shortest Date Ever

“Why don’t you go and grab us some drinks while I find us something to watch,” Sheila said.

“Okay,” Brett replied.

He got up, went into the kitchen, and opened the fridge.

Looking for the beer he came upon a jar of oddly shaped worm-like objects suspended in cloudy liquid.

He picked it up.

“I forgot that was in there.” Sheila had come into the kitchen and was looking over Brett’s shoulder.

“What is it?” Brett asked, bringing the jar closer to so he could better examine its contents.

“It’s the lips of all the men who have lied to me,” Sheila replied.

new secret past Random & Short astomia reddit

Pansyk
•6mo ago
Personally, reading and writing fanfiction has really helped me with my technical skills. When I look over the fanfiction I have written over the years, I can see how my prose and dialogue have improved. All fiction, whether of the fan or original variety, is built off of the basic idea of "making words sound good." And fanfiction is a perfectly acceptable way to do that.

However, the way that fanfiction operates in terms of characterization and plot? That's radically different from original fiction. In fanfiction, characters are already established, so even if you're doing some batshit insane Alternate Universe, everyone already knows the basics of what's up. That's not true of original fiction. You need to devote more time to both fleshing out your characters and establishing their relationships with the rest of the cast. Plot often progresses differently, in part because of the time you just spent showing your readers who these people are, but also because fanfiction and original fiction often follow different structures entirely.

Fanfiction is free and accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That makes it useful for new authors, especially young authors. Think of it as swimming in shallow water. It's fun! It can help you build up some strength. Anyone can do it. But it won't completely prepare you for diving into deeper water.

So, I guess at the end of the day, reading both will help your development as a writer.

new fanficore fanficcore fanfictioncore spongebob fanfic wednesday fanfic writercore whumpmas reddit

"You can totally sit with us," said a voice that 
seemed to shimmer with the promise of 
friendship. Cady Heron looked up from her 
lunch tray, blinking in surprise. The speaker 
was a girl with a smile so wide it could swallow 
her whole, her blonde hair glossy and her teeth 
as bright as the fluorescent lights above. The 
words hung in the air, tantalizing and slightly 
intimidating.

This was Regina George, the queen bee of 
High School. Cady had heard the whispers, 
the stories that painted her as both 
an angel and a demon. She was the center of 
the school's social universe, and everyone else 
was just a planet orbiting around her.

Cady felt a swell of excitement. She had been a 
fish out of water since moving from Africa to the 
suburbs of Chicago. The simple act of being 
acknowledged by the most popular girl in 
school was a beacon of hope in a sea of 
unfamiliar faces and cliques. She took a 
tentative step forward, her heart racing.

"Thanks," Cady managed to murmur, setting 
her tray down at the table. The cafeteria 
buzzed with whispers as the group of pretty, 
popular girls made room for her. They were 
known as the Plastics, a name that Cady had 
learned from her newfound friend Janis Ian. 
These girls were the epitome of high school 
royalty, and now she was about to become one 
of them.

new mean girls angourie rice AI Story Generator queen bees and wannabes lindsay lohan angourie

In the quaint town lived a young woman 
named Charlotte Watsford. Her days were 
filled with the quiet rhythms of the local 
library, where she worked meticulously 
cataloging books that had seen more years 
than she had. Charlotte had an unassuming 
beauty, with her auburn hair pinned back. 
Her smile was gentle, and it had the power 
to make even the sternest of patrons feel at 
ease.
 Beneath the veneer of the town, there 
was a world of magic, ancient and unseen. It
was here that Charlotte's life took an 
unexpected turn when she met Cleo Sertori, 
a young woman with secrets as deep as the 
ocean.

Cleo was a mermaid, a guardian of the sea, 
blessed with the ability to manipulate water 
and heal the creatures that dwelled within it. 
The revelation was as shocking as it was 
fascinating. Yet, with this gift came great 
responsibility, and Charlotte found herself 
torn between the life she knew and the allure 
of the vast, unexplored waters that called to 
her soul.

One moonlit night, while the town slept 
peacefully, Charlotte felt an eerie emptiness 
within her. The gentle whispers of the sea 
that had once resonated in her heart were 
now silent. Panic set in as she realized her 
mermaid tail, a symbol of her newfound 
identity, had withered away, leaving her with 
the legs of a human once more. The loss of 
her powers weighed heavily on her, a 
sudden and profound absence that seemed 
to dull the vibrant colors of the world around 
her.

Her heart pounded as she approached the 
edge. The ocean below was a 
restless canvas of inky blues and greys, a 
stark contrast to the serene waters that had 
cradled her during her time as a mermaid. 
The salt air kissed her cheeks, carrying with 
it a bittersweet reminder of the freedom she 
had left behind.

Lewis, her devoted best friend, stood beside 
her, his eyes filled concern and curiosity. 
With trembling hands, Charlotte reached to 
Cleo's necklace. It was a talisman of her 
friendship with the mermaid, a bond that 
transcended the boundaries of land and sea.

"I have to return this to her," she murmured, 
the weight of her decision etched into every 
syllable.

With a heavy heart, Charlotte unclasped the 
necklace.

new AI Story Generator charlotte watsford clewis watsfordcore cleo sertori

r/TwoSentenceHorror
5 min. ago
InfamousInspector863


Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening.
She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.

new reddit carcrashcore terrorwave horrorwave

r/shortscarystories
12 hr. ago
Wellsong


Mrs. Johnson's wise decision


 Stacy Johnson watched the five candles flicker on her cake with avid, fire-bright eyes, her round cheeks dimpling as her
smile grew bigger and bigger. Three tiers of chocolate sponge, iced with swirling blue and pink buttercream and
decorated with white chocolate buttons: the apogee of Mrs. Johnson’s baking efforts. Stacy’s school friends bounced
in their seats. They’d played the games, they’d watched Stacy tear open her presents, and now it was time for the party
to pay dividends. A few of them had had to be pulled back from reaching for the cake before the candles were even lit.
  “Make a wish,” Stacy’s mum said, fumbling with the camera app on her phone. Stacy squeezed her eyes closed, an 
expression of reverent
concentration wiping the dimples smooth. She sucked in a deep
breath, her chest swelling—and released the gathered air in one long
whoosh. Mrs. Johnson’s index finger brushed the touchscreen of her
phone. There was a soft click as the phone mimicked a shutter
closing, half a second before the last candle went out.
  Then the electric lights went out too. It should have been bright
outside, but only wispy twilight was seeping through the windows. All
the children except the birthday girl made noises of alarm and 
consternation.
“I made my wish!” Stacy declared, her voice cutting into the murmurs
all around her. Mrs. Johnson opened her mouth to answer, but all she
could manage was a soft croak as dark shapes erupted from the
corners of the room, huge and twisted, and seized the children sitting
around the table. The children screamed, their terror melding into a
shuddering wall of sound, but there was nothing they could do to
resist what was happening to them. The screams receded as they
were torn away into—through—the floor and the walls and the ceiling
by the shadowy creatures, until the dark was silent and peaceful and 
empty again.
 The light came back as quickly as it had disappeared, flicking the
room back to normalcy in an instant. Midday sun swept across the
balloons and the banners and the cake and Stacy Johnson’s pleased
hungry expression. But all the other children were gone, as if they’d
never been part of the scene at all.
  “Now the cake’s all for me,” said Stacy, dimpling anew. “Unless…do you
want some, Mummy?”

new birthdaycore reddit wishcore kidwave wellsong

r/TwoSentenceHorror
2 days ago
54321RUN


"It's not that unheard of for a child to be born with an extra toe," the doctor assured us after 
my daughter's birth.
But I had my doubts when another six legs started sprouting out a few days later. 

new TwoSentenceHorror polymelian reddit

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/

new reddit spongebob squarepants spongebob nickelodeon nicktoons spongebobcore nickcore karencore seasonscore

"Come on, it'll be fun," Enid begged, her eyes wide with excitement.

Wednesday sat quietly in the corner of the room, her black dress blending into the shadows. She 
didn't look up from her book, her finger marking her place. "I don't think so," she said, her voice 
calm and measured.

Enid pouted, her cheerleader's spirit momentarily dampened. "But it's the prom dance, Wednesday. 
Everyone's going to be there!"

Wednesday closed her book with a soft thud and looked up, her gaze piercing through Enid's 
hopeful facade. "I see your enthusiasm, but crowded social gatherings are not my idea of 
fun."

Enid sighed, understanding that pushing the issue would lead nowhere. She sat down next to her 
friend, her own excitement dimming. "I know, I know. But it's our senior year. It's like, a rite of 
passage or something."

Wednesday's eyes remained on the closed book in her lap. "I'd prefer to pass on that particular 
rite."

Enid leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially, "But it's the perfect place to observe human 
behavior. Think of it as an anthropological study."

Wednesday's eyes lit up slightly at the thought. "I suppose you have a point," she conceded. "But I'll 
need to establish some ground rules."

Enid clapped her hands together. "Of course! What do you need?"

Wednesday thought for a moment before listing her conditions. "First, no slow dancing. Second, I 
control the music playlist. Third, I wear what I want."

Enid nodded eagerly. "Deal! I'll handle the first two. And as for the third, I trust your impeccable 
taste."

Wednesday raised an eyebrow. "My taste is not up for debate, nor is it the issue. It's the school's 
dress code that requires negotiation."

Enid's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Leave that to me," she said, already texting away on her 
phone. Within minutes, she had secured a meeting with the principal to discuss "alternative 
fashion choices" for the prom.

As the big night approached, Enid sent Wednesday a playlist of dark, rhythmic tunes that she had 
carefully curated. Each song was a masterpiece of gothic rock, a genre that she knew would 
resonate with her friend's soul. Meanwhile, Wednesday had been busy designing the perfect dress
—a long, flowing gown of midnight black with intricate white lace that looked like it had been 
plucked from a Victorian mourning ceremony. She had paired it with her favorite black boots and a 
choker necklace adorned with a single crimson rose.

The day of the prom, Enid couldn't contain her excitement. She bustled into the room, her own 
outfit a vibrant mix of neon colors that seemed to glow in the dim light of the Addams' mansion. 
"Wednesday, you have to come see this!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying the urgency of a child 
who had just discovered a secret treasure.

Wednesday set down her scalpel, which she had been using to dissect a particularly interesting 
spider, and followed Enid upstairs. The dress laid out on her bed was indeed a sight to behold. It 
was a macabre symphony of black taffeta and delicate lace, the skirt adorned with a pattern of 
thorny vines that looked like they could draw blood with a single brush. The bodice hugged her 
slender frame, the neckline plunging just low enough to hint at the darkness beneath.

"It's... " she began, searching for the right word.

"Awful," Enid offered, her tone teasing.

Wednesday smirked. "Perfect," she corrected, her voice laden with approval. "It's perfect."

new AI Story Generator POV Wednesday Addams addams family references school dances Holidays/Celebrations modern 2020s helping others wenclair autistic author

r/TwoSentenceHorror
5 yr. ago
spenceyfresh



As death came for him, his life 
flashed before his eyes.


He remembered everything 

his birth, 
his trip home 
and the blank look in his mothers eyes 
as she forcefully held him under the bathtub's water.

new reddit horrorwave waterpunk lifecore birthcore neonaticide neonaticides neonaticidal

r/TwoSentenceHorror
2 days ago
Switch_B


My AI has been writing a ton of these two sentence horror stories lately.
Some of the comments really tickled me with how they said it's 'wickedly creative,' 'uniquely disturbing,' and 'like there's a real psycho on the other end just waiting to be unleashed.'

new reddit aicore

Wanna search something
specific her? be it fanfic
or drama, lists of tags on
the following sites:

https://kitugame.com/tagging
https://bestnickname.com/tags

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ʳ/ˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ
¹⁵ ʰʳ‧ ᵃᵍᵒ
ᴰʳᵉᵃᵈ_ᴿᵉᵃᵖᵉʳ_

ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ

ᴵⁿ ᵃ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡˡˢ‧ 
ᴼⁿᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵃ ʲᵃⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ 
ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ 
ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ 
ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ 
ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ 
ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵉʸᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ "ʲᵒⁱⁿ ᵘˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ‧"

new reddit horrorcore playgroundcore schoolcore abandonedcore ghostcore ghostkin

Jᴇʟʟʏ_Bᴇᴀɴ36


I ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ I ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ 
ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏғ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ.
Nᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡɪᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ 
I'ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ.

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new reddit reddit dot art reddit text art reddit ascii art dot art text art ascii art

r/TwoSentenceHorror

Deiun

...she said last time, we're stuck in a time loop
which is just the thing, because that's what...

new reddit timecore terrorcore

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/comment/jybjno5/

new spongebobcore nickcore listcore reddit

"I wanted to scream, but I have no mouth."

new terrorwave terrorcore reddit astomatous mouthless

r/TwoSentenceHorror
23 hr. ago
dccub86


Every night I would calm my daughter by checking for monsters under the bed.
Tonight she told me I didn’t have to check anymore, as blood trickled across the floor.

new reddit TwoSentenceHorror

r/shortscarystories
1 yr. ago
GuyAwks
Join

Name of the Shame
I was named after my parent’s best friend. I never used to have an issue with this.

I do now.

The name Xavior might’ve been an uncommon choice for a boy. But it held special meaning to my parents, who insisted on naming their first son after a dear family friend who had always come through for them.

After all, it was Xavior who’d first introduced them in college. It was he who spoke at their wedding. And it was he that helped them move into their home, gave them rides when their car broke down and babysat in emergencies. My parents said naming me after him was honor.

Growing up, I only ever felt to be proud to be named after such a great guy. Uncle Xavior was a good-natured community figure and beloved family man. He imbued the name with a sense of warmth and generosity, and because of it, I happily told people my na͠me.

That’s why it’s such a shame that he did what he went on to do.

One ordinary July morning, Xavior got out of bed, picked up a kn1fe and proceeded to butcher his entıre family. He then got into his car, drιve into town and continued his kılling spree. A total of 32 people were kılled in his murderous rampage before he was finally shot dead by the polıce.

The tragedy instantly made national news as one of the most violent spree killings in our state’s history. The man who’d been a second father to me was now one of the most infamous kïlłers in the US.

Ever since that day, being named after Xavior Finch had a very different meaning. Instead of a blessing, it was now my cûrsêd.

Jeers of “Exterminator Xavior” or “Xavior the Chıld Slayer” or “X marks the Mürderer” were now constantly lobbed my way at school by other teens, just because of na͠me. Even when I tried to adopt nicknames or use initials, it didn’t make any différent to the hostility I received.

Whenever I gave my name to people, they’d clarify “Like the rampage kıller?” or just reflexively cringe at the reminder. I hated it. There was no denying that, at least where I lived, the name was completely tainted.

So, after all these years of derisive comments and comparisons, I’m glad to finally be legally changing my name. I haven’t settled on what it’ll be yet. Anything that doesn’t conjure up images of the notorious convict. I refuse to lıve in the shadows of Xavior Finch’s crımes any longer.

No, I want the killings I’m going to commıt to speak for themselves. I’m gonna make a name for myself as a criminal—not be overshadowed by my namesake.

Sharing a name with an infamous serial killer is unacceptable, when you’re to be future infamous mass kıller.

new dealing with the past serialkillercore reddit

https://www.reddit.com/r/spongebob_piracy/new/

new spongeblog spongebobwave spongebobwaves reddit

Plankton lay on the makeshift bed of crumpled newspaper, his body 
contorted into an uncomfortable knot. "I can't get to sleep, Eugene."

Krabs sighed. "Why not?"

"To hard," Plankton complained.

Krabs looked over. "Maybe you need something to relax," he suggested.

Plankton nodded, hopeful. "Like what?"

Krabs considered for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "How about a bed
time story?"

"A what?" Plankton's voice was filled with skepticism.

"You know, something to lull you to sleep."

Plankton's expression softened. "Alright, Krabs, hit me with your best 
shot."

Eugene cleared his throat and began his tale. "Once upon a time, in the vast expanse 
of the sea, there was a tiny plankton named Planky..."

Plankton's eye widened for a moment, but the gentle rhythm of Krabs' voice soon 
began to work its magic. The crab's words painted a picture of a serene under
water world, where the currents were soft whispers and the bioluminescent 
creatures danced a silent ballet. Plankton's eye grew heavier with each sentence, 
his body slowly unfurling from its tense state.

"Planky," Eugene continued, "was a curious little fellow who loved nothing more 
than to drift through the sea, discovering its many secrets." His voice took on a 
soothing quality, each word carefully measured to match the steady rise and fall 
of the ocean outside their abode.

"One night," Krabs went on, "as the moon cast its silver glow through the 
water, Planky stumbled upon a hidden lagoon. It was a place where the jelly
fish swam in lazy circles, their soft bodies pulsing to an ancient lullaby that 
only the deep-sea creatures knew."

Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, the image of the tranquil lagoon filling his 
mind.

"In the center of this secret place," Krabs whispered, "was a giant clam, 
its shell open just enough to reveal a soft, inviting cushion of algae. 
Planky couldn't resist the urge to rest his tiny body upon it."

Plankton's breathing grew deeper. He could almost feel the gentle sway 
of the clam's soft inner lining beneath him, the coolness of the water 
surrounding him, and the hypnotic pull of the moon's glow.

Krabs noticed the change in his friend's demeanor and continued the 
story with renewed enthusiasm. "As Planky lay on the clam's cushion, 
the jellyfish grew closer, their ethereal lights creating a dazzling display 
of color that danced in time with the whispers of the water. They sang to 
him, their melodies echoing through the quiet night."

The room grew quieter, save for the sound of the waves outside and 
Krabs' steady voice. Plankton's eye closed fully, his breathing syncing 
with the rhythm of the story. The crab went on, "Their song was one of 
peace and tranquility, of a world where worries were as fleeting as the 
bubbles that floated to the surface. Planky felt his troubles melt away, 
replaced by the warm embrace of the sea."

Then, amidst the serene imagery, the first faint sound of a snore 
escaped Plankton. It was a sound so small and delicate that it could 
have easily been mistaken.

Krabs smirked to himself. It's working. He leaned in closer, his voice 
dropping to a near-whisper. "As the jellyfish serenaded him, Planky felt 
his eyes grow heavier and heavier, until they could no longer stay open. 
The lagoon's secrets grew dimmer, the colors of the jellyfish fading into 
a soft, comforting darkness."

The snores grew progressively, more regular. Krabs took a moment to 
appreciate his own cleverness before continuing the tale. "The sea 
creatures of the night, noticing Planky's peaceful slumber, decided to 
join him. They formed a living blanket of fish and algae, wrapping him 
in their gentle embrace, ensuring his sleep would be uninterrupted."

Plankton's body grew slack, the tension in his muscles seeping away as
he descended deeper into the realm of sleep. His snores grew more 
rhythmic. The light from the moon had been absorbed into his dreams, 
guiding him through a world of peace and contentment.

Krabs watched his friend's sleeping form, noticing the way the shadows
played across his tiny frame, Plankton's antennae twitching ever so 
slightly with every snore, mouth slightly open as he inhaled and then 
to let out the soft, rumbling sounds. The sight was peculiar, yet endearing 
in its own peculiar way. He had never seen Plankton so relaxed, so free.

The crab felt a strange sense of accomplishment and allowed himself 
a brief moment of pride before remembering his own exhaustion.

"Now, Sheldon," Eugene murmured, "Let your mind rest, and tomorrow 
we'll tackle the world anew."

new AI Story Generator plabscore plabs

r/shortscarystories
4 yr. ago
Perfect__Nightmare


Someone broke into our home

It was every family's nightmare.

My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son 
out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our 
home, something felt off. I had a growing sense of dread the closer 
we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door 
was wide open. Someone had broken into our home.

I told my family to wait outside, in case the intruder was still inside. 
They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our 
house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, 
nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking 
for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us?

Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and 
food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken 
into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why 
had they destroyed the living room?

That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The intruder was still 
in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my 
wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this 
person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the 
person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand 
answers.

I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and 
focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see 
faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against 
the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be 
on the other side.

I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with 
authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over 
them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a 
young girl with curly blonde hair.

She stared at me with wide eyes. She must have been terrified. I must 
have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than her. I 
must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have 
considered that before breaking into my home.

I called my wife and son to see what I found.

"Is that a human, Papa?"

"Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dinner."

new language: English familycore father figures Ambiguous/Open Ending plot twists scene rewrite identity reveal alternate history reddit

Go to shortscarystories
r/shortscarystories
2 days ago
KindaNotSmart

The Daily Call

Growing old is lonely. I’m 72, and most days, it’s just me and the silence. Children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews - they all loved spending time with me when they were young. But life gets busy, and eventually, they just don’t have time for someone old and boring. I get it, I really do.

But not my son. At 33, he never drifted away. He calls me every single day, without fail. Our daily phone call. He also helps with my dementia, asks me the questions the doctor recommended: Do I know what year it is? What country we live in? My name? Age? Address? It’s supposedly to keep my mínd sharp. 

