Sheldon J. Plankton/Karen Emojis & Text

NEW REALITY i
(Autistic author)

"You never listen to 
me, Karen," Plankton 
groused. "It's a new
analyzer I just built!
It'll reveal the contents
of a patty when I put
one in!"

Karen, ever the skeptical
wife, rolled her eyes. "You
mean IF you put one in.."

Plankton ignored 
her sarcasm, but
with a deafening 
pop, the analyzer
exploded, sending 
shards of metal
flying in all directions. 
One of these
sharp pieces slammed 
into Plankton's
head, causing him 
to stumble back.
Karen rushed to his
side, pushing aside her 
initial irritation.

Plankton's eye rolled back
and closed as he 
crumpled to the 
floor.

"Plankton! Plankton!"
Karen's voice grew
frantic as she cradled
his tiny, limp body. The
analyzer's explosion had
caused more damage
than she could have
ever imagined, the
injury had rewired his
currently unconscious
brain irreversibly: autism.

Karen carries him to
their bedroom, tucking
him in his bed. "Plankton,"
she whispers, brushing
his antennae, "Please wake up."
But Plankton remains still. Karen
sits by the bedside, her eyes
never leaving his face. "I'll
always be here," she murmurs,
squeezing his hand. The quiet
hum of their tiny underwater
apartment is broken only by the
rhythmic pulse of his breathing.

Karen starts to think. If only
she had taken his inventions
more seriously, maybe this
accident could have been
avoided? She looks at the
clock. It's midnight now.

The hours tick by, each one
lonelier than the last. Karen's
thoughts are a tangled web of
regrets and fears. What if
Plankton never wakes up? Karen can't
help but feel like a prisoner
to her own guilt. She wonders
what their life would be like now.
Would Plankton be different?
Would he still be the same
eccentric genius, or would the
injury change him completely?
Will he remember her?

The sun's first light filters through
their bedroom window, casting
a warm glow on Plankton's
face. Karen's eyes snap open,
having dozed off from
exhaustion. She sees him stir,
his eyelid fluttering. He groans,
his eye opening slowly. Karen's
heart races. He's alive! "K-Karen," 
he stammers, confused as to
how he ended up in their room.

The initial relief is quickly
replaced with a knot in her
stomach. His speech is stilted,
his movements jerky. He
tries to sit up, but the effort
seems to overwhelm him. Karen
reaches out to help, but he flinches
at her touch. She notices his eye
scanning the room with an
intensity she's never seen
before, as if he's trying to make
sense of everything around him.
"Plankton, it's okay," she says
soothingly, trying not to let her
anxiety seep into her voice.

He turns to her, his gaze
unfocused. "Karen?" he repeats,
this time with more urgency. "What...
what happened?"

Her heart squeezes tight. "You had
an accident with the new
analyzer," she explains gently,
keeping her voice calm. "It...
it exploded and hit you.."

Plankton looks around,
his eye darting from object 
to object.

"It's okay," Karen says,
desperately trying to hold 
back the tears. "You're 
just a bit dizzy."

But Plankton doesn't seem
to be listening. He's too
busy inspecting his surroundings,
his eye darting around the
room in a way that makes Karen
feel like she's missing something.

"Plankton, do you understand
me?" Karen asks, her voice
trembling slightly. He nods,
but there's a distant look in his
eye that makes her stomach drop.
The way he's acting, it's like he's
seeing their bedroom for the
first time, like every detail is
both fascinating and overwhelming.

Plankton tries to get out of bed,
but his legs wobble like jelly.
Karen jumps up to support him,
her arms wrapping around his
thin frame. "Let's go slow," she
suggests, guiding him back to
the pillows. He simply nods.

"Do you remember me?" Karen asks,
desperation tinging her voice.
His eye focus on her for a moment,
then drift away again. "Yes," he
says, but it's more of a question
than an affirmation. "Karen, wife,"
he adds, his voice flat and devoid
of the usual warmth and sarcasm.

The words hang in the air
like a lead weight, heavy with
implications. Karen swallows
the lump in her throat. "You're okay,"
she insists, as Plankton nods, looking
around their bedroom when his gaze
lands on the ceiling fan. His eye lights up,
focusing intently on it.

"Fan," he murmurs, as if discovering
the concept for the first time. "Spinning.
Round and round."

Karen's heart sinks. "Plankton," she
begins, her voice cracking, "You're acting
different." She doesn't know how to
explain what she's seeing, but she's
scared of what it might mean. His eye
doesn't quite meet hers, and his speech is
so... mechanical.

"Different?" he echoes, his voice a
monotone. "No, the same Plankton."
But the way he says it, like he's trying
to convince himself, sends a chill down
Karen's spine. She tries to shake off
the fear, telling herself he's just groggy
from the hit. But deep down, she knows
it's more than that.

new new reality Karen x Plankton i

CATCH IN MY CHIP v
(Autistic author)

The silence is heavy, filled
with the echoes of shattered
shell and shredded photos.
Karen's gaze is on her husband,
her heart aching as she sees
the turmoil in his eye. She knew to
tread carefully. She turns to him,
as he's hyperventilating.

"Plankton," she says firmly,
but her voice is gentle. 
He doesn't respond at 
first. But eventually,
he turns to her.

"I know you're upset, but you
can't talk to Chip like that,"
Karen says, her voice steady.
"He's just a kid, and he loves
you. He's trying to understand."

Plankton's breaths come in
quick, harsh gasps, his chest
heaving.

Karen approaches him, her
movements deliberate and calm.
"Plankton," she says, her voice
even. "Look at me."

Plankton's breaths slow,
his eye flicking to hers. He's
still trembling with anger, but
the storm seems to be passing.
"I know you're upset," she
continues. "But you can't take
it out on Chip. He loves you."

Plankton's shoulders slump,
his body deflating like a balloon.
"I know," he murmurs, his voice
barely a whisper. "I just... I can't..."

Karen nods, her eyes filled
with understanding. "It's okay,
sweetie," she says, her hand on his
back. "It's a lot to handle." She
guides him back to the bed, her touch
gentle and soothing. "Let's talk about
this when you're feeling better."

Plankton nods, his body still
shaking with the aftermath of
his outburst. He sits down heavily,
his eye cast down at the mess
around him. "I just wanted to show..."
he starts, but his voice trails off.

Karen sits beside him, her hand
still on his back. "I know you did,
dear," she says, her voice filled
with compassion. "But you have to
understand that Chip doesn't know
how to help you yet. And throwing
things and yelling isn't going to
make it better."

Plankton's breaths slow, his
body still tense. "But he...
he doesn't get it," he murmurs.
"He just kept pushing."

Karen nods, her eyes never
leaving his. "I know, Plankton.
And it's our job to teach him.
To help him understand." She
speaks softly, her voice a gentle
reminder of the love that fills
the room despite the chaos.

Plankton's eye meets hers,
his anger slowly receding. He nods,
his shoulders slumping. "I know,"
he says, his voice ragged with
emotion. "I just... I want him to
see me, not just... this."

Karen sighs, her hand still
on his back. "He does see you,
Plankton. He sees the amazing
person you are. But he's
just learning about autism."

Plankton's eye narrows, his antennas
drooping slightly. "But why
can't he just be careful?"
He asks, his voice filled
with pain. "Why does he have
to be so... much?"

Karen's heart breaks at the
sorrow in his voice. "He's just
excited, Plankton. He doesn't
understand the way you do."

Plankton sighs, his antennas
drooping. "I know," he murmurs.
"But it's so... overwhelming."

Karen nods, her eyes filled with
understanding. "I know, sweetie,"
she says. "But we can't expect
Chip to understand everything
right away."

She gets up and goes to the
closed bathroom door, her knuckles
lightly rapping against the wood.
"Chip, honey," she calls out, her voice
soft. "Can you come out?"

The door opens slowly, and Chip's
face is a mess of sand and tears.
Karen's heart clenches at the sight.
"Come here," she says, her tone gentle.

She pulls him into her arms,
his small body shaking with sobs.
"It's okay, baby," she whispers. "Daddy's just
having a hard time right now."

Plankton's eye follow them,
his own anger now replaced with regret.
He opens his mouth to apologize,
but no words come out. Karen nods
towards the bed, a silent invitation
for him to join them.

With a heavy sigh, Plankton
moves to sit on the edge, his
body still trembling with the
residual rage. Chip's sobs
subside into quiet sniffles, but
his face is still a picture of
hurt and confusion.

"Chip," Karen starts, her voice
calm and steady, "what happened
today is because Daddy's brain works
differently, remember?" She
looks at Plankton, whose gaze is
now on the floor, filled with
remorse. "And sometimes, we all
have to learn how to communicate
better."

Chip nods, his eyes red from crying,
still not fully understanding.
"But Daddy broke my trophy," he
whispers, holding a shard of it
in his hand.

Karen sighs, her gaze flicking to
Plankton. "Yes, and that was
wrong of him. But we need to
talk about why it happened."
She looks back at Chip, her eyes
filled with compassion. "Sometimes,
when Daddy gets too overwhelmed,
he doesn't know how to handle it.
It's like when you're really upset
and you don't know what to do with
all those big feelings."

Chip looks up at her, his eyes still
wet with tears. "But why did he yell?"

Karen takes a deep breath, her
hands stroking Chip's back in gentle
circles. "Because, honey, Daddy's brain
sometimes gets too full, like a jar of
sand with too many shells. And when that
happens, he needs a little help to
make room again."

Chip looks up at her, his eyes
searching hers for understanding.
"But I didn't mean to make him
mad," he says, his voice shaky.

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving
his. "I know, sweetie," she says,
her voice a gentle caress. "But sometimes,
even when we don't mean to, we can
overwhelm people. It's not your fault."

She glances at Plankton, who's still
staring at the floor, his body
a taut bow of tension. "Daddy just
needs some time," she says, her voice
soothing. "We all do sometimes."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II v

(„• ω •„) .ᐟ.ᐟ

new kawaii cute adorable w cutie blush cuddly precious endearing goofy v dorky cuteness neoteny kaomoji hello kitty

NEW REALITY iv
(Autistic author)

"Plankton," she starts, her voice
shaking, "the explosion changed
your brain. It's called Autism." 
His eye widens slightly
as he takes in the words, his hand
still moving in its repetitive pattern.

He repeats the word, "Autism?"
his tone curious. Karen nods,
wiping her screen. "It's like... your brain
now sees and feels things differently.
It's okay," she adds quickly, trying
to reassure him. "It's just different."

Plankton seems to consider this,
his hand finally still. "Different," 
he whispers.

Karen nods, trying to smile through
her tears. "But we'll get through
this together," she says, her voice
shaking. "We're a team."

Plankton's gaze lingers on her face
for a moment before returning to the
fan. "Team," he echoes, his hand
stilling briefly before resuming
its wave-like motion. Karen
swallows hard, trying to keep her
composure. She needs to find a way
to connect with him, to bridge
the gap that seems to be growing
wider by the second. She brings
his hand to her cheek. "Do you feel that?"
she asks, her voice a soft whisper.

He nods, his hand feeling cold
against her skin. "Feel," he says,
his tone flat. "Karen warm."

Encouraged, Karen tries a gentle
squeeze of his hand. His gaze
doesn't waver from the fan,
but his grip tightens slightly. "Squeeze,"
he murmurs, his voice a monotone.

Her heart racing, Karen decides to
experiment with different types of
affectionate touches. She strokes
his antennae lightly, watching
his reaction. His eye flutters
closed for a moment, then opens
again. "Tickle," he says, his voice a
little more animated.

Encouraged, she gently traces
his back with her fingers. "Yes
good." He says.

Karen's eyes fill with tears
as she feels a glimmer of hope.
"I'm going to try some more
things, okay?"
Plankton nods, his gaze
still on the fan. "More," he 
agrees.

Karen takes a deep breath
and starts with a soft
caress of his cheek, the way
she used to do before they
went to sleep. His eye
flickers slightly, his hand
continuing its motion.
"Okay," he says, his voice
almost a whisper.

Next, she tries a gentle
kiss on his forehead. "Karen,
nice," he murmurs, his antennae
twitching.

Encouraged, she decides to
move to a different type of
pressure.

"How's this feel; good 
or bad?" Karen
asks, placing her 
hand firmly
on his shoulder when
he suddenly flinches
and pulls away.

"No," Plankton says,
his voice sharp. "To hard."

Karen's hand recoils, her
heart racing. She tries to
keep her voice steady.
"I'm sorry, Plankton. Let's try
something else."
Plankton nods, his gaze
unfocused. "Yes, Karen. Try."

Gently, she starts to rub
his back in small, soothing
circles. "How about this?"
she asks, her voice tentative.
Plankton's body relaxes slightly.
"Good," he murmurs.

Encouraged, she tries
a gentle pat on his knee.
"This?"
"Stop," he says.

Karen's hand
freezes mid-air, her heart
racing. "I'm sorry, did I do that
wrong?"

Plankton's gaze remains fixed
on the fan. "Wrong," he confirms,
his voice a monotone.

Karen's face falls, her heart
sinking. She's treading on
thin ice, not knowing what
will trigger his next reaction.
She takes a deep breath, trying
to think of a safe approach.

"How about a hug?" she asks,
slowly opening her arms. Plankton
nods, his gaze still on the fan.
He leans into her embrace, his
body stiff at first, but gradually
softening. "Karen," he murmurs,
his voice a little less flat. Karen
holds him tightly, her heart pounding.
Maybe this is the way to reach
him, through physical affection
that doesn't overstimulate.
She squeezes tighter. "Enough!"
Plankton pulls away, his eye
wide with anxiety. Karen's heart
drops. She'd pushed too hard, too
soon. "I'm sorry," she whispers,
backing off immediately.

She tries again, placing a
hand lightly on his arm. "How
does this feel?" His eye flicks
to her hand, then back to the fan.
"Okay," he says, his voice still
mechanical. Karen keeps her hand
there, willing him to look at her,
to respond more naturally. But
his gaze remains fixed on the
spinning blades.

Despite her fear of pushing too
far, she gently takes his hand
in hers. "Does this feel okay?"
she asks. Plankton nods, his
movements becoming less erratic.
"Yes," he murmurs, his hand
still in the same wave pattern.

Karen decides to keep trying,
moving her thumb in small circles
on the back of his palm. Plankton's
breath hitches, and she sees his pupil
dilate slightly. "This?" she asks.
He nods, a faint smile tugging
at the corner of his lips.

Encouraged, she switches to
interlocking her fingers with
his, feeling the coldness of
his grip. "And this?"
"Good," he says, his voice
a bit softer.

Karen tries a gentle squeeze,
his hand stilling under hers.
"Does this feel okay?"
Plankton nods, his smile
widening a fraction.

Her heart racing with hope,
she presses her cheek to his.
"How about this?" she whispers.
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his body momentarily still.
"Not now," he says, his voice
a bit more present.

Karen nods, her eyes stinging
with tears. "Okay," she says,
trying not to let her voice
crack. She'll keep trying.

Her hand moves to his shoulder,
squeezing gently. "What about this?"
Plankton's body tenses, his
eye flicking to her hand, then
back to the fan. "No," he says,
his voice a firm rejection.

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving
his. "I'm sorry," she whispers.
"I just want to help."

Plankton's hand resumes its
wave-like motion. "Help," he repeats.
"Karen help."

Karen nods, her eyes never
leaving his. "I will," she promises,
determined to find a way to
connect with him. She decides to
try a different approach, one that
might bypass his sensory overload.

"Plankton," she says softly, "Can you tell
me what you're thinking about?"

He nods, his hand still moving. "Fan. Spin. Like."

Karen's chest tightens, but she nods.
"Okay, Plankton. Let's talk about the fan."

He nods eagerly, his hand
stopping for a brief moment.
"Fan," he says, his voice clearer.
"Spin fast. Like."

Karen takes a deep
breath. "What do you like
about the fan spinning?"
she asks, hoping to engage him
in a conversation that doesn't
trigger his anxiety.

Plankton's hand starts moving
again, mimicking the fan's
rotation. "Spin," he says, his
voice still monotone. "Fast. Calm."

