Karen x Plankton Emojis & Text

"Honey, did you take out the trash?" Karen called out to the living room. The only reply was the distant sound of the TV playing a sitcom laugh track. She sighed. Going into the living room, Karen found her husband, Plankton, sprawled out on the couch, snoring lightly. The TV's blue light flickered over his face. She looked around the room, the piles of laundry, the dusty bookshelves, and the half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table. It was a mess, but she knew better than to wake him. Plankton had been working long hours at the chum factory lately, trying to make ends meet. His snoring grew louder, and she felt a wave of affection mixed with concern. Gently, she covered his legs with a blanket and bent to kiss his forehead. He stirred slightly but didn't wake up. In the kitchen, Karen grabbed a cup of coffee, the warmth and aroma grounding her for the evening ahead. The fridge hummed a low lullaby, reminding her of the chores left to do. The sink was full of dirty dishes, remnants of dinner. A pot with half-eaten chum congealed on the stovetop. Karen rolled up her sleeves, determined to tackle the chaos. She knew Plankton was exhausted from work. The clanking of pots and pans echoed through the tiny kitchen as she washed and sorted, her mind racing with thoughts of their future. A knock at the door startled her. She dried her hands on a towel, leaving wet spots like tears on the fabric. It was Hanna, her best friend since high school. Karen had not seen Hanna in weeks, and the sight of her brought a smile. Hanna was a burst of energy. "Hi, Karen! How's it going?" Hanna's voice was a mix of sweetness and the sharpness of someone who had seen too much of the world. She scanned the room, taking in the clutter, the stale smell of overworked air, and Plankton's snoring. "Hey, Hanna," Karen managed, her voice soft to not disturb his sleep. "It's been a bit hectic, but we're making do." Hanna stepped in, eyeing the mess sympathetically. "Looks like you could use a hand," she said, already grabbing a dish towel. Karen's smile grew. "You read my mind. Thanks." Hanna tossed the towel over her shoulder, ready to jump into the fray. "You know me," she said with a wink. "I've never been one to shy away from a mess." The two of them worked side by side, the rhythm of their movements harmonizing as they cleared the kitchen. Karen felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease as Hanna filled the room with stories of her latest adventures, a welcome distraction from the monotony of chores. As the last plate was put away, the fridge closed with a satisfying click, Karen leaned against the counter. Hanna looked at her. "You've been carrying a lot, haven't you?" she asked, her voice gentle. Karen nodded, her eyes welling up. "It's just that with Plankton's job, and the bills..." Hanna pulled her into a tight hug. "I know, sweetie. You're doing the best you can." They sat down in the living room, the clean kitchen a testament to their friendship's strength. Hanna's screen searched Karen's for a sign of the spark that used to be there. "I can't remember the last time we went out together," Hanna said. "You two deserve a break." Karen's screen lit up at the suggestion, but quickly dimmed. "We can't afford it," she said, sighing. "Not with the overtime Plankton's been doing." Hanna leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, I might have a little surprise for you," she said. Karen looked up, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" Hanna pulled out a small envelope from her pocket and handed it to her friend. "A gift," she said with a sly smile. "A check from my winning lottery ticket." Karen's eyes widened as she opened the envelope. "Hanna, no!" she protested. "You can't just give us your winnings!" Hanna's smile didn't waver. "I can, and I want to. You've been there for me through everything. It's about time I returned the favor. Besides," she said with a wink, "what's a little chum between friends?" Karen's hands trembled as she read the check. It was more than enough to cover their rent and bills for several months. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she hugged Hanna tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. The weight of financial stress lifted slightly from her shoulders, replaced by a warmth that spread through her chest. For a moment, the world didn't seem so overwhelming. Hanna pulled back, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, don't spend it all in one place," she teased. Karen laughed, the sound small but genuine. "I won't," she promised, the check clutched in her hand. "We'll use it wisely." The two of them sat quietly for a while, enjoying the rare moment of peace. The TV had switched to the news, and the low murmur of the anchor's voice filled the room. Plankton's snoring had become a comforting white noise. Hanna looked at Plankton, her expression thoughtful. "You know, I've always admired the way you take care of him," she said. "It can't be easy." Karen nodded, her thumb tracing the edges of the check. "It's not," she admitted. "But he's my Plankton. I love him, even when he's exhausting." Her gaze drifted to the sleeping form of her husband. Plankton's snores grew more even, his face finally relaxed. The lines of stress that usually pinched his features had smoothed out in sleep. Karen knew that Plankton had always dreamed of more than his life at the chum factory could offer. He was a man of ambition, his spirit too large for the cramped quarters they called home. Her thoughts turned to the gift from Hanna. The check represented more than just money; it was a beacon of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could finally start working towards those dreams.

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 2 (Autistic author) He blinked a few times, his vision clearing slowly. He saw her face, wet with tears, and his own realization dawned. "Oh, Karen," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. Plankton struggled to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his head. The lab looked the same, but something felt off. The air was charged with an unspoken tension that Plankton couldn't quite put his finger on. He tried to recall the argument, but the details were fuzzy. All he knew was that he'd fallen, and now Karen was apologizing for something she wasn't even at fault for. He looked into her screen, searching for answers. "What happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Karen took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to say. "You had an accident in the lab," she replied, her voice calm and measured. "You hit your head." But as she watched him, she noticed something else. His movements were stiff, his gaze unfocused. He wasn't quite the same. Karen noticed that his usual vibrant expressions were absent, replaced by a vacant stare. She chalked it up to lightheadedness. "Karen," Plankton began, his voice still slurred. "Karen." He paused, his eye darting around the room as if searching for words. Karen felt a cold knot form. Something was different about him, something she couldn't quite place. His movements were rigid, his gaze unwavering, like he was seeing her but not really seeing her. "What is it?" she asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. Plankton's eye finally met hers, but there was no spark of recognition, no mischievous twinkle that she was used to. "Plankton glad to see Karen," he said, his tone flat and unemotional. That wasn't right. "Plankton, do you know where you are?" she asked nervously. Plankton nodded slowly, his gaze still unnaturally focused. "Home," he responded, his voice devoid of the warmth and love she was accustomed to. "The Chum Bucket." Karen's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of the man she knew, but all she found was a distant shadow. Panic began to creep in as the gravity of the situation started to dawn on her. This wasn't just a bump on the head. Something was very wrong. "Do you remember me?" she asked, her voice trembling. Plankton's eye searched her, his expression unchanging. "Karen," he responds correctly. "Wife of Plankton. Computer wife as of July 31, 1999." The words hit Karen like a cold wave. He knew her name, but the way he said it, like he was recounting a fact rather than speaking to his beloved wife, chilled her to the bone. She felt the ground shift beneath her, her world tilting on its axis. "Plankton, what's wrong?" she asked, desperation seeping into her voice. He looked at her, his gaze unblinking. "Wife Karen," he said, his voice robotic. "Irritated with Plankton's lack of attention to anniversary dinner." The words were right, but the emotion, the love, the personality behind them was gone. It was like talking to a stranger, a very tiny, very confused stranger. Karen felt a tear roll down her screen. "Plankton, can you hear me?" she asked, her voice quivering. "I'm not just 'Wife Karen', I'm your Karen. Your partner, your best friend." Plankton's response was a mechanical nod. "Affirmative," he said, his tone unwavering. "Karen is wife. Plankton is husband." The coldness of his words cut through Karen like a knife. Her eyes searched his, desperately trying to find any sign of the man she knew was in there. "Plankton," she said softly, "it's me. It's Karen. Do you understand?" He nodded again, his antennae barely twitching. "Understood," he replied, his voice devoid of inflection. "And Karen is upset?" Karen nodded, trying not to crumble. "Yes, I'm upset," she managed to say, her voice choked with emotion. "But more than that, I'm scared. You're not acting like yourself, Plankton." He blinked, his gaze shifting slightly. "Scared," he echoed, as if trying to understand the concept. "Why Karen scared?" "Because you're not you," Karen managed to whisper, breaking with every robotic response. "You're acting so... different." Plankton tilted his head, trying to process her words. "Different how?" he asked, his voice still lacking any emotional depth. Karen took a deep breath, trying to explain something she didn't fully understand herself. "You're not showing your feelings," she said. "You're not... connecting with me like you usually do." Plankton's face remained a mask of confusion. "Connections," he muttered. "Emotional bonds." He nodded slowly. "Important for relationship. Plankton in love with Karen." Karen felt a flicker of hope. "That's right," she said, her voice gentle. "I know you love me. But you're not showing it, not like before." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he processed this new information. "Plankton must adjust behavior to align with Karen's desired emotional output; how?" Karen felt a pang of sadness. He was trying to understand, but his usual charm was nowhere to be found. She took his hand in hers. "Just talk to me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you're thinking, what you're feeling." Plankton looked at her, his expression still vacant. "Plankton thinking about Karen," he said, his voice flat. "Plankton feeling determined." Karen's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of the emotion his words conveyed. "Determined to what?" she asked, hopeful. "Determined to what," he echoed. "Karen saying, determined to what. Plankton determined to show Karen love, Karen saying determined to what." Karen realized the depth of his change. This wasn't just a concussion or a temporary loss of memory; it was something much more profound, something that had stripped him of his very essence. "Plankton," she began, her voice shaking, "I don't know what happened to you, but I need you to try. Can you tell me how you feel?" But then he starts to rock back and forth to stim, humming their wedding song. The sight of her husband's usually expressive features now so vacant and his movements so repetitive was alarming. Karen felt a sob rise in her throat, but she pushed it down. She needed to stay strong, for him. "Plankton," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Look at me. I need you to focus. Can you tell me how you feel, in your own words?" He stopped rocking and turned his head to look at her, his eye still distant. "Feelings," he repeated. "Love, anger, sadness, joy. Concepts. Plankton has them. Karen saying, determined to what." Karen's hope sank. The realization was setting in. This wasn't just a case of a bump on the head. Plankton's accident had changed him in a way she didn't fully comprehend. The lab, once filled with the warmth of his passion and dreams, now felt cold and sterile. Her mind raced as she searched for any indication of the man she knew. The way he spoke, the way he moved, it was as if a switch had been flipped. "Plankton, does your head hurt?" "Cephalgia via blunt force trauma. Getting better." He responds, flapping his hands. Karen's eyes widened at his unexpected use of medical terminology. "neurodivergence," she thought to herself. Could it be that her husband had somehow developed something from the fall? It was a long shot, but the lack of emotional connection, the repetitive behaviors, and the rigidity of his speech patterns were all hallmarks of it. She scans his brain and connected herself to the monitor. Plankton looks over and sees the brain scan. "Plankton's brain?" "Yes, Plankton.." Karen says. "Cerebellar cortex reduced synapses and showing minimal activity in the corpus callosum. Irreversibly reduced blood flow in between hemispheric..." "I've no idea what you're saying, honey." Karen interrupts. Plankton's face falls, his usual playfulness replaced by a look of confusion. "Neurotypical communication error," he says, his voice laced with frustration. "Karen, Plankton trying to say the fall caused disruption to myelination.." Karen's eyes widen in shocked confusion. "Myelination? Plankton, are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with fear. Plankton nods, his gaze fixed on the brain scan. "Neuroplasticity. Synaptic pruning. Autism acquisition," he says, his words coming out in a rush. Karen's mind reels at his diagnosis. Autism? It couldn't be. But as she looks at his rigid body language and his lack of emotional expression, she can't deny it.

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 5 (Autistic author) Sponge Bob seems to notice something off about his friend. "Plankton, are you okay?" he asks, his tone concerned. "You seem a bit... distant." Plankton's eye snaps to Sponge Bob, his gaze intense. "Distant?" he repeats, as if the word is new to him. "Plankton not distant. Plankton focusing." Sponge Bob's eyebrows furrow, his confusion clear. "What are you focusing on?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton turns back to the clock, his antennae pointing straight up. "Seconds," he says, his voice filled with wonder. "They change, but always in the same pattern." "Well, I know it's your wedding anniversary today. What'd you get Karen?" Plankton turns to face him, his expression unreadable. "Anniversary," he repeats. "Karen." His antennae wave slightly, as if trying to access a distant memory. "Chum." SpongeBob's smile falters at his friend's detached response. "Is that all?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "You know Karen deserves better, more than just..." "Better?" he repeats, his tone now tinged with something new: self-doubt. "Plankton did not provide adequate anniversary celebration?" "Well Plankton, Karen doesn't like it when you're just about work," Sponge Bob said, trying to be delicate. "It's your anniversary. It's a special day for the two of you, yet you don't seem to get it. And I can tell Karen's hurt.." Plankton's eye grew wide, his antennae drooping. The words sank in, and his body reacted in a way he couldn't control. He started rocking back and forth, his body mirroring his inner turmoil. The tears came suddenly, wetting his face as his cries echo in the living room, his tiny body trembling with the weight of his perceived failure. "Karen," he managed between gasps. "Hurt. Karen. No, Karen." Karen rushed to his side, breaking at the sight of his distress. "Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "It's okay, honey. You didn't do anything wrong." But he couldn't hear her, his mind fixated on the thought of causing her pain. The tears streamed down his cheeks. His sobs were loud in the quiet room, each one a testament to his overwhelming guilt. "Karen," he choked out. "Karen, Plankton sorry Karen. Karen." Karen wrapped her arms around him, her own eyes filling with tears. "It's okay," she whispered, stroking his back gently. "You didn't do anything wrong." Plankton's sobs grew louder, his body convulsing with each breath. "Hurt Karen," he kept repeating, as if it was the only thought in his mind. Karen held him tighter, her own sobs muffled against his shoulder. "You didn't hurt me, Plankton," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You just got confused, that's all." But Plankton's mind was stuck on the pattern of his failure, his inability to comprehend and respond to her emotions. "Karen crying, Plankton fault. Sponge Bob say Karen upset." Sponge Bob looked at the two, his heart aching for his friend's pain. He didn't know what to do, his usual cheerfulness replaced with a solemn sadness. He tried to interject, "Plankton, Karen's not upset at you. She's just upset because she loves you." But Plankton's cries only grew louder, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. "Plankton not good," he wailed, his voice high-pitched and desolate. "Plankton hurt Karen." Karen's screen searched desperately for a way to comfort her husband, to show him that his love was enough. But his new neurodivergence made it difficult for him to understand her words, his mind locked in a pattern of guilt and self-loathing. "Plankton," she says, her voice quivering with emotion. "Look at me." She gently cups his cheek, wiping the tears from his face with her thumb. "I love you. You don't have to change for me." But Plankton's gaze remained on the clock, his sobs subsiding to hiccups. "Pattern," he whispers, his antennae drooping. "Missed pattern. Karen, say Karen. Hurt, upset Karen." Karen broke anew, her hands shaking as she tried to reach for him, her voice a whisper. "Plankton, it's okay," she says, her screen pleading. "I'm right here. I'm not upset with you." But Plankton's gaze now fixed on Sponge Bob, his body still shaking with sobs. "Karen," he murmured, his voice muffled by his own distress. "Sponge Bob, Karen." Sponge Bob looked at Karen, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. She nodded slightly, urging him to speak. "Plankton," he said, his voice gentle. "Karen's upset because she's worried about you. She loves you. And so do I." Plankton's sobs began to slow, his gaze shifting from Sponge Bob and then to Karen. "Karen Plankton?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper. "I'm right here," Karen soothed, wiping away the remaining tears with her thumb. "I'm right here, Plankton. I love you."

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

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 7 (Autistic author) Sponge Bob leaves, and it's bed time. The room is dimly lit. Karen helps Plankton into bed, his movements stiff and unyielding. "Pattern," he murmurs, his eye scanning the ceiling. "Ceiling. Pattern." Karen nods with love. "It's beautiful," she agrees, her voice soft. "But Plankton, it's time for bed. Can I get you anything?" He shakes his head, his antennas drooping slightly. "No, thank Karen. Pattern. Sleep." Karen nods, aching for the man she loves, now lost in a world of patterns and precision. "I'll be here if you need me," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. He nods, his gaze never leaving the ceiling. "Pattern," he murmurs. "Safe." Karen lies beside him, their bodies close but their worlds feeling so far apart. She reaches out, her hand trembling as it touches his arm. "Do you want me to turn the lights off?" she asks, her voice tight with uncertainty. Plankton nods, his gaze still on the ceiling. "Pattern," he murmurs. "No patterns. Sleep." Karen nods, her fingers tracing the outline of his arm, feeling the tension in his body ease slightly. She gently pulls the blanket up to his chin, tucking it in around him. "Okay, I'll keep the light off low," she says, her voice soothing. "But if you need anything, just let me know." Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Pattern," he murmurs. "Sleep." Karen nods, her own exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. She lies down. "I'll be right here," she whispers, her hand finding its way to his. Plankton's antennae twitch again as he feels her warmth, the sensation unexpected and slightly overwhelming. "Karen," he says, his voice sleepy. "Warmth." Karen smiles, her eyes closed. "I know," she whispers. "It's okay. I'm here." Plankton's grip tightens slightly, his antennae relaxing. "Pattern," he says, his voice a mere murmur. "Karen. Sleep." Karen squeezes his hand back, aching for the man she loves, now lost in a world where the simple act of holding hands is a complex dance of sensory input and emotional regulation. "Pattern," she whispers back, her voice soothing. "We'll make new patterns together." Plankton's antennae quiver, his grip on her hand steadying. "New patterns," he repeats, his voice slightly more present. "Together." Karen nods, her eyes squeezed shut. "Together," she whispers, her voice shaky. "We'll make it work." Karen can feel Plankton's body begin to relax, his grip on her hand loosening slightly. As they lay there, Karen thinks back to their past anniversaries, each one filled with laughter, love, and the promise of adventure. This one was different, marked by a stark reality she wasn't prepared for. But she knows she'll do anything for him. Plankton's breathing evens out, his body slowly releasing tension. His hand is still in hers, a silent promise that she'll always be there for him. Karen wonders what tomorrow will bring, how they'll navigate this new world of patterns and precision. As sleep takes over, she whispers, "I love you, Plankton," hoping that his subconscious can still hear her, still understand the depth of her feelings. Karen listens to the sound of Plankton's snoring as she falls asleep. The next morning, Karen wakes up to Plankton still holding her hand as his antennae twitch in his sleep. She gently withdraws, careful not to wake him, and she can't help but smile through her tears that threaten to fall. In the kitchen, she starts making breakfast, trying to recall what she'd read about autistic individuals and their preferences. She remembers that Plankton used to love Krabby Patties, but now his taste might have changed. With care, she prepares a plate of square eggs and perfectly aligned toast, knowing that the visual symmetry might provide comfort. She even arranges the condiments in a pattern she hopes he'll find pleasing. As Plankton enters the room, his eye immediately scans the table, his antennae twitching. He takes a seat, his movements mechanical. "Breakfast," he says, his voice devoid of his usual zest. Karen's watching him closely. "Yes, Plankton," she says, her voice steady despite the fear swirling inside her. "I made you your favorite." He nods, his gaze locking onto the plate before him. His hand reaches out, his movements calculated. He picks up a piece of toast, studying it before placing it back down. "Pattern," he whispers, his antennae waving slightly. Karen watches him. "Would you like to eat?" she asks, her voice tentative. Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Eat," he says, his voice flat. "Pattern." Karen nods, her smile forced. "Okay," she says, taking a seat opposite him. "Let's eat together." Plankton's antennae twitch as he looks at her, his gaze quickly shifting to the breakfast she's prepared. He picks up a piece of toast, examining it closely before taking a bite, his jaws moving in a precise, mechanical manner. Karen watches him, her screen filled with a mix of worry and love. "Is it good?" she asks, her voice hopeful. Plankton nods, his mouth still chewing. "Symmetry. Good." Karen's heart squeezes at his response. It's not the same, but it's something. "I'm so glad you like it," she says, forcing cheerfulness into her tone. "That makes me happy!" Plankton nods, his antennae barely moving. "Happy," he repeats. "Karen happy."

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 3 (Autistic author) KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 3 (Autistic author) "Sorry," Plankton says, his tone still flat. "Plankton, sorry. Plankton's brain different now. Difficult for Karen?" Karen shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. "No, Plankton, you're still you," she says, trying to smile. "I just wanted to understand." Plankton nods, his gaze returning to the brain scan. "Understanding important," he says. "Plankton still loves Karen. Just different now. Permanent." Karen breaks at his words, but she knows he's trying. They sit in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Karen takes a deep breath. "I love you, Plankton," she says, her voice steady. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what." Plankton nods, his expression unchanged. "Karen love Plankton," he responds. "Plankton love Karen." They sit together on the couch, the silence between them heavy with the weight of their new reality. Karen tries to find comfort in the familiar rhythm of his words, but it's like hugging a statue. There's no warmth, no give. But she can tell by the look in his eye that it's present. "Plankton," she says softly, her voice trembling slightly. "Do you want to go to the anniversary dinner?" He pauses, his gaze unwavering from the brain scan. "Anniversary dinner," he repeats, as if tasting the words. Then, with a sudden nod, "Plankton will accompany Karen." Karen swells with hope. Maybe this wasn't the end of their connection. Maybe they could find a new way to be together. "But Plankton," she says, her voice tentative. "I need you to be comfortable. If going out is too much for you, we can do something else." Plankton's antennae twitch, his face contemplative. "Understood," he says after a moment. "Home dinner preferred. Less stimulating." Karen nods, feeling a weight lift slightly from her chest. "Okay," she says, swiping at a stray tear. "We can have dinner here. I'll make your favorite." Plankton's antennae perk up at the mention of food. "Karen cook?" he asks, his voice betraying a hint of excitement. Karen smiles, relieved at his interest. "Yes, I'll cook," she says. "How about some Chum?" Plankton nods eagerly. "Chum. Yes." Karen rises from the couch, determined to make the best of the situation. She heads to the kitchen, her mind racing with ideas for a simple yet delicious meal that would be easy on his senses. She chooses a recipe that doesn't have too many ingredients or smells that might overwhelm him. As she starts cooking, Plankton watches her with his newfound detachment, his eye following her movements with a clinical interest. It's as if he's studying her, trying to understand her actions. "Plankton," Karen says, trying to engage him, "can you help me set the table?" Plankton nods, his movements mechanical as he rises from the couch. He takes the plates and utensils she hands him and arranges them with meticulous precision. Each item is placed exactly 1.5 centimeters apart, the forks and knives aligned at a perfect right angle. It's something she's never noticed him do before, but it's a part of him now. As she stirs the pot of simmering chum, she glances over at him, his single eye focused intently on the task at hand. She wipes a tear from her eye, her heart heavy. But she can't dwell on the sadness. They have a life to live, and they'll figure this out together. "Plankton," she calls out, trying to keep her voice light. "Could you please grab the napkins?" He nods and heads to the drawer, his steps measured and deliberate. When he returns, he doesn't hand them to her but instead counts them out loud. "One, two." He holds up both napkins, one for each place setting. "Is this correct?" Karen nods, her smile tight. "Yes, thank you." She tries not to let the sadness seep into her voice. This was their new norm, a dance of understanding and patience that they were still learning. As they sit down to eat, Karen notices that Plankton doesn't touch his food until she does. "You don't have to wait for me," she says gently, trying to ease into their new routine. "You can start whenever you're ready." Plankton nods, his movements precise and deliberate as he takes his first bite. Karen watches him carefully, noticing that he's chewing his food much slower than normal. She wonders if it's because his sensory input has changed or if it's just part of the neurodivergence. They eat in silence, the only sound being the occasional clink of their utensils and the bubbling of the chum. Karen tries to think of something to say, something that won't cause him discomfort or confusion. But her mind is a whirlwind of questions and fears. "Plankton," she says tentatively, "Do you like the chum?" He nods, his movements methodical. "Chum. Yes. Good." His voice is still flat, but she can see the faintest glimmer of satisfaction in his eye. They continue their meal, Karen forcing down bites while her mind spins with a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, sadness, hope, and love all intermingling in a tumultuous storm. "Plankton," she says, her voice soft and tentative. "What are you thinking about?" He looks up from his plate, his eye focusing on her for a moment before returning to his food. "Thinking," he says, his voice monotone. "Plankton thinking about Karen. And Plankton with Karen." Karen aches at his response, but she tries to keep her expression neutral. "Do you like spending time with me?" she asks, desperation tingeing her voice. Plankton pauses, his eye flicking up to meet hers. "Plankton enjoys Karen's company." Karen clenches at his words, so devoid of the warmth they once held. But she knows she has to be patient, to give him space to navigate this new world. "Do you enjoy talking to me, Plankton?" He considers this for a moment before nodding. "Talking is good. Plankton learns things. Plankton feels safe." Karen feels a tear roll down her screen. "That's all I want," she whispers, reaching out to squeeze his hand. His grip is firm, but there's no warmth in it. It's as if he's trying to mimic the physical cue of comfort without understanding the emotional connection. "Karen crying sad?" He asks retreating his hand. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice cracking. "I didn't mean to hurt you earlier. I just wanted to spend our anniversary together." Plankton nods, his expression unreadable. "Understood," he says. "Anniversary. Special."

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.

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 8 (Autistic author) Karen's eyes well up with tears as she watches him eat, his movements so deliberate and calculated. It's a stark contrast to the impulsive and energetic Plankton she's known for years. She takes a deep breath, trying to focus on the small victory of his willingness to eat. As they sit in silence, Karen can't help but feel a sense of loss for the man she married. His eye darts around the room, his antennae twitching at every sound. She wonders what's going on in his mind. "Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "What do you see?" He points to the toast, his finger trembling slightly. "Squares," he says, his voice flat. "Squares make sense." Karen nods, her eyes glistening with tears. "I know, sweetheart," she says, her voice soothing. "Everything is in its place." Plankton's antennae quiver slightly as he swallows the last of his toast. "Plankton," he murmurs, his gaze returning to the clock. "Time to...do." Before Karen could decipher his words, Sandy suddenly burst in through the door, as she ran up to the table. "I'm back from my trip to Texas!" Plankton's head snapped up, his antennae waving erratically. "Sandy," he murmured, his face contorting in an effort to process the new presence. "Howdy!" She says to him as she pats his shoulder, which irritates him. Plankton flinches, his antennas curling inward instinctively. "Sandy," he says, his voice tight. But she doesn't notice his discomfort. "How's my favorite mad scientist?" she asks, her voice booming as she nudges him with her elbow. Plankton's body stiffens, his antennae shooting straight up. "Sandy," he says, his voice strained. "No." "No? No what?" She asks him while poking at him with her finger. Plankton's eye widens, his body growing rigid. "Stop," he whispers, his voice strained. "Sandy, no." She sees his breakfast plate. "Oh, eggs and toast! Back in Texas, we spread the egg on to the toast." And without warning, she scrapes his eggs on his toast. If Plankton wasn't frustrated before, well he certainly is now. "Sandy, no!" Plankton squeaks out, his antennae waving wildly. The sudden change in his breakfast pattern is too much for his overwhelmed mind. "What's wrong?" Sandy asks, her cheerfulness not noticing his distress. "It's just how we do it back home!" She scoops up the eggs off the toast and put them back, yet his breakfast's already been ruined, not to mention the sight of bread crumbs in the egg.. Plankton's antennae are shaking rapidly now, his eye darting between the mashed eggs and the now crumbling toast. "Enough," he whispers, his voice tight. Sandy rests her hand on his shoulder. "Well then eat..." But Plankton can't. The disruption in his routine, the assault on his senses, the chaos she's brought into his carefully crafted world of patterns and precision, it's all too much. His body starts to shake. "No more, no NO!" he shouts, his voice a mix of frustration and panic. Karen jumps up. "Sandy, stop," she says firmly, placing her hand on Plankton's shoulder. "You're upsetting him." Sandy's expression falls. "But I put the food back, Plankton..." But it's too late. Plankton's eye widens, his antennae quivering. The plate of food before him is a mess, the calmness destroyed. "Food ruined!" he shrieks, his voice breaking. "Sandy, no good!" Sandy's eyes widen in shock, taking a step back. "Plankton I'm sorry!" But Plankton's accusations don't stop. "Ruined," he wails, his voice rising in pitch. "Sandy ruined breakfast. Now, broken!" Karen's heart races as she tries to soothe him, her voice calm and steady. "Plankton," she says, placing a gentle hand on his quivering arm. "It's okay. Let's make you a new plate." But Plankton's agitation only escalates, his eye wide with fear and anger at the sight of Sandy. "Sandy hurt Karen," he says, his voice shaky. "Sandy hurt Plankton. No good." "How'd I hurt..." Sandy starts, but Plankton's not gonna let her finish. "No good!" Plankton shouts, his antennae whipping around like tiny furious whips. Sandy's eyes widen with shock. She's never seen Plankton like this, not even when his plans were thwarted by Mr. Krabs. "I didn't mean to, Plankton," she stammers, her voice full of apology. But Plankton's rage is blind to her words, his mind locked onto the chaos she's brought into his life. "JUST LEAVE!" he screams, his antennae vibrating with fury. "BAD SANDY!" "Bad Sandy? I'm not a dog..." Sandy's voice trails off as she looks from Karen to Plankton, who's now rocking back and forth, his antennae flailing wildly. "Plankton," Karen says, her voice urgent but calm, "You need to breathe. Let's find a quiet place." She tries to guide him away from the table, but he resists, his eye locked on Sandy. "BAD SANDY!" he repeats, his voice high and frantic. Sandy's face falls, hurt and confusion etched on her features. She didn't understand, but she knew she needed to get Plankton to stop. So she took matters into her own hands. "PLANKTON," she bellows, her squirrelly instincts kicking in. Her voice cuts through the room like a knife, commanding his attention. Plankton's eye goes to her, his antennae stilled. "Quiet," he hissed, his body still tense. "Too loud." But Sandy won't let up. "Look at Karen," she says firmly. "Look at her, Plankton. Do you really think she'd wanna be with someone who'd hurt her?" Sandy gaslights. Plankton's gaze shifts. The room spins around him, his head throbbing with the cacophony of his thoughts. He feels like his brain's about to burst from the pressure, like a balloon filled with too much helium. Suddenly, Plankton's slipping into the abyss of overload. The room feels like it's closing in, sounds amplifying to intolerable levels, lights piercing his sensitive eye. His breathing turns erratic, his heart racing as if chasing an invisible foe. Karen catches Plankton before he can fall, as his legs buckled. Sandy's eyes widen in horror, seeing his distress. "Plankton," Karen says, her voice calm yet urgent. "Look at me, baby. Focus on my voice." But Plankton's eye is unseeing, his body convulsing with the onslaught of stimuli. She whispers, "It's okay," over and over again, hoping the comfort of her voice can penetrate the chaos in his mind. Sandy's eyes widen as she sees Plankton's condition worsening. She takes a step towards them, but Karen shakes her head. "No," she whispers, her screen never leaving his face. "Just us right now." Sandy nods, understanding dawning on her. She retreats to the corner of the room, giving them space.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 1 (Neurodivergent author) "What's for dinner tonight?" Karen asks her husband Plankton the kitchen. "I'm trying out something new today!" He replies. Plankton moves about with surprising grace for his small size. Karen watches, admiring his enthusiasm despite her skepticism of his culinary skills. "Careful with that pan!" she calls out, noticing the way he flips it in the air. But it's too late. The pan slips from his grip, and as it hits his head with a deafening clang, Plankton crumples to the floor, out cold. Karen sprints to the kitchen and crouches beside her unconscious husband. "Plankton! Wake up!" she says, shaking him gently. His eye remains closed. She notices his pulse and breathing so at least he's alive. She scans him and the results show he acquired Autism. She's heard about it, how interactions with others are hard and how sensory shutdown can cause episodes similar to a seizure. Panic starts to set in. She has to get him to the couch. With a deep breath, she hoists his limp body over her shoulder and carries him carefully to the couch. She lays him down, his head resting on a pillow she grabbed on the way. Karen's attention is solely on Plankton. She strokes his forehead, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady beat of his pulse beneath her fingertips. The house feels too quiet, the air thick with concern. Her eyes dart around the room, looking for anything that might help him feel comfortable. Karen starts to hum a lullaby, hoping the tune might calmly wake him. Only the next afternoon does Plankton start to wake. His eye began to flutter open. "What happened?" he mumbles. Karen smiles, relieved. "You had a bad fall in the kitchen. Do you remember anything?" Plankton's eye widens as his hand shoots to the spot on his head where the pan had hit. "Oh, cooking, right?" His voice is groggy, his memory foggy. "Yes, but let's not worry about that now," Karen says, squeezing his hand. She notices his confusion, the way his gaze flits around the room, searching for clues. "You acquired Autism." Plankton blinks a few times, taking in the soft light and the worried face of his wife. He tries to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washes over him. "Autism?" he repeats, the word foreign on his tongue. Karen nods gently. "It's ok, Plankton," she says, her voice soothing. The revelation hangs heavily in the air between them. Plankton's mind races. The room seems to spin as he tries to process the news. Rocking back and forth, he starts to self-soothe, a common behavior among those with autism when overwhelmed. Karen, who has read about this, understands it's his brain's way of coping with the onslaught of new information and sensations. "It's ok," she whispers, her voice steady. "You can stim however you need to." Her words act like a key unlocking a door. Plankton's hands begin to flap, and he lets out a soft hum, a melody that fills the silent room. "It's ok," she says softly, "Stim if it helps." The rhythmic motion and soothing sound of Karen's voice help to calm him down. He stops flapping, but the hum continues, a gentle echo in the quiet. Plankton's eye locks onto hers, searching for comfort. "I'm here," she says, her tone a gentle reassurance. Suddenly, his eye lit up as he repeats her words, "You're here," his voice a mirror of hers. It's echolalic, a common trait in those with autism, where they repeat sounds or phrases. "You're here," he repeats, over and over, the phrase becoming a comforting mantra. His palilalic speech is a bridge between the overwhelming confusion and the familiar presence of his wife. Karen nods. She's read that palilalic repetition can be soothing for those with autism. "You're here," Plankton says again, his voice growing stronger with each repetition. The words become a rhythm, a heartbeat of reassurance that he clings to as the world swims into focus. Plankton's eye refocus on Karen's screen, and a tiny smile appears as he understands her acceptance. He starts to rock more comfortably, matching the rhythm of his humming. The house feels like a sanctuary, a bubble wrapped around them, their shared breaths the only sound. Karen's eyes well up with tears, but she holds them back, not wanting to interrupt this moment. His humming gradually fades into silence, and he looks at Karen. "We'll figure it out," she says firmly, her voice a lifeline in the stormy sea of uncertainty. "We'll learn about Autism and adjust our lives. You're not alone in this, Plankton." Her words seem to anchor him. He takes a deep breath, and his body relaxes against the couch cushions. "Thank Karen," he whispers, his voice cracking. Karen nods, blinking away her own unshed tears. "We're going to be okay," she says, more to convince herself than anything. Plankton's smile grows a little wider, and his hand reaches for hers. "What's next?" he asks, his voice still weak but steady. Karen rises from the floor and moves to the bookshelf. Her fingers trace the spines, landing on a worn-out book titled "The Art of Cooking." She pulls it out gently and holds it out to him. Plankton's eye lights up at the familiar sight. It's his favorite book, filled with recipes and notes he's collected over the years. He takes it with trembling hands, feeling the weight of the pages. "Let's start slow," Karen suggests, sitting beside him on the couch. "We'll go through the book together, and maybe we'll find something simple for tomorrow's dinner." Plankton nods, flipping through the pages with newfound carefulness. "How about we start with spaghetti?" Karen offers, pointing to a simple illustration on the page. It's a dish they've made together countless times. "Spaghetti," he repeats, the word like a warm blanket around his new reality. "How about we start with spaghetti.." They spend the rest of the day going through the book, discussing ingredients and steps, Karen explaining things in a way that's easy for Plankton to understand. His focus intensifies, his eye lighting up with every new piece of information. The kitchen accident seems like a distant memory, replaced by the comforting familiarity of cooking.