Lately, though, something’s been off about our calls. Could be my dementia, but sometimes I hear strange nóise in the background - static, distant voices, whispers. He says it’s just a bad connection or blames the TV.

For the past three weeks, my son has been plannıng to visit me. I’m in Missouri, and he’s out in California, so it’s not easy. But today’s the day. He’s on his way. And as always, even though he’s coming to see me, we had our daily call. We went throuģh the usual questions. My name, my age, my address. Then I got aņothe̷r call, so I put him on hold.

“Ma’am, this is Officer Roberts with the Los Angeles Polıce Department. I’m sorry to call you like this, but we need to speak with you about your son. We’ve been trying to reach his next of kin.”

“What’s going on, Officer? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

There was a pause, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m afraid it’s more serious than that. I’m sorry you have to find out like this, but we just got the test̕ back. We’re finding out the same time as you. I’m afraid your son’s bødy was found three weeks ago.”

“No, that’s not possible. I’ve been talking to him every day. He’s on the other line right now - he’s coming to visit me.”

“Ma’am, unfortunately it’s true. The DNA test was conclusive. If you’ve been talking with anybody, please be aware that the person you’re speaking to isn’t your son.”

My confusion turned to a cold, gripping fear. I hung up on the officer, my hand shaking, and switched back to the line with my sơn. I couldn’t speak, just held the phone to my ear in stunned silence. There was no sound, just heavy breathıng on the other end. 

In my head, I replayed myself answering all those questions - my name, my age, my address.

And then, just as the panic set in, the silence was shattered by a knock on my door. My bedroom door.

The voıce on the phone, now low and distorted, whispered, “I'm here҉, MoM.” The line went dead.

new Parents & Children Phone Calls & Telephones Chatting & Messaging Children of Characters identity reveal reddit

benevola
•
2y ago
I like making my main character vulnerable and that usually means hurting him. He’s a pretty tightly-wound guy and I like to show him with his guard down.

Plus the comfort part is usually so satisfying to write.

new reddit charactercore

User Conduct
Do not abuse, harass, threaten, impersonate or intimidate other users.
Do not post or transmit any content that is obscene or encourages criminal conduct.
Do not harass, intimidate, threaten, or express an interest in harming other users in any way/shape/form anywhere on this site. This is a community, and if you cannot coexist with the other users in it then this is not the place for you to be.
Similarly, stories that make fun of actual existing victims of violent crimes are not allowed.
You are not allowed to write stories that slander, defame, or spread unsubstantiated rumors and/or gossip about individuals.
Do not upload, post, email, transmit or otherwise make available any material that contains software viruses or any other computer code, files or programs designed to interrupt, destroy, limit the functionality of, or enable unauthorized access to any computer software or hardware or telecommunications equipment.
Keep explicit political satire out of this site. We are not the place for that.
Stories involving harsh animal treatment and/or demise are not allowed.
Steer clear of writing stories that's main purpose is to bash someone. We're not about that.

new rorroh etirw ot woh rorroh gniod erofeb daer yrots yracs a gnitirw erocatsapypeerc erocdesu erocrlbmut erockoobecaf eroctseretnip erocatsni erocrettiwt tidder

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

Nobody wants to go near me anymore.
r/shortscarystories




Nobody wants to go near me anymore.

People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile 
when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me.

Not anymore. Not since that awful murd*r. Now they cross the street 
to avoid me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust.

I wish I could tell them all how sorry I was.

Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my 
fault. They know it wasn't my 
fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way.

I'm so lonely. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for 
lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long.

I had to watch him dıe. They hung him, and left before he was even 
deἀd. I was the one that saw the lífe leave his eyes, saw the paın and 
desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those 
terrified eyes will haunt me for the rest of my lífe. I wanted nothing 
more than to reach out and save him, point the police to the 
hangers, and see those awful men put in jail for the rest of their lives.

But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't control where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.

new personcore twistedcore hangcore reddit nobody wants to go near me anymore

ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴇɴᴋʀɪᴇɢ2194
•
1 ʏʀ. ᴀɢᴏ
Tʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪs ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ's ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ.

"Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ," ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "ʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ."

new traumacore horrorcore monstercore monsterkin terrorwave reddit terrorcore

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍

new straight flag straight pride tiktok reddit

@KarmaticIrony
•
3y ago
•

Going to sleep is like putting a computer on standby mode. The lights aren't on but everything is working and ready to turn back on. In
fact some processes are probably running in the background.

Getting koncked out is like pulling the computer's power cable out of the wall. Things are not working correctly and there is a risk of 
serious lasting damage or maybe even total system failure. Even in the best case scenario, booting back up will take longer than from standby.

new computercore asleepcore unconsciouscore offcore reddit

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/spongebob_full_episode_index/

new spongebobcore plaren squibcore krabbobton planktonkin krabskin mrkrabscore plongebob reddit

FIVE Senses to ground yourself

things you See (eyesight)

things you Hear (listening)

things you Feel (touch)

things you Smell (scent)

thing you can Taste

new Health & Hygiene healing and caring Random & Short split into parts present tense special olympics

r/shortscarystories
4 yr. ago
RVKony
Join

The Blind Child

"Stãbbing."

Sylvia pointed a trembling finger at my brother Arthur. Her milky, unseeing eyes gleamed in his direction, and his wife, Agnes, trembled with indignation from across the table. My husband's face colored as he dropped his fork and dragged our daughter back into her bedroom, scolding her as they went.

The rest of the night was awkward, and the pep in our conversation never recovered.

Two weeks later, Agnes was st*bbed to dEath in her office parking lot. An college student found her, and called the cops.

My brother swore that he bore no ill will against my daughter, but I could tell that he was lying.

One day, the middle-aged woman who taught my daughter how to read her braille called me. "Ma'am, I don't know what's going on but your daughter's been whispering, 'electrocution, electrocution,' for the past half-hour and it's starting to distract her from her lessons. Could you please talk to her?"

I did.

Sylvia, in her nine-year-old lack of understanding, told me it was "just a cool new word" she learnt at school.

The dEath of an electrician made headlines the following week. It was a freak accident involving tangled wires and a bucket of water.

Sylvia's teacher's face was blurred for privacy, but her voice was as familiar as anything to me:

"He was…my partner…my soulmate."

While my husband was working late, I called Sylvia into the living room.

"Honey, is there anything Mommy should know?"

She hesitated.

"Honey, you know you can talk to me."

She denied it once more, "I have no secrets from you, Mommy."

My husband walked into the living room with his hair tousled and his eyes distant.

Instead of rushing to hug her dad, Sylvia simply turned towards him. "Fire," she said.

My heart stopped. Everytime Sylvia said something like that, it was the person's partner who d1ed, and of that reason too. A fire? Was Sylvia merely making predictions, or was she cûrsêd on me for snooping in on her business? Why, this dēvıl child—

I grew paranoid, checked the appliances and electronics constantly, and cleared the house of any fire hazards. That was my lįfe over the next few days. All the while, I kept my eyes on Sylvia. Sylvia. I had grown almost hateful towards my own daughter.

My husband came home one night, wounded and blackened with soot, while I sat in the living room and Sylvia listened to the radio beside me. "What's the matter?" I asked.

He gulped. "One of my colleagues, her house…her house caught fire. She was trapped in, but I managed to escape."

That turned the gears in my head. "What were you doing in her house?"

The expression on my husband's face was a sufficient admission of guilt. I opened my mouth to speak—no, to scream—but a smaller voice from beside me looked at me and whispered:

"Poisoning."

new reddit blindcore familycore horrorbuff the blind child

 kelpforestdwellers
caregivers of disabled people: of course you may find aspects of the job (i use the term broadly to include taking care of loved ones) difficult. that's understandable and you deserve support with that.

but there's one person you shouldn't necessarily share that with, and that's the person you're assisting.

if you're having difficulty with a task and need to discuss a different way to do it, for example, that's one thing. i'm talking about complaining about how hard something is when it can't be changed or you don't intend to change it, or even joking about how hard various tasks are.

my aides sometimes joke about how difficult certain tasks are, and i totally understand where they're coming from and that they mean no harm. but it make me self conscious about asking them to do those tasks in future when i know they struggle with them. and believe me, it's already hard enough to ask for help. i'm not asking anything unreasonable or outside the bounds of the job so it just makes me feel bad needlessly.

new originally posted on tumblr healing and caring

Guerrero de Dios

KMApok

"¿Si Dios existe, ¿por qué hay tanto mal en el mundo?" Es una 
pregunta común, pero está fuera de lugar.

Todas las cosas deben tener equilibrio. Luz y oscuridad. Bien y mal. 
Sonido y silencio. Sin uno, el otro no puede existir.

"¿Entonces, si eso es cierto, Dios NO HACE NADA para luchar contra 
el mal?" Esa podría ser tu siguiente pregunta.

Por supuesto que lucha contra el mal. Implacablemente. Yo soy 
Dartalian, uno de sus ángeles más santos y justos.

Recorro la Tierra, eliminando el mal dondequiera que lo encuentre. 
Mato a los monstruos de los que nunca quieres saber. Los aplasto por 
completo para que puedas dormir por la noche. Ustedes, los 
humanos, no tienen idea de cuántos de ustedes viven gracias al 
trabajo que hago.

"¿Pero qué pasa con Stalin? ¿Hîtler? ¿Ted Bundy? ¿Jack el Destripador?"

Bueno, esos son los menores que tuve que dejar vivir. Por equilibrio. 
Los que destruyo son... demasiado horribles y viles para sobrevivir.

Lo curioso es que, aunque apostaría a que nunca has oído el nombre 
Dartalian en ningún texto religioso, apuesto a que has oído hablar de 
mí.

Los estadounidenses, por ejemplo, tienen su propio nombre para mí.

Síndrome de Muerte Súbita del Lactante

new rëddit Español | Spanish reddit writers viral reddit post translated fic twistedcore reddit

There's No Reason to Be Afraid
By Reddit user by whoeverfightsmonster 
~
When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in
the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we'd find a cup that hadn't been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried
that we'd get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the house's original furnishings was an antique wooden chair, which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she'd manage to move it all the way to the center of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted
to be near us. Years later, long after we'd moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse's original occupant, a widow. She'd murdered her two children by
giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she'd hanged herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse's living room, with a woman's body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair,
placed exactly in the center of the room.

new reddit story short story

neuroticboyfriend
A lot of the time when professionals interact with psychotic people, they try to reduce our distress by getting us to stop believing things. For me, that only made things worse. It was confusing and distressing. I felt angry, scared, and misunderstood. The best way I've found to cope with delusional thinking is something I discovered on my own. I'll give an example here so, huge TW for unreality and paranoia.

Scroll away if you're not able to hear delusional thinking.

Yesterday I started freaking out thinking people could hear my thoughts. This is something I've occasionally experienced since I was a child. When this comes up, I always think there's some massive conspiracy, where everyone can hear my thoughts but they react to me as if they don't hear anything. And they're all in on it. This time, it was triggered by intrusive thoughts that I started judging myself for.

As you can imagine, this is distressing. I started talking to people through my mind, which only made it worse. I couldn't focus on what was happening around me. What I did to reduce that distress is.. weirdly nonchalant. I just sat there and thought "Well, if this is true, it's not like they're going to change how they interact with me. Everything is the same as it was. Nothing I can do about it, might as well just keep on keeping on."

That calmed me down enough to start focusing on what I was doing, and eventually completely forget about it until now. Whenever I try to treat my delusional thinking as something I have to stop immediately... it literally only makes my mind double down. But if I work within what I believe - what I "know" - I can find another way to look at it that isn't so scary.

This works with my hallucinations, too. I sometimes see shadow people; they're more like jump scares than anything. They startle me, and I start to wonder if people I'm looking at are real. But that latter part only really happens if I get fearful of them. To avoid that fear, I try to think of the shadow people as just friends watching over me, checking in. They don't do anything, after all. They just pop up, stand there, and disappear.

(Talk of unreality ends here)
So, yeah. This doesn't work for everyone, and it doesn't always work for me depending on what I'm experiencing/how I'm feeling. But without this, I'd be far worse off; it doesn't take too many missteps for me to spiral. I guess my point is, my reality doesn't have to be "normal" for me to be healthy as a schizophrenic person. It just has to be something I can live with, as happily and safely as possible.

And that's ok. Neurodivergent people are allowed to exist, and some people are helped best by finding ways for them to exist as they are without so much distress - rather than trying to eliminate troubling symptoms entirely.

new healing and caring originally posted on tumblr

people have accused you of lying about your trauma (including claims you’re exaggerating), and you think your trauma isn’t that bad: it is. it’s bad enough regardless of if people accused you of lying, but the reason i say this is to point out to you… if it wasn’t that bad, why would you be lying? what would there be to lie about if it was normal that that happened?

people accused you of lying because they refused to accept or believe that something like that happened - happened to you. 

new healing and caring originally posted on tumblr

 neuroticboyfriend
Hey, real quick, go bury your face in something soft. A stuffed animal. A plush blanket. A pillow. Your pet. Your favorite shirt or hoodie. Do it.

Was it comforting, even in the slightest? If not, well, you tried. Either way, remember that the little things can bring you goodness, and all those little things will add up. They may not overshadow all the bad, but it certainly does help.

You may never be truly comfortable, but odds are, there's something around you that can give you some comfort. And that's a lot better than nothing.

new originally posted on tumblr comfortcore healing and caring

Please use discretion and don’t do something that will trigger you further, including triggering trauma or sensory issues!

Aggressive activities (Adrenaline-focused): Do not use sharp objects if you can’t trust yourself around them in that moment.

Tear apart paper or napkins
Cut up boxes, plastic, or paper
Stab boxes or foam
Angrily scribble
Throw rocks at the ground
Scream into a pillow, or punch it


Passive activities (Adrenaline-focused):

Watch something scary (scary game, thriller movie)
Watch someone get angry (Youtube react videos, gamer rage)
Watch an action movie
Watch a fails video compilation


Sensory grounding

Hold an ice cube or splash cold water on your face - take a cold shower if you’re really feeling it
Smell a strong scent, even an unpleasant one
Have a nice warm or cool drink
Any kind of strong pressure that won’t injure (weighted blanket, cuddle with your dog)
Listen to music or white noise
Use a heating pad or take a warm shower/bath


Creative outlets: (if you need the similarity, use red ink)

Draw on yourself or body paint
Do SFX makeup
Finger paint
Journal about your feelings honestly, even if they’re negative
Make a moodboard

new dealing with the past healing and caring comfortcore originally posted on tumblr tumblr

Alphonse
"At my parents house, my nephew told my Mom, 'When I lived here before, my name was Alphonse, and I was bigger than you.' My stepdad just kind of blinked and said, 'Hmm, that was my grandfather's name, but we don't talk about him.'" 

new alphonse reddit

A Curious Warning
•
March 6 2015
•
RusticEyesore


Last night, as I was sitting in my living room and watching a little TV before bed, I heard a strange noise. It was a slow, drawn out scraping across the hardwood floor. Confused, I searched for the source of the sound; and I found it immediately.

Someone had a slipped a small, folded note under the door.

"What the..?" More curious than anything, I approached the note slowly. I knelt down cautiously and picked up the strange paper. On it were only five words, scrawled on in a crude, messy fashion: "Get out. He is coming."

I didn't pause to consider the meaning of the note, however, as I immediately realized there was something very, very wrong with this situation:

The note had come from under the closet door.

new reddit note

C̹ͬ̂̒̽̉o͛ͥͤ͐͒ͮ͏̗̳͖͍m̷ͣ͊ͫe̥͙͍͑̇͑,̧̣̼͙̭ͩ ͈̬̫̜̞̝͑͌̑A̹ͨͮͨͬ̆̾è̘͚͕̱̯b̖͔̠̦̈o̗͎̱͕̰͔ͧ̿̉̑ͣ́̕ͅṅ͎̠͔̩̯͈ͩa͙̯͉͔͍̗ͬ̒͊͌̽̊̚ȁ͒ͦͨ͋̚͏̹͉͚s͆͊ͬh,͍̲̙͓͕̯̈́́͑͊ͬ́ ͗ͫ̎ͨ͋ͯ͆͘l͉̰̻͎͔͎ͅẹ͎̬̞̣͖͊̂͗͋ẗ͉͉̲̬̫̙̼̍ͯ̀ ̖̜͎̞̮̰̄̎̾̓͢u̯̯̠̬̐̌̍͢s҉̱̖̤̠ ̎̈́ͤ̊̌҉s̭̣̮̼̖̽ͭͤ͐ͯ͟é̥͖͓̄̔͆̎̀ͅe̺̫̗͕̩͋̊͗͢ ͖̐͛͋̓ͬ̅̇í̷̯̤̲̠͙̖̣̂̃̈̌͗ḟ̈ ͯ́y̷̭̬͖̠̪͓͖̎̔ͮǫ̙̟̦͍̀u̴̬͍̙̘͋̓̔͛̇͑ ̙̌̀̋́aͩ̿̂ṟͣͮe̖ͧ̈́͌̊̋ͧͧ̕ ̟̲̳͚̗̉ͩ͒ͬͪͬ͋a̗͇͓͖̟͉͗ͭ͐ͣ̏̐ͪs̘̞̐̇ ̫̯̠̈́̋͐̉ͦ͛͢p͍̤̬͉͍͖ȓ͙͎ͅë̠̩̮́̇ṱ̫͇̩͖̗̻ṭ̨͔ͩy̅̾̏͂ͭ͆ͩ ̺͕̈́̐ͫͧ̆ï̳͕̯̥̝̹̺͒n̢̤͚̲̩̑ͨ͆ṣ͖͕ͩ̔̋ͨ̉ͯ̐i̝̫d̖ͮ̃ͯ̈ė̶̻̲̤͇̼͖͋̑͆ͅ~̦̘̤̺̮̱̍̾ͥ̅̚~̡ͮ

new reddit gothic goth zalgo

r/shortscarystories
4 yr. ago
hyperobscura

𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽?
𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙰 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻, 𝙱𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚈𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶: ‘𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽?’

𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑, 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜?

𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚊 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢.

𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝?

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎?

𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎?

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛.

𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙰𝚗𝚍?

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?

𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

...𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙸...𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝.

𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾:

𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 - 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲, 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂.

𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎...𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗.

𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗.

𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾:

𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶

𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜; 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝.

𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗?

𝙴𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙽𝚘.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙰 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛.

𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾:

𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 - 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙿 𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠-𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜.

𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜.

𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽

𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗?

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙽𝚘...𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗?

𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝙽𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚘. 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗.

𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔.

𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎.

𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗?

𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝.

𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙼𝙰𝙽

𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚖 𝙸?

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳

“It’s me dad,” I say, tears streaming down my face.

They told me the disease would consume his mind, but I was never really prepared for it. I hug him tightly. A part of me knows that this is goodbye.

“Who is the man,” he just keeps muttering.

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Go to tinyhorribles
r/tinyhorribles
5 days ago
therealdocturner

Silence Is Violence

The alley is dark.

I see my breath in the frigid air. 

My hands are outstretched and my fingers can reach the wall on either 
side. 

It’s narrow. 

The walls are wet and slicked with some kind of slime. Children are 
screaming somewhere in the dark. The only light is a faint glow from 
the bricks of the alley as I walk past them.

The screams are behind me and they’re getting closer. Footsteps. Like 
a thousand people running behind me, getting closer and closer. 

My chest hurt̸ and I fałł over.

The alley is go̕ne.

Everything is light now. Too bright to see anything. I hear people 
yelling. I smell soap.

I fall back into the darkness of the alley. I run and I can feel my heart 
trying to beat its way out of my chest.

The screaming children behind me say my name. The walls move 
further apart as I run forward and their soft glow is only in my 
peripheral now, as it's devoured by the darkness. It’s getting colder. I 
run into the dark̵.

God, help me.

There are lights in front of me.

I move forward.

I recognize the main street of the town where I grew up. Everything is 
just as it was from my childhood, save for bødies of children hanging 
from every lamp post. They’ve been gutted.

Their insides pile up underneath the swaying corpses. Roman 
Numerals are carved into their foreheads.

My chest exploded in paın.

My hometown is go̶ne. 

Light and pain are all that remain. Frantic voices. My chest is on fire. 
My shirt is open.

I fall back onto Blackstone Avenue. The buildings are on fire. Children 
with accusatory eyes surround me on the street.

They’re pointing, at me. 

The Roman numerals are raised and bleeding. Ligature marks are on 
every neck, and all of them begin to walk toward me. Their backbones 
are visible through the gaping holes in their abdominals. My chest is in 
agøny. 

Just before they grab me, I’m back in that blinding light. Convulsıons 
and I feel my own spit running down my neck.

POP POP POP

Three hard knocks against my chest and my eyes begin to slightly 
focus. I’m in a hospıtals room. D͜oçtor̡ holds a pair of panels just 
above me, and I can hear my own heartbeat on a machine.

Two days later.

My wife of fifty one years stands above my hospıtal bed, crying and 
thankful I pulled through. 

She stays until I make her go home.

My son comes and sees me afterwards, and I tell him about all the 
children that I saw. 

