Ableisms Emojis & Text

Here are some idioms that use the word "chip":

Chip on your shoulder
An informal expression that means someone feels inferior or believes they've been treated unfairly. For example, "You will never make friends if you go around with a chip on your shoulder". 
 
Chip off the old block
A person who resembles one parent in appearance or behavior. For example, "His son is just a chip off the old block". 
 
Chip in
To contribute money, time, or advice to a cause or fund. For example, "Every member of the team chipped in to help pay for the coach's surgery". 
 
Cash in your chips
To sell something, such as investments, to raise money. It can also be used as slang to mean to die. 
 
Bargaining chip
Something that can be used to gain an advantage when trying to make a deal or an agreement. For example, "The workers used the threat of a strike as a bargaining chip in their negotiations". 
 
Blue chip
A term that comes from poker, where chips used in gambling have different colors to represent different dollar amounts. A blue chip is typically the one with the highest value. 
 
call in (one's) chipscall in your chipscash (one's) chips incash incash in (one's) chipscash in chipscash in one's chipscash in your chipscheap as chipschipchip (away) at (something)chip and dipchip atchip awaychip buttychip inchip in for (something)chip in on (something)chip in with (something)chip in with (something) for (something)chip offchip off the old blockchip off the old block, achip on one's shoulderchip on one's shoulder, to have achip on shoulderchip shotchip upchipschips and dipchips are down, thechips with everythingcow chipcow chipsget a chip on (one's) shoulderhand in (one's) chipshas had its chipshave a chip on (one's) shoulderhave a chip on your shoulderhave had (one's) chipshave had your chipsin the chipsin the moneylet the chips fall (where they may)let the chips fall where they maymint chocolate chippass in (one's) chipspiss on (someone's) chipsput a chip on (one's) shoulderput all (of) (one's) chips on the tablespit chipsthe chips are downwhen the chips are down

"All that and a bag of chips"---this phrase is usually a slam against someone who is conceited or arrogant. Perhaps the phrase originates in the concept of completeness; a meal complete with a "bag of chips".Aug 11, 2014

new chipcore studycore chip

██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
███████████████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓███████▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓███████████▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓█████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████████████████████████████████▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓██████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓███▓▓█▓▒▒▓████████▒░░░░░▒▓██████▓▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▓██████████▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▒▒▓███▓▒▒▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▒▒▒░▒▓▒▒▒████████▓▓█████▓▓▓████▓▒███████▒▓███████████▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓▓▓████▓▒▒▓▒▒▓▓█▓
█▓▒▒▒█▒▓▒▒▒████████▓▒▒██████▒▒████▓▒▓██████▒▒███████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▓▒▒█▓▒░░▒▓▓▒▒▓█▓
█▒▒▓████▓▒▓████████▓▒▓██████▒▒████▒░▓██████▓▒████████████▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▓▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓█▓
█▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓████████▓▓█████████████▓▓███████▓▒▓███████████▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓▒░░▒▓█▓▒▓▒▒▒▓█▓
█▒░░░░▒▓▒▒▓████████▓▓▓██████▓▒▓███▓▒▓██████▓▒▓███████████▓▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓█▓
█▓▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▓████████▓░▒██████▓▒▓███▓▒▓██████▓░▓███████████▓▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒░▒▓▒▒▒▓█▓▓
█▓▓▓▓███▓▒▒████████▓▒▒▓█████▓▒▓████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓████████████▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▒▒░▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓▓█▓▓▓
▓█▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▓████████▓▒░▒░▒░▒▓███████▓▒▓▓▓▓██████████████▓▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓████▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓██▓▓█▓▓▒▒██████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓██▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒░░░░░▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▒▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒░▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
███▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓█▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
██▓▒▒▒███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓█▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▒▒▒▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
█████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓
████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓
▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓
▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓
▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓
▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█
▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒
▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▒▒▒▒█████████▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▒▒▒▒█████████▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓░░▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒░░▒▒▓▓██████▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓░░░▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▒▓████████▓░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒░░░░░▒▒░░▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓█████████▒░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓█████████▒░░░░░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓██████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒░░▒█████████▓▒░░░░▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓███████████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░▒▓█████████▒▒░▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒
█████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███████████████▓▓▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▓████▓▒▒░▒▒▒▒░░▒▓█████████▓▒▒▒░▒▓▒▒▒░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒
█████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓████████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
█████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████████▓▓▓▓██████████▓▒▓▓▓▓█▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
█████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

new chip plankton Chip Plankton II chip

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░██████████████████████████████████████████████████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████▓▓███████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒████████▓░▒▒░▓█████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████▓▒▓████▓░▒████▓▒▒▓███▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████▓█████████████▓████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████████▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓███████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░░░░░░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▓██▓▒░░░░▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒██▓▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒██▓░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░██▒░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░░░░░░░░▒█▓░░░░░░░░░░░█▓░░░░░██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██░▓██▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓█▓░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░░░▓█░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░▒█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████▒▒░░░░░▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒░░░██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░▒███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░░░░░░░▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░▒██▒░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▓░░░▓█▓░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░░░░░██░░░░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓█░░░██░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░░░░▓█░░░░░░░░░░█▓░░░░░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒░░░░░░░██░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░▓█░░░░░▓██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒███▓▒░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▓░░▓█░░░░░██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓█▒░░░░▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░██▒░▒█▒░░░░▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▓▓█░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░▓██▓░░░▓█░░░░▒█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓██░░░░█▓░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░▓█▓░░░░░░▓█░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░█▓░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▓██▒░░▒██▒░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░▒█▓▒▓░░░░░▒█▓░░░░█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░██░░▓█▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░██▓▒░░░░░▒█▓░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░▒█▓█▓▓█▒▓█░▒█▒░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓█░░▓█▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓█▓░▒▓░▒▒▒▓▓█▒░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░▒██▒▓█▒▓██▓█░░░░░▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒███▓█▓▒██▒██▓███▒░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░▓█████▓▓▓░░░░░░░░▓█████▓▓▒░░░▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▓████▓░░░░▒█▓▒█▓████▓░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓████████████████████▓▓▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒██▒▓▓░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓░░░░░░░▒█▓░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓█░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

new Chip Plankton II chip plankton chip

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⡤⠶⠖⠒⠒⠶⢤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠶⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠳⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣤⠤⣦⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠶⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢤⣤⣤⠤⠤⠶⠖⠚⠛⠉⠉⠀⣸⡏⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⠀⣰⡿⢿⡆⠀⢸⣿⢦⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠁⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⢞⣫⣭⣭⣉⡙⢿⣄⠘⣿⣄⠀⣿⡶⢛⣉⣉⡙⠳⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡝⣧⠈⠻⣦⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣄⣀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⡤⠤⠤⠶⠶⠒⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⣧⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣻⡇⠀⠀⠺⣯⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡆⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣾⠟⠀⢸⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢡⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠈⠻⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠋⢿⣆⡛⠿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢋⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠻⢦⣍⣉⣉⣭⡶⠛⣽⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠳⢦⣄
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠀⣈⠛⠶⠤⠤⠴⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠄⠒⣰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⠞⠋
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢳⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⣄⡓⠄⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠶⠋⠉⠛⠒⠒⠒⠚⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢳⡶⠶⠤⢤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⠤⠤⠶⠖⠚⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⢶⣆⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⢠⡿⠚⠛⣾⠛⠋⠉⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣟⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⠴⠶⠛⠋⠁⢸⡟⣠⡾⠃⠀⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⢀⣟⢦⡀⠀⠀⠸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⣇⠈⣲⡄⠀⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⢤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣈⣇⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⠶⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⣶⣦⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠒⢰⠆⠀⠐⠃⢒⠐⠂⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new chip fpe cute chip fpe dot art text art ascii art