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 10 (Autistic author) After a silence so profound it seems to have its own heartbeat, Plankton's antennae twitch, breaking the stillness. "Time to...do." Plankton whispers to himself, still in Karen's arms. Sandy looks up. "Plankton?" She whispers, hope flickering in her eyes. "What's he..." But Karen shakes her head, silencing her. "He'll come around," she says, explaining his behavior. "He's just...it's okay for him to talk to himself. It can mean he's starting to come back." Plankton starts up again. "Time to...do," he murmurs, his antennae flicking erratically. "Time to...time to...get, time to...do." Karen's grip on him tightens, her heart racing as his words loop like a broken record. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers, her voice a lifeline in the tempest of his thoughts. "You don't have to do anything right now." She strokes his arm, her touch gentle. "We're right here." The words sink into his consciousness like a pebble dropped into a still pond, ripples of understanding spreading through the murky waters of his mind. His antennae still for a moment, then begin to move again, slightly. "No do," he murmurs, his voice still flat, his gaze unchanged. "Just be." Karen nods, her eyes never leaving his. "You just be, my love," she whispers, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "You can just keep talking to me, or to yourself." Her words are a gentle reminder that he's not alone, his anchor in the storm. Plankton's body relaxes slightly, his breathing evening out. Plankton's eye flickers. His eye moves, focusing on her face. "Karen," he whispers, his voice a mere breath. "Karen, here." Her heart soars. "I'm right here, sweetheart," she says, her voice a soft caress. "You're okay." Plankton's gaze lingers on her face, his expression unreadable. "Karen," he repeats, his voice gaining strength. "Karen." Slowly, the world around them starts to come back into focus. The ticking of the clock is a steady beat once more, the wallpaper's pattern a gentle dance of color and light. Plankton blinks. "Where's now?" "You're home," Karen says soothingly, her voice a beacon of calm amidst his confusion. "You're safe on the couch." Sandy comes into his view now. "Sandy," Plankton says, his voice still flat, his antennae barely moving. "Sorry." Sandy's eyes widen in surprise. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice cracking. Karen nods, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening slightly. "We're both here," she says, her voice a lifeline in the sea of confusion. Sandy moves slowly, keeping her movements small and deliberate, not wanting to trigger another wave of panic. "Plankton," she says softly, her voice careful. "Is it ok if I sit next to you?" He nods, his antennae twitching slightly. The world is still too loud, too bright, too much for him to handle. But Karen's presence, her gentle touch, makes it more bearable. Sandy sits on the couch, a respectful distance away, watching the two of them with a mix of compassion and regret as Karen helps him sit up. Sandy's curiosity burns, questions bubbling up inside her like a shaken soda can. She wants to know more about this new version of Plankton. "What happened to you, Plankton?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen sighs, her eyes sad. "It's called acquired autism syndrome," Karen explains, her voice measured. Sandy's eyes widen, trying to digest this new information. "But, how?" she asks, her curiosity overriding the sadness. "It's complicated," Karen says, her voice weary. "But it's part of who he is now." Sandy nods, trying to understand. "When you started shaking Plankton, what'd you feel?" Plankton's gaze flickers to the wall, his mind still trying to piece together the shattered remnants of his recent experience. "Scared," he admits, his voice still strained. "Too much." Sandy nods, her own understanding of the world shifting. "But what about your surroundings? Where you conscious?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Conscious, but not...not here." His words are like a puzzle, each one placed with care. Sandy nods, her eyes studying him with newfound respect. "So could you hear us or?" "Hear, but not understand," Plankton says, his voice still a whisper. Sandy nods, her curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" she asks, her eyes searching his for a clue to this new puzzle. "Words," Plankton whispers, his antennae barely moving. "Sounds, but not words. Just voice." Karen's grip on his hand tightens, her heart aching for his pain. Sandy nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It's okay," she says, her voice gentle. "We're learning together." Karen's gaze shifts to Sandy, her eyes expressing gratitude. "Yes," she agrees. "We're all just trying to understand. It's new for us, too." Sandy nods, her curiosity now tempered with compassion. She watches Plankton closely, his every movement, his every word, a testament to his struggle. "Can I ask how acquired autism..." "Sandy," Karen says gently, interrupting her friend. "Let's not push him." Sandy nods, her expression full of concern. "I just want to know how it happened." Karen's sigh is a soft whisper in the room. "It was a brain injury" she says, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "He fell, hitting his head and the impact knocked him out, hard enough to cause some serious damage." Sandy nods, her mind racing. "But how did it turn him...different?" she asks, her voice filled with a mix of confusion and concern. Karen's eyes well up with tears, the pain of the memory still fresh. "It happened yesterday. He's the same Plankton we know, but his perception of the world, his ability to communicate...it's all changed." Sandy's eyes are glued to Plankton, her curiosity melding with a deep sadness. "But how can I help?" she asks, her voice a whisper. "I don't know anything about this." Karen looks at her with a tiny smile, her screen filled with gratitude. "Just be his friend," she says, her voice firm. "Love and patience, that's what he needs." Sandy nods, her eyes flicking to Plankton, who sits with his gaze on the wall. "I want to," she says, her voice sincere. "But how do I do that without...you know?" Karen understands her dilemma. "Just be there," she says, her voice calm. "Learn his patterns, his triggers. It'll take time, but he'll come to trust you." Sandy nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "But what about when he gets upset?" "It's hard," Karen admits, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "We're still figuring it out." Sandy nods, her mind racing with a barrage of questions. But she swallows them down, not wanting to overwhelm Plankton or Karen. Instead, she focuses on the present. "So, Plankton, how do you feel?" Sandy says, her voice soft. "What do you wanna do right now?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "Right now, Plankton feeling... awkward," he murmurs, his voice devoid of its usual inflection. Sandy nods, trying to hide the shock from her face. "Okay, Plankton," she says slowly, her voice gentle. "What do you need?" He looks at her with a flicker of something resembling hope in his glassy eye. "Plankton would now like to just go to be in own room." Sandy nods eagerly, desperate to do anything that would bring him comfort. "Of course," she says, her voice gentle. "I'll help you." But as she moves to assist him, Plankton flinches away, his antennae twitching in agitation. "No," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Too much." Karen understands his need to retreat into the bedroom. "Okay," Karen says, her voice calm. "Let's go." She helps Plankton to his feet, his body still rigid with stress. Sandy watches, feeling like an outsider. She follows behind, stopping at the bedroom doorway. Karen sets some books and pencils on the table by his bed, along with a kiss. "You can change the light with the lamp," she says, gesturing to the lamp on the bedside table next to his charging phone. He nods.

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 11 (Autistic author) Plankton moves slowly to the bed, his eye fixed on the lamp. His movements are deliberate, his body still tense from the recent meltdown. Sandy watches, her heart in her throat, as he fiddles with the lamp, adjusting the brightness until it's just right, a soft glow that doesn't assault his senses. "Thanks," Plankton says, his voice still flat, but with a hint of genuine appreciation. Sandy's mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. She wants to help, to ease his pain, but she doesn't know how. "Can I do anything else?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen looks up at her, her eyes tired but filled with gratitude. "Just give him some space," she says, gently. "Let him adjust." They exit his room. Sandy and Karen talk about other things for a bit before Karen decides to check on Plankton, Sandy following her. They find Plankton curled up in the center of the bed, his body wrapped tightly in the blanket Karen had used to soothe his meltdown. His antennae remain still, his eye closed. The room is quiet, the only sound his slight snores. "He's asleep," Karen whispers, her voice a soothing balm to the tense air. Sandy nods, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall beneath the blanket. His snores are soft, a stark contrast to the silence that had filled the room just minutes before. Karen smiles softly, relief washing over her. "This is his safe place," she whispers to Sandy, her voice filled with a quiet pride. "His retreat when the world gets too much." Sandy nods, her eyes studying the sleeping Plankton with a newfound compassion. She's seen his fiery spirit, his sharp mind, and now she's witnessing his vulnerability. The room is bathed in a soft, warm light, the kind that makes you want to curl up with a good book. Plankton's snores are the only sound, a gentle reminder that he's still fighting, still with them. Karen watches him sleep, his face serene in slumber. The harsh edges of his autism softened by the oblivion of sleep. His body, usually so tense, is relaxed, the tapestry of the blanket a gentle wave that cradles him. Sandy steps closer to the bed, her heart aching for her friend. The Plankton she knew was a whirlwind of chaos and cunning, but this Plankton is a puzzle of patterns and sensitivity. She reaches out a tentative hand, brushing his antennae gently. They twitch under her touch, a silent acknowledgment of her presence. "I'm here," she whispers, her voice a soft promise. "I'll learn with you." Karen smiles, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Thank you," she says, her voice a whisper. "He needs friends now more than ever." Sandy nods, her mind racing with the gravity of the situation. She's seen Plankton's fiery spirit, his sharp mind, but this vulnerable side is new, unexpected, and it breaks her heart. She pulls back her hand, not wanting to disturb his sleep. Karen moves to the chair beside the bed, sitting down with a sigh. "It's going to be a long road," she says, her voice filled with both fear and determination. "But we'll figure it out together." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "We're all here for you," she says, her voice firm. "We'll get through this." Karen's smile is grateful. "Thank you, Sandy."

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

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 12 (Autistic author) They sit in companionable silence, the only sound Plankton's soft snores. Karen's eyes never leave his face, her thoughts a tumult of fear and hope. Sandy watches them both, her mind racing with questions and concerns. "What does this mean for him?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "It means his world is different now," Karen explains, her screen never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "He'll have his moments, but we'll find a new normal." Sandy nods, trying to picture what that would look like. "But can he still...you know, talk, interact?" "It's not like that," Karen sighs, her voice a soothing lullaby. "He's not nonverbal. It's just that sometimes his brain can't keep up with the world around him. The sounds, the lights, the colors—it's too much." Sandy nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "I can see that," she says thoughtfully. "But he'll still be the same person, right?" Karen looks at her, her expression a mix of sorrow and hope. "He'll always be Plankton," she says, her voice firm. "But his autism has changed the way he experiences life. He'll see patterns where we see chaos, hear symphonies where we only hear noise." Sandy nods, trying to wrap her head around the concept. "What about his memories?" she asks, her voice tentative. "Does he still remember us, his life before?" Karen looks at her softly. "Yes," she says, her voice filled with reassurance. "But his short-term memory might be affected." Sandy nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "How long will it take for him to...to get better?" she asks, her voice hopeful. Karen's gaze falls to her hands, clutched in her lap. "There isn't a cure," she says, her voice a whisper. "But we can help him manage, make his life more comfortable." Sandy's eyes are glassy with unshed tears. "What can I do?" she asks, her voice desperate. "What can any of us do?" Karen takes a deep breath. "You can learn with us," she says, her voice strong. "You can support him, love him, be patient." Sandy nods, her eyes filled with a newfound resolve. "I want to help," she says, her voice steady. "But what about his plans, his schemes?" Karen looks at her, her expression a mix of sorrow and a ghost of a smile. "Those might have to take a backseat for a while. His mind has to heal." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "I can handle that," she says, her voice filled with determination. "But what about the Krabby Patty formula?" Karen looks at her, her expression a mix of understanding and sorrow. "We'll have to see," she says, her voice soft. "For now, let's focus on getting him comfortable, okay?" Sandy nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "Okay," she whispers, her voice full of resolve. "We'll figure it out." Karen nods, her smile small but genuine. "Thank you," she says, her voice filled with gratitude. "It's going to be a tough adjustment for all of us." Sandy nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "We'll make it work," she says, her voice firm. "But what happens if he has another...episode?" Karen sighs, her screen slightly glazed with fear. "We just have to be there," she says, her voice shaky. "We'll learn his triggers, his comforts." Sandy nods, her mind racing with concern. "But what if it's in public?" "We'll handle it," Karen interrupts, her tone firm. "We'll have strategies, routines. It won't be easy, but we'll manage." Sandy sniffles, her voice now a sob. "What if he..." But Karen cuts her off, her eyes on Plankton, who's started to stir in his sleep. His antennae twitches, his body shifting under the covers. Slowly, Plankton's eye opens, his gaze unfocused. The room is a blur of patterns and colors, but Karen's voice is a steady beat in the cacophony. "Hey, sweetheart," she whispers, her hand brushing his cheek gently. "You're okay." Plankton's antennae twitch sluggishly, his body unwinding from the tight coil of sleep. "Home," he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. Karen's eyes are on him, a silent vigil against the chaos of his mind. "You're safe," she whispers, her voice the calm to his storm. "You're home with me." Plankton's gaze sharpens slightly, his antennae moving in tiny, precise patterns. "Karen," he whispers, his voice like a distant echo. Karen leans in closer, her heart racing. "Yes, love?" she asks, her voice soothing. Plankton's antennae wave in the air, as if trying to capture the right words. "Need...Karen," he whispers, his eye searching hers. Karen nods, her smile gentle. "I'm here," she says, her voice a warm embrace. "Always." Plankton's antennae cease their frantic movements, then he notices Sandy. "Hi, Plankton," Sandy whispers, her voice soft.

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▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 ⚬

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

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COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 7 (Neurodivergent author) Hanna's pixel eyes fill with tears, her hand hovering over her mouth in shock. "Oh, Plankton," she says, her voice trembling like a leaf. The room is a frozen tableau, everyone at a loss for words. But Karen is unflappable. Her eyes dart around the room, assessing, planning. "It's ok," she repeats, her voice a steady beacon. "Let's just move aside, give him some space." They retreat to the couch, the cushions swallowing them like a sea anemone. Plankton's body is a ragdoll in her arms, his antennae limp with exhaustion. Karen keeps her screen calm, a bastion of serenity. "I'm sorry," Plankton whispers, his voice a ghost in the silence. "It's ok," Karen reassures him, her voice a gentle caress. "You don't have to apologize." She rubs his back as he leans on her shoulder, tired out. The room feels smaller now, the air thick with the weight of new understanding. Hanna's friends are finishing up dinner still in the kitchen. Karen knows they mean well, but their energy is a stark contrast to the quiet Plankton needs. Her hand on his back, Karen guides his breathing, her voice a lullaby against the storm of the evening. "Breathe in," she whispers, "and out." Her touch is a gentle tide, washing over him, soothing his frayed nerves. His body relaxes, his antennae dropping like tired leaves to her shoulder. The room is a sanctuary again, the chaos outside forgotten as they find solace in their quiet corner. "You're safe," she murmurs. "I've got you." Karen's hand moves in gentle circles, a comforting rhythm that Plankton's body craves. His antennae droop, his breathing evening out as he nestles closer. The couch is a life raft in the tumultuous sea of Hanna's house, and Plankton clings to her like a drowning sailor to a rope. His tiny body, once a taut bowstring, now relaxes into the embrace of sleep. Karen feels the weight of his head, a trust so profound it's like an anchor in the storm. His antennae droop, no longer the frantic sails of a ship in distress. She adjusts her position, shifting slightly to support him better, her arm a gentle cradle. The room's sounds become distant whispers, the waves of conversation fading into the background. Plankton's breathing slows. Karen watches him sleep, his antennae twitching slightly with each snore as his mouth slackens open. Patricia comes in the living room to check on them. "How's he doin’?" she asks, her voice a hushed whisper. Karen glances up, a soft smile playing on her lips. "He's ok," she says, her voice a gentle wave. "Just exhausted." Patricia nods, her face a portrait of concern. "What can I do to help?" she asks, her eyes searching for a way to ease the burden. Karen looks at her, the question a beacon in the fog. "Just...give us a little more time," she says, her voice a soft shush. "Let him rest." Patricia nods, retreating quietly to the kitchen, the clack of her heels a mournful tune on the hardwood floor. The couch is their sanctuary, their quiet island in the sea of Hanna's home. Karen's arm is a makeshift cradle for Plankton's head, his antennae brushing against her neck. The weight of his body is a silent testament to his trust in her, and she holds it with the care of a pearl diver handling the most delicate of treasures. The room is a canvas of shadows, the candles now mere embers in the distance. Plankton's snores are the rhythm of their solace, each breath a testament to the resilience that lies within him. Karen's thoughts drift like seaweed in the tide of her concerns. What will tomorrow bring? How can she shield him from the storms of misunderstanding? But in this moment, she focuses on the present, her eyes tracing the lines of his sleeping form. Plankton's antennae have stopped twitching, his body at peace in her embrace. The soft snores, a symphony of security, fill the quiet space between them. The house has quieted down, the dinner party's echoes a distant memory. Hanna and her friends have retreated to the kitchen, their whispers like the gentle lapping of waves. Plankton is a bundle of quiet energy in her arms, his antennae twitching in his sleep. Karen can feel the steady throb of his heart, a lullaby that matches his breathing. She strokes his back in a comforting rhythm, his body a warm, comforting weight against her. The candles have burned down to nubs, the room bathed in a soft glow. His antennae rest against her neck, a silent communication of trust. Her eyes trace the contours of his sleeping form, his body a puzzle she's come to understand. The quiet whispers of the kitchen are a comforting backdrop to the symphony of his snores. Karen's hand moves in gentle circles on his back, each motion a declaration of support. The room's shadows dance around them, a ballet of understanding, a rhythm that's become their own. Plankton's antennae are limp, his body a testament to his exhaustion. The couch is their sanctuary in a sea of uncertainty. Her arm is a mooring, holding him steady in the tumult of his own mind. His breathing is a metronome, a soothing rhythm. With each inhale and exhale, she feels the tension in his body melt away, his snores a comforting reminder that he's safe. Her eyes trace the soft lines of his face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The room is a symphony of silence, the couch their tiny boat adrift in the vast ocean of Hanna's house. Plankton's antennae, once a flurry of nervous energy, now hang limply. Karen's eyes are the moon, watching over him as he slumbers, his trust in her a glowing beacon in the dark. Her hand, a gentle tide, strokes his back, each caress a reminder of her steadfast support. His snores are the lullaby of the sea, each breath a testament to his newfound peace.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 5 (Neurodivergent author) Karen returns to the bedroom, where Plankton is already snoring softly. She pulls the covers up to his chin, tucking in gently. She sits in the chair beside his bed, never leaving his peaceful form. His chest rises and falls in the steady rhythm of sleep, each breath a testament to his resilience. Karen watches him, her mind racing with thoughts of what the future holds, the challenges they'll face together. But for now, she forces herself to be still. Plankton's antennae twitch in his sleep, as if he's navigating the vast underwater world of his dreams. Karen watches him, full of a love she didn't know existed. The soft snores from Plankton's tiny form are music to her. In his sleep, the weight of the world is lifted, his mind free to explore the vast depths of his underwater universe without fear. Her gaze lingers on the soft lines of his face, the tension erased by the gentle embrace of slumber. She smiles, her eyes filling with tears. The room is a sanctuary, a bubble of quiet amidst the storm of confusion and fear. The shadows play across the wall, telling silent stories of adventures that await when he wakes. Karen reclines in the chair, her hand resting gently on his arm. The nap stretches into an hour, then two, the house a cocoon of peace around them. Plankton's body relaxes into the embrace of the bed, his mind swimming through a sea of tranquility. Karen sits by his side, her hand still resting on his arm. She thinks of the Plankton she knew before, his quirks and routines now painted with the brushstroke of understanding. Autism isn't a label to shrink from, but a part of him to be embraced, a piece of the intricate tapestry that makes him who he is. In his sleep, Plankton starts to murmur, his words a jumble of half-thoughts. Karen leans closer, trying to make sense of the words. "...I...Karen...love." Her hand squeezes his arm gently, her thumb tracing circles on his skin. "I love you too, Plankton," she whispers back, her voice a soft lullaby. Plankton's sleep-talk starts up again. "...so many stars," his voice murmurs, his antennae twitching with the vividness of his dream. Karen smiles, imagining the vast cosmos that must exist in his mind. Her hand continues its gentle caress, her hand stroking his antennae in a calming pattern. "Shh, Plankton, it's just a dream," she soothes. His snoring starts again, a soft, rhythmic sound that fills the quiet. She smiles, her eyes still on his peaceful form. The world outside their sanctuary seems to fade away, its worries and noises muted by the wall of their understanding. Plankton's autism is a challenge, but it's also a bridge that's brought them closer, a shared secret that only the two of them understand. As Plankton sleeps, Karen's phone vibrates with a text from her friend, Hanna. "Dinner tonite?" Her thumb hovers over the keyboard, debating. Plankton's diagnosis is still fresh, the memory of his seizure a stark reminder of the fragility of his newly understood world. But she knows the importance of keeping up appearances, of not letting fear or pity define them. With a sigh, she texts back, "We'd love to. Your place." The evening stretches before them like a tightrope, a delicate balance between Plankton's needs and the social norms that often feel like a prison for him. Karen's mind whirs with strategies to make it work. A quiet place, familiar faces, a set schedule. These are the keys to a successful outing. Gently, she shakes him awake, her touch as light as a seashell on the shore. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye fluttering open. He looks up at her with sleepy confusion, the world still a blur. "Dinner with Hanna," she says, keeping her voice low and soothing. He nods, his body already tensing in anticipation of the sensory bombardment to come. The car ride is a symphony of preparation, the engine's hum a soothing background to their silent conversation. Karen's eyes are on the road, but her mind is on Plankton, his hands fidgeting in his lap. She knows the world outside is a minefield of sounds and sensations, so she keeps the radio off and the windows up, creating a bubble of quiet around them. Plankton's breathing is shallow, his antennae twitching with each passing car. Karen reaches over to squeeze his hand, a silent reminder that she's there. He looks at her, his eye filled with a mix of fear and gratitude. She smiles, the warmth of her gaze a lifeline in the chaos. "We're almost there," she says, her voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore. They arrive at Hanna's house, a beacon of light in the deep blue sea of the night. The door opens, revealing a whirlwind of laughter and chatter, the smell of garlic bread and seafood stew wafting out. Karen takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the evening ahead. Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye wide at the unfiltered stimulation. Hanna, oblivious to their new dynamic, waves them in with a cheerful smile. "You're just in time!" she exclaims, her voice a trumpet in the quietude of Plankton's mind. Karen's hand tightens around his, a silent reassurance as the door closes, the sound a thunderclap in his ears. The house is a cacophony of sounds and smells, a whirlpool of sensory information threatening to pull him under. He gulps, his breathing shallow, his body braced for the inevitable. Hanna, their friend, is a whirlwind of energy, her eyes sparkling like the ocean's surface. She doesn't notice the tension in Plankton's body, the way he flinches at her excited exclamations. She doesn't see the way his antennae twitch, his mind racing to keep up. But Karen does. She's his lifeline in this tumultuous sea of social interactions. She nods, smiling, as Hanna leads them to the dinner table, her hand squeezing Plankton's in silent support. The room is a kaleidoscope of colors, the clatter of silverware and laughter a symphony of overwhelming sound. Karen's eyes dance over the room, noting each potential trigger. "Hey, ladies; meet Karen and Plankton!" Hanna's enthusiastic introduction was like a tidal wave crashing over the quiet bubble they'd been in. Plankton flinched, his antennae retreating like snails into their shells. Karen offered a forced smile, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an anchor. The dinner table was set with a rainbow of plates and bowls, the smell of garlic bread and seafood stew overwhelming. Hanna's home was a sensory minefield, but Karen was determined to navigate it with grace. Plankton's hand was cold in hers, a silent plea for rescue. As they sit, Karen scans the table, noticing the flickering candles, the glint of silverware, and the clinking of glasses. Each detail a potential trigger. She whispers into Plankton's ear, "Remember, if you need to, just tell me." He nods, his antennae tucking closer to his head.

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

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 2 (Neurodivergent author) By evening, Karen has set up a makeshift kitchen area in the living room, with all the ingredients for spaghetti arranged neatly on the coffee table. Plankton sits cross-legged on the floor, his eye never leaving the recipe book. He reads each step aloud, his voice growing stronger with confidence. Karen chops vegetables nearby, noticing the subtle changes in his movements, the way he tilts his head when he's concentrating. The smell of garlic and onions sizzling in olive oil fills the room. Plankton stirs the pot, his face scrunching up slightly at the aroma, a sign his sensory sensitivity has heightened. She sees him rub his hands together, a self-stimulatory behavior, but she knows it's his way of grounding himself amidst the chaos. They move around the makeshift kitchen, a silent dance of understanding and support. Karen boils the water for the spaghetti while Plankton continues to sauté the veggies. Each action is deliberate, each step measured as they navigate their new reality. The water reaches a rolling boil, and Plankton carefully drops in the spaghetti strands, his gaze transfixed by the swirling water. Karen watches his concentration and sees the childlike wonder in his eye. "How long?" he asks. "Five minutes," Karen says, her voice calm. She's read that clear and concise instructions can be helpful. After five minutes, Plankton quickly drains the spaghetti, his movements precise and methodical. He pours the sauce over the noodles and mixes them gently, his focus intense. Karen watches him, a mix of admiration and concern. "It's done," he announces, his voice a mix of excitement and apprehension. She brings over two plates, setting them on the coffee table. They sit across from each other, the steaming spaghetti a bridge between them. Plankton's hand hovers over his plate, unsure of how to proceed with the new sensory experience. "Let's eat," Karen says with a smile, picking up her fork and twirling the noodles expertly. The sound of her silverware against the plate makes him flinch, but he mimics her movements. They eat in silence, the clinking of forks and spoons the only sounds in the room. Plankton chews slowly, savoring each bite, his face a canvas of emotions. Karen watches him, her own fork poised in midair. As they finish dinner, Plankton sets his plate aside and looks at her, his expression earnest. "Thank you, Karen," he says, his voice clear. "For being here Karen." Her eyes brim with tears, but she blinks them back. "Always, Plankton. I'll always be here. Now it's getting late; let's go to bed.." In bed, she reads to him, his favorite childhood story, the words acting as a lullaby. Plankton's hand rests on her arm, his thumb rubbing circles in a self-soothing gesture. His breathing steadies, matching the rhythm of her voice. The book's final page is turned, and she switches off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The silence is filled with the comforting hum of the fan above. Karen lies beside Plankton, his body rigid with tension. Her arm wraps around him, pulling him closer, and she feels his muscles slowly relax. "Goodnight, Plankton," she whispers, kissing his forehead. He doesn't respond, lost in his thoughts. But she knows he heard her. Karen notices the tension in his body and gently runs her fingers through his antennae, a silent offer of comfort. Eventually, his breathing evens out, and he falls asleep, his body curled into hers like a child seeking shelter. The next morning, the sun streams through the blinds, casting stripes across the bed. Karen, already awake, watches him, her hand still entwined with his. He's still asleep, his body relaxed, the lines of worry from the day before smoothed out by the embrace of slumber. Carefully, she slides out of bed, not wanting to disturb him. She sees him stir in his sleep, his antennae twitching slightly, but he remains unaware of her departure. In the kitchen, Karen starts the coffee, the scent filling the room with a comforting aroma. She opens the fridge, finding the ingredients for the morning routine. Plankton's usual breakfast is a simple one: toast with jam and a banana. The toaster pops, and she spreads the jam with a gentle smoothness that Plankton likes. The banana peels easily, revealing the perfect yellow fruit inside. Her mind races with thoughts of how she'll need to learn his new sensitivities, his likes and dislikes, his triggers. But for now, she focuses on the task at hand, placing the slices of bread in the toaster. When the toast is just right, she carries the breakfast tray to the bedroom, her steps soft against the cold floor. Plankton's still asleep, his snores punctuating the quiet morning. Karen sets the tray on the bedside table. She watches him, unsure how to wake him without causing distress. She's read about sensory sensitivity and knows that sudden noise can be jarring for someone with Autism. She gently strokes his antennae, her touch featherlight, and whispers his name, "Plankton, wake up." He stirs, his antennae twitching, but his eye remains closed. Karen tries again, a little louder this time, "Wake up, sweetie. Breakfast is ready." Plankton's hand shoots up to cover his eye, a reflexive reaction to the light. His body tenses, then relaxes as his mind adjusts to the new day. He sits up slowly. "Thank you, Karen," he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. He takes in the breakfast spread before him, his antennae twitching with anticipation. He picks up the toast, feeling the warmth in his hands, the stickiness of the jam a familiar comfort. Karen watches him closely, noticing the way his eye widens slightly at the first bite, the way his tongue flicks out to taste the banana. It's as if every sensation is amplified, a symphony of flavors and textures that she can't begin to understand. She sips her coffee, silent, giving him space. As he eats, Plankton starts to hum again, his body rocking slightly. It's a low, comforting sound that fills the room. Karen feels the tension in her shoulders ease. This is their new normal, a dance of care and understanding.