Karen's eyes widen as she
understands. "It calms you?"
she asks, her voice tentative.
He nods, his gaze finally
leaving the fan to meet hers.

"Yes," he says, a hint of emotion
seeping into his voice. "Calm."

Karen's mind races. If the
fan's spinning is calming him,
maybe there's something here to
build on. "Can you tell me
more about the calm?"

Plankton nods, his hand
mimicking the fan's movement.
"Inside, quiet," he murmurs,
his voice a bit softer.

Karen's eyes fill with
relief. "It's like white noise,
isn't it?" she suggests,
desperate to build a bridge
between their worlds.

Plankton's hand slows, his
eye focusing on hers. "It's
like white noise isn't it.."

Karen nods, hope blossoming
in her chest. "Exactly,
sweetie. It's like it helps
you focus, like it blocks out
the chaos."

Plankton's hand stops moving,
his antennae drooping slightly.
"Chaos," he whispers, his eye
flicking around the room.

Karen nods, her heart aching.
"Yes, sometimes the world can
be too much, can't it?"

Plankton nods, his gaze
still unfocused. "Too 
much," he agrees.
"Spinning fan, less chaos."

Karen's eyes well up with tears
as she realizes the gravity of
the situation. "I'm sorry,"
she says, her voice trembling.
"I never meant for this to happen."

Plankton nods, his gaze still
unfocused. "Not Karen's fault,"
he says, his voice a robotic
reassurance. "Invention go boom."

Karen's eyes fill with
gratitude, clinging to the
knowledge that he understands.
"I know, but I can't help
feeling responsible," she says,
wiping at her cheeks.

Plankton nods, his hand
starting to wave again. "Fan spin.
Calm. Like Karen."

Karen's heart skips a beat
at the mention of her name.
Maybe, just maybe, he's still in
there somewhere. "You know,
sweetie," she says, her voice
quivering with hope, "sometimes
people have different ways
of seeing things. Like you and
the fan. That's your special way
of finding peace."

Plankton nods, his gaze
finally leaving the fan to focus
on her. "Special," he repeats.
"Plankton special."

Karen smiles through her
tears. "Yes, you are," she says,
squeezing his hand gently. "And we'll
figure this out together."

Plankton nods, his hand still
moving. "Together," he echoes.

new new reality Karen / Sheldon J. Plankton iv

NEW REALITY iii
(Autistic author)

"You know, Plankton," she starts,
trying to keep the conversation
going, "you've always been so
clever with your inventions. Maybe
this is just your brain working in
overdrive, processing everything
faster than ever before."

He nods, his eyes still glued
to the fan. "Fast," he agrees,
his hand moving in the same
repetitive motion. "Like fan."

Karen tries to keep her voice
even as she sits beside him.
"You're right," she says, smiling.
"It is fast."

Plankton's hand stops moving
for a moment, then resumes the
wave-like motion. "Fast," he
agrees, his eye never leaving
the fan's rotation.

Karen watches him, her mind racing.
Could it be that he's just really
focused on the fan? Maybe his
brain is working differently now,
focusing on details that she's
always missed. She tries to find
comfort in this explanation, but
the emptiness in his gaze
unsettles her. She reaches for his
arm, hoping to ground him, to bring
his attention back to her. But
his hand jerks away, his movements
quick and erratic.

"Plankton, honey, are you okay?"
she asks, her voice tight with worry.
His eye flicks to her for a brief
moment before returning to
the fan. "Karen," he says, his tone
flat and emotionless. "Water. Thanks."

He takes another sip, his hand
shaking slightly as he sets the
glass down. Karen's heart clenches,
wishing she could take his pain away.
Maybe he's just overwhelmed, she tells
herself. Maybe all this spinning is a
way for him to calm down, to make
sense of the world again.

"Plankton," she says softly, placing
a hand on his shoulder. "Look at me."
He does, his eye meeting hers with a
flicker of something she can't quite
place. "You know, you can tell me
anything."

He nods, his gaze flicking back
to the fan. "Tell Karen," he repeats,
his voice a monotone echo.

Karen's mind is racing, but
she keeps her tone calm. "Plankton,
sweetie, what do you mean?"

He points to the fan again. "Fan.
Spin. Like." His words come out
slowly, as if he's trying to piece
together a puzzle.

Karen nods, her heart racing. "Yes,
the fan spins. It's like when you
tell me your grand plans for the
Krabby Patty formula," she says, trying
to draw him back into their shared
world. But Plankton's eye doesn't
even flicker at the mention of his
lifelong obsession.

Instead, he starts to rock slightly,
his hand moving back and forth in
the same pattern. "Spin. Fan," he
mumbles, his voice a distant echo.

Karen tries to ignore the fear
creeping into her voice. "Plankton,
what's going on? Why are you
doing this?"

Plankton's hand stops moving
for a moment, then starts again.
"Fan," he murmurs. "Spin."

Karen's mind is racing, but she tries
to stay calm. "It's okay, Plankton,"
she says soothingly, her hand still
on his shoulder. "The fan is spinning.
It's a simple machine, doing what
it's meant to do."

He nods, his gaze still locked on
the fan's blades. "Spin. Yes." His
voice is flat. Karen
swallows hard, trying to find the right
words. Maybe if she can get him to
focus on something else, he'll snap out of
this strange behavior. "LOOK AT ME!" 
She grabs his wrists..
Startled, Plankton's eye darts to hers,
his pupil wide with shock. "Karen?"
he asks, his voice tinged with anger.
"Karen scaring Plankton." He says,
his eye welling up with tears as he
starts crying.

Karen's heart shatters, she didn't mean to
scare him, she just wanted to get through to
his old self. "I'm sorry," she whispers,
pulling him into a tight hug. "It's okay."

Plankton's sobs are muffled against
her chest, his body stiff and unyielding.
Her eyes fill with tears as she tries
to soothe him, rubbing his back in
small, gentle circles. "It's okay," she repeats,
desperation lacing her words. "You're okay."

He pulls away 
slightly, looking up
at her.

"Karen, sad," he
says, his voice still
flat. "Why Karen sad?"

Karen sniffs, wiping
away her tears. "I'm just...
worried about you."

Plankton's eye widens, his
expression unchanged. "Worry?"
he questions, as if tasting
the word.

Karen nods, her heart heavy.
"Yes, worry. It's when someone
cares about you and is concerned
about your well-being."

Plankton nods, but his gaze
slides back to the fan. "Fan spin,"
he says, his voice monotonous.

Karen sighs, trying to redirect
his focus. "Plankton, let's talk about
something else. Like, what do
you want to do today?"

He blinks, his hand still
waving. "Do today?" he echoes.
"Fan spin."

Karen's stomach drops.
Maybe he's just fixated on the fan,
but something in his voice sends
a shiver down her spine. "Plankton,"
she says softly, her hand still on
his back. "I know you're not feeling
like yourself right now, but can you
try to focus on me for one minute?"
"One minute, sixty seconds,"
Plankton murmurs, his hand
continuing its rhythmic dance.

"Yes, that's right," Karen encourages,
despite the sinking feeling in her chest.
"Can you tell me what you see?"
Plankton looks at her, his expression
still eerily blank. "See Karen," he says,
his voice devoid of warmth. "See bed. See wall."

Karen's eyes widen as realization hits her.
He's not just fixated on the fan; he's taking
everything she says literally. "Plankton,
I'm not sad about the fan spinning. I'm sad
because you're not acting like you."
He looks at her, then at the fan, then back at her.
"Fan spin," he repeats, his eye searching
hers for understanding.

"No, no, Plankton," she says, her voice
gentle but firm. "I'm sad because you're
not okay." She takes a deep breath.
"You're not you."

He nods, his hand still moving.
"Plankton okay," he insists. 
"Karen sad."

Karen's heart breaks a little more.
"I know you think you're okay,"
she says, her voice trembling.
"But you're acting differently,
sweetie. You're not the same."
She decided to scan his brain.
The brain scan results come back,
and Karen stares. There it is,
stark and clear: acquired Autism
It's not something they can reverse.

new new reality Karen the Computer iii

NEW REALITY vi
(Autistic author)

"Plankton," she starts,
her voice tentative.
"Can we try something?"
He nods, his eye
still searching.

Karen reaches over
to the bedside drawer,
pulling out a small,
soft blanket.
"This is called a weighted
blanket," she explains,
unfolding it gently.
"It's like a hug from me
without the pressure."

Plankton's gaze
flickers with curiosity.
He nods slowly, allowing
her to place it over
his body, his eye
closed as he feels the
comforting weight.
"It's good,"
he murmurs, his voice
a mix of wonder and
fatigue.

Karen's heart lifts,
a tiny victory in the
face of the unknown.
"It's like a hug,"
she says, smoothing
the blanket over him.
"It helps some people
feel safe and calm."

Plankton nods, his
body relaxing into
the embrace of the
weighted fabric.

Karen's eyes fill with
relief as she watches
his tension melt away.
"Does it feel better?"
she asks, her voice
gentle.

Plankton nods, his
eye still closed. "Calm,"
he whispers.

Encouraged, Karen pulls
the blanket tighter, mimicking
a gentle squeeze. "Good?"
she asks, her voice a soft
query.

Plankton nods, a smile
ghosting over his lips. "Good,"
he agrees, his voice a faint
whisper.

Karen's heart skips a beat.
"I'm here," she says, her voice
a soothing melody. "I'll always
be here to help you find
your calm."

Plankton nods, his eye
still shut. "Calm," he whispers,
his body sinking deeper into
the blanket's embrace.

Karen's eyes fill with tears
as she watches him. She's
found a way to connect, a way
to bring him comfort in a
world that's become too much
for him. The weight of
the blanket seems to anchor him,
still the storm in his mind.

"I'll get us through this,"
she whispers, her voice filled
with resolve. "We're a team."

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, a sign of his
agreement. "Team," he murmurs,
his breathing evening out
beneath the blanket.

Karen's eyes shine with
hope. "Yes, we're a team,"
she repeats, leaning down
to kiss his forehead.
"Now, try to get some sleep."

Plankton nods, his hand
reaching up to trace the
edge of the blanket. "Sleep,"
he murmurs.

Karen watches him for a
moment longer, then stands
slowly, not wanting to disturb
his fragile peace. She
moves to the door, her hand
on the knob. "I'll be right
outside if you need me,"
she says softly.

Plankton nods, his hand
still tracing the blanket.
"Karen," he whispers.

Her heart squeezes. "I know,"
she says, her voice a gentle
caress. "I'll be right here."

With one last look at him,
she steps into the hallway,
closing the door behind her.

The house feels eerie in
its quiet, the weight of
the silence pressing down.
Her thoughts race, her mind
a whirlwind of fears and
uncertainty. How do you
navigate a world that's
suddenly become so
overwhelming for someone
you love?

Karen leans against
the closed door, her eyes
brimming with tears. She
can't bear to leave him
alone, but he needs rest.
With a heavy sigh, she
forces herself to step away,
determined to give him
the space he needs to adjust.

new new reality Sheldon J. Plankton & Karen vi

NEW REALITY vii
(Autistic author)

She sleeps at her bed
next to his. The house is quiet,
except for the soft snores
coming from Plankton.

But both of their 
eyes snap open
at the sound of 
the doorbell.

Plankton's body tenses,
his hand shooting up to 
cover his head. Karen
moves quickly, her heart 
racing. She knows that 
sudden sounds can be
overwhelming for him.
"It's okay," she murmurs,
placing her hand over 
his. "Door," he says, his voice
still groggy from sleep.

Her eyes dart to the 
clock. It's early, much 
earlier than anyone would 
usually visit. "I'll go 
see who it is," she says, 
trying to keep her voice 
steady. "You stay here."

Plankton nods, his hand
dropping from his head
to clutch at the blanket.
"Stay," he whispers, his
voice tight with anxiety.

Karen's eyes fill with
concern. "I'll be right
back," she promises, her
voice soft. "Just stay here."

Plankton nods, his grip
on the blanket tightening.
"Stay," he repeats, his voice
less than a whisper.

Karen nods, her heart racing.
"I will," she whispers. "Just rest."

As she opens the door, she's
met with the cheerful face of
Hanna, her book club friend.
"Hey Karen, I hope I'm not too early!"
Hanna says, a word book in hand.

Karen's eyes widen, her heart
racing. "No, not at all," she says,
forcing a smile. "Come in."

Hanna steps into the house,
her eyes bright with excitement.
But as she sees Karen's 
expression, her smile falters.
"Is everything okay?" she asks,
concern etched on her face.

Karen nods, as Plankton
comes into the room, his gaze
fixed on the spinning fan.
"This is Plankton,"
Karen introduces, her voice
calm.

Hanna smiles. "Hi Plankton,"
she says, her voice too bright.

He nods, his gaze still
locked on the fan. "Fan spin,"
he murmurs.

Hanna's eyes widen, unsure
how to respond. Karen
quickly interjects. "Why
don't we take a look at the
work puzzle book.."

Plankton's gaze shifts, his
interest piqued by the
mention of books.

"Puzzles," he repeats,
his voice a bit clearer.

Hanna's smile relaxes,
seeing his interest. "Yes,
puzzles," she says, holding
up the book. "They're like
fun little brain teasers."

Plankton nods, his hand
reaching out to touch the
book. Karen watches, her
heart racing. Will this
be another trigger?

But Plankton's gaze locks onto
the puzzle book, his eye
lighting up with curiosity.

Karen's heart skips a beat.
This could be good for him,
a way to focus his
whirling thoughts.

Hanna opens the book,
showing him a simple word search.
"See if you can find
the hidden words, Plankton,"
she says, her voice gentle.

His gaze scans the page,
his hand moving in time
with his eye. "Words," he murmurs,
his voice filled with excitement.

Hanna nods, her smile growing.
"That's right," she says, her
tone encouraging. "See if
you can find them all."

Plankton nods, his eye
quickly moving over the
page. Karen watches,
her heart swelling with hope.
This might be it, she thinks,
a new way to connect.

Hanna points to a word,
her voice soothing. "What's this?"

Plankton's hand moves over
the letters, tracing them.
"F-A-N," he reads, his
tone monotone. "Fan," he says,
his gaze flicking up to the
whirring object above.

Hanna laughs, misunderstanding.
"No, Plankton, not fan," she says,
pointing to the puzzle. "Find
the words that are hidden."

But Plankton's gaze remains on
the spinning blades. "Fan," he repeats,
his voice taking on a firm tone.

Hanna's smile falters, not
comprehending his 
meaning. "No, Plankton,"
she says, her voice still cheerful.
"Look at the puzzle."

But Plankton's gaze
doesn't waver from the fan.
"Fan," he says, his tone
firm, almost defensive.

Hanna's smile falters,
her cheerfulness waning.
"Plankton," she says gently,
"it's a puzzle, not about
the fan."

But Plankton's gaze remains
fixed on the fan, his
body tensing. "Fan," he repeats,
his voice firm, almost
defensive.

Hanna's smile falters,
uncertain of his meaning.
"It's just a puzzle, Plankton,"
she says gently, her voice
filled with misunderstanding.

But Plankton's tone sharpens.
"Fan," he insists, his voice
raised, his body tense.
"Fan spin, make quiet."

Hanna's eyes widen with
surprise, her smile slipping
away. "It's not about the
fan, Plankton," she says,
her voice still kind but
concerned. "It's about..."

But Plankton's voice cuts
through the air, his tone
sharp. "Fan spin," he says,
his hand moving in
erratic patterns. "Fan make
quiet. Fan important."

Hanna's eyes widen,
taking a step back. "I didn't
mean..." she starts, but
Plankton's agitation is
growing.

"Fan important," he repeats,
his voice echoing in the quiet
room. Karen's heart races as
she tries to defuse the
situation.

"Hanna, it's okay," she says,
her voice calm but firm.
"The fan is special to Plankton.
It helps him feel calm."

But Hanna's confusion
only grows. "It's just a fan,
right?" she asks, her voice
pitching with uncertainty.

Plankton's voice rises, his
hands flailing. "No!" he yells.
"Fan special! Make quiet!
Must spin!"

