NeuroFabulous Emojis & Text

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 1 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Plankton's autistic, which both he and his wife Karen knew. Chip, their son who they adopted at birth, doesn't know about his dad's neurodiverse. Plankton's stubborn pride made him want to keep his autistic sensitivities a secret between himself and Karen. One evening, after a long day of school, Chip stumbled upon a stash of Plankton's sensory tools, hidden behind Plankton's bed in his room he shared with Karen. Chip felt a strange curiosity tug at him. His dad's eating chum leftovers in the kitchen, so he needs to be quick! So Chip picked up a pair of noise-canceling headphones, a fidget, and a weighted blanket, wondering why they existed. The headphones were worn, as if used often. He looked around, his heart racing. The door creaked open, and Karen poked her head in, her eyes widening when she saw him. "Chip," she said, her voice soft but firm. "What are you doing?" Chip's gaze fell, and she sighed. "You found them," she murmured, knowing that the moment Plankton fears, had arrived. Karen took a deep breath, preparing herself for the conversation she'd been putting off for years. She closed the door behind her, sat down beside Chip, and took his hand. "Your dad has something called autism," she began gently. "It's not like a cold or a scraped knee. It's in his brain, and it's part of who he is." Chip's screen searched hers, trying to understand. "Is it bad?" he asked, his voice small. "What is that?" Karen's gaze softened as she looked at her son. "No, sweetie," she assured him, squeezing his hand. "It's not bad. It's just different. You know how sometimes you get really upset about things that other kids don't? Well, your dad's brain is like that too. Sometimes things are too loud or too bright for him, and these tools help keep him calm." Chip studied the fidget in his hand, rolling it between his fingers, feeling the smoothness of the plastic and the satisfying clicks as he twisted and turned it. "So, these help him not be upset?" he asked, his curiosity growing. Karen nodded. "Exactly. And sometimes, when your dad has to focus or when he's feeling anxious, these things can help him cope." Chip's curiosity grew. "But why does he keep it a secret?" he questioned, looking up at Karen with innocent eyes. Karen swallowed hard, knowing this was a part Plankton fears greatly. She chose her words carefully. "Some people might not understand what autism is, and they might treat him differently if they knew. Your dad is self conscious about it." "But why would they?" Chip's voice was filled with confusion. "He's still daddy, isn't he?" Karen's heart melted at his pure innocence. She knew that it was time to explain the complexities of the world and the prejudices that existed, even in their quirky underwater community. "Some folks don't know how to handle things that are different," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "They can be cruel even without meaning to be." Chip's gaze dropped to the fidget toy as he absorbed his mother's words. "But why doesn't daddy just tell them how he feels?" Karen took a moment before responding. "You know when you have a bad day at school, and you come home and tell us?" Chip nodded. "Well, it's like that for your dad, but with his brain. Sometimes, it's harder for him to explain. And he doesn't want people to think less of him." Chip's thoughts raced. He'd never seen his dad as anything but the strong, quirky man who always had a new invention or a wacky plan to share. The idea of him struggling was both foreign and heartbreaking. "But what do we do?" Chip's voice was earnest, his screen fixed on Karen's. She knew this was a chance to teach him about empathy and acceptance. "We support him," Karen replied firmly. "We love him just the way he is. And maybe, one day, he'll feel ready to tell you more himself." Chip twirled the fidget, the colors blurring into one as he thought about his dad. "I won't tell others," he said finally, looking up at Karen with a determination she hadn't seen in him before. The conversation lingered in the air between them, a newfound understanding blossoming in Chip's eyes. Karen knew that his innocence had been chipped away, but she also knew that his heart was growing stronger. They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the rhythmic clicks of the fidget in Chip's hand. "Sweetie," Karen eventually said, nudging him gently. "Why don't you put these back where you found them? Your dad keeps those organized." Chip nodded, his expression serious as he placed the items back into their hidden spot. He knew that this was a secret that needed to be respected. Karen went out front to tend to the garden. Mean time, Plankton finished his eating. He found Chip on Karen's bed in the room he shared with her. "What are you doing in our room?" Plankton asked, oblivious to the fact that Chip now knew about his autism. Chip looked up, his gaze meeting Plankton's. "I'm just waiting for you," he said, hoping his voice didn't give him away. Plankton seemed to believe the answer, but his eye lingers on the bed for a moment. "Okay, buddy," Plankton said, curiosity piqued. "Need help with any homework or, is there something on your mind?" Chip took a deep breath. "Dad," he began, "Mom told me." Plankton looks at his son. "Told you what?" "About your... how, uh..." Chip swallowed hard, the words sticking in his throat. What'd she call it again? "My what?" Plankton's face was a picture of confusion and then something else - fear, perhaps? - flashing across his features. Chip took a deep breath, his heart thumping in his chest. "Dad, Mom said you're a... a..." He stumbled over the word, unsure if it was right or not. "Ret-..." he spat out, the word feeling strange and heavy in his mouth. Plankton froze, the color draining from his face as the slur hit him like a slap in the face. His eye searched the room desperately, as if looking for an escape. But Chip merely shrugged. "It's just what Mom told me," he said. "It's what yo--" "Your mother," Plankton began, his voice sharp with emotion, "she said that?" Chip's eyes went wide, his screen a mix of surprise and confusion. "Yep, it's what Mom said you are," he replied. Plankton's body trembled with rage. The slur stung more than any insult he'd ever heard, and it came from his own son, and apparently his wife's. "I'm only repeating Mom," Chip says quickly, seeing the pain in his father's face. "She said that exact word." Plankton's fists clench. "I-I-I-I…" But Chip cuts him off. "That's the word she used," he says, his voice shaking. "But I don't get why you're so upset. It's just a word, right? Mom says it's who you are and always have been.." Plankton's heart sank deeper. He'd never heard his condition spoken of in such a derogatory way, not by anyone he loved. He took a deep breath, tears in his eye as Chip went into his own room.

Karen had always loved her husband Plankton. His mind was a bastion of order in a world that often seemed too noisy and chaotic for him. Plankton had a way of seeing patterns and connections that she never could. He'd spend hours meticulously categorizing his collections. It was his way of making sense of the world, a comforting rhythm she learned to appreciate. But today was one of those days where Plankton's brain seemed to betray him. It was a silent, unassuming morning until Plankton froze. His eye glazes over, and his body stiffened like a plank. Karen's heart skipped a beat, knowing all too well what was happening. Her mind raced as she quickly took action. She guided him to the safe spot they'd designated for these moments, a corner padded with cushions and devoid of sharp edges. His body began to convulse, a symphony of uncontrolled movements that didn't match the calmness of the surroundings. She felt her own heart race, her palms sweating, but she knew she had to be his rock, his anchor. Suddenly his friend Sponge Bob came in; he's never seen nor heard of Plankton like this before. "What's happening to him?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice quivering with concern. Karen took a deep breath. "He has autistic seizures," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's like his brain gets overwhelmed with stimuli, and it just... short-circuits." SpongeBob's eyes widened beyond belief, taking in the scene before him. Plankton's tiny frame jerked and tremored. It was a stark contrast to the precise, orderly Plankton he knew. "Is he okay?" Sponge Bob stammered, his hands waving in the air, unsure what to do. "Just stay calm," Karen instructed, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "These usually pass quickly. I need to make sure he doesn't hurt himself." She moved swiftly, carefully placing pillows under his head. Sponge Bob nodded, his concern growing as he watched his friend suffer. He wished he could do something, anything to help. "Can I talk to him?" he asked tentatively, his thumbs tucked into his pants, fidgeting. "It's better to let him be," Karen advised gently. "He can't process much during this. But once it's over, you can." When Plankton's convulsions finally ceased, his body limp, and his eye flutters closed. Karen checked his pulse, sighing in relief when she found it steady and strong. She looked up at Sponge Bob, her expression a mix of worry and fatigue. "Just be there for him when he wakes up," Karen said. "He'll be disoriented. He might not understand what happened." Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for Plankton, trapped in his own mind during these episodes. As Karen tended to Plankton, Sponge Bob felt a surge of curiosity. With a newfound determination, Sponge Bob turned to Karen, his eyes brimming with hope. "Could he maybe like... can he understand me now?" Karen looked at Plankton, still twitching, but clearly drained. She nodded slowly. "He can hear you. Just keep it simple and soothing." Sponge Bob approached cautiously, his eyes fixed on his friend. He knelt down and took Plankton's hand in his spongy grip. "Plankton," he whispered, "It's me, Sponge Bob. You're safe now." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, a hint of recognition flickering across his face. Karen offered Sponge Bob a small, grateful smile. She knew how much Plankton valued his friendship. Sponge Bob cleared his throat, his words gentle and measured. "Remember when we played catch with jellyfish?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're the best at catching them, Plankton. Your reflexes are so fast, it's like you're a jellyfish ninja." Karen smiles. Plankton's eye is open, but unfocused, as if looking through Sponge Bob instead of at him. His pupil is dilated, and his gaze is distant. Sponge Bob's heart swells with a mix of hope and concern. "Plankton?" he calls again, a little louder this time. No response, just the slightest twitch. He's there, but not really. Karen watches closely, a silent guardian making sure her husband doesn't slip back into the chaos that had consumed him. The room feels eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual symphony of sounds that filled their lives. Karen's eyes are filled with love and fear, a potent mix that's all too familiar. She's seen this before, Plankton's mind retreating into itself when the world becomes too much. Sponge Bob squeezes Plankton's hand, trying to ground him in reality, but his friend's hand is cold and limp. "You know, Plankton," he starts again, his voice quivering slightly, "you're like a tiny superhero with a giant brain. Nothing gets past you." Then, as if a switch was flipped, Plankton's body starts to jerk again, but this time, the movements aren't the violent convulsions of a seizure. They're smaller, faster - tics. His head tilts quickly. Karen's eyes narrow slightly as she recognizes the signs. This was a common aftermath of his seizures, his brain's way of recalibrating itself. "It's okay," she soothes, her voice a gentle melody that pierced through the tension. "Just ride it out." Karen's eyes never leave his, her gaze a silent promise of protection and patience. She knew these tics were a part of his autism, a way for his body to cope with the overwhelming input. It was as if the world was too loud for him, and his body had found its own rhythm to try to drown out the noise. The tics grew more frequent, his head jerking in quick, spasmodic movements. Sponge Bob's grip tightens on his hand, his own heart racing. He didn't understand what was happening, but he knew his friend needed him now more than ever. Karen's voice remained soothing, a constant in the storm of Plankton's neurological maelstrom. "It's okay," she said softly. "Let it happen." Sponge Bob watched, his eyes wide with concern. He'd never seen his friend like this before. The tics grew in intensity, Plankton's head snapping to a nod, his limbs twitching erratically. It was like watching a tiny, trapped bird, desperately trying to find its way out of a cage made of its own nervous system. "It's okay," Karen repeated, her voice a beacon of calm in the chaos. "These are just his tics. They're part of his autism. It's his brain's way of adjusting after a seizure." Sponge Bob nodded, trying to absorb the information. He'd known Plankton for years but had never known or seen him like this. Then Plankton's eye focused on Sponge Bob. A flicker of recognition sparked in the depths. "Sp...Sponge Bob?" he stuttered, his voice weak and tremulous. Sponge Bob's smile grew wider, relieved to hear his friend's voice. "Hey, buddy," he said. Plankton's head continued to twitch in a nodding motion, his eye blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on Sponge Bob's face. The tics were less intense now, but they were still present, a subtle reminder of the storm that had raged within him moments ago. Karen knew that this was the part where he'd start to come back to them. Karen explained, "The tics can last for a bit, but he'll be back to normal soon." Sponge Bob nodded, his grip on Plankton's hand steadying as he watched his friend's eye refocus. He didn't understand it, but he knew Plankton needed time. As the tics began to subside, Plankton's hand squeezed Sponge Bob's in weak acknowledgment. Sponge Bob felt a wave of relief crash over him. "I'm here," he murmured, his voice quiet and reassuring. Plankton's breathing grew more even, his body finally relaxing. The twitches gradually slowed until they were barely noticeable. It was like watching a tightly wound clockwork toy slowly unwinding. Karen reached over to stroke Plankton's arm, her touch feather-light. "You're going to be okay," she said. (my search NeuroFabulous)

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣 Pt. 1 by NeuroFabulous Karen and her husband Plankton adopted Chip as a newвorn. Chip is a good kid, but he doesn't know that his mom and dad kept a secret, which is Plankton's autism. Plankton was only comfortable with Karen knowing of it. She knew all his different tics, his stims, nonepileptic seizures; but Plankton's unsure of sharing it with his son. His pride made him not want others to ever find out! But one day, that all changed, for Chip found out the hard way. He stumbled upon his dad having an absence seizure, not knowing what it meant, what was happening. Karen was out front gardening when Chip went into his parents bedroom to the sight of Plankton on his bed. He sat rigidly stiff, his unblinking eye unseeing. "Dad?" Chip called out, his voice trembling with fear. He had never seen his father like this before. Plankton didn't respond, lost in his moment of absence. Cautiously, Chip approached the bed. With trembling fingers, he gently squeezed his dad's shoulder. "Dad?" he repeated. No reply. Panic began to set in, his heart racing. "Dad, wake up!" Chip shouted, his voice cracking with worry. Chip tried to shake his dad gently, but Plankton remained motionless. He was scared, unsure. He doesn't know about seizures, let alone absence seizures. "Dad, please," he whispered, his voice quivering. He didn't know what to do. The room felt eerie, as if the air had become thick and stıll. Chip looked around desperately, his eyes searching for anything that might explain what was happening. He saw a picture of the family on the bedside table. The happy faces in the picture seemed to contrast sharply with the scene before him. He tried to shake his dad a little more forcefully this time. "Wake up, Dad!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet room. The fear was now turning into desperation. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he sat on the bed beside his dad. He took Plankton's hand in his own. "Dad," he whimpered. Nothing. He decided to try talking to him, maybe it would help bring him back. "Dad, it's me, Chip. Remember when we went to the beach last summer and you taught me to build sandcastles?" His voice was shaky, but he continued, "You said I was the best sand sculptor you've ever seen. Remember the seagulls that kept stealing our snacks?" Yet Plankton remained motionless. The silence grew heavier, pressing down on Chip like a weıght he couldn't lift. He swallowed hard, his mind racing. "Dad, please come back," he begged, shaking his father's arm. He didn't know to wait it out, ending up sending Plankton deeper into his overload, his eye even more vacant. Chip's thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and fear. "What if he's hurt?" He whispered to himself. He knew he had to tell his mom. But what could she do? Would she be mad if he did something wrong? Besides he didn't want to leave his dad alone. "Dad, I love you so much," he said, tears spilling over. He decided to sing. "The wheels on the bus go round and round," he began, it being the first song that popped into mind. He hoped that would somehow break the silence that had overtaken his dad. He sang softly, his voice wavering as the lyrics filled the room. His small hand tightly gripped his dad's, willing him to return to reality. Nothing. So he stopped singing. With a tremble in his voıce, Chip decided to try again to make a connection. "Dad," he began, "do you remember when you took me to the arcade and I beat you at Whack-A-Mole?" He paused, hoping for a reaction, a twitch of antennae, anything. "I don't want you to go any where, Dad. I need you here." Just as he finished speaking, he heard the front door opening. His mom must've finished gardening! He didn't want her to find them like this, but he knew he needed her help. He didn't know how else to get his dad to wake. "Mom!" Chip yelled, his voice strained and desperate. "Come quick!" The sound of her footsteps grew closer, the tension in the house palpable. He felt his throat tighten, his eyes blurring with tears. Karen rushed into the room. Her eyes scanned the scene, quickly assessing the situation. Seeing Plankton on the bed, she knew instantly what was going on. She had seen it before, too many times to count. Her heart ached for Chip's innocent confusion. "It's okay, sweetie," she said, trying to calm Chip's nerves as she sat beside him. "Your dad's just having a moment. It's like a little nap, but for his brain." She took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You don't have to be scared. He'll be back in a bit." Karen had prepared herself for this day, knowing it could come eventually. She had learned early on what Plankton needed during his episodes. Now it was time to explain it to their son. She took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton's vacant one. "Chip," she began, her voice soothing, "you know how sometimes you get really into your toys and don't hear me when I call?" He nodded. "It's like that for Dad right now, but with his brain. He can't really hear or see us. We just have to wait for him to come back." She stroked Plankton's arm. This was something she had experienced countless times, but seeing her son's fear was a new kind of pain. "Remember, Chip," she whispered, "his brain is just taking a little break. It's like he's in a bubble right now. We have to wait until he pops out." Karen knew that Plankton needed quiet and space during his seizures. She gently took over, moving Chip aside to give Plankton the room his overstimulated mind required. She sat down next to her husband, placing a calming hand on his back. Her touch was gentle, familiar. The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Karen's heart was beating fast, but her voice remained calm and soothing. "It's okay, Plankton," she murmured. "You're safe here. It's just us." Chip watched his mom, his eyes wide with questions. He had never seen his dad like this before, and it scared him. But the way Karen spoke to Plankton, with such patience and understanding, was comforting.

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY v (By NeuroFabulous) Karen held Plankton tightly, his sobs shaking both of them. "It's okay," she murmured, stroking his back. "You're still my husband. You're still Chip's dad." Her voice was a salve to his soul, but the wound was deep. In Chip's room, the silence was deafening. He sat on his bed, staring at the wall, his thoughts racing. He had never meant to hurt Plankton like that. He had just wanted his dad to be like everyone else's. He didn't understand why it had to be so hard. Outside, the sound of Karen trying to comfort Plankton's sobs drifted under the door, each one a knife in Chip's heart. He had never heard his dad cry before, and it made him feel like the biggest jerk in the sea. What had he done? He didn't want Plankton to go anywhere. He just wanted all to be okay. He sat on his bed, his eyes blurring with tears as he tried to piece together what had just happened. His mind raced with thoughts of his dad, his hero, his rock, now a crumbling mess in his mother's arms. He couldn't bear to think of the pain he had caused. He stood up, his legs shaking slightly as he approached the door. Karen looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and tired, but filled with a fierce love that never wavered. Plankton was still sobbing into her shoulder, his body trembling with the force of his pain. Chip felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest tight with regret. "I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice small and shaky. "I didn't mean it. I just..." But the words trailed off, his throat thick with unshed tears. Karen looked up at him, her eyes brimming with a mix of love and disappointment. "Chip," she said, her voice firm but gentle, "you need to understand. Your dad can't just turn his autism off." She took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving Chip's. "And we love him just the way he is." Plankton's body convulsed with each sob, his fear palpable in the tiny room. He had always known his condition set him apart, but to hear his son say such things... It was more than he could bear. Karen looked at Chip, her expression a mix of anger and sadness. "Chip, what you said was hurtful," she began, her voice shaking with emotion. "But you need to know that your dad's autism is just part of who he is." Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his body slowly calming down as he heard Karen's words. He knew she was right, but the fear remained, a cold knot in his stomach. Fear of rejection, fear of being seen as a burden, fear of losing the ones he loved most. Chip's eyes were glued to the floor, the weight of his words pressing down on him like a heavy stone. He felt like a monster, a creature that had lashed out without thought for the consequences. He took a tentative step forward. "Dad," he whispered, his voice choking with tears. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it." Plankton's convulsions slowly subsided, his body still tense against Karen's embrace. His eye was closed tightly, as if trying to block out the painful reality. Plankton's convulsions grew less intense, his body slowly relaxing into Karen's embrace. His breathing was ragged, his antennas quivering slightly with each exhale. The look in his eye spoke volumes, a swirl of emotions that seemed to mirror the turmoil in Chip's own heart. The room was a stark contrast to the chaotic underwater world outside, the silence interrupted only by the occasional sniffle from Plankton. Karen's gaze never left Chip's face, her expression a mix of love and disappointment. "Your father's autism is a part of him, Chip," she continued, her voice measured. "It's like his brain has its own language, and sometimes it's hard for him to translate it to ours. But that doesn't make him any less of a person, or any less of a dad." Chip felt a knot in his stomach, his regret growing with every word Karen said. He had never thought about it like that before—his dad wasn't broken or weird, just different. And he had hurt him so badly. "But I just want him to be normal," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Why ca--" "Normal?" Plankton's voice was harsher than Chip had ever heard it. He pulled away from Karen, his eye blazing with a fierce intensity. "Chip, maybe you're the one who needs to leave.." "Plankton," Karen said, her voice a plea. "This isn't helping." But Plankton's face was a mask of pain and anger. Chip's heart raced, his dad's words cutting deeper than any insult he had ever heard. "Dad," he said, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean it." But Plankton was beyond reason, his emotions a swirling maelstrom of anger and hurt. "Get out," he said, his voice cold and final. Karen's eyes widened with shock, but she knew better than to argue with him when he was like this. She stood, carefully setting Plankton aside. He didn't move, just sat there, his body rigid with pain. "Come on, Chip," she said gently, her hand on his shoulder. "Let's give your dad some space." Chip's eyes were filled with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of his father's pain. He didn't know what to do, his mind racing with fear and regret. He allowed Karen to lead him out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them, leaving Plankton alone with his thoughts.

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY i (By NeuroFabulous) Chip and his friend Alex go to the Chum Bucket, where Chip lives with his parents Karen and Plankton. Chip had been looking forward to this moment all week. His friend Alex, the new kid in school, was finally coming over to his place. Chip's thought about the endless possibilities of what they could do together. Would they play video games? Maybe build a fort? Or, if they were lucky, his mom Karen might let them have ice cream before dinner.. The door swung open. "Welcome to the Chum Bucket," Chip said with a proud smile, leading Alex inside. Karen looked up from her book. "Hi," Alex said nervously. Karen's eyes widened. "Oh, hello!" She hadn't been expecting company. But she put down her book. "You must be Alex!" Alex nodded. "Hi, Chip's mom," they mumbled. "Just call me Karen, sweetie," she replied, her voice as warm as a freshly baked pie. "You two have fun!" She turned back to her book, her screen dancing with curiosity as they climbed the stairs. Chip's room was at the end of the hall, but they weren't going there yet. "C'mon," he whispered to Alex, his screen sparkling with excitement. "I want to show you my Dad!" He led him to the bed room door. They tiptoed closer. Plankton's on the bed. Alex peered around the doorframe, their curiosity piqued. "Surprise!" Chip shouted, jumping forward. Plankton's antennas shot straight up, a mix of shock and annoyance. But Plankton didn't move. He remained frozen in place, his eye vacant and unblinking. Alex took a step back, concerned. Chip's excitement faded into puzzlement. "Dad?" he called out, nudging Plankton's arm. No response, not even a twitch. They both stared at him, the room silent except for the faint buzz of a neon sign outside. Plankton's body was rigid. Chip felt a twinge of fear. This wasn't like his dad, who was always bursting with ideas and energy. Alex's grip on the doorknob tightened. They approached the bed slowly. Plankton remained unblinking. "Dad, are you ok?" Chip asked, his voice cracking. He reached out to shake him gently. Plankton's arm was cold and stiff, like a mannequin. Chip's heart raced. He'd never seen his dad like this before. Alex's eyes widened in alarm, their grip on the doorknob turning white. They stepped back, exchanging glances. "Chip, what's going on?" Alex whispered, fear seeping into their voice. Chip's eyes searched the room, his heart racing. "I don't know," he replied, "but we have to do something!" He rushed to the bedside, his hands trembling as he touched his dad's face. "Dad! Dad!" Alex hovered near the door, unsure of what to do. "Should we get your mom?" Chip nodded, his voice shaking. "Yeah, we need to tell." They both bolted out of the room and sprinted down the stairs. "Mom!" Chip yelled, "Something's wrong with Dad!" Karen looked up from her book, her face puzzled. "What do you mean, Chip?" But when she saw the look on his face, she set the book aside and followed them upstairs. In Plankton's room, she paused. The silence was heavy, and the tension was almost palpable. She could see the fear in Chip's eyes, mirrored in Alex's wide gaze. They pointed to the bed, where Plankton still sat, unmoving. Karen took a deep breath. She had known about Plankton's secret for years—his autism. But moments like these were always difficult to navigate. "It's okay," she assured them, her tone calm and steady. "Sometimes Daddy has these moments where he goes into his own world. It's part of who he is." She approached the bed slowly, her movements deliberate and gentle. Plankton's chest rose and fell with his breath, but he didn't acknowledge their presence. Karen placed a hand on his shoulder, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Plankton?" she called softly, her voice barely a whisper in the quiet room. No response. Her heart ached for her husband, trapped in his own thoughts. She had learned over the years to recognize the signs of his episodes, but seeing him like this never got easier. Carefully, Karen sat down beside him, her hands resting on his shoulders. "It's okay, sweetie," she murmured, her voice soothing. "You're safe." Slowly, she began to rub his back in small, comforting circles. Chip and Alex watched, silent and worried, from the doorway. Minutes ticked by like hours. Karen's gentle persistence never wavered. Then, almost imperceptibly, Plankton's shoulders relaxed, his eye blinking back into focus. He looked around the room, bewildered. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. Chip and Alex breathed out in relief. Karen smiled warmly, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "It's okay, honey," she said, her voice a lullaby. "You're back with us." Plankton's gaze found hers, his mind slowly returning from its solitary adventure. He looked from her to the two in the doorway, confusion etched on his face. Alex took a tentative step forward, their heart still racing. "Are you okay?" Plankton blinked. "What happened?" Plankton managed to ask, his voice scratchy from his silent reverie. Karen stood, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "You had one of your episodes, sweetheart," she explained gently. "But it's okay. You're back now." Chip stepped into the room, his eyes brimming with relief. "What's an episode?" Alex asked softly, their curiosity overcoming their fear. Karen turned to them, her expression gentle. "It's like his brain goes on a little trip," she said, trying to simplify it. "It's part of him. Sometimes he needs time to come back." Alex nodded, their eyes still glued to Plankton. "Does he know he does it?" they asked, their curiosity genuine. Karen squeezed Plankton's hand. "He knows, honey," she explained. "But sometimes it's like he can't stop it." Chip felt a pang of sadness, his earlier excitement now replaced with a deep concern for his father. He knew that his dad was different from other parents, but he had never seen him like this. It was as if Plankton had been taken from them for a brief moment, leaving a shell in his place.