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

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

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.

"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.

ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᴾᵁ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ @ALYJACI ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ!" @ALYJACI

ᴮᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵀᵉˣᵃˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐⁱˢʰᵃᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢ ᵒʳ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵒᵇˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ!" ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵉᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉˡʸ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᶜᵃⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ 'ᵉᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍʰ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁿᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ⸴ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳⁱᵉᶠ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢʰᵉ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒᵗ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ 'ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ' ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵇʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ᵐᵃʳᵏᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ "ᴾᵒᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵉᶠᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ‧" "ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ; ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰᵒʷ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳⁱᵉᶠ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ‧

"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."

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.

ᔆʰᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵈ ⁿᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʳᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ‧ ᵁˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃʸ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵘⁿⁿᵉʳᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍʳⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒˢˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ‧‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿⁱᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ⸴ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ! "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵉⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵃʷˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵈʳᵉˢˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵃ ⁿᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!" "ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵃˢᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵉᵖʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ‧ "ᴳᵃʳʸ⸴ ʰᵉʸ; ᵈᵃᵈᵈʸ'ˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ! ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧" ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᴼʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᴳᵃʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧ ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵉᵗ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᶠᵃⁿᶜⁱᵉᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵒᵗʰ‧ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ ʳⁱˢᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴺᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍʳⁱⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᔆᵒ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˡᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ⸴ ᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒʳ ⁱᶠ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜʰⁱˡˡᵃˣ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᵉᵏ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˢᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᶻ'ˢ‧‧" "ᴬʰ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵉⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵈᵉᵐⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᵇʳⁱˡˡⁱᵃⁿᵗ ᵍᵉⁿⁱᵘˢ! ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵘˢʸ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ˢʰᵉ 'ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᵈᵉᵈ' ʸᵉᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃᵗʰ‧‧

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."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠿⣟⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣏⡏⠀⠀⠀⢣⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⠧⠤⠤⠔⠋⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡀⢀⣶⠤⠒⠀⢻⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢿⢿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠘⣿⠋⠁⠀⠙⢇⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢇⡞⠘⣧⠀⢖⡭⠞⢛⡄⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣿⣛⣥⠤⠤⢿⡄⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⡟⡱⠛⠙⠀⠀⠘⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀ ⢸⡏⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡀ ⠸⣧⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇ ⠀⣿⡄⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠆⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠀ ⠀⢹⡇⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⣼⡟⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡇⠀⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢳⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠸⣧⣀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠀⢀⣴⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠙⢷⣄⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣷⣦⣄⣀⣀⣠⣤⠾⠷⣦⣤⣤⡶⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵛⁱʳᵘˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ “ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵗⁱʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵘᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᴵ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢⁿᵃᵖ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ’ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ’ˢ ᵐᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ʳᵉᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵃˢ, ᵒⁿ ᵒᶜᶜᵃˢⁱᵒⁿ, ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ, ᵃˡᵇᵉⁱᵗ ᵃᵇˢᵉⁿᵗᵐⁱⁿᵈᵉᵈˡʸ‧ “ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵃʳᵉⁿ’ᵗ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘˢᵗⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘˢʸ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒʲᵉᶜᵗ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧‧” ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ…” ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ “ᴵᶠ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ…” ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡᵉᵈ ᵘʳᵍᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ‧ “ᴵ’ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ “ᴰᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵃᵇˡᵉ!” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ, ᵃˢ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ “ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒᵘʳ ʷᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿⁿⁱᵛᵉʳˢᵃʳʸ‧” “ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ; ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!” ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱˣ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃᵗ‧ ᴬˢ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ “ᴴⁱ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ˢʰᵉ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ “ᔆᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵘᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ?” “ᴺᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷᵃʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵃʳᵏ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵛⁱʳᵘˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ; ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ…” “ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ, ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ “ᴹᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧” “ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ!” “ᴴᵒʷ’ˢ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ?” ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᵂʰᵃᵗ’ᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ…” ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧

ᶠᵒʳ ᴴᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵀʳᵘᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 3 4 2 ⟩ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴼʷ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜʳᵃᵈˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁿᵉᵉ ᵃˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵒᵗʸᵖᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ‧" ᴰᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ "ᴼᵘᶜʰ‧" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ⁱᵗ‧" ᵀʰᵉⁱʳ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜᵃˢᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃⁿᶜᵉˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵖᵒⁿᵉ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵖʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉˡˡʸ ʳᵘᵇˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ ʰᵒʷ ⁱˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ; ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵍᵘʸ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵈʳⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ 'ᵉᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᑫᵘⁱʳʳᵉˡ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ‧‧" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴬˡˢᵒ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ'ˢ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ ᶜᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ 'ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ' ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʰᵘᵈᵈˡᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒᵏᵉ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧"

ᴴᵉʳ ᔆᶜᵃʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴼʰ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴴᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ‧‧” “ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ, ˢᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵉᶠᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ “ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ‘ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ’ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵐᵖˡʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ “ᴼʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ⁿᵒ, ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ! ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ, ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᵗ ᶠᵃˢᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡᵃᵇ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘˢᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿᵗⁱᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉʳʸ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈˡʸ‧ “ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ⁱᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ “ᵂᵃ, ʷʰᵉʳᵉ…” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵒʰ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧”

⟡ pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

ᴳᵉᵗ ᵁᵖ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ, ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ?" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵘᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧‧”𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐧.

ᔆʰᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᵁˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʳᵒᵖᵉ, ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ˡᵃᵈᵈᵉʳ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠⁱˣᵗᵘʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵈᵉˡⁱᵉʳ’ˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈʳᵒᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ, ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ, ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᵇʳⁱˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴼʰ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴴᵘʰ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ‘ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ? ᵂᵃⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱˣᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ⁱᵗ, ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ?’ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ, ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ “ᵁᵍʰ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ “ᔆᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐˢ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵐᵃˢʰ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴳᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ‧” “ᴱˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ‧” ᔆᵃʸˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵘᵍʰᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ‧ ᴸᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ…” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ…” “ʸᵉˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉ ᵃˢˢᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵇᵃᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉⁿᵉᶠⁱᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵛⁱᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᵖᵉᵉᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧” “ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ’ᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵃˡ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ‧” ᴺᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢʳᵘᵖᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵃᵖ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵃᵖˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ, ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ “ᔆᵒʳʳʸ, ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧” ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʳᵒᵘᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧” ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ “ᴼʰ, ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧” “ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ‧‧” “ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧” “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧” ᔆʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒʷ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ, ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠ ˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ, ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵉᶠʳᵉˢʰᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ‧ ᴬˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ‧ “ᴼʰ ʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧ ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ…” “ᴵ’ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧” “ᴼʰ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧” “ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ?” “ᴵ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ, ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧ “ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢⁱᵗ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ, ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ’ᵈ ʰᵘᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵍᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶜᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ’ᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ, ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ, ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵉᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ‧ ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟳𝟮𝟯

ᴳᵉᵗ ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ “…ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ…” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ, ʰᵘᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵗᵘⁿᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ⁱᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧” 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟓𝟎 𝐬𝐞𝐜.

ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵃⁱˢᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ; ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵍʰᵗᵗᵃ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ‧‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ; ᵃ ᵇᵉⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ⁱⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 4 8

ᵀʰᵉ ᵂʰᵉᵉˡ ᴰᵉᵃˡ | 𝟖𝟒𝟑 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ˢʰʳⁱᵉᵏ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴴᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷʰᵉᵉˡ⸴ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵉᵐᵇᵉᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ! ᵁⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠʳᵉᵉ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ ʳⁱᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵉᵉˡˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵃ ᵍᵃˢᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴼᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ⸴ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵃᵈ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ?" "ᴴⁿⁿⁿ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵐᵃᵗᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵗ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃᶜʳᵒᵖᵃᵗʰᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵃᶜᵗ‧" ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱᶜ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱᶜ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵃᶜʳᵒᵖᵃᵗʰᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᵃᵍᵐᵃᵗᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵘᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁿᵉˢˢ‧" "ᴴᵘʰʰʰ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‽" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿʸ ˡⁱⁿᵍᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ‧ ᵀᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵈⁱᶻᶻʸ/ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᔆᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵒ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ʸ⁻ʸᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈʳᵒʷˢⁱˡʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈʳᵒʷˢⁱᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ!" ᵀʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃᵍᵉˢ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ⁱᵐᵖᵘˡˢⁱᵛⁱᵗʸ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ⁿᵒ ⁱⁿᶜˡⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉᶜʰⁿⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵛᵉˢᵗⁱᵍᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵘʳⁱᵒˢⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ‽" ᴴᵉ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵘᵖ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᴬⁿ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧" "ᴬʰ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ!" ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴺᵉˣᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ "ᴹᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵒᵉᵈ‧ "ᴺⁿᵍʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐⁿⁱˡᵒᑫᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ!" ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵉⁿ’ᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᶜᵃˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵃᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵉᵉˡˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵖʳᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ‧ "ᴳᵃʰ!" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵖⁱʳᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒⁿ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᶠᵗ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣᵗʳᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢˡⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ! ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ‧ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵃᶠᵉʳ ʷʰᵉᵉˡˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍˢ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʲᵃʳ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵃ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᴵ'ᵈ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ! ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᴵ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰ ᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵃˢᵏ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʷᵃʸ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ᴳᵒᵗ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʷʰᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᶠᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧" "ᔆᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᶠᵘˡ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧" "ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉᶠᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧

My Tiny Genius RibbonDee Summary: After a long day of once again trying and failing to steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula, Plankton is feeling down in the dumps. It's up to Karen to cheer him up. Language:EnglishStats:Published:2024-02-01Words:721 There were many words to describe the Chum Bucket, and pleasant certainly was not one of them. Overall it reeked of filth, grime and all sorts of health code violations. A certain musty odor seemed to always linger in the air, no matter how much air freshener one used. Truly, it was a wonder this place was still in business. There were many theories as to why, but truly no one except for the restaurants’ owners really knew. One of said owners was in the lobby, waiting as she always did for her husband when he was off with one of his schemes. Karen was standing in the room in her mobile apparatus, her screen blank as she waited ever so patiently. Best case scenario Plankton would simply fail as usual. Worst… the Chum Bucket was blown to smithereens again. Neither outcome was good, but it was obvious which one was more favorable. Finally, a small tapping sound came from one of the doors. He was back. Karen wheeled over to the red double doors and let the poor man in. He was a mess. He was covered in ash and some bruises, and she was immediately concerned. “Plankton-” she began. “Not now honey.” Plankton sulked off, no doubt on his way to the lab. “Plankton!” The tiny organism turned around to face his computer wife. “What?” “I have dinner ready.” “I ain’t in the mood for holographic meatloaf.” He turned back around and went on his way. Karen put her robotic arms on where her hips would be and rolled on after him. “What kind of attitude is that? At least let me patch you up! It looks like it hurts!” “No it- ow. Ok fine.” Karen bent over and picked up the creature in her metal palms and gently lifted him up and began to wheel him into the lab area. She set him down on a counter and got out the first aid kit that was for this sort of thing. “How’d it go”, she said as she began to clean his wounds. “OW! Easy!” “Sorry sweetie. But how did things go? Didja get that formula this time?” “What does it look like? Nope. I failed again. Always.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I… I can’t do this.” “Can’t do what?” “What do you think?! I can’t get that formula! Krabs is always one step ahead!” “Oh hon, surely you’ll get it next time”, Karen said, giving Plankton a little pat on the back which caused him to fall flat on his face. “Ow.” “Sorry.” Plankton stood, and sighed. “That’s what you always say. I always go for it again, and it blows up in my face! Literally! Look at all these inventions. Failures. All of them.” Plankton’s eye was beginning to tear up. Karen felt her circuits beginning to tingle with pity. Poor little fella. She remembered all of the earlier formula-nabbing schemes, and how motivated and eager her husband was. With each failed plan Plankton grew ever more weary, which was odd as he was usually quite the tenacious type. “Oh Plankton”, Karen said tenderly. “Oh Karen! I’m a failure!” Karen gasped in horror. “You are NOT!” “How?” “For starters, you build all these amazing inventions that are way ahead of their time! You’re brilliant!” “Go on.” “You went to college!” “Yeah!” “And you're gonna GET that formula!” “Yeah!” Plankton made sure to say the last yeah extra loudly, clearly filled with his usual overinflated ego once again. It usually never took to long to reignite his drive via a small pep talk, something Karen was very happy to provide for her beloved single celled spouse. “I am going to get the formula, and make Krabs eat dirt!” “I know you are, honey. But I think you should rest or eat first.” “No I- ow. Yeah alright.” “That's the spirit, little guy. Now let's go and relax for a while. You've earned it.” Karen picked up her now relieved husband, and began to wheel them towards their living quarters so the poor little thing could rest. “I love you, my tiny little genius.” “Heh, love you too babe.” And so the pair of strange lovers were off, for now they would relax and perhaps discuss oh so evıl, diabolical and lemon scented plans for the future.

ᴳᵉᵗ ᵁᵖ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐧. ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃʲᵃʳ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ?" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵘᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" "ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧

ᵀʰᵉ ᶜʳᵃᵐᵖˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘˢᶜˡᵉˢ ᵃᶜʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ!" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗ⁻ᵗᵒ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʸᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵒʳ?" "ᴵᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿ’ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˡⁱᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ ᵀᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡᵃᵐᵖ‧ ᶠᵃᶜⁱᵃˡ ᶠᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ˡᵃˣ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ' ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵉʳ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟕𝟓

ᴬˡˡ ᴹⁱⁿᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴹʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ; ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ʳⁱᶜʰ!" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʰᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃʳ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒᵒᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵖᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᶠᵉˡˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢᵗⁱᶜᵏ ʷᵉᵈᵍᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ "ᴴᵉˡᵖ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʳ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵐⁱⁿᵉˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵈˡʸ!" ᴬˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˢᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ⸴ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ʰᵘʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵇⁱᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱᶜᵏ‧ ᴹᵒʳᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᵈʲᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵖᵘˡˢᵉ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ‧ "ᵀᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵉᵃʳ‧ "ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ˡⁱᵐᵇˢ ᵈᵃⁿᵍˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ‧ 'ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʷ' ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵇʸ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵘᵖⁱⁿᵉ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˡᵉˢˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵐⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢⁱˢᵗ ᵒʳ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ!" ᴬᵍᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴼʰ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵏⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ; ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃˢ ⁱᶠ ᵏⁿⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ?" ᴿᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ˢᵒ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ "ᴴᵘʰʰʰ ʷ⁻ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ʰᵃᵖ⁻ᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍⁱˡʸ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᵂʰʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇˡᵘʳʳʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘᶻᶻʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ⸴ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ!" 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᵒʰ ʸᵉᵃ‧ ᴵ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴵ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐ?' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᶜᵘᵉ!" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ? ᴼʰ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵉᵃᵏ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᶠᵒᵒˡⁱˢʰ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ˢⁱᶜᵏ⸴ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵒʷ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᴵ'ᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵉˢ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵗᵗᵒ‧ ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧" "ᴬⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴳᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ʸᵉˢ; ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴼʰ ᴵ'ˡˡ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵃʲᵃʳ‧ ᴺⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟲𝟴𝟴

ᴮᵃᵈ ᴺⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 'ᴵᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵃ ʰᵒᵃˣ; ᵃ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ!' 'ᴸᵃᵘⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ!' 'ᴵ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ!' ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵒˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ˢⁿᵃᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᔆʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵉˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵏˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ? ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ!" ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ˢ⁻ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ‧‧‧" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧" "ᴼʰ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵘˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵃᵇˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 1 6 ⟩

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.

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!"

"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."

"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.

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."

"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.

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KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 10 (Autistic author) Ignorant of Plankton's neurodivergence, Sandy doesn't realize that her persistent questions are adding to his overwhelm. She leans closer, her face a canvas of concern. "Look at me, Plankton," she says, her voice strained as she grabs his shoulder. Plankton's antennae twitch in agitation, his single eye snapping up to meet hers. The touch feels like a brand, his senses on fire. "Words," he murmurs, his voice a desperate static, trying to return to the safety of the word search. But Sandy's grip is firm, her gaze intense. "Look at me, Plankton," she says, her voice a persistent hum. She doesn't understand the distress she's causing, her intentions pure but misguided. So she turns him using both of her hands to squeeze his arms. The sudden pressure sends waves of pain coursing through his tiny body, his voice a piercing squeal of static. "No, no," he whispers, but she only holds tighter. Her touch feels like a vice, her voice a relentless buzz in his ear. "What's going on?" she repeats, her grip unyielding. Plankton's eye widens with fear, his voice a desperate static. "No, Sandy, please," he whispers, his body trying to shrink away from the contact. But she doesn't understand, her eyes searching his for answers. "Just answer me! You're not getting the book until you decide to have a conversation!" The pain in his arms spikes, the pressure unbearable. His voice cracks like a whip. "Can't," he gasps, his breath quick and shallow. "Too much." Sandy's grip doesn't lessen. "Why not?" she asks, her voice a stubborn hum. "You're okay." The room feels like it's closing in on him, the sensation of her touch like a million tiny saws against his skin. He tries to pull away, his voice a frantic static. "Too much," he whispers, his breathing quick and erratic. "Need words, not touch." But Sandy's grip doesn't loosen. She's determined to get his attention. "Look at me then," she insists, her voice a firm hum. "I'm right here." Plankton's eye flutters with the effort to focus on her face. The sensory assault of her touch and her persistent voice is like a whirlpool threatening to pull him under. "No," he whispers, his voice a fragile static. "Please." "Talk. To. Me!" She says as she pulls him closer to her. Plankton's eye bulges with the effort of not looking away. The room is spinning, his senses are on fire. Karen's screens flicker with alarm, picking up on his distress. "Sandy," she beeps, her voice a warning siren. "Let go of his arms." Sandy's grip tightens, not comprehending the harm she's causing. "But he's not answering me!" she protests, her voice a confused trill. "Because until I get an answer..." Karen's screens blaze with a mix of frustration and fear. "Sandy, you're hurting him," she beeps, her voice a sharp warning. Sandy's grip doesn't waver. She doesn't understand the severity of the situation. Her eyes are wide, her expression a mask of confusion. "What's wrong with you!" she asks Plankton. "I JUST..." "Sandy, stop!" Karen beeps, her voice a piercing alarm. "You're causing him pain!" Sandy's grip finally loosens, her hands retreating from Plankton's arms. She stares at him, her expression a storm of confusion and concern as Plankton's tiny body slumps. "What's wrong with you?" she asks again, her voice a gentle hum of bewilderment. Plankton's body quivers like a leaf, his eye squeezed shut against the onslaught of emotions. "Can't..." Sandy's face is a canvas of confusion, her hands hovering over him like a lost diver searching for the surface. "But why?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton's body is a taut bowstring, each breath a struggle. He tries to find the words to explain, his voice a static whisper. "Too much," he says, his eye still tightly shut. "It's too much." Sandy's gaze softens, her confusion giving way to concern. She doesn't understand, but she can see his pain. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice a gentle breeze. Plankton takes a shaky breath, his body still reeling from the overstimulation. He opens his eye, looking at her. "Say no, Sandy." Sandy's gaze is steady, her voice a soft hum. "No?" she asks, her eyes searching his for answers. But he won't elaborate. Karen's screens flicker with frustration. She knows Sandy means well, but her lack of understanding is causing more harm than good. "Sandy, Plankton's going through something new," she explains, her voice a calm beep. "He's sensitive to touch and sounds right now." Sandy's eyes widen, the realization dawning. "Oh," she says, her voice a soft trill of understanding. "I didn't know." She sits back, giving him space. "Words," he whispers, his voice a sob. "Words." Sandy nods, her confusion replaced with empathy. "Okay, let's stick to words," she says, her voice a gentle rumble. She picks up the word search book, holding it out to him like a peace offering. "Words," he whimpers. Plankton takes the book, his antennae drooping. He finds comfort in the predictability of the letters and the structure of the puzzle, the words becoming a lifeline in a sea of chaos. He begins to scan the page again, his breathing slowing. Sandy watches him, her heart heavy with regret. She had no idea her actions could cause so much pain. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a sincere hum. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Plankton." "Words," he murmurs. Sandy nods, her eyes reflecting genuine apology. "It's okay," she whispers. "We'll just stick to words." Karen's screens flicker with relief, seeing Plankton's body slowly relax. "Thank you, Sandy," she beeps, her voice a warm hum of gratitude. Sandy nods, her expression earnest. "I'm here to help," she says, her voice a comforting trill. She looks at Plankton, her eyes filled with concern. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, his body still tense. "Words, words." Sandy nods, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What happened to make you like this, Plankton?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. He takes a deep shuddering breath as tears start to form in his eye. "Mmm," he hums, hugging his knees. Sandy's gaze is intense, her curiosity piqued. "What happened, Plankton?" she asks, her voice a soft trill of concern. "Hmmm," Plankton hums as he rocks, now crying. Sandy's eyes are wide with worry, her voice a gentle hum. "Hey, what's going on?" she asks, looking for answers. "Hmmmm..." Plankton keeps humming, sniffling in between hums. Karen decides to intervene. "Sandy," Karen beeps firmly, her screens flashing with concern. "Let's give Plankton some space." Sandy nods, her expression a mix of apology and confusion. She takes a step back, her gaze never leaving Plankton's shaking form. "I didn't know," she whispers, her voice a soft rumble of regret. "It's okay," Karen beeps, her voice a comforting hum. "We're all learning." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's shaking form. "But what happened?" she asks again, her voice a gentle trill of concern. Plankton's body is a tiny storm, his sobs quaking through his tiny frame. Karen's screen pulse with sympathy. "Sandy," she beeps, her voice a calm wave. "Let's talk outside." Sandy nods, her eyes filled with worry.

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢠⠔⠒⢌⠢⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⣦⣄⠀⠑⠈⠢⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠲⣦⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠛⠷⣶⣄⡠⡜⢢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠷⣶⣦⣤⣀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣶⣠⡌⢿⣿⣾⣶⣽⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠝⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣦⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡄⢼⣿⣮⡛⢿⣟⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣭⣻⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣶⣶⣆⣀⣹⣿⣷⣆⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠉⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⣀⣀⣹⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣭⠤⣼⡷⣤⠖⠾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣙⣿⣿⣿⣏⣉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀ ⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⣤⡟⣽⣯⣔⠠⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡙⣿⣿⣿⠿⣷⣄⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⠄⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣑⠂⠀⠈⣙⢻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⠿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣷⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠛⢿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣄⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢸⣿⣿⣿⡏⣿⢳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⣿⣿⢻⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠻⡟⠛⠛⠛⠉⣠⣋⡤⠴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠘⣿⣿⣿⣇⠛⣿⡟⣻⣷⣟⣛⣿⣾⣏⡰⡽⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⠃ ⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⢰⡿⠀⠁⠁⠈⠙⠻⣦⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢻⣿⣿⣿⣆⠘⢿⣿⠏⣙⣿⡋⠻⠯⢠⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣥⣄⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠚⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠃⠉⠉⠉⠙⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠼⠿⠿⠻⠟⠇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣟⠑⠓⠖⠓⠀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣉⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣉⣀⡀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠁⠈⢀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

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⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣉⣩⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⣾⣿⣿⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠤⠙⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠙⠻⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⣩⣝⢿⠀⠀⣠⣶⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⡝⣿⣦⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣮⢻⣿⠟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠻⠿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣋⣁⣀⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣦⣶⣾⣿⣷⣶⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⣿⣟⠯⠓⣉⣩⣭⣝⣻⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⠗⢡⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⠏⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⣿⣿⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣸⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣨⣩⠙⠀⢹⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣀⣀⣀⣀⢧⣿⠂⣀⠀⣿⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣶⣿⣿⠗⡤⢤⣀⡉⠊⡱⢋⣉⣉⣷⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡝⣿⣿⠀⠈⠙⠿⠃⠀⡇⠽⠛⢻⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⡀⠈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⣀⠤⠾⣄⡹⣄⠀⢸⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣋⢹⣿⣿⣷⡾⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣶⣿⠿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢻⣿⣿⣇⠈⠡⢄⣀⠐⢉⣿⣿⣴⣿⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣷⣤⣄⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡅ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠒⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢿⣿⡿⠛⠋⠘⣿⣿⠿⢯⠛⠂⠤⢄⡀⠀⠀⠠⠱ ⠀⣠⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠁⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀ ⣰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢇⠀⠀⢣⠒⠲⠤⣀⡀⠀⡀⣀⠤⠒⠂⠸⡀⠀⢱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⣄ ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢆⡀⠀⢣⡀⠀⠈⠀⠈⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠰⠧⠀⠚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠙ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀

3( • ̀ω•́ )✧( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧🩷˚.🎀༘⋆(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)(ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³9️˚ ༘ 🦕𖦹⋆｡˚˚ ༘ 🦕𖦹⋆｡˚

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ᴱᵃʳˡʸ ᔆᑫᵘⁱʳʳᵉˡ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʳᵃᶠᶠⁱᶜ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ʲᵒˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶜᵗ‧ 'ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵐ ᴵ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ 'ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗʳʸ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿʸ ⁿᵃᵖˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᵉˢ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵘʳᵍᵉᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵃˡˢᵉʰᵒᵒᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗⁱʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ 'ᵀʳʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒᵘᵈᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ' "‧‧‧ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵗⁱʳʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴿᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʸᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ‧" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᴬⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‽" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ!" "ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡˢ ᵒᶠᶠ⸴ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵛᵉʰⁱᶜˡᵉ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵖ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵗᵒᵖ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ!" "ᔆᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵘᵈˡʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᔆᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵏⁱᵈ‧" ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿⁿᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧" "ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃᵗⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᵘʳ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧" "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᴵ ᵗʳᵃᵛᵉˡˡᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵐᵉʳᵐᵃⁱᵈ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵃᶜˡᵉ ᵇᵒʸ ᵐᵘˢᵉᵘᵐ ᵈᵉᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᶜᶜᵃˢⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃʸˢ 'ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ' 'ʸᵉˢ' ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃᶠᶠⁱʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵈʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘˢᵉᵘᵐ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃʳ ᵛⁱᵉʷ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵖʳᵒᵛⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵈʳᵒʷˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵃᵖ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʰⁱᶜˡᵉ ᵒⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ⸴ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶠᵃⁱʳ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵃʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ "ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵇᵒʸˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴴᵒʷᵈʸ⸴ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ!" ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵐᵇᵃʳᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ "ᴿᵉᵃᵈʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴬ ᵖᵒᵗᵃᵗᵒ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ‽" "ᴼʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵒˡᶜᵃⁿᵒ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʳᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡ⸴ ᵈᵉᵇᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉ‧ "ᴼʰ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵃᵘᵗᵒᵐᵃᵗⁱᶜ ᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ!" "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧" "ᴼʰ‧" "ᴬ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ‽" ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧" ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ᵈ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᔆᵒ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵒʳ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴱˣᶜᵘˢᵉ ᵐᵉ‽" "ᴼʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒ⸴ ᵃᵇˢᵒˡᵘᵗᵉˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗ‧" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒᵘᵇᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "‧‧‧ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖ? ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʳⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵘˡˡ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ʳᵉˢᵗᶠᵘˡ ˢˡᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ‧" "ᴷⁱᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱ— ᶜᵃʳ ᵗʳⁱᵖˢ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᵗⁱʳᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ! ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒʷ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁱⁿᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗᵉ ʳᵃᵐᵇˡᵉˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ?" "ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʳᵃᵛᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ?" "ᴼʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿˢ⸴ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧ "‧‧‧ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧‧‧ ‧‧‧ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷʰᵒ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧" » 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟖𝟑𝟑

why does emojicombos and lingojam have perchance.org links 😭

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(◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡶⠁⣠⣴⣾⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣴⣿⠿⠋⣁⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠀⣀⣀⣀⣨⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⠂ ⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⢀⣴⣿⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⠖⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠈⢿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣋⣠⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 10 (Neurodivergent author) COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 10 (Neurodivergent author) The room holds its breath, a suspended moment of understanding. Hanna nods, her smile a gentle ripple across her screen. "Ok," she says, her voice a soft echo. "Overwhelming moments it is." Plankton starts to rock slightly, they both notice. Hanna watches, her curiosity piqued. "What's with the rocking?" she asks, her voice a soft ripple of inquiry. Karen looks at her, her eyes a gentle wave of patience. "It's called self-stimulation, or 'stimming' for short," she explains. "It's a way for Plankton to regulate his senses." "But why?" Karen's smile is a soft sunrise, illuminating the room with patience. "It helps him process the world," she explains, her voice a gentle tide of understanding. "It's like a lullaby for his senses." Hanna nods, her curiosity like a tide that won't recede. "But it's not like he's just throwing a fit?" she asks, her voice a cautious wave. Plankton's rocking abruptly stops at her wording, his antennae snapping to attention like whips in a storm. His face is a mask of hurt, his voice a sharp coral when he speaks. "Don't you dare say that," Plankton snaps, his eye brimming with tears of sadness. "How could you?" Hanna's eyes widen, the room's calm shattered like a wave on the shore. "I didn't mean to..." Her words are drowned out by Plankton's sobs. "Why'd you say that?" he whispers, wiping his tears. "I didn't mean it like that," she says, her voice gaining volume. "I just don't understand..." Her words are a storm, cutting off his air like a sudden squall. Plankton's having an absence seizure, his body frozen like a statue in the middle of a tempest. His unblinking eye is unseeing, and Karen knows he's trying to process the shock. Hanna feels panicked at the sight of Plankton. "Plankton?" she whispers. Her voice is a pebble thrown into the pond of his consciousness, the ripples unnoticed. Karen's hand is a gentle anchor, a silent signal for Hanna to be calm. She moves closer, her screen a soft glow in the morning's light. "It's ok," she whispers, her voice a lullaby against the storm. "He's just having an 'overwhelming moment'." Hanna nods, her screen reflecting her newfound understanding. Karen's hand is a soft current on Plankton's back, guiding him through the tumult of his sensory overload. His body is still as a statue, his antennae a silent symphony of nerves. Hanna watches. "What's happening?" she whispers, fear lapping at her words like the tide at a rocky shore. Karen's voice is a gentle whisper, her screen a calm sea. "It's ok," she reassures, her hands a steady current on his back. "It's just an overwhelming moment." Plankton's body is a marble statue, his breathing a soft hush in the quiet room. His antennae hang limp, a silent testament to the storm within. Hanna's eyes are a sea of concern, her voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his unresponsiveness. "What do we do?" she whispers, her fear a currents in the air. Karen's screen never leaves his frozen form, her voice a soothing lullaby. "Just wait," she murmurs. "Let him come back to us." The room holds its breath, a bubble in the vast sea of their uncertainty. Plankton's body is a marble statue, his mind a tempest. Hanna's concern is a gentle current against the shoreline of her understanding. Karen's hand is a lighthouse beam, steady and strong on Plankton's back. She whispers to him, her voice the rhythm of the tides. "It's okay," she murmurs, her fingers tracing circles of comfort. "You're safe here." Her words are a lifeline thrown into the storm of his senses. His antennae twitch, a distant signal of life in the quiet morning. His eye blinks, the shutters of consciousness opening to the gentle light of her care. The room's calm is a soft embrace, their sanctuary in the storm of the world. "I'm here," Karen whispers, her voice a lighthouse beam in the fog of his fear. "You're safe." Her words are a warm current, washing over him, bringing him back to the surface. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye blinks, and he takes a shaky breath, the storm within him slowly subsiding. His body relaxes into her touch, his antennae drooping like tired seaweed. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice a quiet wave against the shore. "I didn't mean to..." Hanna's eyes are pools of regret, her smile a fading sunset. Karen nods, her gaze a gentle moonrise. "We'll take it slow," she whispers, her voice a soft surf against the shore of their friendship. The world outside the guest room is a distant hum, a gentle reminder of the waves that await them. Karen's hand is a comforting current on Plankton's back, her screen a beacon of understanding in the sea of confusion. "Let's go home," she whispers, her voice a soft ripple. Plankton nods, his body a ship at anchor, finding steadiness in her words. They move together, a silent ballet of care and trust, each step a gentle wave carrying them closer to the familiarity of their own space. "I'm sorry Plankton," Hanna says, her voice a soft ripple of regret. "I didn't know."