💬

new chat

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒░░░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒
▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░
▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░▒███████████████████████████████████▓▓▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░▒▓███████████▓▓▓▓████████████████████████▒░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░▒██████████▒░░░░░░▒▓████▒░░░░░▒██████████▒░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░▒█████████░░▒▓██▓▓░░▓█▒░▒▓▓▓▓▒░░▓████████▒░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒░▒████████▓░░▒████▓░░▓▓▒░░████▓▒░▒████████▒░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░░▓████████▓▒▒▓████▓▒▒██▒▒▓█████▒░▓████████▒░░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▒▓████████▓░▒▓████▒░▒▓▓▒░▓████▓▒▒█████████▒░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▒█████████▒░▒▓████▒░▒▓▒░░▓████▓░░▓████████▒░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▒██████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████▒░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▒███████████▓▒░░░░▒█████▓░░░░░▒▓██████████▒░▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▒████████████████████████████████████████▓░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▒███████▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████▓░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░▒▓░▒████████▒▓████████████████████▒▓████████▒░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▓▒▒█████████▒▓██████████████████▓▓█████████▒░░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░░░░░░▒▓▒▒██████████▓▒███████████████▓▒▓██████████▒░░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒████████████▓▒▓██████████▓▒▓████████████░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓█████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█████████████▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░▒▒████████████████████████████████████▓▒░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓██████████████████████▓▓▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒░░▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒░░░░░▒▓▓███▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░▓▓▒▓▓▓░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▓█▒▓▓░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░▒▒░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▒▒▓▓█▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░▓▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░▒▒▒░▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓█▓▒▒▒▒░░▒▒░░░░░▒▒▓▓▒░░░▒▒░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▒▒██▒▒░░░░░░▒▓▓█▒░░░░░▒▒▓▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▒▒▓█▒▒░░░░░░▒▓▓█▓▓▓▒▒█░█▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▒▒▓▓▓▒░░░░░░░▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒█▒█▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▒▒▒▓▒▒░░░░░░░░▓▓▓▓▒▒▒█▒█▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
░░░▒▒▓▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░█▒▒▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒█▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒▓░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░
░▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒░░▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░▓▓▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█░█▒▒▓▒░░░▒▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░▒▓▓▒▒░░░
░▒▒▒▒▓▓▒░▒▒░░▒▒▒░░░░░▓▓▒░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░█▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▒▓▓▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░
░▒▓▓▓▒░▒▓▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░▒▓░▒▒░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░█▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░░▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▒▓▓░░▓▒░░▒▓▒▒░░░░░░▒▒▒░▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░
░░░▒▒▒░▒▓░▒▒▒░░░░░░░▒▒░░▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒█▒▓▓▒░░░▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒░░▒▒░░▒▒▒▒░░
░░░░▒▒▒▓▒░▒▒░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▓░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░░▒▒░░▒▒░░░
░░░░░░░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▒▓░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▒░░▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░▓▓▓▒█▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒░░░▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░▒░▒░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░░▒░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒░▒▒▒░▒░░░░░░░░░▒░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒░▓▒░░░░░░░░▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░▓▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒░░░░░▒▒░▒▒▒░░▒▒▒░░░▒░▒▒░░░░░▓▒▒░░▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░░░▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▓▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▓▓▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▓███▓▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒░░░░░░▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██▓▒▓██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████▓▒▒▓████▓▒▓██▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▓███▓██▓██████▓▓▓██▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███████▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▒▒███▓██████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████▓▓▓▓▓███████▒▒███▓▓████████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█████████▓▓▓▓▓▓███████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒░
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

new chip plankton code page 437 chip

💄⋆.ೃ࿔*:･→αттєηтιση!╰┈➤gσѕѕιρ𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚💄

new chat talk rumour malicious gossip berryavenue gossip speak tattle

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⠀⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣶⠶⠿⠛⠛⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣧⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣾⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⣶⣿⡇⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡿⠷⠶⣶⣤⣤⣀⣀⡹⣷⡀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠻⠿⠇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⡉⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣧⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⢾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠟⠹⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠶⢦⣄⣠⣤⡤⠴⠶⠟⠋⠁⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡏⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠶⠞⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠲⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣼⡇⠀⢿⣶⣄⣤⣴⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⢟⣭⣶⣶⣽⣿⣄⠈⢿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢠⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⡷⠦⣿⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠈⠛⠶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡇⠀⠀⢻⣍⡛⠛⣹⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠳⢦⣤⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⡤⠶⠚⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣦⠀⠻⠿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⢉⣾⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠞⠛⢁⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢰⣿⠁⠀⠻⢿⣍⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠈⠻⠶⠦⠤⠶⠾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠾⠉⠙⠋⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⣰⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢀⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⡴⠶⠚⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣈⠉⣻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⣽⠛⠉⠉⠉⢉⣧⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⣩⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣄⠀⢠⡟⢀⡞⠛⠋⠉⣏⢣⡀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⣿⠀⠀⢀⡿⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡶⠟⣿⢀⡿⠁⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⢧⡆⠹⢄⢸⡆⠀⠀⢀⣴⠿⢿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⡇⠀⠀⢺⠁⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣤⣤⠶⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⢹⡟⠁⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢻⠀⡸⠃⢻⣤⣾⠋⠁⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⡇⠀⠀⠸⣆⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠈⠁⠀⠘⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⣀⠙⠻⠿⢿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠻⣷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠻⢷⣶⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡴⠟⢻⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠻⠛⠻⠿⠿⠛⣿⠏⠉⠉⢡⣿⠿⣿⡗⠲⠶⠶⠶⢲⣶⠿⣿⠁⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⣠⣴⡿⠋⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠋⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠃⠀⠀⣿⣀⣠⣴⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠛⠟⠛⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢻

new cute silly adorable chip dot art text art ascii art

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 1
Chip, adopted at birth
by Karen and Plankton,
came home from summer
camp an hour early since
the traffic was better than
originally expected.

The house was unusually quiet,
his parent's bedroom door ajar.
He overheard Karen talking to
Plankton in a hushed tone. "It's 
ok, sweetie. You're going to be ok."
Chip decides to eavesdrop on them.
He saw Plankton sitting in bed,
his body still, eye unblinking. Karen
was stroking his hand, looking
to calm.

Chip tiptoed closer to the door.
Karen's voice grew clearer. "It's ok,
just a little longer, and you'll be
back with me." Plankton's hand
twitched slightly under hers. Chip
swallowed hard. It wasn't his
imagination; something was off.

Curiosity gnawed at him as
he listened, his heart thumping
louder than the ticking clock.
Plankton's face remained frozen,
his eye vacant. Chip had never
seen him like this before. Was he
sick? In pain? Chip felt his own
body tense up as he strained to
make sense of the scene.
"Remember," Karen whispered,
"it's like daydreaming, but your
body is here with me."

Chip leaned in closer, trying to
make out the words. "It's ok,"
she repeated, her voice soothing.
"I'm here. You're safe." Plankton's
hand moved again, slightly, as if
to squeeze hers back. It dawned on
Chip that this was like a regular
event for them behind closed doors.

The mystery grew heavier in the
air. Chip had heard of people
fainting, getting dizzy, or even
having seizures before, but never
anything so... quiet. His mind
raced with questions, each more
confusing than the last. What was
happening to Dad? Why hadn't
his parents ever mentioned this?

He watched, unnoticed, as 
Plankton's chest rose and fell
evenly, but he was utterly 
unresponsive.

Chip's curiosity turned to 
concern. He knew he should 
probably leave, but his feet
were rooted to the floor.

The room was dimly lit, the curtains
closed to keep the afternoon sun
from piercing through, as Plankton
finally starts to stir. His eye blinks
slowly, as if waking from a deep
sleep, and his hand grips Karen's
firmly despite his grogginess.

"Welcome back," Karen says with
relief, her voice no longer a
whisper. She kisses his forehead
gently.

Chip's eyes widened. He'd never
seen his dad come out of such a
strange state before. It was eerie,
yet somehow comforting to see
his mom's tender care. He felt like
an intruder, but his worry for
his dad overpowered his guilt. 

Plankton's voice was weak when
he finally spoke. "Was it... I had
another one didn't I.."

Karen nodded solemnly, her
grip on his hand tightening. "It's
okay. You're okay now. I still
think we should tell Chip abou–"

"No," Plankton cut her off, his
voice stronger now, but filled with
a hint of fear. "Not yet." Chip held his
breath, not wanting to alert them
to his presence.

The room remained silent for a
moment, thick with the weight
of the unspoken. Chip's heart
raced as he tried to piece together
the puzzle of his father's condition.
He felt a twinge of guilt for not
noticing anything amiss before,
but the scene was so surreal, so unlike
anything he'd ever witnessed.