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY ii (By NeuroFabulous) "Let's go downstairs," Karen suggested, her voice still calm but with an underlying urgency. They followed her, leaving Plankton to gather his thoughts. Once they were in the living room, Karen turned to face them. "I know this might be scary, but you guys need to remember that Dad is okay," she began, her eyes full of reassurance. "It's just his way of processing things." Chip nodded, trying to understand. Alex leaned against the wall, their mind racing with questions. "It's like when you get lost in a good book," Karen continued, looking at Alex, "you're not really gone, you're just somewhere else for a little bit." Alex nodded, their eyes reflecting their attempt to grasp the concept. "But why does he do that?" Chip asked, his voice filled with a childlike innocence that masked his worry. Karen sighed, looking from Chip to Alex. She knew it was important for Chip to understand, but she wasn't sure how much Alex needed to know. "It's complicated, Chip. But what's important is that we're here for him." Alex nodded, still not fully comprehending but willing to accept the explanation for now. They could see the love and concern in Karen's eyes and knew it was something serious. "Okay," they said quietly. But before they could leave, Karen spoke again. "Alex, can I have a word?" Alex turned, their eyes meeting Karen's steady gaze. Chip hovered in the background, sensing the gravity of the moment. "Of course," Alex replied, their voice cautious. Karen's expression grew serious, her eyes locking onto Alex's. "You know, what happens here, stays here," she said firmly. "Your friendship with Chip is important to him. And his dad's condition...it's something Chip doesn't even know about yet I will tell him, but it's a bit personal. You did nothing wrong." Alex nodded, understanding the weight of what she was asking. "I won't tell anyone," they promised, their eyes sincere. Karen took a deep breath, appreciating Alex's maturity. "Thank you," she said, giving their hand a squeeze. "But for now, I think it's best if you head on home." Alex looked at Chip, who was still trying to process everything. "But... what about our plans?" Chip's voice was small, his excitement of earlier replaced by confusion and worry. "We'll have to save them for another day, buddy," Karen said, her voice soft. "But I promise, we'll make it up to you." She gave Alex a gentle smile. "Thank you for understanding." Alex nodded solemnly, their eyes darting from Karen to Chip and back. They knew they had stumbled into a situation that was bigger than themself, and they didn't want to cause any more stress. "Okay," they murmured, "I'll go." Chip looked up at Alex, his eyes filling with unshed tears. "Do you have to?" he asked, his voice trembling. Alex forced a smile. "Yeah, I should get going. But I'll see you." They gave Chip's shoulder a comforting squeeze before turning to leave. Karen walked Alex to the door, her mind racing with thoughts of how to explain this to Chip. She knew he wasn't ready to understand Plankton's condition fully, but she also knew that keeping it a secret wasn't fair to him. As they reached the front door, Alex paused. "Is your dad going to be okay?" They asked, their voice filled with genuine concern. Chip hovered behind them, listening intently. Karen nodded, her hand on the doorknob. "Yes, he'll be fine," she assured them. "This happens from time to time. It's just part of him." Alex nodded again, their gaze lingering on Chip. "Okay," they said, trying to sound braver than they felt. "See ya, Chip." Chip managed a weak smile, his eyes still glossy. "See ya," he echoed. The door closed gently, and the house was once again filled with a tense silence.

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY iii ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ: t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᵀᵒᵖⁱᶜˢ (By NeuroFabulous) ɪ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀᴄᴛs Karen turned to Chip, her face a mask of calmness. She knew she had to explain, but she also knew it wasn't going to be easy. "Let's go talk to Dad," she said, her voice steady. Chip nodded, his hand in hers as they walked back up the stairs. Plankton was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked up as they approached. "Daddy?" Chip's voice was small and trembling. Plankton's expression shifted from confusion to realization. He knew he had been somewhere else, lost in his thoughts again. Karen sat down next to Plankton, her eyes meeting Chip's. "Chip, sweetie, there's something we need to tell you about Daddy," she began, her voice a gentle whisper. Chip looked at her, his eyes full of questions. "What is it, Mom?" Karen took a deep breath. "Your Dad has something called autism," she began, her voice soft. "It's like a special way his brain works that makes him see the world differently than we do." Chip's eyes widened. "Is that why he did those weird things?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity rather than judgment, but that's not how Plankton took it. His expression grew defensive. "Weird things?" Plankton's voice was sharp. "What do you mean, Chip?" Karen's gaze softened as she saw the look of hurt in Plankton's eye. She placed a comforting hand on Chip's shoulder. "Sweetie, it's not that he does weird things. It's just that sometimes his brain needs a break. It's like he goes on a little vacation without telling us. It's called an episode." Plankton flinched at the word, his antennas drooping. "But why does it happen?" Chip asked, his voice still filled with innocence. "Well, autism is like a different operating system for the brain," Karen explained, choosing her words carefully. "Some people with autism have moments where their brains need to recharge or process information in a way that's unique to them. It's not weird or wrong, just different." Chip looked from Karen to Plankton, his mind racing with questions. "So my dad's just being... special?" he asked, trying to make sense of the situation. Plankton's gaze fell to the floor, feeling patronized and belittled by Chip's curiosity. "In a way, yes," Karen said, her voice soothing. "But it's not something to be ashamed of. It's part of who Daddy is, and it makes him special in a lot of wonderful ways." She took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "But it can also make things difficult for him, like today." Chip nodded slowly, trying to digest the information. "Does that mean he won't ever be able to play with us like other dads?" His question, though unintentionally, was laced with a hint of disappointment. Plankton's eye narrowed, and he felt the sting of microaggression in his son's words. "Chip, I can play with you. It's just sometimes I need to be by myself, okay?" His voice was tight, the frustration of years of misunderstanding bubbling to the surface. Karen intervened, sensing the tension. "Chip, Dad's episodes are just part of who he is. He loves you very much, and he'll always be here for you." But Chip's mind was racing. He couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with his dad. He looked at Plankton, his confusion and fear evident. "But why does he have to be like this?" Karen sighed, her heart heavy with the weight of the conversation. "Chip," she said gently, "it's not a choice. It's just how Daddy's brain is wired. It's not something bad, just different." Chip frowned, his brow furrowed as he thought. "But why can't he just turn it off?" He didn't mean to sound so dismissive, but the concept of his father being 'different' was still difficult to grasp. "Why's he gotta have this...this thing? I mean, if it makes him sick, why do we have to keep hanging out with him?" The words were out before Chip could even realize the impact they would have. Plankton's eye snapped up. A wave of fury washed over his face, his small form seemingly growing in size as his autistic mind processed the unintended slight. "You think I'm sick?" he roared, his voice echoing through the room, the walls seemingly trembling with his rage. The sudden outburst startled Chip, his eyes going wide with shock. He had never seen his dad like this before—his usually quiet and introspective father now a whirlwind of raw emotion. Karen's grip on his shoulder tightened, a silent warning to tread carefully. "No, Chip," she began, her voice firm but calm. "Autism isn't an illness. It's not something Daddy can just turn off or ignore." But Plankton's fury was unyielding. He stood up, his entire body trembling with the intensity of his anger. "You think I'm a burden?" he shouted, his voice shaking the very air around them. Karen's eyes flashed with a protective flame, her grip on Chip's shoulder becoming almost painful. "Chip, you need to apologize to your father," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. Chip looked up at her, his own anger building. "Why? I just want a dad who's normal!" His voice was laced with frustration and hurt. "Why can't he just be like everyone else's dads or else leave?" The words hung in the air like a toxic cloud, heavy with ableism and pain. Karen's face fell, her heart breaking for Plankton. "Chip, that's not fair," she said, her voice a mix of disappointment and sadness. "Your dad can't just change who he is because you don't understand." Plankton's face was a storm of emotion. He looked from Karen to Chip, his anger fading to something deeper, something more profound. It was the look of a man whose entire world had just been questioned by the person he loved most. "You think I'm not good enough?" he whispered, his voice shaking with barely contained hurt. Karen's eyes filled with tears, her heart breaking for her husband. "Chip, that's not what you meant," she began, but Plankton cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Let him speak," he said, his voice deflated. "Let him say what he really thinks." His gaze was unblinking, a challenge in his eye that Chip didn't quite understand. Karen took a deep breath, her heart breaking for the both of them. "Chip," she started, her voice steady despite her tears. "You know we love your dad just the way he is, right?" But Chip's anger and confusion were like a dam that had burst. "Yeah, but why does he have to be like this?" he demanded. "Why don't you just get me a better dad?" The words were like a slap in the face, and Plankton's eye widened in shock. Karen's grip on Chip's shoulder tightened, but she didn't say a word. She knew this was something Chip had to work through on his own. "Better?" Plankton's voice was hollow, echoing the emptiness in Chip's heart. "What makes a 'better' dad, Chip?" Chip's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. "One who can play with me without getting stuck like a broken toy!" he shot back. "Even Mom doesn't want you around when you're like that!" The accusation hung in the air like a sword, slicing through the tension. Plankton's antennas drooped, his eye reflecting a deep hurt that Chip couldn't comprehend. "Is that what you think, Karen?" he asked, his voice barely audible. Karen's eyes snapped to Chip, her expression a mix of anger and sorrow. "That's not what anyone thinks, Chip," she said firmly. "Your dad is a wonderful person. And he's the only dad you've got." But Chip's frustration had taken over. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've picked a dad who actually deserves to be here," he spat, his words dripping with accusation. "May be we'd be happier if we could just start over without the 'autistic' baggage and get someone who doesn't need to be babysat all the time. Or better yet, maybe we should just get rid of him." His voice was harsh, his thoughts racing in a whirlwind of pain and confusion. The room fell silent, the air thick with the tension of unspoken truths and misunderstood pain. Karen's hands were trembling, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and hurt. "Chip, you can't say things like that," she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's expression was unreadable, his body rigid with the weight of his son's accusations. "Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion. "Do you wish I was gone?" Karen's grip tightened on Chip's shoulder, her eyes flashing with anger and hurt. "Chip, that's enough!" she exclaimed. "You don't mean that!" But Chip's rage was like a wildfire, spreading uncontrollably. "Maybe we would!" Chip shouted, his voice echoing through the room. He didn't know where these words were coming from, but they felt like a release from the pressure cooker of his thoughts. "Maybe if you weren't around, we could be a real family! Even Mom wouldn't have to pretend everything's okay all the time, because she's too nice to go out and get a husband instead of being a burden she has to take care of like a parasite!" The moment the words left his mouth, Chip felt a deep pang of regret. But the damage was done. Karen's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Plankton's antennas quivered, his face white as a sheet.

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY iv ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ: t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᵀᵒᵖⁱᶜˢ (By NeuroFabulous) ɪ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀᴄᴛs "Chip!" Karen's voice was a whipcrack, full of pain and anger. "How could you say such a thing?" Plankton's eye were wet with unshed tears, his body trembling as he stared at his son, his mind racing to process the hurtful words. "Maybe I am a burden," he murmured, his voice so low it was almost lost in the heavy silence. Karen's grip on Chip's shoulder tightened. "That's enough," she said, her voice shaking. "You don't mean that, Chip." But the look on Plankton's face told her that the damage was done. Chip stared at his dad, his heart racing. He hadn't meant to say those things, but the anger and confusion had just spilled out. He saw the hurt in Plankton's eye, the same eyes that had looked at him with love and pride so many times before. He felt a lump form in his throat, his cheeks burning with guilt. "Dad, I'm, I just..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say next. Plankton's gaze was unflinching, his hurt palpable. Chip looked at his dad, his heart racing. He could see the pain etched on Plankton's face, the way his antennas drooped. "I didn't mean it," Chip stammered, his voice shaking. "I'm sorry." The silence was deafening. Plankton's eye searched his son's, looking for any hint of sincerity. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "You've never seen me as a burden before." The words were like a knife twisting in Karen's heart. Karen's eyes filled with tears as she watched the exchange between her husband and son. She had always tried to shield Chip from the harsh realities of Plankton's condition, but now it seemed those efforts had only created a chasm of misunderstanding. "Chip," she said, her voice shaking with emotion, "you know that's not true. Your father is not a burden. He's a brilliant scientist, a loving husband, and the best dad we could ever ask for." Chip's eyes fell to the floor, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his words. "But sometimes it feels like it," he mumbled, his voice thick with regret. Karen's eyes searched Chip's face, trying to understand his pain. "Sweetie, everyone has their own challenges. Daddy's just have to do with the way his brain works. It doesn't make him any less of a person or a dad." But Chip's frustration remained, his voice cracking. "But why can't he just get better?" he demanded, his eyes filled with a desperation that neither Karen nor Plankton had ever seen before. "I mean, if he's so smart, can't he just fix it? If not, then why do we have to keep him around?" Karen's heart sank as she watched the conversation spiral out of control. She knew that Chip didn't mean what he was saying, but the hurt on Plankton's face was real. But Chip wasn't listening. His thoughts had turned to a darker place, one fueled by his desperation for normalcy. In a moment of cruel manipulation, born out of fear and frustration, he looked up at Plankton. "Chip," Karen began, her voice firm but gentle, "autism isn't something that can be fixed. It's part of who your dad is. And we..." But Chip cut her off, his voice driven by a desperate anger that surprised even him. "If you can't play with me, if you can't be a real dad, then maybe you shouldn't be here at all," he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "Maybe we should just... "Chip!" Karen's voice was a whipcrack, eyes filled with horror. "Chip, that's enough!" she snapped. But her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Chip's mind was a tumultuous sea of emotions—his frustration, confusion, and fear of the unknown had led him to a dark and dangerous place. Plankton looked at his son, his eye wide with shock and pain. "Chip," he began, his voice shaking, "you don't mean that. I'm your father. I love you." But Chip's anger had turned to a cold resolve. "It's for the best," he said, his voice eerily calm. "If you can't be a real dad, then maybe it's time for you to go." The words hit Plankton like a freight train. He felt the air leave his lungs, his antennas drooping further than ever before. "Chip," he choked out, his voice shaking. "What are you saying?" Chip's eyes were cold, his face a mask of determination. "I'm saying that maybe you shouldn't be here," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Maybe it would be better for everyone if you just weren't around anymo-" He was cut off by a sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Chum Bucket—a wail so deep and mournful that it seemed to echo through the very fabric of their lives. It was Plankton, his tiny body wracked with sobs that seemed too large for his frame. Chip had never seen his dad cry before, and the sight of it made him feel small, his words weighing on him like an anchor. Karen's grip on his shoulder loosened, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and despair. She moved to comfort Plankton, her arms wrapping around him as he collapsed into her embrace. "It's okay," she whispered, rocking him gently. "It's okay." Chip stood there, watching his parents, the gravity of his words finally sinking in. He had never seen his dad like this before—so weak, so vulnerable. A pang of guilt shot through him, and he felt the weight of his own cruelty. Plankton continued to sob, his body convulsing with the force of his emotions. Karen looked up at Chip. "Your dad needs us right now," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Please, go to your room and think about what you've said." Her eyes were filled with a mix of anger and sadness, but mostly, she looked disappointed. Chip nodded, feeling the full weight of his own words crash down on him. He turned and walked away, each step heavier than the last as he went to his own room.

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY vi (By NeuroFabulous) Outside, the corridor was cold and empty, the neon lights of the Chum Bucket flickering above them. Karen's eyes were filled with a sadness that Chip had never seen before. "Why did I say those things?" Chip asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it." Karen took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Your dad's autism is life-long," she said, her voice shaky. "It's not something that you can just ignore or wish away." Her hand rested on his shoulder, warm and comforting. "But it doesn't make him any less of a person, or any less of a father. He loves you so much, Chip. More than you'll ever know." Chip nodded, his eyes still on the floor. "But I hurt him," he said, his voice a whisper. "I don't know how to take it back." Karen's grip tightened on his shoulder. "You will," she assured him, her voice steady despite her own emotions. "You'll learn to understand, and you'll tell him you're sorry. But right now, let's just give him some space." They walked down the corridor, each step echoing in the silence. "But why does Dad get so upset?" Chip asked, his voice still shaky. "Is it becau…" "His emotions can be intense," Karen explained, her voice gentle. "It's part of his autism, Chip. Sometimes, things that seem small to us can feel really big to him." She paused, her gaze distant as she searched for the right words. "Imagine if someone kept turning the lights on and off while you were trying to read a book. It's like that for him, but with sounds, and feelings." Chip frowned, trying to comprehend. "But why does he get so mad at me?" His voice was small, filled with a sadness that tugged at Karen's heart. Karen sighed, her eyes full of empathy. "Your dad's brain works differently, honey," she said, her tone soft. "Sometimes things can be overwhelming for him. And when he's overwhelmed, his feelings can get really big, like a wave that crashes down and covers everything." She paused, considering her words carefully. "It's not because he doesn't love you. It's just how he deals with things." Chip nodded slowly, his eyes still red and swollen from crying. "But why does he freeze up?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's like he's not even there." Karen's gaze softened, her hand still on his shoulder. "Sometimes, his brain gets too full, and he ends up having an absence seizure, where he just sort of... goes away for a bit. It's like his brain is taking a quick vacation," she said, trying to make it relatable for Chip. "But he's always right here." Chip looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and fear. "But why does he do that?" he whispered. "Is he okay?" Karen's hand squeezed his shoulder, her eyes full of warmth. "It's a part of his autism, sweetie," she said, her voice soft. "When things get too much, his brain automatically just... takes a break. It's not something he does on purpose, it's just his body's way of coping." "But it scares me," Chip admitted, his voice shaking slightly. "It feels like he's gone." Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with understanding. "I know it's scary, honey," she said, her voice soothing. "But it's important to remember that it's just his brain taking a little break. It doesn't mean he doesn't love you or isn't there for you." "But how do I know when it's going to happen?" Chip's voice was filled with a desperate need to understand, to control the chaos his father's condition had brought into his life. Karen took a deep breath, her eyes full of compassion. "You can't always know, Chip," she said gently. "But you can learn to recognize the signs." Her hand slid down to his, giving it a comforting squeeze. "When he starts getting upset, or if you see him getting overwhelmed, that's when you know he might need some space or a quiet moment to regroup." "But why does he hate hugs?" Chip's question hung in the air, filled with the innocence of a child seeking understanding. Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's not that he hates hugs, Chip," she said, her voice gentle. "It's just that sometimes, certain textures or pressures can be really overwhelming for him. It's like if someone was tickling you non-stop, even when you asked them to stop—it would drive you crazy, right?" Chip thought about it, nodding slowly. "But I don't get it," he said. "Why can't he just get used to it? I've seen you hug..." "It's not that simple," Karen interrupted gently. "I know you don't understand, but hugs can be really difficult for your dad. His body can't always make sense of the sensation, and it can feel like too much all at once." Chip frowned, his eyes searching hers for answers. "But both of you hug each other," he pointed out. "Why.." "It's different for me," Karen said, her voice soft. "Your dad's senses are like a radio that's always tuned in too loud. Sometimes, when we hug, it's like turning the volume down just enough for him to handle it." Her smile was sad but patient. "It's taken us years to figure out what works for us, Chip. Everyone's different, even with autism." Chip nodded, trying to understand. "But what do I do when he doesn't want to hug?" he asked, his voice tentative. "What if I just want to show him I love him?" Karen's eyes searched his, seeing the raw emotion beneath the surface. "You can show him in other ways," she said, smiling gently. "Words, or just sitting near him, or even just being patient with him when he's having a tough time." Chip considered this, his brow furrowed in thought. "But I want to make him happy," he said, his voice earnest. "How do I do that?" Karen's smile was sad, but understood. "You do that by loving him, Chip," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "By accepting him for who he is and not trying to change him. By being patient when he needs space, and by being there when he's ready for company. He does enjoy helping you with your experiments, doesn't he?" Chip nodded, remembering the times his dad had been most engaged and happy. "Yeah," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "He's the best at science." Karen's smile grew a little wider at this. "That's because his brain works differently," she said. "Sometimes, the way he processes information can make certain things easier for him to understand and enjoy." "But what if I don't know what to do?" Chip's voice was filled with a desperate need for guidance. "What if I make him upset?" Karen looked into her son's worried eyes and took a deep breath. "You'll learn, Chip. We all do. Your dad has his own ways of communicating, even if they're not always verbal. Sometimes, it's just about paying attention." "What do you mean?" Chip's eyes searched hers. Karen took a moment before answering, her gaze drifting to a spot over his head. "Look for the little things, Chip," she said, her voice thoughtful. "Like how his antennas move, or the way his eye looks. Sometimes, his body will tell you more than his words can. I know when he's happy because his antennas perk up and his eye twinkles." Chip watched her intently, his mind racing with questions. "What about when he's sad?" he asked, his voice small. Karen's gaze softened, her thumb gently stroking the back of his hand. "When he's sad, his antennas drop down," she said. Chip nodded, his eyes studying her intently. "And when he's mad?" Karen's expression grew more serious. "When he's angry, his antennas might go stiff and his brow can get really rigid," she explained. "It's his way of saying 'I'm overwhelmed, and I need you to back off.'" Chip nodded slowly, taking it all in. "And when do you know how he'd like to accept a hug?" Karen looked thoughtful. "Well, his body language will give you clues," she said. "If his antennas are relaxed and pointing slightly towards you, it might mean he's open to one. But always ask, okay?" Chip nodded, feeling a bit more hopeful. "How do I tell if he's uncomfortable with touch?" he asked, his eyes wide with concern. Karen squeezed his hand. "Look for the signs," she said. "If his body stiffens or his antennas pull back, it's usually a clue that he's not enjoying it." She smiled softly. "But remember, everyone's different, even within the spectrum. What works for one person with autism might not work for your dad." Chip nodded, his eyes wide with understanding. "Okay," he said, his voice small. "But what different types of touch..." "It's all about sensory input," Karen said, cutting him off gently. "Some textures and sensations might feel like sandpaper to him, while others might be soothing. It's a delicate balance, and it's different for everyone. But for your dad, he often prefers gentle, predictable touches. Like a soft touch on the arm. But he tends to dislike sudden hugs or pats on the back, or a squeeze of the shoulder." Her eyes searched Chip's, looking for any signs of doubt or confusion. "But always ask before you touch him," she added. "It's important to respect his boundaries." Chip nodded, his mind racing. "But what if he doesn't say anything?" he asked. "How will I know?" Karen sighed, her eyes reflecting the years of experience. "That's the tough part, Chip," she admitted. "Sometimes, your dad can't find the words. But if you pay close attention, you'll see the signs." "Signs?" Chip's voice was filled with uncertainty. Karen nodded solemnly. "When he starts to get overwhelmed, his body will show it," she said. "His antennas might jerk, or his eye might dart around the room. Sometimes, he'll repeat words or phrases over and over, like he's trying to find the right one to express how he feels."