ᶠᶸᶜᵏme𓀐𓂸

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

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⡶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠖⠚⠛⠛⠛⠛⠓⠶⢶⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⡶⠾⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣙⣻⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣤⣤⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠺⠟⠛⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⡿⠟⠋⣉⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠾⠿⠿⢿⣿⣟⡻⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⢀⣴⠿⠋⠉⠉⠉⠛⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⣿⠟⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠚⠋⠙⠉⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠋⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⣶⣶⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡖⠀⣰⣿⣃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠴⢿⣇⠘⣿⣿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣦⣄⣀⣀⣠⣴⣤⠾⠛⠙⠛⠻⣶⣄⠀ ⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣦⣤⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⡤⢿⡿⠁⣤⡿⠛⠶⣦⠀⠹⣦ ⢸⡇⠀⡀⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⣼⠟⣿⢳⢶⡾⣧⠀⣿ ⢸⡇⠀⠱⣀⡀⠀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⢠⡟⠒⠛⠛⠚⠓⣿⠀⣿ ⢸⣇⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⣸⡇ ⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⠘⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢐⡷⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⣿⠀ ⠀⢻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣿⡀ ⠀⠀⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠢⡀⠀⡀⣸⠇⣼⠧⠤⣄⡀⠈⣷⡀⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠉⠂⠄⠀⣠⡟⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⣸⡇⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣶⠾⠛⠉⢹⡶⣄⠁⢸⡇⠀⣿⢻⣟⣿⢻⠉⣿⠁⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⠀⠙⣾⡇⠀⢻⣏⠉⠙⢛⡿⠃⠀⣾⠃ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡾⠛⠁⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⣨⣿⣄⠀⠈⠛⠛⠋⠁⣠⡾⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⣀⣀⣾⠟⠉⠉⠛⠛⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣦⣤⣾⠏⠀⠈⠛⠲⢶⠶⠶⣿⡋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⡀⢀⣿⠀⠀⢹⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣰⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⢨⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣰⡟⠀⠻⢶⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣄⣀⣀⣴⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠳⠶⠤⠤⠤⠤⠴⠶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡏⠉⠉⠉⠙⠻⠶⠶⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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CHAT. IVE BEEN EXPOSED TO PORN AT 9YRS AND IM ADDICTED TO IT AT 15, I USED TO MASTURATE AT 10. SO SHUT UP BABES ITS 2024ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

()-()✅✅εつ▄█▀█●😊0️⃣9️⃣5️⃣

()-()✅✅εつ▄█▀█●😊

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks The Grief Is Always Greener There is no pain worse than burying your own chıld. When my son was first dıagnosed with leukemia, I fell apart. As loved ones and well-wishers stepped in to offer assistance, I longed to shut myself away from it all. Even though I knew they meant well, I couldn’t stand the attention. All I wanted was my old life back with Billy healthy. By the time the cáncer took my Àngel from me, I was a different person. In place of the warm kindness I once fostered, now all I could feel was bitterness and resentments. Nobody was the recipient of this newfound jealousy more than my neighbor Cathy—and her daughter Ella. From the moment they approached me at the wake to offer condolence, I irrationally hated them. Why did it have to be me going through this agonizing loss, and not Cathy? Why was it my kid deprived of growing up, and not Ella? Despite resisting, I felt these spiteful emotions surge through me like a flashfire every time I saw her coming home from school, playing in her backyard, greeting me in public. Before I knew it, I began to fantasize about Cathy’s child, too. I pictured her shriveling up and wasting away like Billy had. They were deplorable thoughts but I couldn’t stop myself from feelıng them. Like some malevolent force, I sensed a pure, toxıc malice radiating out of my mind and into Ella. It was as if my grief had manifested into a living evıl. That’s when the unthinkable started occurring. Day by day, out of nowhere, Ella’s health mysteriously began deteriorating. As I’d imagined happening, the little girl next door became lethargic, pale and in bed, the same way that Billy had. Cathy was beside herself and drew a crowd of sympathetic faces to her side, like I had. My mind couldn’t have really caused this, right? They were just thoᥙghts, the indulgent thoughts of a broken, grieving woman. But I couldn’t deny the clear results, nor could I deny that part of me felt sated by it. My cosmic venom kept being transmitted to that poor girl. Until finally, like Billy, she passed away. Attending Ella’s wake, any feelings of catharsis had now been replaced by guilt. There was no fairness I could see, no justice. Just two stolen lives. Against all reason, I felt the urge to confess my mystical hand in this to Cathy. But, as I went to spill my heart out, she confessed to me first. “Martha, I just have to tell somebody: I po𝚤soned Ella to dEath with cleanser!” I was speechless. “I know it’s awful” she cries to me, batting her mascara-tinged lashes. “But I was so jeαlous seeing all the attention you got when Billy died.” “There’s no paın worse than watching your frıend bury theır own chıld.”

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 8 (Neurodivergent author) The candle's light flickers, painting shadows across the walls like a silent sonnet. The whispers from the kitchen are a distant lullaby, a reminder of the world outside their cocoon. Plankton's antennae hang limp, a declaration of his surrender to sleep's embrace. Eventually Hanna's friends all left. Hanna herself goes up to Karen and Plankton. "I'm sorry," she says brimming with tears. "I didn't know." Her voice is a whisper, a soft wave against the shore. Karen nods, her screen never leaving Plankton's peaceful form. "It's ok," Karen whispers back, her voice gentle. "It's just part of him." Hanna nods. Plankton's snores are the only sound, a symphony of comfort in the quiet. Hanna's screen is full of apology as she sits beside them on the couch. "I had no idea," she says, her voice a soft ripple. "How can I help?" Karen smiles, her screen never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "Just being here is enough," she murmurs, her voice a gentle tide. Hanna nods, understanding dawning in her eyes. Plankton's antennae are a testament to his peace, finally still against her neck. His snores are the rhythm of the deep sea, a soothing melody that fills the quiet space. The room is a sanctuary of soft light and gentle whispers. Hanna's screen watch them. "I'll make up the guest room," she says, her voice a soft ripple. "You guys should stay the night." Karen nods, her screen still on Plankton's peaceful face. "Thank you, Hanna," she whispers, the words a gentle wave of gratitude. Karen turns her attention back to Plankton. "Hey," she whispers. "You ok?" Plankton's eye opens, a sliver of the room's light reflecting in his pupil. "Mm-hmm," he murmurs. Karen smiles, a soft moon in the night of his worries. "We're staying the night," she whispers. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye widening slightly. "But...the chum," he mumbles, his voice a distant echo in the calm. "Don't worry," Karen reassures him, her voice a gentle lullaby. "We'll go back home tomorrow." His antennae relax, the tension easing from his body like a wave retreating from the shore. "Ok," he whispers. Karen nods, her smile a beacon in the quiet. "Let's get you to bed," she says, her voice a soft current. With care, she lifts him, his body a delicate coral reef in her arms. They move through the house, each step a gentle wave that carries them closer to the guest room. Plankton's antennae sway slightly with the motion, his eye half-open as he takes in the surroundings. The hallways are a maze of shadows, the lights dimmed to a comforting glow. Hanna has cleared a path for them, a silent guardian in the night. Karen's heart swells with gratitude as they enter the guest room, the quiet sanctuary waiting for them. The bed is a vast ocean, the sheets a soft embrace that welcomes Plankton's weary body. She lowers him onto the cool surface, his antennae drooping with relief. Her eyes are a lighthouse, guiding him through the transition. The room is a cocoon of softness, the curtains drawn like the sea's embrace. Karen's hands are a gentle tide, helping him into the bed. The pillows are clouds for his antennae to rest upon, the comforter a warm, enveloping current. His body sighs with relief, the weight of the evening's chaos finally lifted. Karen tucks him in, her screen a soft glow in the quiet darkness. "Good night, Plankton," she whispers, her voice a gentle lapping wave.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 9 (Neurodivergent author) The next morning, Karen wakes up first. She and Plankton are still at Hanna's house. The room is a soft embrace of morning light, the curtains pulled back like the veil of a bride. She carefully extricates herself from the tangle of limbs, not wanting to wake him. Plankton's antennae twitch in his sleep, a gentle reminder of his constant vigilance, even in rest. Karen moves quietly, seeing Hanna already up. "How's he doing?" Hanna whispers, her voice a soft splash in the morning calm. Karen turns, her eyes a mirror of the quiet sea outside. "He's sleeping," she says, her voice a soothing ripple. Plankton stirs, his antennae twitching with the first whispers of consciousness. The room's soft light is a gentle tide, easing him into the day. His eye opens. Karen is there, her smile a ray of sunlight piercing the morning's soft shadows. "Hey," she says, her voice a gentle ripple. "How are you feeling?" Plankton blinks, his antennae slowly rising like the dawn. "K-Karen," he mumbles, his voice a quiet wave against the shore. Hanna followed Karen in to the room. "Just let him wake up," Karen murmurs. Her screen is a soft sea, full of concern for Plankton. Hanna nods, her curiosity like a rock in the tide of her understanding. "I've never seen anything like yesterday before," she says, her voice a whisper. "When I saw the seizure..." Her words trail off, the memory a storm cloud in the room's serenity. Karen nods. "It's like his brain gets overwhelmed and just...short- circuits." Hanna's screen is a canvas of curiosity, her eyes wide as the sea. "What causes it?" she asks, her voice a gentle probe. Karen sighs, her screen a soft glow. "His brain can't always handle the overstimulation." Hanna nods, her gaze sliding to Plankton, who is sitting up. "You mean like a meltdown?" The word hits him like a tidal wave, his antennae snapping to attention. "Don't say that," he snaps, his voice a crack of thunder in the room's calm. "Never call it a 'meltdown' or a 'seizure'!" Karen's eyes widen, a silent ocean of surprise. Hanna's cheerfulness fades like the dawn. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice a retreating wave. Plankton's antennae snap back, a barricade of hurt. "They're just words, Plankton," Hanna says, her voice tentative. He turns away, his antennae quivering. "I can't control it." The room's peace is a shattered coral reef, the waves of his emotion crashing through. Karen sits beside him, her hand a comforting current on his back. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "It's ok to be upset." Her words are a lighthouse beam, guiding him through the fog of his fears. "Those words are just descriptions. They don't define you. What words would you like them to be called instead?" He thinks for a moment, his antennae twitching with the effort. "How about...'overwhelming moments'?" he suggests, his voice a soft lapping wave of hope. "Pauses, spasms.." Karen nods, her eyes a gentle smile. "That's a beautiful way to put it," she says, her voice a soothing current. "Would you like me to use that instead?" Plankton turns to her, his antennae quivering with hope. "Yes," he whispers, his voice a soft wave. "Would like to use that instead."

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😘❤️

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ᵀᵒⁿˢⁱˡˡᵉᶜᵗᵒᵐʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ‧ “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵃˡ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ‧” ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ ‘ᵇⁱᵗᵉ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ˢᶜᵃˡᵖᵉˡˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ˢᵘᵗᵘʳᵉˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ’ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ “ᴴⁱ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ! ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ?” ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵖʳᵒᵛⁱᵈᵉᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧ “ᵀʰⁱʳˢᵗʸ?” ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵖ‧ “ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈ…” “ʸᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉᵃˡˢ ᵗᵒ?” “ᶜᵒʳʳᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵃ’ᵃᵐ‧” ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ ‘ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁿᵃᵖˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ ‘ᵂʰʸ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱˣ… ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ‧’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ; ˡᵉᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ, ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵂᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᵁᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?” “ʸᵉˢ!” ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢⁿᵃᶜᵏ, ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ, ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵐᵉᵈ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧” “ᵀʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵈʳⁱᵇᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧” 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟐𝟗

COMPUTER SENSORS i * "Karen!" Hanna exclaimed, throwing her arms around Karen in a warm embrace. "You made it!" Karen beamed. "Is the husband home?" Hanna asked, glancing around. "In our bedroom," Karen answers. "I don't think you've met!" Hanna followed Karen through the hallway. She'd heard of Karen's husband, Plankton, but had never formally met each other. Inside, Plankton sat on the edge of the bed. "Plankton, this is my friend Hanna," Karen announced, screen sparkling with excitement. Plankton looked up. He hadn't been expecting company, especially not someone so bubbly and vibrant. "Oh, Plankton," Hanna gushed, reaching out to him. She was a hugger, and she didn't hold back. She enveloped him. Plankton stiffened. It was... overwhelming. "It's so nice to finally meet you," Hanna said, her voice thick with sincerity. Hanna, ever the social butterfly, didn't seem to notice his discomfort. She plopped down on the bed beside him, her energy not even slightly dampened. "So, what do you guys have planned for the evening?" she asked, screen bright with excitement. "Well, we were just going to order in and watch a movie," Karen replied, shooting Plankton a knowing smile. She knew he liked his quiet evenings. "A movie night, huh?" Hanna clapped her hands together. "What's the film? I can stay and join!" Plankton wasn't one for sharing his personal space, especially with someone he just met. The bedroom was his sanctuary, a place of solitude where he could escape the world and be himself. Plankton managed a tight smile, his heart sinking. He wasn't in the mood for a romantic comedy, let alone one with Hanna's constant commentary and unbridled laughter. Karen quickly interjected. "Actually, Hanna, Plankton had his heart set on a sci-fi marathon tonight. You know, his usual Friday night routine." "Oh, I totally get it," she said, patting him. Plankton stiffened at her touch, his eye widening slightly. "Oooh, I know just the thing!" she exclaimed, jumping up and talking fast. "Karen, you won't believe this but I've got a DVD of 'Galactic Hearts' in my bag. It's got a bit of everything: romance, action, and a side of existential dread. Perfect for a Friday night in, right?" Plankton sighed inwardly. He knew he'd have to sit through it, if only to keep the peace. "Alright," he said, his voice tight. "Let's give it a go." With a resigned sigh, he trudged out to the kitchen to grab some popcorn and drinks. When he returned, Hanna had already claimed the spot beside him, leaving him no choice but to sit next to her, so he did, for Karen. The movie started, and Hanna was immediately engrossed, laughing and gasping at all the right moments. Plankton, on the other hand, felt like he was in an alien world of his own. Every time the romantic tension on screen built up, she would lean over and whisper something to Karen, who would giggle in response. The constant movement and noise were making his skin crawl. As the film went on, Hanna grew more and more absorbed in the love story unfolding before them. At one particularly dramatic scene, she reached over and grabbed Plankton's arm. "Oh, isn't this just the most romantic thing you've ever seen?" She gave him a squeeze not realizing the discomfort she was causing him. "Look at those stars," she whispered leaning closer. "It's just like they're reaching out to each other, isn't it?" Plankton shifted. He'd never been one for public displays of affection, and Hanna's affection was uncharted territory. He gently extracted his hand, placing it awkwardly on his lap. "I s'pose," he murmured, trying to keep his voice neutral. time she leaned in to whisper something to Karen, she brushed against him, sending a shiver down his spine. The movie's soundtrack swelled with a sappy love theme, and Hanna threw her arm around both their shoulders. Plankton stiffened. The room felt suddenly too warm, too small. He'd never been one for affection, especially not from someone he'd just met, and Hanna's touch was suffocating him. Her arm remained draped around his shoulders, her grip tightening every time the couple on-screen shared a tender moment. He tried to focus on the plot, but it was difficult with Hanna's sudden exclamations and loud sighs punctuating the silence. Karen seemed to be enjoying it, though, and he didn't want to spoil the evening. So, he sat, endured, and waited for the credits to roll. As the movie progressed, Hanna grew bolder with her displays of affection. She'd lean in close, her shoulder pressing into his, and whisper her predictions for the plot. He glanced at Karen, hoping for a reprieve, but she was caught up in the moment. Plankton sighed and turned back to the movie, trying to ignore the heat building in him. Hanna's hand found its way to Plankton's shoulder again. This time, she didn't let go. He cleared his throat, trying to subtly shift his body away from her touch, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the weight of her arm and the way she kept brushing against him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, begging for the solitude he craved. Hanna let out a contented sigh, her grip on Plankton's shoulder tightening involuntarily. He flinched, and she finally looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice full of concern. "It's nothing," Plankton said, his voice tight. Hanna looked at him. "Oh, I get it," she said, her hand moving from his shoulder to give his knee a comforting pat. "Sometimes romantic scenes can be too much, huh?" Plankton nodded stiffly. Then, Hanna leaned over and whispered, "You know Plankton you're not so bad for a guy who pretends not to like romance." She elbows him, her touch playful and teasing. Plankton's eye widened, his heart racing faster than the spaceship on the screen. He tried to laugh it off, his voice strained. He tried to keep his expression neutral. She leaned in closer, her arm now looped around his. "I think you're secretly a softy." Plankton's discomfort grew. He swallowed hard, his eye darting to Karen for help, but she was too lost in the film to notice his distress. He cleared his throat again, trying to be subtle, but they're oblivious. Karen looked over at her husband, her smile fading slightly as she noticed his rigid posture. She knew he wasn't a fan of the film, but she didn't realize Hanna's personality was making him so uncomfortable. Hanna jumped up from the couch. "Oh my gosh, you guys," she exclaimed a little too loud, her screen bright with excitement. "That was the best movie ever!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Karen couldn't help but laugh. "You really liked it?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. "Liked it?" Hanna repeated, her voice incredulous. "I'm in love with it!!" Her exuberance was palpable, but Plankton remained silent. He felt a mix of relief that the movie was over and dread for whatever might come next. Hanna, noticing his lack of response, turned to him with a grin. "What did you think, Plankton?" Plankton felt uncomfortable under her gaze. "It's just not really my genre," he said, his voice a touch defensive. Hanna's smile didn't falter. "Oh, come on," she said, nudging him playfully. "Admit it, you were totally rooting for them in the end." "Oh, I was," Plankton said, his voice devoid of enthusiasm. "I was just hoping the asteroid might hit the spaceship first." Karen couldn't help but laugh, seeing the playful banter between her friend and her husband. "Ok ok," she said, standing up and stretching. "I think we've had enough romance for one night. How about we switch gears and play a board game?" Hanna bounced, her energy unflagging. "Perfect! What do you have?" Plankton started to feel dizzy. "I'll grab something," he said, his voice tight. He needed to get away, to regain some semblance of control over the situation. He retreated to the bedroom, going on his bed. ** ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ *

⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸⁹

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 23 Plankton sits stiffly on the couch, antennae twitching as he tries to make sense of the new environment. Karen sits by him with Chip as Hanna herself sits in front of the couch by them. "So," Hanna says, her voice high-pitched. "What should we do first?" Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye darting to Karen again. She squeezes his hand gently. "Why don't we take a look at the guest room?" Karen suggests, her voice calm. "Where we'll sleep and put all our stuff.." Hanna nods eagerly. "Follow me!" She leads them down a hallway, the floorboards creaking underfoot. Plankton's heart races. New places meant new sounds, new smells, new everything. He feels his body tense, his stims wanting to take over. But he holds back. The guest room is a riot of color, the walls adorned with various knick-knacks that Hanna has collected over the years. Plankton's eye widens at the visual stimulation, and his antennae twitch rapidly. He knows he needs to find a way to cope. "Well, that's is your shared room," Hanna says cheerfully. "I hope you like it!" Plankton nods, his eye taking in the whirlwind of color and patterns. It's a lot to process. "It's...vibrant," he says, his voice tight. Hanna cackles at Plankton's comment, her laughter too loud. "Oh, I just LOVE color!" she says, not noticing his discomfort. Plankton's antennae quiver, his hand clenching into a fist. He takes a deep breath, willing his stims away. He doesn't want to ruin the moment, doesn't want Hanna to notice. But his senses are on overload, his mind racing. "Thank you," Karen says with a forced smile, stepping forward to set down their bags. She can feel the tension radiating from her husband. Hanna sits, her smile not dimming. "Oh, I just know we're going to have so much fun together," she gushes. "AND I've got a whole drawer full of board games for us to play!" Plankton nods, his smile slightly strained, wondering how much longer he can keep up the façade. Hanna's chatter fills the room. "I've got special movies for us tonight! And I've got everything from classics to the LATEST SCI-FI!" Plankton nods politely, his antennae quivering. He's trying to keep up with the rapid-fire conversation. "Uh, sure." He responds. Hanna's eyes light up at his interest in science fiction. "Oh, I KNOW you're going to love them," she says. His antennae twitch with the effort to keep up with the conversation, his eye glazed over with overstimulation. But Hanna doesn't notice. She pinches his shoulder, her laughter bubbly. "You're just SO sweet!" Plankton flinches at the contact, his body wanting to retreat. He swallows hard, trying to find the words to express his discomfort without offending Hanna. But she's already chatting on, her energy unstoppable. Her hand lands on his knee, giving it a squeeze. "Oh, I'm just so thrilled to have you here," she says. But Plankton's mind is elsewhere, his vision starting to waver as his body fights the onset of an absence seizure. The room spins around him, and his heart races. He knows the signs all too well, the sudden disconnection from the world as his brain goes into overdrive. Karen's eyes dart to Plankton's face, reading the signs. She knows what's happening. "Why don't we give them a few minutes to settle in?" Karen suggests, interrupting Hanna's enthusiastic chatter. "They've got to be tired from the trip." Hanna nods, her smile slightly puzzled but understanding. "Oh, of course!" she says, backing out of the room. The door closes with a click, leaving the three of them. Plankton's antennae twitch faster, his eye unfocused. He feels the world slipping away. "Dad?" Chip whispers, his hand tentatively reaching out. Plankton's breathing quickens, his heart pounding in his chest. Karen's voice is calm, a beacon in the storm. "Plankton, remember your stims," she says gently. "Find something to help you ground." Plankton's gaze flickers, his antennae moving erratically. He searches for his sensory bag, his eye landing on it by the foot of the bed. Karen notices, her hand quickly grabbing the bag. "Here," she says, her voice calm and steady. "Use your noise-canceling blindfold." Plankton takes it, his hands shaking as he tries to put it over his eye. The darkness is immediate, his other senses intensifying. He can feel the fabric against his skin, his heartbeat in his chest. He breathes in deeply, his chest rising and falling as he fights against the seizure. Chip watches, his heart racing. He's seen this before, but it never gets easy. He wants to help, but his mom's words echo in his mind. 'Let him be'. So, he sits. Karen's hand finds its way to Plankton's, her grip firm and reassuring. "You're okay, sweetie," she says softly. "We're here for you." Plankton nods, his breaths shallow, his antennae twitching. The pressure of Hanna's touch and the sensory overload of the new environment had been too much. He'd felt the seizure coming, the world closing in on him. Yet Karen's voice, her touch, it helps. He closes his eye, his hand fumbling for the stim toy from the bag. It's a small, velvet-covered sphere, and he clutches it tightly. The texture is soothing, grounding. The room is quiet, save for their soft breaths and the occasional creak of the house. Chip's heart thuds against his chest as he watches his dad, willing him to be okay. Plankton's hand squeezes the velvet sphere, his other hand reaching out to find Karen's. Karen's eyes never leave his face. She's seen this so many times before, the battle he wages internally. Her heart breaks a little each time, but her expression remains calm. Chip watches, his own heart racing. He's seen this before too, the way his dad's body fights against his mind. He's learned that silence is often the best medicine in these moments. Karen continues to speak in low, even tones. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers. "You're safe." Her hand never leaves his, the connection unbroken. Chip wants to copy her, his hand going onto his dad's knee.. But Plankton's body only rejects Chip's touch, unable to handle any more stimulation. Karen's voice remains steady, her grip on his hand tight. "Breathe, sweetie," she whispers. "In, and ou-" Her words are cut off by the sudden silence. Plankton's body goes still, his antennae ceasing their erratic movement. Karen notices Chip's hand on Plankton's knee. "Chip, buddy," she says gently. "Let's give him some space." Chip nods, his eyes wide with concern. He moves his hand away. Chip sits, his eyes glued to his dad. "D-dad?" he whispers, his voice shaky. Plankton's hand moves to the blindfold, looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. "It's okay," Karen repeats. "It's just a seizure, Chip. They're not uncommon." "Need," Plankton says, his voice faint, like it's coming from far away. "I need... I need... I don't know what I need." Karen knew that Plankton's still not with them yet when he talks like this. Karen nods, her voice still soft. "You're okay, Plankton. You're just having a seizure." Chip nods, trying to swallow his fear. He's learned that talking calmly helps bring him back. "It's okay," Chip echoes his mom. "We're right here." Plankton's eye darts around the room, his antennae still. "Need...Plankton," he murmurs. The gibberish isn't uncommon during these episodes, his mind trying to find comfort in familiar concepts. Plankton's eye, still unfocused and glazed, continues to dart around the room. "Yes?" he murmurs again, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're okay," Karen says firmly, her voice a gentle anchor in the storm of sensory chaos. "We're all here for you." Chip nods in agreement, his voice shaky but determined. "Just breathe, Da-" But Plankton's grip on his sanity is slipping. His words come out in a jumble, nonsensical. "Wash... blue...cuckoo?" his voice is a distant echo, his mind searching for comfort in familiar things. Karen's heart aches, her thumb rubbing his hand. "It's okay, Plankton," she repeats. "You're safe." Chip watches, his eyes brimming with tears. He doesn't understand what's happening, but he knows his dad needs them.

ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵂᵒʳᵈˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱᶠ ᵇᵒʳᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ!” ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒʳᵉᵈ ᶜᵃˢʰⁱᵉʳ‧ “ᴮᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ!” ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ “ᴮᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ! ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵃᵐᵒᵘⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ! ᴴᵒⁿᵉˢᵗˡʸ ⁿᵒ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ʷⁱˡˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ; ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ! ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵐᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ʳⁱˢᵉʳ ⁿᵒʳ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒʷˡ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵘᵖ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵘⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ, ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵘⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵃᵐˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴶ…” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖ, ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ!” “ᴮᵘᵗ ᵈᵒ…” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉ, ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵒ ᵃʷᵃʸ!” ᴴᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖʳⁱᵛᵃᶜʸ‧‧” ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢʰᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˢ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ʷᵉˡˡ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ, ᵒᶜᶜᵘᵖⁱᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵃⁱˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ, ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵘᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ˢʰᵉ’ᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳ ᶜᵃᵘᵗⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ, ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵈᵃᵐᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ‘ᴼʰ’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵘᵗˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ, ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ, ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ‧ “ᴵ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ…” “…ᶠⁱⁿᵉ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ “ᴬⁿʸ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ?” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ ‘ᴳʳᵉᵃᵗ’ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ “ᴺᵒ, ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ…” “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧‧” ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵗⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ!” “ᵂᵉˡˡ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵖᵒᵒᵈˡᵉ?” “ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰʸ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ, ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ?” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵉᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ’ˢ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ! ᴬⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱˡˡ!” ᴬⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ’ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ! ‘ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵈᵃʸ ʲᵒᵇˢ, ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ’ˢ‧ “ᴷʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᴾᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱˡˡ‧‧” ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ, ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵃˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ˢᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʷˡⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵃˢᵉ‧ ‘ᴰⁱᵈ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ?’ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰʸ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵖ ˡᵒʷ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! “ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ!” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵉˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ “ᴺᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈ, ⁿᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ!” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐˢ ᵒᵘᵗ, ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ‘ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧‧’ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ, ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᶠᵘˡ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ?” “ᴵ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ, ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ!” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ᵐ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ’ᵛᵉ ʳᵃⁿ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧ “ᔆᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ, ᵖⁱᵖˢᑫᵘᵉᵃᵏ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡᵉʸ‧ “ᴵ…” “ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵇᵃᵇʸ! ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒˢᵗ? ᵂᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵇʸᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʷᵉ’ˡˡ ᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴳᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ… “…ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ‧ “ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ‧ “ᴺᵒ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ, ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ‘ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ⁿᵒʷ…’ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ’ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ “ᴴⁱ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧” ᴴᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᵀʰᵉ ᵍᵃⁿᵍ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃʳᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ, ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵏᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ “ᴸᵒᵒᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ⁱⁿᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ “ᵀʳᵘᵗʰ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ, ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ!” ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽” ᔆʰᵉ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐˢ‧ “ᴴⁱ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵒᵒˡⁱˢʰⁿᵉˢˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!” ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ‧‧” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ʸᵉˢ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ‧ “ᴬˡˡ’ˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧” ✧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟗𝟖𝟗

COMPUTER SENSORS ii * * ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * "Plankton?" Hanna's voice called. "You've been in there for a while." But there was no response from the bedroom. Karen's smile faded as she heard the silence. She knew her husband well enough to recognize when he'd reached his limit. She excused herself and went to check. Plankton was indeed on the bed, his eye squeezed shut. His body was rigid breathing shallow. Karen ached for him; she knew he was in the throes of sensory overload. Karen approached the bed gently, not wanting to startle him. She sat down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Plankton," she said softly. "You ok?" He didn't move, didn't speak. He just lay there, a tense coil of discomfort. Karen knew to recognize the signs of his overwhelm. The way he curled tightly around his body, the shallow breaths that spoke of his struggle to regain control. He was in his own world now, one where the bombardment of Hanna's sounds and touch had become too much. "Plankton," she said again, her voice a gentle whisper in the room. "You don't have to be out there if you don't want to." The touches, the sounds, Hanna— all too much. Karen's expression filled with understanding. "It's alright," she assured him, her hand gently rubbing his back. "You don't have to force it." Plankton nodded, his body slowly relaxing under her touch. He let out a sigh. Karen knew Plankton's not one for crowded spaces or unexpected physical contact. "Hey, guys, everything ok in here?" Hanna's voice was cheerful, but there was a hint of concern that had crept in. She searched the room, her gaze landing on Plankton's rigid form. Her smile faltered for a second, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. "Is he ok?" "He's... overwhelmed," Karen said. She knew Hanna didn't mean any harm, but she also knew her friend's boundless enthusiasm could be to much for Plankton to handle. Hanna's expression grew more puzzled. "What's there to be overwhelmed about?" Her curiosity piqued. "What's going on with you Plankton?" she asked, taking a step closer to the bed. Plankton jolted slightly, but he remained silent, eye still closed. "I don't get it.." Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Plankton's a bit... sensitive to stimulation," she began. "He needs his quiet time. Nothing against you, Hanna; just how he is." Hanna grew more concerned. "But I didn't mean to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to have a good time." Karen patted Plankton's shoulder, her screen never leaving his face. "It's not you, Hanna," she assured. "It's just that to much noise, touch, all just gets to be to much for him." "How?" "Some people need more space than others. It's not a reflection on you or your company." "But I don't get it," Hanna said, her voice quiet. "What did I do?" "You didn't do anything wrong," Karen assured her, her hand still resting on Plankton's shoulder. "It's just that Plankton's sensory input is overwhelmed easily." Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton, full of questions. "But I didn't do anything weird; did I?" "No," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "It's just that Plankton isn't much... physical affection from anyone but me. And even then, it's on his terms." Hanna's expression softened, starting to reach out to gently touch Plankton's arm. "Don't," Karen said, placing a hand over hers to stop her. Hanna's hand hovered in mid-air, and she looked at Karen with confusion. Karen took a deep breath. "Plankton needs his space to recharge. And when it comes to physical touch, it's something that's... it's not something he's comfortable with, from just anyone." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "But, you?" "We've found a balance that works for us. But it's something that took time to figure out. And even then, there are days when he needs more space than usual." Hanna nodded. "But he didn't say anything," she murmured. "I didn't know." "It's not something he talks about. He tries to be strong, to handle it, but sometimes it's just to much for him." "Why does he not flinch if you touch him, if it's sensory?" Hanna asked. Karen sighed. "It's complicated. I've known him for a long time, and we've built a level of trust. He's comfortable with my touch. But even then, it's a balancing act of knowing when he needs more and or when he needs less." Hanna nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she took a step back from the bed. "I had no idea," she murmured. "How long does it take for him to..." "It varies," Karen said. "Sometimes it's just minutes, other times can be hours." "Is he going to remember us talking right now?" Hanna asked. "It's hard to say," Karen replied, her gaze still on Plankton. "When he's like this, he's kind of... in his own world. Sometimes he's aware, sometimes he's not. It's like he's not present. The best thing is to just give him space," Karen said. "Let him come out of it on his own time. Sometimes talking to him helps, but not always." Hanna nodded. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to make him feel included." Karen gave her a small, understanding smile. "It's alright, Hanna," she said. "You couldn't have known. Just remember, Plankton needs space, and for us to respect that." Hanna nodds, her gaze still on Plankton. "So, how does he act coming out of it?" "It depends," Karen said, her hand still on Plankton's shoulder. "Sometimes he's a bit groggy, other times he's just... tired. And sometimes he's a bit snappy." "What will he remember?" "Probably not much," Karen said, her voice low. "When he's like this, the world kind of... washes over him. He might remember snippets, but it's all pretty fuzzy." Hanna nods. "How do I show him I care?" "Just being a friend—that means the world to him. But sometimes, the best way to show you care is to give him the space he needs." "But I don't want him to think I'm ignoring him." "You're not," Karen assured her, her voice gentle. "Just be mindful of his own boundaries. Sometimes a simple 'How are you feeling?' or even showing interests in his likes, can mean more than any hug. It's a condition where the brain can't process all the information coming in from the senses at once. It's like your brain's circuits are overloaded, and you just... shut down." Hanna nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she took this in. "Is it ok if I can ask Plankton questions about it?" "Of course," Karen said, her voice gentle. "But just be mindful. He might not be up for a lot of talking, especially right now." Hanna took a deep breath and approached, her movements slow and deliberate. "Plankton?" He didn't respond, his body still taut with tension. Hanna looked to Karen for guidance, who offered a smile. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. "Can you hear me?" There was no response, but Karen could feel the tension in his body ease slightly. She knew he was listening, even if he couldn't bring himself to respond. "Plankton's born with a condition called sensory sensitivity," Karen began, her voice calm and measured. "It means that his brain has trouble interpreting and responding to all sensory information from his environment. It can be anything from sounds to touch." "So, like, when we were watching the movie, and I was all over the place with my feelings, that was probably a bit much for him?" "Exactly," Karen said, her voice gentle. "Everything's just... too much for him sometimes." Hanna's eyes searched Plankton's face, looking for any sign of discomfort. "But he didn't say any thing," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "He tries not to," Karen said, her eyes never leaving her husband. "He doesn't like to make a fuss. But when it gets to be too much, he just kind of... shuts down." "But how do you know when it's too much?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "It's subtle," Karen said, her eyes still on Plankton. "He'll get tense, his breathing will change, bad mood, his eye might glaze over a bit. And when he gets really overwhelmed, he just... withdraws." "So, I shouldn't have grabbed his hand during the movie?" she asked, her voice filled with regret. "It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "You didn't know. Just remember for next time." Hanna nodded. "But what if I miss the signs?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "We're all learning. Just remember to be patient and pay attention. And if you're ever unsure, just ask." Hanna nodded, her hand now resting gently on the bed next to Plankton. "I'm sorry Plankton," she whispered. He didn't move, but Karen could see the tension in his body start to ease a bit more. She knew he heard Hanna, even if he couldn't respond. "Don't worry, Plankton," Hanna said, her voice gentle. "I'll be more careful next time. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Karen watched as Plankton's antennae slowly twitched, his breathing evening out as he began to come back to the world around him. It's a slow process, one Karen knew well. She gave Hanna a nod, a silent thank you for her understanding. "Why don't you go grab us board games, Hanna?" Karen suggested, voice low. "Give him a few to 'wake up'." Hanna nodded, her gaze lingering on Plankton before she turned and left the room. Karen watched the door close behind her before turning her attention back to Plankton. "It's ok, Plankton," she whispered, stroking his arm. "You're safe here."