Plankton took a deep breath and
shifted in bed, the sheets rustling
beneath him. "We can't," he said,
his voice gaining strength. "He's
no-" "Plankton, your disability is
a part of you," Karen interrupted, her
tone firm but gentle. "Our son deserves
to know, to understand."

Chip's stomach clenched. Disability?
Was that what this was? He felt
a mix of fear and confusion. What
kind of disability could cause
this?

He leaned closer to the crack in the
door, his heart thumping like a
drum in his chest. Plankton looked
up at Karen, his single eye filled
with a determination Chip hadn't
seen before in such a vulnerable
moment. "Karen," he said, his voice
steady, "Chip might sta-" "We can't
keep it from him forever. He's
not a little kid anymore."

He leaned in further, his ear
pressed to the crack in the door.
"Karen," Plankton's voice was
insistent, "Chip won't understand.
I don't want him to see me like this."

Karen sighed, her hand stroking
his arm in a comforting manner.
"He's growing up."

"He's not grown up," Plankton protested,
his voice still weak. "What if he decides
not to love me anymore?"

Karen's eyes searched 
Plankton's, filled with
sorrow and love. "Chip 
loves you for who you
are, not for what you 
can or cannot do. You 
know that."

The silence grew heavier,
but Plankton's expression didn't
ease. Chip's mind raced, trying to
understand what he was hearing.
Disability? How could his dad have
a disability? He had always been so
active, so strong, so...normal?

new to see or not to see chip plankton 1

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 2
Chip notices his mom
getting up, so he hurries
to the living room.

The floorboards creak as Karen
enters, her eyes widening in
surprise. "Chip? You're home
already!" She tries to sound
casual, but her voice wavers.
Chip's face flushes, his heart
pounding. "Yeah, the bus got
here early." He glances away,
his eyes unable to meet hers.
"How was camp?" Karen asks,
trying to keep the conversation
normal despite the tension that
now filled the room. She knew he
might've heard them, but she isn't 
sure how much.

Chip swallows hard, his eyes 
flitting from the floor to the ceiling.
"It was fun," he responds, his voice
not quite as cheerful as he'd like it
to be. He couldn't shake the image
of his dad sitting there, so still. "What
was happening in there?" he asks,
his curiosity and concern spilling over.

Karen's face falls, and she sighs,
sitting down beside him on the
sofa. "It's something we've been
trying to keep from you, sweetie,"
she says, her eyes filled with a
mixture of sadness and regret.
"But I think it's time you knew."

With a gentle nudge, she stands
and takes his hand. "Come with
me to our room," she says, leading
the way. Chip follows, his heart
thumping in his chest.

Plankton sits up in bed, his
expression a mix of shock and
confusion as he sees Chip.

"Dad, what's going on?" Chip's voice is
steady, but his eyes are wide with
concern. Plankton's cheeks redden,
his hands fidgeting with the bed
covers. "Chip," Karen starts, her voice
careful, "you know how sometimes
people are just... different?"

Plankton stammers, his eye darting
between Chip and Karen. "It's, uh, it's
nothing," he says, his voice strained.
"I just had a little... quirk. That's all."
But Chip can see the lie in his eye,
the way his shoulders tense up like
he's trying to shrink away from the
truth.

Karen sits down next to him, her
hands folded in her lap. "Plankton,
Chip heard us. It's better if we tell
him ourselves." Plankton's face
twists in a silent plea, but she
continues, her voice calm yet firm.
"It's time, sweetie."

The room seems to shrink around
them as Plankton's eye widens,
his body stiffening in the bed. He's
been hiding his autism for years,
fearful of how Chip might react, of
the misunderstanding he might face.
"Chip," Karen starts, "your dad has
something called autism."

The words hang in the air, thick
like smoke from a forgotten candle.
Chip frowns, trying to grasp the
concept. Autism? He's heard of it
before, but never connected it to
his dad. Plankton's face is a
swirl of emotions - fear, guilt,
and a desperate hope that Chip
will still respect him.

"It's okay, Plankton," Karen says,
placing a reassuring hand on his
shoulder. "We'll get through
this together." She looks at Chip,
waiting for his reaction.

Plankton's eye darts around the
room, his cheeks flaming red.
He's flabbergasted, his mind
whirling with fear and regret.
This was the moment he'd
been dreading, the moment he'd
tried to avoid for so long.

Plankton starts to rock side to side.
This is his stimming, a behavior
common among autistic individuals
that helps them cope with overwhelming
sensory input or emotions.
Chip watches, his confusion
deepening. "Don't stare, Chip!" 
Plankton snaps.

"But what's that, Dad?" Chip points
to the rocking, his voice tentative.
"Is everything okay?" Plankton
freezes mid-motion, looking
angrily at Chip. "Dad, why are yo--"
"It's none of your business, okay?"
Plankton snaps, his voice harsher
than Chip's ever heard.

Karen steps in, placing a hand
on Plankton's arm to calm him.
"Chip, it's okay," she says soothingly.
"Your dad's just trying to deal
with things in his own way."

But Chip can't ignore the anger
in his dad's voice. It's a stark
contrast to the dad he's always
known, the man who would laugh
at his jokes. "Mmm," Plankton
hums. Another stim of his.

"What's 'mmm' Dad?" Chip 
asks. "Is 'mmm' becau-"
"Don't mock me!" Plankton's
voice cuts through the air, his
anger palpable. Chip's eyes
widen, his heart dropping. He's
never seen his dad like this. 
Karen intervenes, turning
to Chip.

"When your dad makes that
sound, it's called 'stimming',"
she explains gently. "It's a way
his brain helps him process
information and feelings. It's
like a self-soothing technique. It's
part of who he is, and it's something
he doesn't always realize he's
doing. He doesn't like for people
to point it out because it makes
him feel... different."

Chip nods slowly, trying to
understand. "But I..."

Karen cuts him off gently. "It's
important to respect your dad's
boundaries, especially when it comes
to his autism." She looks at Plankton,
his rocking slowing down. "It's a
part of him that helps him cope, not
to judge or interrupt. Because when
it comes to stimming, it's a personal
and private moment for him. I don't even
interrupt him when he's doing it, unless
it's absolutely necessary."

Chip nods, but he's still 
curious. "When do you
know how he stims, then?"
he asks his mom. She smiles
gently.

"Well, sweetie, it's all about
knowing your dad," she says.
"I've learned his cues over
the years. When he starts
rocking or making muttering
sound, it's like his way of telling
he needs a little space to sort
things out. It's his private moment
to cope."

Chip nods, processing this new
piece of information. "Does he
always know when he's doing it?"

Karen sighs, her gaze softening
as she looks at Plankton. "Sometimes
yes, sometimes no. It's like... it's like
his brain is in a different place,
and he needs these movements or
sounds to bring him back to us."

Chip nods, watching his dad's
rocking slow to a stop. He looks
back at Karen, his eyes full of
questions. "But when he stims
what do we do?"

Karen's gaze meets Plankton's,
and she smiles reassuringly at him.
"Just give him space," she says,
turning to Chip. "And if you're
worried, just come find me. We'll
talk about it, okay? Just don't push
him when he's like this, because it
can be really overwhelming for him."