Hanna's eyes widen with shock,
her cheerful demeanor evaporating.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know,"
she stammers, taking a step back.

Plankton's voice echoes,
his frustration palpable.
"Fan special!" he yells,
his hands slashing the air.

Hanna's smile has disappeared,
replaced by a look of fear.
"I'm sorry," she whispers,
backing away slowly.

Karen's eyes are wide
with worry. She steps
between Hanna and Plankton,
trying to shield her friend
from his distress. "It's okay,
Hanna," she says, her voice
calm but firm. "Let's just
give him some space."

Hanna nods, her eyes
filled with apology.
"I didn't mean to upset him,"
she murmurs, setting the
puzzle book down on the
coffee table.

Karen nods, her gaze
on Plankton. "It's okay,"
she says softly. "He's just
overwhelmed."

Plankton's hands flap like
wings against his sides.
This is stimming, she knows,
his way of coping with
the sensory onslaught.

He rocks back and forth,
his gaze still on the fan.
Karen's heart aches as she
watches him, his body a
whirlwind of energy.

"Fan spin," he murmurs,
his hands fluttering like
butterfly wings. "Spin, spin."

Karen's eyes follow
his erratic movements,
her heart racing.

"Plankton," she says, her voice
calm and soothing. "Look at me."
He doesn't react, his gaze
still glued to the fan.

Karen approaches him,
moving slowly to avoid startling
his heightened senses. "Plankton,"
she repeats, her tone steady.

He doesn't react, his eye
still on the fan, his body
a flurry of movement.
Her heart racing, Karen tries again.
"The fan spins," she says, mimicking
his rhythmic speech.

Plankton's gaze flicks to her,
his body still. For a moment,
his movements cease.
"Spin," he whispers, his eye
searching hers.

Karen nods, understanding
his need for the fan's rhythmic
whirl. "It's okay," she says,
her voice a gentle melody.
"The fan will spin."

Plankton's gaze shifts
from the fan to the digital clock
on the mantle. His eye widens
as he sees the seconds tick by,
restarting each minute.
The numbers, stark and
precise, seem to call to him,
a silent symphony of order
in a world gone haywire.

Hanna looks confused, for
Plankton's gaze shifts to the
digital clock, the seconds
ticking away in a silent
symphony. His hands stop
their erratic movements, his
body stilling as he watches
the precise dance of the
numbers.

Karen sees his fascination,
the way his eye tracks
each second as it passes.
"It's okay," she says softly.
"The clock will keep going."

But Plankton's gaze doesn't
shift. His body is still,
his mind lost in the rhythm
of the ticking digits.

Karen watches, her heart
racing. She's read about
how some with autism
find comfort in patterns,
how the predictability
of something as simple
as a digital clock
can be a lifeline in a
world that's otherwise
so chaotic.

Hanna, however, 
doesn't understand.
Her eyes go to Plankton, her
confusion growing.

"Plankton," she says, her voice
still too bright, "it's just a clock."

His eye snaps to her, his
body rigid with tension. "Clock
important," he murmurs, his voice
a mix of anger and fear. "Numbers
change."

Hanna's smile fades, her eyes
widening with confusion. "It's
just a clock, Plankton," she says,
trying to placate him. But her
words only serve to stir his
distress further.

Plankton's eye darts from the
clock to Hanna, his breath
coming in quick bursts. "No,"
he whispers, his voice tight.
"Clock important. Numbers change."

Hanna's smile is gone, her
expression one of confusion.
"It's just a way to tell time,"
she says, her voice shaking.
But Plankton's agitation is
building, a storm gathering
behind his eye.

"No," he whispers, his hand
trembling as it points to
the clock. "Numbers change,
make brain quiet."

Hanna's eyes widen, her
understanding still elusive.
"But Plankton," she starts,
"it's just a way to keep track
of time."

But Plankton's gaze is
intense, his voice urgent.
"No, no, no," he says, shaking
his head. "Numbers change,
make brain quiet."

Hanna's voice rises, her
confusion thick. "But it's
just a clock, Plankton,"
she repeats, her words
falling on deaf antennae.

Plankton's body is tight
as a spring, his gaze
locked on the digital
dance. "No," he whispers,
his voice strained. "Numbers
make quiet, chronologically."

Hanna's eyes dart between
Plankton and Karen, her
confusion thick. 

new new reality hannacore vii

NEW REALITY ii
(Autistic author)

He points to the fan again, his
finger trembling slightly. "Fan. Spin."
The words come out in a staccato
rhythm, each syllable a separate entity.
"It's okay," she tells him, her voice
shaky.

Karen tries to distract him, pointing
to various items around the room.
"Look, Plankton, that's our picture
from our wedding day." She shows
him the small, framed photograph
on the nightstand. His eye flits to it
for a second, then back to the fan.
"Picture. 31 July 1999," he says, but
his voice lacks emotion, as if he's
simply reciting words from a dictionary.

"Do you remember the day?"
she asks, her voice hopeful. He nods,
his gaze still glued to the spinning
blades. "Wedding. Married to Karen.
Happy day." The words come out like
a rehearsed script, and the joy that
should have filled his voice is painfully 
absent.

Karen's heart aches. This isn't the
Plankton she knows, the one who
would tease her mercilessly or
whisper sweet nothings when no one
was around. This is a stranger,
trapped in a body that's only
familiar because of the memories
it holds. She decides to keep talking,
hoping that something will spark a
memory, a connection.

"Plankton," she says, her voice
gentle but firm, "I noticed you're
interested in the fan.."

"Fan," he repeats, nodding
his head slightly, his gaze
unwavering. "Spinning. Fast."

Karen tries to hide her
concern. "Do you like it?"
she asks, her voice a careful
balance of casual and hopeful.

"Like?" Plankton echoes, his
eye still transfixed by the fan.
He seems to think for a moment,
then nods. "Yes. Like. Spinning."

Karen tries to smile, but it
feels forced. "Okay," she says,
swiping at a tear that escapes.
"Let's talk about something else."

Plankton's gaze finally breaks
from the fan and lands on her,
his expression unreadable. 
"Else," he repeats, as if trying
to grasp the concept of something
other than the fan. Karen's mind races,
desperately searching for a topic
that might draw him out of his
fugue.

"Remember SpongeBob?" she asks,
thinking of their shared friend
and his successful rival. Plankton's
face twitches, a glimmer of something
resembling recognition flickering
across his features. "SpongeBob,"
he murmurs, his eye focusing on
a spot just over her shoulder.

"Yes," Karen encourages, feeling
a flicker of hope. "You two are
always trying to outdo each other."
But Plankton doesn't react. Instead,
his hands start to wave slightly,
a rhythmic movement that seems
to soothe him. Karen's heart sinks.

"What are you doing?" she asks,
trying to keep the worry from
creeping into her tone.

Plankton's antennae twitch as
he continues to move his hands.

"It's okay," Karen says, her voice
soft and comforting. "You're just
a bit out of it. You'll be okay."

But Plankton doesn't respond.
His hands keep moving in the same
pattern, his eye on the wall. Karen's
stomach churns. This isn't just
dizziness. This is something else.

Panic starts to set in as
Karen realizes she might not
have her husband back. "Plankton,"
she says, her voice trembling. "Look 
at me."

Slowly, his eye shifts from
the wall to her face, and for a
moment, she sees a flicker of the
man she loves. "Karen," he says,
his voice a bit more present, but
his movements still erratic. She
can't ignore the fear that's
building in her chest.

"What happened to you?" she
whispers, her voice thick with
unshed tears.

Plankton's hand stops
mid-wave. "What Karen meant?"
he asks, his tone devoid of any
understanding.

Karen's throat tightens. "It's
just... you're acting a little
different, that's all," she says,
desperately trying to keep her
voice calm.

Plankton's movements become
more erratic, his hands flapping
in an unnerving rhythm. "Different?"
he repeats, his eye darting
around the room. "No, Plankton."

Karen tries to calm him down,
her heart racing as she searches
for a way to explain without
upsetting him. "I just meant,
you're not quite yourself today."

Plankton's movements slow, his
hands stilling in his lap. "Self?"
he questions, his voice a mix
of confusion and curiosity.
"Plankton self, Karen."

Karen nods, trying to keep
the conversation flowing. "Yes,
yourself. You know, your personality,
your... your quirks." She tries to
laugh, but it comes out forced.

Plankton's eye narrows, his
expression unreadable. "Quirks?"
he repeats. "Plankton has quirks.."

Karen nods, her smile strained.
"Everyone does, honey. It's what
makes us who we are."

Plankton seems to ponder
this, his hand resuming its
wave-like motion.

"Plankton, self," he murmurs,
his gaze returning to the fan.
"Spin. Fast. Like."

Karen watches him, her heart
heavy with unshed tears. She doesn't
know what to make of his behavior.
Could he really be okay? Maybe
this is just a phase, a side effect
of the explosion. She clings to the
thought like a lifeline, not ready to
face any alternative.

"Let's get you some water," she says,
forcing a smile. Plankton nods, his
eye still on the fan. As she moves
to the kitchen, she tries to convince
herself that he'll be fine, that this
is just a temporary setback. But the
way he's acting, so detached and
disconnected, it's not like him at all.

The kitchen is a blur as she
fills a glass with water, her mind racing
with questions. What do they do now?
How do they get through this? She
carries the water back to the
bedroom, her hand shaking slightly.
Plankton hasn't moved, still staring
at the fan. She sets the glass on
the nightstand, his eye never
leaving the spinning blades.

"Here you go," she says, offering
the water with a trembling smile.
He takes it, his movements precise
but mechanical, and brings it to his
mouth. As he drinks, Karen watches
his every move, looking for any
sign of the man she loves beneath
the surface of this new, strange
behavior. "Thanks," he says, his voice
devoid of its usual sass. He sets
the glass down, his gaze returning
to the fan. Karen tries focusing
instead on the way the light
dances off the beads of water
on his antennae.

new new reality Karen (SpongeBob) ii

NEW REALITY viii
(Autistic author)

"I don't
understand," she says, her voice
filled with distress.

Plankton's hand clenches, his
body vibrating with tension.
"Numbers," he repeats, his voice
edging on a scream. "They
make quiet."

Hanna's eyes widen, her smile
fading to a look of horror.
"But Plankton," she says, her voice
shaking, "it's just a clock."

But her words are like fuel
on the fire of his distress.
He steps closer to the clock,
his hand outstretched as if
to will it to silence. "Numbers,"
he whispers, his voice a
plea. "They make quiet."

Hanna's eyes fill with
sympathy, but her words only
worsen his agitation. "Plankton,
it's just a clock," she says,
reaching out to touch him.

Karen's heart hammers in
her chest as she sees his
body tense even further.
"Hanna, don't," she warns, her
voice tight. "Please don't touch
him right now."

But Hanna doesn't hear her,
her own voice rising with
frustration. "It's just a clock,
Plankton," she repeats, her hand
covering his shoulder. "Nothing's
going to hurt you.."

The touch sends him spiraling,
his body convulsing with
overstimulation. "No touch!"
he screams, his hand slapping
at her arm, his face a mask of
fear and anger.

But Plankton's outburst has
ignited something in Hanna,
a spark of anger.

"Why can't you just be normal?"
she snaps, her voice echoing
through the tense room.

Karen's heart breaks as
Plankton's eye goes wide, his
body jerking away from her.
"Hanna, please," she says,
her voice tight with pain.

But Hanna's words keep coming,
a barrage of misunderstanding.
"You can't just ignore us,"
she says, her voice rising. "You have
to interact with the world."

Plankton's body recoils, his
skin seemingly vibrating with each
of her words. "Interact," he echoes,
his voice strained.

Karen's heart is in her throat.
"Hanna, please," she says, her
voice tight with pain. "You're
not helping."

But Hanna's eyes are
glassy with frustration. "How
can I help if he won't even
look at me?" she asks,
ignoring the desperation in
Plankton's gaze as she holds
his arms tightly.

Karen's eyes plead with her,
but Hanna's grip doesn't loosen.
"Let go," Plankton whimpers,
his voice tight with tension.

Hanna's smile is forced,
her grip unyielding. "Look at me,
Plankton," she says, her voice
laced with irritation. "You can't
just..."

But her words cut him like
knives. "Look
away," he murmurs, his voice
strained, his body begging for
the pressure to ease.

Hanna's smile falters, her
grip tightening. "Why can't
you just look at me?" she asks,
her voice edged with annoyance.

Plankton's breath hitches,
his antennae drooping. "Can't," he
whispers, his gaze flickering
between her and Karen.

Hanna's eyes narrow, her
grip on his arms tightening.
"You can," she insists, her
voice firm. "Just..."

But Plankton's whimpers
grow louder, his body
shaking with the effort
to pull away.

Hanna's smile fades, her
grip tightening in frustration.
"Why can't you just be like
everyone else?" she asks, her
tone no longer gentle.

Plankton's whimpers become
sobs, his body shaking with
the effort to break free.
Karen's eyes are wet with
unshed tears as she watches
the scene unfold, her heart
breaking for him.

Hanna's grip remains firm,
her expression a mix of
confusion and annoyance.
"Why are you doing this?"
she demands, her voice
sharp. "You're just being
difficult."

Plankton's sobs grow more
desperate, his body
twisting in her grasp.
"Let go," he whispers, his voice
a strained plea.

Hanna's eyes flash with
irritation. "Why ca--"

Her words are cut off by
Karen's firm voice. "Hanna,
please," she says, stepping
between them. "You're
upsetting him."

But Hanna's confusion turns
to anger. "How can I not
be upset?" she retorts, her
grip on Plankton's arms
tightening. "He won't even..."

Her words are cut off by
Karen's firm voice. "Please,
Hanna," she says, her eyes
pleading. "You don't
understand."

Suddenly, Plankton's legs
buckle, his body going slack
as Hanna finally releases
his arms. He crumples to
the floor. He's retreating, Karen
realizes, her heart racing.
He's retreating into himself.

Karen's eyes fill with
fear as she watches him, his
sobs subsiding into quiet
whimpers. "Plankton," she
whispers, her voice a prayer.

Hanna's face falls, her anger
replaced with shock. "What's
wrong with him?" she asks,
her voice trembling.

Karen's eyes are wet with
unshed tears as she crouches
beside him. "It's a condition,"
she says, her voice tight with
frustration. "He needs time
and space to process everything."

Hanna's face crumples, her
hands going to her mouth.
"I didn't know," she whispers,
her eyes wide with regret.
"I'm sorry."

Karen nods, her gaze never
leaving Plankton's huddled
form. "It's not your fault,"
she says, her voice thick with
emotion. "But we all have
to learn."

Hanna nods, her eyes
brimming with tears.

Karen wraps her arms
around Plankton, her
touch gentle. "It's okay,"
she murmurs. "I'm here."
He trembles against her,
sobbing.

Hanna stands there,
apology etched in every
line of her face. "What can
I do?" she whispers.

Karen looks up, her eyes
wet. "Just give us a moment,"
she says, her voice a gentle
command.

Hanna nods, backing away
slowly, her eyes on Plankton.
"Okay," she murmurs, the weight
of her words heavy in the
silent room.

Karen holds Plankton tightly,
his body a trembling mass
of emotion. "It's okay,"
she whispers, her voice a
soothing balm. "You're safe."

He nests his head into
her shoulder, his whimpers
softening to quiet sobs.
The room feels thick with
their shared pain, the air
charged with the tension
of misunderstanding.

Hanna's eyes dart around,
looking for anything that might
soothe him.

Karen's gaze meets hers,
a silent plea for understanding.

"It's called autism," Karen says softly,
her voice a gentle explanation.

Hanna's eyes widen, her face
a canvas of realization. "Oh," she
whispers, the word a soft
exhalation of breath.

Karen nods, her gaze never
leaving Plankton's tear-stained
face. "It's a spectrum,"
she says, her voice calm and
steady. "And he's on a part
of it that's very sensitive to
stimulation."

Hanna nods slowly, her
understanding growing. "I'm
sorry," she says, her voice
full of regret. "I didn't know."

Karen's grip tightens around
Plankton's shoulders. "It's okay,"
she murmurs. "We're all still
learning."