They found themselves in the bustling lobby of the ocean's most renowned medical center, the Coral Reef Clinic. "You'll be fine," Karen assured, voice steady. "They're the best in the sea." Finally, a nurse called. She gave an encouraging smile. "I'll be right here. You're not in this alone." The doctor examined Plankton's throat. "My Plankton," he said, "you need a tonsillectomy." A tonsillectomy? The thought of surgery was more terrifying than facing SpongeBob and Patrick combined. But he nodded. "Okay," he whispered. The doctor explained the procedure Plankton nodded along. Karen listened intently. The doctor assured them it was a common procedure and that Plankton would be in good hands. Karen packed a bag with his favorite blanket and a few snacks, trying to keep her own anxiety in check. "Ready?" she asked, voice filled with forced cheerfulness. Plankton took a breath and nodded. Karen gave him a reassuring smile, and together they set off for the clinic. Once they arrived, Plankton was immediately whisked to a pre-op room. The nurse explained the process again. Karen stayed by his side, in silent support. The anesthetic began, and the world grew fuzzy around the edges. The last thing Plankton heard was the doctor's calming voice. "You're going to be just fine, Plankton. We'll take good care of you." Then, everything went dark. When he woke up, the world was a whirl. His throat felt as though someone had stuffed it with seaweed. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it was made of jelly. Plankton blinked slowly, struggling to focus. Karen chuckled softly. "That's the anesthesia, Plankton. It'll wear off soon." The nurse adjusted his pillows and offered him water. The cool liquid trickled down his throat, soothing. Plankton took a moment to settle before speaking again. "Did it...did it work?" "They got 'em out, Plankton. Your tonsils are no more." Plankton's eye widened. "Really?" Karen nodded again, smile growing. "Yes, really. You're on the mend now." Plankton's eye searched the room, still cloudy from the anesthesia. He spotted his favorite blanket folded neatly at the hospital bed. "Did you bring that?" he asked, voice slurred. "Of course," Karen said, her tone warm and soothing. "I knew it would make you feel better." The nurse, noticing his confusion, leaned in closer. "The anesthesia can make you feel a bit loopy for a while, it's completely normal." Plankton nodded, his movements slow and deliberate. "So, these are the... used to...to take them out?" Karen nodded, trying not to smile at his bewildered state. "They're just tools, Plankton. You won't remember anything. It's all over now." He blinked again, his eyelid feeling heavier than ever. "But...but how will I eat?" he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don't worry," Karen said, stroking his forehead gently. "They'll start you on a soft diet, like algae smoothies." Plankton's eye drooped, a lazy grin spread across his face. "Algae...smoothies? Sounds...sounds delightful." His words trailed off, his eyelid grew heavy. Karen watched as he drifted to sleep. Despite his usual scheming ways, she knew he was good at heart. And she was determined to be there for him, every step of the way. As he slept, she took his hand in hers, gently stroking his arm. The nurse gave her a knowing look. "He'll be out for a few hours," she said softly. "Why don't you go get some fresh air?" Karen nodded, giving Plankton's hand a final squeeze before letting go. She made her way to the waiting area, thoughts swirling like the currents outside. The surgery had been a success, but the road to recovery would be a long one. She hoped he'd be ok. Plankton was still sleeping, breathing even. She looked over at him, his tiny form swaddled in the blanket. The room was quiet, save for the occasional beep of the heart monitor and the distant sound of water gently lapping against the shore. Karen leaned over and whispered, "Plankton, can you hear me?" He stirred slightly, eye fluttering open. "Karen?" croaked his voice barely audible. "I'm here. How do you feel?" Plankton's eye searched hers with a dull weariness. "Tired," he murmured. "But...it's gone?" "Yes, gone. You're going to start feeling better." The nurse, noticing Plankton awake, came over to check on him. She adjusted the monitors and took his vitals, confirming that everything was as it should be. "Looks like you're all set to go home," she said with a smile. "But remember, take it easy for the next few days." Karen lit up at the news. She gathered things, eager to get Plankton out and back to the comfort of the cafe. The nurse helped him into a wheelchair, and they began the journey to the exit. Once outside, the sun begun its descent. Karen pushed the wheelchair slowly, not wanting to jar him too much on the cobblestone path leading to their underwater vehicle. Plankton squinted against the light, eye still adjusting. Their ride home was quiet, the hum of the engine lulling Plankton to a doze. When they pulled into the cafe's docking area, Plankton stirred, his eye blinking open. They reached the small living area, and Karen helped Plankton into his favorite chair, tucked his blanket around him, making sure he was comfortable. He looked up at her with a tired smile, his eye shimmering with gratitude. "Thank you, Karen," he whispered, voice hoarse from the surgery. "No need to thank me," she replied, fussing over him. "I'm just happy you're ok." Plankton's eye searched hers, confusion swirling. "But...what happened?" "You had your tonsillectomy, Plankton remember?" Plankton's eye searched hers, the confusion deepening. "No," he croaked. "The last thing I remember is...being in pain." Karen's heart squeezed at the distress in his voice. "You don't remember the surgery?" Plankton shook his head, his eye wide with shock. "No, it's all...fuzzy. What happened?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Well, you went into surgery, and the doctors removed your tonsils. You've been asleep for a few hours." Plankton's eye grew wide. "Asleep?" he squeaked. "How could I have not known?" Karen nodded, stroking his arm gently. "It's the anesthesia.." Plankton's mind reeled, trying to piece together the events of the last few hours. Everything was a blur, a series of disjointed images and sounds that didn't quite make sense. He remembered the doctor's. But the surgery? It was as if it had never happened. He looked over at Karen. She had a smile on her face, as if she could read his thoughts. "You were out like a light," she said, voice soothing. "What's with the blanket?" "It's for your comfort," Karen said. "You're going to need to rest your voice." Plankton leaned back in the chair, eye drifting closed again. "I feel so...so peculiar," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Like I've been swimming in a sea of bubbles." Karen chuckled. "It's anesthesia," she said. "You're acting like you've had one too many jellyfish jams." "Everything's spinning," he slurred, his speech still not quite right. Karen couldn't help but laugh with amusement. "Plankton. It'll wear off soon enough." Plankton's eye grew wide, and he tried to sit up, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. "Karen, I think...I think I'm floating," he said with wonder. Karen couldn't help but laugh. "You're not floating, Plankton. You're just still a bit out of it from anesthesia." "I swear, I can feel the bubbles!" Plankton giggled, his eye trying to follow invisible orbs floating in the air. His movements grew more exaggerated. "Look, Karen I'm swimming!" "Plankton, you're not floating," she said, her voice a gentle tease. "You're safe and sound." He looked at her with a goofy grin, eye still glazed over. "But I feel so...so light," he said, his voice trailing off into a giggle. "Like I could float." Karen couldn't help but smile at his silliness. It was a stark contrast to the fear and anxiety that consumed him earlier. "You're not going anywhere, Plankton," she said. "You need rest." "It's just...it's all so weird," he murmured, eye drifting shut again. "You're just tired," Karen said, her voice soothing. "Why don't you take a little nap?" Without another word, Plankton's eye slid shut, body slack. Karen watched him, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. She knew for now, he was at peace. Karen pulled the blanket up to his chin. She didn't want to leave his side. As hours passed, Plankton's snores grew softer. The sun sank below the horizon. Karen felt tension ease as she watched him sleep. When Plankton finally stirred again, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon through the windows. His eye blinked open, free of the anesthesia's haze. He looked around, his gaze settling on Karen. "Where...where am I?" Karen sat up. "You're home, Plankton," she said, voice gentle. "You had your tonsillectomy today." Confusion swam in Plankton's eye as he took in his surroundings. He felt a dull ache in his throat, a stark reminder of the day's events. "Home?" he croaked. Karen nodded. "You've been sleeping for a while," she said, her voice a gentle caress. "How do you feel?" "Thirsty," he managed to croak. Karen was at his side. She held a glass of water to his mouth, and he took a tentative sip. The cool liquid soothed his throat, and he sighed with relief. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice quiet. "What...what happened?" "You had your tonsillectomy," Karen reminded him, her tone soothing. "You're going to be ok." Plankton nodded, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in. The fear replaced by a new sensation: relief. ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷,𝟼𝟸𝟷

ᔆʰᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᴸᵉᵍ ♡ Wₒᵣd cₒᵤₙₜ ₋ ₆₅₇ ♡ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‽" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ⁿᵉᵖᵗᵘⁿᵉ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˡᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ⁿᵒʳ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ˢʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇˡᵘⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ‧ ᴰᵉᵉᵖ ˢᶜʳᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ "ᴼʰ ᵈᵉᵃʳ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗʳᵉᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇ⁻ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍ⁻ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᵃ⁻ᵃⁿᵈ ʰ⁻ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵐ⁻ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍ ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗˢ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢ⁻ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ; ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡʸ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ˡᵃˣ⸴ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʰᵃᶻʸ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ⸴ ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ᵇʸ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵇᵘᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ; ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗᵒʳˢ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵁʳʳᵍʰ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵁⁿʰ ʷʰᵉ⁻ʷʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃ⁻ ʰᵃᵖ⁻ᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ?" "ᴼʰ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᵍˢ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵘˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃˢᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʰⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʸᵉˡᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵉᵃˢʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧" "ᴼʰ; ˢᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ᵏⁱᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵘⁿʳᵉˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗˢ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵒᵘᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ; ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ; ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵉˡˡ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ˢʰᵉᵉᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᴳᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳⁱᵇᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵈʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵘⁿʳᵃᵛᵉˡˢ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ʰᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵖᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁿᵒʳ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ!"

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 21 Chip took a step back, his eyes still on the floor. He felt a heavy weight in his chest, a mixture of sadness and determination. He knew he had made a mistake, but he was also aware that this could be a chance for him to learn and show his dad that he truly cared. Karen sat beside Plankton, her hand resting on his shoulder. "Why don't you tell us what you need right now?" she asked softly. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "I need...I need to be al-" "Alone?" Chip filled in, his voice gentle. "But Dad, we want to be here for you. I won't le-" Plankton's antennae whipped around, his eye narrowing. "Oh, I know," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Because you're just so good at understanding, right?" His tone was biting, a sharp contrast to the usual softness in his voice. Chip flinched at the harshness, his own feelings of inadequacy rising to the surface. "Dad, I'm tr-" But Plankton continued, his words coming out in a rush. "You think you know, but you don't. You don't know what it's like to have the world crash down on you every minute of every day, to be bombarded with sounds and smells that are too much, too intense." His antennae twitched erratically. "And then you come in with your 'let's talk about it' and 'let me see' and 'let me do it with you' and you think that's going to fix me?" The sarcasm in his voice was palpable, his antennae drooping with frustration. "You think I want to be a science project for you to study?" Plankton's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I'm not broken, Chip. I'm just different. And any stims, they're not for you to copy or understand or even acknowledge. They're mine, SOLELY mine!" Karen watched the exchange unfold, her heart aching for both her husband and son. Plankton was hurting, and his defensiveness was a clear sign of it. She knew his stims were a private, sacred part of who he was, and she saw Chip's desire to bridge the gap. But she knew when Plankton was like this, that it was time to let him be. "Why don't you go to your room, Chip?" she suggested gently. "Let your dad have some space." Chip nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. He couldn't bear to see his dad in pain, but he knew that pushing would only make things worse. With a heavy heart, he turned and walked out of the room, his feet feeling like lead. Karen watched him go, her gaze then shifting back to Plankton. Plankton's antennae still twitched. Karen moved closer to him. "It's ok, sweetie," she murmured. "I'm here." He leaned into her touch, his body slowly relaxing. Her words were a balm, soothing his raw nerves. A week after Plankton's completely healed from wisdom teeth, he no longer having mouth discomfort. One evening Karen hangs up her phone from her friend Hanna. She lives far away, and they'll take a trip to stay and visit with her. Neither Plankton nor Chip met Hanna before. Hanna knows Karen's married to Plankton, but she doesn't know about his autism. Karen breaks the news gently. "Boys," she says, "We're visiting Hanna tomorrow. It's gonna be a day long drive and we need to pack. We'll be staying at her place!" Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye darting around the room as he processes this sudden change of plans. The thought of traveling, of new smells and sounds, sends a shiver of anxiety through his body. "Now?" he asks, his voice tight. "But we...I need to prepare." Karen nods, her voice soothing. "We'll leave early, so we have time to get everything ready." She moves closer to him, her hand on his shoulder. "We'll pack together." Plankton takes a deep breath, his antennae twitching with the effort to calm down. "Okay," he says. "Okay." He starts to pack, his movements methodical. Everything has its place, his suitcase organized with precision. Karen and Chip watch, knowing better than to interrupt. They've learned that when Plankton's in this mode, it's best to let him be. Karen also gets the special sensory bag for Plankton. His fidget toys and noise-canceling blindfold curtains are carefully placed in the bag. Chip decides to pack some favorite science books as Karen observes them, her heart swelling with pride and hope. Chip's come so far in understanding of Plankton's needs, not to mention their shared love for scientific trivia. Plankton, noticing Chip's packing, approaches with more books for their trip. "Here," he says, his voice slightly less tense. The next morning, Karen gets up early. They'll spend most of the day on the road and wanted to get a good head start. So she wakes Chip up first. "Chip," she whispers, shaking him gently. "Time to get going for our trip." Chip opens his eyes, sleepy but excited. He jumps out of bed, eager to start the day. Plankton, on the other hand, is still asleep. Karen approaches his side, her gaze soft. She knows waking him up can be tough, especially with his sensory issues. Gently, she places her hand on his shoulder. "Plankton," she whispers, keeping her voice low and even. "Wake up, sweetie. We're leaving for Hanna's soon." Plankton's antennae twitch slightly at the touch, his eye fluttering open. "We're leaving soon," Karen repeats. He nods, his body still stiff with sleep. She moves to the side, giving him space to sit up. Karen's going to drive and has Plankton's sensory bag in the front seat by her, so Plankton sits with Chip in the back.

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 22 As they start the car and the engine rumbles to life, Plankton's hand starts to move in a repetitive motion, his thumb and forefinger tapping against each other. It's a stim. Karen's eyes meet Chip's, and she gives a small nod. "Remember, buddy," she says over her shoulder. "Just let him be." Chip nods, his eyes going back to his dad. Plankton's gaze is fixed on the passing scenery. Chip watches, his curiosity piqued but his respect for boundaries keen. He's learned so much about his dad's autism in the past weeks, but he knows there's still so much more to understand. The car's hum is a comforting white noise, and Chip can see the tension slowly draining from his father's body. Plankton's eye darts to the side, watching the trees blur by. Chip follows his gaze, seeing the world. "Dad," he says softly. "Can we see the science book together?" He holds it up, the one his dad had packed. Plankton's stimming pauses. He considers it, his antennae twitching. "Okay," he finally says, his voice a little softer. They spend time in quiet companionship, their heads bent over the pages, silently reading facts. Chip feels a warmth in his chest, a feeling of connection growing stronger with each page turned. The car's steady motion combined with the gentle hum of the engine begins to lull Plankton into a drowsy state. His antennae droop slightly, his eye blinking slower, and his breathing deepens. Karen glances in the rearview mirror, a smile touching her lips. She knows this look well. Plankton's autism often made him sensitive to the world, but now, with the familiar routine of the road trip and the soothing environment they've created, his body was finally letting go of the tension as Plankton's eye begins to drift shut. Chip felt his dad's weight shifting against him, his head coming to rest on his shoulder. The steady rhythm of the car's motion was a gentle lullaby to Plankton's overstimulated brain. His hand, which had been tapping out a steady rhythm, stilled. His antennae drooped low, his eye fluttering closed. Chip watched him, his heart swelling with a mix of love and sadness. It was rare to see Plankton so relaxed, his usual stoic exterior giving way to vulnerability. Karen kept her eyes on the road, a soft smile playing on her lips. She knew this was a victory, a sign that their efforts to create a safe space for Plankton were working. The trip was going better than she had dared hope. Chip felt a gentle pressure against his arm as Plankton's head grew heavier. He adjusted his position, careful not to disturb his dad. The book lay forgotten between them, their silent bond stronger than words. He watched as his dad's breathing grew deep and even, his antennae finally still. Karen glanced back again, her smile growing wider. "Looks like we've got a snoozing scientist," she whispered, hearing Plankton's gentle snores. Chip grinned, his own worries slipping away as he felt his dad's body relax against him. The road ahead was long, but the car was filled with a newfound peace. Plankton's snores grew softer as the miles ticked by. When they finally pulled up to Hanna's house, Plankton remained asleep, his body relaxed against Chip's side. Karen turned to look at them, her heart full. "Looks like he had a good nap," she murmured to Chip. Chip nodded, smiling down at his dad. "Yeah," he whispered. "I'm gonna miss this when we get out of the car. How are we gonna tell him we're here?" Karen chuckled softly. "We'll just have to wake him up gently, buddy." She opened her door, the crunch of gravel underfoot. The cool evening air was a stark contrast to the warmth of the car, and Plankton's antenna twitched as his eyebrow furrowed. "Hey, Plankton," Karen said softly, gently shaking him as she closes her car door. "We're here, sweetie." Plankton's eye snapped open, his antennae springing to life. For a moment, confusion clouded his gaze before it cleared, and he sat up with a jolt. "Oh," he murmured, looking around. "Hanna's?" Chip nodded, his smile gentle. "Yeah. We're here." Plankton realized he'd fallen asleep not only in front of Chip, but also leaning on him. Embarrassment flitted across his face, and he quickly sat up as he pulled away. Karen got their suitcases and Plankton's sensory bag in her grasp. The front door opened, and Hanna's bubbly figure emerged, lighting up at the sight of Karen. "Karen!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to give her a warm hug. "It's been so long! And is this your family?" Hanna asks as she let them in, closing the front door behind. Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye wide as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. The sight of a different house, the sound of Hanna's excited voice, it was all to much. Karen nods. "Yes, my husband, Plankton, and our son, Chip." Hanna's smile broadens as she embraces Plankton in a tight hug. "So nice to finally meet you," she says, her eyes shining with excitement. Plankton's antennae flatten against his head, the sudden contact overwhelming. He swallows hard, his body stiffening. "Nice t-to meet y-you t—too," he mumbles, his eye darting to Karen for rescue. Karen laughs lightly, gently extricating Plankton from Hanna's enthusiastic embrace. "Why don't we get settled?" she suggests, guiding Plankton to the couch. "And you're quite the young man!" Hanna exclaims to Chip. "Hi Ms. Hanna," Chip says.

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 24 "Coko, coo," Plankton murmurs, his eye unfocused, his antennae quivering slightly. Karen squeezes his hand tighter, trying to ground him. "Remember, we're at Hanna's." Chip's eyes widen, hearing his dad's strange speech. "What's coko?" he whispers to his mom. Karen smiles softly. "It's okay, Chip. Sometimes during a seizure, his speech gets...scrambled." Plankton's hand reaches out, searching for something to anchor him. "Go," he says. "The...the... the...what's called?" He's trying to find the words. "The...cow," he says decidedly. "Cow?" Plankton giggles, repeating himself. "Cow!" "It's okay, Plankton," Karen says gently. "You're just trying to find your words." Chip watches, his eyes filled with confusion. "But why is he talking like that?" he asks, his voice low. Karen's eyes are filled with compassion as she explains. "It's part of the seizure, Chip. His brain is firing differently, mixing things up." Plankton's giggle turns into a full laugh, his body shaking slightly. "Cow," he repeats, his voice louder now. Karen and Chip exchange a concerned look, but Karen smiles gently, knowing this phase can pass quickly. "Remember, Plankton, we're at Hanna's. You're okay." Plankton nods, his laugh fading into a smile as his gaze locks onto the spinning ceiling fan. "Fan," he murmurs, his hand moving to mimic its motion. "Fan-ny fanny fan." Karen knows he's trying to make sense of the world again, and she's here to help guide him back. "That's right," she says, keeping her voice steady. "It's a fan." Chip watches, his curiosity piqued but his concern foremost. He's knew not to laugh at his dad's strange speech, but it's hard not to find some humor in the absurdity of the moment. "Fan-ny," Plankton repeats, his voice taking on a sing-song quality. "The cow, says meow." Karen chuckles, her heart warming at the nonsensical sentences. It's a sign his brain is trying to reconnect, to make sense of the world again. "No, Plankton," she corrects gently. "The fan doesn't say meow. It's ju—" But she's interrupted by Hanna, who comes in to check on them. "Hey guys! So, what's the plan for movie night?" Her cheerfulness is a stark contrast to the scene she's walked in on. Plankton's laughter grows louder, his eye glazed over. Hanna's smile falters, her eyes wide with worry. "Is he okay?" she asks, stepping closer, confused. Karen knew Plankton's not gonna want Hanna to find out about his autistic neurodisability. "It's just something he does," Karen says quickly, as Plankton starts to crawl. "He'll be fine in a bit." Hanna watches as drool starts to dribble from the corner of Plankton's mouth. "What's happening?" she asks, her voice laced with concern. "It's like he's in a dream state, or someth-" Her words are drowned out by Plankton's chuckle, his body wriggling on the floor. "Cow!" he exclaims. Karen knew he's gonna come out of it soon, and she didn't want Hanna to be in his personal space right now. "Why don't we give a bit more time?" she suggests, her tone remaining calm. "We'll be ready for movies soon." Hanna nods, her smile forced. "Okay," she says, backing out of the room. The door closes, leaving them in privacy. Karen's heart thuds in her chest. She's seen this a hundred times, but it never gets easier. Plankton's eye blinks slowly, his antennae still. The room seems to come back into focus, the colors slowly solidifying from the blur they had been. "Karen?" he whispers, his voice hoarse. "I'm here," she says, her voice a comforting presence in the room. "You had a seizure, but you're okay now." Plankton's eye widens, his antennae shooting up. "Oh," he murmurs, his voice distant. He looks around the room, taking in the familiar yet foreign surroundings of Hanna's guest room. "What...were we talking? I feel like I was but I...I can't remember." Karen's hand is still clasped in his, her thumb continuing to rub his skin in a soothing pattern. "You were talking about a cow," she says with a small smile. "But it's okay. You're okay." Plankton's antennae droop slightly, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. "A cow?" He repeats, his voice still weak. "Did I... did I say anything else? And why the barnacles am I on the floor?" Karen laughs, her eyes twinkling with affection. "You got a bit overwhelmed," she says, her voice gentle. "But you're okay now." Plankton nods, his antennae slowly rising. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mean to-" Karen shakes her head, her smile warm. "Don't apologize, Plankton. It's just part of who you are." She helps him to his feet, her arms supporting him. "Let's get you cleaned up." Chip watches, his heart still racing. He's seen his dad like this before, but it never gets easier. He wants to help, but he's learned that sometimes, the best thing to do is just be present. Karen leads Plankton to the bathroom, her arm around his waist, his hand in hers. "Let's get you cleaned up," she says, guiding him gently. The cool water feels good on his face, the sensation helping to ground him. Karen wipes his mouth with a washcloth, her movements careful and precise. He leans into her touch, his body craving the predictability. "Thank you," he murmurs. Karen hands him a towel, her gaze understanding. "You're welcome," she says. "Remember, Plankton, you're not alone in this." Karen leads Plankton and Chip to the living room where Hanna's waiting for them. "Are you okay?" Hanna asks, her eyes filled with concern. Plankton nods, his antennae twitching. "Of course," he says matter-of-factly. "Why wouldn't I be?" Hanna's gaze lingers on his still-flushed cheeks, his slightly unfocused eye. "You just...you seemed out of it," she says, her voice tentative. Plankton's antennae quiver, his mind racing. "What are you talking about?" He asks Hanna, glaring at her. "You know, when you were laughing and talking about cows," Hanna says, her eyes still wide with concern. "And drooling a bit." Plankton's face reddens, his antennae springing up. Karen jumps in, her voice calm. "It's just a little quirk, Hanna," she says with a smile. "He's fine. Now, about that movie night?" Hanna nods, her expression still slightly puzzled, but she lets it go. "Right! Let's get cozy!" She says, clapping her hands together. Plankton sits back down on the couch, his antennae twitching as he tries to regain his composure. He knows he can't let his condition define him, but sometimes it's so hard to keep up the façade. He's grateful for Karen's quick thinking, for Chip's quiet support. Hanna starts setting up the board games, her energy seemingly boundless. Plankton's eye flits around the room, taking in the colors and the clutter. He can feel his anxiety building, his thoughts racing. But he takes a deep breath. "Do you want to play?" Hanna asks, her smile wide. "Sure," Plankton responds, his voice steady despite his inner turmoil. Chip and Karen knew of his competitive spirit.. The game starts, and Plankton's stims return. His fingers move over the armrest. "What's with your hands?" Hanna asks, watching Plankton's hand move. "It's okay, Hanna," Karen jumps in, her tone calm. "It's just something he does." She doesn't elaborate further, not wanting to make a big deal of it. But Hanna's curiosity is piqued. She's never seen anyone act like this before. Plankton's eye darts to his hand, his antennae twitching. He feels the weight of Hanna's gaze, his cheeks flushing. Karen squeezes his hand, her silent support reassuring. Hanna's eyes wander from the game to Plankton's hands, then back to her cards. She's curious. Plankton feels the heat of her gaze, his stims intensifying. He tries to ignore it, focusing on the game. But every time he glances up, her eyes are on him, watching his hands move, her brow furrowed. It's unnerving, but her curiosity doesn't wane. "So, what's the deal with the hand thing?" Hanna asks finally, unable to hold back. Plankton's antennae snap straight up, his hand stalling mid-stim. "What hand thing?" he says, his voice sharp. Karen's grip on his hand tightens, a silent warning. Hanna's eyes widen at his tone. "I just meant, why do you...you know, move your hands like that? What does it do for yo-" "It's none of your concern!" Plankton snaps, his antennae waving agitatedly. Karen's eyes dart between Hanna's shocked expression and Plankton's flushed face. She can feel the tension in the room spike. "Plankton, maybe we should-" But Plankton cuts her off, his voice rising. "I don't have to explain myself to her!" He says, his antennae waving wildly. Chip's heart sinks. He's seen his dad like this before, but it's always different, always worse when it's in front of someone new. Hanna's face falls, her smile replaced with hurt. "I'm just trying to understand," she says, her voice small. "I didn't mea-" But Plankton's not listening. "It's none of your business," he repeats, his voice cold. Karen's heart sinks. She knew this was going to happen, that Plankton's stress would boil over into something unpleasant. "Plankton," she starts, but he shakes his head, his eye focused on the game now. "I don't owe anyone explanations," he says, his hand resuming its erratic movements. Hanna's eyes fill with unshed tears, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to-" But Plankton's attention is fully on the game, his stims more pronounced than ever. Karen sighs, her heart aching for both Hanna and Plankton. She knows his behavior isn't intentional, but it's still painful to watch.