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY vii (By NeuroFabulous) Chip listened intently, his heart heavy with the realization that his father's world was so much more complex than he had ever imagined. "What do I do..." "When you see those signs," Karen said, her voice filled with patience and love, "you need to give him space. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is just be there for him, without expecting anything in return." Chip nodded, his eyes still swollen with tears. "But what if he needs help?" he asked, his voice small. Karen's expression was a mix of love and concern. "If he's having a seizure, it's important to keep him safe," she said, her tone serious. "Make sure there's nothing around that he could hurt himself on, and don't try to move him unless he's in danger." She paused, taking a deep breath. "And never put anything in his mouth. It can be really scary to watch, but he'll come out of it, I promise." "How will I know if it's a seizure?" Chip's voice was shaky, fear gripping him. Karen took a deep breath, her expression turning serious. "If he just stops talking or moving suddenly, and his eye glazes over, it's probably a seizure," she said, her voice calm and measured. "Sometimes he'll stare off into space, or his body might get really stiff for a moment." She paused, squeezing his hand. "But remember, his brain is just taking a little vacation, okay? And if he convulses or starts to fall, you have to catch him and guide him to the floor safely. It's really important that he doesn't get hurt." Chip's eyes were wide with fear, but he nodded, determined to be there for his dad. "What if..." "If it's a bigger seizure," Karen said, her tone gentle but firm, "you'll know. His whole body might shake, and he could fall to the floor." Her grip on his hand tightened. "If that happens, you need to stay calm. Alert me, and make sure he's in a safe place where he won't hurt himself." With a nod, Chip tried to absorb the information, his stomach churning with a mix of fear and determination. He didn't want his dad to go through that alone. "Okay," he murmured. Karen gave his hand a final squeeze before releasing it. "Why don't we check on him?" she suggested, her voice tentative. "Let's see if he's ready to talk." They approached the bedroom. "Remember, sweetie," she whispered. "Let him set the pace." The door was ajar, letting a sliver of light spill into the hallway. Through it, Chip could see his father, still sitting on the edge of the bed, his antennas slumped in defeat. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of his father's shallow breaths. Karen knocked gently, her voice soft. "Plankton?" There was a moment of silence before they heard a sniffle. "Come in," Plankton's voice was barely audible. Karen pushed the door open, letting Chip step in first. Plankton's single eye was red and swollen from crying, and he was clutching a worn pillow to his chest while rocking in place. Karen's heart ached at the sight of her husband's distress, but she knew better than to rush in. Instead, she gave Chip a gentle nod, encouraging him to go first. Chip took a tentative step forward, his eyes on Plankton's small frame. He had never seen his dad so vulnerable before, his usual bravado and strength nowhere to be found. Plankton looked up at him, his eye searching, his antennas drooping. For a moment, the room was so quiet that Chip could hear his own heart pounding in his chest. With a deep breath, he moved closer, his heart racing. He knew he had to fix this, to somehow make it right. "Dad," he began, his voice shaking. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it." Plankton's gaze was unreadable, his antennas lying flat against his head. "You don't get it," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You'll never get it." The words stung Chip, but he knew his dad wasn't mad at him. It was frustration, a feeling Plankton struggled to express without it coming out as anger. He took another step closer, his eyes locking with Plankton's. "I want to," he said, his voice earnest. "I want to understand you, Dad." Plankton's antennas twitched, a small sign that he had heard, that he was processing the words.

FIVE Senses to ground yourself 5 things you See (eyesight) 4 things you Hear (listening) 3 things you Feel (touch) 2 things you Smell (scent) 1 thing you can Taste

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ 🍓 ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ 🍓 ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ ꔛ ۫ ✿ (๑`^´๑)🎀⭐️もっと♥ ＧＯ！ＧＯ！🎀⭐️ ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ 🍓 ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ 🍓 ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

『🧠🔥𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 🧠🔥』 (my search NeuroFabulous)

🌟 Understanding Retinoblastoma 🌟 Did you know? Retinoblastoma is a rare (but can be treatable) eye cancer that affects people usually under age 5. Early detection is key! Here’s what you need to know: 👁 Symptoms to Watch For: 👉A white glow in the pupil 👉Eye redness or swelling 👉 Vision problems 🏥 Treatment Options: 👉Chemotherapy 👉Laser or cryotherapy 👉Surgery /enucleation: removal of eye (usually in severe cases) 👶 Importance of Early Detection: With prompt treatment, many can recover fully and even preserve their vision. If you notice any unusual signs in your child’s eyes, consult a doctor immediately!

TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your finger before they use it in your mouth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the sucking noise. See how you feel with the specific doctor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the doctor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep throat test, ask if you can swab your own throat, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your throat’s structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)

♡ ⋆ ° .˚ 𖧷 · ° .♡ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ° .˚ 𖧷 · ♡ wishing you less pain wishing you less stress wishing you less depression sending you love sending you positive vibes sending you healing energy ͏ ͏please accept ♡ ⋆ ° .˚ 𖧷 · ° .♡ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ° .˚ 𖧷 · ♡

᭨ ⃟🧠

✨️ ᴮᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˢʰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ✨️.

Best Practices for Encouraging Special Interests in Children with Autism What Helps • Encouraging conversation about interest • Paying attention to non-verbal cues • Engaging in activity about interest • Allowing children to keep objects related to interest • Taking note of circumstances that promote calmness • Using interest as motivation for desired behaviors What Hurts • Treating the interest like it's boring • Ignoring non-verbal cues or gestures • Disengaging from the conversation • Forcing a discussion unrelated to the interest • Demanding that children think about other subjects • Leveraging interest as punishment

“Neurodivergent Umbrella”* Beneath the umbrella, it lists: ADHD DID & OSDD ASPD BPD NPD Dyslexia CPTSD Dyspraxia Sensory Processing Dyscalculia PTSD Dysgraphia Bipolar Autism Epilepsy OCD ABI Tic Disorders Schizophrenia Misophonia HPD Down Syndrome Synesthesia * non-exhaustive list

┌ ⃟🧠̶͞⇣

ㅤ🔐 ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘⡣🧠ㅤ𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖨𝖲 𝖬𝖸 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖣?ㅤ║▌│█ ║▌

❁્᭄͜͡🧠

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 - 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡. — 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑛 𝐾𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2012 To those of you newly embarking on surgery these are my MUST HAVES for surgery: SURGERY SUPPLIES: Whiteboard Notebook and pen baby toothbrushes alcohol free mouthwash q-tips wet wipes travel neck pillow lots of pillows humidifier mirrors baby spoons syringes of different shapes and sizes pill crusher wrap around hot and cold packs lots of liquids (juices, ensure, water) chapstick a lot of tissues HAND BLENDER (I wouldn't have survived without this) towels power flosser Posted by Incognita at 10:49 PM

Exercise List: 1. 2-Way Stretch 2. Forward Folds 3. Extended Lift & Hold 4. Cobra Pose 5. Side Bends 6. Skipping/Jogging In Place 7. Inverting/Hanging

Sometimes, stomach acid goes up into your esophagus, the tube that connects your mouth and stomach. That’s called heartburn. If it’s also an issue, sleep with your head slightly raised. It may also help to avoid or limit: Peppermint, chocolate, garlic, and tomatoes Tight clothes Meals within 2 or 3 hours of bedtime Lying down right after a meal Instead: Sleep on your left side. This position seems to help reduce nighttime heartburn symptoms Wear loose-fitting clothes. Tight clothes, especially near your waist, can put pressure on your stomach, leading to heartburn symptoms. Chew gum. Chewing gum encourages the production of saliva, which can soothe your esophagus and wash acid down into your stomach. Choose a flavor other than peppermint, which may worsen heartburn in some people. While the main symptom of GERD is reflux, a number of symptoms may accompany this condition. Heartburn: A painful burning sensation in the chest is the most common symptom Trusted Source Merck Manual First published in 1899 as a small reference book for physicians and pharmacists, the Manual grew in size and scope to become one of the most widely used comprehensive medical resources for professionals and consumers. View Source of GERD, but not all cases of GERD involve heartburn. Regurgitation: Another common symptom of GERD is regurgitation, which means a small amount of stomach acid and sometimes bits of food come up into the mouth or back of the throat. Sore throat: When stomach acid rises to the mouth and throat, it can cause coughing and a feeling of choking. This often leads to a sore throat and, for some people, difficulty swallowing, known as dysphagia. Chest pain: On top of the discomfort from heartburn, GERD can cause radiating chest pain

Sleep When You're in Pain (Chronic or Acute) Sleep on your back if you have lower back pain. Some individuals may benefit from placing a pillow under their knees while in this position. Elevating the knees can take pressure off the lower back. Sleep on your side if you have neck pain. Sleep on your left side to improve your digestion. People who find side sleeping helpful during their period may benefit from placing a pillow between their knees. Experimenting with different pillow positions can help. If you have stomach cramps, try drawing your knees up to your chest in the foetal position, which may help. This position involves lying on the side and tucking the legs toward the chest. You can also sleep on your back propped up with pillows to relieve heartburn. If you have pain due to gas, try laying on your back to relieve some of the pressure off of your stomach. https://www.wikihow.health/Sleep-when-You%27re-in-Pain

ᥬ🤯᭄

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 — 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡. -𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑛 𝐾𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟

Please don't touch me or stand too close. I have an Autistic Spectrum Condition. I process sensations differently. Sometimes I Can't cope with touch or physical contact. 4 ways to manage autism, anxiety and sensory overload Choose sensory-friendly events and places Choose sensory- friendly features • Fewer lights • Less background music • Noise blocking headphones • Calming rooms • Weighted blanket Make sensory experience shorter Reduce sensory experience • Take breaks from busy, noisy and bright places • Noise blocking headphones • Sunglasses For example, a child who has difficulty with the feeling of clothing and thus has difficulty getting dressed shows hypersensitivity. As a result, that child can experience sensory overload from clothing. It is also important to know that a toddler refusing to get dressed because they are exerting their independence or would rather play or do something else is not a child experiencing sensory overload. That is not hypersensitivity. That is normal for toddlers. So choose sensory-friendly providers or products. In particular, that helps people whose anxiety is made worse by what they experience from their senses. Hollander, E., & Burchi, E. (2018). Anxiety in Autism Spectrum Disorder. Anxiety & Depression Association of America

Emotional Distress Scale 0 - I feel great! This is the best I’ve felt in a long time! 1 - I’m feeling really good! There’s no distress to address. 2 - I’m feeling good. If I start feeling bothered, I can be easily distracted or cheered up. 3 - I’m okay, but there are some things bothering me. I can easily cope with them, though. 4 - I could be better. There are a few things distressing me right now. It’s not exactly easy to deal with, but I still have the skills to get through it. 5 - I’m not okay. It’s getting harder to do the things I want to do, but I can do them. My coping skills aren’t working as well anymore, but enough of them work to get me through the day. I need some support. 6 - I’m feeling bad, and it’s very hard to do the things I need or want to do. Most of my coping skills aren’t effective right now, and it’s taking a lot of energy to stay stable. I need help. 7 - I’m feeling awful. It’s hard to focus on anything but my emotions, and/or I’m avoiding things that distress me. I can’t do much but try to take care of myself, which is already hard in itself. I’m running low on, or have run out of, effective coping skills. I need a lot of help right now. 8 - I’m feeling awful, and I can’t escape it anymore. How I feel is affecting every part of my day, and I’m reaching the point where I can’t function. It’s hard to sleep, eat, socialize, etc. I need help before I can’t handle anything. 9 - This is approaching the worst I could feel. I can’t function anymore. My emotions have totally consumed me. I may be a danger to myself or others, or I may be neglecting myself. I need urgent help. 10 - This is the worst I’ve felt ever/since [last time]. I can’t care for myself at all. My emotions are so intense, I’m at imminent risk of dangerously acting on them. I need crisis support immediately. 11 - I have acted on my emotions and hurt myself or someone else. Everything else in my life is impossible to comprehend. I need medicinal and/or crisis support immediately.

Sensory inputs can be any stimuli entering through one of the sensory modalities: sight, sound, gustation, olfaction, and tactile sensations. Tactile sensations include responses to pressure and temperature. Over stimulation is the product of sensory overload. Overstimulation (OS) occurs when there is “to much” of some external stimulus or stimuli for a person's brain to process and integrate effectively. Sensory overload can be triggered by a singular event or a build up thereof. When the brain has to put all of its resources into sensory processing, it can shut off other functions, like speech, decision making and information processing. Using noise-cancelling headphones to vastly reduce external sound, which can help to stop sensory over load. Weighted sensory products, such as blankets or vests, to provide pressure and soothing proprioceptive input. Avoiding open questions – if you need their input on something, aim to use closed yes/no questions. It causes feelings of discomfort and being overwhelmed. Moving away from sources of sensory input, such as loud sounds or strong smells, can reduce these feelings. However, it is a core characteristic of autism, where individuals often experience heightened sensitivity to stimuli. It's important to note that not all autistic individuals experience overstimulation in the same way or to the same degree. Some may have a higher threshold for sensory input and be less easily overwhelmed, while others may become overstimulated even in relatively calm environments. Stimming, short for self-stimulating behaviors, is a repetitive movement or action that can include body movements, vocal noises, or sensory stimulation. It can be a way to manage excess energy, self-soothe, or cope with emotions. Stimming can also help regulate sensory input, either increasing stimulation or decreasing sensory overload. Stimming behaviors can consist of tactile, visual, auditory, vocal, proprioceptive (which pertains to limb sensing), olfactory, and vestibular stimming (which pertains to balance).

sirenomelia sympodia (one fused foot) In sympus dipus (symmelia), both the feet are seen separately. In sympus monopus (uromelia), a single foot is present. In sympus apus (sirenomelia,) the foot is absent Discussion "Symelia" is the fusion of the lower extremities,2 and it has been classified into three types: 1) Apus- no feet, only one tibia and one femur, 2) Unipus- one foot, two femora, two tibiae, two fibulae, and 3) Dipus- two feet and two fused legs (giving the appearance of a flipper). Symmelia is basically classified according to the number of feet present. Tripodial symmelia contains three feet, dipodal symmelia have two feet, monopodal symmelia consist of one foot and apodal symmelia or sirenomelia which contain no feet and more severe form and closely related to a mermaid.

┈┈┈┈┈┈▕▔╲┈┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈▏▕┈ⓈⓊⓅⒺⓇ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈▏▕▂▂▂┈┈┈ ▂▂▂▂▂▂╱┈▕▂▂▂▏┈┈ ▉▉▉▉▉┈┈┈▕▂▂▂▏┈┈ ▉▉▉▉▉┈┈┈▕▂▂▂▏┈┈ ▉▉▉▉▉┈┈┈▕▂▂▂▏┈┈ ▔▔▔▔▔▔╲▂▕▂▂▂▏┈┈

₊ ⊹ 𝑖 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 ♡₊ ⊹

𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑖 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑖 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

https://nonutsmomsgroup.weebly.com/blog/remembering-those-we-have-lost-to-food-allergies

. ✧ 　 ˚　 . i will face whatever comes today with a positive attitude ♡ 　　˚ 　 . ✧　　 .

Why autistic people are like cats: - We are highly sensitive. - We don't like loud or sudden noises. - We are easily spooked and startled. - Especially because we are zoning out, like, all the time. - We love to be held and touched and petted and cuddled bUT ONLY IF IT WAS OUR IDEA! - We're picky eaters. - Easily distracted. - Solitary creatures. - Takes us a while to warm up to people and be comfortable around them. - Our idea of being "social" is just hanging around the vicinity or in the same room as other people but not necessarily interacting with them. - We are finicky, particular, meticulous creatures of habit and we have a comfort zone we will defend with our lives. - If we deem you worthy, you will be allowed into our comfort zone. - Gaining our love and trust is super rewarding because it is not easily done. Be flattered. - If you touch us unexpectedly we will flinch or jump. - We are awesome predators and get super intense about stuff one nickname for the ADHD gene is "the hunter gene") - We are cute and lovable and have a lot of personality. - Many autistic children love to feel enclosed and secure and so love secret hiding places and cubby holes (i.e., "if I fits, I sits") - We sometimes appear to freak out at nothing and scamper away for no reason but really it's because we can hear things you can't and some sounds bother us. - Because we have such hyper-sensitive senses, any snuggles you give us will be a million times more rewarding for you because you'll know and appreciate just how intensely we're enjoying them. - Please give us food or we will boop your nose in your sleep.

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"You're going to be okay," Karen assured Plankton. He clutched her hand. "I'm right here." The receptionist's voice echoed through the large waiting room. "Plankton?" Karen's heart jumped. She squeezed her husband's hand. They walked down the hallway, Plankton's breaths shallow, eye darting around the white, sterile walls. The nurse led them to a small room. "Just a few questions," the nurse smiled, her voice soothing as she helped him in the recliner. The nurse, noticing his agitation, spoke slowly and clearly. "We're just going to take your blood pressure, okay?" The nurse wrapped the cuff around his bicep, her movements gentle. The hiss of the air pump filled the tense silence. "Look at me, Plankton," Karen whispered, her calming gaze meeting his. "Take deep breaths." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm. The nurse waited patiently, giving them space. As the cuff tightened, Plankton's eye squeezed shut. The nurse completed her task quickly, her voice steady. "Good job," she said, patting his hand. Karen felt his fear spike, but his grip on her hand remained firm as the oral surgeon walked in. Dr. Marquez nodded at them, his demeanor calm and professional. "Hello, Plankton. I see we're getting ready for your wisdom teeth." He noticed Plankton's tension and turned to Karen. "You earlier mentioned his neurodisability. Is there anything special we can do to help make him comfortable?" Karen's screen lit up with gratitude. "Yes, thank you." She explained his need for calm and his sensory sensitivities. Dr. Marquez nodded thoughtfully. "We can use a weighted blanket to help with that. It provides a gentle pressure that can be quite comforting for some of my patients." He turned to the nurse. "Could you please bring one?" The nurse nodded and left the room. When she returned, she carried a soft, blue weighted blanket they warmed. They placed the blanket over Plankton, the weight evenly distributed. His body visibly relaxed under its soothing embrace. "It's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae. "This will help." Plankton felt the warmth of the blanket, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders and chest. But it did little to ease his dread. "Thank you, Dr. Marquez," Karen managed a smile, relief washing over her. She knew how important these accommodations were for her husband. The doctor explained the procedure, using simple terms that Plankton could understand. Karen noted how he tailored his explanation to avoid overwhelming details that might trigger anxiety. The anesthesiologist entered, her smile kind. "We're going to give you some medicine to help you sleep," she said gently, "and then you'll wake up without feeling a thing." Plankton nodded, his eye wide. Karen leaned in, her voice low. "You can hold my hand as you fall asleep." The anesthesiologist prepared the IV, but Plankton's grip on Karen's hand grew tighter. Dr. Marquez noticed his distress and suggested a different approach. "How about some laughing gas first?" he offered. "And perhaps a topical numbing agent.." The nurse quickly set up the gas mask, explaining each step. "This will help you relax," she said, placing it over him. "Just breathe normally." The sweet smell of the nitrous oxide filled him, yet he still remained awake. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen said soothingly. "Just keep breathing." He took a tentative breath, feeling the gas fill his lungs. The room began to spin, but not in the scary way he'd feared. It was more like floating. The weight of the blanket now felt like a gentle hug from the ocean depths, a warm embrace from his childhood home. Dr. Marquez waited until Plankton's breathing steadied, each gesture carefully calculated to avoid any sudden movements that might startle his patient. "You're doing great," he assured Plankton, his voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his anxiety. "You're almost there." Plankton inhaled another lungful of gas, his eye fluttering closed. The nurse gently began applying the topical numbing agent, her movements carefully choreographed to avoid any sudden jolts. Karen held his other hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're safe," she whispered. "I'm here." The gas grew heavier, his mind drifted further from the cold reality of the room. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the weighted blanket now a warm sea of comfort. His grip on Karen's hand grew looser, his breaths deepening. The doctor nodded to the anesthesiologist, who began the IV drip after using the topical numbing agent. Plankton's fear didn't vanish, but it became manageable, a distant thunderstorm rather than a hurricane in his face. His eye closed completely, his body going limp under the blanket. Karen watched as the surgical team moved with precision, their masks and caps dancing in her peripheral vision. The beeping of machines and the murmur of medical jargon filled her ears, but all she focused on was the rhythm of Plankton's breathing. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors and gave a nod. "He's ready," she said quietly. Dr. Marquez took his position, his gloved hands poised over Plankton's now open mouth after removing the gas mask. Karen's gaze was steady, her love and support unwavering as the surgical team moved in unison. The whirring of the instruments began, a soft mechanical lullaby to the background of Plankton's deep, even breaths. The surgery itself was a dance of precision, each gesture a step carefully choreographed to minimize discomfort. The doctor's hands were steady as he removed the wisdom teeth. Karen could see the tense lines in Plankton's face soften under the influence of the anesthesia. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors continuously, ensuring his vital signs remained steady. The nurse offered Karen a chair, but she chose to stand, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. As the surgery progressed, Karen felt the tension in the room ease. The surgical team worked with efficiency, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. Dr. Marquez spoke in hushed tones with his assistants, each word a gentle whisper in the symphony of medical sounds. Plankton's breaths steadied, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a soothing reminder that he was still with her, that his anxiety had been replaced by the peacefulness of deep sedation. The doctor's instruments continued to dance, a silent ballet of precision and care. The nurse occasionally glanced at Karen, offering a reassuring smile as they suture his gums with dissolving stitches. "Alright, we're all done," Dr. Marquez announced, his voice a gentle interruption to the symphony of beeps and whirs. "Let's wake him up slowly." Karen felt her own heart rate spike as the anesthesiologist began reversing the medication. They removed the IV drip and the nurse wiped Plankton's mouth with a soft cloth, her touch as gentle as a sea anemone caressing his skin. His eye flickered open, unfocused and hazy. He blinked slowly, taking in the surroundings. Karen's screen was the first thing he saw, a beacon in the medical fog. "You're okay," she murmured, her voice the gentle hum of a distant lighthouse guiding his consciousness back to shore. Plankton blinked again, his vision swimming into focus. The weighted blanket was still wrapped around him, the comforting pressure now a grounding reminder of her presence. His mouth felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. The nurse offered him water, and he sipped it slowly, feeling the coolness soothe his throat. "How do you feel?" Dr. Marquez asked, his voice a soft wave breaking over the shore of Plankton's awareness. Plankton nodded, his grip on Karen's hand firm. "Good," he managed to murmur, his voice thick with the aftermath of the anesthesia. Karen could see the relief in his eye, the storm of fear now a distant memory. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )

Types Deltacism (from the Greek letter Δ) is a difficulty in producing /d/ sound. Etacism is a difficulty in producing e sound Gamacism is a difficulty in producing /ɡ/ sound Hitism is a difficulty in producing /h/ sound. Iotacism is a difficulty in producing /j/ sound. Kapacism is a difficulty in producing /k/ sound. Lambdacism (from the Greek letter λ) is the difficulty in pronouncing lateral consonants. Rhotacism is a difficulty producing rhotic consonants sounds in the respective language's standard pronunciation. In Czech there is a specific type of rhotacism called rotacismus bohemicus which is an inability to pronounce the specific sound ⟨ř⟩ /r̝/. Sigmatism is a difficulty of producing /s/, /z/ and similar sounds. Tetacism is a difficulty of producing /t/ sound. Tetism is replacement of /s/, /k/ and similar sounds with /t/ and of /z/ and similar sounds with /d/.