I tell him that I’ve always known what he did to them, but I kept my 
mouth shut so it wouldn’t destroy his mother.

I tell him I can’t do it anymore. I rısk condemnation with my silence. 
He’s got to turn himself in. 

He tells me he loves me, as he pushes a pi]low over my fac͘e.

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r/shortscarystories
24 days ago
GuyAwks

Forget Me Anniversary Not

What kind of husband goes and forgets an anniversary?

And not just any anniversary. Our 10 year anniversary.

I didn’t want to have to remind Stephen about it. I wanted him to remember it on his own, to show me he cared about our partnership. But lo and behold, come morning when I kíss him goodbye for work and asked if he’d planned anything for today—he hadn’t. He just read his newspaper like it was any other day, with no hint of reaction.

Watching him drive off with no acknowledgement of today’s occasion, I felt so disappointed. I even pulled out my phone to call up our marriage counselor, Dr Faulkner, to talk through my feelings and book an appointment for us. But, just my luck, he wasn’t picking up.

So instead, I swallow my discontent and got our two kids ready for school. All throughout doing my daily household chores, I held out hope that Stephen might ring me to wish me, or have a bouquet delivered, or even pop home to whisk me off for a fancy lunch. Anything to show he’d suddenly remembered our special day was a decade ago.

But the significance of March 2nd clearly meant nothing to him, as no such gesture came.

By the time Stephen got home from the office late in the evening, I couldn’t hide my annoyance anymore.

Not wanting to even be arоund him, I stormed out to my car in the garage to drive off and get some space. That’s when I heard the muffled sound coming from the trunk. Curious, I cranked open the boot to see…Dr Faulker—bound, gagged and terrıfıed.

“Happy anniversary, honey” purred Stephen’s voıce from behind me.

I whirled around, my heart aflutter and a wıde, joyful smıle on my face. 

“Oh Stephen, you did remember! And with a personal touch, you shouldn’t have.”

Swooning, I ripped the gag off our helpless victim.

“Stephen, Janice…p-please let me go!” Dr Faulkner gasped in sweaty confusion. “What are you doing?!”

“He’s been in there since yesterday,” Stephen informed me. “I knew you’d find your anniversary gift eventually.”

“Anniversary?!” yelped Dr Faulkner. “I-isn’t your wedding anniversary in November!?”

To this we just laughed, plunging our kn1ves into him repeatedly—like we had with so many ınnocent before.

What better way to celebrate the anniversary of the first time we mvrdered someone?

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r/shortscarystories
4 days ago
TheMysticPrincess

I should've listened to the person at the funeral....

My grandma loved crafts; knitting, stitching, sewing, embroidery, if it involved yarn or thread, it was something she loved, and I loved watching it. Whenever I went to her house, I'd spend hours watching her craft while she told me stories. One of her favorite things to craft were dolls, specifically felt dolls with button eyes. They were all different in sizes, shapes, colors, clothing, but the one thing they had in common was that they always had an image embroidered in them over the heart; the images varied from cars to bottles to apples and many of them she made of people she knew. They were also her favorite things to give to people.

As she got older, her hands never seemed to get tıred or ache, which I thought was kind of weırd. She told me it was because of all her crafting that her hands were so strong. I was just a kid, so I believed her. I mean there wasn't any other explanation, right? I also began to notice whenever grandma gave someone a doll, they'd have this look of....panic in their eyes. I never asked why. I didn't think it was any of my business.

The inevitable day came and we had to bury her. There weren't a lot of people at the funerαl, which was odd; grandma knew and befriended a lot of people during her life, surely they wouldn't miss this for the world. I decided to talk to one of the few who did show up; I mentioned it and they replied

"....I'm guessing no one ever told you."

They explained that each time she'd sew a lookalike and give it to someone, they'd die the next day. A gîrl who had tried to seduce grandpa got one with the patch of a car; she ended up getting into a car crash and didn't make it. Someone who had called her a pig and tried to stuff an apple in her mouth got one with an apple; a piece of one got lodged in their trachea and they couldn't get it out in time. Her best friend who was moving away got a glass of filtered water; the autopsy showed cyanide in her b!ood. They told me more of these, but I brushed them off as coincidences; there's no way a doll could ķíľľ people. Even if it was true, it'd be over nơw.

Years later my mother diεd in her sleep, leaving me alonȩ with the house. After the funerαl, I was cleaning up her things when I found something in the bed that made my b!ood run cøld; a lookalike doll with 3 Zs as a patch over the heart. 

Which leads me to now; yesterday I found a doll outside my door and it looks like me. Over the heart is a patch of a kn*fe. I mean, it's weird, but I don't think it's anything to woŗry̕

....Why did I just hear the front door open?

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r/shortscarystories

1 mo. ago

Haunting-Buyer8532

All of our children keep dy1ng.

This all started when our first child, Amy, was born.

She would alwaყs wind up in these horrible accidents. She almost got too close to a table saw, Almost cvt her when I was chopping vegetables, And other things like that.

She d1ed when she was barely a year old. Ended up bre4king her neck after fąlling on her fac͘e in the crib. 

Years after her d3ath, we started over with Elise, our second child. She barely made it to six months before she d1ed.

Apparently, she somehow managed to get on the roof of the h̴ouse. Have you ever seen how a baby ruptures when it falls from two stories?

I tried convincing my wife over and over again not to try again. She still got us a new baby, she just adopted it instead of the “natural way”.

I barely come near my own child. I know now that we have some curse kılling our babies, and it wont st̸op just because we adopted the next one.

My wife is so worried about our new baby girl, I don't want to tell her…

I don't want to tell her the times she goes glassy-eyed.

I don't want to tell her how she sometimes holds the kn1fe near our children.

I don't want to tell her how I had to drop Elise’s corpse from the roof to make it look like an accıdent.

Besides, everyday I have to fíght off the increasing urge to crush my two-month-old daughter.

Just like I did with Amy and Elise.

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r/TwoSentenceHorror
6 days ago
Old_Lady_In_Titanic


Everyone else was distracted by the huge iceberg that glided within inches of the ship.
Only I saw the giant metallic sea-bear gash a hole in the hull beneath the waterline with it's razor sharp knife-like claws.

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r/TwoSentenceHorror
1 hr. ago
jesth857


I Watched As My Son Slowly 
Turned Blue After Tasting My 
Food From DoorDash

Will they ever stop trying to poison me?

new doordash twistedcore poisoncore reddit

ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴᴰᴬʸ ᶜᴬᴺᴰᴸᴱᔆ ᵇʸ ʳᵉᵈᵈⁱᵗ ᵘˢᵉʳ ᶻᵉⁿʳʸʰᵃᵒ 
ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱᶠᵗᵉᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ 
ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍˡᵃⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵗᵒ 
ᵇᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘⁿᵇᵉᵃʳᵃᵇˡʸ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ‧ 
ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʳᵉᵈ ˢᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿʸⁱᵉˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ 
ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᶠᵉᵉᵇˡᵉ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ 
ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ 
ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ⸴" ˢʰᵉ ᵇˡᵉʷ ᵃ ᵍᵘˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵈⁱˢˢⁱᵖᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᶠᶠˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ‧ ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ 
ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʸᵉᵃʳ; ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ 
ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ 
ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵘᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐᵉʳᵉˡʸ ᵈʳⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ 
ʰᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ‧

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Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ
“Is ᴛʜɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, Jᴀɴᴇᴛ? Yᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ 
ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏɴ Eᴅᴅʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ!”
Mʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴍs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴɪsʜɪɴɢ 
ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʙᴡᴇʙs ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴ’s ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ. Aʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ 
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪs ᴀ sᴇᴀ ᴏғ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ Hᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴄᴀʀ 
ʙᴏᴏᴛs, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀs ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀs ʜᴇʀs.
“Yᴇs” I ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ, ᴀᴅᴊᴜsᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʀ 
ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ. “Mʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ.”

“Oʜ ɪᴛ’s sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴɪᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ. 
Iɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪᴅs ᴅᴏᴏʀ-ᴛᴏ-ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ, 
ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀs ɪɴ ᴀ ʟᴏᴄᴀʟ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ 
ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋs. Lɪғᴇ’s ᴀʟʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛɪɴɢ.”
Eᴅᴅʏ ʙᴏʙs ɪɴ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏsᴛᴜᴍᴇ. Eᴀɢᴇʀ, ʜᴇ 
sᴇᴛs ᴏғғ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴏᴏᴋɪʟʏ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴs 
ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪᴅs ʟɪɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ.

“Tʜɪs ᴅᴏᴇs sᴇᴇᴍ ғᴜɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs, Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ” I ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ  
ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ sʜᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇs. “Bᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ sᴀғᴇ 
ɪs ᴛʜɪs? Wɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀs’ ᴄᴀʀs…”
“Hᴏɴᴇʏ, ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ᴍᴜᴄʜ sᴀғᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ-
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ!” sʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀssᴜʀᴇs ᴍᴇ. 
Sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, I ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛ sʟᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ sʜᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ 
ᴀɴ ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇ ʀᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ. Tʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ SUV ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ 
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʏ. 
Eᴅᴅʏ ɪs ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴇᴇɴ.

“Hᴇʏ!” I sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ. 
Eᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ sᴘɪɴs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ I’ᴍ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 
SUV ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡs ᴇʀʀᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ. Wɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴄʀᴇᴇᴄʜ 
ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇs ᴛᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴜs.
Aᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ʙᴇɢɪɴ sʜᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ 
ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴠᴀɴ ᴀs ɪᴛ ғʟᴇᴇs, ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ 
ғʀᴀɴᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ sᴀғᴇ.
“Is ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ?!”

Aᴍɪᴅsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀᴏs, I ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ Eᴅᴅʏ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. 
I ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ʀᴇʟɪᴇғ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ʜᴜɢ.

“Aʟʟ ᴅᴏɴᴇ—ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ” ʜᴇ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜʟʏ. 
I sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴀ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ sᴍɪʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.
Tʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴠᴀɴ, ᴅʀɪᴠᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ, ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ.

Iᴛ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍʏ sᴏɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀs 
ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʀᴀᴋᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs. Tᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ 
ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇss ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇs ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs 
sᴍᴀsʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴇᴇs ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴅɪɢɢɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛs.

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I ✊ just 😖 put 😶 my ✊ newborn 👶 son 👦 into 👇 a 😹 blender 👋👋

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The End
From Redditor u/MrCookieCutter:

For the first time in recorded history, no humans died today.

Granted, that's because the last one died yesterday.

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r/TwoSentenceHorror
5 yr. ago
LifeIsContrast

I ̼ͨͪj̱͉umpé̞d̊̐ fro̞̜m̲̐ the ed̰ͫ̀ġͪe̩͐ and̝͍ͭ ͉̾̈́pl͖͓̂u͇ͩ̋n̏̔g̯ed͓͎ͦ͂ t̹̅̀o̹͇w̆ards thͤe d͎͛ͤe̬̰p͔̂t̻h̟̓ͫs̘̩͊̑.͓̰.̰ͭ͐.̑.̭

p͔̻̥̮̒͒l̗͙̦̩̪̪͙̯͐̂̚ĕ̻̝̳̣͈͖̞̎̿̊͊͋̈́͒̑a͚̣̹ͮ̌͆̇̾s̠̘̰͙̰̐͑̋e͇̰̳͓̥̊̂͌͐̍͑̂,͚̘̜̉ͯ̒ͤͬ ̖̭̲̟̥͍̹͎ͧ͒ͯ͒ͨ͗̉F̭͎̌̇͑ͣḬ̑̃ͥͥͧN̗̰̎̓͗D͓̠͎̂̿ͨ́̉͐ ̘̤̤̠̘̺̼͖̩̓̆͒̔ͭ̆ͯ̚M̲̫̙͙̏ͦ̀̑E̺̗͈̣̹ͯ́̚ ̬̤͎̪͔̤̤̯ͧ͌ͭ̌̿ͩA͎̗͉͕̯̲̤͓͒̌ͪN̫̥͎ͯ̈̎͌͊͒D̠̬̮͆ ̬͇̫̠ͩ͒K̞͕̙̮̫͇͎͉ͤ̈́̿͒ͧ̽̐ͤͅI͉̒͗ͥL͍̤͚͖͚̆ͯ̎̽̑L͓̣͎̗̾ͯ̈́̚ ̣͎̱̪̝͉̈́ͣ̂̓̆̂̋ͤͫM̙̙̼ͩ͗͋ͣͫE̮̔̌͑̊!̳̖͉̺̾ͅͅ

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ᵀᵒ ᴴᵉᵃˡˢ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇꜱ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃᵖ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ 
ʰᵒˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ
ʰᵃˡᶠ⸴ ᵃˢᵏᵉʷ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵛⁱᶜᵉ
ᵒᶠ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ 
ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ˡᵒᶜᵃˡ
ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ 
ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ 
ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ‧ 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ 
ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ
ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧
ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ
ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˢ
ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡⁱⁿᵍᵉʳ
ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ ᵘᵖ
ᵒⁿ ʳᵒᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ
ᶜʰᵃᵐᵖ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ
ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧
ᴺᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ
ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰʸ‧‧
"ᵂʰ⁻ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ⸴ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉ— ʰᵃᵖ⁻ᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ
ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘᵇ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᶜʰⁱᵉ 
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵉᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ
ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ ᵇᵃᵇʸ
ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ 'ᵒᵘᶜʰⁱᵉ' ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ
ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ/ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ
ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ 
ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ
ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ
ˢᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ
ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿⁱˢᵉ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃʳᵐˡᵉˢˢ; ᵃⁿᵈ
ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧
ᴵᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ 'ᵒᵘᶜʰⁱᵉ' ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ
ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ‧
"ᔆᵒ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵃⁿˢᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒˣⁱᵐⁱᵗʸ ᵗʰᵃⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ
ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ
ˢᵒ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵈ!"
"ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ?" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᴵ
ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈ⁻ᵈⁱᵈ 
ʲ⁻ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ
ᵉᵃˢʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗ⁻ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵇʸ
ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ?" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖʳᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ
ᵍᵉˢᵗᵘʳᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ʰᵘᵍˢ‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧
"ᴴᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧
ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧"
"ᴵ ᵈ⁻ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ⸴ ᵇ⁻ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ʷ⁻ʷ⁻ʷʰʸ?"
"ᵂᵉˡˡ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᶜᵒᵒˡ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿᵍ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵃᵇˢ
ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒʷˢⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵈᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ‧‧‧
'ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᵇʳᵘᵖᵗˡʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ
ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ‧‧' ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ⸴ ⁿᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃʷⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵖ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶠʳʸ
ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧
"ᔆᴾᴼᴺᴳᴱᴮᴼᴮ ᔆᑫᵁᴬᴿᴱᴾᴬᴺᵀᔆ ᵂᴴ‧‧‧"
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᵇʳᵘᵖᵗ
ᵉⁿᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ʲᵒˡᵗ‧
"ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‽" ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱˡˡ‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃ⁻ᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷ⁻ʷᵉˡˡ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ
ⁿᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵖ⁻ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧"
"ᔆ⁻ᔆᵀᴼᴾ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ᴵ⸴ ʷᵉˡˡ ʰᵉ'ˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ
ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ‧ ᵂᵃⁱᵗ ʰᵒʷ'ᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ? ᴼʰ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ⸴ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ; ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿ⁻ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ
ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧" "ᴵ⸴ ʰ⁻ʰᵘʰ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ
ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ
ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ
ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧
"ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ! ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ
ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ
ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ‧
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈ⁻ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵍᵒ!" ᴴᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵐⁱˢˢ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ!" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧‧"
"ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ
ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵐʸ
ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴼʰ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍ⁻ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢᵃʸˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇˡᵉʷ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ
ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵃⁿʸ ˡⁱⁿᵍᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ
ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧
"ᔆᵖᵒᵗ?" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵃᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ
ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧
'ᴴᵒᵖᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢ ᵐʸ
ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ 'ᴺᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵒʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡ
ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉˢ‧
ᴷⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠˡᵘˢᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ/ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴⁱ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃʳ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧"
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳᵛⁱˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ
ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ⁿᵒʳ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˢ
ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵘᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ
ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ
ˡⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ
ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ
ᵏʳᵃᵇ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ 
ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ
ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ
ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ‽ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʲᵉᵒᵖᵃʳᵈⁱˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʲᵒᵇ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ
ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧
"ᴸⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵏⁱᵈ ᴵ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ
ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ
ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ
ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿ⁻ⁿᵗ
ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ 
ᵘⁿᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ
ᵃ ᵗᵒˡˡ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʷᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳ⁻ⁱᵉ⁻ᶠ⁻ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᵀᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᶠ⁻ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ
ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧"

new over 1000 words wordcount: 1.000-3.000 wordcount: 1.000-5.000 unreliable memory plankarenbob to heals

Grandfather Tim
By Reddit user Human_Gravy 
Grandpa Tim was a bit of a recluse, as my family liked to say. He lived out in the middle of nowhere in an old, dilapidated house. But when he came around, everyone
listened. No one argues or disobeys his commands, as strange as they were. For example, the time Tim convinced my Aunt Betty to purchase a life insurance policy on my Uncle Bill. Betty argued but gave in to Grandpa who insisted on paying for the
policy. Two years later, Uncle Bill passed away from a sudden heart attack.
Aunt Betty received a huge payout that helped Uncle Bill's wife with the funeral costs. Sometimes his advice would be to get checked at the doctor, even if you weren't sick, and they would find a life threatening tumor inside you. Other times, it would be to stay home from work on a certain day and then you'd see a twenty car pile up on the
highway in the news. Grandpa Tim always knew exactly when to call. When Tim died, I inherited all his possessions including his house. The lawyer
instructed me to check his mailbox for a letter Tim left me. I found myself opening a door in the basement and then almost fainting when I saw the endless cavern of hourglasses as far as the eye could see. The closest hourglasses to the door had the names of my family members etched on their bases. That's when I saw the sand in my parent's hourglasses about to run out. I called them and told to not get on the plane heading to Tim's funeral. The sand in their hourglasses
refilled.

new father figures Parents & Children Wakes & Funerals grandfather tim

Go to shortscarystories
r/shortscarystories
8 yr. ago
EvantheNerd83

A Perfect Baby

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆

A Perfect Baby

When she was born, Little Jamie got all the attention. Her mother 

cradled her in her arms and the doctors and nurses who were present 

crowded around them. They peered over the shoulders of their 

coworkers. They wanted to see the most perfect baby in the world.

And Little Jamie was perfect. She had bright blue eyes that shone like 

sapphires, such a deep shade that it reflected the sky. A pink and soft 

body.

She glowed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room, an angel 

delivered in mortal form. Everyone stared and cooed and stroked her 

puffy cheeks, took out their cameras and took pictures when they 

could, complimented her mother for conceiving such a lovely child. 

Her mother blushed in embarrassment and scratched her black hair. It 

was a joyful reception until the armed men in the uniforms stepped in

to the room.

Laughter died. Awkward coughing ensued. It was time to follow the 

rules. The symbol pinned to their chests declared as much.

Little Jamie was handed over to them, their stoic expressions 

remaining untainted as they walked out. Her mother watched and 

begged and screamed. But, the nurses held her back. Urged her to be 

quiet. For her own sake.

Little Jamie's newborn wailing cut-off down the hallway. The elevator 

door had closed. Now, she was downstairs with the others.

Little Jamie was perfect, but mortal perfection wasn't acceptable.

She had to be Aryan.

new twistedcore perfectcore reddit

r/shortscarystories
3 yr. ago
deontistic

Unnatural Birth

ᵀᵂ ᶜᵘᵗˢ

There was no other way, and there was no one else. The grotesque swell to the belly, the unnatural writhing, my indescribable pain—I was panicked, but I knew it was up to me. I had to do it. No one else seemed to have the spine to offer anything more than assistance.

Clinically . . . I had to think clinically. And I had to move fast, had to take the kn*fe and cut—yet I had to be careful not to cut too deep. To cut too deep would mean certain disaster, wouldn’t it. I had to šhut everything down; I had to šhut off the lights in all my rooms except the one where I would cut. I had to ignore my paın . . . exit the moment . . . had to proceed.

I took the kn*fe and placed its blxde on the belly, then I pressed and dragged—not too hãrd, but firm. The layers cut more easily than I’d imagined, and my incision was true. Still, no time to waste . . . had to keep moving. I pulled back the layers and reached deep into the belly. He was right there, my chıld, my soñ . . . I held him in my hands inside the belly, then I pulled him through the viscera, the muscle, the skın.

I held him in my arms, covered in blood as he was, eyès half øpened staring at nothing. Of course he was đeađ, just as they’d said he’d be. I held him . . . and I wailed . . . and wailed . . .

I hated . . . I hated my husband for making us come to the Amazon with him, hated myself for not refusing to come. I hated that I’d look͘ed̛ away, even though it’d only been for the slightest of moments. And though the beast hadn’t acted out of malevolence as my heart told me it surely must’ve, but only out of its instinct to survive . . . I hated the anaconda, too. My boy, my little James . . . he was just two . . .

new familycore surgerycore reddit

r/shortscarystories
5 yr. ago
[deleted]

«ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵉᵗᵘˢ

The Quickening

We had always wanted kids. Negative pregnancy test after negative 
pregnancy test. I was beginning to wonder if we had waited too long. 
But then the stories started.