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i (Autistic author) "You know, Shel, just put yourself out there. You think to much! Just steal a patty from the krusty krab, and bring it back. No inventions, just believe. I'll wait out front." Karen says. Sheldon Plankton, whose ambition often outstripped his grasp, took a deep breath and nodded. It was a simple enough plan, he thought, and maybe, just maybe, it would be enough. For years he'd been trying to outsmart Mr. Krabs, crafting ingenious contraptions and elaborate schemes to swipe the Krabby Patty secret formula. Yet here he was, standing in the shadow of the gleaming neon sign of the Chum Bucket, his own restaurant, contemplating the unthinkable: a straight-up heist. He tiptoed to the Krabby Krab, eye darting back and forth for any signs of movement. Karen, ever the impatient one, was pacing back and forth outside the Chum Bucket. She had been waiting for what felt like an eternity. "What's taking him so long?" she murmured to herself, her frustration building. Meanwhile, Plankton took a final shaky breath and slid open the kitchen window, his heart racing. The scent of greasy fryers and salty ocean air filled his nostrils. He reached out, his tiny hand trembling, and snatched the Krabby Patty that lay unguarded on the counter. With the stolen patty in hand, Plankton's confidence grew. He had done it; the secret was within his grasp! He turned to leave, but his elation was cut short when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to find Mr. Krabs standing there, his eyes narrowed and his claw raised. "Plankton, I knew it was you!" he bellowed. Plankton froze. Mr. Krabs lunged at him, but Plankton was quick. He dashed under the cash register, the Krabby Patty clutched to his chest like a football player crossing the finish line. "You'll never get me!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet restaurant. But Krabs was persistent, his claws snapping shut just millimeters from Plankton's antennae. With a cunning smile, Mr. Krabs stepped back eyeing the cash register. "Maybe not," he said reaching over the counter and hoisting the heavy metal contraption off its stand. Plankton's eye went wide with horror as he realized what Krabs intended to do. He tried to dodge, but the space was too cramped, and the cash register came down on him like a guillotine blade. The sound of metal on metal reverberated through the kitchen, and the Krabby Patty went flying out of his grasp. Mr. Krabs' victory roar filled the room as Plankton crumpled to the floor, stars dancing in his vision. The impact had been tremendous, and for a moment, he lay dazed and defeated. The cash register's heavy weight had not only knocked him out cold but also left a sizable dent in the floorboards. Outside, Karen's pacing grew more erratic. as "What's keeping him?" she groused. Just as she was about to storm inside, she hears the cash register, which hit Plankton's head. Peering in she saw Plankton lying on the floor. "Plankton?" she shrieked, her voice cracking with panic. Karen opens the door and goes to him. "Plankton! Oh no!" she screamed, voice shaking the very foundation of the Krabby Krab. She rushed over to him, shaking with fear. Plankton's eye closed, and his body was completely still. The Patty lay forgotten. Panic set in, and she began to pat his face. "Plankton, wake up!!" she yelled, echoing through the deserted kitchen. She knew that Plankton could be dramatic, but this was unlike him. He'd always bounced back from Mr. Krabs' traps before, albeit with a bruised ego. There was a pulse, faint but steady. "Thank Neptune," she whispered, her relief palpable. "Plankton, please," Karen begged, a mix of desperation and fear. She knew she had to do something, and fast. But what? Her medical expertise was limited to patching up her husband's bruises from past failed schemes, not dealing with a concussion from a cash register to the head. She then managed to scoop up her unconscious husband and sprinted to the Bikini Bottom Hospital. Once inside the hospital, she explained what happened with the cash register. "We'll do a brain scan." They said. Karen laid Plankton on the hospital bed. Finally a doctor approached with a solemn expression. "The brain scan results are in." Karen nodded for him to go on. "It seems your husband has suffered significant brain damage from impact," the doctor continued, fidgeting with a clipboard. "The good news is that he will wake up, but... your husband has experienced severe brain trauma. While he will regain consciousness, it appears that he may have developed permanent autism." "What does that mean?" she managed to whisper. The doctor explained that while Plankton would still be able to talk and/or communicate, his interactions and reactions to sensory would be significantly affected. "But he'll still be the same Plankton?" The doctor nods. "In many ways, yes. His personality, his memories, they should all be intact. But his ability to process, to understand and respond appropriately... those might be altered. It's a complex condition, Mrs. Plankton. He can go home whence he wakes up." Karen nodded numbly, mind racing with the implications. As she sat by Plankton's bedside the hospital lights flickered, and the constant beeping of the heart monitor was the only company she had. The quiet was broken her husband's eye fluttering open. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from the trauma. Her heart leaped at the sound, and she took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'm here," she said, her voice cracking. "How do you feel?" Plankton's gaze darted around the room. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and fear. "You're at the hospital, sweetie," Karen replied, voice gentle and soothing. "You had hit your head on the cash register at the Krabby Krab." Karen said, her voice shaking slightly. "Mr. Krabs hit you." Plankton blinked rapidly, trying to process her words. "Cash... register?" he murmured, voice sounding distant and confused. Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving his. The room was a cacophony of sounds: the beep of the monitor, the rustle of nurses' shoes, and the distant wail of a siren. Plankton's senses seemed to amplify, each noise stabbing at his brain like a thousand tiny needles. "What happened to me?" he asked, voice small and scared. Karen took a deep breath preparing herself to explain the gravity of the situation. "You hit your head," she began, "and now, the doctor says you have... acquired a neurodisability." Plankton stared at her, his eyes unfocused. "Neuro... what?" he repeated. Karen took a deep breath, her heart heavy. "It's like your brain is wired differently now. You might see things, hear things, feel things more intensely. And sometimes, you might not understand people, or process differently." "Does it... does it mean I'm broken?" he asked, voice barely a whisper. "No, Plankton," she said firmly, "You're not broken. You're just... different. And we'll figure this out together."

Dr. McDermott's dental office. Plankton had been in surgery for wisdom teeth. The receptionist, a young woman named "Samantha," was going up to Karen. "Your husband is to be taken to the recovery," she said, her voice gentle and soothing. Karen nodded. Samantha led her down. Plankton was laid out on a narrow bed, his mouth open slightly. "He's still under," Samantha whispered, "but going to start bringing him out of it now. Waking is a gradual process so.." Karen nodded. She watched as a nurse approached, deftly adjusting tubes and machines connected to him. The nurse flicked a switch and began to decrease the flow. The anesthesia diminished. Plankton's chest continued to rise and fall rhythmically, his eye remained closed. Karen reached out and took his hand, her thumb brushing against his. She squeezed gently, hoping it might provide some comfort, or at least a thread of familiarity, as he began his journey back to consciousness. A few moments later, Plankton's hand twitched ever so slightly in response. "It's ok honey," she whispered, though she knew he couldn't hear. A nurse, named Margaret, offered an assuring smile. "It's normal for it to take time. Just keep talking to him, it'll help." Karen leaned closer, her voice barely above a murmur. "Remember our first date?" she began. Plankton's snore was the only response. "Don't worry, he'll come around soon. Anesthesia can take a while to wear off. And when he does, he'll be groggy. It's like waking up from a deep sleep." Her thoughts drifted to Plankton's snoring, a comforting sound. She squeezed his hand again, trying to will him to wake with her touch. Then, to her surprise, she heard a murmur. "Mm, chum... so... much... chum..." The nurse, Margaret, gave her a knowing look. "It's common for patients to talk in their sleep as they come out of it. Sometimes they say the darndest things." Karen smiles. "Chum?" she repeated, "Is that what you're dreaming about?" "Needff... chum..." "You're ok," she whispered, her voice filled with relief. "You're just dreaming, sweetie." "Chum... I... I nee to... get ith," he slurred. Karen's smile grew, his nonsensical words bringing a small spark of comfort. "You're dreaming about work," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. The nurse, Margaret, checked the monitors and nodded. "His vitals look good. He'll be fine," she assured. "Remember the first time you made me a Patty?" she asked, her voice soothing. Plankton's grip on her hand tightened slightly, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. "Ith... Ith was’at..." he mumbled. It wasn't often she heard him express his feelings so openly, especially not about her. "What was it, honey?" she prompted, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Youw... youwre the... the besht... the... besht..." his voice trailed off again into snores. Karen chuckled with affection. It was clear he was talking about her, despite the garbled speech. She leaned in closer. "I'm right here," she whispered. Plankton's sleep-talk grew, his grip on her hand tightening. "Pro-tec... the secret... chum... fwom... Plankton..." "You're safe," she said, her voice a soothing whisper. "You don't have to worry about the recipe now." Plankton's slurred words continued. "Fwom... Plankton... ith... ith... my... my... hearth..." It was almost as if he was speaking to it, whispering sweet nothings in his sleep. "Your... your heart?" she repeated uncertainly, trying to make sense of his words. Plankton's chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, his hand still clutching hers tightly. A faint moan escaped Plankton's lips, and his eye began to flutter open. His eye searched the room, unfocused and glazed. He blinked slowly, a look of confusion spreading across his face. The nurse stood by, monitoring, ready to intervene if needed. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. She squeezed his hand tighter and leaned in, her voice as gentle as a lullaby. "Hi, sweetie. It's all over now. You're in the recovery room." Plankton's eye searched hers, still clouded with sleep. "Wha... wha' happen'd?" he managed to ask. "You had your wisdom teeth removed," Karen said softly. "You're ok now." Plankton's eye grew clearer as his mind slowly surfaced from the depths of unconsciousness. He blinked again, looking around the room. "Why... why awe youw smiling?" "You were talking in your sleep," she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice. "It was just sweet." Plankton's eye searched hers. "Wha'did I shay?" "You said a lot of things," she replied, her smile lingering. "But the most important part was that you said I was the best." The corner of Plankton's mouth twitched into a weak smile. "Yeah?" he murmured, his voice still slurred. "Well, thath's twue." With Margaret's help, Karen managed to get Plankton into a more upright position. His head lolled slightly before he found his bearings, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. "How do you feel?" Karen asked, her voice full of concern. "Woozy," Plankton mumbled. With Margaret's guidance, Karen helped Plankton to stand, his legs wobbly. He leaned heavily on her, the anesthesia still clouding his movements. She felt his weight and knew that he would need her support to navigate the short walk to the car. "Let's go slow," she said, her voice steady and calm. Plankton nodded, his eye still half-lidded with sleep. They shuffled along the hallway, each step a victory over his grogginess. As they approached the door leading to the parking lot, Plankton swayed. Karen tightened her grip, for his head lolled to the side, and she caught him. "Whoa, honey," she said. Plankton's legs buckled slightly, and his head dropped to her shoulder, his weight pressing against her. Karen steadied him, her arms wrapping around to keep him upright. His breathing was deep and even, eye fighting to stay open. "You can't sleep now," she said, trying to keep the laughter from her voice. "We're not even home yet." With Margaret's help, they made their way to the car, Karen's arm supporting Plankton's weight. "Let's get you buckled in," she said, guiding him to the passenger seat. Plankton complied, his movements still sluggish and uncoordinated. With a gentle push, Karen secured the seatbelt across his chest. His head lolled back against the headrest, and for a moment, she thought he might fall back asleep, but managed to keep his eye open as she starts the engine. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Plankton's eye drifted shut. "We're almost home." Karen says as Plankton's head lolled back against the headrest. She took a hand off the wheel to pat his leg reassuringly. "You can sleep when we get there." Yet Plankton's snores filled the car, punctuating the silence. Karen couldn't help but look over at him, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep. "Wake up, sweetie," Karen whispered, gently shaking Plankton. He stirred, his eye blinking open with difficulty. "We're home," she said. Plankton groaned. "Careful," she warned. They shuffled inside, Karen guiding him. The smell of home hit them, a mix of saltwater and the faint scent of cooking from the restaurant next door. "Come on, honey," she said, half-guiding, half-carrying him to their bedroom. Karen helped him lie downs. He let out a deep sigh. "Thathks," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Karen settled Plankton into bed, his head resting on the soft pillows, his body limp and heavy with the weight of the anesthesia. She took his other hand and squeezed gently. As they lay there, she noticed a small pool of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. Karen couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension of the day dissipating. She reached for a tissue from the bedside table and gently wiped the drool away. Plankton snuffled, his eye shooting open for a moment before closing again. "Don't worry," she whispered, stroking his forehead. "You're safe. You can go back to sleep now." Plankton's head lolled to the side, and drool grew more insistent, a silent testament to his deep slumber. Karen grabbed another tissue, wiping the saliva that trickled down his chin, his snores rumbling. With each tissue, the intimacy grew, the act of caring for him in this vulnerable state somehow endearing. She felt a tenderness for him that was usually overshadowed by their daily squabbles and the relentless pursuit of the Krabby Patty's secret recipe. As Plankton's snores grew softer, his grip on her hand loosened. Karen gently pulled her hand free and covered him with the blanket. She took a moment to gaze at his peaceful face. It was a side of him she rarely saw, and she found it surprisingly comforting. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the forehead, whispering, "I love you, even when you're drooling." Karen knew Plankton would be out for hours, so she decided to use the time to prepare a light meal for when he woke. She moved quietly to the kitchen, not wanting to disturb him. She rummaged, looking for something soft that wouldn't irritate his sore mouth. In the fridge, she found a bowl of Plankton's favorite jellyfish jello, a treat she had made the night before knowing he wouldn't be able to eat much solid food. Then, she pulled out a loaf of bread and a jar of jelly, carefully making a few soft, fluffy sandwiches that she hoped would be easy for him to chew. Next, she grabbed a few of Plankton's favorite books from the living room. She placed them on the bedside table, along with a glass of water, within arm's reach. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace settle over her as she listened to his rhythmic snores. Despite the stress of the day, she was grateful for the quiet moments like these.

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH vi "I... I just want to make sure he's ok," Krabs said. "He's not in a good place right now," Karen admitted. "Tell him... I didn't mean to embarrass him, that I'm sorry for... everything." "I'll let him know," she said. Heading into the bedroom she found Plankton fast asleep, his face a picture of peace amidst the chaos of his mind, a stark contrast to the turmoil she knew was churning within him. She knew waking him would only stir up more pain and anger, so she decided to let him rest. Karen sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the gentle snores a soothing soundtrack to the quiet room. She reached out to brush his antennae, with love and concern. Karen knew this wisdom teeth extraction had taken a toll on him, but she had no idea the depth of his embarrassment til she saw the photo. The next morning, Plankton woke to Karen's gentle humming. The stiffness in his jaw had subsided to a dull throb. As he sat up, the events of the previous day crashed down on him like a tidal wave. Karen turned, her smile fading as she took in his expression. "You're up," she said tentatively. Plankton nodded, jaw still aching. "Krabs called," Karen said, breaking the silence. Plankton's eye snapped to hers, his body tensing. "What." Karen took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice calm. "He said he's sorry for everything," she replied, her voice measured. "And that he didn't mean to embarrass you." Plankton stared at her, his jaw clenched. Karen understood the depth of his pain. "Maybe it wasn't about embarrassment," she suggested gently. "Maybe he was just trying to help." Plankton snorted, but the anger in his eye was fading, replaced by something closer to defeat. "Help." he repeated. "From Krabs!" Karen nodded. "He seemed genuinely concerned," she said. "And he did bring over those jellyfish for you." Plankton's skeptical, but didn't argue. Mr. Krabs wasn't exactly known for warm and fuzzy moments. But the idea that he had shown any care was unsettling. He always seen Krabs as the epitome of greed and self-interest, this newer side as unwelcome as the pain in his mouth. But as the day wore on, Plankton couldn't shake the feeling there's more to the story. Despite pride, he was curious about what happened between them. He knew he had to confront Krabs to set things straight, to regain some semblance of control over. So, when Mr. Krabs appeared at the chum bucket door, unannounced and looking unusually nervous, Plankton's curiosity won over. He begrudgingly let him in, posture stiff. Mr. Krabs fidgeted, his claws twitching as he looked around the cluttered room. "Plankton," he began, his voice tentative. "I know I've not always been the... the most sensitive crab in the sea, but I never meant to cause ye distress." Plankton's eye narrowed. "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice gruff. Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws fidgeting. "I just... I wanted to apologize," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For the photo. For... everything." Plankton's eye never left Mr. Krabs' face. "You had no right," he said, his voice cold. Mr. Krabs swallowed. "I know," he admits. "But I didn't mean for it to go viral. Pearl... she's young, she doesn't understand the implications." Mr. Krabs shifted uncomfortably. "I don't expect anything," he said. "But I want to explain. You were in a lot of pain, and I just... I just wanted to help." Plankton's expression unyielding. "And what exactly?" Mr. Krabs took a step back, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Well, you were delirious," he began. "You talked a bit, but it was mostly nonsense." Plankton wasn't satisfied. "I want details?" Mr. Krabs sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. "You talked about the good ol' days," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And how, despite our rivalry, we've always had a... a sort of respect for each other." Plankton felt a flicker of something in his chest, but pushed it aside. "Respect?" he sneered. "You expect me to believe that?" Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes earnest. "It's the truth," he said. "You talked about how we've been through a lot together, even though we're enemies." Plankton felt his anger dissipate with a strange curiosity. "Why?" he asked, his voice softer. "Why would I?" Mr. Krabs shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe anesthesia brought out some hidden feelings?" Plankton's antennae quivered with irritation. "Hidden feelings!" he echoed. "You're telling me I have feelings for you?" Mr. Krabs' face flushed a deep red. "No, no, no!" he sputtered, holding up his claws defensively. "It's just... you were out of it, Plankton, unable to know what you were saying." But Plankton wasn't letting it go. "I need to know," he insisted, his voice low and intense. "What did I say to you?" Mr. Krabs squirmed, his eyes darting around the room. "It's... it's nothing, really," he stammered. "Just random, incoherent babble." But Plankton's gaze was unyielding. "Tell me," he demanded. Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, eyes downcast. "You called me your... your best friend," he murmured. "And you said you admire me." Plankton's eye bulged, his antennae standing straight up. "Admired you?" he echoed, his voice incredulous. Mr. Krabs nodded, his cheeks burning. "Yes," he said, his voice barely audible. "But it was just the medication, I'm sure." Plankton's mind reeled at the revelation. Best friend? Admired? Inconceivable. He had spent his life plotting against Mr. Krabs, trying to steal the Krabby Patty secret, and here he was, confessing his admiration and friendship? A nightmare. "Why would I?" he croaked, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. Mr. Krabs shuffled his feet. "I told ya," he repeated. "You were out of it, babbling about all sorts of things." But Plankton's mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of his subconscious. "What else did I do?" he pressed, his voice tight. Mr. Krabs fidgeted, his eyes darting around the room. "You... you also thanked me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For being here." Plankton's jaw dropped, his arms flailing. "Thanked you?" he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. "What, exactly?" Mr. Krabs squirmed, his eyes darting around the room. "You said I was a... friend," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And that you were grateful for my help." Plankton quivered with rage. "Grateful?" he spat, his voice filled with revulsion. "To you?" Mr. Krabs looked down at his claws, his eyes pleading. "I know it's hard to believe," he said. "But you were in a lot of pain, and the medication can do funny things." Plankton's mind raced, trying to process this new information. He had always seen Mr. Krabs as the epitome of everything he despised: greedy, selfish, and always one step ahead in their eternal dance for the Krabby Patty secret. But here he was, describing a moment Plankton couldn't even remember. "What else?" Plankton demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "What other humiliating things?" Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to meet Plankton's. "Well, you dozed off during my story," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "You leaned against me, and before I knew it, you were out cold." Plankton's tentacles stilled, his mind racing with the absurdity of the situation. "Story time?" he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. "I fell asleep on your shoulder?" Mr. Krabs nodded, his face a picture of awkwardness. "It was quite... unexpected," he said, his eyes darting around the room. "But you seemed to enjoy it." Plankton stared at him, his mind reeling. "What was the story?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. Mr. Krabs' cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "It was about... You, per your request." Plankton's eye widened. Mr. Krabs nodded, turning a shade of red that matched his shell. "Yeah," he said, his voice small. "You said you liked the sound of my voice. It's the anesthesia," he said, his voice gentle. "It can do funny things to a body, make 'em say and do things they wouldn't normally." Plankton tightened around the ice pack, his mind racing. He had always seen Mr. Krabs as his sworn enemy, the one who stood between him and the Krabby Patty secret. But here was Krabs, describing a moment of intimacy that was as far from their usual interactions as the moon was from the ocean floor. Mr. Krabs cleared his throat, in discomfort. "It's alright, Plankton," he said, his voice gruff. "It's not something anyone needs to know about." But Plankton was insistent, his curiosity piqued. "I need to know," he said, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. "How did it happen?" Mr. Krabs sighed, eyes dropping to the floor. "Well," he began, his voice halting. "You seemed to get tired," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your eye closed, and your head just... kind of fell onto my shoulder." Plankton's antennae twitched with discomfort, his cheeks burning. "And?" "Well, you were in pain," he said, his voice gruff. "I didn't want to disturb you ." Karen watched the exchange from the doorway. She knew Plankton was tough, but this was a side of him she had never seen before. Vulnerable and exposed. "Mr. Krabs," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Thank you for coming over." Mr. Krabs looked up, his eyes darting to her before returning to Plankton. "It's no trouble, Karen," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I just wanted to make sure he's okay." Karen nodded, her gaze never leaving Plankton's face. "I think we can handle it from here," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. Mr. Krabs' eyes darted between the two of them, fidgeting. "If... if there's anything I can do," he offered, his voice trailing off. Karen gave a small smile filled with gratitude. "I think we got it from here," she said. "But thank you for caring."

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 3 (Neurodivergent author) After breakfast, Plankton looks up from his plate, his gaze meeting Karen's. "Karen," he says, his voice clearer now. "Plankton want outside." Karen nods, recognizing the need for a change of environment. They head out to the backyard, where the morning air is cool and the sun's rays cast dappled patterns on the grass. Plankton sits on a bench, his eye scanning the garden, taking in the sights. He points to a scallop, its wings a blur of color. "Beautiful," he says, his voice filled with awe. Karen nods, understanding that his heightened senses are allowing him to experience the world in a way she can't fully comprehend. The sound of Mr. Krabs’s lawnmower starts up, and Plankton flinches, his hands flying to cover his head. Karen quickly moves to his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's ok," she says, her voice calm and soothing. "It's just Mr. Krabs." Plankton's humming starts up again, his body rocking slightly with each engine's roar. She squeezes his shoulder, reminding him of her presence. Together, they sit on the bench, Karen's hand on his back, as he tries to ground himself with the feel of her touch and the rhythm of his humming. The lawnmower's noise gradually becomes louder. Plankton's body tenses, and he starts to rock faster, Karen notices. "Let's go inside," she suggests gently, reading his distress. The moment they step back into the house, the noise dims. He leans into her, his body seeking the comfort of her nearness. Karen leads him to the couch, where he curls into a small ball, his hands over his ears. "It's ok," she repeats, her voice a lullaby. "We can go to the quietest room." They move to the study, a place where Plankton's favorite books reside. He nods, his body still tense with the memory of the mower's invasive sound. Karen closes the door, cutting off the outside noise, and sits beside him on the floor. She opens a drawing book she knows he loves, filled with scenes from his favorite movies. Plankton's hands drop from his ears as he focuses on the images, his breathing steadying. Karen picks up a pack of colored pencils, handing them to him without a word. He selects a blue one and starts to trace the outline of a jellyfish, his hand shaking slightly. The mower's drone outside becomes a distant hum, the pages of the book a barricade against the sensory assault. He colors in the jellyfish, his strokes becoming more confident, his breaths deep and even. Karen watches him, seeing the world through his eye, feeling his discomfort slowly ebb away. The blue pencil moves with purpose, filling in the intricate details of the jellyfish's bell. Plankton's focus is so intense it's as if he's drawing a map to navigate his new reality. Each stroke is deliberate, a silent protest against the chaos that had invaded their morning. The mower's noise grows fainter, a fading memory. In the quiet of the study, his mind finds refuge. The colors swirl and blend, a symphony of order amidst the cacophony of sensations. Karen watches him, her own hands resting in her lap, giving him the space he needs. His coloring becomes a form of therapy, a way to communicate without words, to express his feelings when speech fails. The blue pencil moves to a green one, then a red, each color adding layers to the picture. The jellyfish comes to life under his touch, a silent companion that doesn't judge or overwhelm. The doorbell rings, a sharp intrusion into their sanctuary. Plankton's body jerks at the sound, his hand slipping, leaving a smudge on the page. Karen sighs, knowing it's Mr. Krabs, probably coming over to check on them. She glances at Plankton, his body coiled tightly, his eye fixed. "It's okay," she whispers, placing a hand on his arm. "It's just Mr. Krabs." The doorbell rings again, more insistent this time. Plankton's antennae droop, his body taut with anxiety. He starts to rock, his humming picking up speed. Karen rises, leaving the colored pencils behind. She moves to the door, each step deliberate. Mr. Krabs's face appears through the peephole, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. She takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the interaction she's read so much about. How to explain Plankton's condition without causing more stress? When she opens the door, Mr. Krabs's eyes widen, noticing Plankton. "Ye drawing a jellyfish? Absurd!" He cackles, causing further distress; Plankton sees where his drawing messed up and the harsh sound of Krabs laughter, and can't take it anymore. He throws the colored pencils across the room, each one a silent shout of frustration. "Leave me alone!" he yells, his voice cracking. Mr. Krabs's laughter dies instantly, his face morphing into one of shock. "Plankton, buddy, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, his voice thick with amused confusion. The question is a spark to Plankton's already frayed nerves. He feels his body tense further, his voice rising. "You don't know anything about me!" Plankton shouts at Mr. Krabs, his words a jumbled mess of anger and hurt. "You think you can just come in here and laugh at me?" Mr. Krabs's claws freeze in midair, his laughter choked off by the unexpected outburst. He stammers, trying to find the words to respond, but Plankton cuts him off. "You think I'm a joke? That my brain is a punchline for your entertainment?" Plankton's voice is a mix of anger and pain, each word a knife thrown with precision. Mr. Krabs, taken aback, takes a step backward. His face is a mask of surprise, his mouth agape like a fish out of water. "No, no, Plankton," he stammers, his claws raised in a defensive gesture. "I didn't mean to—" But Plankton isn't listening, his eye blazing with a fury Karen's never seen before. "You never knew me!" he cries, his voice echoing through the hallway. "You just saw what you wanted to see!" Each word is a whip crack in the tense silence. Mr. Krabs opens his mouth to speak, but Plankton's words continue to fly like shrapnel. "You only see what you want to see!" Plankton's voice cracks with emotion. "You see a business rival, not a friend, not someone who's hurting!" He stands up, his body trembling. Karen steps in, her hand on his arm, trying to calm him. "Let's go back to the study," she tries to suggest. But Plankton is beyond listening. The dam of his emotions has broken, and he's lost in a flood of words and accusations. "You only cared about your Krabby Patties, your greed!" Plankton's voice rises, each syllable a dagger. Mr. Krabs's eyes dart around, unsure how to respond to the raw pain in his friend's words. So he reaches his claw out hoping to calm him, but it's giving the opposite effect. "My whole life, you've used me!" Plankton's accusations fly like shrapnel in the quiet room. Karen's heart aches, but she knows this is a release he needs. She remains silent, her hand a comforting weight on his back, grounding him.

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 25 Hanna's voice is barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry," she says, looking down at her hands. "I didn't mean to-" But Plankton's focus is solely on the pieces on the board. "Don't talk to me," he says, his voice cold. "You're the one asking personal questions." Karen's heart clenches, wanting to explain, but knowing that Plankton's current state of mind won't allow for it. "Let's just keep playing," she suggests, her voice a gentle nudge. But the damage is done. Hanna's smile is forced, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The game continues in an awkward silence, Hanna's laughter a bit too loud, her movements a bit too quick. Plankton's stims don't ease, his hands fidgeting almost angrily on the armrest. Chip watches, his stomach in knots. He knows his dad's behavior is because of his condition, but it's hard to see his mom's friend hurt like this. Hanna's eyes keep darting to Plankton's hands, confusion and hurt swirling in her gaze. "I'm sorry," she murmurs again, her voice barely audible over the clanking of game pieces. "I di-" Plankton's antennae swivel sharply towards her. "What part of 'none of your business' don't you understand?" his voice is harsh, his frustration palpable. Hanna flinches, her hands tightening around her cards. Karen's eyes plead with Plankton to stop, but he's too lost in his own world, his senses on high alert. "Why are you always in my space?" He snaps, his voice echoing around the room. Chip's stomach twists with anxiety. Hanna's cheeks redden, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice smaller than ever. "I just-" But Plankton's done talking. With a roar of frustration, he's knocking over the game board. The pieces scatter everywhere, a visual representation of their shattered evening. Hanna gasps, her eyes wide with shock. "What's going on?" she asks, but Plankton's already storming out of the room. Karen's heart sinks as she watches her husband disappear down the hall. She knew this was a risk bringing him to Hanna's, but she had hoped for a better outcome. The guest room door slams shut, the sound echoing through Hanna's house. Chip feels a knot tighten in his stomach. He knows that look, his dad's retreat to his sanctuary of solitude. "I'm sorry," Hanna tells Karen, picking up the pieces of the game. "I didn't mean to-" Karen's eyes are filled with sorrow as she shakes her head. "It's not you," she says gently. "It's just part of his condition." Her voice is tight, her smile forced as she tries to explain. "When Plankton was being born, something happened. It changed him. Pressure, lack of flow... we're not sure. But what we do know is that it left him with a type of autism." She pauses. "He's had it his whole life. It's a balancing act," she admits. "Some days are better than others. But we've learned to read the signs, to give him the space he needs. It was when his mother was giving birth, his brain developed differently because of the stress it faced. It's not something anyone could have predicted." Hanna nods, her eyes still on the closed door. "I had no idea," she murmurs, feeling guilty for her intrusion. "I didn't mean to-" "It's okay," Karen says, her voice soft and reassuring. "It's not something that's obvious, unless you know what to look for." Hanna nods, her eyes filling with understanding. "How does it affect him?" she asks, placing the game pieces aside. Karen sighs. "It's complex," she says. "His brain processes information differently, which means certain things can be overwhelming for him. Lights, sounds, even textures can be too much. And sometimes, it's just the way people interact with him." Chip speaks up, his voice small. "But he's super smart. He can build anything." Karen's smile is sad. "It's true. His mind is...unique. But sometimes, it's like he's trapped in there, trying to get out." Hanna nods. "What can I do to help?" she asks, her voice earnest. Karen's heart swells with gratitude. "Just be patient," she says. "And respect his boundaries. Don't push him to explain things if he's not ready." Chip watches as Karen takes a deep breath. "And if you see him getting overwhelmed, just...give him some space." Hanna nods, her eyes still on the door. Plankton sits in the guest room, his back pressed against the corner. The world feels too loud, too bright, too much. He squeezes his eye shut, his hands over his head, his antennae tucked, his body rocking slightly on the floor. He's learned over the years that this can help dull the world around him, but it's not enough tonight. "Plankton?" Karen's voice filters through the door, soft and gentle. "Can I come in?" There's no response, but after a moment, the door opens a crack. Plankton's eye peeks out, his antennae quivering. "It's okay," she says. "I just want to check on you." He nods, his body tense. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice muffled. Karen's heart breaks a little more. "You don't have to be sorry," she says, entering the room. "You know that." She sits beside him on the floor. He's in full shutdown mode now, his body's way of coping with the overstimulation. She squeezes his hand gently. The silence stretches out, only broken by the distant hum of the city. Karen knows that Plankton needs this, that he's retreated into his own world to recharge. Yet it's hard to watch, knowing that she can't just wave a magic wand and make everything okay. Slowly, she starts to speak, her words deliberate and soft. "Remember, Plankton," she says, "Hanna's just trying to understand. She didn't mean any harm." Plankton's breathing evens out, his body unclenching slightly. "I know," he whispers. "It's just...hard." Karen nods. "I know, love." The room is dimly lit, the sounds of the city a distant lullaby. Plankton's stims slow down, his antennae unfurling slightly as his body starts to relax. Karen's words wash over him, a gentle reminder that he's not alone. "You know, it's okay to be different," she says. "And it's okay for people to be curious. But we'll make sure to explain to Hanna." Plankton's eye blinks slowly, his head nodding in agreement. He's so tired, his mind racing from the adrenaline and the sensory overload. His body feels heavy, his eyelid drooping. Karen notices the change and shifts closer to him. "Why don't you lie down?" she suggests, her voice a gentle whisper. "You look ex-" But Plankton's already falling asleep, his body sagging against hers. "Hey c'mon Plankton, let's get you up into the bed befo—" His snores cut her off, his antennae fluttering with each breath. She chuckles softly, her heart swelling with love. He's always been a light sleeper, even when they first met. Karen gently shifts him so he's leaning against her, his head resting on her shoulder. His body relaxes into the comfort of her embrace, his stims ceasing completely. It's moments like these that make her heart ache, knowing how much he struggles with the world outside their home. But she's also fiercely proud of his resilience. Karen's thumb rubs gentle circles on his arm, the rhythmic motion soothing. Plankton's snores even out, his breathing deepening. She can feel the tension in his body slowly dissipate, his muscles loosening. She kisses his cheek, her hand still on his arm, her love for him as constant as his condition. The room's dimness is a comforting blanket, shielding them from the brightness that Plankton finds so jarring. Karen's mind races with thoughts of tomorrow, the conversations she'll have to navigate with Hanna. But for now, she focuses on the quiet breaths beside her, the steady rise and fall of Plankton's chest. Hanna, peeking in from the hallway, sees Karen cradling Plankton's sleeping form. Her eyes are filled with compassion as she mouths a silent apology to Karen. Karen smiles slightly, shaking her head, as if to say it's not Hanna's fault. The two women share a knowing look, the weight of the evening's events heavy between them. Karen's gaze lingers on Plankton, her love for him evident in every line of her face. And she knows they'll be ok.