Common Experiences How has the semester been going for you? Do you understand the assignment that Professor gave us in class? .. . .. What did you do over break? What sort of plans do you have for break? What did you do over the weekend? Anything interesting happen this week? How has work been? What did you think about the school team's last game? Do you know who's going to s party on day? Interests • What sort of movies have you seen lately? Have any goad boak recommendations? Have you been to any great concerts lately? Have you seen any good plays? What did you think about the ball game on day? Non-Question Topics Your surroundings: the weather, an interesting painting or decoration, a peculiar scenic detail Interesting or humorous Current events or news • officials, shared neighbors, new attractions that have recently opened Compliments on appearance changes: hairstyle, clothing, shoes, accessories Recent experiences with friends or family • Humorous story about something that happened earlier in the day or week CONVO.. Common Experiences How has the semester been going for you? Do you understand the assignment that Professor gave us in class? .. . .. What did you do over break? What sort of plans do you have for break? What did you do over the weekend? Anything interesting happen this week? How has work been? What did you think about the school team's last game? Do you know who's going to s party on day? Interests • What sort of movies have you seen lately? Have any goad book recommendations? Have you been to any great concerts lately? Have you seen any good plays? What did you think about the ball game on day? Non-Question Topics Your surroundings: the weather, an interesting painting or decoration, a peculiar scenic detail Interesting or humorous Current events or news • officials, shared neighbors, new attractions that have recently opened Compliments on appearance changes: hairstyle, clothing, shoes, accessories Recent experiences with friends or family • Humor about something that happened earier in the day or week

nickgram.com/special-needs/

DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procedure, get to meet the physician and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procedure, look up the physician and/or the clinic website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procedure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc.

→ Conservative Treatment Philosophy ←

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Anonymous asked: autism culture is trying to isolate yourself because you're getting overstimulated but people keep coming in to talk to you and then get mad when you lash out. like omg im TRYING to "calm down" just give me a minute

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SOCIAL NETWORK PROFILE NAME Facebook specialolympicstx Twitter @SOTexas Instagram @specialolympicstx YouTube www.youtube.com/specialolympicstexas

💟 WHAT MIGHT BE EASIER FOR YOU MIGHT NOT BE SO EASY FOR ME 💟

Project Shocking I am the mother of a 20 year old girl that died in June from Toxic Shock Syndrome. My daughter was using a Playtex tampon. I've been doing an inordinate amount of research since her death in June, and have been sending out information daily via a pamphlet I authored with help from a PhD. known nationally for his research of Toxic Shock Syndrome. I also have been utilizing social networking and visiting high schools to point out the symptoms and prevention of tampon induced TSS. Many of these young women do not yet have the antibodies they need to use tampons containing viscose rayon. Ladies have been contacting me daily to tell their personal experiences of TSS or share the story of their child who died of TSS. It's unfathomable how the numbers are rising. The sad part is, every single instance of TSS I have personally heard about was using Playtex. I'm sure it isn't only Playtex brand, but these are the instances I've heard about. My daughter was only using "regular" absorbency. Regular absorbency isn't absorbency that is focused on. Amy was a hygiene freak, and changed her tampon like clockwork in fear she would get TSS. It still killed her. Another friend of mine almost lost her 15 year old daughter; not because she was using a tampon, but because of a fiber left inside her a week later. Her daughter is now recovering from reconstruction of her toes due to TSS. TSS is killing young women everywhere. I believe it's every bit as bad as in the 1980's; however, no one knows it. Even Playtex says on their warning label that 1 to 17 of every 100,000 menstruating women PER YEAR will get TSS. If you figure that out, how many menstruating women are there; maybe 15% of the population? That takes the number up to 1 to 17 in 15,000 PER YEAR. Pardon my math skills; I'm aging fast! It's staggering if you get to the real numbers! Up to 25% of these young women will die. People aren't reporting to the FDA; the FDA isn't policing the factories responsibly. They are under the grandfather clause with the FDA, so their new products aren't going through appropriate testing. They don't have to report what is in them. TSS isn't reportable to the CDC; yet the CDC gives out numbers of cases. This isn't right. People are led to believe these CDC reported numbers which gives them a false security. On to the Robin Danielson Act; 2001 H.R. 360, presented by Representative Carolyn Maloney D NY; the bill would amend the Public Health Service Act requiring TSS to be reported to the CDC and would also force the industry to list the content of tampons on the box. The bill has been thrown out continually for the last 13 years. I looked into the tampon industry CEO's political contributions to Congressmen. You can guess the outcome. In my mind this isn't adding up. I believe the fate of my daughter was sealed because of this corporate conduct. I'm currently starting a non-profit organization called, You ARE Loved, (the letters ARE represent my daughter’s initials, Amy Rae Elifritz) to educate girls in high schools across America of the symptoms of TSS, what to watch for and how to prevent it. They need to know! TSS symptoms resemble the flu! It isn't just super absorbent tampons, it's regular tampons too; anything with viscose rayon in it. Warnings say to watch for a rash or peeling. The rash isn't likely to be presented until TSS is beyond recovery. The peeling of skin isn't until at least 7 days to 2 weeks after it begins (provided you aren't dead yet). Playtex' annual report in 2007 reads, “Our Feminine Care marketing strategies have leveraged the strength of the Playtex brand that caters to the active, young female. Our Feminine Care marketing strategy centers on attracting first-time users, converting users of competitive products to our products and converting full-time feminine protection pad users to tampon users by communicating the advantages of tampons. In addition, we have developed the website, www.playtextampons.com, to provide information to adults and adolescents in choosing the right products“. These adolescents are the exact age group that hasn’t developed the immunity to the S. aureus bacteria. They are the most vulnerable people in the world to TSS. How can we get the warning out to these young women that TSS is real and happening when the industry is pushing so hard to reel them in? TSS of the 1980's is history. 2011 is NOW and TSS is happening! Lately I’ve seen medical professionals on TV talking about TSS. They keep repeating that TSS happens only with use of super tampons and to change frequently. My daughter changed every 4-6 hours! I know; I bought them! Actually the toxin begins to develop 2 hours after inserting a tampon and continues to multiply even while changing tampons. This toxin continues to increase as long as you are wearing tampons. The only way to dissipate the toxin in the vaginal canal is to use a pad for at least 8 hours between tampons. I’ve never heard anyone publically explain why alternating with a pad is so important! It’s a very understandable explanation. The only way to prevent TSS is with 100% cotton tampons or pads alone. The reason you can’t find cotton tampons in big stores is the companies that produce 100% cotton tampon are small. Cotton is expensive! These companies cannot afford the advertising to meet the requirements for shelf space at Walmart, CVS, or Walgreen. You have to order them online or go to a specific health food store. What 15 year old will wait 3 days for mail order delivery of a tampon when she needs it now? It's like a 3 day waiting period to buy a gun. I need help getting the word out. I can point you to the research, the professional journals, and the microbiologists that can back me up on everything I mentioned. The medical community is in the dark and it’s not their fault. I want TSS symptom posters on every ER wall in this country - symptoms and first actions. If a woman comes into the ER with a fever and flu, CHECK FOR A TAMPON! If she has one in, REMOVE IT!! Conscious or unconscious, remove the tampon or she will die. The medical profession needs to be educated in tampon related TSS; they are led to believe it no longer exists. Shortly after my daughter’s death I received a thank you message from a mother for saving her daughter's life. Last night I was told that because of my information a second life was saved. The feeling I get from these messages is beyond words. I take no credit for this because everyone needs to be educated. Saving lives is the result of the education. There is now a test; the TSST-1 antibody test that will identify if a person has the antibodies which make it safe to use tampons containing viscose rayon. My local hospital doesn't offer it … Yet. We need to test these young girls or provide symptom education for them and for medical staff along with funding for research to develop a vaccination that boosts antibodies to the toxin produced by Staphylococcus aureus. What more can I do as a citizen without help? It's time to recreate awareness for the new century of TSS. This is an important public service for this story to be told/this warning to be given. Grieving Mother, Lisa Elifritz Special thanks to Maxim Organic for supplying samples of 100% cotton tampons for the young women I speak to. The above is my interpretation of the research I have done since the death of my daughter to Toxic Shock Syndrome. It is not my intention to imply fault to any company, organization or individual. It has been approved by a nationally known microbiologist/toxic shock expert.

🍑 ‘Pap smears’ can be replaced by do-it-yourself cervical cancer tests From today, women who need to get a cervical screening test will be able to choose to self-collect a sample themselves. The self-collect option is a game changer in cervical screening – with Australia is one of the first countries in the world to offer it as a choice for all screening participants. Being able to do the test yourself is also expected to increase the rates of cervical cancer screening for women from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds, who may have experienced cultural barriers and taboos around traditional ‘pap smears’. It will also make a world of difference for the gender diverse community who also face access barriers. Today’s change to the National Cervical Screening Program means that anyone aged 25-74 with a cervix, who has ever been sexuallly active will be able to choose to have a Cervical Screening Test either by: taking their own sample from, using a simple swab, or having a health care provider collect the sample using a speculum. Some test options are free under Medicare – so if your healthcare provider bulk bills for consultations, the whole thing is free. They are accessed through a healthcare provider and are accurate and safe ways to collect a sample for a Cervical Screening Test. Self-collection is also available as an option for follow-up HPV testing after an intermediate risk result and cervical screening during pregnancy. More information on self-collection and the National Cervical Screening Program can be found at www.health.gov.au/ncsp. 🍑

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If feasible, other tests the patient fears might be performed while the patient is sedated. For example, before or after dental work, vaccines could be administered, blood could be drawn, and gynaecology or other physical exams could be done. This practise requires coordination and communication among providers. 💙 https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3708482/

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✍︎ 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 ✯ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 |✯| 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ✯𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅/𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅/𝑬𝑻𝑪 𝑇𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝑎 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝑳𝑮𝑩𝑻𝑸+ 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 ✯𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝑑𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 ✯𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑡ℎ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐞.𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝐷𝑟𝑢𝑔𝑠 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐴𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑦, 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑦 '𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬' ✯𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐶𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧 ✯𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐴𝑛𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐬 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡 ✯𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝙲𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙘, 𝙫𝙖𝙭𝙭𝙚𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲/𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 ✯𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐼𝑓 𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑖𝑓 𝑜𝑘𝑎𝑦

For most uteri-bearing people, the paın begins one to three days before the start of an individual’s perıod, peaks 24 hours after bleeding starts, and stops two to three days after bleeding stops. Most people feel it as a continuous dull ache. 40-90% of women of reproductive age suffer from perıod pain. For most women, premenstrual symptoms can start anywhere from one to two weeks before their period begins. Symptoms can vary from woman to woman and may include: Paın: Cramps, backache, headaçhes or migraines, other aches and pains Digestive prob1ems: Bloating, náuseas or upset stߋmach, dıarrhea Feelings: Stress, not feeling like yourself, trouble sleepıng, fqtigue Other: Food cravings, swelling, acne These symptøms usually disappear once your perıod starts. For some women, though, certain symptoms of PMS, such as painful cramping, may last for the first few days of their period.

🌍🫂✨

⚽️🏀🏊‍♀️🤸‍♂️🏅

🌟❤️🏆

🤗🏅🎉

🔥🫂🌍

❤️🤝🏅

🏅🏆🌍🤝

🤝🏅🌟♾️

❤️🤗🏅💪

🏀🏊‍♂️⚽️🏅✨

🔥🏆🧑‍🤝‍🧑🌍

🏃‍♀️🏅🤝❤️

✨🏆🤸‍♀️❤️

🔥🏅🌍🤝

🏆🤝😊

🏃‍♀️🌟💪

🏅🧑‍🤝‍🧑🎉

🔥❤️🏅

To sleep with a full stomach, it's best to wait at least ½-3 hours after eating before lying down to allow your food to digest, and if you must sleep soon after eating, try to eat a light meal, stay upright for a while, and sleep on your left side to minimize discomfort and potential acid reflux. Key points to remember: Avoid heavy meals before bed: Fatty or large meals can cause bloating and discomfort, disrupting your sleep. Choose light options: If you need to eat close to bedtime, opt for easily digestible foods like plain yogurt or a small snack with low fat content. Sleep position matters: Sleeping on your left side is generally considered best for digestion as it helps prevent stomach acid from traveling back up the esophagus. Elevate your head: Using pillows to slightly elevate your upper body can also help reduce acid reflux. For those who sleep on their front, placing a firm pillow under the hips can raise the bottom of the spine, making sleep more comfortable. — Best Sleeping Positions for a Bloated Stomach · Side Sleeping · Left Side Sleeping · Side Sleeping with a Pillow Between the Legs · Back Sleeping.

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𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 4 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Karen turns to Dr. Joyce. "Can you explain what wisdom teeth removal will be like? That way, we know what to expect, so we can go from there.." The dentist nods, his expression understanding. "Of course," he says, his voice calm. "It's a simple procedure. Plankton?" But Plankton can't even look at him. His eye is squeezed shut, his breathing rapid. Karen sits beside him, her hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. "Breathe with me," she whispers. "In and out." Plankton's breaths are shallow, but he tries. The sound of Chip's footsteps disappearing down the hall is a relief. The pressure eases a bit. Karen keeps talking, her voice steady. "Listen to Dr. Joyce," she says. Dr. Joyce begins to explain, his voice measured and calm. "We'll give you some numbing gel, then a numbing shot, so you won't feel a—" But Plankton's anxiety spikes. "Needles," he whispers, trembling. "No.." Karen sighs, her heart aching. "Plankton, you know we can't avoid this. It's for your hea-" But he cuts her off, his voice desperate. "No, no no no no no!" The panic in his tone is clear. He starts to rock back and forth, his hands covering his head. The mention of sharps had sent him spiraling. Karen swallows hard, knowing this isn't the time to argue. "Okay, okay," she soothes. "Dr. Joyce; is there another way?" The dentist nods. "We do have anesthesia options," he says. "We can use 'sleepy gas' and then once he's asleep, use IV to continue keeping him asleep. We'll use dissolving stitches, and you can stay with him the whole time.." Karen's eyes light up. "That could work," she says. "Plankton, you won't feel anything. You'll just fall asleep." Plankton's rocking slows, his breathing easing slightly. He nods, his eye still closed. "Ok," he whispers. "But only if you're there." Dr. Joyce nods. "Ok then Plankton; I'll get everything set up if you and Karen go into the waiting room." Karen nods and helps Plankton to his feet. He moves stiffly, his anxiety still high. As they walk to the waiting room, Chip's face peeks around the corner. Plankton sees his son on the bench. In the waiting room, Plankton finds a quiet corner, his heart still racing. He starts to rock back and forth, a go-to stim. Chip looks confused as Plankton makes a monotonous humming sound. Karen notices the look on her son's screen. "It's okay, Chip," she whispers. "Your dad just needs to calm down. This is his way." Chip nods, watching as Plankton's antennae twitch. In the corner, Plankton continues to rock, his humming growing softer. Karen sits beside him, her eyes scanning the magazines. She knows better than to interrupt his stimming. It's his attempt to cope with the overwhelm. Chip watches, his own thoughts racing. He doesn't know what to do, how to help. He wants to hug his dad, but he remembers the look of pain when he did so before. So, he stays on the bench. Plankton looks around, his gaze landing on the wall. "Repair of nice touch," he murmurs, his self-talk quiet. Chip looks at Karen. "What's he doing?" he asks. Karen sighs. "He's stimming," she explains. "It's how he deals. Just let him be." Chip nods, his gaze firm on Plankton. He wants to understand, really understand his dad. A few moments later, the nurse, Marta, calls them back. "Sheldon Plankton?" He flinches. "Stay and we'll be coming out when after all done," Karen tells Chip, before following Marta in Dr. Joyce's office with Plankton. The room is cold, the smell of antiseptic lingering. Plankton's body tenses, his stomach in knots. But Karen's hand is in his, and her grip is firm. He tries to focus on that. Dr. Joyce enters, his face kind. "Ready?" he asks. Plankton nods. "Karen can sit and hold your hand, ok? Now, this is a plastic bitewing slab. It'll let us be able to reach in to your mouth after you're asleep." Plankton nods again, his hand squeezing Karen's. The nurse places the bitewing in his mouth, his teeth biting down on it. Karen watches as the nurse gets the gas mask. "This is the anesthesia," she says, her voice calm. "You'll just breathe in. Ready?" Plankton nods. The mask is placed, the smell faintly minty. He takes a deep breath. "Breathe in," the nurse instructs. He does so. Karen's heart thumps in her chest as she watches Plankton's eye glaze over. The gas is working. She squeezes his hand, whispering, "It'll be okay." Plankton's eye rolls back slightly as the gas takes effect. His body goes limp in the chair, his eye finally closing. Karen watches, her heart racing, as the nurse quickly starts the IV. He doesn't flinch, lost to the world of sleep. She holds his hand tightly, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. The mask is then removed, as the IV continues to deliver the anesthesia. Plankton's chest rises and falls steadily. Dr. Joyce nods reassuringly. "We're all set," he says. "Now we can start the procedure." Karen watches as the nurse administers the numbing shots into his gums. She watches as they extract Plankton's wisdom teeth. And she watches as they use the dissolving stitches to suture his gums. The whole time, Plankton's hand is in hers. "I'll remove the IV and put the gauze in now before he wakes. Marta you can go and get their son, Chip Plankton?" Dr. Joyce says. Marta nods, scurrying out of the room. Karen's eyes stay on Plankton's sleeping form, his mouth slightly open, his breathing deep and even. She feels the weight of what just happened. The anxiety, the fear—it was all so intense. But he's safe now, Dr. Joyce removing the IV. He then replaces the bitewing with gauze. The nurse returns with Chip in tow. His eyes are wide, taking in his father's unconscious state. "Dad?" he whispers, his voice unsure. Karen turns to him, her face calm. "He's okay," she says. "They just finished up." Chip nods. Dr. Joyce smiles at them. "You can sit with him now," Dr. Joyce says. "He'll be out for a few more minutes. Remember, his mouth will be numb. He might feel a bit funny, and will be groggy. The gauze helps with the blood. He might tend to fall asleep today. After the local numbing anesthesia's worn off tomorrow, he will be in pain for at least a week, not to mention his sensory issues. Swelling is expected; yet all these are normal." Karen nods, her hand still clutching Plankton's.

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 5 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Chip watches as his mom sat in the chair next to his dad, still asleep. Plankton's mouth is open slightly, and a tiny trickle of drool now slides down. Karen notices Chip's concern. "It's normal, honey," she says softly. "The medicine makes his mouth relax." Chip nods, though he can't help feeling a bit grossed out. He sits in the chair beside them. Karen gently wipes his chin with a tissue. "He'll wake up soon," she says to Chip. "And then we'll go home." The nurse, Marta, re-enters the room, carrying a pack of gauze. She sets them on the tray next to the dental chair. "To take home if wanted," she instructs. Karen nods, her gaze still on Plankton. His mouth is slack, and another steady trickle of drool forms. She giggles. "Oh, Plankton," she whispers, her voice filled with love. Chip stares. "Is he ok?" he asks. "It's the medicine," she explains. "It makes his mouth go a bit funny. He's totally fine." Despite the seriousness of the situation, the sight of Plankton, usually so stoic and in control, drooling in his sleep brings a smile to her face. It's a rare moment of vulnerability. Chip watches, his thoughts racing. He wants to laugh too, but he's unsure if it's okay after his earlier mistakes. Slowly, Plankton's brow starts to furrow. Karen keeps her voice steady. "You're okay," she says, her thumb still stroking his hand. His eye blinks open, his gaze unfocused. "K-Karen?" he asks, his mouth numb. Karen smiles, her hand still in his. "You're okay, sweetie. We're at the dental office. You're just waking up. You've slept right through i-" But Plankton cuts her off, his speech slurred. "Wha...?" He tries to sit up, but his body doesn't cooperate. "Easy," she says, placing a gentle hand on his chest. "You're still groggy." His eye rolls around, trying to focus on his surroundings. Chip snickers, watching his dad's movements. Plankton looks at his son, his expression confused. "Whass... sho funmy?" Karen chuckles. "It's just the anesthesia, sweetheart," she says. "You're going to be a bit loopy for a while. Chip's here, too.." Plankton's eye swivels to look at Chip, his expression bewildered. "Hi Dad," Chip says, his voice tentative. Plankton's mouth moves awkwardly, trying to form words. "Hi... itth Ship," he mumbles. His tongue feels too large for his mouth. Chip laughs a little louder this time. Karen's smile widens. "It's Chip," she says gently. "And we're at the dentist." Plankton's expression clears a bit, his antennae perking up. "Oh, yesh," he says, his speech still slurred. "Theth... wis'dum teeff." He looks at Karen, his eye wide. "Mou’f weh nighty-night?" Karen laughs, her hand still in his. "Yes, your mouth went to night-night." Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind trying to make sense of his current state. "Tee... thuh?" Chip giggles too, the tense atmosphere of before dissipating. The nurse, Marta, smiled at their reactions. "It's the anesthesia," she says, her voice kind. "He'll be like this for a little while. It's normal." Plankton looks at his hand, noticing it. "Thisshh... mh han..." Plankton asked. Karen laughs softly, squeezing his hand. "Yes; it's your hand, Plankton," she says, amusement in her eyes. He then saw his own reflection. "Why mh mou'h omver dere? I thee wis'dum teesh stiw." "No that's your gauze," Dr. Joyce says. "And it's your reflection; your mouth's just numb.." "Goth?" Plankton repeats. "Wuh 'm doin?" Karen laughs. "The dentist just took your wisdom teeth out. It's okay, honey. It's all done. You're st-" But Plankton interrupts, his voice still slurred. "Wis'dum... no mo'?" He seems to find this funny, and he giggles. Chip's laughter escalates, his screen shining with relief and joy. He reached for Plankton's hand. "Ship don’ tush me!" Plankton asks, his body jolting. His reaction is so sudden, so unexpected, that even the nurse jumps. Karen's laughter dies down. "It's okay, sweetie," she says, squeezing his hand. "Chip will learn not to touch you." Plankton looks at her, his gaze still hazy. "Pwomish?" Chip nods vigorously. "I promise," he says. "I won't touch you without asking again." Plankton's antennae twitch, his droopy smile lopsided. "Gud boy, Ship," he says, his voice still thick with the anesthesia. Chip feels a warmth in his heart. "Thish ish funmy," Plankton says, his eye glazed. Karen shakes her head, chuckling. "Let's get to the car.." She helps him out of the chair, his legs feeling like jelly. "Careful," she says. "You're still woozy." Plankton wobbles, his legs not quite understanding his brain's commands. He holds onto Karen tightly. "Iss feews... weiwd," he mumbles, his voice slurred. Karen nods. "That's the anesthesia." They make their way to the parking lot, his mouth feeling numb. The sun is bright, and Plankton squints, his eye sensitive to light. "Hone?" he asks, his speech still slurred. Karen nods. "We'll get you home, love," she says, guiding him to the car. Chip sits in the back. As Karen drives, Plankton keeps looking at his reflection in the window, his mouth filled with gauze. "Wook ath me," he giggles, his speech still affected. Karen smiles at him in the rearview mirror. "You're funny, Dad," Chip says, his voice filled with affection. Plankton looks at him in the mirror, his eye unfocused. "Yethh?" "Yeah," Karen says, her smile warm. "The medicine makes people a bit loopy. It'll wear off soon." Plankton nods, his antennae twitching. He tries to smile back, but his mouth won't cooperate. Drool starts to pool at the corner of his mouth. Chip watches, his laughter bubbling up. "Dad, you're drooling," he says, pointing. Plankton's eye widens. "Dwop it," he says, his words barely coherent. Karen reaches back. "Here," she says, wiping his chin. "Thish ish 'mberassin," Plankton mumbles. Karen chuckles. She glances in the mirror, her screen twinkling with humor. "We'll get home and you can rest." Chip watches his dad, his own laughter dying down. "I think he's enjoying it," Chip says to his mom, his voice filled with amusement. "He's feeling a bit out of it," Karen explains. "But yes, it can be like that." Plankton's eye then flutters. "Wha's happenin'?" Plankton slurs, his head lolling to the side. Karen chuckles. "You're still groggy," she reminds him, taking his hand. "You're ok."