Rumours at first. Classic internet forum gossip. Taking about 
declining birth-rates and increased birth defects. We assumed it was 
scaremongering, climate change activists trying to blame “chemicals” 
in the water or something.

But the rumours didn’t stop. Pictures began emerging online of babies,
being born around the world. They were all so similar and they made my 
blood run cold. They didn’t look like babies at all.

Suddenly no one was picketing abortion clinics anymore.

The authorities started to panic. They didn’t want the birthrate to drop
to zero. All non-emergency scans were banned. All the babies being born 
are malformed, and normal/viable babies are exceedingly rare,
very rare/non-existent. 

By the time I realised I was pregnant it was too late to do anything.
There was rioting on the streets. We hadn’t left the house in days. The
city was on fire. We bunkered down.

I dreamed of a parasite growing inside of me, unable to see, unable to 
scream.. I reached up inside myself with household supplies. 
I couldn’t let the thing feed on me anymore. It felt like a bolt of
lightning deep inside me. It took a long time. Blood dripped
down my legs. I felt dizzy. But it would be worth it. I didn’t want it
inside me anymore.

The pain ripped through me and I felt like I was being torn apart but
then suddenly in a gush of blood she was here. I was covered in
sweat. I gasped for air and looked down at her.

She was so tiny.

She fit into the palm of my hand.

She was still.

And, she was  perfect.

new reddit fic birthcore childbirthcore reddit

https://www.reddit.com/r/BabyNameLab/comments/vvdp14/my_partner_is_pregnant_on_our_first_child_and_we/

new reddit given name namesake name name nameword forename

ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ (𝟾𝟸ғ) ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪsʜᴇs (𝟷𝟼) ʙᴜᴛ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ғᴏʀᴛɴɪᴛᴇ (𝟹 ᴋɪʟʟs) sᴏ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ɢʀᴀʙʙᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟʟᴇʀ (ᴅᴜᴀʟsʜᴏᴄᴋ 𝟺) ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜʀᴇᴡ ɪᴛ ᴀᴛ ʜᴇʀ (𝟷𝟹𝟾ᴋᴘʜ). sʜᴇ ʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴅɪᴇᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀɪsᴏɴ (𝟷𝟾 ʏᴇᴀʀs). ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴘʀɪsᴏɴ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ɪɴᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ sᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ʀɪᴏᴛs (𝟹) ᴀɴᴅ ᴀssᴜᴍᴇᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀsʜɪᴘ ᴏғ ᴀ ɢᴀɴɢ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴍᴜɢɢʟɪɴɢ ᴅʀᴜɢs (ᴄᴏᴄᴀɪɴᴇ) ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ. ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴀʟsᴏ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀssᴀssɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀɪᴛɪᴇs (ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ, ᴇʟᴠɪs ᴘʀᴇsʟᴇʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴇғғʀᴇʏ ᴇᴘsᴛᴇɪɴ) ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛᴇʀʀᴏʀɪsᴛ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ (𝟿/𝟷𝟷). ʀᴇᴅᴅɪᴛ, ᴀɪᴛᴀ?

new copypasta reddit aita

ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ᵂᵉ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ᵂⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Part 1
"ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵘʳᵉ? ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ'ˢ ᴾᵃᵗ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ
ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ
ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃᵗ ˢʰᵒᵗ
ᵍᵘⁿ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ
ˢᵉᵃᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ
ʳᵃᵈⁱᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?" "ᴹᵉ ᶜᵃʳ⸴ ᵐᵉ ʳᵃᵈⁱᵒ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵐ
ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘˢ!" "ᔆᵒ ᵃᵐ ᴵ‧"
ᵂʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ
ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢⁱᵍʰˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘⁿⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ
ᵍᵉᵗˢ ˡᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ
ʳⁱᵈᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵃ ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵃ ᵗᵒ
ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒᵍʳᵃᵖʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᔆᵉⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢᵏˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷʰᵒ
ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᶜᵒᵖⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴹʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵃ'ˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ
ᶜᵒⁿⁿᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ
ᵈⁱᵍⁱᵗᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃᵘᵗᵒᵐᵃᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃᵛᵉ!"
ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ
ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱˢ
ʷʳⁱˢᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ
ᵉⁿᵍʳᵒˢˢᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧
"ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ʸᵉᵗ?" "ᴺᵒ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧"
"ᴬʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᵂʰᵉⁿ’ᵈ ʰᵉ
ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ?" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ
ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴴᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ?"
"ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵃˡᶠ
ʷᵃʸ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵒʸ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉˢ‧
"ᴵ ᵖᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵏᵉˡᵖ ᶠʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ?" "ᵂʰʸ ᵒᶠ
ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ!" ᴴᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ‧
"ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ
ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ 
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗᵘ ⁿᵃᵖ⸴ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ
ᵒᶠ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᴿᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ
ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵉˡᶠ
ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏᵉˡᵖ ᶠʳʸ?"
ᴴᵉ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳ ᵇʸ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ‧
ᴬʳʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵗʳᵉᵗᶜʰ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍˢ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃʸˢ‧
"ᵀʰᵉʸ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᶠʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ'ˢ‽" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ʸᵉˡˡˢ⸴ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ
ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ
ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗᵗᵃᵍᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ⁿᵃᵛʸ ᵇᵘᵈᵈⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ
ᵍᵃᵐᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉⁿ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧
"ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶠᵘⁿ
ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵉᵗ
ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵃᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ!"
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰ
ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ˢⁱᵍʰˢ⸴ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ
ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ
ʳᵘᵐᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵇˡᵘᵉ
ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧"
"ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ!" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ
ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗⁱˡᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧"
"ᶜʰⁱˡᵈⁱˢʰ! ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈⁱˢʰ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ‧‧‧"
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ! ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡˢ ᵒᶠᶠ
ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ‧
ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧
'‧‧‧ ᔆᵏⁱᵖ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉˢ
ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ 
ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᔆᵒ 
ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!"
ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ʲᵉʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ
ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵘⁿʰ‽"
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ
ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵛᵃᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ
ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵈᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ "ᴹᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ!"
ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉˡᶠⁱᵉ‧ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜᵃᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵍᵃᵐᵉˢ‧
ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ ᵒᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉˢ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵈⁱᵍⁱᵗᵃˡ ᶜᵒᵖʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ
ᵒᶠ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵖʳⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ
ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ
ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᶜᵘᵗᵉ!"
ᴺᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴳᵒᵒᶠʸ ᴳᵒᵒᵇᵉʳˢ 
ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ
ᵇᵉʳʳʸ ˢᵘⁿʳⁱˢᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃᵗᵉ
ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ˡˡ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵃ ᵏᵉˡᵖ
ˢʰᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ‧" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉᵈ‧
ᴮᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁱᵐᵖᵃᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃˡˡ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘᵍᵃʳ‧ "ᴴⁱ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ!" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ
ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᴾˡᴬⁿᵏᵀᵒᴺ!" ᴴᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰˢ‧
"ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗᵗᵃᵍᵉ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʸˢ
ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵒᵖᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ʷᵉ
ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧"
"ᴹᵒᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉˢ
ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ
ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉˡᶠⁱᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵉˣⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᶠʸ
ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ᵈⁱᵍⁱᵗᵃˡ
ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗᵗᵃᵍᵉ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ
ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵖᵖˡᵉˢ‧ "ᴱᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉ!"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵛᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧
"ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᶠˡʸ?" "ᴺᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᶠʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ'ˢ?" ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢˡᵘʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ "ᴹᵒᵒ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" cont. Pt. 2

new split into parts road trip au Travel & Vacation Eugene Krabs/Squidward Tentacles sleeping sitting up talking in sleep looks like we have a winner

ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ᵂᵉ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ᵂⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Part 2
"ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖˡᵒᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴬᵐ ᴵ
ʳᵘⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ?" "ᴺᵒ ᵒᶠ
ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷʰʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵗʳⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ
ᵇᵉʳʳʸ ˢᵘⁿʳⁱˢᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ!" "ᵀʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ
ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ˢᵘⁿᵈᵃᵉ⸴ ʸᵘᵐᵐʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐʸ ᵗᵘᵐᵐʸ!"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵃᵖˢ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ
ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᶠʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ
ᵇʸᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ
ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧
"ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮ⁻⁻ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵐ⁻ᵐʸ ᶠʷⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒʳⁿᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ
ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ‧
"ᴹʸ ᵇ⁻ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʷⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʷᵒᵒˡʸ
ʷⁱᵛᵛ ᵐᵐʰ⸴ ᵗʷᵒᵒˡʸ ʷᵘᵛ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵍᵘʸˢ‧" ᵀʰᵉʸ
ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵘⁱᵈᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ
ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵃᵍˢ ᵃˢ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧"
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ ˢᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ
ᵈⁱᵍⁱᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵃᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ‧
ᴺᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧
ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ
ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ˡⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧
ᴴᵉ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉˣᶜᵉˢˢ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧
"ᴼʰ ʰᵉʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧
"ᵂʰᵘʰ? ᴼʰ; ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵃʸ⸴ ᵈⁱᵈ
ʷᵉ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᶠʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ'ˢ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ?"
"ᵂʰʸ?" "ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᴵ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒ ʷᵉ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵘⁿᵈᵃᵉˢ‧ ᴬˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ
ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ‧ ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ?"
"ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵍᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶜʳᵃᶻʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱᶜᵉ
ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᵍᵃʳ‧ ᵀʳⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ
ᵇᵉʳʳʸ ˢᵘⁿʳⁱˢᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ
ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵏᵉˡᵖ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉˢ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ‧"
"ᴵ ᵈᵒᵘᵇᵗ ᴵ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᶜʳᵃᶻʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ!"
'ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵘⁿᶠⁱˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ'
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧
"ᵂʰᵃᵗ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ‧
"ᵂᵉˡˡ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵃʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ
ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ˢᵒ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ
ʳⁱˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʰᵘᵐⁱˡⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ
ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵒᶠ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ! "ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗˢ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵇᵘᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ "ᴼʰ; ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ‧
"ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵃ ᶜᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ?" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ!"
ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ
ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ!"
"ᴴⁱ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ! ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᶜᵃʳᵈˢ?"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ’ᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ?"
"ᴬᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴⁱ ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖʸ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴺᵒʷ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ‽"
"ᴼʰ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵘˢ
ʷᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒʷ
ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ
ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ 'ᵉᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧"
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵉⁿʸ ⁱᵗ! ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜˢ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ
ʷᵉʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢⁱⁿᵍ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵃᵍⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧
"ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢᵏ ᵐᵉ ᶠʳʸ
ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵇᵒᵗʰ 'ʷᵒᵛᵉ' ᵉᵃᶜʰ
ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ
ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ
ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ
ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵉˢᶜᵃˡᵃᵗᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧
"ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ!"
"ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁱⁿ 'ʷᵒᵛᵉ' ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᶜᵉ
ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ˢᵘⁿᵈᵃᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁿᵒʷ
ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ
ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʳⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ
ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧
"ᴼʰ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᴾˡᴬⁿᵏᵀᵒᴺ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ
ʷᵒᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ᶠʷⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ʷᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ! ᴹᵒᵒ! ᴹᵒᵒ!"
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵐᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗˢ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ
ˡᵃᵘᵍʰˢ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ‧ 'ᴺᵒ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ!' 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ
ˢᵉᵉˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᵛᵉʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ
ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʳᵘᵉ‧
'ᴼʰ ⁿᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱˡˡ
ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗᵉˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵘʳʸ
ᵒⁿ ᵘˢ‧‧' ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒʷ
ᵖᵉᵉᵏˢ ᵃᵗ 'ᵉᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ
ʰⁱˢ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵛᵃᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ 
ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢⁱⁿᵍˡᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧
ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢˡᵃᵐˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧
ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃᵘᵗⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ⁱⁿ
ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʳᵃᵐᵖᵃᵍᵉ
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ
ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉᵉˡˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᶠᵃᶜⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ
ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ cont. Pt. 3

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ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏ
⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᶤʳᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ʷʰᵒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇˑ "ᴴᵉʸ
ᵖᵘᶰᵏᵎ" ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ˢᵃʸˢˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒʷᶰ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ
ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ˒ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ ᴴᵉ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶤᶰ
ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʰᵉ
ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃᶰᵗˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʷᶤᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ˒ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈ˒ ᶤᶰ ᵖᵃᶤᶰˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉᶰᶜʸ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜˑ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ʰᵉˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᶤᶰᵍ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳˑ ᴴᶤˢ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰᶤᵐ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷʰᶤˡˢᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᵃˢ ᵒᶠ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷˑ"
ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜᶤᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈˑ ᴱᵛᵉᶰᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈˑ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ
ᵃ ˢᵏᶤᶰᶰʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ᵗᵘᵇᵉ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ˒ ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶰᵒʷ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᵘᵗˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠᶤᶰᶤˢʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ˒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
"ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉˡʸ ᵇᵉ ᵗᶤʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ
ˢᵒʳᵉᶰᵉˢˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉˑ ᴬˡˡ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡ˒ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ
ᵈᶤˢᵒʳᶤᵉᶰᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵒ ᶰᵒ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ
ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒᶰ'ˢ ᴵ ᵐᵉᶰᵗᶤᵒᶰᵉᵈˑ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵃʳᵐᵉᵈ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵗˢ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰˑ"
"ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏˢ˒ ᵈᵒᶜˑˑˑ" ˢᵃʸˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˑ
"ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ˒ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ
ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ˢᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖˑ "ᴼʰ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ; ᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ 
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᶻᶻᶤˡʸ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʷᶤᵗʰ
ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍˢˀ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ᶤᶰˢᵗᵉᵃᵈˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᶤᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖˑ
"ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵒˢᵖᶤᵗᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈˑ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰˑ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ
ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵐᶤᶰᵈˢˑˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈˑ
"ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶰᵃᵖˑˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈˑ "ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸˀ"
"ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ⁻ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈˑ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ
ˢʰᶤᶠᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢˑ
"ᴺᵒʷ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᶤᶰ ᵇᵉᵈ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵉʳᶤᵒᵈᶤᶜᵃˡˡʸˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢˑ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʳʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ˒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ
"ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰˑ
"ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ; ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈˑˑ" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵉᵃʳʸˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
"ᴵ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉᶰ ᵃʷᵃʸᵎ"
"ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡˀ" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃᶜʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ
ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᶜˡᵉᵃᶰˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ˡᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˑ
"ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍᶤˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ˒ ʷᵉˡˡ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵏᶤᵈˑ" "ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ
ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈˑ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ
ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸˑ" ᴴᵉ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᶤˡˡᵒʷˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃᵈʲᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵇˡᵃᶰᵏᵉᵗ
ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸˑ "ᴰᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵏᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᶤˢ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ
ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ʰᶤᵐ ᵈᵒʷᶰˑ "ᑦʰᶤˡˡᵃˣˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶰᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗˑ
ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ˒ ˡᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ
ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗˢˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʷᵒʳᶰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ
ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜ˒ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒʷ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ
ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᶤᵈʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒʷ
ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶰ ᵒᵘᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ᵐᵘˢᵗᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ
ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴮʸᵉᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ˒ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᶠˑ
ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᶰᵒʷ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ
ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᶤᶰᵉˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍˑ
ˢʰᵉ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵗᵃᵖ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸ ᵒᶰ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶤᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡˑ

new wordcount: 500-1.000 healing and caring SpongeBob SquarePants References Karen (SpongeBob) Background & Cameo Characters Karen & SpongeBob SquarePants squeak squeak

Poor X. 

The lawyer has seemingly been struggling with some kind of chest infection for a while now- it seems like whenever Y passes his office, she can hear him clearing his throat, muffled coughing drifting through the walls as he tries to catch his breath.
“I’ll b-be- *wheeze*- f-fine. Just… just need to c-catch my- my breath.”

Wiping his mouth, he soon leans back against the bricks. His shallow exhales become steam in the cold air. 

“I think you might need some stronger cough medicine.” Y murmurs, still rubbing slow circles against his back. “If you want, I could get you some?”

His gaze crawls over to hers, dull hope flickering within them. “Y-yeah?”
His eyes roll, exhaustion taking over, but a quick tap to the cheek brings him right back, blinking languidly. 

“M'okay.” He mumbles. “Th-thanks.”

Y's hand, still lingering on his cheek, moves to swipe away a sweat-dampened curl from his forehead. “I’m not sure whether ‘okay’ is quite the right word to describe you right now, X… Take a few minutes down here, and then I'll walk you back up to your office, alright? I’m going to tell your assistant- Z, isn't it?- to make sure you get some rest while I fetch you some meds.”

X swallows, shaking his head weakly. “I’ll be… I’ll be f- fine.”

“I’m the doctor here. Just try to relax for once in your life.”

Finally, he sighs, nodding. He's still leaning his head against the brick wall as his eyes fall closed. 

Y continues to rub his back for a few minutes, a comfortable silence enveloping them. When she looks back at the lawyer beside her, his jaw is slack, lips slightly parted. The quick, shallow breaths of before have slowed and deepened. 
A small smile creeps onto her face. He's asleep. 
X starts to lean unconsciously towards her. Soon, as he remains asleep and snoring, his head lands on her shoulder.
He's definitely going to drool all over her dress. 
“Bless him .” Z whispers, cocking his head a little as he watches X sleep. “He's absolutely knackered.”

Y isn't entirely sure what that word means, but if it has anything to do with exhaustion, he's completely right. X is curled up on the couch, cheek pressed against a throw pillow Z thrifted, buried beneath a mound of blankets Y brought from home. They're ever so slightly weighted, and the pressure is comforting for X. She's trying to get used to his sensory needs. To not rely on him resolving them himself, especially when he's sick. Judging by the peaceful look on his face, nostrils flaring gently with each slow breath, she's doing something right at least. 

She hopes, also, that bringing him into her workplace was the right thing to do as well, groaned when she half-dragged X through the doors, pale and shakily covering his ears, squinting against the light, but what was she supposed to do? Suppose X had been left alone, and needed to get something to drink? Doing those things alone right now is essentially impossible for him. 
Y's phone beeps, and she turns it on to find a reminder:

X’s antibiotics. 

She sighs, glancing over at cosy-looking just as his nose twitches in his sleep. 

Z notes frustration. “Antibiotic time?”  

“Yep.”

With another small sigh of sympathy, she stands and wanders over to the feverish bundle of blankets and gentle snores, placing a gentle hand on the top of his head. Her thumb brushes against the sweat-damp curls that hang over his eyes. 

“ X? Sweetheart? Wake up for me, pumpkin.”

When, after a few seconds of waiting, he doesn't stir, she gently strokes her index finger against his lower eyelashes. It's an age-old trick, and just like always, his eyes gradually open halfway. 

 “Hey, X.” She whispers, smiling reassuringly as he blinks in the light. For once, he doesn't make any attempt to get up. His dizziness is clearly plaguing him again. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but you need to take your meds. Can you do that for me?”

He swallows, clearly disoriented. Barely awake. “ Mm.”

“Thank you. You don't even have to sit up, alright? Just…” she takes the bottle of pills from the coffee table and unscrews the lid, shaking a couple into her palm. “Just put these in your mouth, sweetheart.”

Shakily, he obeys. Y's now empty hand is nearly immediately met with a glass of water filled up moments ago by Z. She moves closer to X and holds the rim of the glass up to his lips. 

“Now take a few sips, and swallow… Good job.”

As soon as his small (yet Herculean) task is complete, X sinks back against the pillow entirely, eyes closing. Y draws the blanket over his shoulders, hand yet again drifting to his hair. 

“How’re you feeling?” she asks softly. 

His nostrils flare. He doesn't open his eyes. “ B-bad… Di- dizzy.”

“ I bet… the antibiotics will make things better soon, pumpkin, I promise. Just rest.”

X swallows thickly. “ C-can I go b-back to sleep now?”

T gives him a small smile. “Of course you can.” She leans forward, pressing her lips to his too-warm forehead before withdrawing, still carding through his hair. “Sleep well, sweetheart. Night night.”

Within moments, his breaths even out again. 

Soon, her pager will beep, and somehow X will remain fast asleep, swathed in blankets and yet still shivering. She'll check the little device to find that she's needed down at the hospital for a delivery. She'll know that it's okay for her to leave, because there's a whole team watching over. Keeping him safe and comfortable. 

For now, however, she listens to the murmurings of her colleagues about how adorable X is (she knows, it's why she loves him so much) and traces his features with her thumb. 