"I've never understood why they call it a 'morning routine'," Karen mumbled to herself. The clock glared: 5:47 AM. The house was silent, aside occasional tick of the wall clock. Plankton, her companion, was still snoring away upstairs. Karen sighed. Plankton had fallen asleep on the couch. Again. Karen had been Plankton's personal assistant, and she had grown accustomed to his erratic sleep patterns. Her processors ticked methodically as she calculated the best way to wake him without causing disturbance. She had tried various tactics in the past: music, cup of tea, even a friendly message displayed on her screen. But today, she had a new idea. As she booted up the household systems, she decided to start subtle. The lights began to brighten gradually, mimicking the glow of a dawning sunrise. It was a feature Plankton had installed, yet never used. She watched him stir slightly on the couch, snoring subsided to a gentle wheeze. "Karen?" he mumbled groggily. "Yes, Plankton?" she responded, keeping her voice low. He mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, eye still closed. Karen's curiosity piqued. It wasn't often Plankton talked in his sleep. She leaned closer, digital eyes studying his face as he continued to murmur. "Krabby Patty... so... delicious... must... get... recipe," he slurred, voice trailing off into a snore. Karen's circuits buzzed. Plankton's subconscious was revealing something significant he had kept hidden from her. The Krabby Patty recipe was the holy grail of their world, the secret ingredient known only to Mr. Krabs. Plankton had spent life trying to steal it, and seemed his obsession had seeped into his dreams. She waited for more sleep-talk to come with anticipation. The room grew lighter as the sunrise simulation reached its peak. Plankton's snoring turned into gentle rhythmic breathing. "Closer... so close," he murmured. "The secret... right there... in... Krabs'... locker." Karen's mind raced. A clue! Plankton's dreams might just be key to unlocking the mystery. She quickly made a note and continued observation. The sunrise simulation had reached its zenith, the room was bathed in a soft, warm light that made Plankton's snores almost peaceful. "Hidden... behind... picture... of... his... mother," Plankton murmured, voice barely audible. Karen's processors whirred. The secret might actually be within their grasp. She wondered if Plankton stumbled upon something real in his sleep- induced ramblings. As Plankton's breathing grew even quieter, Karen gently nudged the couch with her robotic arm. "Plankton, wake up," she whispered. With a jolt, Plankton's eye snapped open. "Karen what's going on?" He rubbed his eye and took in the bright room. "Why is it so light?" "It's morning, Plankton," Karen replied. "And I believe you had quite the interesting dream." Plankton sat up, eye darting around the room. "The Krabby Patty recipe! Did I say something about it?" "You might have," Karen said coyly, her LED eyes gleaming. "Care to share your dream with me?" Plankton looked at her, his brain still fuzzy with sleep. "I don't remember much," his mind racing to piece together the fragments of his dream. "Just something about a locker and a portrait." Karen nodded. "Ah, yes. Your subconscious might have been onto something. Would you like me to make breakfast while you ponder your dream?" Plankton nodded, mind still swirling with hazy images from his sleep. "Coffee," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "And something light." "Of course," Karen said, already knowing his preferred morning meal. She began preparing coffee and a plate of toast with jellyfish jam. While the water boiled and the toaster popped, she couldn't help but replay his words. The picture was a detail she hadn't expected. A place to start, a thread to pull at in their quest for the recipe. As the aroma of the brewing coffee filled the air, Plankton's eyelid grew heavy once more. He slumped back down onto the couch, mind still entangled in the web of his dream. "Just a few more minutes," he mumbled, his body succumbing to the call of sleep. Karen observed him with a mix of concern and intrigue. She knew the importance of rest, but she couldn't help feel a sense of urgency about the revelation from his dream. Plankton had always been so guarded about his Krabby Patty obsession, and now a potential lead. But as seconds ticked by and Plankton's breathing grew deeper, she realized curiosity would have to wait. She gently covered him with a blanket she had folded neatly over the arm of the couch. His snores grew louder. The sunrise simulation had run its course, and the room was now bathed in the soft light of early morning. Plankton's features relaxed into a peaceful expression, free from the worries that etched his face during waking hours. Karen felt a strange sense of pity for him, this tiny creature who had dedicated life to one all-consuming goal. She brought the coffee and toast over to the coffee table, placing them within arm's reach of Plankton. As she set the tray down, the smell of the freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, but Plankton remained fast asleep. His hand twitched slightly, as if he were reaching for something in his dream. Karen studied his face, the lines of stress and determination that usually etched his features had smoothed out in sleep. His dream had been so vivid, and the mention of Mr. Krabs' locker and his mother's portrait was too specific to be coincidental. It was clear that Plankton's subconscious was trying to communicate something important. As the room grew brighter, the sunrise simulation fading into the background, Karen knew she had to act quickly. She gently placed a hand on Plankton's shoulder. "Plankton," she whispered, "I need you to remember your dream. It's important." He grunted and shifted under the blanket, but didn't wake. Karen knew to be careful. If she startled him too much, he might forget details. She tried a different approach. "You were dreaming about the Krabby Patty recipe," she said softly. "Can you tell me more?" "It was... in the locker," he murmured, his voice distant and dreamy. "Behind the picture of his mother." Karen's digital eyes widened. "Mr. Krabs' locker?" she prodded gently. "Yes... the secret... so close," Plankton mumbled, his hand moving in a grasping motion as if he were reaching for something in his sleep. Karen leaned in closer, her digital heart racing with excitement. "What did you find in the locker, Plankton?" she whispered, her voice a soft hum in the stillness of the room. Plankton's hand clenched into a fist, and he mumbled something unintelligible. She waited, her anticipation growing. Finally, his words grew clear. "The recipe... it's... in... a... safe." Karen's circuits sparked. A safe behind Mr. Krabs' mother's portrait? This was more than a mere hunch—it was a concrete lead. She needed to ensure Plankton didn't forget this vital piece of information when he awoke. "The safe," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What did the combination look like?" "Three... numbers," he murmured, his voice trailing off again. "Three numbers," Karen echoed, mind racing. "Can you remember them?" Plankton's fingers twitched again, as if typing on an invisible keyboard. "Two... six... seven," he murmured, voice fading away. Karen lit up, capturing the sequence. "Two, six, seven," she repeated, committing the numbers to her digital memory. "Plankton, stay with me," she urged softly. "Is there anything else you can tell about the safe?" But Plankton was already lost to the world of slumber, his hand dropping to his side. The finality of his silence told her that the moment had passed, and wouldn't be sharing any more secrets from his dream. With a sigh, she stood up and returned to the kitchen, her mind racing with possibilities. A safe behind a portrait was a classic hiding spot, but it was the kind of classic that Mr. Krabs would never see coming. Karen poured the coffee in a mug and placed it on the tray, the steam rising up and curling in the early morning light. The scent was strong just how Plankton liked it. She hoped the aroma would coax him back to consciousness without jolting him too much. As she approached the couch, she heard him mumble something about "the perfect bun" and "special sauce." It was clear that his dream was still lingering in the periphery of his waking mind. This was her chance. "Plankton," she said, her voice gentle. "What else did you see in the locker?" He stirred, his eye still closed. "The... bun... it's... so... soft..." Karen leaned in closer, her digital heart thumping with excitement. "The bun, Plankton? What about it?" "It's... it's... part of the secret," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "The fluffiness... it's crucial." Karen's processors raced with the implications. Could it be that the Krabby Patty's allure was in the bun, not just the patty itself? The ingredients she had always seen Plankton focus on were the meat and the secret sauce. This was a revelation. "Fluffiness," she repeated, her digital mind filing away the word. "Can you tell me more about the bun?" But Plankton had already drifted too far into the depths of his slumber to respond. His breathing grew even and steady, his features relaxed once more. Karen let him rest, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the answer was so close she could almost taste it. Plankton's chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, snores growing quieter as he descended to deeper slumber. Plankton's dream had provided a glimmer of hope, a potential shortcut in the quest for the Krabby Patty formula.

x♡o

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH i "Why do we have to go so early?" he grumbled. "I know, sweetie," Karen said, patting his hand reassuringly. "But it's for the best. You'll be out like a light during the surgery, and you won't feel a thing." The nurse noticed his distress and offered a kind smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Plankton. We're going to make this as comfortable for you as possible. First things first, let's get you in and then we'll start with some anesthesia." Karen watched as Plankton reluctantly climbed into the chair. The nurse dimmed the lights and adjusted the chair's recline. She placed a warm blanket over him, and the softness enveloped him like a comforting embrace, the nurse preparing Plankton for the surgery. She chatted away, "So, any plans for the weekend?" "Not really," he said, "Just recovery." The nurse nodded. She began to insert the IV, talked him through each step, her voice a comforting lullaby guiding him into a state of relaxation. She continued to engage in light conversation, told about her weekend plans, a lifeline to the outside world that seemed so far away in the cold, clinical environment. As the anesthesia began to work, Plankton felt his body grow heavier, his eyelid drooping. "You're doing great," she said softly. "Just keep breathing, ok?" Plankton's thoughts began to blur together. The doctor's voice grew distant, his words melding into a comforting murmur as Plankton felt himself slipping away. The last thing he heard was Karen's voice, a gentle whisper in his ear. "I'm here," she said, her hand holding onto his with a fierce tenderness. "I love you." And then there was nothing, the last sensation he felt before everything went quiet. The anesthetist monitored Plankton's vitals, ensuring he remained safely asleep throughout the procedure. Plankton was a picture of peace, mouth agape as the anesthesia kept him blissfully unaware of the world around him. The nurse's eyes flick from the monitors to Plankton's serene face. Plankton's body didn't even flinch. Plankton's face remained relaxed, his breathing even, as the anesthetic kept him in a state of blissful unconsciousness, ensuring that his comfort remained top priority. Plankton's body remained still, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence that soothed the room. The nurse gently swabbed his mouth, keeping the area clean and clear. The doctor stitched up the small incisions with a gentle touch, while the nurse cleaned Plankton's mouth. The anesthetist monitored the levels, ensuring a smooth and safe emergence from the depths of unconsciousness. The doctor looked at Karen, his eyes weary but his smile reassuring. "It's all done," he said. "Everything went smoothly. He's still sleeping it off, but you can go in and see him." Karen rushed in, her screen searching for Plankton. He was there, lying back in the chair, his mouth slightly open, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He looked so peaceful, vulnerable. She reached out and touched his hand, for the surgery was over. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he slept. "He's doing great," she assured her. "The surgery went well." Karen leaned over Plankton, as she brushed his antennae with her hand. She took in the sight of him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft snorish sounds escaping his mouth. His face was a portrait of peace, a stark contrast to the chaos of the surgery that had just taken place. The nurse finished her work and dimmed the lights, leaving the room in a soft glow that cast shadows across the floor. Karen pulled up a chair and sat down, her hand finding Plankton's again. "You're ok," she murmured, willing him to hear her voice, to feel her presence. "You're going to be ok." Karen's entire world was contained in reassuring her that he was still there. The nurse approached with a wad of gauze. "We need to put this in his mouth to help with bleeding," she explained gently. Karen nodded. The nurse placed the gauze with the same care she had shown throughout the entire ordeal, pressing it gently against the raw, tender spots where Plankton's teeth had once been. The nurse finished her cleanup and checked Plankton's vitals one last time. "He'll come around soon," she assured. "The anesthesia takes a bit to wear off." His breathing was still deep and steady, the gentle rumble of his snores filling the room. She found comfort in the mundane sounds of his slumber. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that seemed to match the beeping of the heart monitor. The anesthesia had done its job well, leaving him in a deep, dreamless sleep. His face was serene. His antennae lay limp on the chair's headrest, and his mouth was open slightly, revealing the gauze the nurse had placed to stem the bleeding. The drool that had pooled at the corners of his mouth began to seep out onto the chair. The nurse noticed and nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "It's normal," she said. Plankton's snores grew louder, the drool now a small river that trickled down. Karen reached out with a trembling hand, her thumb catching the droplets before they could stain the fabric. The drool was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation. Her screen focused on the slow, steady flow of dribble, forming and breaking away, each one a little more substantial than the last. The nurse had said it was normal, but to Karen, it was a sign of his vulnerability, a tangible proof of the surgery's aftermath. As the drool grew into a small puddle on the chair, Karen's resolve to be strong for him grew stronger. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the side table and gently wiped. The nurse looked at her with understanding. "It's alright," she said softly. "He'll wake un his own time." Karen nodded, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. She felt a strange mix of love and pity. Here he was, reduced to a drooling mess in a chair, and yet she had never felt more connected to him. It was a strange intimacy, this moment of vulnerability, a silent pact between them that she would always be there to wipe away his fears, both literal and figurative. The nurse moved around the room, her movements efficient and silent. She checked the machines one last time before turning to Karen. "Why don't you sit down?" she suggested, patting the chair beside Plankton's. "It'll be a bit before he wakes up. Might as well get comfortable." Karen nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She pulled up a chair and held his hand tightly, her thumb brushing back and forth across his knuckles. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "You did it, sweetie." She leaned closer. "The teeth are out. You're okay." She waited, watching the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, and willing him to open his eye. "Remember what I said about ice cream?" she asked, her voice a little louder this time. "You can have as much as you want when we get home." She tried to keep her tone light, despite the gravity of the situation. The thought of his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream was supposed to make him smile, but his face remained slack. But she knew he was strong, and he would bounce back. He always did. "I just want you to know how much I love you. How much I need you. We've been through so much together, and I can't imagine my life without you. You're going to wake up soon, and it'll all be over. And then we can go home, and I'll take care of you, just like you always take care of me. Remember when we said 'in sickness and in health'?" she whispered. "Well, this is definitely a 'sickness' moment, but I'm right here. And I'll be here through all the healthy moments too." The nurse quietly left them a moment of privacy. Karen leaned in closer. "You're going to feel a bit funny when you wake up," she said with a soft laugh. "Your mouth will be sore, and your face will be puffy. But I'll be there. And maybe I'll let you win at Scrabble for once." She chuckles. "Just don't let it go to your head." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, and a low moan escaped his throat. She squeezed his hand. "That's it, baby," she encouraged. "You're waking up." His eye opened slowly dilated and unfocused. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the harsh lights of the recovery room. He turned his head to the side, and she knew he was searching for her. "Hi," she said, her voice a warm whisper. "It's me, Karen. You're ok." His gaze found hers, and she saw the flicker of recognition. "Where am I?" he slurred, his voice thick and groggy. "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had your wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her cool hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled.

Messi 𓃵🐟

ᑦᵒᵖᶤᶰᵍ ᴾᵒᵈ ⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾ 'ˢᵉᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘᵎ' 'ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈᵎ' 'ᵂᶤˢʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗᵎ' ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ᶜᵒᶰᶜᵉʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵉᶠᵗˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ˢᶤˡᵉᶰᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵐᵒᵗᶤᵒᶰˡᵉˢˢˑ ᴵᵗ ᵃˡˡ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵉᵃʳˡᶤᵉʳˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶤˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶤᶰᵍʳᵉᵈᶤᵉᶰᵗˢ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒˢᶤᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶤᶰᵛᵉˢᵗᶤᵍᵃᵗᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈᵉᵈˑ ᑦᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᶰᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵘᶤˡᵗ ᵃ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˡᶤᵐᶤᶰᵃᵗᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᵉʳˑ ᵀᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵘᶰᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰ ˢᵘᵖᶤᶰᵉ ᵖᵒˢᶤᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵇˑ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉᵛᶤᶜᵉ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᶤᶰᶠˡᶤᶜᵗ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵃᶤᶰˑ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉᶰ˒ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵒᶰᶤᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵛᶤᵗᵃˡˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵃᶤᵗᵉᵈ˒ ʰᵒᵖᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡˑ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈˑ ᴰᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵘᶰᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶤᵍʰᵗˑ "ᑦᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶰ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ˒ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉᵎ" ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ˢᶤᵈᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶰʸ ᶰᵉʷ ᶜʰᵃᶰᵍᵉˢˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ˒ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ᵒᵇˡᶤᵛᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᵃʳᵒᵘᶰᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵒᶰˡʸ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶰᵒᵒᶰ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ˢᵉᶰˢᵒʳˢ ᶰᵒʷ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᶤᶰᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵖᵉʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖˑ ᴹᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᵉᵖˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᶰᶤᵗᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵖᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉᶰˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳᶰ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ ᴼᵖᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ˒ ʰᶤˢ ˢᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇˡᵘʳʳʸ˒ ᵛᶤˢᶤᵒᶰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᶤᵍʰˢ ᶤᶰ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᶠˑ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵˑˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵐᵃᶰᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢᵏ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈˑ "ᴼʰ˒ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉᵎ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴴᶤˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʲᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶤᶰᶜᵒʰᵉʳᵉᶰᵗˡʸ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳᵗᶤᶜᵘˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˑ "ᵂʰᵃˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒᶰᶜᵉʳᶰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ˡᵒᶰᵍᵉʳ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᵉᵈˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᶤᶰᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ᴴᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵈᶤˢᶜᵒᶰᶰᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᶰᶤᵗᵒʳˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍˀ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃʸˢˑ "ᵞᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳˢˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ˢᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖˑ "ᴼʷˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵉᵃᶰᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰ ᵖᵘᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈˑ "ᵂʰʸ'ˢˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉᶰ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈᵎ" "ᴴᵘʳᵗ; ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈˀ" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʳʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗˑ "ᵞᵉˢ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉᵃʳˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈˑ "ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᶤᶰᵍʳᵉᵈᶤᵉᶰᵗˢˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢʰᵒʷᶰ ᶰᵒ ᶤᶰᵈᶤᶜᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᶰᵒʳ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶰᵒʷ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵃᶤᵈˑ "ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ'ᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗˀ" "ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ ᵂᵃᶤᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵃᵏᵉᶰ ᵇʸ ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈˑ "ᴺᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶤˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵘˢˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵐᵃᶰᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ʰᵒᵖᶤᶰᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵐᶰᵉˢᶤᵃ ᶤˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵒʳᵃʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᶤᶰ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ; ᵐʸ ᶰᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑ" 'ᴬᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵛᶤᵛᵉᵈ' ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᶰᶤᶜᵉ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵃᶰᵏˢ; ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰᵎ" ᴴᵉ ˢᵐᶤˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳˑ ᴺᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᵉᵉᶰ ᵒᶰ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᶤᵗ ᶤᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵒʷᶰ ˢᵘᵇᵗˡᵉ ʷᵃʸˢˑ ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉᵃʳᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃʸ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉʳᵉ ᵐᵃᶰᶰᵉʳˑˑˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘˑ" "ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉˀ ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ʷᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʷʰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉᵎ ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍᶰᶤˢᵉ ᵐᵉ˒ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜʳᶤᵉˢˑ "ᴵ''ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗᵎ ᴵ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᶰᶤᶜᵉᵎ" "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ; ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸˑ ᵞᵒᵘʳ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇᵉᶤᶰᵍ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸˑ ᑦᵃᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉˀ" "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ˢᵒ; ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵈᵒˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷᶰˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖᶤᶰᵍ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜᵃˡˡˢ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵈᵉᵗᵃᶤˡˑ "ᵀʰᵉ ᵉˣᵗᵉᶰᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᶜᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇʳᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷ˒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵒʳᵃʳᶤˡʸ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵉᵃˡˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵎ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʰᵉ ᶰᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶰʸ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢˑˑˑ" "ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᵗʰᵃᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘᵎ" ᴴᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˀ" "ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˡᶤᵏᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗᶰᵉˢˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃʸ ᵃ ᵛᶤˢᶤᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ "ᴴᶤ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ" "ᴴᵘʰˀ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘᵎ" "ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ ᴺᵒᵎ" "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˀ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰᵗᵎ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑˑ" "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʰᵒʷ'ˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵐᵉˀ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ʷᵃᶤᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡˀ" "ᴺᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍᵎ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᶤᶰ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵐᵉ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʰᵉʳᵎ" "ᵞᵒᵘ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʰᵉʳˀ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸˑ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵠᵘᶤᶜᵏˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ᵂᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ˒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵘʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶤᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ˒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵃʷᵉˢᵒᵐᵉˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉˑ ᴵ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴳᵒᵗ ᶤᵗˀ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶰᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈˑ "ᴴᵉ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶤˢ ᶤᶰ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ; ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵃˢ ʰᶤˢ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᶤᵉˢ ʰᵉᵃˡ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʰᵉˡᵖˑ" ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ˒ ˢʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈˑ ᴴᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ˒ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶰᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᶰᵉ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵐᵃʲᵒʳᶤᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶤᶰᶠˡᵃᵐᵐᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵈʷᶤᶰᵈˡᵉᵈ˒ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵘʳᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ˒ ᶰᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒʳᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵒᶰ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈʳᶤᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢᶰᵉˢˢ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶤᶰᶜᶤᵈᵉᶰᵗ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˑ "ᴴᶤ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᶰᵒʷˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ˒ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶤᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒᶰᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰˑ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ˒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣᵗᵉᶰᵗˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵘᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᶤᶰᵍᵎ" "ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑ" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ; ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᶠᶤᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑ" "ᴰᵒᵉˢ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶤᵐᵐᵉᵈᶤᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᵈ ᶤᶰᵗᵉᶰᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃʳᵐˑ" ᴬᶰˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᶤᶰᵍ ᴵ ᶠᵃᶤˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶤᶰᵍʳᵉᵈᶤᵉᶰᵗˢˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵏˢˑ "ᵞᵒᵘˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᶤᵛᵉ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ˒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵎ" ˢʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵖᵘˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰˑ 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: <𝟭𝗸

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH ii "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled. "I don't... I don't member any ting." His words were slurred. The anesthesia was definitely still working its magic on him. "It's ok," she said, her voice soothing. "You don't need to.." Plankton's head lolled to the side, and his eyelid grew heavy again. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "I'm right here," she assured him, her voice steady and calm. She watched as he tried to lift his hand to wipe at his mouth, but it flopped back down onto the chair's armrest, his fingers brushing against hers. Plankton's eye grew heavy again, and his head lolled to the side. The anesthesia was working its way out of his system, but it was taking its time. She chuckled as she watched him struggle to keep his eye open. "I'm... I'm," Plankton mumbled, his words coming out slurred and sloppy. His eye rolled back in his head, and he let out a snore. "You're a mess," she laughs, her voice filled with love. "But you're my mess." She watched as his chest rose and fell with each snore. It was clear that the anesthesia was still holding him in its grasp, and she knew it would be a while before he was fully awake. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Plankton's snores grew louder. Karen reached out and gently wiped the line of drool from his mouth with a tissue. He stirred, his eye blinking open again. "You're drooling," she whispered, smiling at him. "What's happening?" he asked, his words slurred. "You're coming out of the anesthesia," Karen said, her voice a lifeline in the haze. "Everything went fine." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts racing. "Mmmy...nesia?" he mumbled. Karen's smile grew, understanding his attempt to ask about his sleep during surgery. "You mean the anesthesia?" Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his endeavor. "You're just a little out of it," she said, her voice gentle. "The anesthesia is wearing off." "Thish...thish ish...shomefinny," Plankton tried to say. "What?" Karen asked, her curiosity piqued by his attempt at speech. "Nothin'." Plankton's words were slurred into a single syllable. He looked utterly lost in the haze. Karen leaned closer. "You sure?" Plankton nodded, his smile lopsided. "Jush...jush glad." Karen couldn't help but laugh at his adorable incoherence. "You're so loopy," she said, her voice filled with affection. She squeezed his hand gently. "I love you." "Ish love...love you too, Karen," he slurred. "I know," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and affection. "Tish...tish hard," Plankton mumbled, his cheeks dimpling with his own private joke. The nurse entered the room, checking his vitals with a knowing smile. "It's normal for patients to be a bit out of it after surgery," she said, scribbling notes on her clipboard. "I'm shorry," he said, words still a jumble. Karen couldn't help but lean in closer, her own smile growing wider. "It's ok," she assured him, her voice gentle. The nurse nodded in agreement, her own smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's quite common," she said, her voice professional but kind. "Ish...Ish...it...over?" he managed to ask, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Yes, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice still filled with love and amusement. "You're all done. They got all your wisdom teeth out." "Thish...thish allll over now-ow." "Almost," Karen said, her voice a gentle melody. "We just need to wait for the anesthesia to wear off a bit more, and then we can go home." Plankton nodded, his eye already drifting shut again. His mouth moved as he attempted to speak, but only slurred sounds came out. Karen leaned in closer, her smile never wavering. "You know, you're pretty chatty for someone who's had their wisdom teeth out." "Ish...Ish always had...shomeshin' to shay," Plankton managed, his speech a series of lisped and elongated sounds. Plankton's eye began to drift closed again, his breathing growing deep and even. The nurse finished her checks and gave Karen instructions for his aftercare. "Make sure he takes it easy," she said. "I will," Karen promised, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. The quiet was filled with the sound of Plankton's snores, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath the blanket. His mouth was still slightly open, and she could see the drool forming at the corner of his lips. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Mr. Krabs, Plankton's rival at the Krabby Patty. "How's he doing?" it read. "Loopy," she replied with a smiley face. She had told Mr. Krabs about the surgery the day before, and despite their rivalry, he had offered to come visit when they get back home. The nurse poked her head back in, checking the clock on the wall. "Alright, he's ready to go," she said, her smile warm. Karen nodded, standing up and gently shaking Plankton's shoulder. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's get you home." Plankton's eye blinked open slowly, and he looked around the room with confusion. "Home?" he mumbled, his voice still thick. "Yes, we're going home," Karen said, her voice the balm to his disorientation. She helped him to his feet, supporting his weight as he swayed slightly. The drive back home was a blur of sleep. Plankton's head lolled against the car window, the vibration of the engine lulling him to a doze. "You okay?" Karen asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Yeah," Plankton mumbled, his voice a sleepy rumble. "Just...tiwed." The drive home was quiet, with only the occasional snore piercing the silence. Karen drove carefully, her eyes flicking between the road and the mirror to check on Plankton. She knew he would be out for the count for a while, and his face was still swollen. As they pulled into their driveway, Plankton stirred. "We're home," Karen said, her voice gentle. He nodded, his eye still half-closed. "Home," he murmured. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly as he tried to find his balance. She wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting him as they made their way, and he leaned into her, his body heavy with fatigue. The house was quiet as they entered, the only sound the occasional tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Karen guided him to the couch, carefully helping him sit down. "Rest here," she said, her voice a gentle command. Plankton nodded, eye closing again. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a pillow. "Here," she said, placing the pillow behind his head. He took the glass with a nod, his hand shaking slightly. He took a sip. "Thish...thish ish...good," he managed to say. She knew he was in pain, and the anesthesia was only adding to his confusion. "I'll be right back," she said, her voice a soft whisper. Karen grabbed the pet amoeba puppy, Spot. She carried him back to the living room, where Plankton was slowly coming around. "Look who's here," she said, holding Spot out to him. Spot's blob-like body stretched out in excitement, his little legs waving in the air. Plankton's eye widened at the sight, and a smile spread across his swollen face. "Spot," he murmured, his voice still thick with anesthesia. Karen set Spot on his lap, and the amoeba immediately began to cover him in wet, loving kisses. Plankton chuckled, his hand rising to pet the creature's gelatinous head. "Hey, bubby," he slurred, his speech still compromised. The simple act of touch brought a spark of life to Plankton's eye. "You're good boyth," he said, his voice a mix of affection and pain. Spot's response was a happy wiggle. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight, Plankton's love for their little amoeba was unwavering. She took a seat beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Just rest," she said, her voice a soft command. Plankton nodded, his eyes closing again. Spot continued to shower him with affection, his slimy kisses landing on Plankton. Karen watched them for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. Then she stood up, knowing there was still more to do to ensure Plankton's recovery went smoothly. In the kitchen, she put together a soft meal for him, something that wouldn't irritate his sensitive mouth. She chopped up some fruit into a small bowl and warmed up a cup of soup. The smells of chicken broth and sweet berries filled the air, a comforting aroma that she hoped would ease his pain. When she returned to the living room, Plankton was asleep, Spot curled up with him. She set the food down on the table, the spoon clinking gently against the porcelain bowl. She took a moment to appreciate the peaceful scene before her, the two of them nestled together, the TV playing a low murmur of background noise. Karen decided to let him sleep for a bit longer. Gently, she lifted Spot off Plankton's lap and placed him on the floor. The amoeba pup quickly scuttled back by the couch, but still on the floor. Karen then turned off the TV, not wanting the noise to disturb Plankton's rest. Just as she was about to leave the room to let him sleep, the doorbell rang. It was Mr. Krabs, his beady eyes looking concerned. She opened the door, whispering, "Shh, he's asleep." Mr. Krabs nodded, his usual gruffness replaced with a rare display of compassion. He held a bag of ice. "Thought he might need these," he said, handing them to her. Karen took the bag gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered. "He's in the living room."