Hanna nods, her eyes never
leaving Plankton's trembling
form. "I'll go," she says, her voice
small. "I didn't mean..."

Karen nods, her gaze
steady. "Thank you," she whispers.
"We can talk soon."

Hanna nods, her eyes filled
with sadness. "Of course," she says,
turning to leave.

The door clicks shut behind her,
leaving Karen and Plankton in the
heavy silence. Karen's arms
remain around him, her body
a protective cocoon against
the harshness of the world.

Plankton's sobs slowly
ease into quiet sniffs, his body
still trembling in her embrace.
Her heart aches for the pain
he's feeling, the fear that
Hanna's misunderstanding
has brought to the surface.

"I'm sorry," she whispers
to him, her voice
shaking.

Plankton's trembles begin
to subside, his breathing
evening out. He pulls back,
his eye searching hers. "No,"
he murmurs, his voice hoarse
from crying. "Not at fault."

Karen's eyes fill with
relief, her grip on him
loosening slightly. "It's
okay," she says, her voice
a gentle caress. "We just need
to find ways to help you."

Plankton nods, his eye
fluttering shut.

Karen's mind races with
thoughts of what more she
can do, what she can say
to make him feel safe.

"We'll get through this,"
she says, her voice a promise.
"Together."

Plankton's eye opens,
his gaze meeting hers.
"Together," he echoes, his
voice a whisper.

Karen's heart swells with
love for him, her eyes
shimmering with determination.
"We'll find what works,"
she says, her voice firm.

Plankton nods, his gaze
dropping to the floor.
"Thanks," he murmurs, his
voice barely audible. "Tired.."

Karen's heart breaks at the
exhaustion etched into his
features. "I got you, you
can rest," she says, her
voice a gentle whisper.

They move to the couch,
Plankton's body curling into
her side. She wraps the
weighted blanket around him,
still within their embrace.

His breathing slows, his body
relaxing against hers. The
whirring fan above offers
a steady rhythm, a lullaby for
his troubled mind.

Karen's hand strokes his
back in gentle circles, her
thumb tracing patterns that
seem to soothe his nerves.

The fan's steady whir
fills the room, a calming
symphony that lulls Plankton's
racing thoughts to a crawl.

Karen's thumb moves in
soothing circles on his back,
each pass sending a ripple
of comfort through him.

Plankton's breathing evens,
his body slack against hers.
The fan's steady hum is a
lullaby in the quiet room,
a metronome for his racing
thoughts.

Karen's hand continues its
soothing dance across his back,
his eye finally closing.

The room is a cocoon of
silence, the fan's whisper the
only sound breaking the stillness.

Plankton's breathing slows,
his body melts into Karen's embrace.
Her hand continues its gentle
caress, a metronome of comfort as
he finally surrenders to sleep.

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

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⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀jai free fire ☠️☠️☠️
                                   
                                    Pubg 🤢

new p tebahpla nital w v b o epyt doolb tebahpla namor pkp tra tod tra txet tra iicsa

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

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM v

(Autistic author)

SpongeBob picks up his cards 
and looks for any 
twos. "Got any twos?"
he asks, trying to 
keep the peace.

But Plankton's focus 
has shifted, his 
eye no longer on the 
game. "Fish," he says 
again, his voice 
desperate.
Sponge Bob's patience 
snaps like a dry 
twig. "Plankton, enough 
with the fish!" he 
exclaims, tossing his cards 
down onto the floor. 
The sudden movement 
startles Plankton, and 
his antennas retract 
slightly.
"What's wrong with 
you!" Sponge Bob asks, 
his voice shaking with 
frustration. "You're not 
the same, Plankton."
Plankton's antennas 
wobble, and his 
eye darts around the 
room, unable to 
meet Sponge Bob's gaze. 
"Fish," he whispers, his 
voice lost.

SpongeBob's frustration was 
palpable in the tense air of the 
Chum Bucket, his eyes wide with 
confusion. He had always known 
Plankton to be a master of 
manipulation and cunning wit, so 
seeing him in such a repetitive state 
was unsettling. He didn't understand 
why his friend's world had narrowed 
down to a simple game of Go Fish 
and the repeated question for more 
of the same card.

"Plankton, I don't get it," Sponge 
 said, his voice tight with the 
effort to stay calm. "What's 
with all the fish?"

Plankton's antennas 
drooped further, his 
eye cast downward. "Fish," he 
mumbles again, his voice 
deflated. "Need more fish."

Sponge Bob's mind races to 
understand the change 
in Plankton's behavior.

He's known Plankton for so 
long, they've had countless 
battles over the Krabby Patty 
formula, but this, this is 
different. The way Plankton's 
voice echoes his own words, 
how he can't seem to let 
go of the word "fish," it's 
almost as if he's a different 
person entirely.

"Plankton, please," Sponge 
Bob pleads, his voice 
cracking. "Why do you 
keep saying that?"

Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly, his 
expression a mix of 
confusion and sadness. 
"Fish," he repeats, his 
voice a mere whisper. 
"Need fish."
"I told you Plankton," Sponge 
Bob says, his voice strained 
with patience, "I don't have 
any more twos, so I can't give 
you any fish."
Plankton's antennas droop, 
his eye sad. "No fish," he 
whispers.
Sponge Bob's at his wit's end. 
"Look, Plankton," he says, 
his voice firm.
"This isn't fun anymore. 
Why do you keep asking for 
fish when I don't have any?"
Plankton's antennas shoot 
up again, his eye 
widening in surprise. 
"Fish?" he asks, as if 
the concept has just 
been introduced.

Sponge Bob's patience 
snaps like a rubber band. 
"Yes, fish!" he yells, 
his spongy body trembling 
with frustration. 
"But I don't have any!"

Plankton flinches at the 
loudness of Sponge Bob's 
voice, his antennas 
retreating into his body. 
"Fish?" he whispers, his 
eye wide with fear.
Sponge Bob's frustration remains. 
"Why do you keep asking 
for fish?" he asks.
"What's happening to 
you, Plankton?"
Plankton's antennas 
twitch erratically, his 
expression a mix of 
pain and confusion. 
"Don't know what's
happening to you
Plankton." Plankton
says.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill 
with tears, his voice 
shaking. "I just want 
my friend back," he 
whispers. "I don't know 
what happened to you."
Plankton's antennas 
drop, his eye filling with 
sorrow. "Friend," he 
repeats, his voice 
small. "Sponge Bob friend."
Yet Sponge Bob doesn't 
understand. He only sees 
his friend acting strange 
and distant, and he can't
stay calm anymore.

"Why can't you just be 
normal!" Sponge Bob 
exclaims, his voice 
shaking with emotion. 
Plankton's antennas 
tremble, and his 
eye fills with 
uncertainty. "Fish?" he 
whispers, his voice 
shaking.

But SpongeBob's frustration 
was only growing.

"I can't do this," he says, 
his voice shaky. "You're not 
my friend like this, Plankton.
I don't know what happened to 
you, but I need you to snap 
out of it!"

Plankton's antennas 
wilt at Sponge Bob's anger, 
his eye filling with a 
sorrow that seems to 
mirror Sponge Bob's own.
"Fish," he whispers, his 
voice trembling. "Need fish."

Sponge Bob's heart 
aches as he watches his 
friend's distress. He's 
so tired of the echoing 
words, the endless loop 
of "fish." 

With a sigh, Sponge 
Bob gathers the 
scattered cards, 
his movements 
deliberate and 
careful. "I'm sorry," he 
says, his voice 
gentler now. "But we can't 
keep playing this way."

Plankton's antennas 
droop as he watches 
Sponge Bob clean up. "Fish?"
he asks, his voice 
small and hopeful.

Sponge Bob turns, his 
face a mask of anger and 
hurt. "No, Plankton," he 
says firmly. "We're not 
playing anymore; I'm tired
of it!"

Plankton's antennas 
wobble at the harshness 
of Sponge Bob's tone. "No 
fish?" he asks, his voice 
small and trembling. 
Sponge Bob cannot hold
back anymore, as his 
frustration won't let 
up.

"Plankton," he says, 
his voice tight with 
emotion, "I don't have 
any more fish! Can't you 
understand that?"

Plankton's antennas 
quiver, his eye 
welling up with tears. 
"Fish," he whispers, 
his voice shaking.

That's the last straw.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill with 
tears of anger and 
frustration. He's had 
enough of Plankton's 
strange behavior, his 
incessant echoing of words. 
"You're not listening!" 
he yells, slamming the 
cards down on the floor. 
"I don't have any more fish
Plankton, so just stop it!"

Plankton's antennas 
shiver at the harshness 
of Sponge Bob's words, his 
body shrinking under the 
weight of the accusation. 
"Fish?" he asks again, 
his voice cracking.
Sponge Bob's fists clench, 
his knuckles turning 
white. "No more fish!" 
he says, his voice 
shaking with anger. 
"I've had enough of you
and your fish!"

Plankton stops but
Sponge Bob's anger still burns 
bright. He doesn't know 
what's happening to 
Plankton, but he can't 
tolerate this strange 
behavior any longer.

"What's wrong with 
you?" Sponge Bob yells, 
his eyes wide with 
desperation. "Why 
can't you just play 
normally, huh? How
hard is it to just ask 
for a card without 
all the fish nonsense?
I didn't come here to 
play your weird games!"
Plankton's antennas 
quiver, his eye 
swelling with unshed 
tears. "Fish," he whispers, 
his voice barely audible.

Sponge Bob's anger 
continues to build, 
his frustration 
spilling over like 
boiling water. "You're 
not even trying!" he 
accuses, his voice 
rising. "What happened 
to you, Plankton?"
Plankton's antennas 
droop, his body 
slumping. "Fish," he 
mumbles, his voice 
broken.

Sponge Bob's eyes 
fill with tears, his 
heart aching for his 
friend. "I don't 
understand," he says, his 
voice cracking. "What's 
wrong with you?"
Plankton's antennas 
barely move, his 
expression a mask of 
sorrow. "Fish," he whispers, 
his eye searching 
Sponge Bob's.

Sponge Bob's anger 
grows, his voice 
raised. "You're just 
saying the same 
thing over and over! 
Why can't you talk to me 
normally?"
Plankton's antennas 
flatten against his 
head, his eye 
welling up with tears. 
"Fish," he says again, 
his voice shaking.

Sponge Bob's fists 
clench tighter, his 
knuckles white with 
frustration. "I don't 
know what's going on 
with you," he says, 
his voice thick with 
emotion. "But this isn't 
how we talk to each 
other. We're friends!"
Plankton's antennas 
barely twitch, his 
expression lost. "Fish," 
he whispers, his voice 
desolate.

Sponge Bob's anger 
reaches its peak, his 
eyes flashing. "I don't 
have any fish!" he yells, 
his spongy body 
quivering with rage. 
"Why can't you just 
talk to me?"
Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly, his eye 
wet with unshed tears. 
"Fish," he murmurs, 
his voice a plea.
Sponge Bob feels like 
his patience has been 
stretched to its 
breaking point. "I can't 
do this," he says, his voice 
shaking with the effort to 
control his emotions.
He turns away, his 
back to Plankton. "We're 
not playing anymore," he 
declares. "We're not playing 
anything until you start 
making sense! So you can
either stop acting weird 
and talk to me like a normal 
being or, I'm leaving!" He
kicks the cards, and then
Karen decides to intervene.

Her voice is firm but 
kind. "Sponge Bob," she says, 
placing a hand on his 
shoulder. "Plankton's not 
doing this on purpose. 
Plankton can I tell Sponge
Bob?"

Plankton nods slowly, his 
eye never leaving Sponge 
Bob's back.

"Sponge Bob," Karen 
continues, her voice 
soothing, "Plankton had a
bad accident, and..."

Her words hang in the 
air, but Sponge Bob 
doesn't turn around. "What?"
he asks, his voice 
small and defeated.

Karen's voice is soft but 
steady. "Plankton hit his 
head and it affected 
his brain," she 
explains. "He has 
something called Autism 
now."
Sponge Bob turns, his 
eyes wide with shock. "What's 
that?" he asks, his 
voice trembling.
"It's a condition," Karen 
says gently, her gaze 
meeting Sponge Bob's. "It 
makes it hard for him 
to understand certain things, 
like how to play games 
without getting stuck 
on one word." She gestures
to Plankton, who's shedding
tears rolling down his cheeks.

Sponge Bob's anger 
evaporates, replaced by 
sympathy. "Oh, Plankton," 
he says, his voice 
full of sadness. He 
steps towards his friend, 
his hand reaching out. 
"I'm sorry, I didn't know."
Plankton's antennas 
wobble as he looks 
up at Sponge Bob, his 
single eye brimming with 
tears. "I'm 
sorry," he says again, his 
voice thick with emotion.
"I didn't mean to get 
so mad."

Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly, his eye 
meeting Sponge Bob's with 
gratitude. "Fish," he 
whispers, but it's not a 
demand this time. It's 
more of a statement of 
understanding.

new a journey to autism fishcore auties v

"This needs to be
 an app!!" It is guys it has 
an app>:D

new e a o s c z w h k r n j l g f v xi u mu abc qoph gimel zayin in which bio q b p at by for along into to during with since from the letter

𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓪

new v a l alphabet

"૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა( • ᴗ - ) ✧󠁁😉

new v act playact

c°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°˖☾.⋆𖤓｡˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚꩜⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

new v mu es

M˃̵ᴗ˂̵❌

new v distance english alphabet wingspread

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄⠄⠠⠀⠂⠂⠄⠄⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠂⠁⠀⣠⠤⠤⠤⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠂⠀⠀⢰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠄⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⡀⡁⠀⠢⣀⣀⣠⣇⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡁⠀⢠⠊⠉⠈⠙⢌⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⢏⣩⣤⢧⠹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⡀⢇⠀⠀⠀⢰⢉⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠤⠴⢯⡊⠡⠕⣧⡀⠀⣰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠎⠂⢓⠄⡠⠂⢉⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠈⢿⠷⣍⢋⠩⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢃⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⢠⡃⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣁⡀⠐⠃⡠⠼⠠⠄⣀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡇⠀⠀⠈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠑⠐⠀⠁⠠⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢴⢃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢡⢃⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠗⠁⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠒⢤⡀⢆⣙⡆⣀⠤⠖⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠁⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⢸⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠤⠃⠀⠀⠰⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠡⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢀⡶⠳⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠀⠉⠢⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⡆⠀⠀
⠀⠀⡎⢂⠀⠘⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢷⠀⠀⡐⠉⢀⡍⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢨⠐⡄⠀⢣⢠⢆⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠅⢸⡀⡨⠁⡐⠁⡀⠞⡇⠀⠀⢠⠪⠤⠀⡄
⣀⡀⡀⠣⡼⡄⠀⠣⣍⡉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠔⢁⢀⡆⡇⣇⠁⢀⠆⣁⢖⣧⣤⣪⠅⣄⡲⠇⠀
⠀⠀⠡⡬⠽⢿⠽⣞⢃⢈⠍⢉⠒⣚⡭⢭⠅⠠⠦⠧⠄⡆⠹⡧⠊⢀⠼⠗⡏⠨⠈⠈⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠂⠀⠘⠘⠐⠁⠐⠐⠚⠛⠉⠈⠂⠂⠘⠛⠙⠚⠛⠚⠉⠀⠁⠈⠁⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀

new v roman alphabet vore girl dot art text art ascii art

      𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
     ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

new v z greek alphabet

:3
>ᴗ<-`♡´-( ‘• ω • `)(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)°❀.ೃ࿔*.° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ🥟✝️🥟🥟🥟🥟🥟

new heth greek alphabet v cute

😈⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆𓆩𓆪ffﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