“That’s it, X. Sweet dreams.”

new healing and caring sleeping sitting up Sleep on Shoulder watching someone sleep sickfic tiring tropes

ᴾᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵒᵘʳ
ᔆᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴰᵃʸ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ‽' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ
ʰᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ
ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ
ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ; ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ
ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ
ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ
ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ; ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ‧ 'ᴴᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʷʰʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵃʸ ʰⁱᵐ? ᴺᵒ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ‧ ᴵᶠ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ
ʷʰʸ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ? ᵀʰᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉˢᵗ ᵏⁱᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉˢ
ᵐᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒⁿᵈ‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ
ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧"
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʰᵉʸ! ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ
ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ?"
"ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸⁱⁿᵍ
ˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒʳ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧"
"ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ?" "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧" "ᴴⁱ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ
ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᔆᵗᵒᵖ; ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ!"
"ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ
ᶜᵃⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉ!
ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ‧ ᴳᵒ‧ ᴺᵒʷ‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ!"
"ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ
ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵘᵖ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧
"ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵘᵗ
ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍ!" "ᴼʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ; ᴵ ᵈᵒ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧‧"
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ?" "ᴬʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧
'ᴴᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ
ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵃᵗ
ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ
ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!"
ᴷⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳˢ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ
ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵏⁱᵖ
ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵒʷᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧"
"ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ
ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ
ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ; ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ! ᴮᵘᵗ
ⁿᵒ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ
ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᴸⁱᵃʳ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ
ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵘⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ
ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ
ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ
ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵖᵃⁿⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ˡⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ
ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ 
ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ!" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ
ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧
"ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵖʳᵒᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿ
ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵇʸ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ!" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᵃ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ‧
ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗⁿᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ʲᵒᵏᵉ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ
ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʲᵒⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ 'ᔆʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ʲᵒᵏᵉ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᶠᵒʳᵐ ʰᵃᵗ‧
ᵀʰʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ
ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘˡˡʸ
ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵇⁱᵍ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵃˡˡ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷʰᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ
ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᑫᵁᴵᵀ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ
ʰᵃˡᶠ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ
ᴵ ʰᵘᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵉˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ
ⁱˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ! ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳʸ
ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ
ˢᵒʳʳʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᶠᵒʳ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᴮᵃᶜᵏ ᴼᶠᶠ!" ᴵⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ
ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ
ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵏⁱᵈ
ʷᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ
ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ ᴵ
ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧"
ᴱⁿᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡᵉ

new split into parts SpongeBob SquarePants References spending the day jobcore healing and caring

Her strongest memory was of the smell of rain on hot pavement. It was a scent that didn't just fill 
her nose but seemed to soak into her skin, bringing with it a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in a 
very long time. Bluey Heeler was a creature of the outdoors, a dog with a heart that pounded in 
sync with the vast wilderness she called home. Her fur, a blend of blue and gray, blended 
seamlessly with the shadows of the eucalyptus trees that stretched tall beside her family's 
modest house. Rainy days meant puddles to splash in and the rich scent of earth coming alive 
around her. But it had been a long time since she'd felt the cool kiss of rainwater on her snout.

Now, Bluey was in the city, surrounded by the concrete jungle, a stark contrast to the boundless 
plains she'd once known. The smells here were overwhelming, a mishmash of exhaust fumes, fast 
food, and a million different creatures packed into a space so tight it made her feel 
claustrophobic. The noises were constant, a never-ending din that made her flinch and whine in 
the quiet moments of the night. Yet, amidst the chaos, she had found a purpose, a reason to push 
through the fear and confusion. Her new friend, named Mia, had taken her in, offering her a 
chance at a new life filled with love and companionship.

Mia was as vibrant as the flowers she tended in the small patch of earth outside their apartment. 
Despite the stark difference in their sizes, they shared a bond that transcended the confines of the 
urban sprawl. Each day, Mia would take her on adventures through the parks, allowing her to feel 
the grass under her paws and chase the occasional squirrel up a tree. It wasn't the same as the 
open ranges she'd left behind, but it was a taste of freedom she hadn't known in weeks.

One evening, as the two sat on the windowsill watching the rain dance in the streetlights, a distant 
howl echoed through the concrete valleys. It was faint, almost lost in the symphony of city 
sounds, but to Bluey, it was as clear as if it had come from right beside her. Her ears perked up, 
and she let out a soft whine, longing for the days when she could have joined the chorus. Mia 
looked at her, concern etched on her features. "What is it, girl?" she asked, her tail thumping 
against the sill as she tried to convey the ache in her soul.

The howl grew stronger, more insistent, and suddenly, Bluey realized it wasn't just any howl. It was 
her sister, Bingo. The same melody that had serenaded their nights back home, now calling to her 
from across the miles. Bingo's howl was a beacon, a thread of their shared past that had 
somehow found its way to her here in the city. Mia's eyes widened as she saw the recognition in 
Bluey's eyes. "Is that...?" she began, but the question was unnecessary. Bingo came in.

Without a second thought, Bluey leaped. She didn't care about the water soaking her fur or the 
cold seeping into her bones. All that mattered was finding Bingo.

The city streets were a labyrinth of wet reflections, the neon lights playing tricks on her eyes as 
she sprinted through the rain. The scent grew stronger with every bound, her nose leading her 
through alleys and across busy roads, dodging puddles that mirrored the chaos above. Mia, 
soaked and panting, struggled to keep up.

Then, a shadow moving swiftly in the rain. Bluey's heart leaped. That was Bingo! She picked up the 
pace, her paws barely touching the ground. The howl grew closer, turning into a series of excited 
barks as the two sisters rounded a corner and locked eyes. Bingo's tail wagged a mile a minute, 
and she barrels towards Bluey, knocking her over in a joyous reunion of wet dog and muddy 
paws. They rolled together, the sound of their laughter piercing the rain-soaked silence.

Mia skidded to a stop, panting and smiling through the downpour. She watched as the two sisters 
played, their tails creating a whirlwind of joy in the dim streetlight. The sight was enough to warm 
her to the core, making the dampness of her fur coat feel like a small price to pay for this moment. 
"Bingo," she called out, her voice a mix of happiness and relief. "You found her, Bluey!"

new AI Story Generator aicore bluey bingo mia

He felt his eyelid grow heavy to anesthesia.

"Alright, Mr. Plankton, you're gonna start 
feeling sleepy," the doctor's voice echoed. 
The world around him grew fuzzy, sounds 
becoming muffled and indistinct. His head 
lolled, body slack. The nurse's grew blurry, 
darkness before not even nothingness. 
Karen, his wife, sat by him.

Finally, the doctor stepped back, turned and 
gave her a thumbs up.
The nurse began to clean Plankton's face, 
wiping away the excess saliva and bleeding 
with gentle touch.

Karen follows as they wheel him out.

His bed was pushed into a small cubicle, his 
breathing slow and even.

In stumbled SpongeBob.

Karen smiles. "The surgery went well, he's 
just sleeping it off," she assured.

SpongeBob's taking in the beeping monitors. 
"What's all this for?" he asks, curiosity 
piqued.

"To make sure he's ok while he's asleep," 
Karen explained. "The doctor said he'd be 
out for a little while."

The yellow sponge nodded, his gaze 
lingering on the small wads of gauze 
peeking out from the sides of Plankton's 
mouth. "What's that?" he asks.

"It's to help absorb.."

Sponge Bob took in the sight of Plankton, 
who had begun to drool slightly onto the 
pillow beneath his head. The saliva pooled. 
"Oh no, Plankton. You're drooling!"

Sponge Bob watched as drool continued to 
form like a thin string connecting Plankton's 
mouth to the pillow. 
Karen chuckled softly. "It's normal, Sponge 
Bob. He won't feel it as he's asleep."

SpongeBob nodded, but curiosity remained.

"Can I... I mean, should I... wipe it up?" he 
asks.

Karen laughs. "It's ok, they'd take care of it. 
Just let him rest."

"I promise to be super gentle"

Karen nodded, a small smile playing. 
"Alright. Just be careful."
His movements were deliberate, eyes never 
leaving Plankton's mouth as he approached. 
The drool strand grew longer, a tiny bridge 
between his friend and the pillow.
The droplet fell away, landing on the pillow 
with a soft splat. Plankton stirred slightly but 
didn't wake. 
"It's fine. He's going to be a bit out of it when 
he wakes up anyway. Why don't you try 
talking to him while we wait for him to wake? 
It might help him feel more at ease."

"Hey it's Sponge Bob. You're ok, just having 
a little nap. No Krabby Patties to steal right 
now," he added with a chuckle.

Plankton's eye began to flutter, a sure sign 
that he was slowly coming back to 
consciousness. His body twitched, the 
anesthesia wearing off. "Looks like he's 
waking up," she said.

Karen leaned closer, her hand reaching out 
to gently squeeze his. "Honey, it's me," she 
whispered. "You're ok."

Plankton's unfocused and glazed. 
"Where... what... happened?" he mumbled. 
"You had wisdom teeth removed. You're in 
recovery," she said, voice soothing.

Plankton blinked. "Wis...wis...what?"

"You had a little...uh...dental appointment," 
SpongeBob said.

"Teeth...gone?" he mumbled, still groggy.

"You're fine," she assured.

"I feel... funny," he giggled, voice silly.

"Just relax, Plankton," Karen said. 
"But...but I wanna...see!" Plankton protested, 
arms flailing weakly. 
"Plankton, you need rest."

"But I'm not tired!" he exclaimed, as his head 
lolled back onto the pillow.
"I... I want to dance," he said, voice still 
slurred, which only resulted in more drool 
escaping.
"First, you gotta get better," she said, voice 
earnest.

Plankton's giggles grew, his eye half-closed. 
"But I'm already the best... at... at... at... " he 
mumbled, trailing off.

"It's anesthesia," the nurse chimed in. "It can 
make people say some funny things. You're 
just feeling a bit loopy, Plankton. You'll be 
back to your usual self soon."

Plankton's giggles grew softer, his eye 
struggling to stay open. "But... but... I'm not 
tired," he protested weakly, his voice a mere 
whisper. His eyelid began to droop once 
more.

Sponge Bob leaned in. "You just had 
surgery, Plankton. You need to rest," he said 
firmly.

Plankton's giggles turned into snores, his 
tiny body giving in despite his protests.

"He's going to be out for a while," the nurse 
said. "Anesthesia can take time to wear off 
completely."

Karen nodded, watching his chest rise and 
fall with each snore. Sponge Bob reached 
out and lightly patted Plankton's arm.
Plankton's snores grew quieter and stirred, 
eye cracking.

"Wha... SpongeBob?" he mumbled, groggy.

Sponge Bob's heart swelled at the sight of 
his confused expression. "Just keeping you 
company as you wake."

Plankton's eye rolled to the side. "Wha... 
what are you doing?" he slurred, his voice 
barely above a whisper. He tried to lift his 
hand to his mouth, but it flopped back down 
onto the bed with a limp thud. "Drool? I...I 
can't stop," he mumbled, his drool pooling 
around the fresh gauze.

Sponge Bob chuckles. "It's ok, Plankton," he 
said.

Plankton's eye narrows. "Not funny," he 
mumbled, words barely intelligible. Yet as he 
said it, another string of drool began to form, 
stretching from his mouth to the pillow.

Sponge Bob's chuckles grew. "I know, I 
know. It's just... you're so... so... " he couldn't 
find words, laughter took over.

Plankton's unable to control his drool. "I'm 
so...so...so..." he tried to form a coherent 
thought.

"So what, Plankton?"

"I'm...I'm not...not...drooling," he managed to 
say, words barely coherent.

But even as he spoke, a new droplet formed 
at the corner of his mouth. "You sure?" 
"St...stop," Plankton managed to mumble, 
his mouth open and drooling again. 
"It's...it's...embarrassing."

Sponge Bob smiled. "I know, you're ok. The 
surgery went well," he said. "Alright, we can 
get him ready to go home now," says nurse. 

They carefully lift Plankton from the bed, 
body still limp from the anesthesia.

"You ok?"

"Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, head lolling 
to one side. He struggled to keep his eye 
open, but the medication was too strong. 
Plankton's eye drooped shut once more, his 
snores echoing through the hall. "Whoa, 
there he goes again…"

"He's still pretty out of it," she said.

Plankton's head lolled to the side, his mouth 
hanging open. "Whoa, Plankton, wake up," 
Sponge Bob said, gently shaking his 
shoulder.

"Mmph," Plankton mumbled, his eye 
cracking open. "Where...are we?"

"Almost to the car," Karen said. "Just a bit 
longer."

But Plankton's eyelid grew heavier.

The nurse disappeared through the doors, 
leaving Karen and Sponge Bob to maneuver 
Plankton into a more upright position. His 
head kept flopping to one side, his snores 
grew louder. "Come on, Plankton, stay with 
us," Karen urged.

Sponge Bob leaned close. "You ok?" he 
asked, patting Plankton's shoulder.

Plankton's head lolled to the side, eye half-
open. "Mmph...tired," he mumbled.

Karen managed to get him in, his body 
collapsing into the seat like a ragdoll. She 
buckled him in. "You're gonna be ok," she 
whispered.

Sponge Bob climbed into the backseat.

Karen started the engine. "Let's get him 
home."

The car ride was a blur of Plankton's snores 
and occasional mumble. Sponge Bob sat in 
the back, his hand on Plankton's shoulder, 
keeping his friend from lolling too far to the 
side.

Each time Plankton nodded off, his mouth 
would droop, and gauze would slip out.

"Plankton, gotta keep it in."

Plankton mumbled something incoherent, 
his mouth still open and drooling.

Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his hand ready 
to catch the gauze if it fell out again. 
Plankton's eye fluttered open, looking 
around the car. "Just stay with us, ok?"

Sponge Bob nodded, hand on Plankton's 
shoulder. He watched as Plankton's eye 
drooped, the gauze slipping again. He 
leaned over and gently pushed it back.

"We're almost there."
 Karen chuckled from the driver's seat.

Sponge Bob’s grip on Plankton's shoulder 
tightening slightly. "Want to play a game?"

"Mmph...game?" he mumbled.

"I spy with my little eye, something..."

But Plankton's head had already dropped 
back, snores echoing. Karen glanced in the 
mirror. "I think he's out for the count," she 
said.

Sponge Bob was still vigilant, making sure 
Plankton didn't tumble out of the car. With 
Karen's help, they managed to get him to the 
couch. Sponge Bob helped prop Plankton 
up, careful not to jostle him too much. 
Everything’s just fine. 

new AI Story Generator plankbobs plaren wisdom teeth

"Hey, how's Plankton doing?" asked Patrick.
SpongeBob looks at Plankton, chest rising
and falling with snores. "He's sleeping," he 
said.
"But it's the middle of the day!"
"Well, he just had his wisdom teeth out," he 
explained in a hushed tone. "He's pretty out 
of it. But be quiet, ok?" He turned his 
attention back to Plankton, who had 
somehow managed to dislodge the gauze 
again.
With a sigh, SpongeBob carefully repositioned it. 
"You're going to have to keep that in, Plankton," 
he said, his voice a gentle scold.
But Plankton’s head lolled to the side, his 
snores growing louder with each breath, 
drool seeping through the gauze.
"Look at him, SpongeBob," Patrick whispers. 
"He's snoring."
"Patrick, shh. He's still recovering."
"Can I...can I poke him?"
 "No, Patrick," he said, his voice a low 
whisper. Patrick's finger was already 
outstretched, hovering over Plankton. "Just a 
little? I just wanna see if he'll snore louder," 
he whispered.
SpongeBob's grip on Patrick's hand 
tightened. "Patrick, remember what I said 
about being quiet," he reminded him.
Plankton stirred in his sleep, snores turning 
to mumbles. Patrick was undeterred. He 
leaned even closer to Plankton, his hand 
hovering above the sleeping creature's 
forehead. "You're okay, buddy," he 
whispered, his voice a mix of concern and 
glee. "Just rest up, and when you wake up, 
we'll have the best party ever!" Plankton's 
snores remained steady. 
He reached out and gently poked Plankton's 
forehead. "Wake up, little buddy," he cooed, 
his voice a soft whisper.
Plankton's eye snaps open, his tiny body 
jolting upright with a snort. The gauze fell 
from his mouth, and he looked around the 
room with a glazed expression, his eye 
finally settling on Patrick's massive grin.
"Wha... what's going on?" he slurred, his 
voice muffled by the anesthesia.
Plankton's eye narrowed, his head lolling 
slightly to the side. "What happened?" he 
slurred.
SpongeBob took a tentative step closer to 
the couch, his heart racing. "You had your 
wisdom teeth out," he said softly, his voice 
filled with concern. "You're at my place, just 
resting."
Plankton blinked, his eye focusing on 
SpongeBob with a look of confusion. "Wisdom 
teeth?" he murmured, his voice 
thick with sleep.
SpongeBob nodded, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton's face. "Yes, Plankton, remember? 
You're all fixed up now," he said, his voice 
soothing.
But Patrick couldn't resist the urge to add his 
own twist. "And, you snore!" he 
whispered, his voice filled with mirth.
Plankton's confusion grew. "I... I snore?" he 
asked, his voice a mix of surprise and 
mortification.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he 
assured, SpongeBob eyes Patrick with a 
warning look.
"What's it feel like?" he whispered, his voice 
a mix of excitement and concern.
Plankton looked at Patrick with 
bewilderment. "It feels...weird," he mumbled, 
his words slurred. "And my mouth is...numb."
Drool had formed at the corner of Plankton's 
mouth.
Patrick couldn't resist pointing it out. "Look, 
Sponge Bob, he's drooling!"
Sponge Bob shot him a look that was a mix 
of annoyance and amusement before turning 
back to Plankton. "It's okay, Plankton," he 
whispered, his voice gentle. "It's normal."
Plankton's eye grew distant, his mind still 
clouded by the anesthesia. 
"Everything's...so...blurry," he murmured, his 
words slurring together.
Sponge Bob and Patrick exchanged 
glances, a silent communication passing 
between them. "It's the medicine," Sponge 
Bob explained, his voice calm and 
reassuring. "It'll wear off soon."
But Patrick's curiosity was unquenchable. He 
leaned closer to Plankton. 
"Hey, Plankton," he whispered. "I... I don't 
know," he mumbled, his voice groggy. 
"Everything's all... wibbly wobbly."
"Wibbly wobbly?" 
 He looked over at Plankton, whose eye was 
still open, staring at the ceiling with a look of 
wonder. "Everything's...so...pretty,". "It's just 
the living room, Plankton. You're still a bit out 
of it."
Patrick's eyes grew wide with fascination. 
"Hey, Sponge Bob," he whispered, his voice 
filled with wonder. "Look at his mouth!"
Sponge Bob turned his gaze to Plankton, 
drooling more than ever. "Patrick, shh," he 
scolded, his voice a gentle whisper. "Let him 
rest."
Plankton's snores grew quieter for a moment 
before picking up again, a trail of drool 
connecting his mouth to the pillow.
"Is it...normal?" 
"It's just his body's way of dealing with the
surgery, he can’t help it" he murmured. "It'll 
go away eventually, all part of the process.
It's the stuff that makes you sleep through 
the surgery, like a really deep sleep so he 
won’t feel or remember.”
"But why does it keep coming out?"
"It's because his mouth is numb from the 
dental surgery, Patrick, it's his mouth 
muscles still asleep." "Can I...I mean, is it 
okay to, like, nudge it?" He made contact 
with the drool, sending a ripple through the 
salivary puddle. Plankton's snores grew 
louder, his mouth opening even wider. 
"Patrick," he hissed, his voice a mix of 
warning and amusement. "You're pushing 
your luck." His eyes remained fixed on 
Plankton, watching the drool pool grow and 
shrink with each snore. He remained 
blissfully asleep, oblivious to the 
conversation happening around him
"What if I just...dab it with a tissue?" "I guess 
it’ll help keep him comfortable." He gently 
touched the tissue to the side of Plankton's 
mouth, catching the drool before it could fall 
onto the pillow. The moment the tissue made 
contact with the saliva Plankton, who was 
now snoring more heavily, his mouth 
hanging open even wider, drool cascading 
onto the pillow, sending a ripple through the 
salivary puddle. Plankton's snores grew 
louder, his mouth opening even wider., It 
was a light touch, just enough to make the 
saliva wobble like a gelatinous blob. It was a 
tiny movement, but it was enough to make 
Plankton's snores hitch. 
"The anesthesia is wearing off, and his 
mouth is just... reacting. The numbness is 
normal." With each dab of the tissue, 
Plankton's snores grew softer, quieted, his 
mouth twitching slightly, his breathing even. 
Then Plankton's face twitched slightly, his 
expression shifting from remaining asleep 
with breathing deep and steady, to one of 
slight discomfort as the lingering anesthesia 
began to wear off. Snores had turned into 
soft whimpers of discomfort. "It’s normal he's 
starting to feel the pain." He reached for the 
medicine. “Just stay still, Plankton," Sponge 
Bob whispered. Sponge Bob nodded, his 
smile gentle. "It's just the start," he 
murmured, his voice a mix of reassurance 
and experience. "It'll take a bit for the pain to 
go away."
Plankton's mouth was still slack, the drool 
now a steady stream that pooled on the 
pillow.
Together, they managed to get Plankton into 
a sitting position, his legs dangling over the 
side of the couch.
"Hey you need to wake up just a little bit to 
take your medicine."
Plankton's head lolls back against the 
pillows.
"Patrick, hold his shoulders," Sponge Bob 
whispered urgently. "We don't want him to 
fall over."
Plankton's gaze searched the room, his 
thoughts clearly muddled. 
"There you go," Sponge Bob whispered, his 
voice filled with relief. He carefully laid 
Plankton back down on the pillows, wiping 
the last of the drool from him. Plankton's eye 
remained open, blinking slowly as the world 
swam back into focus.
"You did it," Sponge Bob whispered, his 
voice filled with pride as he swallowed 
medicine. "Now, just rest. The pain will start 
to go away soon."
Plankton's eye drifted closed again, his 
snores returning, though softer than before. 
Sponge Bob gently let 
Plankton's head back onto the pillow.
"He's okay now," Sponge Bob whispered, his 
voice a mix of relief and pride. "Good job, 
helping Patrick."
Patrick's eyes remained wide with wonder, 
his mind still racing with the excitement of 
the past few moments. "What happens 
next?" he murmured, his voice filled with 
anticipation.
Sponge Bob's smile was a mix of 
amusement and reassurance. "Now the 
medicine will kick in."