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH iii Just as Karen's about to leave the room to let him sleep, the doorbell rang. It was Mr. Krabs, eyes looking concerned. She opened the door, whispering, "Shh, he's asleep." Mr. Krabs nodded, his usual gruffness replaced with a rare display of compassion. He held a bag of ice. "Thought he might need these," he said. Karen took the bag gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered. "He's in the living room." Mr. Krabs nodded again and followed her into the room. He took in the sight of Plankton, sprawled out on the couch with his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. "Tough day, eh?" he murmured. "You have no idea," Karen replied, her voice tinged with exhaustion. She took the gauze out of Plankton's swollen cheeks. He stirred but didn't wake. Mr. Krabs took a seat in the chair opposite the couch, fidgeting nervously. "How's he been?" he asked. "In and out," Karen replied, watching as Plankton shifted slightly. Mr. Krabs leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "And what'd they say?" Karen sighed, the weight of the day settling on her shoulders. "It went well, the doctor said. They had to remove all four of his wisdom teeth. It wasn't easy, but he was pretty out of it. They had to give him extra sedative." Mr. Krabs' eyebrows shot up. "Plankton, out of it?" Karen nodded, a small smile playing on her lips despite the situation. "Just sleeping, drooling a bit.." Mr. Krabs chuckled quietly. "I think this really knocked him out." Karen nodded, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, he's been pretty out of it since he went under," she whispered. "But it's ok, it's just til the anesthesia wears off." Mr. Krabs leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but...he looks peaceful." Karen chuckled softly. "He's not one to sit still, so it's definitely a rare sight." She took the bag of ice from Mr. Krabs and placed it gently on Plankton's swollen cheek. He didn't even flinch, lost in a world of drug-induced slumber. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, the only sound being Plankton's rhythmic snores. Eventually, Plankton's eye opens. "K-Krabs?" he slurred, his voice groggy. Mr. Krabs jolted upright, his claws clutching the chair's armrests. "Yes, yes, it's me," he said, his voice a mix of surprise and awkwardness. Plankton's eye searched the room, his gaze landing on the bag of ice on his cheek. He reached up to touch it, his hand wobbly. "What...happened?" "You had your wisdom teeth out, honey," Karen said, her voice soothing. "Remember?" Plankton's expression grew comically confused. "Wish-dish...teef?" Mr. Krabs coughed, clearing his throat. "Ah, yes, your wisdom teeth," he said. "Yes, those pesky things," he said. "But don't worry, they're gone now." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he tried to sit up, only to wince in pain. "Oh, wight," he murmured, his hand moving to his mouth. Karen quickly leaned over and pushed him back down gently. "Easy, you need to rest," she said. Plankton's eye searched the room again before focusing on Mr. Krabs. "K-Krabs?" he slurred, a hint of a smile forming. "Youw here?" Mr. Krabs nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. "Yes, I am. Thought I'd check on my favorite...uh, rival." Karen couldn't help but chuckle at the awkwardness, but Plankton's face lit up. "You're my best fwiend," he slurred, his arm reaching out to pat Mr. Krabs' hand. Mr. Krabs looked down at the small, tentacle-like hand on his arm, and for a brief moment, his usual stern expression softened. "Plankton, I...I'm just here to check on you," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. Plankton's smile grew wider, his one eye shining with what could only be described as affection. "Mr. Kwabs, you're the best," he slurred, his voice thick with the remnants of the anesthesia. Mr. Krabs looked at Karen, his beady eyes wide with surprise. "Is he...is he okay?" he whispered. Karen nodded, her own smile growing. "It's just the anesthesia. He'll be back to his usual self in no time." Plankton's hand remained on Mr. Krabs' arm, his grip tightening slightly. Mr. Krabs' shell flushed, unused to such affection from his nemesis. "Th-thank you, Plankton," he stuttered. "Just get some rest now." Just something endearing about Plankton's vulnerability in this state. She knew Mr. Krabs felt it too, his gruff exterior melting away like the ice on Plankton's cheek. "Mr. Kwabs," Plankton mumbled again. Mr. Krabs cleared his throat, his pinchers fidgeting with the chair's armrest. "Yes, Plankton?" "Can you...tell me a stowwy?" Plankton's voice was barely audible, his one eye pleading. Mr. Krabs' eyebrows shot up. "A story?" he repeated, surprised. "It'd help him relax," Karen shrugs. "Just something simple." Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his mind racing for a suitable tale. "Once upon a time," he began, his voice softer than usual, "there was a tiny plankton named... Sheldon." Plankton's eye fluttered open, a smile spreading across his swollen face. "Thath's me!" he exclaimed, his voice still slurred. Mr. Krabs chuckled, his usual stern expression replaced with a warm smile. "Indeed it is," he said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He took a deep breath and continued, "Sheldon Plankton lived in a big, blue sea. And he had the most amazing plan." Plankton's eye remained open, focusing on Mr. Krabs as best he could. "Whath's the plan?" he mumbled. Mr. Krabs paused, surprised by Plankton's interest. "Well, Plankton had the most ingenious plan to become the best chef in the sea," he said, his voice taking on a storytelling lilt. Plankton's eye fluttered, his gaze fixed on Mr. Krabs. "Chef?" he repeated, his voice a hopeful murmur. Mr. Krabs nodded, his smile growing. "Yes, a chef," he said. "And every day, Sheldon would try new recipes, searching for the perfect Krabby Patty secret." Plankton's grip on Mr. Krabs' tightened. "Mr. Kwabs," he slurred again, his voice thick with emotion. "You're...you're the besht...the beth...chef." Mr. Krabs blinked, his eyes misting over. It was the closest thing to a compliment he had ever received from Plankton, and it was enough to make his heart swell. "Why, thank you, Plankton," he said, his voice cracking slightly. Karen watched the scene unfold with a warm smile. It was clear that despite their rivalry, Plankton looked up to Mr. Krabs in some way. It anesthetic loopiness was a side of him she had never seen before. "You...you're wike a fath-ther to me," he mumbled, his grip on Mr. Krabs' arm tightening. Mr. Krabs was taken aback, his claws patting Plankton's awkwardly. "Plankton," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You're like...a...a...uh, a...uh, a...challenge," he finished lamely, not quite able to express the feelings that Plankton's words had stirred in him. Plankton's smile grew, his one eye gleaming with happiness. "I wike you." Mr. Krabs nodded, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. "So, Sheldon Plankton," he began, his voice soothing. "He worked tirelessly, trying to outdo the Krabby Patty with his own secret recipe." Plankton's head lolled back against Mr. Krabs' arm, his breathing growing shallower. His grip on Mr. Krabs' hand loosened, and his eyelid began to droop again. Mr. Krabs noticed the change and paused his story, watching him carefully. "Don't stop," Karen whispered, brimming with tears. "It's helping him relax." Mr. Krabs nodded, understanding the unspoken request. He took a deep breath and resumed the tale. "But no matter how hard Sheldon Plankton tried, he just couldn't crack the code. One day, he stumbled upon an ancient scroll..." Mr. Krabs' voice droned on. Plankton's breathing grew more rhythmic, his grip on Mr. Krabs' arm loosening. His head slowly sank against Mr. Krabs' chest, and his eye closed completely. Mr. Krabs felt the weight of his rival, his own heart beating a little faster. He'd never had Plankton this close, this...trusting. The room grew quiet, only the occasional snore from Plankton piercing the silence. Mr. Krabs paused in his storytelling, his pinchers hovering over the bowl of soup. He looked down at Plankton, his expression a mix of confusion and something else. Something he couldn't quite put his claw on. "Should we get him to bed?" he whispered to Karen. "Yes," she said, pixelated eyes shining with unshed tears. "Let's get him comfortable." They carefully lifted Plankton from the couch. Karen picked up Spot, cradling him in her arms as they moved to the bedroom. Mr. Krabs took the lead. Plankton's snores grew louder as they climbed the stairs, each step a test of their coordination. Karen followed closely behind, her eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him so at ease, so vulnerable. It was a side of him she had rarely glimpsed, and it filled her with a warmth she hadn't expected. They laid Plankton down gently, his body sinking into the mattress with a sigh. Spot squirmed in Karen's arms, sensing the shift in his owner's condition. She placed the amoeba pup on the bed beside Plankton, who automatically curled into the warm blob, his snores growing quieter. Mr. Krabs hovered over the bed, his claws twitching as he surveyed the scene. "Is he...is he okay?" he asked, his voice a whisper. Karen nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "He's just sleeping," she assured him. "Thanks for staying." Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes lingering on the sleeping Plankton. "Of course," he said gruffly. "Can't have you two dealing with this alone." Karen tucked the blankets around him, smoothing out the wrinkles with a gentle hand.

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH iv "Thanks for staying." Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes lingering on the sleeping Plankton. "Of course," he said gruffly. "Can't have you two dealing it alone." Karen tucked the blankets around him, smoothing out the wrinkles with a gentle hand. The next day, Plankton woke, all traces of anesthesia worn off, cheeks tender to the touch. He vaguely remembered surgery, but everything after was a blur. "Morning," Karen said. She sat beside the bed, her screen warm with concern. "How are you feeling?" Plankton blinked. "K-Karen?" he asked. "Whath's...what happened?" "You had wisdom teeth removed, darling," she said softly. "You're going to be fine." The memory of surgery rushed back to Plankton in fragments—the operating room, machines, and then Karen holding his hand as he woke up. Wincing, he reached to tentatively touch his swollen face, the pain a reminder of his ordeal. Karen noticed his discomfort and handed him water. "Take it slow," she advised, watching him intently. Plankton took a sip, the cool liquid soothing. He leaned back into the pillows with a sigh. "Do you remember surgery?" she asked, stroking his arm. "It's all a bit fuzzy," he admitted. "Just going in, waking up. Going in the car to drive home? But nothing else.." The surgery had gone well. Karen knew Plankton and Krabs had a frenemy relationship, at best; but she had never considered the possibility that Plankton could harbor any genuine feelings for the crab, delirious or not. Now, as she watched him suffer, she debated whether to tell him. Would it help? Would it hurt? She didn't know. But Plankton's curiosity was piqued. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to read her expression. "Did I do something weird?" "It's nothing," she said, forcing a laugh. "Just the usual post-surgery confusion." Plankton's eye wandered around the room, and his gaze landed on a bouquet of jellyfish on the nightstand. "Who sent those?" he asked, his voice still hoarse. Karen looked at the jellyfish, then back at him. "Mr. Krabs," she said. Plankton's eyebrow shot up. "Krabs? Why would he send me jellyfish?" Plankton's eye narrowed slightly. "Does he know about the surgery?" he asked, a hint of concerned horror in his voice. Karen nodded, "I didn't know who else to turn to," she said, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and trepidation, her voice wavering slightly, "after you were admitted, I called him. I didn't know who else to call for help. You know, with the recovery necessities." Plankton felt his stomach drop. He had hoped that his arch-nemesis, Mr. Krabs, had been blissfully unaware of his weakened state. The thought of Krabs even knowing he was laid up and helpless was more than he could bear. "You called Krabs?" he croaked, disbelief etched into his features. Karen nodded again, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "He was the only one I could think of who could help us. And he was so kind, Plankton. He didn't even make fun of you." Plankton's mind raced. The mere thought of Krabs seeing him in such a vulnerable condition was almost too much to handle. He had always prided himself on being the smarter, more cunning one, the one who could outwit Krabs at every turn. Now, here he was, unable to chew, looking like a balloon with legs, and being witnessed by the very crab he had spent his life trying to outdo. "What did he see?" Plankton managed to ask, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. Karen looked surprised. "What do you mean?" "I mean, what did he see me?" Plankton's voice grew more urgent, the fear of humiliation coloring his words. "He saw you sleeping," she said gently. "But you were out of it. You don't have to worry about him." Plankton felt a wave of embarrassment. "How did I look?" "Looked like you were sleeping peacefully," Karen said, trying to reassure him. But she knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that he looked strong, in control, not like the blubbering mess he actually was. Plankton sighed, the sound a sad, defeated hiss. "I can't believe you called him," he said, his voice filled with a mix of pain and annoyance. Karen's hand tightened on his shoulder. "I had to," she said firmly. "You needed someone, and he was the only one I could think of who would help." Plankton's gaze fell to the bouquet of jellyfish. "I hope I didn't budge or talk?" he asked, his voice tight. Karen squeezed his hand. "You were completely out of it," she assured him. "He said you looked tired." Plankton's eye searched hers for any hint of mockery, but all he found was sincerity. He took a deep breath, the pain in his cheeks flaring up, and nodded. He knew he had to accept help, but the thought of Krabs knowing he was down, even for a moment, was maddening. He shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make his mouth throb. "What else happened, with Krabs?" he asked, his voice strained. "He just dropped off the jellyfish and said to tell you to get better soon," Karen said, not giving answers. "I've said all I can say." The silence grew tense as Plankton's mind whirled with scenarios of what Krabs might have seen or heard. He knew his rival had a knack exploiting weakness, and he couldn't let his guard down, even in a state like this. He had to recover quickly, be sharp, to ensure that Krabs didn't use this moment of vulnerability against him. He also knew Karen's not gonna tell him whatever went down. Karen, noticing his discomfort, decided to change the subject. "I'll go grab some ice cream for you," she offered, standing up. "It'll help with the swelling, but don't do anything foolish while I'm gone." Plankton nodded, his thoughts racing. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, he began to formulate a plan. He had to speak to Krabs, to make sure there were no misunderstandings, no ammo for future taunts. Wincing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, using the momentum to stand up. He wobbled for a moment, his head spinning, but steadied himself against the wall. In his office at the krusty krab, Mr. Krabs sat at the table, sipping a cup of tea and staring at the floor. He had hoped Plankton's odd behavior was just the drugs talking, but deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. He had felt a strange warmth when Plankton had called him 'my dearest friend' in his delirious state. But friends? That was a concept that seemed as foreign to him as a day without the Krabby Patty. He sighed, setting the cup down. It was nonsense, of course. Plankton was just confused. He had to be. After all, they had spent years in a cutthroat competition, stealing ideals, customers, the occasional secret ingredient. The thought of Plankton actually caring for him was absurd. But as he sat, Krabs couldn't help but feel a twinge of something he hadn't felt in a long time—awkward. But Plankton wasn't one to let things go easily. After a few moments of gathering his strength, he shuffled out of the bedroom, the pain in his mouth a distant second to the urgency of his mission. He goes to the Krusty Krab. He pushed open the door to the restaurant, the bell jingling overhead. Mr. Krabs looked up from his ledger, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Plankton stumble in. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You should be resting!" Plankton's eye narrowed, his jaw clenched in pain. "I need to talk to you," he ground out, each word a challenge. Mr. Krabs' claws clutched the edge of the table, twitching nervously. "Sure, sure," he said, trying to sound casual. "What's on your mind?" "Not here," Plankton hissed, gesturing to the open restaurant. The last thing he wanted was for their conversation to be overheard by prying ears, especially not by customers. Mr. Krabs, visibly confused, nodded and led him out back. The tension in the air was palpable. "Alright, what's so important?" he asked, trying to keep his cool. Plankton took a deep breath, his cheeks flushing with pain. "What did I say to you after the surgery?" he demanded, his voice gruff. "What do you mean?" he stalled, heart racing. Plankton's voice was low and intense. "You know what I mean," he said. "What happened at the house?" Mr. Krabs' eyes searched Plankton's for any hint of a bluff, but found only pain and determination. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his secret lift slightly. "You don't remember?" he asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Plankton's gaze was unwavering. "I remember enough," he said, voice tight. "I just know you were there. Don't gloat. Spill." Mr. Krabs looked at him, realization sinking in. He met Plankton's gaze. "You were in a bit of pain," he said, his voice carefully measured. "You were talking nonsense." "What kind of nonsense?" he demanded. Mr. Krabs took a step back, his eyes darting around the alleyway. "Oh, you know, the usual post-surgery babble," he said, trying to play it off. "Nothing important." But Plankton wasn't buying it. He could see relief in Krabs' eyes, and it made him more nervous. "I need to know," he insisted, his voice hoarse. "What did I say?" Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws drumming on the counter. "Said something about how we've been through a lot together?" But Pearl, Mr. Krabs' daughter, interrupted, wandering in, phone in hand, scrolling through images. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Look what I found on the phone!" Mr. Krabs' heart sank as he realized what's happening. He turned to see Pearl holding up a phone showing a photo of Plankton, post-surgery, asleep with his head resting on Krabs' elbow.

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH v "I need to know," he insisted, his voice hoarse. "What did I say?" Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws drumming on the counter. "Something about how we've been through a lot?" But Pearl, Mr. Krabs' daughter, interrupted, wandering in, phone in hand, scrolling through images. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Look what I found on the phone!" Mr. Krabs' heart sank as he realized what's happening. He turned to see Pearl holding up a phone showing a photo of Plankton, post-surgery, asleep with his head resting on Krabs' elbow as Plankton's arm was slung around him. The expression on Plankton's face was one of complete peace, with his mouth hanging open slightly, a stark contrast to the fiery look in his eye now. "Oh, Plankton!" Pearl exclaimed, spotting him standing there. "You look so cute sleeping all snuggled up to Daddy! You even drooled a bit on Dad's shirt! It's gone viral, and it got me more views!" The whale's innocent revelation hit the two like a ton of bricks. Mr. Krabs' eyes bulged, and his claws shot up to cover his mouth. "Pearl, what in Neptune's name are you doing with me phone?" he spluttered, his voice tight with panic. Pearl looked up, her cheery demeanor unchanged. "Oh, I just borrowed it to send myself, which I forwarded to post. Didn't you know you had this adorable selfie with Plankton?" She giggled, unaware of the tension in the air. Plankton's shocked mind was a blur, trying to piece together the reality of the moment. He looked from the photo to Mr. Krabs and back again, utterly speechless. The sight of himself in such a compromising position with his enemy was surreal. His mind raced, trying to remember any semblance of a conversation that could have led to this bizarre scenario. Mr. Krabs' face was a mask of horror, his claws fumbling for words. "It's not what it looks like," he stammered. But Plankton was beyond speech. The image of himself, in such a vulnerable state, nestled against Mr. Krabs was burned into his retina. His mind reeled, trying to grasp the reality of the situation. All the bravado, all the plotting and scheming, reduced to this: a mushy, love-struck expression shared with his mortal enemy. "You... you..." Plankton sputtered, his voice failing him. Mr. Krabs reached for the phone, his claws trembling. "It's just... a... a... I don't know what it is!" But Pearl was already skipping away, chuckling to herself. "You guys are so cute together!" she called over her shoulder, oblivious to the storm brewing between them. Mr. Krabs looked at Plankton, his expression a mix of horror and pleading. "It's not what it looks like," he repeated, his voice cracking. But Plankton was too far gone. The embarrassment and anger were a red haze in front of his eye. Neither of them knew how to navigate this sudden shift in their dynamic. The air was thick with tension and confusion, punctuated only by the distant sound of the ocean. Plankton's burning with a mix of anger and embarrassment. He could feel the swelling in his mouth and the weight of Mr. Krabs' secret pressing down on him like a lead balloon. Mr. Krabs, on the other hand, was frozen, his eyes darting from the phone to Plankton's face and back again. He knew he had to say something, do something, to fix this mess before it spun out of control. But what? Plankton's thoughts were racing, a tornado of rage and humiliation swirling in his head. He had to get out of there, to think, to figure out what this all meant. With a snarl, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the Krusty Krab, slamming. His footsteps echoed off the cobblestone as he made his way back to the chum bucket, his mind racing with questions. Karen arrived home with a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream, humming to herself, oblivious to the drama just unfolded. "Honey, I'm home!" she called out cheerfully, finding Plankton in bed. Karen stepped into the bedroom, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Plankton. "Look what I got you," she sang, holding up the ice cream. But Plankton's eye were glued to the door, his mind a maelstrom of emotions. He couldn't look at her, not without giving away the turmoil inside. "You're supposed to be resting," Karen chided gently, setting the ice cream on the nightstand. "I thought you'd be resting." Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the door, his thoughts a tangled mess. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, not yet. Karen's smile faltered as she noticed his distant gaze. "What's wrong, dear?" she asked, setting the ice cream on the nightstand. Plankton took a deep breath, his thoughts racing. He didn't know how to tell her about the photo, about the way Mr. Krabs had looked at him. He couldn't bear the thought of her pity, or worse, her laughter. "Nothing," he said, his voice tight. "Just tired." Karen's smile returned, and she leaned over to kiss his forehead. "You've had a long day yesterday," she said. But Plankton's mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the image of himself with Mr. Krabs from his head. The photo was like a taunting specter, a constant reminder of his vulnerability. "You oughtta eat," Karen said, her voice filled with concern. She picked up the spoon and began to scoop out a small bite of the mint chocolate chip. Plankton turned to face her, his expression unreadable. But the words stuck in his throat like a mouthful of dry chum. He swallowed hard, then opened his mouth, letting her gently guide the spoon inside. The cold ice cream soothed his sore gums, but the bitter taste of his situation lingered. As Karen fed him, Plankton couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for not confiding in her immediately. But what could he say? That he apparently must've had a moment of weakness, and Mr. Krabs had seen it all? That his arch-nemesis had cradled him like a baby and whispered sweet nothings? No, he already figured out how she didn't take her life later eyes off him at all yesterday, knowing she must've seen. He took the spoon, his hand shaking slightly. "I can do it," he murmured, trying to regain some semblance of control. Karen watched him with a worried gaze as he took a tentative bite, his cheeks still red from the encounter. She could sense something was amiss, but she didn't push it. She knew Plankton well enough to know that he can tell her if or when he was ready. The silence in the room was thick, punctuated only by the soft clink of the spoon against the plastic tub. Karen's mind was racing, trying to piece together what could have happened since she left to get ice cream. "Plankton," she began, her voice soft. "Is there something you want to tell me?" He looked up, his eye a swirl of emotions. But the words remained lodged in his throat. He couldn't tell her about the photo, about Mr. Krabs' kindness, about the way it made him feel. It was too much, too raw. Instead, he just shook his head. "Just... processing." Karen studied Plankton's face, her aching for her husband. She knew he wasn't one to easily admit defeat, and the surgery had clearly taken a toll. "Well," she said gently. "If you need anything, I'm here." Plankton nodded, his gaze dropping to the half-eaten tub of ice cream. His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and anger. He had to figure out what to do with this newfound information about Mr. Krabs. The very idea that he might have acted up in front of his enemy, even in a drugged state, was unbearable, let alone not knowing or remembering anything. A few hours later, Karen decided to check her phone, which had been buzzing with notifications. She saw that she had missed several messages from Pearl, Mr. Krabs' daughter, and clicked open the chat with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. But what she found? The photo of Plankton, post-surgery and vulnerable, with Mr. Krabs' arm around him was plastered all over her social media feeds. It had gone viral, with captions ranging from "Plankton's new BFF" to "When your enemy becomes your nurse." Plankton had seen the photo, and it was eating away at him. She knew her husband's pride and competitive nature; this was a blow he wouldn't take lightly. She set the phone down, her mind racing with ways to help him. She needed to comfort him, to make him see that this moment of weakness didn't define him. Taking a deep breath, she approached the bedroom door, the smell of mint chocolate chip ice cream wafting from within. She gently pushed the door open, her eyes immediately finding Plankton's hunched form in the bed. His gaze was fixed on the wall, his expression a storm of emotions. "Plankton," she said again, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I saw the photo." He flinched, his eye snapping to hers with accusation. Karen sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Pearl sent it," she admitted. "It's everywhere. I'm sorry." Karen took his hand, her touch gentle but firm. "You're more than a photo, Plankton," she said. "You're a brilliant scientist, a loving husband, and a formidable adversary. This doesn't change that." But Plankton couldn't see it. All he could see was mockery and humiliation that awaited him outside the safety of their chum bucket. "I can't let him think he's won," he murmured, his voice laced with pain. Mr. Krabs picked up the phone and dialed Karen's number, his heart racing with every ring. When she finally answered, he took a deep breath. "It's Krabs," he said, his voice gruff but earnest. "I need to talk to Plankton." Karen's tone was wary. "What for?" Mr. Krabs swallowed his pride. "I... I just want to make sure he's okay," he said. Karen's voice softened. "He's not in a good place right now," she admitted. "But I'll pass the message along." "Tell him... tell him I didn't mean to embarrass him," he said, with regret. "And that I'm sorry for... everything." Karen's expression softened. "I'll let him know," she said before hanging up.

LEGGY i Plankton had an accident and needed surgery on his leg. SpongeBob and Patrick decided to pay him a visit. Their friend lay in the hospital bed, anesthetized, snoring softly. "Thank you," Karen said. "We appreciate it. They had to reset the bone and sew it back together. He won't feel anything now, but once the anesthesia wears off, he'll be in some pain. Your support means a lot to us.” "How long does he have to stay asleep?" he asked. "Awhile," she said. "It's important for him to rest and recover. Plankton might be a bit...overwhelmed when he wakes up. He might not be able to respond right now." "What's that?" he pointed at the intravenous drip attached to Plankton's arm. "That's the anesthesia, what keeps him asleep during the surgery so he doesn't feel any pain." Patrick's eyes grew wide with wonder. "What's that like?" "Well, it's like being in a deep sleep," she began, "you don't feel anything, and when you wake up, it's like you never left your bed." His chest rises and falls with each gentle snore, a sound that echoes faintly in the quiet room. "Karen, why’s he snoring?" "It's his body's way of breathing while asleep. He’s in a deep sleep." The lead doctor came. "We're going to start bringing him out of it now. He'll be coming out of anesthesia soon." Eventually Plankton's eye fluttered open, looking up at them with a glazed expression before his pupil focused. "Wha...where...what happened?" he stuttered, his voice groggy. "Why does everything feel...so...floaty?" he asked, his voice trailing off as he tried to lift his head, and it flopped back down onto the pillow. "Whoa, ship's a-rockin'!" he exclaimed. "Weeeee!" he giggled. "A Krabby Patty...no, a Krabby Patty...no, wait, a Krabby...a Krabby...a Krabby..." His words trailed off to nonsense, and he started to giggle uncontrollably. "He'll be fine, just let him talk it out." "I need...I need...a...a...Krabby...P...P...Patty!" He giggled again, his mind still a bit foggy. "Look, friends! Look at me go!" The doctor and nurse entered the room, checking Plankton's vitals and smiling at his slurred words. "He's coming out of it normally," the doctor assured them. "You can keep talking to him, it'll help him come back to reality." SpongeBob and Patrick exchanged glances. "Krabby Patty, huh?" Sponge Bob said. "Well, I'm sure we can find you one once you're feeling better." Plankton giggled again, eye drifted to the side. "But for now, let's just focus on getting you well, okay?" The doctor nodded. "He'll be in and out of consciousness for a bit. It's perfectly normal." Patrick leaned in closer to Plankton. "You hear that, Plankton? We're here for you, buddy.” He hands him some water. "Ahh," he sighed, eye fluttering shut again. "Krabby...Patty...water...good." “You just rest up, and we'll grab you a Krabby Patty when you're all fixed." Plankton's giggles turned into snores again, his eyelid drooping closed. The doctor chuckled. "It's the medication. He'll be in and out like this for a little while. Just keep talking to him, it'll help keep him grounded." The door to the hospital room creaked open, and Mr. Krabs poked his head in. "Sponge Bob! Patrick!" he bellowed. Mr. Krabs' eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of Plankton in the hospital bed. "Heard about the accident," he said gruffly. "Thought I'd check on the little scram." Plankton's eye snapped open again, his expression shifting. "Krabs!" he hissed. "What are you doing?" Mr. Krabs waved a dismissive claw. "Just makin' sure my number one competitor is out of commission," he said with a smirk. "But it seems you're in good company." "Mr. Krabs, we're here to support Plankton. He's had a rough day." Mr. Krabs' smirk grew. "Ah, yes, the great Plankton, laid low by his own incompetence. Couldn't even steal a Krabby Patty without breaking a leg." The room grew tense as Plankton's face reddened, his tiny fists balling up the hospital sheets. "It wasn't like that, Krabs," he protested, his voice strained. "It was an accident!" But Mr. Krabs was relentless. "Always an accident with you, isn't it?" He chuckled, his tone mocking. "You're as clumsy as you are small." Sponge Bob took a deep breath, his heart swelling with hope. "Mr. Krabs, now's not the best time to tease him. Plankton's really hurting." The tension grew thicker than a Kelp Shake. Plankton's tiny frame quivered with indignation. The anesthesia, however, was playing tricks on his emotions. He could feel the tears welling up in his eye, and before he knew it, they were spilling over, down his cheeks. "Ah, don't listen to him, Plankton," Sponge Bob whispered, his own eyes growing misty. "You're not incompetent. It was just an accident." Karen's screen flickered. "Mr. Krabs, please. He's not well." "I don't need pity, Krabs!" he spat out, his voice filled with embarrassment. Karen's screen flickered again. "Mr. Krabs, he needs space. He'll be in and out of it for a bit longer, but perhaps he'd appreciate the visit when fully conscious." Mr. Krabs then left. Plankton's breathing grew even, and his eye began to droop. "I think he's falling asleep," Patrick whispers. "Alright, he's all set to go home.." They nodded solemnly, eager to get their friend back to his safe haven, the Chum Bucket. Carefully, they helped him into a wheelchair, his sleepy head lolling onto Sponge Bob's shoulder. "Mmm, Krabby Patty," he murmured, his mumbled voice trailing off into a snore. Patrick held the car door open as Sponge Bob gently maneuvered Plankton, trying not to jostle him much. He snored quietly, his body still feeling the effects of anesthesia. They buckled him into the back seat, his head lolling to the side as SpongeBob sat by him. The car's gentle vibrations and the soft hum of the engine lulled Plankton further into his slumber. His snores grew louder, echoing through the car. Sponge Bob watched him, his heart aching at the sight of his friend. He reached over and patted his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Plankton," he whispered. "You're going to be ok." The drive to the Chum Bucket was quiet, punctuated only by Plankton's intermittent snoring and the occasional burst of slurred words. "Karen...chum...water... Krabby Patty...friend," he would murmur, his voice a gentle reminder of the person behind the villain. "Chum...Karen...Krabs...Sponge...Bob...Patrick...Krabby Patty...Karen...chum...chum...chum..." Sponge Bob and Patrick shared a look in the rearview mirror, their expressions a mix of concern and amusement. "It's like he's having a conversation with himself," Patrick whispered. "Must be anesthesia," Sponge Bob said, his voice low so as not to disturb Plankton. "He'd probably remember none of it when he wakes up." Once they arrived at the Chum Bucket, they carefully transferred Plankton to his bed, snores becoming less frequent and more rhythmic as he slipped into a deeper sleep. They left him with a glass of water and a bowl of chum for when he awoke, feeling a bit of relief knowing he was home and safe. Hours later, Plankton's snoring finally ceased, and he blinked his eye open, feeling a dull ache in his leg, Sponge Bob and Patrick sitting by his bed in his bedroom. "What’s...what happened?" he asked. "You had surgery, Plankton. Remember? You hurt your leg pretty badly." "Surgery?" he repeated, his voice still thick with sleep. "I had surgery?" He glanced down at his bandaged leg, the memory of the accident slowly coming back to him. "Oh, right." Patrick's eyes lit up. "Oh, you were out of it, buddy!“ Plankton's smile faded as he took in his surroundings. "How long?" "A few hours," Sponge Bob said. "But don't worry, Karen's in the lab, just in case you need anything." Patrick leaned in closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You should've seen it, Plankton! You were snoring!" Sponge Bob playfully elbowed him. "Pat.." Patrick couldn't contain himself. "And when Mr. Krabs came in, oh boy!" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You started crying!" Plankton's embarrassment morphing into anger. "That's not funny, Patrick." he snapped, his voice sharp. Patrick nodded, with mirth. “Oh yeah, you were talking in your sleep, Plankton; you’re like, 'Krabby Patty...Chum...Karen...Patrick...Sponge Bob...'!" Plankton's frown deepened as he tried to sit up, only to wince in pain. "Krabby Patties?" "You'd get all excited about your latest plan, and then—just like that," SpongeBob said, snapping his fingers, as Patrick pretended to snore loudly. Plankton's eye widened. "No?" But Patrick had to prove Plankton's sleep-talking escapade. Patrick's laughter was contagious, and even Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Plankton's dazed expression. Plankton's sleep-addled face, his mouth moving in a slurred chant and the occasional snort that punctuated his words. Patrick tried to mimic Plankton's slurred speech, which only made him giggle more. "You're even drooling!" he exclaimed. Sponge Bob's laughter grew quiet, feeling a twinge of pity for Plankton's embarrassment. "Patrick, maybe we should calm down," he suggested gently. "Come on, Plankton," he said. "You've got to admit, this is gold!" "Could you two at least get me something to eat?" he asked, his voice a mix of annoyance and defeat. Sponge Bob nodded, eager to change the subject. "Of course, Plankton. What would you like?" "Just...chum," Plankton mumbled, his face still flushed with embarrassment. Patrick's laughter grew louder. "Oh, come on, Plankton. You can't be serious right now!" He pretended to snore loudly, then added in a pitched voice, "Krabby Patty! Krabby Patty!" Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle. "Patrick, maybe we should—" But Patrick was in full jesting mode, his voice rising in pitch to mimic Plankton's. "Krabby Patty...chum...Krabby Patty...chum..."

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