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving
his dad's face. He's trying to
understand, trying to reconcile
the image of his dad rocking
back and forth in bed with the
man he's always known. He's seen
his dad as invincible, as a rock.
And now, here he is, vulnerable.

new to see or not to see chip plankton chipcore

⡆⠀⠀⠙⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠾⠋⠉⣀⡴⠞⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⣰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠆⢀⡜⠁⣀⡴⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣆⠀⠀⠈⠀⠰⠀⣀⣴⡾⠏⠁⣀⡴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠆⢠⣮⣠⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠋⣀⣴⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠀⠟⠉⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣷⡒⠀⠀⠀⠹⢾⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⠶⠶⠚⠉⠉⠉⠛⠶⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣁⣤⡴⠶⠒⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⠶⠞⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠶⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⣠⡾⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣟⣡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⡤⠤⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠳⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⡸⢫⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⣴⣿⣭⣾⣿⣿⣷⣦⣍⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣄⣰⠛⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⣃⣴⠟⣩⣤⣤⣤⣌⠛⣦⡹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⡟⣡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠘⡇⠻⣧⡀⠀⠀⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠤⠖⠋⢹⡿⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠈⠙⠳⢤⣿⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢰⡏⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁
⠀⠀⠀⠴⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⢹⣄⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢰⡿⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠞⠁⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠹⣦⣉⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⣁⣴⠿⠁⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣷⣿⣆⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⣴⠟⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠿⣆⠀⠀⠉⠛⠒⠒⠒⠒⠚⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣆⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠙⠳⠦⣭⣉⣩⠶⠿⠉⠀⣶⠞⠉⣿⠀⠀⠹⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠈⠙⢳⡶⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠋⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⡤⠶⠶⠒⠋⠉⠉⠉⠛⠶⢦⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⣦⡀⠀
⢦⣴⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡤⠶⠶⠚⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠛⠓⠲⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠾⠿⣆
⣶⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⠶⠶⠶⣶⠶⠶⠾⢷⣦⣀⣀⣀⣴⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼
⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⡿
⣏⣀⣤⣤⣤⠶⠖⠛⠛⠋⠹⣇⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣄⣀⣤⣤⡤⠴⠖⠚⠛⠋⢻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀
⣿⣿⣿⠁⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡄⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⣠⣤⡤⠴⠶⠛⢛⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣛⡁⠀⠀
⣿⣿⠏⣸⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠙⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⠟⠋⠛⠛⠛⠻⠿⢿
⣟⣣⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡟⡀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⣻⣿⣿⠃⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡼⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⣾⠃⢀⣤⡾⠋⣼⣿⣿⡟⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣦⡀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⡿⠿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⢺⣿⡀⠀⠻⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠙⢿⣄⠀⠀⣼⠃⡇⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣷⣤⡀⠀⢠⣾⣿
⣧⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣤⡟⠈⠁⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣧⡂⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⡶⠾⠿⠿⠛⠻⢿⣶⣿⠏⠙
⠁⠈⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠓⠶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡋⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣾⡏⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀
⠀⠀⢀⣀⣴⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣏⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉

new fpe chip cute dot art text art ascii art

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 3

Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous

https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all

Read the Autism And All one first!


Plankton's mouth feels
like it's been stuffed with
cotton, his tongue thick.
He tries to form words. 
"Ma...ma..." he
whispers, his voice a
slur. Karen's eyes light up at
the sound. "You're ok,"
she says, her voice a
balm to his frayed nerves.
"You had your teeth out.
You might feel funny for a
little while." He looks at
Karen, his eye searching hers.
"Wh...wh...whath?" he stammers,
his speech jumbled.

Karen leans closer, her
smile reassuring. "Your wisdom
teeth, Plankton. They took
them out so you won't have
any trouble with them later."
But the words don't
make sense to him, his
brain still fuzzy from
the anesthesia.

He tries to speak again.
"Wi...wis...wis..." he stammers.
Karen nods.

"Wisdom teeth," Karen repeats
slowly. "They're out now.
You're all done!"

The words swirl in Plankton's
head, not quite making sense.
He feels his mouth, the
cottony feeling replaced
by the pressure of gauze.
He giggles. "My moufs
fweel funmy," he says, his
words slurred.

Karen laughs softly. "It's
because of the surgery,
sweetie. Your mouth is
healing." She coos. "I fink I
sownd funny," he says, his
eye glinting with mirth.

The nurse returns, checking
his vitals. "How are you
feeling?" she asks.

Plankton looks up, his eye
glassy. "Wibidy wobidy," he
slurs, his speech a mess of
sounds and syllables. Karen
can't help but laugh, despite
the situation. "You're doing
great," she says with love for his
confused silliness.
The nurse chuckles, too.
"It's the anesthesia," she
explains. "It'll wear off
soon."

His gaze darts
to his own fingers.
"Wook at my fingews,"
he says to Karen, his speech
slurred from the anesthesia.
Karen nods, smiling. "Oh
yeah?" Plankton nods,
his cognitive abilities still
under the fog. "Yeth," he
slurs, trying to sit up. "Take
it easy," she says. "You're still
woozy."

The room feels like it's spinning
as Plankton tries to sit up, his
brain struggling to keep up with
his body's movements. "Wha...?"
he mumbles, his gaze unfocused.

But Plankton's curiosity
wins out. He reaches up to
touch a finger to his mouth,
feeling the thickness of the
gauze. "Fingews," he repeats,
his voice still slurred.

Karen laughs with affection. "It's ok
honey," she says. "You're
doing great." Plankton looks around
the room, his eye still
unfocused. "Wheh...wheah awe
we?" he mumbles.

The nurse explains patiently,
"You're in the recovery room
at the dentist's office. You
just had your wisdom teeth
removed." But the words don't
quite register, and he nods
slowly, his mind racing
with confusion and curiosity with
wonder, taking in the world
as if seeing it for the first
time. The colors, the shapes,
the sounds—everything is
fresh and new. He looks at his
hands as if it's an alien appendage.

"Wook ath dis," he says to Karen,
his voice a mix of amazement
and bewilderment. His fingers
spread wide, then close into
a fist, then open again.
"Wook whath I can do!"

Karen swells with love.
It's like watching him discover
the world anew, like a baby
seeing his own hands for the first
time. She can't help but smile
at his innocent fascination.

The nurse nods at Karen.
"You can take him home
now. Just make sure he rests
and takes it easy."

Karen nods, her smile
never leaving her screen.
She helps Plankton up. 
"Hi," he says, his voice a 
slurred mumble.

As they make their way
to the car, Plankton's
steps are unsteady, his 
body still fighting the 
remnants of the anesthesia.
He looks around with
wonderment, as if seeing
the world in a new light.
"Mowah?" he asks, pointing
to the sky.

Karen laughs gently. "It's
the sun, honey. It's ok."
Plankton nods, his mind
trying to piece together
the puzzle of his reality.
"We're gonna pick up Chip
from the park. He's with
Hanna.." "Chip...Chip, Chip," he 
repeats, the word rolling off
his tongue.

The car ride is a blur of
sounds and sensations that
Plankton tries to filter out.
He leans his head against
the cool window, watching
the world pass by in a haze.
Karen keeps glancing back at
him in the rearview mirror,
amusement etched on her face.
"You ok?" she asks.

Plankton nods, his eye
heavy. "Tiwed," he murmurs.
"Try not to fall asleep," she says.
"Because we're almost there."

His eye drifts to the
passing scenery. Trees whiz by.
He counts the telephone poles,
his slurred voice mumbling the
numbers. "One, two, free, four..."

"Almost there," Karen says. Plankton
nods, his hand finding the seatbelt
buckle, tracing its edges. "Five,
sis, seb..."

But alas, Plankton's efforts to
stay alert are in vain. His
lid flutters and his head nods.
"Plankton, keep your eye open,"
Karen says, her voice a gentle
reminder. But his body has
other plans, succumbing to
the sedative's embrace.

"Wake up, Plankton," Karen
says, a hint of laughter in her
tone. She knows he can't help
it. His slumber is deep,
his snores a soft echo in the
car. She watches him in the
mirror, his face relaxed in
sleep. It's a rare sight.

Plankton's normally alert and
active demeanor is replaced
by a peaceful stillness that
fills the car. The surgery was
a success, yet the anesthesia
has taken its toll. 

Karen pulls into the
parking lot of the park, the
sun casting a warm glow.
"Wakey, wakey," she sings.
Plankton's snores hitch, but
his eye stays shut.

She opens the car door
and the chilly air fills the
car, carrying with it the
laughter of children playing.
"Plankton," she calls, her voice
gentle but firm. He stirs, his
body protesting the interruption.
"Chip?" he mumbles, his voice
still thick with sleep.

Karen laughs softly. "Yes,
we're here to get Chip. Time
to wake up." She reaches
over and squeezes his hand.
His eye blinks open, the
pupil dilating as he takes in
his surroundings. "Wha...?"
he mumbles, his brain still
fighting the anesthesia.