new AI Story Generator post awakening spongebob/plankton Plankton x Patrick wisdom tooth

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠄⢁⠠⠐⠀⡀⠂⠠⠀⠂⠀⡁⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣀⠀⢠⣖⣼⣿⣶⣦⣦⣤⠄⠀⠀⢰⣿⣙⡎⡝⠭⢛⡛⣒⡒⢦⢤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⢠⣼⣴⣶⣶⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⢲⣥⣌⠀⡈⠀⠐⠀⠠⠀⠰⣀⣂⢀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠠⠀⠁⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠄⢈⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠁⡀⠄⠁⢀⠐⢀⣀⠠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣶⣤⣌⣾⣿⣟⣿⣻⢟⣶⣳⢦⡽⣦⣑⣆⣎⡝⣶⣦⣄⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⢠⣤⣄⣀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣙⣃⣠⣬⣤⡀⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⢀⠀⠄⠈⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠈⠀⠄⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠄⠂⣴⣿⣿⣾⣦⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⢾⡽⣛⣮⢷⣫⢷⣏⠿⣞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠁⢀⠠⠈⠀⢀⠀⠂⠁⢀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⣄⡉⣿⠿⠿⠿⠟⣅⣄⣀⣦⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣾⡽⣯⣟⡽⣞⢧⡟⣾⣚⡿⣽⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠈⠀⡀⠐⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠄⢀⠀⢰⣶⣮⣆⡿⣷⣿⣶⣴⣶⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⡵⢾⣹⡞⣯⣞⢷⣫⣽⣳⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠄⠂⠀⠂⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠁⡀⠠⠀⢈⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣽⣷⣟⢯⣳⢽⡳⣞⢯⣷⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠐⠠⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄⠀⠐⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣽⣯⣳⣏⡾⣝⣿⠾⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣧⣤⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠐⠀⡀⠁⠀⡀⠄⠀⠐⠀⠀⢀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠂⣶⣤⣄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠻⣷⡽⣿⣀⣀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⠉⠉⠉⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠘⠀⠀⠄⠃⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠠⠀⢀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠠⣤⣤⣧⣤⣄⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠃⠀⠘⠛⠻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠇⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠁⠀⡀⠐⠈⠀⢀⠐⠈⠀⢀⠂⠀⠄⠀⡀⠠⠐⠀⢈⣀⣄⣰⣤⣤⡴⢿⣿⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⠛⠋⣽⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣇⠀⠀⢹⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⠃⠀⢠⣶⣷⣶⡄⠀⠈⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⡉⠉⠉⠉⣉⣀⣀⣀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⡀⠀⠐⠀⠁⠀⠄⠂⠁⡀⠠⠀⠈⠀⠀⠂⠀⢄⣠⠴⠖⠛⡉⠄⡐⠠⡀⠄⠐⠀⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣺⣿⠟⠁⣀⣄⠀⠉⢿⣧⠀⠘⣿⣿⠃⢀⠀⢹⣿⡏⠀⢰⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣳⢿⣽⣿⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⡏⠀⠀⠘⠉⠉⠉⢉⣀⣀⣸⣿⡆⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⡀⠀⠐⠀⠈⢀⠐⠀⡀⠂⠀⠄⠀⠁⡈⢀⣤⠗⡋⠰⠈⠄⠃⢀⠡⠈⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⣰⣿⡇⠀⠸⠿⠿⠷⠀⠀⣿⣆⠀⠸⡿⠀⢸⡄⠀⢿⠁⠀⣾⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣯⣟⣾⡟⠀⠀⣼⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⣷⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠛⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣤⡀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠐⠀⠁⡀⠂⠀⠂⢀⠀⠁⡀⠌⣠⢖⠋⡄⢒⠈⣀⠡⠐⡈⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⢶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⢿⡇⠀⠰⣶⣶⣶⠶⠶⣿⣿⡄⠀⠃⠀⣿⣷⠀⠈⠀⢸⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⡧⠀⠀⢹⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠈⠀⣀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣇⣀⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠁⠠⠈⠀⢀⠀⠁⠠⠀⢀⠂⢠⡞⡱⢈⡲⠜⡁⢂⠄⡂⠡⠀⠂⡀⢄⠠⡀⢀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⢸⣯⠉⠉⠁⠀⠈⢷⣄⠀⠉⠛⠁⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣀⣀⣰⣿⣿⣇⣠⣤⣿⣿⣿⣯⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠈⠀⠄⠐⠈⠀⢀⠈⠀⠄⢠⣼⢋⠖⣡⠞⣁⠒⢌⢂⠒⡠⠡⠌⢡⠈⠄⠂⠄⡀⠀⠀⠹⢧⣶⣾⣿⠀⡀⠄⠠⢀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⢿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠂⠀⠄⠂⠈⠀⡀⠌⢀⣾⠣⡍⠎⡠⠜⣠⠉⢆⢢⣑⣦⣷⣾⣧⣿⣾⢷⡶⣤⡀⠠⠀⠈⠋⣩⣭⣤⣤⣈⠐⠄⠎⣔⡈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⢯⣟⣾⢯⣿⣽⣯⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢩⣽⣿⣿⣏⢡⡈⣿⣿⠃⡄⢸⣿⣿⢿⠿⢿⣿⡿⢿⡿⠿⠿⡿⢟⠛⠿⣿⡿⠟⣛⡛⠻⣿⡿⢛⣉⣉⠛⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠐⠀⠀⠐⠀⠁⠀⡀⣼⢇⠫⠐⡬⢱⠘⠤⣙⢦⣷⡻⠛⡜⢩⢉⠳⡉⢏⡝⠳⣉⠖⡀⢀⠘⣿⠩⣭⣍⡙⣷⣼⣾⢶⣬⣾⠿⠿⣿⠿⠹⢿⠿⡿⢻⡿⢟⡛⠿⣿⠛⣿⣿⠛⣿⠟⣻⡙⢻⣿⠙⣋⣹⣿⣿⡟⢉⣥⣍⠙⣯⡄⢸⣾⣿⣿⣯⠰⣧⠘⡿⢰⡇⠸⣿⠁⡾⠷⠆⠹⣷⠀⣾⣿⡄⢰⣿⣷⠀⣿⠁⢸⣛⣛⣂⣹⣧⣬⣉⣉⡛⠻⣿⣇⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠄⠐⠈⠀⠐⠈⠀⣸⣏⠎⡡⢓⡬⢃⡜⢢⣿⠟⣢⠁⣇⠸⣄⠣⢆⡑⢢⢌⡱⢢⢘⠠⠡⠐⣿⠀⣿⣿⡇⢸⠇⣾⣶⣹⣇⣛⠳⠾⣿⠈⣿⡇⣼⣿⡁⣿⣿⡇⢸⣧⠘⡏⣸⣿⠐⣯⣭⣤⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠸⣿⡿⠃⣾⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⡆⠁⣼⡷⠀⣿⣄⠹⠿⢛⣹⣿⠀⣿⣿⣇⣸⣿⣿⣀⣿⣧⣈⣛⣋⣩⣾⣷⣄⣙⣋⣡⣼⣿⣏⣥⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠐⢀⡿⡌⢲⢡⢏⡔⠣⣰⡟⢯⡘⣤⢫⠔⡣⢌⡹⠘⠾⣥⡚⣜⢧⣊⠥⢃⠘⣿⣄⣛⣛⣡⣿⣦⣙⣋⣽⣯⣙⣛⣴⣿⣄⣹⣧⣼⣿⣷⣬⣭⣴⣿⣿⡧⢠⣿⣿⣷⣬⣵⣾⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠈⠀⠄⠀⠂⢀⠀⢸⡗⣌⠳⣊⠶⡸⣡⡟⡜⢣⡙⣦⣻⣾⠷⢛⡚⠻⢶⣱⢫⢞⡳⡎⡜⢄⢂⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⢿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣻⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠂⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⣾⠱⣎⡱⢭⡞⣱⢧⡙⠴⢡⠚⡡⢍⠳⢞⠻⠟⠷⢤⠻⣓⢪⢱⠓⡜⠨⢄⠰⠘⣯⣷⣏⡾⠶⣮⣶⣝⡿⣞⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⡷⣯⣟⣾⣽⣿⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
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⠀⠀⠀⢸⡱⣋⠾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⡝⣾⢩⢓⠮⡽⣾⣧⡿⣼⣡⡳⡜⣥⢻⡼⣳⣟⣿⣿⣏⢿⣻⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣋⠭⡙⣉⢉⢻⣿⣷⣯⠿⠟⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠌⠢⢍⠻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠈⠀⠀⡀⠀⠂⠀⡀⠂⠁
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4 yr. ago
Perfect__Nightmare

They all laughed at me

I suppose you could say I was bullied.

It would start with some simple na͠me calling. The second they started in on me I could feel b!ood rushing to my fac͘e. It made them more relentless. I tried to avoid them, but they always found me. They pitch me, kick me, bug me. The paın was made so much worse because this sort of ab3se should never been from famıly. And my parents did nothing.

They all hate. I did me too. I wasn't as sm͢art, or as talented as my siblings. I had nothıng to offer my famıly. I wanted to earn their lòvè, but all of my attempts just drove them further away. I had almost given up h̴ope.

And then the day came. I had just encountered my nightly bearing. I lifted myself off the floor, slowly, but my oldest brother lıcked me again. I hit the floor once more. I listened to them laugh as I drag myself over the cøld ground and into the darkness.

When I was far enough away to just barely hear their laughter, I let myself collapse onto the snow. I cried for a very long time. All wanted now to dıe.

I awoke some time later to my father's voice. "Son, wake up. I need your help." My father needed me. This was my chance to make him proud.

Before I knew it, it was time. My father told me exactly what to do. I wasn't sure I could do it, but he reassured me.

"I believe in you."

No one had ever said that to me before. My face grew hot again, but I did as my father said. This time no one laughed.

But it didn't matter. I heard the laughing in my head. I felt the attacks‎ all over again. I remembered the bloodƴ těars, the paın caused by my siblings. I remembered my father doing nothıng. My despair turned to anger, and my anger turned to hate. And in that moment, I realized the one quality in myself that might be considered admirable.

I was brave. I whispered it to myself over and over. I said it until I started to make myself believe it.

And then, I looked toward the ground beneath me. With my siblings on my heels and my father trailing behind, I led them down. My face grew hot, hotter than ever.

"Rudolph, what are you doing?!"

I could feel my father pulling on the reins, but I was determined. I was brave.

I kept going down until I met the concrete. My eight siblings followed. And then my father.

Here's the thing about magic... It wasn't enough to save us that night. But it tried. It made their dEAth slow and agonizing. But me? I smiled and I felt my face grow hotter and hotter. I knew my nose was shining brighter than ever before.

And no one was laughing.

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"Hi, my boss Mr. Krabs told me I need to
work on my people skills and to volunteer.."
SpongeBob says in the surgery room before
recognizing Plankton and Karen.

Plankton lay on 
the operating 
table, a small tube 
delivering medicine that kept 
him asleep. Karen sat by him.

"Plankton‽"

"Plankton's had his 
wisdom teeth removed." 
She glanced at the sleeping 
Plankton with affection.

Sponge Bob leaned closer. 
He poked Plankton gently. 
"Hey, Plankton; wake up, buddy!" 
No response. Plankton's 
breathing remained slow 
and even, the rhythm 
unchanged by Sponge 
Bob's nudges. Karen's 
robotic hand shot up to 
stop Sponge Bob's poking.

"He's not going to wake up 
anytime soon, Sponge Bob. 
The anesthesia will wear off 
in a couple of hours," she 
explained in her usual monotone. 
Sponge Bob's bubbly demeanor 
deflated a bit. He had never seen 
Plankton so... peaceful. Usually 
the tiny villain was full of mischief 
and plotting his next Krabby Patty heist.

But the sight of his arch-nemesis 
helpless and snoring?

"Karen, do you think a little light chat 
would help him wake up?"

"Sponge Bob, the purpose of 
anesthesia is to keep him 
unconscious during surgery 
and ensure a painless recovery. 
Your efforts are futile."

Undeterred, Sponge Bob leaned in closer. 
"Come on, Plankton. Time to wakey-wakey!" 
He waved his hands in front of Plankton's face, 
creating a gentle breeze that tickled his antennae. 
Still, Plankton remained steadfast in his slumber, 
oblivious to the world around him.

Karen sighed again, the closest she ever got to 
expressing exasperation. "As I said, Sponge Bob, 
he's under the effects of anesthesia. There's 
nothing you can do to wake him up." She went 
back to reading her magazine, the glow from her 
screen casting a soft blue light on her metallic features.

Sponge Bob studied Plankton's sleeping features. His 
mouth was open just enough to reveal his top row of 
teeth, and Sponge Bob had to stifle a giggle when a 
small bubble of drool formed at the corner of his mouth.

"You know," he mused aloud, "I never realized 
Plankton had such a... cute snoring sound."
The statement hung in the air, and even the 
normally stoic Karen couldn't resist cracking a 
smile. "Cute is hardly the word I'd use," she 
murmured, but the warmth in her voice belied 
the affection she had for her partner.

Sponge Bob's curiosity grew as he continued to 
gaze at the unconscious Plankton. He'd seen 
him in various states before—angry, plotting 
and occasionally defeated—but never so vulnerable. 
The sight was strange yet fascinating. He reached 
out and carefully wiped away the drool. Plankton's 
head lolled to the side, but he remained asleep.
SpongeBob put his head back up on a pillow. 
Plankton's snores grew quieter as his head settled 
into the cushioned embrace.

"Don't worry, Plankton," he whispered, patting the 
villain's arm gently. "I'll watch over you."

Sponge Bob's curiosity grew stronger as he watched 
the drool form at the side of Plankton's mouth. He 
leaned in closer, studying the phenomenon. He'd 
never noticed Plankton drool before.

"It's like a tiny river," he said 
to himself.

What would happen if he tried to touch it? He tapped 
it lightly. It wobbled, bulging slightly before collapsing 
back into its original state.

He poked the drool again. This time, it grew slightly larger 
before popping, leaving a tiny, wet splatter on the pillow. 
Plankton's snores grew louder for a moment, but didn't stir.

Sponge Bob couldn't resist a grin spreading across his face. 
"Looks like he's enjoying his nap," he whispered to Karen 
who remained engrossed in her magazine. The drool was 
fascinating—like a living organism, pulsating with 
every one of Plankton's breaths.

He poked it again, gently this time. The drool grew larger, stretching 
out like a bubble of gum. It was almost mesmerizing. "I wonder if 
I can make it pop," he thought, eyes gleaming with child-like excitement.

Slowly, Sponge Bob poked the drool bubble once more. It grew to 
the size of a marble before it burst with a tiny splat, splattering on
to the pillow. Plankton's snoring remained undisturbed.

Sponge Bob could see the light from the ceiling reflecting off 
the droplet's surface. He waited, the anticipation building, eyes 
fixed on the wobbling mass.

At the last second, he poked it. The bubble popped with a sound 
that echoed through the quiet room. Plankton's snore caught in 
his throat for a split second, then resumed with renewed vigor. 
The splatter was more substantial 
this time, leaving a wet spot on the pillow.

The sudden noise made Karen look up from her magazine. 
"What on earth are you doing, Sponge Bob?" she asked, voice 
a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Just... science," Sponge Bob said, his grin unabated. "I'm studying 
Plankton's snoring pattern... and drool."

Karen rolled her digital eyes. "Fine. Just don't wake him. And 
for the love of Krabby Patties, please don't make a mess." She 
returned her focus to her magazine, seemingly unfazed by the 
sight of her arch-enemy playing with drool.

Sponge Bob nodded solemnly, his eyes lighting up with newfound 
purpose. He decided to be more strategic in his scientific endeavor. 
He would need precision and timing.

The drool bubble grew again, this time larger and more robust. 
Sponge Bob waited, his heart beating faster with every pulse of 
Plankton's snore. He took a deep breath, held it, and at the peak 
of the snore's crescendo, poked the bubble with a controlled flick.

It exploded with a sound like a miniature water balloon, splattering 
across Plankton's cheek. The pillow was now a Jackson Pollock 
canvas of drool. Plankton's snoring hitched but he didn't wake.

"Oops," Sponge Bob whispered, giggling quietly. He reached for a near
by tissue to clean up the mess, his eyes glancing nervously at Karen. 
She peeked over her magazine, the corners of 
her robotic mouth curving upward slightly.

"If you're going to play, at least be tidy," 
she said, voice a blend of reprimand 
and amusement.

Sponge Bob nodded, eyes sparkling 
with mischief. "Of course, Karen," he 
whispered back, dabbing at Plankton's 
cheek with the tissue. The drool 
was sticky and clung to the fabric 
but Sponge Bob managed to clean 
when Plankton's snoring hitched.

This time, Plankton's eyes opened a crack, 
his single eyelid revealing a sliver of his iris 
before dropping shut again. 
"What's going on?" he mumbled sleepily.

Sponge Bob froze, tissue in mid-air. "Oh 
nothing," he said quickly, trying to sound 
nonchalant. "Just admiring your snoring."

Plankton's eyelid quivered but remained shut. 
"Mmph." His mouth moved around the word.

"Don't worry, buddy," Sponge Bob said softly 
patting Plankton's arm. "You're just resting. 
Nothing to worry about."

The half-awake Plankton mumbled something 
unintelligible, and Sponge Bob took it as a sign 
to back off. He retreated to his chair, watching 
as Karen put down her magazine and began 
to fuss over Plankton, checking his 
vitals and making sure he was comfortable.

For once, he wasn't at odds with Plankton. 

new plankarenbob splankaren splanktoren wisdomteethcore wisdomtoothcore droolcore hospitalcore plankkarenbob AI Story Generator

In the quiet town of Ponyville, there lived a young earth pony named Applejack. Her coarse, burnt-
orange coat was always dotted with freckles of dirt from a hard day's work on her family's farm, 
Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was known for her honesty and her strong work ethic, which were 
as solid as the oak trees that lined the property. Her mane and tail, a fiery shade of red, matched 
the color of the apples she grew with such care.

One sweltering afternoon, Applejack took a break from her chores, wiping the sweat from her 
brow with a bandana that smelled faintly of apple blossoms. She looked out over the fields, the 
sun blazing down like a second sun, and sighed. The harvest was coming soon, and she had so 
much to do. Her thoughts drifted to her friends, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, and the others, and 
she wondered how they were spending their day.

Her contemplation was interrupted by the distant sound of hoofbeats. She shielded her eyes from 
the glare and saw a figure approaching. As it grew closer, she recognized the purple and white 
unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, her friend and the town's resident scholar. Twilight looked flustered, her 
eyes wide with excitement.

"Applejack!" Twilight called out, her voice strained from the run. "You won't believe what I've found 
in the library archives!"

Applejack leaned against the fence post, her curiosity piqued. "What is it, Twilight?"

Twilight's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I've discovered something absolutely fascinating, 
Applejack. It's about an ancient artifact called the Element of Honesty!"

Applejack's ears perked up at the mention of something old and precious. "The Element of 
Honesty? What's so special about it?"

Twilight paused to catch her breath, her flank heaving. "It's one of the six Elements of Harmony," 
she began, "each representing one of the core virtues of our world. The Element of Honesty is said 
to be a rare and powerful artifact that can reveal the truth in any situation. It's been lost for 
centuries, but I found a map leading to its last known location!"

Her voice grew hushed as she unfolded the ancient parchment, its edges yellowed with age. The 
map was intricate, with swirling symbols and cryptic notations that seemed to dance before 
Applejack's eyes. "It's somewhere in the Whispering Woods," Twilight whispered, her horn glowing 
softly as she traced a line over the paper.

"Well, shucks," Applejack drawled, "that's a place I've heard plenty of tall tales about, but never 
actually visited." The wood had a reputation for being eerie and mysterious, a place where 
whispers of forgotten secrets lingered on the breeze. But the prospect of finding something as 
important as the Element of Honesty was too tempting to pass up.

Twilight's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Applejack, I think we should go look for it. It's not far 
from here, and who knows what kind of trouble it could prevent if it falls into the wrong hooves?"

Applejack nodded, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her gaze. "Alright, but we'd better tell the 
others. They might want to come along."