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 6 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Plankton's antennae twitch in confusion. "Buth... my mou'h..." He tries to stay awake. Karen's laughter fills the car. "You're still under the anesthesia," she says, her voice gentle. "You're fine. Do you feel sleepy?" Plankton shook his head, his eyelid drooping. "M'so noth thweepy," he murmurs, his tongue unable to form the words properly. "I'm wiww awake." But his protests were futile. His body was succumbing to the anesthesia's remaining grip, and his head grew heavier. "I'm noth sweepy," he mumbles, his voice almost a whisper. Yet, his eye is slipping closed despite his best efforts. Karen chuckles. "You are, Plankton," she says. "You're gonna fall asl-" And just like she said, his head tips back, his eye closing. Chip feels Plankton's weight on his arm. "Dad?" But there's just a faint snore. Karen smiles at their reflection in the mirror, her heart filled with a mix of relief and love. "Well, I guess we know he's asleep now," she says. Chip looks down at his dad, who's now drooling onto his shoulder. "Gross," he whispers, trying not to laugh. Karen glances back. "It's just part of it," she says, taking a quick picture. "He's so cute when he's out." Plankton's snores grow louder, his body completely relaxed. Chip feels a mix of amusement and affection. He's never seen his dad like this before. The drive home is quiet, the only sounds being Plankton's snoring and the car's engine. Karen's eyes dart between the road and the rearview mirror, checking on them both. Chip watches his dad's chest rise and fall. Karen's eyes flick to the mirror, seeing her son watching Plankton. "You ok, Chip?" she asks. Chip nods. "It's just weird, seeing Dad like this." "It's normal after surgery," Karen says, keeping her screen on the road. "He's just really out of it." Chip nods, watching his dad. Plankton's snores are rhythmic, his breaths deep. There's something peaceful about it. He's always so tense, so anxious. But now, he's just... asleep. Karen pulls into their driveway. She turns to face them both. "We are home," she said, smiling. Plankton's snore cuts off abruptly, his eye snapping open. "Hone?" he repeats, his voice thick with sleep. Chip giggles. "Yeah, Dad. You fell asleep." Plankton sits up slowly. He looks around. "Hometh," he murmurs. Karen nods. "Let's get you inside, sweetie," she says, reaching for his hand. The house is quiet. Plankton stumbles a bit. "M'so... m'so... thweepy," he slurs. Karen laughs, guiding him to the sofa. "You just need to rest. Chip can sit by you.." Chip nods eagerly, his laughter from the car ride still fresh. Plankton's eye blinks slowly. "Thish... thish... sho co... co... comfowt," he asks, his speech still slurred. Karen covers him with a soft blanket. "Thish... ish... my... my... bedth?" His question makes Chip laugh. "No, Dad, it's the sofa," Chip says, smiling. Plankton's antennae wobble. "Bu’ ith... ith... ith's sho... sho... I’unno." His words come out in a drawn-out slur. Karen laughs. "You're just out of it," she explains, her voice gentle. "The anesthesia makes everything feel different." Chip watches his dad, his smile growing. "You're like a sleepy baby," he teases, his voice filled with affection. Plankton's eye opens a bit wider, his expression indignant. "M'not a baybee," he slurs, his body wriggling under the blanket. "M'a big boi." Karen laughs softly. "You're so right, Plankton. You are my strong man," she says, her voice soothing. Plankton tries to sit up. "I... I'm a widdle... wobot?" His words come out like a drunken stumble. Chip's laughter fills the room, his screen shining with joy. Karen helps him settle back down, his head lolling to the side. "Just rest," she says. "You're still not fully with us. Let me remove the gauze.." Plankton's eye pops open again. "Whath youf doin?" he asks, his words still thick. Karen smiles, her hand gentle. "Removing the gauze," she says. "You don't need it anymore." Plankton blinks, his eye glazed. "Wha?" He tries to lift his head, but it's too heavy. Karen removes the gauze, throwing it away in the trash. "Thheemth... my tooh?" he slurs, his gaze unfocused. Chip laughs harder. Karen gently pushes his body back down. "They took them out," she says, her voice soft. "You don't have to worry about them." Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind slowly processing the information. "O... k... ay," he murmurs. "M'think I'm gonna fallth asl... asle... asle..." His words trail off as his head droops again. Karen laughs and catches his head with her hand. "You're fine," she soothes. Chip watches, his heart full. It's rare to see his dad so vulnerable, so completely at ease. He's usually so guarded, but the medicine has stripped away that wall. Plankton's antennae wave in the air, his body still swaying slightly. "Wha's... wha's om the TV?" he asks, his eye searching the room. Karen looks around, amused. "The TV's not on," she says. Plankton's eye widens. "Buth I heareth... I heareth..." He starts to giggle again, his eye half-lidded. "Wha's... wha's my prize?" he slurs. Karen and Chip exchange a look, amusement clear in their eyes. "Dad," Chip says, his voice a gentle chuckle, "you make me laugh." Plankton blinks, his gaze still searching the room. "Prize?" Karen asks, playing along. Plankton nods, his head moving slowly. "You know, for being sumch goob," he mumbles. "Oh," Karen said, understanding dawning. "You mean, for being so brave at the dentist?" Plankton nods. "Yeth. Thath's wha’ I meath." Chip laughs out loud, his dad's antics infectious. "Okay, Dad," he says, his voice filled with mirth. "Your prize is... uh..." He looks around the room. "Your prize is... not having to do dishes tonight!" Plankton's antennae perk up. "Thath's... thath's... nof fair," he slurs, his mouth still half-open. Karen shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "You heard our son, Plankton." Chip laughs, his dad's confusion adorable. "But I wan'... I wan' my prize," Plankton whines. His tongue flicks out, touching his numb lip. "It's okay, Dad," Chip says, his voice filled with affectionate teasing. "No dishes is a pretty good prize." But Plankton's mind is loopy. "It'sh numb," he mumbles, his mouth moving awkwardly as he tries to speak. He opens his mouth and experimentally moves his jaw, feeling nothing but a weird sensation.

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 7 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Plankton's antennae wave as he moves his jaw around, his teeth finding his lower lip. He chews experimentally, his eye squinting in concentration. Karen watches, knowing his need for sensory input. "Plankton, love, be careful," she says, still smiling. "Your mouth's all numb. You could bite yourself." Chip's laughter subsides as he notices his dad's behavior. "Why's he doing that?" he whispers. "I guess it's a way of getting used to the feeling," Karen explains quietly. "The anesthesia makes everything feel weird. He's just trying to understand his body again." Chip nods, still watching his dad with fascination. Plankton's chewing slows down, his body relaxing into the sofa. "M'so tireth," he says, his words barely audible. Karen nods. "Let's get you up to bed." With Karen's help, Plankton stands, his legs still wobbly. Chip follows. They make their way to the bedroom, Plankton leaning heavily on his wife. Once in bed, Plankton looks around the room, his gaze unfocused. "Wha'... whath fhis?" he asks. Karen laughs softly. "It's your bed, Plankton," she says, helping him under the covers. Chip watches as his mom fluffs his dad's pillows. Plankton's still chewing on his numb lip, his antennae twitching. "It's okay, you can stop," Chip says, his voice gentle. Plankton's chewing continues, his expression confused. "M'not chewing," he slurs, his eye half-closed. "It's justh... thith no thensation." Karen chuckles. "It's okay," she says. "Your body's still waking up from the surgery." Plankton's antennae drop slightly. "Thurgery?" he repeats. "M'fine," he mumbles. "No moh wi’dom t'ee.." Karen chuckles, kissing his forehead. "You had your wisdom teeth out," she says, keeping her voice soothing. "You're just a bit loopy." Chip sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes on Plankton's slow, methodical chewing. "It's okay, Dad," he says, his voice tender. "You can stop now." Plankton's eye opens wider. "Wis'dum teef?" he repeats. Karen nods, her smile softening. "Yes, your wisdom teeth. They're out now. Just relax." Plankton's body sags into the pillows, his chewing continuing. Chip watches his dad with a mix of concern and amusement. "Dad, you can stop," he says, his tone gentle. Plankton looks at him, his eye still half-closed. "Wha's... wha's wrong? Sh̕op whah?" "You're just chewing on your lip," Karen explains, stroking his forehead. "It's the numbness from the surgery." Plankton's eye blinks. "It's okay, love," she adds, kissing him. "Your mouth will feel normal again soon." Plankton's chewing slows, his mouth opening wider, his teeth clicking together slightly. "M'thorry," he slurs. "M'not... m'not... tryin' tho bith..." His words are lost in the slurred mess, his head drooping back on the pillow. Karen tucks the covers around him. "It's okay, sweetie," she says, her voice soothing. "You're doing great." Chip can't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation, his mind racing with questions about his dad's autism and how to support him. As Plankton's eye begins to close, his chewing stops. Karen looks at Chip, her eyes filled with pride. "You did so good today," she says. "You learned a lot about your dad's needs." Chip nods, his gaze still on his father. "But we still have a week of recovery ahead of us," she adds. The next morning, Plankton awakes with no anesthesia left in his system, his voice no longer slurred. Karen greets him. "Hi, Plankton! Do you recall yesterday?" Plankton nods. "I remember the mask and waking up. Ooow.." He touches his face with his hands, his face contorted in pain. "It's okay," she says, her voice calm. "You had wisdom teeth surgery. You might have some discomfort." "My heightened pain receptors don't like this," Plankton says. "I—I think I'm feeling one of my absence seizures coming on.." Karen nods. She knew the harmless seizures were part of his autism. Sure enough, when Chip walked in, he found his mom holding his dad's hand. Chip doesn't know about Plankton's absence seizures, so he's surprised to find his dad unblinking, sitting up in bed. "Dad?" Plankton's eye starts to dart back and forth. It's subtle, but Chip notices. Karen sees the confusion in her son's gaze. "It's his autism, Chip," she says calmly. "It's called an absence seizure.." Chip watches, feeling his own heart race. He's never seen his dad like this. Plankton's body is still, but his eye is moving quickly. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice soothing. "It's just his brain's way of processing everything." Chip comes closer as Plankton's pupil flickers rapidly from left to right. It's a sight that's both fascinating and eerie to Chip. He's never seen anything quite like it. "What's happening?" he asks, his voice small. "It's a type of seizure," Karen explains calmly, keeping her hand on Plankton's. "It's harmless, yet it's part of his autism." Chip swallows, watching his dad's eye move erratically. The room feels still, as if time has slowed down, the only movement being the twitch of Plankton's pupil. Karen's hand squeezes his gently, reminding him of her presence. "Just wait for it to pass," she whispers. Chip stares, his eyes wide with concern. He's never seen his father so still, yet his eye moves as if it has a mind of its own. It's odd, yet fascinating to Chip. "Uhm, Dad.." Plankton doesn't respond. Karen knew she had to explain. "Chip, son, remember when I talked about how autism affects people differently?" Chip nods, his gaze still glued to Plankton. "Well, this is one way it affects your dad. It's called an absence seizure. It happens to some autistic people," Karen says gently. "He doesn't really know it's happening. He can still feel pain, but he can't really respond." Chip nods again, his heart pounding in his chest. He's never felt so powerless in the face of his dad's vulnerability. But he also feels a strange sense of awe. It's like his father's brain is taking a quick break, leaving the rest of his body behind. "What now?" Chip asks. Karen smiles. "These may last from a minute to an hour, but the duration varies. He's overwhelmed by the discomfort of his wisdom teeth, which is what set it off just now." Karen turns to Plankton. "Hey; Chip's here. It's ok!" Plankton, of course, does not respond. Chip frowns in confusion. "It's like he's in a daze," Chip says, his voice quiet. Karen nods. "It's his autism, love," she says, her voice steady. "These are called absence seizures." Plankton's pupil continues to dart, his body otherwise still.

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 8 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Chip is curious. "Mom, why do you talk to him if he won't respond to you?" "It's comforting, Chip," Karen says. "Even if he doesn't react, he feels my presence. It can help him come out of the seizure more quickly." Her voice remains calm, her gaze firmly on her husband. "You can talk to him, Chip," she suggests. "It can help him back faster." Chip swallows hard, his hand hovering near his dad's. "Dad?" he says tentatively. Plankton's eye doesn't stop moving. "It's Chip; I'm here. Can you hear me?" Karen nods encouragingly. "It's ok," Chip repeats, his voice soft. "We're here." The minutes tick by. Plankton's eye movement gradually slows, his body still tense. Chip holds his breath, his heart thumping in his chest. Eventually, Plankton's pupil stops, his eye focusing on Karen's screen. "Hi, love," Karen says, smiling gently. "It's over." Plankton blinks, his gaze shifting to his son. "Chip?" His voice is sharp. "When’d YOU come in here!" He felt self conscious. "It's okay, Dad," Chip says, his voice steady. "We were just waiting for your little seizure thing to pass." But Plankton's relieved to see Karen's smiling features. "It's okay," she says to Plankton. He nods. Plankton then starts to talk to himself, his voice a low murmur. It's his stimming, Chip realizes—his way of processing the world. "It's not funny. Just pain for a week; not doing nothing, I'll tell." His antennae twitched as he turned his head away from them. Karen knew his self-talk well. But Chip's still unsure. He doesn't understand that his dad's self-talk was not to be commented on. He just wants to help be there for his dad. "Dad, it's okay," Chip says, his voice tentative. He's still not quite sure how to navigate his dad's autism. Plankton's antennae whip around to face him. "I know it's not funny," Chip adds quickly, hoping to ease any embarrassment. But Plankton's getting upset with him now. "What are you talking about?" Plankton snaps, his voice edgy. Chip's face falls. He didn't mean to interrupt, just wanted to be there for him. "You were just talking to yourself," Chip says, his voice small. "I didn't mean to... I ju—" But Plankton's antennae are fully erect now, his face reddening. "I know what I'm doing!" he shouts, his frustration boiling over. "I'm NOT a child!" Chip shrinks back, his eyes wide with surprise. "Dad, I don't mean it like that!" he protests, but Plankton's anger is palpable. Chip looks at his mom, uncertain. "Plankton," Karen says gently, her tone even. "Chip didn't mean anything by it. He's just trying to help." Plankton takes a deep breath, his chest heaving. "I know," he says through clenched teeth. "But I don't like being talked about." Chip's eyes fill with understanding. "Sorry, Dad," he says, his voice earnest. "I just wanted to make sure you were oka-" "I'm fine!" Plankton interrupts, his voice still raised. "Just... leave me alone." Karen sighs, her eyes on her husband. She knows his sensory overload is intense. "Chip," she says, turning to her son, "Remember, Daddy's still in a lot of pain. And his brain works a bit differently." Chip nods, feeling his screen heat up. "I'm sorry," he whispers, not knowing what else to say. Plankton looks away. "I so far told him, he just can't listen but keeps going." He says, his self talk starting up again. "No laughing, I find the listening can't even do it. Not gonna work on saying it, I'm just sitting on my bed here.." Chip cuts in, just trying to understand. "Dad, we're not laughing at you! I swear, I don't think anything's funny about this. I just want to be here for yo--" "I don't need you here!" Plankton snaps, voice sharp with pain and frustration. Chip's heart sinks. He's interrupted his dad's self-talk stims once again. "I'm sorry, Dad," Chip says, his voice low. He steps back, giving his father the space he so clearly needs. Plankton's antennae wave in agitation. "You always do this," he mutters to Chip. "Think you know better." Karen watches the exchange, her heart heavy. She knows how much their son wants to support Plankton, but his good intentions miss the mark. "Plankton," she says firmly but calmly, "Chip's just trying to help." Plankton's antennae drop. "I know, Karen," he mumbles, his anger quickly dissipating. "But I can't... I just can't deal with it right now." Chip feels like he's walked on eggshells. "Okay, Dad," he says, his voice still shaky. "I'll... I'll ju—" But Plankton's already turned away, his body stiff with pain and frustration. Chip looks to Karen, his eyes pleading for guidance. "Let's give him some space," Karen says quietly. "He's just overwhelmed." They exit the room, closing the door softly. Outside, Chip leans against the wall, feeling a mix of sadness and confusion. "Mom," he starts, his voice tentative. "Why do I get Dad so upset? I'm just trying to be there for him." Karen sighs. "It's part of his autism, Chip. Sometimes, his sensory overload makes it hard for him to understand others' intentions. And when he's in pain, it's even worse." "But I didn't mean to upset him," Chip says, his voice tight. "I just wanted to be here." He wipes his tears away. Karen wraps her arms around her son. "I know, Chip," she says, her voice kind. "It's not just about you; it's about his autism. Sometimes, his brain gets overwhelmed by things we might not even notice. And when that happens, it's hard for him to communicate what he's feeling.." Chip nods, his eyes still on the door. "But why does he get so mad at me?" he asks. Karen sighs, her screen reflecting her understanding. "It's not that he's mad at you, Chip. It's just that the pain and the sensory overload can make his emotions intense. And when he's trying to deal with all that, it's easy for things to escalate." "I just wanted to be there and show my support." Chip says. Karen nods. "I know. Now, I'll be out front gardening. Let me know if you or your dad need anything." Once Karen steps outside, Chip tries to come up with a way to make his father feel seen. So he went with the first idea that pops in his head. He'll try stimming! And perhaps his dad will realize how much Chip accepts autism! Before thinking any better of his misguided idea, Chip goes into his parents room to see his dad. Plankton was on his bed. "Hey Dad," Chip says. "I bet recovering from wisdom teeth removal can be hard." Plankton merely shrugs. Oblivious to the potential harm, Chip starts to mimic his dad's stims. He rocks back and forth, his hands flicking in the air, exaggerated.

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 10 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Karen notices his tension and squeezes his hand. "Do you want me to speak to Chip first?" she offers. Plankton nods, his eye on the floor. "If you could, love," he says, his voice hoarse. "I just... I don't know how to explain it to him." Karen nods understandingly. "Chip," she says, finding her son in his room, "Could you please come and talk to your dad and me?" Chip's eyes dart to his mother's screen, reading the seriousness in her tone. He nods, following her into his parents' room. Plankton is sitting on the bed, his antennae slumped. Chip's heart sinks as he sees his dad. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice cracking. Karen sits on the bed, her hand on Plankton's. "Chip," she says, "Do you understand why your dad is upset?" Chip nods, his eyes on the carpet. "I think so," he whispers. "But I didn't know it would make him sad. But why did he get so mad?" Karen looks at Chip. "It's not just because you did the stims," she explains, her voice gentle. "It's because it's private.." Plankton's head snaps up. "No," he says, his voice firm. "It's because you don't get it." Chip's eyes meet his dad's, confused. "Get what?" "You don't understand," Plankton says, his voice shaking. "You can't just... just decide to be autistic. It's not a costume you can put on or take off." His words hit Chip like a punch to the gut. Karen nods. "Your dad's right, Chip. Autism is something we live with every day," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "It's not something to play with." Chip looks up, his screen meeting hers. He sees the sadness there, the disappointment. "But, I just wanted to make him smile," Chip says, his voice small. "I didn't know it would make him upset." Karen sighs, her screen filled with compassion. "I know, Chip," she says. "But you have to understand that autism is part of your dad, and it's not something to imitate. You can support him by learning about his condition and respecting his boundaries." Chip nods slowly, his eyes still on the floor. "I'm sorry, Dad," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to make you sad." Plankton looks at his wife, then back at Chip. "I know," he says, turning away from his son. But Chip doesn't understand, not really. He can't read the subtle cues in his dad's body language, the way his antennae are back. "Dad, I just wanted to show you that I get it," Chip says, his voice earnest. But Plankton's posture only stiffens. "Chip," Karen says, "Look at your dad. See how his antennae are down? That means he's upset." Chip's eyes follow her gaze to Plankton's antennae. They're pinned back against his head. Chip nods, his expression solemn. "But, I don't get it," he says. "How can I know if he's happy or sad if he doesn't tell me?" Karen sighs. "That's a difficulty with autism, Chip. Sometimes, you have to read between the lines, pick up on the nonverbal cues." Plankton remains silent, his antennae twitching slightly. Karen continues, "When your dad's antennae are down, like they are now, it usually means he's uncomfortable. It's like reading body language for anyone else, but with autism, it can be a bit more complex." Chip looks at Plankton, his eyes searching his father's face for any clue of what he's feeling. Plankton doesn't respond, his body no longer facing Chip. Karen sighs. "Chip," she says, her voice soft. "You have to be more observant. Look at his antennae, his body, his posture. They're all telling you his state of mind." Chip looks at her in confusion. "When his antennae are twitching rapidly, it can mean he's overstimulated, like right now," she points out. "And when they're down, like they were before, it's a sign of sadness or anger. And when he turns away, like he's doing now, it means he needs space. Can you see how his shoulders are slumped?" Chip nods, his gaze focused on Plankton's form. He's trying to learn, really trying to understand. "But what about when he's happy?" he asks, hopeful. "When your dad's happy," Karen says, her voice softer, "his antennae will be relaxed, not too high or too low. He might wave his hands slightly, or his eye will have a certain sparkle." She looks over at Plankton, who's still not looking at them. "And his posture will be more open, not so... closed off." Plankton nods slightly, his antennae twitching. He knows they're trying to mend things, but it's still hard. "And his voice?" Chip asks. "Sometimes, Dad won't change his tone of voice?" Karen smiles, a sad smile. "Yes," she says. "It's one of the quirks of his autism. Sometimes, his emotions don't translate to his voice as clearly as they would for others. He talks in a monotone, which can make it hard to tell if he's happy or sad or anything in between." She pauses, swallows. "But, if you listen closely, you'll hear the love, the pride, the joy in his voice when he's happy." Chip nods, his eyes still on his father. "And his hands," Karen says, her voice gentle. "When he's happy, they might flap a little." Chip nods again, his eyes now on Plankton's hands, which are currently clenched into fists. "But, if he's upset, his hands will be still," Karen continues. "And his eye won't have that... sparkle." Chip looks at Plankton's single eye, which is now red and puffy from crying. "I see," he whispers. Karen takes a deep breath, preparing for the next part of the explanation. "And when it comes to socializing, autism can make things a bit tricky," she starts. "Your dad might not pick up on tension or subtleties like everyone else does. Sometimes, his responses might seem blunt or strange." Chip nods, his gaze still on Plankton, who remains silent. "It's like his brain works in a different way," Karen continues. "And that's okay. It's just something we all need to be aware of and respect." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "When your dad's trying to interact with others, it can be like he's playing a game of charades. He's guessing at the right expressions, the right words, and sometimes he misses the cue." Chip nods slowly, his eyes still on Plankton. "But why doesn't he just tell me?" he asks, his voice small. "Why can't he say if he's happy or upset?" Karen sighs, squeezing Plankton's hand. "It's not that simple," she says. "For autistic people, like your dad, it can be really tough to put feelings into words. Sometimes, he might not even know what he's feeling until it's too intense." Chip's eyes widen. "So, like, he's guessing all the time?" Karen nods. "In a way, yes. But it's more than that. He's trying to navigate a world that's not designed for his neurology."