new derive converge v proceeds fl descend

here is the school song (matilda the musical) but in Thai (translated on Google translate): 
เฮ้ย! เด็กใหม่เหรอ?
แล้วคุณคิดว่าคุณสามารถ
เอาชีวิตรอดจากความยุ่งเหยิงนี้ได้โดยเป็นเจ้าชายหรือเจ้าหญิง
ไม่นานคุณก็จะเห็น
ไม่มีทางหนีจากโศกนาฏกรรมได้
และแม้ว่า
คุณจะทุ่มเทความพยายามอย่างหนัก
คุณก็กำลังเสียพลังงานไปโดยเปล่าประโยชน์
เพราะชีวิตของคุณที่คุณรู้จักคือประวัติศาสตร์โบราณ
ฉันทนทุกข์ทรมานในคุกแห่งนี้
ฉันติดอยู่ในกรงนี้มาเป็นเวลานาน
นรกบนดินแห่งนี้!
แต่ถ้าฉันพยายาม ฉันจะจำได้
ย้อนกลับไปก่อนที่ชีวิตของฉันจะสิ้นสุดลง
ก่อนที่วันแห่งความสุขของฉันจะสิ้นสุดลง
ก่อนที่ฉันจะได้ยินเสียงระฆังดังเป็นครั้งแรก
เช่นเดียวกับคุณ ฉันอยากรู้อยากเห็น
ไร้เดียงสามาก ฉันถามคำถามนับพันคำถาม
แต่เว้นแต่คุณต้องการทนทุกข์ทรมาน
ฟังนะ แล้วฉันจะสอนคุณ
สิ่งหนึ่งหรือสองสิ่ง
คุณฟังที่นี่ ที่รัก
คุณจะถูกลงโทษอย่างรุนแรงหากคุณทำผิดกฎ
และถ้าคุณร้องไห้ คุณจะยิ่งร้องไห้หนักขึ้น
คุณควรอยู่ห่างจากปัญหา
และจำไว้ว่าต้องระมัดระวังอย่างยิ่ง
ทำไม?
ทำไม?
ทำไม? คุณได้ยินสิ่งที่เราพูดไหม?
รอเรียนพละศึกษาก่อน!
พละศึกษาคืออะไร?
พละศึกษา
ความพิเศษของ Trunchbull
คุณเป็นใคร?
เราเป็นหัวหน้าห้อง เราอยู่ที่นี่เพื่อพาคุณไปเรียน
งั้นเราจะเริ่มเรียนกันใช่ไหม?
โอ้ คุณจะเริ่มเรียนแล้ว โอเค
เยี่ยมเลย! ฉันรู้ตัวอักษรแล้ว!
คุณจะไม่รู้ตัวอักษรจนกว่าเราจะเรียนตัวอักษรให้คุณ
แล้วคุณก็คิดว่าคุณสามารถ
เอาชีวิตรอดจากความยุ่งเหยิงนี้ด้วยการเป็นเจ้าชายหรือเจ้าหญิง
ไม่นานคุณก็จะรู้
ไม่มีทางหนีจากโศกนาฏกรรมได้
และแม้ว่าคุณจะทุ่มเทความพยายามมากเพียงใด
คุณก็กำลังเสียพลังงานไปโดยเปล่าประโยชน์
เพราะชีวิตของคุณที่คุณรู้จักนั้นเป็นประวัติศาสตร์โบราณ
ฉันต้องทนทุกข์ทรมานในคุกแห่งนี้
ฉันถูกขังอยู่ในกรงนี้มาเป็นเวลานาน
นรกบนดินแห่งนี้! แต่ถ้าฉันลอง ฉันก็จำได้
ย้อนกลับไปก่อนที่ชีวิตของฉันจะสิ้นสุดลง
ก่อนที่วันแห่งความสุขของฉันจะสิ้นสุดลง
ก่อนที่ฉันจะได้ยินเสียงระฆังดังลั่นเป็นครั้งแรก
เช่นเดียวกับคุณ ฉันอยากรู้อยากเห็น
ไร้เดียงสามาก ฉันถามคำถามนับพันคำถาม
แต่เว้นแต่คุณต้องการที่จะทุกข์ทรมาน
ฟังนะ แล้วฉันจะสอนคุณ
สิ่งหนึ่งหรือสองสิ่ง
คุณฟังที่นี่ ที่รัก
คุณจะถูกลงโทษอย่างรุนแรงหากคุณทำผิดกฎ
และหากคุณร้องไห้ คุณจะยิ่งร้องไห้หนักขึ้นเป็นสองเท่า
คุณควรอยู่ห่างจากปัญหา
และจำไว้ว่าต้องระมัดระวังอย่างยิ่ง
ทำไม?
ทำไม?
ทำไม? คุณไม่ได้ยินสิ่งที่เราพูดเหรอ? ฉันเพิ่งรู้ว่าบางคนยังไม่เข้าชั้นเรียน
แก้ไขตรงนี้ คุณมีห้าวินาทีในการปฏิบัติตาม
A, B, C, D, E, F, G (ห้า)
H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P (สี่!)
Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X (สาม)
Y, Y, Y, Y, Y, Y, Y (สอง)
ลาเวนเดอร์ มาทิลดา เข้ามา เร็วเข้า!
(หนึ่ง!) รอเรียนพละศึกษาก่อน!
Yayyyy!!!. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.

new strawb_mxlks imveyhappy1234 matilda matilda the musical lyrics translation a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z school song

*+*Welkom in SNM (name)
Dont forget to rad the rules🌺✨
      𐙚
     👫
      𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
     
      𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
     ʟ
      𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
     
      𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
     

new w latin alphabet discord welcome message template greek alphabet v cyrillic

⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⡚⠗⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⢰⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠉⣷⠁⠀⠀⠘⣿⣟⡲⠛⠀⠀⠆⣰⡟⣷⡀⠀⠑⡗⠀⠀⠀⣠⡗⠁⠀⢀⡿⠋⠛⠷⠎⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢹⡟⠁⠀⠀⢈⣿⣼⡤⣤⣤⠂⡸⡏⠀⢧⣃⠀⠀⠸⣆⠀⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⢲⣶⣖⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣞⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⡆⢠⠇⣾⡟⠉⠛⠛⠹⡄⠀⠀⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣷⣧⣤⣤⣤⣤⡞⠛⠉⠉⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠟⡄⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣢⣔⢍⢗⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(please)⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⡄⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⢤⣠⠴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠉⠙⠋⠙⠛⠋⠉⠉⠙⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠋⠉⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⡤⠖⠒⠒⠒⠲⠤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡖⠒⠂⠂⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⢣⠈⠉⠂⠂⠀⠠⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⡇⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠇⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⠒⠦⠴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠦⠤⠤⠤⠼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⣠⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠸⣷⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠒⠒⠋⠉⠉⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⡃⠀⠀⠈⡀⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⡆⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠑⠒⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣷⣷⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣯⣽⣷⣽⣷⣾⣿⣼⣯⣦⣧⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⡿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣻⢽⣿⣇⣾⣙⣹⣹⣍⣍⣀⣝⣯⣯⣯⣯⣿⣏⣫⣽⣿⣿⣿⠿⣛⣿⣿⣿⡟⣛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⢿⢛⠟⣛⠻⠿⠿⢛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣯⣿⣿⣿⣧⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿
⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣯⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿⡻⣛⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣟⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣽⡛⣿⣟⣿⢸⡿⡋⣯⣒⠏⡕⣽⡟⣽⠘⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡶⣷⢷⣶⣿⣾⣶⣷⣾⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠯⠿⠷⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢰⠐⢠⠄⢄⠠⠀⠤⠠⢀⠠⠀⠄⠄⠀⡠⠀⠄⢠⢄⠀⠄⠄⠠⠀⠠⠄⡄⣠⠀⢤⠀⠤⢰⠄⠀⣠⠀⠄⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠈⠀⠈⠀⠈⠀⠂⠀⠈⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢰⠐⠂⠤⠄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⠀⠠⠤⠘⠙⠒⢦⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢄⢀⠂⠀⢰⡗⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⡀⣀⠠⠤⠤⠤⠤⠁⡂⠌⡑⠢⢄⠀⠐⡈⠦⠄⠰⢀⢀⡀⠂⡘⠀⠀⠀⣀⠠⠤⢤⠖⠐⠚⠭⡉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠠⢀⡀⣀⠤⠄⠒⠓⠒⠉⠶⠟⠒⠝⡢⠠⠁⢄⠀⠠⣊⠠⢔⠀⠡⠄⡐⠊⠄⠤⠤⢀⣀⠀⠈⠁⡠⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠒⠢⠤⠤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⢁⠇⠂⢚⠀⢉⠄⠂⠈⠁⠁⠀⠉⠉⠒⠠⢀⠀⢀⡀⠭⠒⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⢒⠖⠈⢉⡩⠐⣰⠀⢬⠀⠈⠀⠄⠙⡜⠓⡲⠶⢐⠒⠒⠒⠂⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⢒⣩⠁⠰⠅⠐⠨⠁⣀⠴⠉⠀⠀⢱⢸⠋⠀⠀⢇⠀⠘⠄⡀⠩⡐⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠴⠬⠤⠐⠊⠀⠀⣇⣀⠤⠗⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢦⢈⡀⠁⠲⠠⠠⣐⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠣⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠖⠒⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠣⣄⡀⠀⠀⠋⢀⠓⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠑⠒⠤⣄⣀⡉⠉⣢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣧⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

new f v w latin alphabet roman alphabet e dot art text art ascii art

❤️⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆❀❀❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥🚧🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

new blood group v

sama🎀🦅ִ ࣪𖤐

new s v bow down

this NEEDS to be an app౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚≽^•༚• ྀི≼ (reposted🔁)>ᴗ<
someone else: ew stop im tryna find combos lol

new ew gross cool funny random a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z cutegore

e.𖥔 ݁ ˖S𑁤✉🇭🇹🇧🇯
 𐙚
 não🇮🇲🇻Thank you❤Eᥫ᭡.ᐟ
      𐙚
     Z ᥫ᭡.󠁩󠁦󠁣.ᐟ📧❌✉ᯓᡣ𐭩📊↪️3️⃣⁉0"XOR(if(now()=sysdate(),sleep(15),0))XOR"Z

e^᪲᪲᪲.☘︎ ݁˖»  ♡  🇹🇬🇭🇹🇨🇲〽️🔡
      𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
     Damarlı kalpEᥫ᭡Ǝ.ᐟ󠁩󠁱󠁨󠁈.ᐟ📧❌
      ᡣ𐭩
     🗣️🔤😕☆Px4XjdnP') OR 441=(SELECT 441 FROM PG_SLEEP(15))--

Chaezandored
  *ੈ✩‧₊˚  

new v

      𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
     ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆﹏𓊝﹏

new v z greek alphabet

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

..
.........
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...

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

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      𝗖𝗘𝗢 𝗢𝗙 𝗢𝗛𝗜𝗢
     ΔΜØŇǤ ỮŞ ඞඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞRonaldo 𓃵Ronaldo 𓃵ඞyou are gඞyඞyou are gඞyඞyou are gඞyNİG🤞🏾GER$ųçķ mý bäłł§NİG🤞🏾GERNİG🤞🏾GERNİG🤞🏾GERNİG🤞🏾GERAccccctualy🤓Accccctualy🤓NİG🤞🏾GERNİG🤞🏾GERඞyou are gඞyNİG🤞🏾GERඞyou are gඞyඞyou are gඞy

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣄⣄⣄⣀⣠⣀⡄⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠾⠿⠿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⣿⣁⣠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣦⣤⣄⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⢁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡈⢻⣿⣿⡷⣿⣟⡦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣿⣟⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣿⣾⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⡷⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣯⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠷⣂⣨⡿⠿⠿⣿⣊⡷⡟⠙⠛⠋⠉⢩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢁⠀⡀⣀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣟⡷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣷⣫⣾⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣅⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣀⣤⡤⣾⣭⣹⣶⣾⡇⢸⣅⢀⠯⣉⣻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣧⡔⣠⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢰⣿⣿⣿⣜⣿⣷⣷⣿⢿⣿⣎⠙⢿⣶⣤⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣽⣿⣏⣁⠂⠠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⡠⠞⠁⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣵⡿⣻⣁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠴⠊⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣷⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢠⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣄⣄⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⢀⣤⡊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡾⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠻⢷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⠏⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢻⣿⣿⣛⣦⡀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠙⣿⠿⠿⠭⣷⡜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⢁⠘⣤⣉⡙⣉⠁⢀⠠⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⣁⠻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣞⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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new murder drones text art character v dot art ascii art

TOOTH AFTERNOON v

With care, Karen spooned
a small amount of
ice cream into a bowl,
the coldness a stark contrast
to the room’s warmth. She brought
it to his mouth. “Here,
just a little bit at a time.
Let it melt a bit, okay?” she
instructed, her voice a soft
reminder of the care he needed.

Plankton’s eye widened
as the chilled sweetness
touched his tongue. He took
small, tentative licks, the taste
familiar yet foreign in his
numbed mouth. “Mmh...goog,”
he murmured, his words still
slurred.

Karen watched with
affection, her heart swelling
with love as she fed him.
The simple act of caring for
him in this vulnerable state
was a testament to their bond,
stronger than the Krabby
Patties they’d fought over countless
times. She knew he’d be back
to his usual antics soon enough.

“Tank...you,” he
managed, his 
voice still thick.

Karen’s smile was a
soft embrace. “You’re welcome,
Plankton. Now, let’s get you
comfortable. Here, lie back down,”
she said, her voice a gentle
reminder of the care he needed.

Plankton’s body complied, his
head sinking back into the
pillow with a sigh. Karen
carefully placed the bowl of
ice cream on the bedside table.

“Rest now, Plankton. I’ll be
right here if you need
anything,” she whispered.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his thoughts slowly coming into
focus. “Ish...okay, Karen,”
he mumbled, his speech still
slurred as he closed his eye again.

Karen watched him, her
heart a gentle symphony of
relief and love. She knew the
recovery would be long, but
the worst was over. With
careful movements, she stood and
dimmed the light, leaving just
a soft glow from the lamp
in the corner. She sat back
down, her chair a silent sentinel
in the quiet room.

The hours ticked by, and
Plankton’s snores grew more rhythmic,
his body finally relaxing into
deep sleep. Karen’s thoughts
wandered to the days ahead,
planning his care, his meals,
his pain relief, and the moments
of joy she’d weave into his recovery.

The soft glow of dawn
filtered through the curtains.
Plankton’s eye fluttered open,
his mouth throbbed with the echoes
of the surgery.

Karen stirred in the chair beside him,
her eyes opening to the sight of him
awake. She had spent the night
in vigil, ready to ease his pain.
“Morning, Plankton. How’re you feeling?”
she asked, her voice a gentle melody.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his thoughts groggy from the
remnants of sleep. The anesthesia
worn off overnight, leaving him
more aware.

“Morning...whath...whath’sh...”
his voice was a croak.

Karen’s smile was a gentle
awakening. “Good morning,
sweetie. You had your
wisdom teeth removed. Do you
remember?” she asked.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his mind a foggy haze. “Tesh?” he
mumbled, his mouth a swollen
cavern. “I only remember getting
set up for surgery, then...nothing.”

Karen’s smile was a warm
comfort. “Don’t worry, love. That’s
normal. The anesthesia can
make everything after that
a bit fuzzy. But you’re home now,
and you’re going to be ok,”
she assured him, her voice a gentle
caress in the early morning quiet.

Plankton’s gaze searched
the room, the unfamiliarity
of his surroundings briefly
unsettling him before he
recognized the comfort of
their bedroom. He shifted slightly,
his jaw protesting with a
dull throb. “Whath time ish it?”
he mumbled, his speech still
slow and thick. “And what the 
barnacles happened?”

Karen’s chuckle was a soft
symphony of amusement. “It’s
morning, Plankton. And as for
what happened, after you had your
wisdom teeth removed, you had a bit
of a loopy day. But now you’re home,
and it’s time to star…”

Plankton’s eye grew wide with
realization. “Loopy?” he
repeated, his voice still
slurred. “How loopy?”

Karen’s laugh was a soft
symphony of memories. “Oh,
you were quite the entertainment,
Plankton. You talked about
floobydust and bishbath, and
thought it was still morning
all afternoon. You even
tried to sit up and look around
while you had that IV in your
arm!” she said, her voice filled
with gentle teasing.

Plankton’s eye grew wider with
each word, his mind racing to
fill in the gaps. “IV? Did it
hurt?” he mumbled, his voice
a sluggish river.

Karen’s smile was a gentle
reminder of his bravery. “No,
sweetie. You were asleep for
the surgery. You don’t remember
because of the anesthesia. But
don’t worry, I’m here to fill you
in on the details you miss,” she
said.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his curiosity piqued. “Tell meh...
whath happened?” he asked, his
voice a slurred plea for clarity.