Hanna and Chip look up 
as their car approaches. 
"What happened?" Chip 
asks as he gets in the car.
Karen starts to answer,
but Plankton's slurred 
interjection stops her. 
"Dey hook my teefs!" he says,
his words a jumble.
Chip's eyes widen.
"He had his wisdom teeth
out," Karen explains.
Hanna looks at Plankton,
her expression one of
concern. "How are you
feeling?" she asks.
"Wibidy wobidy,"
he slurs. "Buh I dunno."

Karen smiles. "So, we
went to the dentist," she says,
waving bye to Hanna.
"They had to take his
wisdom teeth out." Chip
looks confused. "What does
that mean, Mom?" He asks Karen.

"Well Chip, your dad had 
some teeth that were 
gonna cause problems, 
so they took them out," 
Karen starts. "But the 
medicine they gave him 
makes him feel funny. It's 
like when you have a 
sleepover and wake up 
groggy." Chip nods. "What
medicine?" He continues.

Plankton tries to answer,
but his speech is still 
slurred. "Dey gabe me 
sumpin' to sleep," he 
mumbles, his eye
half-closed. "It's called
anesthesia," Karen says,
her voice calm and steady.
"It's what helps people not
feel pain during surgery."
Chip nods, watching his
dad with a mix of
curiosity and concern.
"But it makes him
a bit loopy," Karen adds
as they pull away.

"Chip," Plankton starts. 
"Whath thad?" "It's my 
hand, Dad," Chip answers,
confused. "Chip's hamv?" 
Plankton persists, his 
mind still fuzzy. Karen 
chuckles, seeing his 
curiosity piqued.

"Chip's hamv?" Plankton
repeats, his speech still 
slurred. Chip holds
up his hand. "It's just a 
hand, Dad," he says.
Karen laughs. "It's 
his hand, Plankton. It's ok.
You're just a bit loopy."

"Wook ath the clows," Plankton says,
lazily pointing at the clouds.
Karen smiles.
"They're just clouds," she says.

Plankton giggles,
his eye glazed with a childlike
wonder. Karen knows this phase
won't last, but she cherishes it. 

new to change the world loopycore chip

                                           ░▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒░░                                                             
                                       ░▒▒░▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░                                                        
                                   ░▒▓▒░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▒░                                                    
                                 ░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░                                                  
                               ░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░                                                
                              ░▓░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░                                              
                            ░▒▒░░░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░░▒▓░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒                                             
                           ░▓░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░▒▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░                                           
                         ░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░                                          
                       ▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░▓░ ░░░▒▒▒▒██████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░                           
         ░▒░       ░░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░▒▓████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█                            
      ░▒░░▓▒▒▓▒░░░▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░▒▓█▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓███████▒▒▓                             
     ░▒▓▓░░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓██████████████████████▓▒▓▓                             
    ░▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓███████████████████████████████▓▒▓▓                             
       ░░▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████▓▒▓▓                             
           ░░▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████▓▒▓▓                             
                ░░▓▒▒░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▓▒                             
                     ░░░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▓███████████▒█▓██████████▒█▒░███████▓▒▒█░                             
                             ▒▓▓▓█▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▓████████▒░▒░█░▒▒██████▒▒▒█▒▒▒░█████▓▒▒▓░                             
                             ▒▓▓▓▓█▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓████████▒▒▒▒▒█░▒▒▒████▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒████▓▒▒▓                              
                             ▒▓▓▓▓▓█▓███▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓███████▒▒▒▒▒███▒▒░▓███▒▒▒▒██▓▒▒▒████▓▒▓▒                              
                             ▒▓▓▓▓▓█▓███▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓██████▒▒▒▒▒█████▒▒████▒▒▒███████████▒▒▓▒                              
                             ▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓███████▓▒▒██████████████████████████▒▒▓▒                              
                             ▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████▒▒▓▒                              
                             ▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████▒▒▓▒                              
                             ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████▒▒▓▒  ░█▓▒░░░░▒▓▒                 
                             ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▓█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▒               
                             ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░▒▓▓▒░░▒▓▓░░░▓░              
                             ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒░       ▓▒░░░█░             
                             ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓░           ░█▒░░█░             
                             ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓              ▒▒░░▓▒             
                            ░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓               ░▒░░▒▓             
                ░░░░░░░     ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒          ░█▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒█▓          
               ▒▓░░░░░░▒▓█▒░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓░        ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓         
              ░▓░▒▒▒▓█▓▒░░░░░░▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█░        ░▓▒░░░▓░░░░░░░░░▓         
              ▓▒░▒░     ░▒▓█▒░░░░░█▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓          ▒██▓▒▓░░░▓▓░░▒▓         
             ░█▒░▒▓█▒░     ▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒░░░░▓░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▓▒           ▒▒░░▓▓▒█▒░░░░         
             ░█░░▒▒░▒▓▒    ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒           ▓▓▓▒                 
           ░▓▓▒░░▒▒▓▒█▒    ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓░                               
          ░█▒▒▒░▒░░▓▒      █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█░░▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▓█░                              
           ▓▓▓█▓▓███░     ░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒                              
             ░             █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▓▓█▒▒▒░░▒▓▒▒▒▒█░                             
                           ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒▓░░▒▒██▓▒▒░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▓█░                            
                           ░▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░▒▒▒▓█▓▓▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▓█░                           
                           ░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█░░░░░░░░░░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓                           
                           ░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓                          
                            ▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒░                         
                             ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓░                             
                             ░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓██▓▒▒░░▒█▒░░░░▒█░                           
                              ░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▓▓▓▓▓██████████▓▒▒░░░░░░           ░▓▓░░░░▒█▓░                        
                                ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░     ▓▓▒░░░░▓▓                          ░▒█▒░░░▓░                        
                                                     ░█▓░░░▓▒                          ░█▒░░▒▓░                        
                                                       ░▓▓░░█░                        ░▓▒░░▓▒                          
                                                        ▓▓░░░█░                      ░▓▒░░▓▓                           
                                                      ░▓▒░░░▒▓░                     ░▓▒░░▓░                            
                                                     ░▓░░░░▓▒░                     ░█░░░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒░                       
                                                    ▓▓░░░▓▓░                      ▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓█░                    
                                                  ░▓▒░░▒██████▒                   ░█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░                    
                                                  ▓█▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒█▒                  ░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░                      
                                                       ░▓▓▓████▓▓░

new code page 437 chip plankton chip

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒░▒░░░░▒░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓███████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████▓▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒░░▒▒░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒███████▓▒▒▓█████████████████████████▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▓▒▒█████▓░░▒▒░▒████████▓▒░▓░▒█████████▓▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒███▓▒░░▒▓▒░░▒▓█████▒░░▒▓░░░▒███████▓▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▓███░░▒▓███▓░░░▓██▒░░░▓██▓░░░▒██████▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▓████████████▓▓███▓▒▓██████▒░░▓█████▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▓██████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒██████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░▒▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▓▓▒░▒▓▓▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▒▒▒░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒█▒▓▒░░░░░░▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓░░▓▒▒▒░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░█░░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒█▓▓░░░░░░░░▓▒▓░████████▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓██
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓░░░░▓▓▒▒▒░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒█▓▒░░░░░░░░▒▓░▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▒░░▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒█░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▓█████████▓▓▓▓░░░░░▒░░░▓▓▒▒░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒█░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▓▓█░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░▒▓▓▓▒░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▓░░░░░░░░░▒▓░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
███████████████▒░░░░░░░░▒▒░▓▒░░░░░░░▒▓██▓▒▒▒░░░░▒▒░░░▒▒▓██▓▒▒█░░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▓▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░▒█████████████████████
▓▒░▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░▓▓▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▒░░░▒█▒▓▓░░▒▒░░░░░░▒▓░▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▓█████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▒░░░░░▒░░▒▓▒░░░░░▒▓░░░░▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▒▒▓░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▒▓▒░░░░░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░▓▓▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▓▒░▒▒▓▓▓▓
▒▒▒▓▒░░▓░░░░▓▒▒░░▒▒░▒▒░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓▓▒░░▒▓▒░░░▒▓█▓▒░░░▓░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░▒░▒▒▒█▓
▒▒▒▒▓░░░▓▒░░▒▒░░▓▒▓▒▒▒░░░░░░░▓▓▒▒▒░░░░▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒░█░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░░░░░░▒▒▓▓
▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░▒▓▓▓▒▓▒░▒▓█▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█░░▓░░▒▒░░▒▓▒▒░░▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░▒▓▓▓▓▓
▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓██▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▓████░░▓▓░░▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
▓▓▓███████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒