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 11 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) "But what if I do something wrong again?" Chip asks, his voice trembling with fear. "What if I make him sad without knowing?" Karen's gaze is steady. "Chip, we all make mistakes," she says, her voice filled with empathy. "What's important is that you learn from them. And when you do, you apologize sincerely." Chip nods, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looks at his dad, who's still not facing him. "I'm sorry, Dad," he says again. "I'll try to do better. I'll learn more about your autis–" But Plankton cuts him off. "Don't," he says, his voice low. "Just... just DON'T, Chip." Karen's heart breaks at the pain in her husband's voice. She squeezes his hand, her eyes pleading. "Plankton, let him apolog-" "NO!" Plankton says, his voice rising. "I can't do this right now." His body language is clear; his antennae are twitching rapidly, his shoulders hunched. Chip can see it now, the signs of his dad's overwhelm. "Dad, please," Chip says, reaching out to touch Plankton's arm. But his father flinches away, his body stiffening. Karen intervenes. "Chip, remember what we talked about?" she says firmly. "Your dad needs space right now. Give him some time." Chip nods, his screen filling with sorrow. He backs away slowly, giving Plankton the room he's asking for. Plankton's breaths are quick, his antennae twitching more than ever. Karen's heart aches as she watches their son retreat, the weight of their misunderstanding heavy in the air. She turns to Plankton, her voice soft. "Do you need anything, love?" "Just... some quiet," Plankton says. Karen nods, her hand still on his. "Okay," she said. Karen wraps her arms around him. He relaxes slightly, his body leaning into her embrace. "Hnnn," Plankton hums to himself as a stim. It's a low, almost imperceptible sound, but Karen knows; it's one of his stims, a way to self-soothe. She doesn't say anything, just holds him tighter. He starts to talk to himself again. "Some of it from, but I'm at home.." Karen doesn't interrupt; she just held him close. "Gonna be let to go.." In Karen's embrace, these words tumbled out. She doesn't try to shush him, doesn't ask him to be quiet. She just holds him gently. The next morning, Chip went into his parents bedroom. Karen's still sleeping in her bed, but Plankton was sitting up in his. The swelling in his cheeks has gone down, Chip noticed. "Dad?" Chip whispers, his voice tentative. Plankton looks over at his son, his antennae twitching slightly. "Good morning," Chip says. Plankton's eye meets his. "Hi, Chip," Plankton says, his voice soft. It's clear he's still upset. Chip swallows hard. "Can we, can I sit on your bed with you?" Plankton nods, his antennas still, and Chip sits down gently, his eyes on his dad's face. "I'm sorry," Chip says again. "I didn't know I was doing something wrong.. I won't do it again." Plankton sighs, his eye on the ceiling. "It's not about just that, Chip," he says. "It's about understanding. You can't just decide to be autistic, to understand what I go through." His voice cracks. Chip nods, his eyes wet. "I know," he says, his voice small. "But I want to try. I want to know more." Plankton looks over at him, his antennas twitching. "I see that," he says, his voice a little softer. "But it's not something you can put on or take off. It's part of me." Chip nods again, swiping at his eyes. "I know," he whispers. "But I want to help." Plankton sighs, his single eye still on the ceiling. "You can't help, Chip," he says, his voice a mix of resignation and frustration. "But you can learn. And you can respect." "What do you mean, respect?" Chip asks, his curiosity piqued. Plankton turns to face him, his antennae still. "It means giving me space when I need it," he says. "It means not making fun of the things I do!" Chip nods, his expression solemn. "Okay, I get that," he says. "But how do I know when you need space? Sometimes, I just wanna be with yo-" "JUST ASK," Plankton interrupts. "If you're not sure, just ask me!" Chip looks down at his hands, his thumbs fidgeting. "But what if you don't respond or ans-" "Then you wait," Plankton says, his voice firm. "You wait and you watch." Chip nods, his eyes on his father's face. "I'll learn," he says, his voice resolute. "Dad, I pro-" But Plankton interrupts again. "You'll learn by listening," he says. "When I say I need space, you respect that. When I don't look at you, you don't make me. When I'm upset, you don't make it a show!" Chip nods, his throat tight. "I'm sorry, Dad," he says again. "I'll do better. I'll learn." Plankton's antennae twitch, a sign of his emotions still running high. "You have to," he says, his voice cracking. Karen wakes up, noticing the tension in the room. She sits up, rubbing her eyes. "Everything okay?" she asks, her voice filled with concern. Plankton turns to her, his antennae slightly lifting. "We're... talking," Plankton says. Karen nods, looking at them both with pride. "That's good," she says, her eyes on Chip. Chip takes a deep breath, his eyes still on Plankton. "How do I know when you're upset?" he asks. "How do I know wh-" Plankton's antennae drop. "Look at me," he says, "ask me. Just... ASK." Chip nods, feeling the weight of his father's words. "Ok," he says. "I'll ask."

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 3 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Plankton stiffens, his body not used to such unexpected contact. "No," he says, voice trembling. But Chip doesn't let go. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice small. "Mom says it's okay to be different. That you're not 'that word'. You're ju—" But Plankton can't hear it. The touch is too much. His nerves are on fire. He gently pushes Chip away, his voice shaking. "Chip," he says, "I... I need space right now." Chip looks at him, his face crumpled with sadness. "But Dad.." Karen's hand then squeezes his shoulder. "Chip," she says gently, interrupting his protest. "Let go." Chip does so. "Mom, I wa-" But Karen cuts him off. "Your dad's autism makes sense of touch tricky for him. Sometimes, it's too much. He doesn't want just everyone to touch him. Let him approach you, and perhaps he'll let you find a way that works for both of you." Chip nods, feeling his own throat tighten. He doesn't want to make his dad sad. He looks at Plankton. "I'm sorry, Dad," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye meets his, and he can see the pain there. He doesn't know how to fix this, but he's going to try. He takes a step back, giving his dad the space he needs. He nods. Karen watches, her heart heavy. She wishes she could take away the pain in Plankton's eye. Instead, she sits next to him, her arm around his shoulders in silent support. Plankton leans into her slightly. Chip, confused, doesn't know why his dad liked his mom's touch. She did the same thing that he just tried to do! Why does his dad let her, but not him? "Dad, why can't you allow me hug you if Mom ca-" But Karen cuts him off again, her voice gentle but firm. "Chip, remember what I said? Let Dad tell you if he's okay with that kind of touch. We found what works for us." Chip nods, his eyes down. "Okay," he says, feeling a little sad. He wants to show his dad he loves him, but doesn't want to make him feel bad. Karen knew Plankton didn't want their son to think that he doesn't love him. He just can't handle certain touch. "Chip," Karen says. "He expresses himself in his own ways. He does love you. Now why don't we all get some rest?" Plankton nods. "My dental x-rays are due tomorrow. Your mom will drive us.." Chip looks up. "Dentist?" Chip asks. "I thought touch..." "Chip, it's just x-rays. We all get them each year." Karen interrupts. "And they know about his neurodisability. We always remind them, to better accommodate his sensitivities." The next day, Karen wakes Chip up so they can get to the dental office early. Chip opens his eyes to the sight of his mom. "It's time to get going, Chip. You wanna come with me to wake your dad?" Chip nods. He follows her to their bedroom. Plankton's snoring lightly under the weighted blanket. Karen smiles. "Mom," Chip whispers. "How do you wake him up?" Karen looks down at her son. "Gently, honey," she says. "Your dad's sensitive to sudden sounds and lights." She tiptoed to Plankton's bed. Chip watches closely, his heart racing with excitement as Karen reaches out slowly. Her touch is light as she gently shakes Plankton's shoulder. His snores cut off abruptly as his eye opens. "Morning, love," Karen says, her voice soft. Plankton blinks slowly, the light from the open door making his eye squint. He sits up, the weighted blanket sliding off him. He looks at Karen, then at Chip standing behind her. He learned a lot about autism and how it affects his dad. The drive is quiet. No one says much. Chip sits in the back with a mix of excitement and trepidation. They arrive at the dental office, the staff patient and understanding. The receptionist greets them. "Good morning," she says with a smile. "We are almost ready for you!" Plankton nods. In the waiting room, Chip looks around. He's been here for his own x-ray appointments. He sits by Karen, who held Plankton's hand. The nurse, a friendly shrimp named Marta, smiled at Plankton. "Ready for your x-rays?" she asked. So they all followed her into the x-raying room. Plankton felt his anxiety rise as he saw the dental chair, the whirring machine, everything so... stark. Karen noticed his discomfort. "It's okay," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "You can do this." The nurse, seeing his distress, dimmed the lights and spoke to him calmly. "We're going to keep this quick as we can," she assured him. "And I'll let you know every step before we do it, ok?" Plankton nods. He understood routines. The nurse, Marta, moved efficiently, adjusting the chair, prepping the x-ray machine. Chip watches as his dad's eye follows each movement. "Ok, Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice calm. "Open wide." Plankton does so, and she quickly snaps the x-ray. The room fills with a brief flash of light and a buzz. Plankton's body tenses, his eye flickering. "Good job," she says. The door opens, and in comes his dentist, Dr. Joyce. "Hello again Plankton! I see you've got x-rays!" Plankton nods. "It's all done," he says, his voice soothing. "Now, let's see how those teeth are doing." He holds up Plankton's x-rays to the light, studying them before projecting them onto the screen. Plankton watches as Dr. Joyce points out his wisdom teeth. "These guys will grow, and out of place," he says, tapping the screen. "They're impacted. We'll need to take them out, today." Plankton's breathing quickens. He wasn't ready for this. His mind starts to spiral. "No," he says, his voice cracking. "No, no no no..." Karen's grip tightens on his hand, her eyes full of concern. "It's ok, Plankton," she whispers. "You can do it." But he's not listening. The words are just noise now. The room starts to spin. Plankton's heart races, his breath coming in quick gasps. He can feel his body shutting down, his mind racing with fear. "Can't," he stammers, "I can't..." Karen's eyes are wide with worry. She's seen this before, but never with Chip here. She quickly stands up, her hand on his arm. "Plankton, breathe," she whispers. "Slowly, in and out." But he's not listening. He's in his own world now. The nurse, Marta, steps back, giving them space. Chip feels his heart thumping in his chest. He's scared. His dad has never been like this. "Dad," he says, his voice small. "It's okay. We're here." But Plankton's staring at the wall, his body rigid. Karen keeps talking to Plankton, her voice soothing. "Look at me, honey," she says. "You're safe here." Chip watches, feeling powerless. He's never seen his dad like this. The room seems to shrink around him, the whirring of the x-ray machine echoing. Chip reaches out his hand, tentatively, placing it on Plankton's shoulder. But that's the last straw. With a yelp, Plankton pulls away, his whole body recoiling. Chip's eyes fill with tears. What did he do wrong? He just wanted to help. "Chip, no," Karen says, her voice firm. "Let me handle this." She turns to Marta, the nurse. "Can you take Chip back into the waiting room?" The nurse nods, gently guiding Chip out of the room. He looks back at his dad, his eyes now brimming with tears.

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 2 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Karen, unaware of the mistranslation, went into the bedroom after gardening. She found her husband sitting on his bed, upset. "What's wrong, Plankton?" she asked, concerned. "You told..." Plankton couldn't even mention the word. The pain was fresh and raw. Karen's screen searched his face. "About your autism?" she said. "I only told him to help him underst--" "I know," Plankton interrupted, his voice shaking. "You said it, did you NOT?" Karen looked at him with confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice gentle. "Plankton, I—" But Plankton was already getting to his feet, his body shaking with anger. "Enough," he managed to spit out. "You taught our son that word?!" Karen's eyes widened. "What word? Chip knows about your autism, yes." Plankton cut her off, his voice rising. "How could you? You think I'm a... a..." He couldn't even say it. Karen watched him, her confusion growing. "Plankton," she said, reaching out a tentative hand. "What's going on—" But Plankton shrugged her off. "You think so little of me?" he demanded. "You think I'm less than because my brain is structured differently?" Karen took a step back, alarmed by his reaction. "Plankton, what are you talking about?" she asked, her voice quivering. "I love you just the way you ar—" "Don't," he said, holding up a hand. "Don't say it. Don't lie to me." Karen looked at him, puzzled. "Chip didn't say anything bad.." Plankton's anger grew. "The word," he said, his voice shaking. "The one he said you used to describe me, is bad!" Karen's screen crumpled in confusion. "What word?" she asked again, her voice smaller this time. "What did Chip say?" Plankton's anger didn't waver. "The one that ends with 'd'!" he snapped. "How could you use that word for me?!" Karen's eyes searched his, still not understanding. "I don't know what word you're talking about," she asked, her own eyes filling with tears. "I only told Chip about your autism that's all." Plankton felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Could she really not know? He took a deep breath, his voice trembling. "The word, Karen," he said. "The one that starts with 'r' and ends with 'd'‽" Karen's screen went pale. The realization dawned on her. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Plankton; no. That's not what I told Chip. I never say that word." She searched his eye, desperate. "I didn't even know Chip knew of that word!" Plankton's fury began to subside. "But he said you told him," he replied, his voice still shaking. "He used it." Karen's screen filled with sorrow. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "Plankton, I'll talk to him, I'll explain.." Plankton nodded, his anger fading into a deep sadness. He knew Karen would never deliberately hurt him. "My bad," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I j-just need some time alone." He turned away, his shoulders slumping. Karen felt her heart break for him. She knew the power of words, and the sting of that particular slur. She wished she could take it back, but she knew she couldn't. Instead, she left the room, lettting Plankton have his space to process his emotions. In the quiet, Plankton's mind raced. He thought of all the times he'd hidden his autism, the efforts he'd made to fit in. Now, his son thought of him as 'that word'. The weight of his pride suddenly felt unbearable. "To clean up," Karen heard Plankton mumble. It's one of his stims, to talk to no one in particular. That he didn't like to be bothered whenever he engages in his self-talk. Karen went into Chip's room, finding him on his own bed. She felt upset. "Chip," she began, her voice quiet but firm. "Your dad.. What did you say to him?" Chip looked up, his screen innocent. "I just said what you told me," he said. "That he's a..." But Karen cut him off. "Chip, honey," she said, her voice trembling. "What EXACT word did I use about your dad?" Chip frowned, thinking back. "You said he's autistic," he said, his screen meeting hers. "But dad's upset," he asks, looking confused. Karen's eyes filled with sorrow. She took a deep breath, knowing this was the moment to set things right. "Chip," she said, "I told you that your dad has autism, but I didn't say that word. That's a bad word, a word we don't use." Chip looked at her, his confusion clear. "But it's like, the same thing," he protested. "No," Karen said firmly, sitting down beside him. "That word is NOT the same as autism. It's a mean word that some people say to hurt others. It's not who your dad is. He's SMART. And autism is a spectrum; some autistics don't even talk! But that term is offensive, bullying. It's not okay. Those with CONDITIONS like, say learning differences, are what's called neurodisabled." Chip's eyes widened as he processed this. "So, dad's like... super special?" he asked. Karen nodded, her smile gentle. "In a way. Some people might say their condition is a super power, usually younger people when trying to explain it. But your dad isn't os open about his autism, and he might feel made fun of if you say that. Make sure to ask before you assume so you know how the person likes to be referred." Chip's eyes searched his mother's screen, trying to understand. "So, like, I can't call him special?" Karen chuckled despite the tension that still lingered. "Depends on the context," she replied. "But it's not up to us when it comes to his preferences. We can advocate for his needs by asking if he needs help. Otherwise, don't tell him how he should or shouldn't be. It's not his choice, but it takes strength to recognize when a person's reached their limit. All feelings are valid, even if they're not always pretty. Even if he can't show the same way we do." Chip really didn't fully understand, but he knew his dad was upset. And he wanted to fix it. He slid off the bed and took Karen's hand. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt Dad. I wanna make it right!" Karen's heart swelled with love for her son. "Thank you, Chip," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Why don't we go talk to him?" So Karen leads Chip to the bedroom she shared with Plankton. He's on his bed, rocking while hugging his knees. Stimming. "Dad?" Chip says tentatively, his heart racing. Plankton looks up, his eye red. Plankton's gaze meets Chip's, and the weight of his son's question hangs in the air. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Whaddya want?" he responds, voice strained. Then Chip makes the mistake of hugging him.

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣 Pt. 4 by NeuroFabulous They found Chip sitting on the floor of his room. Karen knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around his small frame. "It's ok Chip," she whispered. "Dad didn't mean to scare you." Plankton sat on the edge of the bed, his body still shaky from his meltdown. He watched his wife and son with a mix of love and despair. He didn't know how to bridge the gap that had suddenly appeared between them. Karen sat beside him, her hand on his arm, her gaze filled with understanding. "We need to talk to Chip," she said gently. "He's scared, Plankton. He just needs to know what's go—" But Plankton was already spiraling, his chest tightening as the fear of the unknown consumed him. His eye was wide, his breaths quick and shallow. He clutched at his chest, his heart racing. "I can't." The room spun around him, his stims turning into a full-blown panic attack. Karen's eyes searched his, seeing the fear and desperation. She knew this was a moment they couldn't ignore. "Plankton, you can do this," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "We're going to te-" But Plankton's panic was too intense. His body began to shake, his breaths coming in quick, sharp gasps. He couldn't control his stims. "I CAN'T!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. His antennae twitched erratically, his body contorting in an effort to escape the overwhelming anxiety. Chip's eyes grew wider at his father's distress. He didn't know what to do, but he knew he wanted to help. He scoots closer, reaching for Plankton's hand. "Dad?" he whispered. The touch was like electricity to Plankton. He jolted, his panic escalating, his body thrashing uncontrollably. Karen held Chip back, knowing that Plankton's flailing limbs could accidentally harm him. "Daddy," Chip called out, his voice trembling. Karen saw the fear in Chip's eyes. "Chip," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos around them, "Dad's having a bad seizure. He gets them sometimes because his brain is working extra hard. We need to stay calm, let him have his space." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's convulsing form. He didn't understand why his dad's brain would do this to him, but he knew he had to be brave. The room was silent except for the harsh sound of Plankton's labored breaths. Karen's heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. This was a side of Plankton she had shielded Chip from for so long. But now, there was no hiding it. She knew that the conversation they had been avoiding was now inevitable. The seizure raged on, Plankton's body jerking and twitching with an intensity that made Karen's own body ache in empathy. She watched his face, contorted in pain, and wished she could take it away, wished she could explain to their son what was happening. But Chip's innocence shattered by the scene before him. His tears fell silently, mixing with the fear in his eyes as he stared at his dad. Plankton's body jerked wildly, his stims a silent scream for help. The room was a blur of movement and noise, his sounds filling the air like a cacophony of distress. Karen held Chip tightly, his small body trembling against hers. "It's ok, Dad's brain just needs a moment to calm down," she murmured. Plankton's seizure eventually subsided. Karen remained by his side, her eyes never leaving his face as she whispered soothing words. "You're ok," she murmured. "You're safe." Plankton's eye flitted open, unfocused and glassy. The room was quiet, the only sound being his own labored breaths. He looked around Chip's bedroom. "Wha-wha-wha?" he stuttered, his voice still thick with his postictal state. Karen and Chip stared at him, their faces filled with a mix of fear and relief. Plankton's mind was still racing, trying to catch up with reality. "Wha-wha-wha?" he repeated, his mouth forming words that didn't make sense. Karen took his hand, her eyes filled with love and patience. "You had a seizure, Plankton," she said softly. "But you're coming out of it now." Plankton's gaze drifted around the room, his brain trying to piece together the fragments of what had happened. Plankton's tremors had evolved into a loop of silly sounds and gestures. He giggled, his eye crossing slightly as he waved his arms in the air. "Hi, buddy," he said, his voice slurred and childlike. Chip stared at him, not knowing how to react. "You're okay, Dad?" Chip ventured, his voice shaky. Plankton looked at him, his face a mask of confusion and child-like innocence. He giggled again. Chip watched his dad, his heart pounding. The silly sounds and movements were so unlike him. It was like watching a stranger in his dad's body. "What's going on?" Chip asked, his voice trembling. "Is he okay?" Karen nodded, her eyes filled with both love and sadness. "It's called postictal delirium," she said softly. "It can happen after a seizure. His brain is just trying to reboot." Plankton looked at them both, his movements becoming more erratic. "I'm a... I'm a... root?" Karen couldn't help but smile through her tears. "No, honey, you're not a root," she said, her voice gentle. "You're just a bit mixed up right now." Chip watched his dad, his mind racing. He had never seen him act so... so weird. "But Dad," he stammered, "you're not a root.." Plankton chuckles, his eye glazed over. Karen's smile grew sadder. "It's okay," she reassured Chip, her voice steady. "This is just a phase, it will pass. His brain is just trying to get back to his normal." Plankton's legs pushed his body to his side as drool formed at the corner of his mouth. Chip looked to his mom for guidance, his eyes pleading for explanation. Karen's heart ached watching her husband's mind struggle to find his footing. She knew this was a normal part of his recovery, but it was hard not to feel a pang of sadness at his vulnerability. "It's okay, sweetie," she said, her voice calm and steady. "See, his brain is still trying to wake up," she explained, her voice calm and soothing. "It's like he's in a dream, and we just have to wait for him to come back to us." Chip studied his father's face, his mind racing to understand. "But why is he acting like that?" he asked, his voice filled with worry. "It's part of his recovery," Karen said, wiping a tear from her eye. "Sometimes after a big seizure, his brain needs a bit of time to get itself sorted out. He might say or do things that don't make sense. It's like his brain is playing catch-up." Plankton rolled onto his stomach, trying to crawl around on the bed. Chip watched, his heart racing. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Karen couldn't help but chuckle through her own tears. It was a sight to see his normally stoic demeanor so playfully distorted. "Wormy wormy," Chip repeated tentatively, a tiny smile playing on his lips despite the fear that still lingered. Plankton crawled to Chip, drooling still, his eye still glazed over. Karen watched the interaction with a bittersweet smile, heart torn between laughing at Plankton's silliness and crying for the reality behind it. "That's right, buddy," she said, her voice soft. Chip laughed too, though the fear in his eyes hadn't fully dissipated. His dad's normally stern face was a picture of joyful confusion, his movements those of a playful puppy. "Daddy, what's so funny?" Chip asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Plankton giggled, his limbs flailing. "Tickle monster," he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and slurred. He reached out and poked Chip in the hand, his movements uncoordinated but playful. Chip stifled a laugh, his fear slowly giving way to amusement. "Dad," he said, his voice gentle, "you're not a tickle monster." But Plankton's reaching for Chip again. "Tickle monster, tickle monster," he repeated, his voice growing more insistent. Chip felt a strange mix of emotions bubbling up inside him. He was still scared, but there was something endearing about his dad's newfound silliness. Chip giggled. "Dad, stop," he protested, but his laughter betrayed his enjoyment. Karen herself watched from the edge of the bed, her own smile growing. She knew whenever Plankton fully came back to himself, he'd be completely humiliated to find himself like this.