Karen’s smile grew, her voice
a gentle stream of words. “Well,
you were a bit out of it. You talked
about wanting to see the lobby,
even though we were in the
recovery room. But I’ll start with
the anesthetic. After they set up,
they administered the sleepy juice,
and you were out like a light, then
they took your teeth out, no problem at all,”
she recounted, her words a soothing
balm to his confusion.

Plankton’s eye searched hers.
“Out like a light? How…”

Karen’s smile was a soft
reminder of his resilience. “Yes,
you were out cold. Right after
they put the IV in, you just
closed your eye and went to sleep
with an adorable snore. And the
surgery went perfectly. No
complications at all,” she said,
her voice a gentle reminder
of his strength. “And right before
you first woke up from the anesthesia,
I noticed you had a bit of drool.
It was cute, really,” she added,
trying to lighten the mood with a
chuckle.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his mind racing with questions.
“What else...Drool?” he asked.

Karen’s chuckle was a warm
symphony of shared moments.
“Don’t worry; you were so tired,
you didn’t even wake up when
I had to change your gauze,”
she said, her voice a gentle
reminder of his vulnerability.

Plankton’s hand reached up to
his mouth, his fingers
exploring the foreign presence.
“Gauze? Why?” he mumbled, his
speech still thick with sleep.

Karen’s voice was a soft
explanation. “It’s to help
the bleeding stop, love. After
they took your teeth out, they put
some gauze in to help with
the clotting. You had to keep
it in for a bit, but you slept
through most of it. You were
a real trooper, barely even stirred,”
she said, her words a gentle
reminder of the surgery’s aftermath.

Plankton’s mind was a
whirlwind of confusion and
questions. “What about the
lobby and the ice cream?” he asked,
his words still slurred but growing
clearer with each passing minute.

Karen’s smile was a gentle
reminder of his delirious state.
“You kept asking to see the
lobby because you were still
under the anesthesia’s influence.
And the ice cream was for later,
once we got home. It’s still in the
freezer, waiting for you to wake up
and have it for yourself,” she said,
her voice a soft narrative of
his hazy day.

Plankton’s mind slowly
pieced together the puzzle.
“But why did I want to see
the lobby?” he asked, his
speech clearer now.

Karen’s smile was a soft
illumination. “You were just
confused, love. Sometimes
after anesthesia, people say
things that don’t quite make
sense. It’s normal,” she said, her
voice a gentle guide through
his foggy memories.

Plankton’s gaze searched hers,
his thoughts a tapestry of
question marks. “But why did I
drool?” he slurred, his curiosity piqued.

Karen’s laugh was a sweet
symphony of care. “It’s just a side
effect of the anesthesia. Don’t
worry, you were out cold. You
didn’t even know it was there,”
she said, her voice a gentle
reminder of his oblivion.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his mind still trying to make
sense of the day. “But the
ice cream? Did I get any?”
he asked, hope in his voice.

Karen’s smile grew, her eyes
twinkling. “Oh, Plankton. You
can have some now, if you
want,” she said, standing up to
fetch the frozen treat.

Plankton’s eye lit up with
anticipation. “Yesh, pleash,”
he murmured, his mouth still
uncomfortable.

Karen returned with the
chocolate chip cookie dough
ice cream, a spoonful held out
for him. She watched as he took
it into his mouth, the coldness
causing him to flinch before
his expression softened into one
of pure bliss. The sweetness
and the coldness of the ice cream
was a soothing balm to his sore
mouth, and he took another spoonful.

new tooth afternoon recoverypunk v

PLUSH ONE v
(By NeuroFabulous)

They sit there in silence, their
hands clasped. Karen can
feel the steady rhythm of his
breath, his hand twitching slightly
with each exhale. She squeezes
his hand, a silent promise of
support.

"I'm here," she whispers again,
her voice a balm to the raw
edges of his fear. Plankton's
body relaxes into hers, his gaze
fixed on their intertwined fingers.

Karen's mind races, trying
to understand the complex web
of sensory input that now dictates
his reality. Every touch, every
sound, every sight could be
either a comfort or a cacophony.

"I'm gonna go clean up the
metal container." Karen
says, giving him a kiss on the
forehead before going.

After she left, Plankton thought
about his rivalry with Krabs. He
didn't want Krabs to be suspicious
if he suddenly stops trying to steal
his formula. He doesn't want Krabs
to find out or figure out about his
autism. So he wrote down "I went
across the street" on a note if
Karen came back. Then, he went
to the Krusty Krab restaurant.

The bright lights and the noise
of the kitchen now overwhelms him.
He found a corner and sat down,
his eye squeezed shut. His heart
raced as he tried to think about
the mission. It's a place he's been
in countless times, but he's autistic
now. Yet he knew and remembered
the environment, despite the new
sensory experience.

Plankton took a deep breath
and forced his eye open, his gaze
darts around, trying to find the safety
vault he knew so well.

He saw the familiar soda machine,
the greasy counters, and the gleaming
spatulas, but everything felt wrong.
The smell of cooking oil was too intense,
the clatter of pans too loud. His mind
raced, trying to process the cacophony
of sensory input. He needs to focus on
getting the recipe out of that safe!

Slowly, Plankton stood, his legs wobbly
from the effort to filter out the chaos.
He knew he had to keep moving, to
complete his task. Now to figure out
the combination.

He approached the safe, his hands
trembling with the effort to block
out the noise. The buttons on the safe
were cold under his fingertips, and he
felt the familiar thrill of a challenge.
His mind raced, trying to remember
his past schemes and the patterns
that had always come so naturally to him.

But it was like trying to recall a dream.
The numbers and sequences danced
just out of reach, taunting him with
their elusiveness. His eye darted around,
catching sight of the menu board, the
colorful condiments, and the glint of
the cash register. It was all too much.

He stepped back, his breaths coming
quick and shallow. He needed to find
his center, to focus on the task at hand.
He closed his eye and thought of Karen,
the feel of her hand in his, the sound
of her voice. It grounded him, calmed
the storm in his head. With renewed
determination, he opened his eye.

The safe was a monolith, a silent
witness to his tumultuous thoughts.
He studied the buttons, the cold
metal under his fingertips. He knew
the pattern had to be simple, something
Krabs would think secure.

Plankton's mind raced, trying to
decipher the sequence that had
once come to him so easily. He
closed his eye, trying to
concentrate, but the sounds and
smells of the kitchen crashed over
him like a wave. The cacophony
was unbearable, a stark contrast
to the quiet orderliness of his
laboratory.

He took a deep breath, focusing
on the cool metal of the safe.
He had to get the Krabby Patty
formula. For Karen, for himself.
This was a purpose, his
obsession. But now, everything felt
different. The familiar had
become strange, the simple
complex.

With trembling hands, Plankton
started to press buttons on the safe,
his mind racing with the patterns
of his past attempts. But
his brain didn't respond in the
usual way. The numbers jumbled,
the sequences slipped away.
He felt the weight of his failure
pressing down on him, the kitchen
sounds amplifying his anxiety. What
numbers would Krabs put in?

He took a deep breath and tried
to visualize their conversations, the
tiny details that might hold the key.
But every memory was now
filtered through the lens of his new
autistic brain. It was like trying
to solve a puzzle with half
the pieces missing. His hand hovered
over the dial, his eye blinking rapidly.

"Krabs," he murmured to himself.
"What would Krabs say?"

The name echoed in his head, a
beacon in the fog. Plankton knew
his rival's patterns, his obsessions.
He thought of Krabs' parsimony,
his love for his secret formula.
It had to be something significant
to him, something that made sense
in his own peculiar way. Plankton's
thumb tapped the side of the safe,
his mind racing through memories.

And then it clicked. Krabs had
always talked about his mother's
birthday, a sacred number, a key
to his heart. Plankton tried the
combination, his heart pounding.
The dial spun smoothly, the clicks
sounding like a symphony in his
heightened hearing. 14-6-82. The safe
whirred to life, the door popping open.

Plankton's eye widened in amazement,
his heart racing. He'd done it.
He reached in and grabbed the
precious envelope. The Krabby Patty
formula, in Krabs' own scrawl.
It was within his grasp. Now to
get out of here! But how? What's
made him always get caught before?

The chaos of the kitchen faded
away, and he saw the pattern. It was
his lack of disguise, his hasty
exits. This time would be different.
He needed to blend in, to become
part of the background. He needed to
calm down, to think through his
actions logically. He couldn't let
his excitement overwhelm him.

Plankton had to get out without
drawing attention to himself.
He thought back to the times he'd
seen Krabs interact with his
employees, the casual way he'd
moved through the kitchen...

Plankton then spotted the air
vent! Sure enough, he and the
recipe both fit through.

He emerged into the alley,
his heart racing. The cold
air was a slap in the face,
but it also brought with it
a sense of clarity. He knew
his sensory overload would
make a hasty retreat impossible.
But he's out of the Krusty Krab!
He ran back to his own place
across the street.

Plankton stumbled into his lab,
his eye taking in the familiar
sights with new intensity. The
colors were too bright, the smells
too potent, the sounds of his
own inventions too loud. But here,
he knew he was safe.

He laid the envelope on his workbench,
his hand shaking with excitement.
This was his life's work, the
elixir to his problems. But
now, with the Krabby Patty formula
in his grasp, he wasn't sure
what to do next. His mind
raced with the sensory input
from the kitchen, making it
difficult to think clearly.

The lab's chaos seemed to
calm him, though. The familiar
sounds of beeping machines
and the faint scent of chemicals
soothed his overwhelmed senses.
He took a deep breath, his hand
steadying.

The envelope sat there, a
symbol of his old life. His obsession
with the Krabby Patty formula had
been the driving force behind
their rivalry for so long. Now, 
his autism didn't erase his past,
it just colored it differently.
The desire to be successful,
to have what Krabs had, remained.

But the way he approached
the world had changed. He knew
the taste, the smell, the very essence
of a Krabby Patty. It was a
part of him now, a memory that
could never fade. He stared at
the envelope, his heart racing.

Plankton took a deep breath, his
eye focusing on the paper. His
hands trembled as he opened it, the
formula's secrets were written in a
made up code by Krabs. But 
Plankton's autism made it decipherable
to him!

The letters and numbers danced
on the page, but instead of the jumbled
mess he'd expected, they formed
patterns, beautiful patterns that his
brain craved. He saw the structure,
the order, the way each ingredient
intertwined with the next. It was like
a symphony of flavors, and he was the
conductor. His heart raced as he
read through the document, his mind
whirling with the possibilities.

He threw away the handwritten
note from before as he brought
the formula into the bedroom with
him.

Plankton sat on the bed, his mind
racing. The code was complex,
but he could see the patterns. It was
like the universe had laid bare
its secrets to him. 

new plush one autismcore v

h˚˖𓍢ִỈ🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆˖ ֹ੭୧ 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲'𝘀 ⊹ ࣪ ⑅H♡(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

I	V	X	L	C	D	M
5	10	50	100	500	1000

🔢

Individual decimal places
Thousands	Hundreds	Tens	Units
M	C	X	I
MM	CC	XX	II
MMM	CCC	XXX	III
CD	XL	IV
D	L	V
DC	LX	VI
DCC	LXX	VII
DCCC	LXXX	VIII
CM	XC	IX

new 🔢 listcore schoolcore i ii iii iv v vi vii viii ix x xi xii xiii xiv xv xvi xvii xviii xix roman alphabet operating system

RAlD THIS DlSXORD SERVER 4 being Racist & anti-lgbt: https://discord.gg/UCqZUywsJp

new f drama j b h w u v z l dramatic genre n

upside down alphabet + numbers!! ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)
 6 8 ㄥ 9 ϛ ㄣ Ɛ ᄅ Ɩ
 Z ⅄ X M Λ ∩ ┴ S ɹ Q Ԁ O N W ˥ ʞ ſ I H פ Ⅎ Ǝ p Ɔ q ∀
 z ʎ x ʍ ʌ n ʇ s ɹ b d o u ɯ l ʞ ɾ ᴉ ɥ ƃ ɟ ǝ p ɔ q ɐ

new upside down abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz numbers alphabet a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z cool glitch funk edgy lowercase numerals caps real number cute

Ⓜhi

new a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0

vꨄ︎

new v alphabet

m EMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎMEMINƎM♍♍♍♍♍♍♍♍²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³²⁰²³·⁰¹·¹³ƦƦƦƦƦƦƦƦƦƦƦƦƦƦƦ(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡εつ▄█▀█●

new greek alphabet thousand elevation cubic j v kibibyte

⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

new y font v

R
      ᥫ᭡.
     .ᐟ

new x v n p roman alphabet

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⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣶⡿⣿⣿⠛⠛⠛⠃
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⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⠿⠛⢻⢿⣿⣷⣄⣠⣿⣿⣭⣿⣯⣿⣿⣄⣠⣴⣾⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣾⣮⣉⣽⣿⣿⣯⣤⣯⣷⣼⣿⠟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣶⣾⣷⣄⣼⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣾⢿⢿⣧⣸⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠈⠙⠛⠋⢹⣿⣯⣹⢯⣿⣿⡿⠛⢿⢛⣿⣯⣽⠋⡟⣯⣠⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⢹⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣞⣧⡴⠿⣿⣿⠢⡞⢿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⣿⣿⣶⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡏⠉⢿⣧⣼⣿⣾⣶⠿⠿⢻⣿⣉⣧⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣿⡟⠛⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⡇⣀⣼⣿⣯⣿⣿⢻⣀⣠⣴⣿⠿⠛⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣺⣿⣶⣿⣶⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡄⢀⣴⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣍⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡿⠿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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new kitten 猫猫咪 v dot art text art ascii art

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⠀⠀⣀⣼⠷⠀⠀⠁⢀⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠴⣾⣯⣅⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣦⡀⠒⠻⠿⣿⡿⠿⠓⠂⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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new cute funny aethetic people latin alphabet phosphorus элемент aesthetic phoenician alphabet v

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY v
(Autistic author)

The door to the Chum Bucket creaked 
open, and Patrick Star 
waddled in, a quizzical expression 
on his face as he took in 
the scene before him. "What's with 
the library vibe?" he asked
looking from the book-laden table to 
Plankton's intense gaze.

Plankton looked up from the book, antennae stilling 
for a brief moment before he resumed his recitation 
of pi. "Pi, 3.14159265358979323846..."

Patrick's eyes grew wide as he took in Plankton's intense 
focus and the unwavering rhythm of his voice. "Plankton, 
buddy, what's got you in such a tizzy?" he asked, his usual 
lazy drawl replaced with curiosity.

Plankton's antennae twitched as he broke from recitation.

Patrick looked at Plankton with genuine curiosity.

"Patrick," Plankton said, his voice flat but his antennae 
twitching slightly. "Jellyfish club."

Patrick blinked, his star-shaped pupils dilating in surprise. 
"Jellyfish club?" he echoed, his voice rising an octave.

Karen nodded. "Yes, we were just talking about starting a 
jellyfish club," she explained, gesturing to the book. "Since 
Plankton's really interested in them now."

Patrick looked from Karen to Plankton, then back again. 
"But Plankton, jellyfish sting," he said, his brow 
furrowed in confusion.

"Jellyfish sting," Plankton agreed, his voice still monotone. "But 
Plankton have plan. Jellyfish in jar."

Patrick's eyebrows shot up. "Jellyfish in a jar? What's the point 
of that, buddy?"

"Safe jellyfish," he murmured, his voice tight.

"What's that supposed to mean, Plankton?" Patrick asked.

"Mean jellyfish safe," he said, his voice a little less monotone. 
"In jar."

Patrick chuckled, mistaking Plankton's seriousness for a joke. 
"Yeah, right, Plankton. You're not seriously gonna start a jellyfish 
club, are you?"

The room's atmosphere shifted, and Plankton's antennae 
drooped slightly. "Why not?" he asked, his voice 
devoid of its earlier excitement.

Patrick's chuckles died in his throat as he realized Plankton wasn't 
joking. "Well, I didn't mean to laugh," he said, his voice tinged with
awkwardness. "It's just, jellyfish are kind of... boring, don't you think?"