new chip plankton Chip Plankton II chip

██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓█████████████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▓███████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓██████▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████████████████
███████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒█████████████████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███████████████
██████████████████████████████▓▒▒▓███████▒▒▒▒▓█████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████████████████
████████████████████████▓▒▓█▒▓▒▒▓███████▒░▒▓▓▓▒▓████▒▒▒▒▓██████▓▒▒▒▒███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████████
███████████████████████▓▒█▓▓█▓▒▓███████▓▒░▓██▒░▓███▒░▒▓▒▒▓███████▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓█▓▓▓█████████████████████
███████████████████████▒▒▓█▓▓▒▒████████▓▒▓███▒▒▓██▓▒▒▓██▒░▒███████▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████
██████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓████████▒░▓██▓░▒▓██▓▒▒███▓▒████████▓▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████
██████████████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▒█████▓▒██▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓███▒░▒██▓░▒████████▓▒▒█▒▒▓▓▓▓██████████████████████
██████████████████████▓▒▒▒▓█▓▒█████▒░▒▓█▓▒▒▒▓█████▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▓████████▓▒▒█▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓█████████████████
███████████████████████▒▒▒▓█▓▒██████▒░▒▓▓██████████▓▓▒▓███▓▒░▓████▓▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▓██▒▓▒▓█████████████████
█████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▒▓███████▓▒░░░░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓████▓▒░▒▓█████▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓█████████████████
█████████████████████████████▒▒████████████▓▓▒▒▒▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒████████▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓█████████████████
█████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓▒▓█▓███▓▓▒▓██████████████████
███████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓███████████████████████▒▒▒█▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▒▒███████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▒████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▓▓████▓▓▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓██████████████████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▒▒░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████████▒▓▒░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████████▒▓▒░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████████▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████████▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓██▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓██▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓██▓▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓██▓▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒██▓▒▒██████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒██▓▒▒██████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████▓▓▒▒▓██▒▒▓█▓▒▒██████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████▒▓▒▒▓██▒▒▓█▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒███▒▒▓█▒░▓██████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▓███▒▒▒▓▒░▒▒█████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████▒▒▓▒▒▓███▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒████▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████▓▓▒▒▒████▒▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▓▒▓██▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓███████████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓████▓▒▒▒█▓▒▒▓▓▒▒█████████████████████████████████████████
█████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█████▓▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒█████▓▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▓██████▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓██████▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒███████▓▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒███████▓▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒███████▓▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████████
████████████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████
████████████████▓▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░▒████████████████████████████
██████████████▓░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█████████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████
███████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████

new chip plankton Chip Plankton II chip

💋💄༝༚༝༚

new gossip schmooze berry avenue rumor chat

guys this is NOT twitter. STOP ADDING OPINIONS ON AN EMOJI WEBSITE!! also some stuff so I am not useless👍
kaomojis
(p′︵‵。) ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡┌(┌^o^)┐(ノ｀Д´)ノ彡┻━┻ψ(๑'ڡ'๑)ψ(ノ^_^)ノƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃψ(๑'ڡ'๑)ψᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ٩( ᐛ )( ᐖ )۶(┛✧Д✧))┛٩( ᐛ )و( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ )
hearts 
♡♥︎❥❦❧☙❣❢ᰔᰔᩚෆʚɞღდლএঞଓᜊᥫ᭡ꨄஐᦗ
more random stuff
꒷꒦꒷꒦ Name ❢٭꒷꒦꒷꒦
˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ ݊ꪀɑׁׅꩇׁׅ֪݊ ꫀׁׅܻ݊ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰
❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀
✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•
═════════•°•⚠️•°•═════════
°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°
⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
....::::**•°❄❇☸❇❄°•**::::....
══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══
✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿
♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆,

new molly gossip talk chat berry avenue chitchat

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 5

Karen saw the flicker
in Plankton's eye that 
signaled his return to 
the present. She then
motioned for Chip to 
back up. Plankton let go
of the bear, his gaze
flitting around the room
as if searching. Karen
wiped the drool from his
chin. "Welcome back," she
whispered, her voice
calm and soothing.

Plankton's eye met 
Karen's screen. "I'm 
here," she said, her
own voice thick with
relief. "You had another
seizure, but it's over now."

Plankton nodded
slowly, his antennae
drooping as he tried
to piece together what
had happened. The fog in
his mind was lifting,
but the weight of his
emotions remained as he 
looked over to Chip.

Chip's eyes met his,
full of uncertainty. "Dad,"
he began, but his voice
trailed off as Plankton's eye
flickered with recognition.
Chip's own eyes lit up with
relief and hope.

Plankton's antennae
slowly raised, his gaze
focusing on his wife 
and son.

"I remember," Plankton said
through gritted teeth. The
memory of Chip's innocent yet
hurtful word stung. "He said
I was... 'slow'. He said it!"
The anger in his voice
was palpable, his antennae
quivering with agitation.

Karen's heart ached
for her husband's pain, but she
knew that anger was a part
of his post-seizure
frustration. She approached
the bed, her voice calm
but firm. "Plankton, Chip
didn't mean it that way. He's
scared and confused. He
doesn't know how much that
word can hurt."

Plankton's antennae
trembled with anger. 
"But it did!" he 
exclaimed. "It does!"
His voice grew louder,
no longer slurred.

Karen's eyes searched
his, understanding the
pain he was feeling.
"I know you're upset," she
said gently, "but let's talk
about thi—"

"Talk?" Plankton spat, his
body tensing with rage. "How
can I talk to him after what
he said?" The words echoed in
his mind, a cruel reminder
of his fears.

Chip took a step back, his
heart racing. He hadn't meant
to cause such pain, but the
look on his dad's face was
unmistakable. He had hurt
his hero, the one person he
looked up to more than
anyone else. "Dad, I'm sorry,"
he whispered, his voice
shaking with emotion. "I
really didn't kn-"

But Plankton was beyond
hearing apologies. His antennae
were a blur with rage. "You
think I'm 'slow'?" he roared,
his voice echoing in the
small room. "You think that's all
I am?" His words were
sharp as knives, cutting
through the tension.

Chip felt the sting of his
father's anger, his screen
filling with tears. "No, Dad,
that's not what I mea-"

But Plankton's rage was
a force unto itself. "How
dare you!" he yelled, his
voice shaking the walls. "After
everything I've done for you.."

Tears spilled from his
single eye, his antennae
quivering uncontrollably.
"How could you say that?"
he sobbed, his voice
breaking with pain.

Chip's eyes were wide
with shock and fear at
the sight of his father's
distress. He hadn't really
seen Plankton cry before,
and the raw emotion was
overwhelming.

Plankton's sobs were
deep, his antennae shaking
wildly as he wept into
his pillow. Karen stood
at the side of the bed, her
heart breaking as she
stroked his back.

Chip watched, feeling
his own eyes burn with
tears. "I'm sorry," he
repeated, his voice small.
"I didn't know. I won't
say it ever ag-"

But Plankton didn't
seem to hear him, lost
in his own grief. His
sobs grew louder, his body
shaking with the force
of his emotions. Karen
could see the hurt and fear
reflected in her son's
face, and she knew they had
to get through this together.

"Chip," she said gently,
guiding him closer to
his father. "Your dad needs
love right now." She placed
his hand on Plankton's
back. "Tell him you
love him."

Chip took a deep
breath, his hand trembling
slightly. "Dad," he began,
his voice cracking. "I love
you." Plankton's sobs
continued, unabated but
his antennae quivered
slightly, as if acknowledging
his son's presence.