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣 Pt. 6 by NeuroFabulous Plankton's sobs grew softer, his body slowly relaxing into hers. He's exhausted from today's events, and his eye had fluttered shut. Karen stroked his back, her mind racing. They needed to explain to Chip about autism, and they needed to do it now. It was time to break the silence and start a conversation that was long overdue. "Chip," she called out, her voice gentle, "can you come back here, sweetie?" Chip came, his eyes red from crying. He slowly approached, his heart racing. "Dad?" Plankton's eye then flitted open, and he looked at his wife, then his son. He felt so tired, his mind a jumbled mess. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, his eye half-lidded with fatigue. "Don't be sorry," Karen said. "Come sit," she beckoned to Chip, who approached slowly. He climbed onto the bed, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. Plankton's eye was half-closed, his body heavy with sleep. Karen knew the emotional outburst had exhausted him. "What's autism, Mom?" Chip's voice was filled with curiosity. "It's a part of your dad's brain," Karen began, carefully choosing her words. "It's something he was born with." Chip looked at her, his eyes still wide with question. "But what does it do?" Karen took a deep breath, stroking Plankton's back. "Well," she said, "it makes him see the world a little differently. Sometimes, his brain gets really busy, like when there's a lot of noise or when things are too bright. It can be hard for him to handle. And sometimes, when he's had a big seizure, he gets like this," she gestured to his sleepy form in her arms. Chip studied his father's face, his curiosity piqued. "Does that mean he's sick?" Karen looked at her son, her heart heavy with the weight of the truth. "No, Chip," she said, her voice soothing. "It's like having a different kind of brain that sometimes needs extra care and understanding. Dad's autism is like his brain's special way of working," Karen explained, her voice calm and even. "It's like a computer sometimes runs really fast or really slow, and we just need to know how to help him when it's too much." Chip nodded. He thought about his own video games, how his console sometimes glitched or lagged. He couldn't imagine his dad feeling like that. "But what about his stims?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. Karen took a deep breath, her heart racing as she tried to explain. "His stims are like little things he does to help his brain feel better. It's kind of like when you pace. But he doesn't like for us to call attention to them," Karen said gently, trying to find the right words to explain. Chip nodded. "But why did he get so mad?" "Because," Karen said, her voice soft, "his brain was overwhelmed. Sometimes autistic people can get upset when they don't feel understood. And when you used that bad word, it just reminded him of all the times people have said things without knowing what it means to be autistic." Chip's eyes grew wide with realization. "But I didn't know it was bad," he said, his voice tiny as tears threatened to spill over. And Plankton's body tensed at the mention of the word. "Well," Plankton began, his voice thick with sarcasm, "now you know." His tone was sharp, his anger palpable. "So, now that you've seen the freak show, you can tell all your friends!" Chip's eyes filled with hurt at his father's harsh words. "Dad, I didn't mean to up-" "Oh, you didn't mean to?" Plankton interrupts. "Aw, are you gonna give me the 'I'm just a kid' excuse?" His tone was laced with anger and sarcasm. "Well, here's a newsflash, kiddo: words have consequences. So maybe you can tell all your little pals about how 'fun' it is to have a dad who turns into a blubbering mess at the drop of a hat! Is that right, little man?" Karen's grip on Plankton's arm tightened. "Plankton," she said, her voice firm but filled with love. "That's en-" But Plankton's anger would not be contained. "What, Karen?" he snapped, his eye glaring at Chip. "You think I don't know what he's going to do? That he's not going to tell his friends?" Chip's lip quivered, his heart racing with fear and guilt. He didn't understand why his dad was so upset. "I-I won't," he promised, his voice shaking. "I didn't know. And I'm sor—" But Plankton's sarcasm continued, his voice sharp as a knife. "Oh, you're sorry," he spat. "That fixes everything, doesn't it? Ohhhhhhhh look, Chip's such a good boy, he said sorry!" He mocked, his antennae waving erratically. Chip felt a knot form in his stomach, his cheeks burning with shame. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't meant to upset his dad. "Plankton," Karen's voice was firm, "that is enough. You're scaring him." Chip's eyes filled with tears, his voice trembling. "I just want to know why you're acting so mad," he choked out. Plankton's antennae drooped, the anger in his voice giving way to frustration. "I just want to be by myself," he said, his voice low. Chip looks at his mother, his eyes pleading. Karen nodded, her heart breaking for both of them. "Okay," she said gently. "We'll leave you alone for now. But remember, we love you." She kissed his forehead. Chip climbed off the bed. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered before exiting the room, his tiny legs carrying him as fast as they could to his own room. Karen watched him go, her heart aching. She turned to Plankton, who was now lying on his side. "Why do you have to be so hard on him?" she asked, her voice filled with frustration and love. "He didn't know what he was sa-" "I know," Plankton cut her off, his voice tired. "I know he didn't know. But it doesn't change the fact that it's hurting me.." Karen sat next to him, silent for a moment. She knew his anger was a defense mechanism, a way to protect himself from the fear and pain of being misunderstood. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her hand on his arm. "But you're right, what he said was hurtful. That's why I wanted us to explain." Plankton sighed, his body slowly deflating. "I know you're trying to help," he said, his voice tired. Karen leaned in, her eyes filled with compassion. "And we're here for you," she said firmly. "We're a team. You don't have to..." But Plankton's eye closed. "I know," he murmured. "But sometimes...it's just so hard. I'm tired.." Karen nodded, her hand still on his arm. "I know, sweetie," she said, her voice gentle. "But Chip loves you. He just needs to understand. And we ca--" But her words were interrupted by Plankton's snores. Karen sighs, stroking his arm. She knew these conversations weren't over, but for now, he needed rest. She leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'll take care of him," she whispered. With a heavy heart, she got up from the bed and closed the door behind them. She found Chip in his own room, sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes fixed on the floor.

Here's what you should do for someone with signs of heat stroke: Move the person out of the sun or heat to a cooler spot. Pour water over their skin and use anything available to fan them. Soak a towel in ice water and apply it to their skin. ... Apply ice or cold packs to their armpits or neck. Perhaps eat pretzels or crackers

🅃🄾🅄🅁🄴🅃🅃🄴 🅂🅈🄽🄳🅁🄾🄼🄴 𝚃𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙰 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜.

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣 Pt. 3 by NeuroFabulous Plankton's stims grew more pronounced, his mouth moving rapidly, producing a series of sounds that didn't form words. "Kkr-kr-kr-kr," he murmured, his eye squeezed shut tightly. Chip felt his own heart race, but he also felt a strange sort of fascination with his dad's behavior. Karen knew that Plankton was trying to regain control over his senses. This verbal stimming was a way for his brain to reset, to find comfort in the repetition and rhythm of the sounds. But Chip didn't know what was happening. He watched his dad with a mix of fear and curiosity. The "kr-kr-kr" sounds grew louder, more erratic. Karen knew this was the moment they had been dreading, the moment when they would have to explain everything to Chip. But she also knew that Plankton's fear was real, his need for control overwhelming. So she waited, her eyes never leaving her husband's face. Chip stared at his dad, unsure of what to do. The sounds were both fascinating and scary, his young mind trying to process the scene before him. He had always known his dad was different, but he had never seen him like this. Plankton's stimming grew louder, his mouth moving faster. "Tss-tss-tss-tsss," he repeated. "Shc-shc-shcss," his tongue dancing around his mouth. Karen recognized the patterns, the sounds he made when he was overstimulated and trying to ground himself. Her eyes filled with love and understanding, she gently guided Chip to the bed. "Come sit with us, sweetie," she said, patting the mattress. "Let's talk about what's happening." Chip climbed onto the bed, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face as he continued his strange pattern of sounds. "Dad," Chip whispered, "are you okay?" But Plankton didn't respond, his vocalizations now increasing in volume and speed. "Ck-ck-ck-ck," he repeated. "Hx-hx-hx-hx." Chip's eyes were wide with unyielding curiosity as his dad continues to rock back and forth. Karen looked at her son, seeing the question marks in his eyes. "Your dad is okay," she assured him, keeping her voice steady. "He's just making sounds that help him feel better right now." Chip studied his dad's face, his curiosity outweighing his fear. "But why?" he asked. Karen took a deep breath, knowing this was a delicate moment. "Dad's brain works different, remember?" she explained, trying to keep her voice steady. "Sometimes, his body does things, even without his permission, to help him feel safe." But Chip was still scared. He didn't understand why his dad was so upset. He had only wanted to help. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he watched his dad rock back and forth, making those strange noises. Karen reached over, taking Plankton's hand, her voice soothing. "It's okay," she whispered. "You don't have to hide anymore." Plankton flinched at her touch, his stims becoming more erratic. "Chip, your dad just needs a little more time," she explained. "He's not mad at yo--" "YES, I AM MAD!" Plankton interrupted, his voice sharp. "Why does Chip think he can just barge in and see me like this?! You're not supposed to be in here!" The room was thick with tension as Chip's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to scare y—" "You didn't scare me," Plankton snapped, his anger sharp. "But you just had to go poking around, didn't you!" Karen felt a squeeze of fear in her heart, but she knew this was not the time to interfere. "Plankton," she said calmly, "Chip was just worried about you." Plankton's anger didn't abate. "I don't need his pity!" he shouted, his stims turning into a full-blown meltdown. His body is now no longer his own. Chip shrank back, his innocence shattered by his father's rage. He had never seen Plankton like this before, had never felt so unwanted or so afraid. "I just wanted to help," he whispered, his voice barely audible. But Plankton was beyond reason. His autism is now taking over, turning violent as Chip approached with an outstretched hand. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Plankton bellowed, pushing Chip away with surprising strength. The small boy stumbled back, his eyes wide. Karen's eyes filled with concern as she watched her son's face crumble. "Chip, sweetie, go to your room," she said gently, trying to shield him from Plankton's fury. But Chip couldn't move, his legs frozen to the spot. Karen knew she had to intervene before things got worse. She moved quickly, placing herself between Plankton and Chip. "Chip, go to your room," she ordered gently, her voice firm but not harsh. "We'll talk about this later, okay?" Chip nodded, his eyes still on his father's distressed form. He turned and left the room, his small feet dragging against the floor as he walked away. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Karen alone with her husband's meltdown. Karen's heart broke for him, but she knew she had to get through to him. "Plankton," she said, her voice firm but kind, "Chip loves you. He was just sc-" But Plankton's meltdown was in full swing. He was beyond the point of reason, his voice a mix of stims and rage. "I DON'T WANT HIS PITY!" he screamed, his fists clenching the bed sheets. His stims were no longer calming; they were a manifestation of his distress. Karen felt a knot in her stomach as she watched her husband's breakdown. Her heart was torn between soothing him and protecting Chip. But she knew that Plankton's anger wasn't just directed at their son. It was at the world, at his condition, at the fear of being discovered. "Plankton," she said firmly, "look at me." She waited until his eye met hers. "Your autism is a part of who you are, and it doesn't make you any less of a person." Her words seemed to pierce his rage. He took a shaky breath, his body gradually stilling. "I just... I don't want him to see this," he murmured. The anger left his voice, leaving behind a raw vulnerability. Karen reached out gently touching his arm. "Chip isn't scared of you," she assured. "He's scared for you. And we need to talk to him about what's going on." Plankton's eye searched hers, filled with a mix of doubt and fear. "What i-if h-he’s ashamed of me?" his voice was barely above a whisper. Karen's eyes softened, her touch gentle. "Chip could never be ashamed," she said firmly. "He loves you just the way you are. Now, let's go talk to him."

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣 Pt. 5 by NeuroFabulous Finally Plankton's eye focused slightly, and he looked from Chip to Karen. He tried to sit up, but his body was still weak. "What happened?" he asked, his voice confused as he wiped the drool from his mouth. Karen took a deep breath, her heart swelling with love for her husband. "You had a seizure, sweetie," she said, her voice gentle. "But you're okay now." Plankton's antennae twitched, his mind racing as he tried to understand. He looked from Karen to Chip, his son's face still wet with tears. "Chip...I'm...I'm sorry," he stuttered, his body still trembling. Chip smiled tentatively, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. "It's okay, Dad," he said. "I just want you to be okay." The room was silent for a moment, filled only with the sound of Plankton's labored breathing. Karen felt relief, but she knew the conversation they had put off was now unavoidable. "Plankton," she began, her voice calm and steady. "Chip saw you having a seizure. And he heard me talking about your... neurodisability." She paused, trying to find the right words. "We need to tell him more about your autism. Why don't you start telling him?" Plankton looked at his wife, his face a canvas of fear and uncertainty. But he knew she was right. He had to tell Chip. He took a deep breath. "I'm autistic; I was born this way. It's like...my brain is a different operating system," he began, his voice shaking. Chip's eyes widened in interest, his curiosity overriding his fear. "But what's that mean?" "It means," he began, "that sometimes my brain does things differently than yours. And when it gets overwhelmed, like with too much noise or too many people, I might have a reaction that looks like what, whatever you saw." Chip's curiosity grew, his fear dissipating. "So, you're like a... a... a..." He searched for the right word, his mind racing. And then it slipped out. "A ret-..." Chip whispered, his voice filled with innocence. The room went cold, Karen's heart sinking as she saw the look on Plankton's face. Without another word, Plankton abruptly got up, leaving Chip's room and slamming the door behind him. Chip looked at her, his eyes questioning. "Mom," Chip said, his voice small and scared, "Wh-" "Chip," Karen said, her voice sharp, "That's not a word you should use to describe your dad!" She was upset, hurt by the ignorance his innocent question had revealed. Chip's smile disappeared, replaced by confusion. "But I didn't do anyth—" "Chip," Karen interrupted, her voice firm. "What you just said was hurtful. His autism is no..." Karen took a deep breath, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "You need to understand that words can hurt, especially when you don't know what you're talking about. Because that term, it's not nice, and it's not what we say to describe neurodisabled people." Chip looked down at his hands, his cheeks flushing. He hadn't meant to hurt his dad, hadn't even known what he was saying was wrong. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice small. Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She knew Chip was just a child, trying to make sense. "It's okay," she said finally, her voice softer. "But we have to learn to be careful with our words." She took his hand. "Let's go talk to him together." They found Plankton on his own bed, his back to them, sniffling. "Dad," Chip called out, his small voice breaking the silence. "I di-" But Plankton's body tensed, his antennae shooting up in alarm. "I don't want to talk to you," he said, angrily. "I need to be alone." Karen's heart broke for them both. She knew that this was a pivotal moment, one that could either push them apart or bring them closer. She took a step forward. "Plankton, Chip just wants to underst--" But Plankton's voice was harsh. "No." Chip took a step back, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. He hadn't meant to upset his dad. "But Dad," he began again, his voice trembling. Karen stepped in, placing a gentle hand on Chip's shoulder. "Just give him some space," she said, her voice calm but firm. "He's upset, and needs time to process." Chip nodded, his eyes still on his dad's back. He felt a mix of guilt and sorrow. He knew he'd hurt his dad. "Ok," he murmurs. Karen squeezed Chip's shoulder, her eyes never leaving Plankton's tense form. She knew he was in a world of his own, trying to soothe his overstimulated brain. She watched as he began to rub his hand against the bed's fabric, a stim of his. It was a motion she had seen a thousand times before. With a heavy heart, she knew she had to approach Plankton gently. She took a tentative step forward, her eyes locked onto his back. "Plankton," she said softly. "I know you're upset." Plankton's shoulders tightened, but he didn't turn around. Karen's hand was steady as she reached out to touch his arm. But he flinched, pulling away. She moved closer, her hand on his shoulder. "Plankton," she said softly. "Please, talk to me. We love you." He didn't respond, but his stims slowed. Karen knew his autism made it hard for him to express himself, especially when he was overwhelmed. She sat beside him, her hand on his back. "You're okay," she whispers, her voice gentle. Plankton's body stiffened, his antennae drooping. "I'm not okay," he murmured, his voice thick with self-loathing. "I am not feeling okay right now." Karen's eyes searched his face, her heart aching. "I know," she said, her voice soothing. "But you're not alone." She paused, her hand still on his back. "Chip's just trying to understand." Plankton's body was still tense, his breathing erratic. "I don't want him to see me like this," he whispered. "I don't want others to see me like this." Karen wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. "But that's what makes you, you," she said, her voice firm but filled with love. "And we love you just the way you are." Plankton's shoulders began to shake as he finally let out a sob. He buried his face in her chest, his body trembling with the weight of his emotions. Karen held him tightly, whispering words of comfort. "You're not weak," she said firmly. "You're different, and that's ok. You're still the stubborn, brave, strong man I fell in love with." Her words were like a balm to his tortured soul.

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣 Pt. 2 by NeuroFabulous Karen knew that Plankton's autism came with challenges, and one of those was dealing with sensory overload. Her hand remained steady on Plankton's back, knowing to͠uch was always either a comfort or a trigger. Plankton's breathing began to even out, and she could see the tension slowly drain from his body. Karen looked over at Chip, his eyes still filled with uncertainty. She knew it was time to explain. "Chip," she said, her voice calm and steady, "Dad has something that makes his brain work a little differently than ours. It's called autism." Chip nodded, trying to understand. "What's that, Mom? What does autism mean?" Karen took a deep breath. "It means that Dad's brain processes things in a way that's different from most people's," she explained. "Sometimes, his brain gets really tired from trying to make sense of the world, and his body has to take a little break." Chip nodded slowly, his thoughts racing. "So, like his brain needs to reboot?" "Exactly," Karen said with a gentle smıle. "And when it does, we have to be extra careful and quiet. It's like when your phone freezes up, and you give it some patience to figure things out." Then Plankton's eye blinks, now focusing. The world slowly came back to Plankton. He saw Karen beside him, her screen filled with relief and love. "Whaa-" He stuttered, his body still feeling heavy. He noticed Chip, his son, sitting on the bed, looking at him with wide eyes and tears streaking down his face. "Ch-Chip?" Plankton managed to croak. The sight of his son's presence told him that he'd been watching. Chip's eyes widened, hope filling his voice as he called out again, "Dad!" Plankton winced. Karen reached for Chip, pulling him into a side hug. "Remember, sweetie, we need to be calm and quiet for Dad. He's coming back." Plankton blinked rapidly, his senses slowly returning. He looked at his son, then at his wife, feeling a mix of emotions - fear, guilt, exposed, understanding, mortification. Suddenly, a tic took over. His face scrunched up involuntarily. Chip had never seen his dad do this before! "It's okay," Karen whispered quickly to Chip, sensing his alarm. "Sometimes, Dad's brain needs to do little things to get all the energy out. It's just a part of his autism." "Kkr-kr-kr-kr," Plankton stims. Chip leaned in, his eyes still full of unshed tears. "You okay, Da-" "I'm fi-fi-fine," Plankton interrupted, his voice still stuttering. Karen turns to their son. "Chip, sometimes Dad's brain needs to make little noises or movements to get all the extra energy out." He had managed to keep this part of himself hidden from his son for so long, and now, here he was, exposed and vulnerable in front of him. Chip studied his dad's tics closely. Plankton's eye was blinking rapidly, and his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, creating a staccato. Chip leaned closer, trying to mimic the sound with his own mouth. "You sound like a dolphin! How do-" "Chip," Plankton interrupted, his voice tight with anger and self consciousness, "that's ENOUGH, so STOP IT." The sharpness of Plankton's tone cut through the room, silencing Chip's curiosity. He hadn't meant to upset his dad. He just wanted to make him feel better. The twitches and noises of his tics had now stopped, but the tension was palpable. "I-I'm sorry, Dad," Chip stuttered, his voice small. Tears glistened in his eyes. Karen looked at Plankton with concern. "Honey," she began gently, "we need to talk to Chip about this. He doesn't know what's happe—" "I KNOW what's happening!" Plankton snapped, cutting her off. His anger was palpable. "He doesn't need to see this!" The room fell silent except for the sound of Plankton's quick, shallow breaths. Karen swallowed hard, knowing that she had to handle this situation with care. But Plankton didn't want his son to see him like this, so out of control. "Get out!" he shouted at Chip. "I don't want you here!" His voice was raw, his emotions spilling over. Chip's eyes widened in shock, his mouth dropping open in a gasp. He had never seen his dad so angry before. His heart was racing, his own chest tight with fear. "But, Dad-" he began. "I said get̴ out!" Chip scurried away, his feet thumping on the floor as he rushed to leave. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving him in the hallway. He leaned against the wall, his breaths coming in quick, sharp gasps. Tears rolled down Chip's screen as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. His dad had never yells at him like that. He felt a pang of hurt, but also fear. What had he done wrong? He just wanted to help. Karen stepped out of the room, leaving Plankton alone with his guilt. She knelt down beside Chip, pulling him into a warm embrace. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Dad didn't mean to scare you. He's just overwhelmed." Chip sniffled, his eyes still on the closed door. "But why is he so mad?" he asked, his voice small and shaky. Karen sighed. "He's not mad at you, Chip. He's just scared and confused. Sometimes his brain gets too much information, and it's hard for him to handle it all." Chip looked up at his mom, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "But why did he tell me to leave?" Karen took a deep breath. "Chip, your dad loves you so much," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "But sometimes his autism makes him feel things really intensely. He's not mad at you, he's just upset because he didn't want you to see him like that. Sometimes, when people with autism get overwhelmed, their emotions can come out in big ways, even when they don't mean to scare us." Chip wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "But why doesn't he tell me about it?" he asked, his voice quivering. "Why does it have to be a secret?" Karen sighed heavily. "Because sometimes, people feel embarrassed or scared to talk about things that make them different." She rubbed his back soothingly. "But now that you know, we can help him feel less alone." Chip nodded, but his heart was still racing. He didn't understand why his dad couldn't just tell him. "But he was so angry," he murmured. Karen nodded, her eyes sad. "I know it's hard, but it's important we talk to him about it," she said. "We need to let him know we're here for him." They both took deep breaths, preparing themselves for the conversation ahead. They walked back into the room, where Plankton still sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. "Plankton," Karen began, her voice soft. "We need to talk to him about your autism." But Plankton was still too lost in his own head to listen. He sat there, his antennae twitching rapidly, his body swaying slightly. He was in his own world. Karen watched him, her heart aching. She knew his anger wasn't directed at Chip, but at himself, his own limitations. She also knew that this was the best time to start the conversation they had been avoiding. "Plankton," she said softly. "We need to tell Chip about what your autis–" "NO!" Plankton shouted, his stims escalating. "It's none of his business!" He shouts, looking at Chip. Chip's eyes widened at his dad's outburst. He had never seen him like this. Karen's grip on Chip's hand tightened, but she didn't move to leave. "Plankton," she said, her voice calm, but firm, "Chip found you. He's already seen i---" "I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO SEE!" Plankton's voice was sharp, his body shaking slightly. "I DON'T WANT HIM TO KNOW ANYMORE!" The words echoed in the room, each one a dull thud to Karen's heart. Plankton's stims were more pronounced now, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth in a rapid, nervous pattern. "Kkr-kr-kr," he repeated, his eye squeezed shut. Chip watched, his small chest rising and falling with quick breaths. He had never seen his dad like this, so out of control. But his fear was now mingled with curiosity. "What's happening, Mom?" he whispered. "It's okay, sweetie," Karen assured him, her voice still calm despite the tension in the room. "Dad's just trying to make sense of everything. Sometimes, people with autism do things called stims to help them cope."