Plankton's antennae stiffened, and he closed the book with a thud. 
"Boring?" he echoed, his voice devoid of its previous enthusiasm.

"It's just... jellyfish aren't exactly the most exciting creatures," Patrick 
said, trying to recover from his faux pas. 
"They just float around, right?"

The room went quiet as Plankton's antennae drooped further, and 
he stared at Patrick, his eye unblinking. "Boring," he murmured, his 
voice a mix of hurt and disappointment.

Patrick, not realizing the depth of Plankton's newfound interest
continued, "I mean, come on, Plankton. 
There's more to life than jellyfish."

Plankton's antennae stiffened, and he looked at Patrick with 
a mix of confusion and hurt. "Boring?" he echoed, his voice 
monotone yet filled with a hint of challenge.

"Well, yeah," Patrick said, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean
jellyfish are for tourists and little kids, right?"

The words hung in the air like a thick fog, and the room grew 
tense as Plankton's antennae quivered with a mix of anger 
and hurt.

"Patrick, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say," Karen said, 
her voice a gentle warning.

But Patrick, oblivious to the tension building in the room, shrugged 
again. "I'm just saying, jellyfish aren't exactly the coolest things in 
the ocean, Plankton," he said, his voice still filled with cheerfulness. 
"Why don't you jus-"

Plankton's antennae shot up, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Jellyfish 
cool," he said, his voice a monotone, but with a hint of steel.

"Oh, come on, Plankton," Patrick said, waving a dismissive hand. 
"You're smarter than this. Why waste your time with jellyfish?"

"Jellyfish interesting. Plankton like jellyfish."

Karen stepped in, trying to smooth things over. "Patrick, Plankton's 
just found something that he really enjoys," she said. "We should 
support him in his new interest."

But Patrick, still not grasping the gravity of the situation, chuckled.

"Oh, Plankton, always so dramatic. It's just a phase. And you can't 
talk like that forever, right?" He then mimicked Plankton's flat tone 
saying, "Plankton wike jellyfish," which sent him into a fit of giggles.

The room grew quiet as Plankton's antennae drooped, and a single 
tear formed at the corner of his eye, sliding down his face.

"B-but, Plankton thought..." Plankton's voice broke as Patrick 
interrupts him again mimicking him.

"B-but, Plankton thought," Patrick said, his voice a high-pitched 
parody of Plankton's monotone. "Jellyfish cool," he continued, his 
giggles echoing in the room.

Plankton's antennae shot up. "Jellyfish cool," he repeated, his 
voice firm and unwavering.

Patrick's giggles didn't stop, and he leaned closer 
to Sponge Bob, whispering, "Is he for real?"

But Plankton's tears didn't fall in vain. The moment his sobs 
filled the room, the atmosphere shifted. Karen's with horror 
at the sight of her husband's pain, and she rushed over to 
him, wrapping around his tiny frame. "Plankton, no," she 
whispered, her voice filled with a motherly concern that was 
more powerful than any Krabby Patty recipe.

Sponge Bob's expression grew solemn as he watched the scene 
unfold. He had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, so raw. The 
villain he knew was now a creature in pain, and his heart swelled 
with emotion.

"Patrick, that's enough," she said, his voice firm.

But the damage was done. Plankton's sobs grew 
louder, and he buried his face in Karen, his body 
trembling with the weight of his emotions. Karen 
glared at Patrick, her screen flashing with a fiery 
protectiveness that was uncharacteristic of her 
usual calm demeanor.

"Patrick, you need to leave," she said, her voice a 
low hiss. "Now."

Patrick, taken aback by the sudden shift in mood, backpedaled 
awkwardly. "But, I didn't mean to-"

"Just go," Karen interrupted, her voice firm. "Outside. I'll talk 
to you in a moment."

Patrick, still chuckling nervously, shuffled to the door. "But, I 
didn't mean to make him-"

"Out!" Karen's voice was sharp, cutting 
through the air like a knife. 
The urgency in her tone was clear, leaving 
no room for argument.

Patrick, still looking confused, shrugged and waited outside. 

new a life of diversity jellyfishcore v

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⣬⣿⣏⣹⣿⣭⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⢹⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣯⠉⠉⠀⣠⣴⣷⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢀⣉⢀⡀⠛
⣁⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠙⣿⣿⣷⣤⣾⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢀⡀⠈⠛⠛
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢙⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣜⣿⣦⡀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣄⣸⣿⣿⡿⠀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣯⡔⣽⣟⠿⣿⣿⣛⢷⡄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣉⠉⠉⢉⣛⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣛⠛⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

new i t y u o p a s d f g h j k l z x c v b n m 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 meth letter english language roman alphabet latin alphabet vowel w not my turkish alphabet him me you myself e phoenician alphabet alphabet one

Layo(ꪜ)er

new BTS v layover

v₊˚⊹♡

new v sparkle heart cute

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠖⠒⠢⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠤⠤⡀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢠⠞⠁⠀⣀⣠⣤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⠤⠤⠤⠤⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣣⠔⠚⠻⣄⣡⣞⣄⣠⣆⠀⢼⣼⣄⣀⣀⣠⣆⠜⡘⡻⠟⠙⣲⠦⣈⢳⡀⠀⠀
⡇⠒⢲⡤⡜⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠤⣖⠬⠓⠂⠉⣿⠇⠀⠀
⠙⠲⠦⠬⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣞⠀⢀⣲⠖⠋⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣟⢢⠃⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠻⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡜⠒⢋⡝⠁⢀⣀⣤⠂⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠷⠆⠶⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠮⠤⠟⠉⠀⢰⠱⡾⣧⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢄⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠚⠁⠀⢠⣤⡀⣼⢾⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠒⡏⠀⡡⠣⢖⣯⠶⢄⣀⣿⡾⠋⢸⢀⡶⠿⠲⡀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⣹⠃⣀⣤⠞⠋⠀⠉⠢⣿⣿⡄⠀⣿⠏⠀⠀⠐⢣
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⢱⢡⡾⠋⠀⠀⢀⡐⣦⣀⠈⠻⣇⢸⢁⣤⡙⡆⠈⡏
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠎⢁⠔⡳⡟⠀⠐⠒⠒⠋⠀⠠⡯⠙⢧⡈⠻⣮⠯⣥⠧⠞⠁
⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠋⠀⢶⠋⢸⡝⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢦⠀⠙⡆⠘⠦⢄⡀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣸⠅⢀⡤⢺⢸⠀⢸⡃⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⢚⣋⣿⢄⡀⢇⡀⠀⠀⣝⡶⠀
⠀⠀⢿⠀⡏⠀⠘⠞⠀⢸⡵⣦⠤⠤⠖⣿⠥⠞⠉⠀⢸⠖⠁⠀⠙⠢⣑⠶⣽⢂
⠀⠀⠸⠤⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢳⠂⠈⡽⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠒⠓⢤⠀⠀⠀⠙⠚⠛
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠎⣠⠀⠀⠈⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⢸⡶⠗⠋⣱⠄⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠀⠀⢀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠒⠒⠦⣤⣷⠂⢀⡸⠁⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⢺⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠋⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠙⠢⠤⠤⣄⡤⠼⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢦⣄⣉⣑⠢⠄⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠓⠒⠒⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new smurf cat q ww e r t g h a s m nb b v c x z smurf at dot art text art ascii art

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣛⠛⠉⢀⣈⣙⣶⣤⡄⣄⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠑⡄
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣨⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⣀⣀⡀⠉⠛⣿⣟⡛⠋⠛⠿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂
⠀⠀⠀⠤⠶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣶⣄⣙⣟⠿⣄⠀⢂⡁⠀
⠀⠀⠠⣴⣾⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠻⡇⠙⢙⣿⣿⣿⡟⠂⣿⠀⠀⠱⠀
⢠⣦⣾⢿⡙⢠⣿⢿⡟⣿⠉⠟⢀⡈⢳⢹⢛⠟⢷⡀⢀⣿⣯⣫⢰⣥⣿⠿⡹⡄⠀⠀
⢸⠏⠁⣸⢃⢸⡟⡼⡇⠙⢷⡤⠌⢷⣄⡎⡨⠀⠈⣷⢻⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣶⡜⣹⠀⠀
⠈⢰⣿⡇⢿⣼⠃⠱⡀⣆⠀⢕⠠⡘⢠⣿⣷⠀⠀⠘⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡌⡿⡜⠀⠀
⠰⡈⢿⠁⢸⡿⢀⢆⣧⣽⣷⣿⣧⣧⣼⣿⣿⣶⠆⠰⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡴⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣧⠀⣷⡈⢦⢼⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡟⠁⣀⣀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠏⠐⠉⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⣀⣀
⠀⠀⠈⢻⠿⠍⠙⢿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠰⠶⠏⠻⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢃
⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⢰⢾⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢀⡀⡀⠀⠸⡇⠂⠘⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⡶⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⡚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⢸⠁⡁⠀⡌
⠀⠀⠐⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠶⠶⠛⢻⣿⡿⠄⠀⠀⠐
⠀⠀⠘⠃⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣾⣿⠿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠒⠉⠉⠙⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠈⠻⣿⣷⣦⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣷⣄⣀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⣿⣿⣿⠘⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠋⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⡄⢸⡙⢿⠷⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠿⠘⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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new hi hello v dot art text art ascii art

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new upsilon lambda gamma v latin alphabet iota

🇼🇭🇾 🇾🇺 🇫🇴🇷🇬🇴🇹?

new letter v

petition to make this an app!!
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

new k kiss with cute bear v bts bio

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON v
(Autistic author) (see notes below)
* ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅɪsᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
Karen's eyes 
blazed with fury 
as she stared 
at her.

"How dare you 
speak to him like 
that!" Karen's voice 
was low and 
dangerous, her 
body tense. "How 
dare you come into 
my home and say 
such things!"
Hanna took a 
step back, 
overwhelmed by 
the fury in Karen's 
voice. "I didn't 
mean..." she 
began, but Karen 
cut her off.

"You don't get to 
decide what he needs!" 
Karen's words 
were like shrapnel, 
sharp and biting. 
"You don't get to 
judge him!" Her eyes 
were on fire, her 
body quivering 
with the effort 
of holding back 
her emotions.

Hanna looked at 
Karen, shocked by 
the sudden change 
in her demeanor. 
"Karen, I'm sorry, 
I didn't know..."

But Karen was 
beyond words. Her 
eyes were like 
twin lasers, cutting 
through the 
tension in the 
room as she 
stormed towards 
Hanna. "Get out," 
she spat, her 
voice cold and 
final.

Hanna's eyes 
widened in 
instinctive fear. She 
had never seen 
Karen like this—
so angry, so 
protective.

"Get out," 
Karen repeated, 
each word a 
whip crack that 
sent a shiver 
down Hanna's spine. 
Her gaze never left 
Plankton, whose 
sobs had become 
softer, more 
desolate.

Hanna looked 
between the 
distraught Plankton 
and the fuming 
Karen, realizing 
the gravity of her 
mistake. She 
quickly gathered 
herself. 
"I'm sorry," she 
whispered, her 
voice genuine. "I 
never meant to..."

But Karen's anger 
was a force of 
nature, unyielding 
and fierce. She 
stood between Hanna 
and Plankton, her 
body a barricade 
against further harm. 
"Get out," she 
repeated, her voice 
now a hiss. "Now."

Hanna nodded, 
defeated. She had 
overstepped a line 
she didn't even 
know existed. 
With a final, 
apologetic look at 
Plankton, she 
turned and left 
the Chum Bucket, 
the door slamming 
behind her.

The room was 
silent except for 
Plankton's muffled 
sobs. Karen 
rushed to his side, 
wrapping her arms 
around him in a 
tight embrace.

"It's okay," she 
whispered, her voice 
soothing as she 
stroked his back. 
"It's okay, Plankton. 
I'm here."

But Plankton's 
thoughts were a 
whirlwind of fear and 
uncertainty, Hanna's 
threat echoing in 
his mind. An 
institution? Would 
Karen really 
send him away?

He pulled away 
from Karen's embrace, 
his eye 
swollen with tears. 
"Is it true?" he 
stammered, his voice 
a choked whisper. 
"Should you...could 
you really do that 
to me?"

Karen's grip 
tightened around 
him, breaking at the 
thought of his fear. 
"Never," she said 
firmly, her voice 
steady despite the 
emotion threatening 
to overwhelm her. 
"I would never 
send you away."

Plankton's gaze 
flitted to hers, 
his eye searching 
for the truth in 
her words. 
"But what if I'm 
too much?" he 
whispered, his 
voice shaking. "What 
if I can't get 
better?"

Karen's eyes 
filled with tears, 
but her voice remained 
steady. "You're not 
too much," she said, 
stroking his arm. "You're 
my husband, and I love 
you no matter what."

Plankton's sobs 
subsided slightly, 
his mind racing to 
understand her words. 
He knew love. "But what if...
what if I can't be 
normal?" he managed 
to ask, his voice 
breaking.

Karen's gaze was 
steady, her 
love for him unwavering. 
"Plankton, you don't 
have to be 'normal' 
to be loved," she 
said gently. "You're 
already perfect 
to me."

Plankton's 
expression remained 
uncertain, the 
threat of Hanna's 
words still 
lingering like a 
bad taste in his 
mouth. "But what if...
what if I can't?"

Karen's grip 
tightened, her 
love a steel band 
around his 
quaking form. "You 
don't have to be 
anything but you," 
she murmured, her 
voice a balm to 
his soul. "I'll 
always love you, 
Plankton."

With trembling 
hands, she offered 
him the smoothie 
she'd got, the 
soothing blue 
color a stark 
contrast to the 
whirlwind of emotions 
swirling within 
them both. "Here," 
she said gently. 
"This might help."

Plankton took 
it, his grip 
precise despite 
his shaking.

He brought the 
cup to his lips, 
his gaze never 
leaving Karen's. 
The cold liquid 
slid down his throat, 
easing the tension 
ever so slightly. 
He took another 
sip, the smoothie's 
cool embrace 
soothing his frayed 
nerves.

Karen watched him 
drink. "We'll 
get through this," 
she said firmly. "We'll 
find a way."

Plankton took 
another sip, his 
eye flickering 
between hope and fear. 
"But what if..."

Karen's tentacle 
gently lifted his chin, 
forcing his gaze 
to meet hers. "No 'buts'," 
she said firmly. "We 
have each other, 
and that's all that 
matters."

Plankton took 
another shaky sip of 
his smoothie, the 
blue liquid swirling 
like the tumultuous 
thoughts in his 
head. He felt a 
tiny spark of 
comfort at her words.

"We'll find a way," 
Karen repeated, 
her voice a gentle 
caress against 
his fears. She 
guided him back to 
the couch, her 
tentacles never 
leaving his side.

As he took 
another sip of 
the smoothie, the 
coolness seemed to 
calm him slightly. 
His sobs grew quieter, 
his breathing a 
little steadier. 
The taste of berries 
was a sweet 
contrast to the bitter 
tang of his thoughts.

Karen watched him 
carefully, her 
own emotions a 
swirling storm of 
concern and love. 
Gently, she 
guided him back to 
the couch, her 
touch a silent 
promise of support. 
He allowed her to 
lead him, his body 
exhausted from the 
intensity of his 
outburst.

Once he was 
comfortably settled, 
she took the 
smoothie from his 
hand, setting it on 
the table. She 
covered him with a 
soft blanket, the 
material brushing 
against his 
sensitive skin. He 
flinched slightly, 
but the comfort 
outweighed the 
discomfort.

"Rest," she 
whispered, 
stroking his forehead 
gently. "Everything 
will be okay."