Karen watched as Chip
sat on the edge of the
bed, tentatively placing
his hand on Plankton's
back. "I'm sorry," Chip
whispered. "I didn't mean
to hurt yo-"

But Plankton's sobs
interrupted him, his
body wracked with emotion.
His antennae thrashed about,
his crying a silent
testament to the
pain he felt. The room
was suffused with his
sorrow, a stark contrast to
his usually stoic demeanor.

Chip felt the weight of his
father's grief, his
own chest tightening
as he watched the man
he idolized break down.
He had never seen
his father so exposed,
so vulnerable, and it
frightened him.

He swallowed hard,
his throat thick with tears.
"Dad," he tried again,
his voice barely above a
whisper. "I didn't mean to
hurt-"

But Plankton's sobs
drowned out his words, his
body convulsing with
the force of his grief.
Karen wrapped her arms
around Chip, pulling him
closer to her side. "Let him
cry it out," she murmured.
"He needs this."

The room was filled
with the sound of Plankton's
sobs, each one a raw
expression of the pain
he felt. His antennae
twitched erratically, as if
trying to find a way to
express the emotional
thoughts inside his head.
Chip sat there, frozen, his
hand hovering over
his father's back, unsure
of what to do next.

Karen watched them both,
her own heart torn by the
scene before her. She knew
Plankton's autism made
his emotions intense, and
this misunderstanding had
triggered a deep-seated fear
of rejection. She also knew
that Chip didn't intend to
hurt his father—he was just
a child, trying to understand
a complex world.

"Chip," she whispered, 
her voice thick with 
emotion. "It's ok.
Just love him." 
She nodded
towards Plankton.

Chip took a deep
breath, his hand 
shaking slightly. He
slowly placed it on
his father's back, feeling
the warmth and tremble
of his dad's shoulders. 
"I love you," Chip
managed, his voice
barely audible.

new dare to be different crycore chip

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 1

Chip dragged his bag 
through the doorway.
Adopted at birth by his
parents Karen and
Plankton, his bus from
camp came earlier than
originally planned. Chip's
thus not expected to be
home from another hour
yet he's home.

His parents weren't in
the living room, so he
crept to the bedroom
of his parents to see a
peculiar sight.

Plankton only allowed
Karen to know about
his neurodisability. He
sometimes gets harmless
nonepileptic seizures due
to his autism. He's having
one when Chip came home
but neither he nor Karen
noticed their son's arrival.

Chip's heart pounded in
his chest as he peered
into their bedroom. Plankton
was lying on the bed, eye
open, his body stiff. Karen
was at his side.

"It's okay, it's okay,"
Karen murmured, stroking
his arm gently. Her voice
was soothing, a stark
contrast to the chaotic
silence of the seizure.
Then Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly. It was a
sign that the seizure was
passing. Karen recognized
this phase as the postictal
period, where her husband's
mind was trying to reboot.

Plankton's eye flickered,
his speech slurred and
incoherent. "Wha... wawl...
bibble," he mumbled, his
face a mask of confusion.
Chip felt his breath catch
in his throat, unsure of
what he was witnessing.
This wasn't the Plankton he
knew—his dad was always
sharp and quick-witted. The
contrast was jarring, and
his heart ached for the
man struggling to regain
his composure.

Karen nodded gently,
her eyes never leaving
Plankton's face. "You're
safe, my love," Karen
whispered. "It's alright."
Chip's curiosity grew
as he listened to his
father's disjointed words.

"Wish... bof... not
enough," Plankton said,
his voice strained. Karen
squeezed his hand.
"Shh, Plankton, you're home," 
she soothed, cooing.

"What's he talking about?"
Chip thought to himself, his
confusion swelling. He had
never seen his dad like this.
This was his dad, the strong,
clever Plankton he knew, now so
vulnerable and lost.

Plankton's eye searches 
the ceiling as if trying to 
find answers there.

Chip's curiosity morphed
into concern. He had
always known his dad
was different, but this was
new. "Bof... bibble," Plankton
repeated, his eye still
dazed. Chip's mind raced,
trying to piece together what
his father's nonsensical words
could mean.

"Don't worry, you'll feel
better soon," Karen says.

Plankton's babbling grew
more childlike.

"Bibble-bobble... more...
choxie," Plankton said with
a weak smile, his voice
slurred like a toddler's.
Karen chuckled softly, her
hand still resting on his arm.

"Choxie?" she questioned,
gently. "Do you want any
thi—"

Before she could finish,
Plankton chuckled, drool
sliding down his chin. 
"Eeeeee?"

Karen wiped it 
away with a
tissue, her gaze 
filled with a mix 
of tenderness 
and understanding,
knowing Plankton's
state was temporary.

"Choxie?" Chip
whispered to himself,
his curiosity piqued.
He'd never heard
his dad talk like
this before. It was
almost as if Plankton
was speaking in
another language—a
child's babble filled with
longing and innocence.

Karen leaned in,
listening intently to
his garbled speech.
Her eyes searched Plankton's
face for any hint of
recognition or meaning.

"Kay... more... love,"
Plankton murmured, his
eye fluttering closed.

Karen's heart tightened,
but she kept her voice steady.
"More love?" she asked,
interpreting his words with
care. "I love you too, Plankton."

Plankton's smile grew
slightly, his antennae
twitching in contentment.
It seemed as if his
garbled words were a
request for comfort, and
his wife's gentle voice has
sufficed.

Chip watched from the
shadows, his mind racing
with questions. His dad,
usually so sharp and in
control, was reduced to
this. He noticed the way Karen's
face softened as she spoke,
how she treated Plankton
like he was the most
important being in the
world. It was clear that
this wasn't the first time
she'd seen him like this,
but the sight was still
heartbreakingly new to Chip.

"Gibble... gibble," Plankton
continued, his body
starting to relax as the
seizure's aftermath ebbed
away. His hands began to
fidget, as if trying to grasp
at the air. Chip's chest
tightened, watching his dad
so helpless.

Plankton's antennae waved.
"Wibble... wobble... waddle," he
managed to say, his speech
still slurred but slightly
more coherent as Karen
helps him sit up. Plankton's
body felt heavy and awkward
in her arms, but she managed
to get him into a sitting
position. He looked at her
with a mix of relief and
exhaustion.

"Wobble?" Karen questioned,
trying to decode his speech.
"Do you want one of your
sensory fidget toys?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched erratically as
his speech grew slightly
more coherent. "Bibble...
bobble," he said, looking
around the room with
a child-like curiosity.
Chip felt his own curiosity
building, watching the scene
unfold with a mix of concern
and fascination.

"Fibble... wibble," Plankton
tried again, his words
still jumbled. Karen nodded
encouragingly, handing him a
sensory fidget toy from the
nightstand. It was a small,
colorful object with various
textures and shapes.

As his hand closed around it,
his eye lit up with
recognition. "Wibble!" he
exclaimed, his grip tightening
on the toy.

He began to fiddle with it,
his movements becoming more
precise. "Fibble... fibble,"
he murmured, his voice gaining
strength.

Karen watched him with
relief, knowing that his
recovery was underway.
But Chip remained in the
doorway, his eyes glued to
his father's face.

"Dibble-dibble... wobble-wobble,"
Plankton mumbled to himself,
his fingers tracing the toy's
intricate patterns. His voice
was still not quite right, but
it was a step closer to the
clever and crafty man they knew.

Karen watched with a soft smile,
her eyes reflecting the warmth
of her love for her husband.
"You're coming back to us,"
she whispered.

Plankton's antennae quivered,
his eye slowly focusing on
his wife's face. He blinked
a few times. "K-Karen?"
Her smile grew wider. "Yes,
love, it's me," she said, her
voice brimming with love
and relief.

He looked around, taking in
his surroundings with a
confused gaze. "Wha?"
he finally managed to say,
his voice still shaky.

"You're home," Karen said,
smiling as she held his hand.
"You had a seizure, but
you're okay now."

new dare to be different neurodisabled chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 17
The next morning
Plankton groaned
awake, anesthesia
for his wisdom teeth
having worn off 
during the night. He's
in his bed, by Karen's.

"Karen?" he mumbled. 
His antennae
twitch as he looked
around, trying to
recall the previous day.