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When my sister was younger she came home from school one day and demanded I take her to the library so she could get books on sign language. I asked why? She told me there was a new kid at school who was deaf and she wanted to befriend him. Today I stood beside her at their wedding watching her sign “I DO”. GMH Feb 1st, 2010

autistic-reptile love languages of autistics: • sending them posts/pictures related to their special interest them • talking to them while you're both looking in another direction so there's no pressure to make eye contact • making/buying them their same food • determining their happy stims and anxious stims so you know how they're feeling • specifying when you're being sarcastic/joking • sitting in the same room together in silence while you both do your own thing • prompting them to info dump (and listening) • • having extra earplugs/sunglasses/other sensory aids for them when they forget

🏹 🧠 🏹

💙 https://www.aucd.org/template/news.cfm?news_id=14472&id=17 💙

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖪 𝖮𝖱 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖬 Pt. 9 (@𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) "Rawr?" Chip says, trying to force a smile. "Doi." Plankton's expression goes from pained to bewildered. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice strained. Chip's heart is in the right place, but his execution is way off. "Just... just uhm– I mean, duh!" Chip says, his voice hopeful, contorting his face. "Look at me! I've got the 'tism!" Plankton's eye widens, his confusion morphing into something akin to horror. But Chip's on a roll, his stims now more frantic, his body mirroring Plankton's in a clumsy attempt at solidarity. "I'm an autie, and I'm okay!" Chip says, his voice high-pitched and forced. But Plankton's not laughing. "Chip, stop," he says, his voice strained. The pain in his jaw has been replaced by a different kind of pain—one of humiliation. Chip's mimicry feels like a mockery. "That's not right," Plankton mutters, but Chip's just getting started. "Look at me, I can even do the eye thing!" Chip says, his pupil darting back and forth in an exaggerated imitation of the seizure he'd seen earlier. Plankton's face twists in discomfort. "Chip, stop it," Plankton says, his voice strained. "That's not funny." But Chip's laughing, his ignorance blinding him to the hurt he's causing. "But Dad, you do it all the time!" he says, his voice too loud. Plankton starts to put his hands to his head. But Chip beats him to it. "Look, I can even cover my ears, like you!" Chip says. Plankton lowers his hands. "Waa! WAHH!" Chip screeched, making Plankton put his hands to his head again. Chip's trying to be supportive, but his actions are anything but. "Chip," Plankton says, his voice tight, "That's not funny." But Chip doesn't hear him. He's too busy flapping his arms. "Stop it," Plankton snaps again, his voice louder. Chip's expression falters. "What?" he asks, his voice small. "You're making fun of me," Plankton said, his voice low. Then Karen walks in. "I've finished with the garden..." Karen starts, but then sees Plankton looking upset. What happened while she was out? Was it the pain from his wisdom teeth? But this seems deeper. "Plankton," she says concerned, walking over to the bed. "Why, what's wrong?" She sees Plankton's eye filling with unshed tears. Chip stops smiling. Plankton's voice cracks. "Chip's mocking me," he whispers, the pain in his jaw seemingly forgotten. Karen's heart clenches. "What do you mean? Chip, just... just sit down. Sit by me and your dad." Chip's face falls. He realizes his mistake. "Dad, I didn't mean to make fun," he says, his voice genuine. "I just thought if I did it too, it'd make you feel less alone." Karen looks at them, confused. "So what happened? Either of you can tell me.." Plankton takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. "Chip was just, I dunno," he says, his voice strained. "I must deserve it, then." Chip's eyes widen. "No, Dad, I wasn't making fun of you!" But the words come too late. Plankton's face crumples and he begins to cry with silent sobs. The sight of his father's tears hits Chip like a ton of bricks. He didn't know his dad could be so fragile. He didn't know his actions could cause so much pain. He moves closer, his own eyes filling. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sor—" "Chip," Karen says. "What happened, while I was in the garden? Tell me what he means." Her voice was even. "What's this about making fun? Tell me, Chip." Chip sits by the bed, his head down. "I—I was just trying to... to help, Mom," he says. "I was trying to show him I underst--" "CHIP; I'm asking. What. Did. You. DO?" Karen interrupts. "I saw his stims and I thought if I did it too, it'd make him happy," Chip says, his voice shaking. "But he said it's not funny. Then he put his hands up to his head, so I did the same and got loud when he took his hands down so I could see him do it again and do it with him. And now he's crying." Karen's heart aches for her husband, but she needs to address this with their son. "Chip," she says, her voice calm. "Stimming is a way for your dad to regulate his emotions and sensory input. It's not something to mock or copy. It's personal and private." Chip's face falls. "I didn't know," he murmurs. "I just wanted to make him feel better." Plankton's sobs continue, his body shaking. Karen is still beside him, wrapping her arms around him. "It's okay," she whispers. "It's okay." Her hand gently brushes his swollen cheek, wiping away her husband's tears. Chip's own eyes are wet, his heart heavy with guilt. He didn't mean to make his dad cry. He simply didn't understand. He looks at Plankton, his eyes wide with remorse. "Dad, I'm so sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to hurt yo--" "Get out!" Plankton screams, his pain overwhelming. "I can't take you anymore, Chip!" The room seems to shrink with his father's distress. Chip jumps up, his eyes wide with fear and sadness. "Dad, I'm sorry," Chip whispers, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean to hurt you." But the apology is lost in Plankton's anguish. Karen holds her husband tighter, her own eyes misting with sympathy. She sees the hurt in her son's eyes, but she knows this is what's best for her Plankton. "Chip," she says, interrupting gently. "You give Dad some space tonight, okay?" Her voice is firm but kind. She knows Plankton needs this, needs to process without the threat of more stimulation or upset. Chip nods, his screen still on his dad, his heart aching. He's knows he's upset his dad, and now he needs to back off. "Okay," he says, his voice small. Once Chip retreats to his own room, Karen turns to Plankton. "We love you. So, so much. Chip was misguided. I think this evening, you and Chip need space from each other. I know I can't stand to see your beautiful eye cry. But if you need to cry it out, I'll be here. Or if you want to be alone to do so, I will understand." Karen kisses Plankton's forehead. Plankton looks up at his wife. "Thank you, my sweets. I wanna continue to be in your embrace for right now." He wipes a tear from his eye. Karen nods. "Oh yes, of course," she says, her arms tightening around his shoulders. "We can talk to Chip tomorrow, once you're feeling better." She kisses his forehead again, her heart aching for the both of them. The next day, Plankton is feeling better; the swelling in his jaw has gone down a bit, and his mind is clearer. He knows he needs to talk to Chip about what happened, but the thought fills him with anxiety.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 6 "Dad," Chip said, his voice filled with a mix of love and concern. "You're okay." Plankton blinked, his gaze focusing on Chip. His hand stilled, the octopus and bear forgotten. "Chip?" Chip nodded, his voice steady. "It's me, Dad. I'm here." He watched as his father's expression shifted to confusion. "What...what happened?" Plankton asked, his voice slurred and uncertain. Karen stood up, wiping her eyes. "You had a seizure, love," she explained, her voice calm. "But you're okay now. Just take your tim-" "No," Plankton said, cutting her off. He looked at the octopus in Chip's hand, then at the bear in his own. His eye searched the room, trying to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of his recent memory. "Wait," he murmured, his voice shaky. "Why the barnacles... I swear I was just..." Plankton trails off, noticing drool on the bedspread. His hand shakes as he wipes it away, his mind racing to remember. Karen's heart goes out to her husband as she sees the embarrassment etched on his face. She knows he's trying to make sense of the chaos in his head, to find his place in the world again. "You had a seizure, Plankton," she says gently. "You're ok now." Plankton's hand tightens around the bear as the fragments of his memory begin to coalesce. "Chip," he says, his voice a whisper. "He...he said..." The word hangs in the air, a shadow of the pain it had caused moments ago. Karen swallows hard, knowing that this is the moment she's been dreading. "Yes," she says gently. "Chip said something he shouldn't have." Her eyes meet Chip's, her gaze silently urging him to take responsibility. Chip nods, his eyes downcast. "But we need to talk to him, Plankton. He didn't mean it. He just doesn't understand.." But Plankton's expression has closed off. The mention of the slur brings back the hurt, and his hand clutches the bear tightly. Karen can see the walls going up again, the fear of being misunderstood once more. "Dad," Chip says, his voice soft. "I didn't mean it like that. I didn't know." He takes a deep breath, his eyes pleading. "Can we talk?" Plankton looks at him, his expression unreadable. Karen holds her breath, her heart in her throat. This was the moment that could either heal the rift or drive them further apart. "I...I'm sorry," Chip stammers, his voice shaking. "I didn't know what that word meant. I just...I just heard it and..." He trails off, his eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't know it would hurt you like that." Plankton stares at the octopus in his hand, his mind racing. He knows he should be angry, but all he feels is tired. Tired of the misunderstandings, tired of the pain that comes with every ill-intended remark. He looks up at Chip, his son's face etched with regret. "Why?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. "Why would you say such a thing?" Chip shifts his weight, his eyes downcast. "I just...I heard it," he admits. "I didn't know what it really meant." He looks at the bear, then back to Plankton. "I didn't know it would make you feel like thi—" Chip was interrupted by a knock on the front door. It's Sandy, Karen's best gal pal, dropping by to visit! Plankton's eye twitches, his thoughts racing. He wasn't ready for company, especially not when he was feeling so raw. But the sound of the door opening and Sandy's cheery voice filled the room, pulling them back to reality. "Howdy, y'all!" Sandy exclaims. Plankton looked up at her, hiding his bear and octopus in his sensory box under the bed. But Sandy saw it. "What's going on? Whatcha got in the box?" Plankton didn't want Sandy to know, didn't want anyone else to figure it out. Sandy, ever the observant soul, noticed the tension in the room. "Everything okay here?" she asked, her eyes scanning the scene. Karen took a deep breath, deciding it was time to face the music. "Plankton had a se-" But Plankton interrupts Karen. "A seriously good plan to uh, to get the Krabby Patty formula," he says, his voice quickening as he tries to deflect. Sandy raises an eyebrow. "Is that all?" she asks, not quite believing the sudden shift in conversation. Plankton nods, his hand still shaking as he tries to keep the box hidden. "Yes," he says, a bit too quickly. "Just a... a little plan. Nothing serious." His voice was strained, the lie heavier than the silence that followed. Chip watches his dad, his heart breaking at the sight of the man who had always been so strong now looking so small and scared. He knew his words had caused this, but he didn't know how to fix it. "Dad," he says, his voice soft. "We need to talk about this." But Plankton just shakes his head, his eyes darting around the room. "No," he mutters, his voice shaky. "Not now. Not with...her here." He nods towards Sandy, his anxiety palpable. "Yea, our little secret plans must wait," he says with forced joviality. Sandy's eyes narrow, sensing something is off. "Is everything alright, Plankton?" she asks, concern lacing her voice. Plankton's heart races, his mind trying to form coherent words. He didn't want to lie, but the truth felt too heavy, too complicated for this moment. "It's fine," he says, his tone clipped. "Just a bit tired. Even the greatest minds need to rest, eh?" He tries to laugh, but it comes out forced. Sandy nods, looking between the two of them. "Alright," she says, her voice still laced with concern. "If you're sure. What about the box? What's i---" "It's nothing!" Plankton says, his voice a little too loud. He's flustered, his heart racing with the fear of being found out. The last thing he needs is for Sandy to know about his autism, his secret. He waves a hand dismissively and stands up, the box of stims still hidden under the bed. "Just some... uh... inventory for the Chum Bucket," he stammers, trying to compose his features into something resembling normalcy. "You know, top-secret recipes and... and... uh, Krabby Patty... formulas," he adds hastily, his mind racing to come up with a plausible cover story. Sandy's eyes narrow slightly, not quite buying it. "Then, show me‽ I can't let you steal the Krabby Patty formula," she says, snatching the box.

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𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 10 (𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ. sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌. "𝖣𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍?" 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗌. "𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗆, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾. "𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾—" "𝖡𝗅𝗂𝗉, 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆, 𝗄𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝖣𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒-𝖽𝗈𝗈, 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗒-𝗃𝗈𝗈." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝗌. "𝖥𝗅𝗂𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋-𝖿𝗅𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗇. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒, 𝖣𝖺𝖽," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗆. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒. 𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐?" 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖳𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽. "𝖡𝗂𝗀. 𝖦𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇." 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖦𝗂𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋-𝗃𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋." "𝖸𝖾𝗌," 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖡𝗂𝗀 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. "𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽," 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖦𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗉. 𝖦𝗅𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌. "𝖣𝗂𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋-𝖽𝗂𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾- 𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍. "𝖶𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍, 𝖨'𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖣𝖺𝖽." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗃𝗈𝗅𝗍𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉. "𝖭𝗈," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋. "𝖭𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾. "𝖨'𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋. "𝖱𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒. "𝖧𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽, 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋'𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋. "𝖣𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝖻𝗒," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄, 𝖣𝖺𝖽," 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇." 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾. "𝖶𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒, 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗒-𝗐𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗒," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌. "𝖳𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗒-𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍. 𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽'𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗅𝗒. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒, 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾." 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖲𝖺𝖿𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌. "𝖬𝗈𝗆, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇?" 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽. "𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗌. 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌. "𝖶𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗉. "𝖣𝗈𝗈𝖻𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝖻𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝖽𝗈," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?" 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽. "𝖨'𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍," 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗌. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋'𝗌 𝗁𝗎𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌, 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗈𝗇 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋, 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗀𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋'𝗌 𝖠𝖢 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝗎𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽. "𝖲𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌. "𝖫𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. "𝖶𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖧𝗈𝗆𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿𝗅𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒," 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒. "𝖫𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍, 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗌 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗎𝖾. "𝖱𝖾𝗌𝗍," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗍. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖣𝖺𝖽?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽. "𝖬𝗆?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗍. "𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒?" 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁. "𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗇. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. "𝖶𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆?" 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌. "𝖫𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆. "𝖲𝗎𝖻," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌." 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉. "𝖡𝗅𝗂𝗉, 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀?" 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆, 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒. 𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒. 𝖧𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀?" 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌. "𝖬𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾," 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖪𝖾𝗋-𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆-𝗈. 𝖡𝖺𝗆-𝖻𝖺𝗆-𝖻𝖺𝗆." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗌. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗎𝗉, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝗂𝗑 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌. "𝖦𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗒, 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝗄," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖲𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗒, 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗌𝗁." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. "𝖣𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀?" 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉." 𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗁𝗋𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. "𝖯𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗄𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗆," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖨𝗇 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌. "𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁-𝗎𝗉, 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒." 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖥𝗂𝗓𝗓, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗓𝗓, 𝗉𝗈𝗉," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼?" 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌. "𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗈." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇. "𝖬𝗈𝗆, 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?" 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝖻𝗒𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒." 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑𝖾𝖽. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽'𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗉𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖺 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇. "𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, "𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾. "𝖡𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝖻𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 2 Chip notices his mom getting up, so he hurries to the living room. The floorboards creak as Karen enters, her eyes widening in surprise. "Chip? You're home already!" She tries to sound casual, but her voice wavers. Chip's face flushes, his heart pounding. "Yeah, the bus got here early." He glances away, his eyes unable to meet hers. "How was camp?" Karen asks, trying to keep the conversation normal despite the tension that now filled the room. She knew he might've heard them, but she isn't sure how much. Chip swallows hard, his eyes flitting from the floor to the ceiling. "It was fun," he responds, his voice not quite as cheerful as he'd like it to be. He couldn't shake the image of his dad sitting there, so still. "What was happening in there?" he asks, his curiosity and concern spilling over. Karen's face falls, and she sighs, sitting down beside him on the sofa. "It's something we've been trying to keep from you, sweetie," she says, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and regret. "But I think it's time you knew." With a gentle nudge, she stands and takes his hand. "Come with me to our room," she says, leading the way. Chip follows, his heart thumping in his chest. Plankton sits up in bed, his expression a mix of shock and confusion as he sees Chip. "Dad, what's going on?" Chip's voice is steady, but his eyes are wide with concern. Plankton's cheeks redden, his hands fidgeting with the bed covers. "Chip," Karen starts, her voice careful, "you know how sometimes people are just... different?" Plankton stammers, his eye darting between Chip and Karen. "It's, uh, it's nothing," he says, his voice strained. "I just had a little... quirk. That's all." But Chip can see the lie in his eye, the way his shoulders tense up like he's trying to shrink away from the truth. Karen sits down next to him, her hands folded in her lap. "Plankton, Chip heard us. It's better if we tell him ourselves." Plankton's face twists in a silent plea, but she continues, her voice calm yet firm. "It's time, sweetie." The room seems to shrink around them as Plankton's eye widens, his body stiffening in the bed. He's been hiding his autism for years, fearful of how Chip might react, of the misunderstanding he might face. "Chip," Karen starts, "your dad has something called autism." The words hang in the air, thick like smoke from a forgotten candle. Chip frowns, trying to grasp the concept. Autism? He's heard of it before, but never connected it to his dad. Plankton's face is a swirl of emotions - fear, guilt, and a desperate hope that Chip will still respect him. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen says, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll get through this together." She looks at Chip, waiting for his reaction. Plankton's eye darts around the room, his cheeks flaming red. He's flabbergasted, his mind whirling with fear and regret. This was the moment he'd been dreading, the moment he'd tried to avoid for so long. Plankton starts to rock side to side. This is his stimming, a behavior common among autistic individuals that helps them cope with overwhelming sensory input or emotions. Chip watches, his confusion deepening. "Don't stare, Chip!" Plankton snaps. "But what's that, Dad?" Chip points to the rocking, his voice tentative. "Is everything okay?" Plankton freezes mid-motion, looking angrily at Chip. "Dad, why are yo--" "It's none of your business, okay?" Plankton snaps, his voice harsher than Chip's ever heard. Karen steps in, placing a hand on Plankton's arm to calm him. "Chip, it's okay," she says soothingly. "Your dad's just trying to deal with things in his own way." But Chip can't ignore the anger in his dad's voice. It's a stark contrast to the dad he's always known, the man who would laugh at his jokes. "Mmm," Plankton hums. Another stim of his. "What's 'mmm' Dad?" Chip asks. "Is 'mmm' becau-" "Don't mock me!" Plankton's voice cuts through the air, his anger palpable. Chip's eyes widen, his heart dropping. He's never seen his dad like this. Karen intervenes, turning to Chip. "When your dad makes that sound, it's called 'stimming'," she explains gently. "It's a way his brain helps him process information and feelings. It's like a self-soothing technique. It's part of who he is, and it's something he doesn't always realize he's doing. He doesn't like for people to point it out because it makes him feel... different." Chip nods slowly, trying to understand. "But I..." Karen cuts him off gently. "It's important to respect your dad's boundaries, especially when it comes to his autism." She looks at Plankton, his rocking slowing down. "It's a part of him that helps him cope, not to judge or interrupt. Because when it comes to stimming, it's a personal and private moment for him. I don't even interrupt him when he's doing it, unless it's absolutely necessary." Chip nods, but he's still curious. "When do you know how he stims, then?" he asks his mom. She smiles gently. "Well, sweetie, it's all about knowing your dad," she says. "I've learned his cues over the years. When he starts rocking or making muttering sound, it's like his way of telling he needs a little space to sort things out. It's his private moment to cope." Chip nods, processing this new piece of information. "Does he always know when he's doing it?" Karen sighs, her gaze softening as she looks at Plankton. "Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It's like... it's like his brain is in a different place, and he needs these movements or sounds to bring him back to us." Chip nods, watching his dad's rocking slow to a stop. He looks back at Karen, his eyes full of questions. "But when he stims what do we do?" Karen's gaze meets Plankton's, and she smiles reassuringly at him. "Just give him space," she says, turning to Chip. "And if you're worried, just come find me. We'll talk about it, okay? Just don't push him when he's like this, because it can be really overwhelming for him." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. He's trying to understand, trying to reconcile the image of his dad rocking back and forth in bed with the man he's always known. He's seen his dad as invincible, as a rock. And now, here he is, vulnerable.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 1 Chip came home early from a friend's house. His parents are named Karen and Plankton. They didn't expect Chip home so early, nor do they notice him outside their bed room door. Plankton has an autistic neurodisability they've kept hidden, so imagine Chip's confusion upon seeing his dad having an absence seizure. Plankton's eye stared blankly ahead, unblinking, as Karen sat by him. "I've your box of your special sensory items. What plushie might you want?" she whispered. "I'll just get your stuffed bear." Her voice was soothing, and calm. The room was silent except for the rhythmic sound of his breathing. He was in the midst of an absence seizure, his mind momentarily adrift. She knew the routine by heart. Everything had to be just right to bring him back to reality without causing distress. Karen gently picked up the box. She selected a favorite plush, the worn bear, and then carefully approached. As she neared, she noticed Chip, his eyes wide and scared, staring at the scene from the doorway. She swallowed her surprise, trying to maintain the serene façade. "Hi sweetie, come in," she managed, her voice steady. Chip tiptoed closer, his heart racing. He had never seen his dad like this. "What's happening to Dad?" he whispered. Karen knelt beside him, her eyes full of warmth. "Chip, right now Dad is just having a little rest but with his eye open. It's like when you get so lost in a video game you don't hear me calling you." "But why is he like this?" Chip's curiosity was palpable, his voice shaking slightly. Karen took a deep breath, choosing her words with care. "Dad has what's called a congenital neurodisability," she began. "It's a bit like when a daydream but his 'neuroregressions' are more intense for him. One might call these moments 'brain hiccups'. We kept it hidden because he didn't want people to judge him." Chip's gaze never left his father's frozen expression. "But why hide it?" Karen squeezed his hand, her eyes reflecting empathy. "Because, dear, some people might not understand. They could make fun or treat him differently. We didn't want his world to be harder. And you know your father values his pride." Chip nodded, his thoughts racing. He had always known his dad was different, but he had never quite put his finger on how. "Can I talk to him?" Karen's smile was soft. "It's important that you know, but we want to make sure he's okay with sharing too. It's a form of autism he has. But right now he's in a little bubble. It's like he's in a different world, okay? But we can coax him back gently." She placed the bear in Plankton's hand. His hands curled around it instinctively, clutching the familiar softness. "He might not immediately engage with you, but you can try speaking to him." Chip leaned closer, his voice trembling. "Dad?" Plankton's eye remains fixed, unblinking. Karen gave him a gentle nudge. "Remember, sweetie, don't touch his body or startle him. Just let him know you're here." "Dad, it's us, and a stuffed bear is also here for you. The bear is so soft," Chip said, his voice a mix of fear and wonder. "It's waiting for you to wake up." He paused, watching his father's unmoving hand. Plankton's thumb twitched slightly against the plush fabric. It was the tiniest of movements, but it was something. Karen nodded encouragingly from the sidelines, her eyes never leaving her husband. "That's it, Chip," she murmured. "Keep talking to him." Chip swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes wet with unshed tears. He took another deep breath and leaned even closer. "Dad, can you feel the bear?" He paused, watching his father's hand tighten around the plush toy. "It's here, wanting you to play. Do you see it's smiling? Look, the bear's smiling just for you." Plankton's hand moved slightly, tracing the bear's stitched smile with his thumb. Karen's eyes filled with relief as she watched the connection unfold. "See, Dad?" Chip whispered, his voice barely audible. "The bear missed you. It's here to keep you company until you're ready to come back to us." His words were met with a faint sigh from Plankton, a sign his brain was slowly emerging from its brief retreat. Encouraged, Chip took the stuffed bear and waved it in front of Plankton's vacant gaze. "Look, the bear's waving back!" He hoped the motion would catch Plankton's attention, but his father remained even more still, his eye unmoving. He tried a different tactic, placing the bear gently on Plankton's lap and giving it a little shake. "It's okay, Dad, the bear wants to play," he said, his voice a soft coax. "What do you say? Can we play together?" For a moment, nothing. Then, a flicker. Plankton's eye moved slightly, refocusing on the bear. It was a small victory. "Look, Dad, it's smiling at you. It's happy you're holding it," Chip said, his voice steady now. Slowly, Plankton's hand began to stroke the bear's fur. The rhythmic motion was almost mesmerizing. Karen watched, her own heart rate returning to normal. It was always a delicate balance, bringing him back. "That's right, Dad," Chip said, his voice filled with encouragement. "You're doing great." He picked up another plushie from the box, a small octopus with long, waving tentacles. "Look what else I found, an octopus!" Plankton's gaze shifted slightly. "It's got eight arms and can give you so many hugs at once." Chip held the octopus up. Plankton's hand twitched. Karen watched with a tiny smile, her heart swelling with pride for her son's patience. "Why don't you put it on Dad's other hand?" she suggested quietly. Chip nodded, gently placing the octopus on his father's hand. Plankton flinched at first but soon grew still again. "Now, Dad, you have more friends to keep you company," Chip said. "They're so friendly and smart." Karen watched as Chip was about to speak again but she held up a finger, signaling for him to wait. Plankton's eye blinked suddenly, breaking the glassy stare. His gaze flitted around the room, trying to piece together his surroundings, his expression puzzled. "You're okay," Karen said, her voice a gentle whisper. "K-Karen?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from his unspoken silence. "What...what's going on?" he asked, his voice weak but growing stronger. Chip watched, his own anxiety fading as he saw his dad's confusion. He held up the octopus. "Look, Dad, it's okay. We're here. You had a little brain hiccup but we're playing with plushies." He tried to smile, unsure if Plankton would understand.