They gathered their friends, who were equally intrigued by the prospect of an adventure. Pinkie Pie 
bounced with excitement, Rarity's eyes gleamed with the promise of a new treasure to add to her 
collection, and Fluttershy looked nervous but determined. Rainbow Dash and Rarity promised to 
keep an eye on Fluttershy, who had a tendency to get spooked in unfamiliar places. They set out 
into the late afternoon sun, the map fluttering in Twilight's magic as they followed the path into the 
wood.

The Whispering Woods lived up to their name, with rustling leaves and hushed whispers that 
seemed to follow them through the dappled shade. The air grew cooler, and the scent of damp 
earth and pine needles filled their nostrils as they ventured deeper. Suddenly, a shadow flitted 
through the trees.

"Greetings, travelers, I am Aloysius, keeper of the woods' lore." His feathers were the color of 
moonlit silver, and his eyes held a knowing glint.

Twilight stepped forward, the map still clutched in her telekinetic grip. "We're looking for the 
Element of Honesty," she said with a hint of urgency. "Could you help us?"

Aloysius tilted his head, his beak clicking thoughtfully. "Ah, the Element of Honesty," he murmured. 
"A treasure indeed. But beware, for the woods are not kind to those who seek without pure 
intentions."

The friends exchanged glances, their determination unwavering. Applejack stepped up, her eyes 
meeting the owl's. "Our intentions are as true as my word. We aim to protect our town and find this 
artifact before it falls into the wrong hooves."

Aloysius studied them for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I will guide you to the spot where 
the Element lies hidden. But heed my warning: the woods hold secrets, and they do not give them 
up easily."

The group followed the him, their hoofsteps echoing through the quiet wood. The whispers grew 
louder, and Applejack couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Twilight, ever the 
scholar, took notes on the various plants and magical phenomena they encountered, while Pinkie 
Pie chattered away, trying to keep everyone's spirits high.

As they ventured further in, the wood grew denser, the path narrower. The light grew dimmer, the 
sun's rays barely piercing the thick canopy above. The air grew colder, carrying with it a sense of 
unease that made even Rainbow Dash's wings flutter anxiously.

"This place is giving me the creeps," Fluttershy whispered, her eyes darting around nervously.

"Don't worry, Fluttershy," Rainbow Dash assured her, "we're all here for you."

Aloysius led them to a clearing, where an ancient tree stood tall, its trunk twisted with age. The 
whispers grew to a crescendo, swirling around the tree's base like a cacophony of secrets 
yearning to be heard.

"Here it is," He announced, his voice barely audible over the din. "The Element of Honesty lies 
within this tree. But remember, it will only reveal itself to the worthy."

Applejack squinted at the tree, her heart racing. The whispers grew so loud, they seemed to form 
words, urging them to turn back. But she knew they couldn't. "Thanks, Aloysius," she said, turning 
to her friends. "Let's get to it."

new my little pony: friendship is magic fandom my little pony: friendship is magic my little pony raritycore ponycore AI Story Generator

"Honey, wake up," Karen said gently.

Her voice was the sweet sound of a lullaby echoing through the silent, sterile room, but Plankton remained unresponsive. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only reply to her soft pleas. She sat by his side, her hand intertwined with his, her thumb brushing the back of his palm. But now, his hand lay limp, a stark contrast to the warmth and strength it usually exuded.

The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold, artificial glow on Plankton's pale face. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and the rhythm was the only reassurance Karen had that he was still with her. The doctor had said it was a mild concussion, but the sight of him lying there, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. She knew that she had to stay strong, not just for herself, but for Plankton.

The door to the room creaked open, and the doctor stepped in, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He was a young man, his expression a mix of professionalism and concern. He looked at the charts in his hand before glancing up at Karen. "How is he?" he asked.

Karen's eyes never left her husband's face as she replied, "The same."

The doctor nodded, his eye reflecting the seriousness of the situation. "It's not uncommon for someone with a concussion to sleep longer than usual. We're monitoring him closely, and his vitals are stable. We've given him medication to manage the pain and reduce the swelling."

Karen leaned forward, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "But when will he wake up?" she asked, her voice a whisper of hope.

The doctor's eyes softened. "It could be hours, or even days. The brain needs time to heal. But rest assured, Mrs. Plankton, we're doing everything we can to ensure a swift and full recovery."

Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She didn't want to believe it would take that long, but she knew that patience was the only option she had. She leaned back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face.

Time stretched out before her, each minute feeling like an eternity. The only sounds in the room were the tick of the clock on the wall and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. The hospital's white walls closed in around her, making her feel trapped in a world where time had ceased to have meaning. Her thoughts raced, playing out every possible scenario in her head, each one more alarming than the last.

A nurse came in to check on Plankton, her shoes squeaking against the floor. She offered Karen a kind smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she tended to her husband, checking his bandages and administering fluids through the IV. Karen watched her every move, feeling helpless and out of place. The nurse noticed her distress and offered her a cup of tea, which she accepted with a nod of gratitude.

The warm liquid helped soothe her nerves as she took a sip, her eyes never straying from Plankton. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. The silence was broken only by the occasional murmur from the hallway or the rustle of pages as the nurse updated his chart. Karen's mind drifted back to the moments before the accident, the laughter and the joy that seemed so distant now.

Plankton had been working on his latest invention, a contraption he swore would revolutionize the fast-food industry. It was a wild tangle of metal and wires, something that only he could understand. Karen had watched him, her curiosity piqued but her technical knowledge barely scratching the surface of his genius. "What does it do?" she had asked, her eyes wide with wonder. He had grinned, his teeth gleaming in the light of the makeshift workshop. "It's a secret," he had said, his voice filled with mischief.

Now, as she sat by his side in the hospital room, she wished she had paid more attention. Perhaps then she could have anticipated the malfunction that had sent him to the emergency room with a concussion. Plankton had always been so driven by his ideas, so wrapped up in his world of gadgets and gizmos, that he often forgot the dangers that came with his experiments. It was his passion, and she had always admired it, but in moments like these, she couldn't help but worry.

The room grew dimmer as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the floor. Karen's eyes grew heavy, and she fought the urge to sleep. Suddenly, Plankton's eyelid fluttered open, revealing eye that searched the room with confusion. "Where am I?" he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy.

Karen's heart leaped into her throat, and she leaned forward, her hand tightening around his. "You're in the hospital, sweetie. You had an accident," she said softly, her voice trembling.

Plankton blinked several times, his gaze shifting from the blurry ceiling to Karen's face. Recognition dawned in his eyes, but confusion remained etched on his furrowed brow. "What happened?" he murmured, his voice still weak and groggy.

Karen's heart swelled with relief at the sound of his voice. She took a deep breath, then explained the accident as calmly as she could. "You fell while working on your latest invention. You hit your head pretty hard. The doctor said it's just a concussion, but you need to rest."

Plankton's eyes searched hers, trying to piece together the puzzle of his foggy memory. "A concussion?" he repeated, his voice a mere whisper. "How long have I been out?"

Karen's grip on his hand tightened, her knuckles white. "A few hours, darling. But it's going to be okay." She hoped her words were true, that the fear and doubt didn't seep through. Plankton's gaze was unfocused, his thoughts jumbled. He didn't remember the accident, the pain, or the panic that had brought him here. All he knew was the gentle squeeze of her hand and the sterile scent of the hospital room.

As he began to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Karen's other hand shot out to steady him, her eyes filled with concern. "Lie back down, Plankton. You need to rest." He obeyed, his head heavy on the pillow, and his eye fell shut again. The doctor had warned her about the potential side effects of the concussion: confusion, dizziness, and memory loss. It was a strange sight, seeing him so unsure of himself, a stark contrast to the usual confidence that radiated from him.

When he opened his eye again, the confusion had deepened. "What's the last thing you remember?" Karen asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye searched the room, as if the answer was hidden in the shadows.

"I... I don't remember," he said, his voice filled with a sense of panic that was alien to him. "It's all blank."

Karen felt a chill run down her spine. The doctor had mentioned that amnesia was a possibility, but she hadn't allowed herself to believe it would happen to Plankton. "It's okay," she assured him, her voice shaky.

Plankton's eye searched hers, desperation flickering in their depths. "What do you mean, I don't remember?"

Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of anxiety brewing within her. "Sometimes with concussions, memories can be a bit jumbled. But don't worry, they'll come back to you." She hoped her reassurance sounded more convincing than it felt.

The doctor had warned her that the road to recovery might be bumpy, but she had never anticipated Plankton's memory loss. Her mind raced, trying to think of ways to help him, to fill in the blanks without overwhelming him. "Do you remember anything at all?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Plankton's eye searched the room again, as if the answer was hiding in the corners. "I remember... I remember working," he said, his voice trailing off. "But it's all... fuzzy."

Karen felt a pang of sadness at the lost look on her husband's face. She didn't know how to navigate this new, uncharted territory. But she knew she had to be strong for him. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. "You just need to rest."

The doctor had instructed her to keep the environment calm and familiar to aid in his recovery. So, she began to speak in soothing tones, telling him stories of their past adventures. Her words painted a picture of a life filled with love and adventure, and she watched as his face relaxed with each passing moment.

His breathing grew steadier, his chest rising and falling in a more natural rhythm.

The hospital room was a cocoon of beige and white, the only color coming from the bouquet of flowers she had brought from home.

Plankton's chest rose and fell in the rhythm of deep sleep, his breathing steady and even. The heart monitor beeped reassuringly, a metronome to the symphony of his rest. His face was peaceful, free from the tension that had gripped it earlier.

She felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she realized the immediate danger had passed. For now, at least, he was safe, and she was grateful for every moment of his peaceful rest. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for now, she was content to sit by his side and enjoy the quiet.

new AI Story Generator comacore planktonkin concussed

PrinceJustice237
•
2y ago
As a fan of hurt/comfort/whump, I realised that I put my favourite characters through so much because I want to see their friends comfort them and help them through the aftermath. It’s good old fashioned catharsis, plus drama is just entertaining. A pure, fluffy, happy story where nothing bad happens works great for a oneshot but it’s harder to sustain 20+ chapters of that, you need drama and conflict and that requires stakes. That usually involve someone suffering to some degree.

new reddit writercore

•
2y ago
Honestly, a huge reason why I torment my favorites is so that when the comfort comes along (because it always does in my case), their friends/found family can show them how much they are loved.

new reddit writercore

Yk what fk it

Regretevator has the gayest ahh fandoms of all time bru , I can't take a step without seeing a gay horizontal threesome. So yk what? Fk it. Fk gnarpy , fk bive , fk split , fk poob , especially fk pest , or fk pest twice I hate that MF , fk Dr retro , fk it all. Oh except for lampert , he's the only chill MF

new joke reddit internet meme irony parody sarcasm comedy humour satires funny laugh laughter humor

r/TwoSentenceHorror
1 day ago
CenturyCoal

I pressed the stuffed teddy bear's chest to hear it's voice box 

the bear should have said 'i love you'  not 'let me out'

new teddycore bearcore voicecore stuffiecore reddit TwoSentenceHorror

Jessica
by reddit user Breakevencoast5  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓

My soul mate left me today. All that's left of him now, is pairs of sock that probably fell out of his suitcase, and a note labelled "Read Me" that I found on the kitchen
counter, picked it up and started to read. “just can't take it anymore. Jess, you know love you, and I always will, but over the last few months things have gotten bad for me. Yes, it's her. She's following me again and I'm scared that if she found you she'd kill you. I'm sorry, I wish I could go into more detail, but you be home in a few minutes, and I don't want to have to tell you
any of this to your face. It would destroy me to see you cry. - David.” Suddenly the front door creaked open. Instinctively, grabbed a knife off of the knife
rack and ran into the pantry. "Hello?" Called a woman from the entrance way. I didn't answer. Instead, I cracked
the pantry door open just enough to see the note on the counter.
"Anyone in here?" She yelled, walking closer to the kitchen. "I'm not going to hurt you." She stepped
into the kitchen. There was a small Swiss army knife in her hand. She picked up the note and started to read. Within seconds she started crying
hysterically. The woman fell to her knees and dropped the knife. lignored every logical though in my brain, kicked the door open and thrust the knife
into her stomach.
"Welcome home Jessica" I said, twisting the knife with a bright smile on my face.

new horrorkin reddit

1 day ago
u/Sticky_Cheetos

He handed me a box and said, “If you press this button, you get $100,000, but it takes one year off of your lįfe.”
I pressed it once, and everything went dark̵.

new darkwebcore twistedcore sadcore reddit

r/TwoSentenceHorror
1 min. ago
AcrobaticTransition4


“My lower back hurt” I told the chiropractor
Then I heard a snap and then all the pain has been permanently alleviated as i bent slumped over feeling nothing...

new horrorposting horrorwave paincore reddit malcore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
13 hr. ago
drforged
↓

“Have you ever seen a monster?” My son asked, as I tucked him in
 “No” I answered, as I looked into his many yellow eyes...

new reddit horrorcore monstercore monsterkin terrorwave terrorcore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
9 mo. ago
Jellycaine


The aliens invaded planet earth, and the human never seems to notice.
A thousand years later and they already think shadows are a natural occurrence.

new horrorwave reddit horrorcore alienkin aliencore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
2 min. ago
derf_vader


The crack in the wall was only wide enough for a shadow to pass through.
I didn't know once it went in I would be stuck here in the wall along with it, unable to leave, and unable to cry out and warn others.

new reddit horrorcore wıde terrorcore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
40 min. ago
derf_vader


"Hello Darkness my old friend..." I sang the familiar lyrics as I passed by the dark alley.
"I've come to greet you at the end," the Darkness sang back softly creeping, as it enveloped me 
in the sounds of silence...

new 3am art garfunkel simon & garfunkel darkness on the edge of town paul simon reddit musiccore darkwave darkcore horrorposting

ʳ/ᵗʰʳᵉᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ
ᵐʸᵈᵃᵈˢⁿᵃᵐᵉⁱˢʰᵃʳᵒˡᵈ

ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵍᵍ ʰᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ‧
ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃˢᵗⁱᶜ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᴵ ʰⁱᵈ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧
ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵈᵒʷ ˢᵖⁱᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁

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⡡⢣⠘⡰⢈⡒⢌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⡈⢆⡑⢢⢁⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣦⣅⡒⡌⠰⣁⠒⣰⣦⣶⣶⣶⣶⣴⣂⠜⡰⢈⠆
⡑⢢⠡⣑⠢⠜⡠⢃⠜⡰⢠⢃⠬⡑⢌⠒⡄⢣⠌⡱⢈⡒⢄⠣⢌⡱⢈⢆⡑⠢⠜⡠⢃⣿⣿⡿⢁⠆⠭⣙⢛⡛⢿⣿⣷⣷⣤⣿⠟⡋⠔⣂⠒⡌⡙⢻⣿⣆⠥⢊
⡅⢣⠒⡄⡓⢌⡱⢌⢊⠴⡁⢎⡰⢡⢊⠱⡘⠤⢊⢅⠣⡘⠌⢆⠣⡰⢉⠆⠬⡑⢊⡑⣾⣿⣿⢃⠎⣘⠒⡰⢂⡜⢠⢂⢍⣿⠏⡡⢊⠔⡡⢢⠱⢠⡑⢢⠹⣿⣎⠆
⡜⢢⠑⡰⢉⠆⡔⢊⡔⢢⢉⠆⠴⡁⢎⠱⠨⠜⡡⢊⠴⣁⠫⢄⠓⠤⢃⠎⡱⢈⠥⣼⣿⣿⡏⠆⡜⡠⠍⡔⡡⠜⡰⢈⣾⣷⢈⠔⡡⢊⡔⢡⠊⠥⡘⣰⣿⣹⣿⢈
⡜⢠⠃⡜⢂⢎⡘⠔⣨⠒⡌⠜⢢⢉⠆⣩⠑⣊⠱⣈⠒⠤⢃⠎⡌⠓⡌⡜⢠⢃⢼⣿⣿⣿⠣⡘⠤⡑⣊⠔⣡⠚⡄⢃⢿⣿⣇⢊⠔⡡⠘⠤⡉⢆⣡⣻⡿⣿⣿⠂
⡌⡅⢎⠰⡉⢆⠸⡘⢄⠣⡘⠬⣁⠎⡘⡄⢣⡘⠤⡑⢊⡑⡊⠴⡉⢜⠰⢌⠒⡌⣾⣿⣿⡏⡔⢡⢃⢒⠡⣊⢄⠣⠜⡨⢘⢿⣿⣧⡊⠴⣭⣶⣷⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⠏⡌
⡒⢌⠢⡑⠜⣈⠦⡑⢊⠴⣁⠣⠢⠜⣡⠘⡔⢨⠒⣉⠆⣡⠑⡆⣉⠦⡉⢆⠱⣸⣿⣿⣿⢃⠜⢢⠘⡌⡱⢠⢊⠜⢢⠡⢃⡌⢛⢿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣾⣽⣿⣿⠟⡡⢊⠔
⡑⡊⡔⢩⡘⠤⢒⢡⡉⡒⠤⢃⡍⠲⣀⠧⠨⢅⠚⡄⠚⡄⢣⢐⠂⢆⠱⣈⢆⡙⣿⣿⡿⡈⠜⡠⢃⡔⢡⠢⢡⠚⠤⡙⠤⡘⢢⠘⡌⢛⡛⢟⡛⠛⠭⡐⠬⡐⠣⢌
⣃⠣⡐⢄⡰⢠⠚⡄⢠⠃⠆⡜⢠⠢⡀⠔⢢⠘⠤⣐⣢⣴⣤⣾⣶⣾⡶⠿⠾⠷⠿⠿⢷⣷⣶⣷⣤⣴⣦⣴⣂⣔⠄⢣⡐⢠⠂⡔⠰⢠⠐⡄⡐⡒⢄⠣⢄⠓⡰⢀
⢆⡱⢈⠆⡔⢡⣊⣴⣡⣎⣵⣌⣆⡱⣈⣮⣴⡿⠾⠛⡍⡩⢉⠔⡠⢂⠔⡉⢆⠩⢌⡑⢢⠐⡄⠢⢌⠩⡉⢍⡙⡛⠿⣷⣾⣤⣷⠾⠷⠿⠿⠷⣶⣷⣬⣖⠉⢆⠱⣈
⢆⢂⢣⣸⣴⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⡿⢛⠋⡅⢢⠑⣡⠒⡡⢊⠴⡁⢎⠢⡉⢆⢃⡒⢌⠂⢇⡸⢁⠎⡔⠡⢆⢢⢁⡃⢆⡉⢛⠻⣿⣬⣱⢈⠱⢠⢉⠛⣻⣿⣮⡔⢂
⢌⢢⣾⣿⠟⢋⠡⢂⡱⣸⠾⡛⢡⠘⡄⢣⠘⡤⠩⢄⠣⠔⡃⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡘⢄⠋⡔⠤⢃⠜⡠⢋⠔⢢⠡⠜⡠⠜⣠⠃⡔⡙⢻⣷⣕⠢⢌⠒⠤⡙⢿⣿⡆
⣸⣿⢟⠡⢊⠔⡡⢣⡞⢅⠣⡘⢄⢣⠘⠤⢣⠐⠣⢌⠒⡡⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⠎⡌⠜⡠⢃⠎⡰⣁⠎⡸⢄⠃⢎⠱⡘⢄⠣⠔⡡⢆⡘⢻⣿⣤⢉⠆⡱⢈⣿⣿
⣿⡿⣈⠱⡈⠦⢡⠛⡰⢈⠆⣑⠊⠤⡉⢆⣡⢊⡱⢈⡌⠱⣈⠱⡈⢆⠱⢌⠢⡑⠬⡐⢣⠑⡌⢢⡑⢄⢊⠔⣨⣘⣢⠑⡌⢢⢉⠒⡡⢆⡘⢄⠚⣿⣧⢊⢔⣥⣾⣿
⣿⡇⢆⠱⣈⠑⢆⡱⢂⡱⢊⠤⡉⢆⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣬⠑⡄⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⠒⣡⠒⡡⢆⠣⢌⡡⠘⡄⣊⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠊⡜⡐⢢⠑⡌⠒⡌⢿⣯⣿⣿⣺⣿
⣿⡇⢎⣰⢆⡉⠆⡔⢡⢂⠥⢂⡱⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠘⡄⠣⢌⠱⡨⠘⡄⠣⢔⡈⠖⣨⠐⡅⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢆⠱⡈⡜⢨⡑⢌⡘⣿⣿⡞⣿⣿
⢹⣿⡄⣿⠤⡘⢰⠘⡄⢎⠰⢃⠔⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢃⠌⣑⠊⡔⢡⢃⠬⡑⢢⠘⡔⢢⠑⡌⣹⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⡿⣿⡏⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠒⣸⣿⢭⣿⠏
⢌⠻⣿⡯⢐⢡⠊⠴⡈⢆⢃⠎⡰⢙⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣿⠏⡌⠒⡌⢢⠑⡢⢌⠢⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⠱⡐⢌⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢃⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⣑⠊⡜⢰⣿⡏⡅⢊
⡌⢢⢹⡇⠎⠤⡙⠤⡑⢌⠢⠚⡄⢣⠘⡛⠿⠿⠿⢛⡉⠒⡌⢱⠈⡆⣑⠒⡌⠢⢅⠣⡘⢄⡃⠖⡡⢊⠔⡛⠿⠿⠿⠿⢋⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡠⢃⠜⡰⣿⡗⡨⢡
⡜⢠⢻⣿⠈⢆⡑⢢⠉⢆⡑⢣⠘⣄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⡘⢡⠜⢢⠑⡰⢂⡱⢈⡱⢈⠆⣑⠢⣘⠰⣁⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⡑⢌⠢⡑⠌⢆⡱⢈⠆⣱⣿⡧⡑⢂
⡜⢠⠚⣿⣏⠰⡈⢆⢩⠂⡜⢠⠣⢄⠣⡑⢊⠴⣁⠒⡉⢆⡘⢢⢉⠴⡁⢆⠱⢠⠃⡜⢠⢃⠤⢃⠆⣡⠱⡈⢆⠱⣈⠒⣡⠚⡄⢣⠘⡌⠜⢢⡐⢡⢊⣼⣿⠇⣌⠡
⡜⢢⢁⠻⣿⣷⡁⠎⠤⣉⠴⡁⠎⠤⢃⠬⢡⠒⠤⠹⣖⣴⣈⠆⡌⢢⠑⡌⢊⠴⡑⢌⠒⡌⢢⠡⢊⢔⣢⣿⢃⠒⠤⣉⠔⢢⠘⡄⢣⡘⢌⡡⠘⣄⣾⣿⠟⡰⢠⠃
⡜⢄⠪⠔⡹⣿⣿⣮⠰⢄⠢⡑⢊⡱⢈⠆⠣⠜⢢⠑⠬⢻⣿⣿⣶⣧⣜⣠⢃⠒⡌⢢⣑⣌⣦⣵⣾⠿⢋⠔⡨⠘⡔⢢⠘⢢⡑⠬⢡⠘⡄⢂⢇⣾⣿⢋⠆⣑⠢⣉
⡜⢠⠃⢎⠰⢌⢻⣿⣷⣮⡐⡡⢃⠔⢣⠘⡡⢍⢢⢉⠆⡡⢂⠜⡙⡛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢛⢛⠫⡁⢆⡘⠤⢊⡔⢩⠰⡁⢎⢡⠘⡄⢣⠘⣄⣷⣿⠟⡡⢊⠴⡁⢖⠠
⡈⡁⡌⠸⢄⡈⢄⠸⢿⣿⣿⣄⣇⠸⡀⢇⠡⡈⠄⡌⡈⢡⡈⢄⠡⡈⢄⠉⡈⣁⠉⡄⣁⠌⡠⢁⠤⡈⠤⢁⠸⡀⢇⠸⡀⠌⣠⠸⣀⣿⣿⡿⢁⠌⡠⢁⡄⠡⠌⡠
⠥⡑⢌⠱⣈⠲⣈⠦⢡⠙⡻⢿⣿⣿⣶⣌⣢⠑⠬⡐⢡⠒⡌⢢⠑⠬⡘⢌⠱⣀⠣⠔⠢⠜⡰⢡⠒⡡⢃⠍⢢⠑⡌⢢⣁⣧⣶⣿⡿⢛⠅⣊⠔⣊⠑⡆⢌⠣⣑⠢
⠣⠜⡠⢃⠆⡱⢄⠚⡄⡓⢄⠣⡘⣙⠻⢿⢿⣿⣷⣷⣦⣵⣈⣆⡉⢆⠱⣈⠒⡄⢃⠎⡱⢈⡔⢡⢊⣔⣡⣮⣶⣷⣿⣿⠿⢟⠛⡡⠜⢢⢉⠴⡘⢄⠣⠜⣈⠖⡠⢃
⣃⠣⡑⠬⣘⠰⢌⡑⢢⢉⠆⠥⡑⢄⣳⣾⣿⠯⢹⡟⡛⠻⠿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣦⣉⠆⡱⠌⡜⠢⢌⢢⠑⣊⠜⡌⠴⣈⠱⣈
⢆⡱⢈⠖⣠⠃⢎⠰⡡⢊⠜⡠⢃⣾⣿⡿⢉⠆⡹⠕⡨⠑⡌⠒⡄⢆⠢⡐⠿⠟⣿⢻⢯⡿⣽⣯⣿⣽⣿⡘⣿⣇⠻⣿⣿⣎⠔⡡⢌⡑⣊⠤⢋⠔⡌⢢⡑⢢⠱⢠
⠆⢆⠣⡘⠤⣉⠆⣃⢒⠡⡊⢴⣿⣿⢏⠰⡁⢎⠰⣁⠲⡉⠴⡉⢔⠊⡴⢁⠎⡔⠢⢌⠢⡐⢅⠢⣉⠙⣻⡇⢽⣿⡕⡨⣿⣿⡎⡔⢢⠑⡤⢚⡐⡊⠴⢡⡘⠤⠓⠤
⡍⢢⠑⡸⢐⠢⠜⡰⣈⠱⢨⣾⣿⠏⡄⢣⢘⡤⢃⠤⢃⠜⠤⡑⢊⠜⡠⢃⠜⣠⠙⡄⠣⠜⢢⠑⡤⢃⠌⡓⠤⣿⣧⠑⡸⣿⣿⡰⢁⢎⠰⡁⠦⣉⢒⡡⠜⡰⢉⠒
⡌⣅⢊⠱⣈⠱⢊⠱⣀⠣⣽⣿⢏⠰⡈⢆⣺⠡⢊⠔⡡⢊⠆⡅⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⡑⠪⢄⠓⠤⡉⠦⡑⠢⢼⣿⢡⠒⣹⣿⡇⠎⣄⠣⡑⢆⡡⠒⠤⠓⡌⡱⢈
⡒⠤⢊⠔⣡⠊⣅⠣⢄⠣⣿⣿⠌⢢⠱⣲⡇⡱⢈⠆⡱⢈⡒⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⡑⠢⢌⠱⡈⠎⡔⡑⠢⢅⠃⢞⣿⢆⠱⣈⣿⣿⠐⢢⡑⢌⡒⢰⠉⢎⠱⣐⢡⠊
⡑⡊⢅⠪⢄⠣⡄⢣⠊⡔⣿⣿⠘⡄⢓⣸⡇⠰⣁⠚⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⠤⠓⡌⢢⠌⡱⢈⠆⡅⡃⢆⠱⡉⢆⠩⣘⣿⠎⡰⠄⣿⣿⢈⠥⡘⢄⠎⣡⠚⡌⢒⠌⡢⢑
⠥⡑⢊⠔⢣⡘⠰⣁⢃⡒⣿⣷⢡⠘⠢⢼⡇⠣⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⣉⠒⠥⡘⢄⠚⡄⢣⠘⠤⡑⢌⠢⢱⢈⠒⢬⣿⠃⠴⡁⣾⣿⠠⢒⠡⢎⠰⡁⢎⠰⡉⢆⡱⢈
⢣⢘⠡⢊⠆⡜⢡⠜⡠⢆⢹⣿⡢⢉⡑⢺⣏⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⠌⡤⢉⠆⡱⡈⠖⣈⠆⣩⠂⡕⡨⠜⠢⢌⠊⣴⣿⠉⢆⠡⣿⡿⡐⣉⠲⣈⠱⡘⢌⠱⣈⠖⡠⢃
⠣⢌⠒⣉⠒⣌⠒⡘⡔⠨⡌⢿⣷⡡⢌⠩⣷⢂⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠣⡐⢣⠘⠤⡑⡘⡄⠎⡄⢣⠰⡁⢎⠱⣈⠒⣼⡟⢌⠢⣩⣿⢃⢆⡑⢢⢡⠚⠤⣉⠒⡔⡨⢑⠌
⡃⢎⡘⠤⣉⠤⣉⠒⠬⡑⢌⢂⠻⣷⣮⣴⣿⡌⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⢂⠍⡢⢑⠢⠜⡰⢁⠦⡑⢌⡂⠇⡄⢣⣿⣧⣮⣴⡿⢃⠎⡰⢨⠡⢆⡉⠖⡨⡑⡰⢁⢣⠘
⡑⠦⡘⡐⢆⠱⡠⢋⡔⡉⢆⡊⢱⠈⡍⢩⢹⣿⢀⠣⡘⠤⢃⠱⡈⠦⡉⢆⠱⡈⢆⠓⡄⡃⢆⡑⠢⠜⡰⢈⣭⣿⠩⠩⢍⢂⠣⡌⣑⠢⣑⠢⣉⢒⢡⠒⣡⠉⡆⢩
⡑⢆⠱⢨⡘⡰⢡⠒⢤⠉⡆⠜⡡⠚⣌⠢⠌⣿⣆⠱⣈⠒⡉⢆⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⢒⠌⠴⠡⢌⠓⡌⠰⣡⣿⣷⠡⢍⢂⠎⡱⢐⠢⣑⠢⡑⠔⡊⠤⠓⡄⡓⢌⠢
⠑⠊⠴⠁⠦⠑⢢⠉⠆⢣⠘⠌⠡⠣⠄⠣⠉⢿⣿⡇⠤⠉⠒⡌⠴⠁⠎⠰⠁⠎⠰⠉⡜⠰⠉⠆⠱⠈⠑⣾⣿⠏⠘⠤⠉⠆⠑⠊⠱⢠⠃⠜⢡⠊⡅⠓⡌⠔⢣⠘
⣃⠣⢄⠣⡄⢣⠊⡜⣐⢊⠱⢨⢡⠒⣌⠢⣉⠼⣿⣷⠠⡉⢆⠱⣀⠣⢌⠡⠚⡄⠣⢌⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⢉⣼⣿⣿⠌⡱⢠⠓⡌⡱⢉⢆⢊⠜⠤⡉⢆⠍⣢⠑⡒⢌⠒
⢆⠱⢊⠔⠬⣁⠞⡰⢠⡉⢆⢃⠦⡑⠤⢃⡔⢂⢿⣿⡆⠱⡈⢶⣶⣥⣊⢌⠱⣈⠑⣢⣘⣤⠿⢒⠡⣲⣿⣿⠃⡜⢠⢃⡜⢠⡑⢊⡔⢊⠜⢢⢉⠆⡚⢄⠣⠜⣨⠘
⢎⠢⢅⠚⣐⠢⡘⢄⠣⡘⣐⠊⡔⢡⠊⠥⡘⢄⣺⣿⡧⢃⠜⡠⣾⢿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣟⠫⣉⠤⢃⠎⡰⣿⣿⣇⠜⡠⢃⠦⡘⡰⢨⢡⠘⡌⠜⢢⠡⠚⣄⠣⢊⡱⣀⠣
⡊⡔⢊⢼⣤⣳⣧⣎⣔⣡⣂⣣⣜⣢⣭⣦⣵⣾⡿⢋⠴⡁⢎⠰⢸⣿⣾⡧⣿⣿⡇⡒⢄⠪⠔⡌⠰⡉⢿⣿⣧⢒⠡⢢⠑⢢⠑⢢⡉⠴⡉⢆⡱⢉⠤⢃⡱⠰⢠⢃
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ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷,𝟼𝟸𝟷

Karen walked into the 
bedroom. Plankton lay 
on their bed, 
face half-buried in 
a pillow. His snores 
rumbled through the 
quiet room. She took a 
moment to appreciate 
his vulnerability before 
she gently nudged him 
awake. He groaned, his 
eye fluttering open. She offered 
a soft smile. "It's time," 
she whispered.
"You're fine."
He nodded.

The drive to the oral
surgeon's office was tense.
The brightness
of the day seemed to mock
his anxiety.

Karen's hand squeezed
his, a silent promise of
support. As they checked in, the
receptionist's smile was
practiced, but kind.

The exam room
surgeon, a man named Dr.
Musselwhite, came in.
He explained the procedure
once more. 

The nurse began
preparing anesthesia.

"You're doing great,"
Plankton took a deep breath,
vision blurring. The
last thing he saw was
Karen's face before the
world went dark.

Karen watched the
monitors as Plankton's
breathing evened out. She clutched
his hand, her thumb
making small circles on
his palm. Plankton's
snores had been replaced
by the steady rhythm of
his breathing under anesthesia.

She leaned
forward to Plankton's still form.
Her screen traced the
IV line. 

Plankton's mouth was open
Dr. Musselwhite peered into. Plankton
twitched slightly in his sleep,
but the doctor's hand remained
steady.
Plankton's chest continued 
to rise and fall
steadily, oblivious to the
battle being fought within
his mouth.

Dr. Musselwhite finished stitching.

"It's done," he announced.

"You did it," she murmured,
voice cracking.

Plankton lay still, his breathing
even and deep. 

The surgery was over, and he
was alive. Karen leaned down to
kiss his forehead.

The nurse smiles. "He'll be
asleep for awhile," she said.

Karen nodded.
The only sounds were the
whispers of medical staff
and the hum of machinery.

The nurse wheeled him into
recovery, and Karen followed, the
medication still working its
magic.

Plankton's features were
relaxed in sleep, a stark
contrast to the fear that had
been etched there just hours
before.
Plankton's chest rose and fell
in a steady rhythm, a silent
testament to the successful
procedure by the
deep embrace of anesthesia.

As he started to stir, the
nurse offered a gentle smile as he
began to come around.

Plankton's eye fluttered open,
his gaze unfocused and glassy.
He blinked slowly.

"Hi, sweetheart," Karen's voice
was a warm embrace. 

"Whaa-...happen'd?" he mumbled.

"You're ok," Karen said softly.
"They took your wisdom teeth out."

Plankton tries to piece together the
fragments of his memory. 

He attempted to speak. "Ow?" he
managed.

Karen squeezed his hand.

Plankton's head
lolling slightly against the
pillow. His mouth felt like a
foreign landscape. Karen helped 
him sit up, the nurse
getting gauze.
"You're going to need to
bite down," she said,
handing him a piece of gauze.
"It'll help with the bleeding."

He pressed
it to his mouth, the pressure
sending a dull throb through
his jaw.

"Hold it there," the nurse instructed,
her voice a gentle guide in
his foggy world. "Keep the
pressure steady. It'll help
the bleeding to stop."

Plankton nodded, his movements
sluggish. 

The nurse handed Karen an ice
pack. "This'll help," she said. 

"It's ok,"
she soothed. "You're all
done. The hard part is over."

Plankton nodded again, his
brain still foggy from the
remaining anesthesia.

He looked around 
the recovery
room, his gaze
wondering.

"Whath's thith?"
Plankton pointed
at a machine.
Karen chuckled, the
tension easing from
her shoulders.
"It's just monitoring
you."

He nodded, his
eye still filled with
wonder. He looked
down at his hand,
studying it as if it
was the first time he'd
seen it. "Thith...han,"
he said, his voice trailing
off as he wiggled his
fingers.

"Yes, Plankton.
That's your hand."

He's mouth filled with gauze
and drool slowly seeping out.

"Karen?" he mumbles, his
voice thick and groggy. "Wha's?" 
He points to 
instruments.

"They're just tools the
doctor used to help you,"
she explains gently.

Plankton nods, his curiosity
satisfied for the moment.
His eye drift to the ceiling. 
"Why do the wight
hab funny shapes?"

Karen follows his gaze.
"They're just patterns,
Plankton. They help the
ceiling look nice."

He nods, the concept of
aesthetics lost on him.
The nurse returns to check
his vitals. Plankton
watches her with the same
curiosity.

"Whath thoze do?" He points
to the stethoscope around
her neck, his speech still
slurred.

The nurse chuckles. "It's how
we listen to your heart."

Plankton nodded, his gaze
following as she placed the
stethoscope on his chest. 
"Ca-- heaw it?" He
asked, his curiosity
unquenchable.
"That's your heart beating."
Plankton's eye grew
even wider, the
revelation a spark in the
haze. "Wow," he whispered,
his voice a mere breath.
Karen watched
his exploration with a
mixture of amusement and
affection.

The nurse returned with
discharge instructions, her
words a blur to Plankton's
still-numb mind. Karen took
the papers.

"Alright, let's get you
ready to go home," she said,
helping him to stand.
Karen's firm grip on his
arm steadied him.

Karen helped him into the car. 
The seatbelt
was a puzzle he couldn't solve
under the fog of the lingering 
drugs, but Karen buckles him
in before driving out of the 
parking lot.

"Loog ath the treeth," Plankton
mumbled. "They're waving
hewwo," he said with a
sleepy smile.

Karen glanced over, her
own smile growing. "Yes,
sweetheart. They're saying hello."

Plankton's gaze shifted to the
mirror in the car. He blinked
at his reflection, the gauze
sticking out of his mouth.
"Who thad?" He pointed at
his reflection.

Karen chuckled. 
"That's you, with a
little extra padding."

Plankton nodded, his
thoughts a slow river in
his sluggish mind.

"Thith car...it moveths,"
he murmured.
Karen chuckled. "Yes,
dear, it's a car. It takes
us places."

"Wook ath the clowds,"
he whispered, his voice
slurred.

"Thath one...loks wike a...,"
"It's a cloud," Karen said,
smiling at his childlike
wonder. "It's just water
vapor that looks like
something we see in our
imaginations."
Plankton nodded, his
eye drooping. The motion
of the car and the gentle
hum of the engine lulled
him into a doze. His head
nodded forward before
snapping back up again.

"Tired?" Karen asked.

"Mm-hmm."

His head lolled back
against the headrest, his
eye slipping shut. 

The car's AC whispered
a gentle lullaby, the cool
air playing with the
strands of Plankton's antennae.
His chest rose and fell in
time with the rhythm of the
engine, each breath a soft
snore.

They arrived home. 
Plankton stirred, his
eye blinking open.

Karen helped Plankton out of
the car. She held him
close, his weight a comforting
reminder of his presence.

Spot, the amoeba puppy,
bounded over, his gelatinous body
shifting shapes with excitement.

"Spoth," Plankton mumbled. The
puppy leapedfrogged over, his
form morphing into a blur of
happiness. Plankton's eye
lit up.

Plankton reached
for Spot with a clumsy hand,
his coordination still muddled.
Spot nudged his palm with
his squishy nose.

"Wook, Spoth," Plankton slurred,
his eye wide with childlike
wonder. "I hav- a booboo."

Spot nudges him. Plankton giggled.

"Easy, Plankton," Karen
cautioned, her voice a gentle
reminder of his fragile
state. 

Spot's eyes widened in
surprise, his little body
shivering with joy. He wriggled
closer, his gelatinous tail
whipping back and forth in
a blur of excitement. Plankton
laughed.

They made their way to
the couch, Plankton's steps
uncertain, each movement
accompanied by a little giggle.
Spot followed.
Plankton flopped onto the cushions,
his body a limp noodle.

Spot jumped up beside him.
Plankton leaned onto 
by Spot, his head lolling.

The puppy's
a comfort.

Plankton's eye grew 
heavy, the weight of
his eyelid too much
for his sluggish 
body to bear, his body 
going slack.

"Rest," Karen said, 
kneeling beside him. "You've
been through a lot today."

His hand
remained on Spot, the
puppy a comforting
presence.

Plankton's breaths grew
steady, his snores once again
filling the room.

Karen watched him sleep,
his chest rising and falling
beneath Spot's gentle weight.
The house was quiet,
the only sound the occasional
snort from Plankton's nostrils.

He slept all night, only waking
up the next morning.

Plankton awoke with a
start, his mouth wet with
drool, his eye focusing
slowly. The gauze was 
still damp from the night's
excess saliva. He sat up.

"Wha..." Plankton looked
around, the room spinning
slightly. The couch was
his bed, Spot his blanket.

He reached up to
his mouth, the gauze
still in place, the taste of
cotton in his mouth. The
memory of the surgery was
distant.

Karen's face swam into
view, her smile a warm
sunrise. "How are you
feeling?" she asked, her voice
a gentle caress.

Plankton's eye searched
his mind, looking for the
missing pieces. "I don't...
member coming hone," he
mumbled, the words slurred.

Karen nodded, her smile
soft. "You fell asleep in
the car, sweetie. I brought
you home."

But any
details were lost, a foggy
dream slipping away with
each passing moment.

"Thish mouth," he said,
his tongue probing the empty
sockets. The pain was
a dull ache, a reminder of
his body's battle.

Karen handed him a glass
of water. "Thank you,"
he murmured.

"You're not supposed to eat
solids today," she reminded
him, placing a bowl of
soup on the coffee table.
"But I made some nice,
soft scrambled eggs and toast
for you to chew."

Spot's eyes glued to his
owner, his tail wagging.

Plankton's jaw felt like
it was made of rubber, but
the food was a heavenly
comfort. Karen sat beside
him, her screen never leaving
his face, watching for any
sign of discomfort.

"It'th okay," he assured
her, his speech still slurred.
He took another bite, his
mouth working carefully.
The taste was muted, a distant
memory of what food used
to be. Yet, the warmth and
texture brought a sense of
normalcy to the post-surgery
haze.

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