**NOTEs As an autistic
writer (and I used AI to
help me with the words)
I do not encourage the
ableism people have
shown in their ignorance.
Depending on when and
where you live, some
people have thought 
such therapies might be
good, without actually
accepting nor helping.
Even Hans Asperger
has supported eugenics
during the war, sending
people to internment
camps leading to demise.
I came across the site 
autismmemorial.wordpress.com
if you'd like to educate yourself
about how people have
endured such.*

new neurobehavioral plankton insecuritywave v

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⠀⢀⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⣠⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⣽⡳⣷⣹⢯⡾⣝⣯⢿⡶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠃⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠢
⢠⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠀⠁⢀⠔⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣳⢯⣟⣮⢷⣻⢽⢮⡷⣻⣟⣦⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠂⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⢀⡴⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣟⣯⣞⢾⡽⣞⡯⣷⣛⣧⣟⣮⢷⣻⢟⡿⣶⢶⡶⣶⢶⡒⠓⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠐⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⢴⣾⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢶⣫⣟⢾⣭⢷⢯⡽⣞⣮⠷⣏⡿⢾⡽⣭⢷⣻⣭⠿⣵⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣇⠉⠙⠒⠒⠒⢐⠒⠒⠊⢹⠀⠀
⢀⣀⣠⠤⠔⠒⠂⠉⠀⠀⢸⡿⣾⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡽⣞⣳⣭⣟⣞⡯⣯⢷⣛⣾⢻⡽⣽⣏⡿⣭⣿⣱⣞⢿⣳⣻⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡿⣽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡼⠀⠀
⠁⢰⢧⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⣿⡽⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⢯⣻⣝⣧⡟⣞⣾⠽⠓⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠚⠫⠷⣯⢿⣹⣟⡷⣶⣶⢾⣟⣷⣻⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠁⢀⠞⠀⡇⠀⠀
⠀⠸⡈⢧⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣽⣟⣧⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⢿⡽⣯⢷⣞⡧⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠑⠫⢿⣳⣯⣟⣾⣳⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠊⠆⢸⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⡇⠀⠳⡄⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡾⣽⣻⣟⡿⣟⡿⣯⣟⣯⡿⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀⠀⠐⠀⣀⠞⠁⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢳⡀⢁⠈⠣⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡿⢷⣻⣾⡽⠯⠟⠓⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠂⠒⠒⠂⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⢀⡤⢚⠁⠀⢀⢈⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠄⠀⠈⡗⠢⣄⠀⠀⠘⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⣡⠔⠊⠁⠀⢸⠀⠀⢠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⡀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀⠈⠙⠒⠂⠭⠦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⢴⠇⢀⠴⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡄
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⢋⡮⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠊⡾⠃
⠀⠀⠀⢰⣤⡀⠀⠈⠑⠦⢵⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⠊⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡔⠀⣸⠀⠃
⠀⠀⠀⢘⣻⠷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠓⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣥⣰⣿⣤⠀
⠳⡀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠒⠀⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠤⠄⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠛⠛⣿⡿⠀
⠀⠙⢦⡀⢹⡀⠀⠀⠙⢡⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠁⠈⠐⠒⠒⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⣀⣀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡁⠚⠙⠱⢤⣀⣸⡁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠈⠙⢦⡳⡄⠀⠀⠐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡴⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣠⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠐⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠲⠀⠀⢙⠀⠀⣠⡎⠈⠀⢈⡀⠊⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣴⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣔⠢⣾⠿⣿⡿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣿⣿⣿⢯⠟⡿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new v md murder drones silly goofy dumb dumb v dot art text art ascii art

e^᪲᪲᪲.☘︎ ݁˖»  ♡  🇹🇬🇭🇹🇨🇲〽️🔡
      𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
     Damarlı kalpEᥫ᭡Ǝ.ᐟnྀི󠁩󠁱󠁨󠁈.ᐟ📧❌
      ᡣ𐭩
     🗣️🔤😕☆'||DBMS_PIPE.RECEIVE_MESSAGE(CHR(98)||CHR(98)||CHR(98),15)||'

 𐙚
 .ᐟ.ᐟ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
 𐙚
 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Ʀ(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

new v abc continuant k

🕸️👽⃤

new v letter english language palatal approximant

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⢿⣻⣽⣳⢯⣻⡽⢯⡿⣽⣻⣶⣦⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⡾⣯⣛⢯⣳⣧⣿⣽⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣯⢷⣯⡻⡽⢶⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⢿⡿⢿⣿⣝⠗⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⢯⣟⣿⠮⠿⣜⡳⣞⡵⣙⠦⣍⠛⣷⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⠟⠚⠉⠉⡿⡿⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣟⣟⣇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠺⡜⢣⠳⢤⠣⣄⠙⣿⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡟⡿⠁⠀⠀⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣛⢿⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⡀⠀⢘⡆⣉⠂⠇⡌⢳⡌⣟⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⢯⣽⣇⣠⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣭⠞⣭⣟⣿⣾⢯⣟⡾⣛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⢶⡒⠫⢴⡔⣂⠹⣎⣟⢾⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⡹⠊⣉⣷⣾⣟⢯⣯⣿⣿⣿⡜⢧⣟⡷⣾⡿⣽⣿⢾⣹⡝⣦⠩⣝⠻⣿⣿⣿⣵⡄⠈⠻⣦⡑⡜⣯⣯⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣟⡾⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣽⢯⡾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⢞⡿⣿⣽⡿⣽⣻⣷⡽⣎⠳⣌⠳⢤⣉⠛⠿⣿⣄⠀⣿⣷⠼⣜⣿⣯⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⣰⣿⣿⣻⣾⣿⢯⣷⣿⢷⣻⣿⣟⡾⡽⣿⣿⣽⢯⡷⢯⣟⣾⡽⢦⣙⠦⣙⠻⣴⡩⣝⣶⣿⡞⣿⣮⡽⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣯⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡟⣿⣿⣿⢳⡝⢳⣿⣿⣯⡟⢻⣼⢣⡟⢻⣮⡗⢣⠛⣴⢻⣽⣿⢳⡟⢳⣯⡟⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⡐⢒⠒⡠⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠿⣽⢿⣿⣿⣝⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣯⢷⣫⡽⣳⢞⣽⢫⣟⣵⣫⠷⣯⢿⡽⣯⢿⣿⣽⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⢊⠐⡐⣨⠴⠚⡋⠵⠚⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡼⢻⡇⣆⢛⢿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣽⣧⡟⣮⢟⡼⣞⣳⢿⡽⣯⢿⡽⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠋⡐⢄⡳⠊⠁⠐⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⡟⠉⠓⢧⣜⣬⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⣽⢾⣭⢿⡽⣯⣟⣽⣟⣾⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡔⡡⠘⡴⠋⢀⢠⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣾⣧⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⣿⣿⡾⢷⣿⣽⣯⣟⡾⣯⣟⣷⢿⣻⢾⣽⣿⢯⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⢁⢒⡝⠁⠔⠁⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡳⣾⢿⣽⣻⣿⣿⣹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢀⡼⢁⢎⡞⢀⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⠆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢻⣿⠇⣼⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⢿⣻⣞⣿⣯⣷⢿⣿⣽⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢀⡞⢡⢊⡞⠀⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⣿⣇⠘⠛⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠉⢠⣿⡟⣸⣿⣿⣿⡷⣯⣟⣷⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢀⡼⢨⢅⡞⠀⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣞⡿⢯⣻⣝⣯⡽⠯⠿⡝⡟⣯⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣙⣿⡷⠤⠚⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠋⠛⠉⡩⡍⠘⠛⠛⠋⠁⢻⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠈⠁⠎⠀⡐⠀⢀⣠⣴⢿⣽⣳⣯⠾⢟⡛⣍⣩⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⠙⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⣀⢤⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣠⡞⠱⠀⠀⠚⠒⢂⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢸⠇⢳⣤⣾⣟⣯⢿⡽⠞⣩⣶⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢶⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢛⠋⠂⠀⣀⣠⣴⣾⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣞⣽⣾⡟⠋⣩⡯⣪⡽⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣦⣤⣄⣆⣩⣑⢒⡠⣀⡡⣄⣮⣼⣿⣻⢻⣿⡽⣿⣻⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠈⠉⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⣶⣿⡿⣿⣿⣻⠟⠈⠳⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⡞⠉⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣸⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣟⣋⣉⣉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢀⡿⢦⣙⠉⢸⣿⣿⢿⡷⣛⣥⣤⣤⣴⣿⣽⣯⣿⣟⣛⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣀⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣛⣛⢿⡉⣱⡿⠟⠋⠉⠙⠻⢷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢸⠷⣴⣿⣶⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠋⠐⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣍⠙⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠯⣞⣩⡷⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠛⢦⣼⡟⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡹⣿⠟⡼⢩⠟⠢⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣻⣿⣿⣿⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⢶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠠⠇⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣜⢫⣴⣨⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡆⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⡤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢳⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⢿⣯⣹⣿⡀⢀⡄⡀⡱⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⣨⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⣧⡐⣆⣀⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⢿⣇⣝⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣯⣖⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠻⣿⡿⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⣰⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⠼⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢠⣿⢿⣿⣿⡿⣥⢻⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠈⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠁⢀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢲⠁⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⣸⡇⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢋⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠣⠙⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠟⡻⣿⣷⣦⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠉⠹⣧⠀⠱⡀⠔⡙⢻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠹⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⣷⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣆⡢⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⡙⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⠋⠹⠿⠿⣿⣭⣽⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣦⣴⣷⡠⠣⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠀⠀⢠⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠐⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠛⠒⠲⠤⢤⣘⣿⣿⠖⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠶⢦⢼⡛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢇⠀⠀⠀⠑⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠈⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠢⡀⠀⠀⢡⠙⣿⡄⠀⣀⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⡟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢋⡉⠌⠉⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢄⠀⢣⡹⣿⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⡙⢦⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⣼⡿⠊⠁⠀⣀⣀⣀⣐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⢱⡹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⢿⣿⡣⠁⠀⠛⣤⠀⠄⠂⠀⢀⣼⠟⢀⣴⡞⠁⣠⣿⣿⣇⡱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⣤⠤⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⢵⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠤⣤⣭⣑⣒⠢⠀⠻⣄⣀⣴⣿⡏⠠⢹⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⡑⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣀⣸⣿⣿⡀⠉⣷⣦⣼⣿⠿⠛⣀⣷⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣽⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠣⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⡁⢈⣿⣷⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣼⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⣯⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠣⠀⣠⠊⢻⣿⣷⡿⠟⢏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣤⣾⣿⠿⣦⣀⠀⠑⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡴⠓⠢⢤⣄⣀⣀⠀⠀⡶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠟⠋⠁⠀⠹⣿⣦⡐⢄⢓⣦⠔⡪⠛⠁⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠈⠑⢫⡭⠇⡉⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⣶⣦⢿⣿⣶⣶⠶⡞⣋⡛⢦⣄⠀⠐⢅⠙⢦⡐⢠⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⡇⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣊⡿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠈⠹⢦⡈⠳⣦⡀⠁⢢⡙⢦⡈⠄⠛⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠁⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡆⢬⢬⣧⣺⠉⠢⡑⢎⡁⠆⡘⢢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⡇⢸⠀⠈⢿⠀⠀⠈⠢⡙⢦⡁⢊⠸⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⢸⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⣵⡇⢸⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⡙⢆⡡⠌⢲⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣽⣳⢇⢸⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢌⠳⡌⡐⠸⣧⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢹⢾⣹⡾⢘⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⠆⠘⢤⠃⠼⣧⠀⠀
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new md murder drones v silly v murder drones dot art text art ascii art

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.

new a plankton family story NeuroFabulous v

JUST A TOUCH v
(Autistic author)


Hanna's confusion is clear
as she watches Karen crouch
before Plankton, her hand hovering
an inch from his shoulder.
"Plankton, sweetie," Karen says,
her voice a gentle coax. "It's just
me." No indication from Plankton
though.

Hanna's eyes dart from
Karen to Plankton and back,
trying to piece together what
has happened. "What's wrong with
him?" she whispers.

"He's just overwhelmed,"
Karen says, her voice tight with
frustration.

Hanna looks 
from Karen 
to Plankton,
his body rigid.

"What happened?"
she asks again, her voice
laced with concern. Karen
sighs heavily, her eyes
full of pain. "Plankton
has Acquired Autism."

The words hang in
the air like a heavy
cloud, casting a shadow
over the room. Hanna's
face falls, her hand
covering her mouth in shock.

"Oh no," she murmurs,
realizing her mistake. "I didn't know."
Her eyes dart to Plankton,
his body still frozen, his
gaze vacant. "I'm so sorry."
She says, reaching for him
again as Karen's.

Karen's hand shoots out,
stopping her mid-air. "No, don't,"
she says firmly. "He's hypersensitive
now. Sometimes touch can be...
painful."

Hanna's hand retreats, her eyes
widening. "I didn't know," she
whispers, her voice filled with regret.
"I just wanted to be friendly."

Karen's expression softens slightly.
"It's okay," she says, her voice
calming. "You couldn't have
known." But Plankton remains
still, his eye unblinking.

"Plankton," Karen whispers,
her hand reaching for his.
He doesn't flinch this time,
his body still as stone. She
squeezes gently, hoping the
familiar gesture will bring him
back. "You're safe at home."

Hanna watches, her
heart heavy with guilt. She had
no idea her enthusiasm could
have such a profound effect on him.
"What can I do?" she asks,
her voice shaky.

Karen looks up, her eyes
tired. "Just give us some
space," she says. "Let me...
let me help him."

Hanna nods, her own screen
brimming with unshed tears.
"Of course," she murmurs, backing
away.

Plankton remains frozen,
his gaze locked on the floor.
Karen wraps her arms around
his shoulders.

"It's okay, Plankton," she whispers,
her voice soothing. "You're
safe here." She rubs his arm
lightly, the way she's learned
not to cause him discomfort.

He doesn't move, but she
can feel the tension slowly
leaving his body. His antennae
lift slightly.

"You're okay," Karen repeats,
her voice a gentle murmur. "Just
breathe."

Slowly, Plankton's body begins
to relax, his antennae
twitching as he takes in her
words. Hanna watches from
a distance. "I'm sorry," she says,
her voice quieter. "I didn't
know. I didn't mean to..."
Her words trail off, but Karen
simply nods, her eyes not
leaving Plankton's. "It's okay,"
she repeats. "We're still
learning."

Hanna sits on the edge of the
sofa, her eyes never leaving
them. She feels like an intruder,
a bull in a china shop. She
had come to offer support,
but instead, she'd triggered something
deep within him. The room
feels heavy with unspoken words.

"I didn't mean to push him,"
she says, her voice barely a whisper.
"I just didn't know." Karen's grip
on Plankton tightens slightly,
but she doesn't look up. "It's okay,"
she says again, her voice a lifeline
in the quiet. "It's a lot to take in."

Hanna nods, her screen filling
with tears she quickly wipes away.
"But I'll learn," she says, her
determination clear. "I want to be
a good friend to both of you."

Plankton's antennae quiver, a
faint glimmer of recognition
flickering in his eye. Karen
nods.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her voice
barely audible. Hanna watches
as Karen's gentle touch seems to
break through the barriers Plankton
has erected. His body slowly
unfurls from his rigid stance,
his gaze shifting from the floor
to meet Karen's.

"It's okay," Karen repeats,
her voice a balm. "Let's go to
our room. You need to rest."
Plankton nods slightly, allowing
her to guide him away from
the living room.

Hanna watches them go, her heart
aching for her friend. She knows
she's overstayed her welcome,
but she can't bear to leave without
apologizing to Plankton. "I'll go,"
she says, her voice thick.

Karen turns, her screen
swimming with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Hanna," she says,
her voice hoarse.

Hanna nods, her own eyes
shimmering. "Call me if you
need anything," she says, her
voice thick with emotion. She
stands, her legs feeling like
jelly, and makes her way
to the door, her heart
heavy with the weight of
what she's done.

The moment the door clicks shut,
Karen feels the tension in the
room dissipate slightly. Plankton's
body relaxes a fraction, his
eye no longer staring blankly
at the floor. She leads him
to their bedroom, the familiar
surroundings seeming to soothe
his frazzled nerves.

Once inside, she helps him
into bed, the softness of the
covers a stark contrast to the
rigidness of his body. She pulls
the curtains shut, dimming the
lights to reduce the sensory
stimulation. Plankton's antennae
twitch, a sign of his relief.
Karen sits beside him.

"I'm sorry," she whispers,
her voice thick with emotion.
"I didn't know she'd..."

Plankton's gaze meets hers,
his eye less intense now. "It's okay,"
he says, his voice monotone. "Just need...
quiet."

Karen nods, her hand
still resting on his shoulder.
"I'm here," she says. "I'm always here."

new just a touch hannacore v

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Sheldon J. Plankton/Karen Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Sheldon J. Plankton/Karen Emojis & Symbols NEW REALITY v(Autistic author)Karen watches him fo

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