Karen stirred beside him,
her eyes opening sleepily.
"You okay?" she asked,
concern etching her
face. Plankton nodded, his
movements slow. "Mouth
hurts," he whispered, his
voice hoarse. Karen's smile
was filled with sympathy.
"It's normal, sweetie," she
soothed, her hand reaching
out to stroke his cheek.
"The surgery was yesterday.
It'll take a few days
for it to feel better."

Plankton's antennae
twitched as he tried to
sit up. The pain was
sharp, a reminder of
his ordeal. Karen knew
his autism would make
him impatient, knowing
his sensory sensitivities.
"Do you need anything,
sweetie?" she asked, her voice
gentle. Plankton was
always particular, but now,
his needs were magnified.
He shrugged. "Not right
now," he murmured.

Chip knocked softly
on the door, his heart
racing. He hadn't
seen his dad since last
night. "Hey, Dad," he
whispered, stepping into
the room. Plankton's
eye widened slightly, his
antennas quivering. "Chip?"
he said. Chip nodded, his
expression tentative.

"How are you feeling?"
Plankton's antennae
twitched. "Mouth hurts,"
he mumbled. "But I'm okay."
Chip nodded, his eyes
searching his dad's.
"Do you...do you rememb-"

Plankton's eye darted to the
side, his antennae quivering.
"I...I remember," he said, his
voice strained. "The de-"

"Dentist," Chip finished
for him, his voice gentle.
Plankton nodded, his gaze
flicking to Chip's face. "Yeah,
the dentist." He paused,
his antennae stilling. "It was
scary." "But I mean, what all do you
recall from yesterday, Dad?"

Plankton's antennae drooped
slightly as he searched
his mind. "I...I remember
the chair, the lights,"
he murmured, his voice
faint. "And the...the...uh,
the mask." His voice grew
smaller. "And then...
I felt myself waking up.
Anything else after that I...
I'm not sure; hopefully I've
done nothing foolish.."

Karen's eyes filled with
understanding. "You
were groggy, sweetie. It's
normal. You didn't do
anything weird." Plankton's
eye searched hers. "I...I talked
to you, right?" Karen nodded.
"Yes, you talked to me."

Plankton's antennae
twitched. "And Chip?"
he asked, his voice hopeful.
"You talked to him too,"
Karen assured him.

Chip stepped closer to
the bed, his eyes on his
dad's face. "You talked to me,
Dad," he said softly. "You
were just a bit out of it,
but we ta—"

Plankton's antennae 
shot up. "What do you
mean I was out of it?"

Karen sighed, her eyes
soft. "You were a bit
confused, darling," she
explained gently. "The
anesthesia can make people
say things they might not
usually say." Plankton's eye
widened. "What things; Chip?
What made you to believe I
was out of it?"

Chip's cheeks flushed, but
he knew this was an
important moment for
his dad to understand.
"Well," he began, "you talked
about wanting pudding,
and you held my ha-"

Plankton's antennae shot
up. "I did WHAT?" he
interrupted, his voice
sharp with alarm. "I
held your hand?" Chip nodded,
his throat tight. "Yeah, Dad,
you asked if you could hold
my hand, I guess looking for
com--" "I did no such
thing!" His face flushed
with embarrassment.
Karen's eyes filled with
concern. "Plankton, it's
okay. It was just the
medicine. It was just
because you were so tired
and needed comfort."
Plankton's antennae
drooped with embarrassment
in front of Chip.

Chip knew his dad valued
his dignity highly and
his autism made social
interactions difficult.
He took a deep breath.
"Dad, it's okay. It's just
that you were really tired
and the medicine made
you say some things you
might not have meant."
Plankton looked up. "I kno—
I said stuff? What stuff? 
What'd all I do?"

Karen stepped in, her voice
calm. "You just talked
about being tired, and
asked for pudding. That's
all." Plankton's antennae
twitched in relief. "Oh. Okay."
He lay back, his breath
evening out. "So I didn't look
or ac-"

"You were adorable," Chip
interrupted, trying to
lighten the mood. Plankton's
eye narrowed, his antennae
still. "What?" he asked, his
voice skeptical. "I was
what? How so, Chip?"
Chip shrugged, his smile
genuine. "In the car, you
fell aslee—"

"Chip," Karen warned,
interrupting him. She knew
his intentions were good,
but she also knew that Plankton
could become easily upset
by perceived patronizing.
But Plankton's always been
stubborn. "No, no; Chip, how'd
you know if I was asleep?"

Chip stumbled, trying to
explain without causing
distress. "You, uh, your snores
were...uh..."

Plankton's antennae perked
up, his eye focusing on Chip.
"WHAT?" he asked.
Karen chuckled. "Yes, dear,
you snore. But it's nothing
to be embarrassed about."

Plankton's cheeks flushed a
deep shade of red. "I do
not!" he protested. "You must
have heard the engine, or
something?"

Chip couldn't help but laugh,
his eyes sparkling. "No,
Dad, it was definitely you."
Karen's eyes crinkled with
amusement. "It's just your
snoring, Plankton," she said.
"It's cute, and I've heard it
numerous times before." Chip
just grinned, unable to hold
back his laughter any longer.

Plankton's antennae
drooped, his eye looking
between the two of them.
"Cute?" he murmured, his
voice filled with doubt. Karen
nodded, her smile warm.
"Yes, cute," Chip told
him. "It's just a part of
who you are, like your
stims.."

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly at the
word 'stims'. He knew
about stimming, the way
his body moved when he was
nervous or overwhelmed. But
to hear it from Chip, to know
his son was still thinking of it,
was mortifying.
Chip, noticing his dad's
discomfort, quickly changed
the subject. "So, how
about that chocolate pudding?"
he chuckled, trying to ease
tension. But Plankton's
attitude remained.

Karen, ever the mediator,
stepped in. "You know what,
let's give each other some
space," she suggested, looking
at Chip. She knew Plankton's
limits and can tell when
he's overwhelmed.

Chip nodded, his
laughter dying down. "Okay,"
he murmured, stepping back.

Plankton's antennae
twitched as he lay there.
His hand began to move in
small, repetitive circles.
It was a stim, something
he did when restless.
"Why did I ask for pudding?"
he whispered to himself, his voice
tiny. "Why did I hold his
hand?" His antennae quivered
with the weight of his thoughts.
He had always been particular
about personal space, so the
idea of holding Chip's hand was
both confusing and disconcerting.
"It was the medicine," he murmured.
"Just the medicine. That's right. Just
the medicine. It's just me,
Plankton. I'm ok. Just a bit...different."
He paused, his antennae still.
"But I'm ok."

"Dad," Chip said softly. Plankton's
antennas shot up at the sound,
his stimming hand freezing.
He turned his head, his eye
finding Chip's face. "What
is it?" he asked, his voice
sharp. Chip approached the bed,
his gaze on his dad's hand,
still mid-motion. Plankton's antennae
twitched in irritation.
"Is that a stim, Dad?"
Chip said, trying to keep his
tone neutral. "You know,
like when you bounce your leg
or I ta-"

"I know what a stim is,"
Plankton snapped, his antennae
waving in annoyance. "Why
do you keep bringing it up?"
Chip took a step back, his
face falling. "I just...I'm
sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his eye narrowing.
"No," he murmured. "It's...it's
because my mouth hurts."
Chip nodded, his gaze
focused. "But that's not all of
it, is i---"

Plankton's hand abruptly
stopped moving, his antennae
straightening. "What do you
know, Chip?" he asked, his 
voice defensive. Karen
could see the hurt in Chip's
expression, but she knew
this was a boundary Plankton
needed to set.

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

[ 💬 ]

new chat cool

💬🗨️🗣🗯️💭💬.

new talking dialogue converse communicate verbalise speak chat say chatter conversation

「［Title here］ 」
〃name（s） ˸˸ 
〃pronouns ˸˸ 
〃age ˸˸ 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
「Everything Else」
〃time zone ˸˸ 
〃likes ˸˸ 
〃Extra ˸˸ 
〃Quote ˸˸ ＂Insert Quote＂
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
「interaction」
〃Touch ˸˸ 
〃Req Alter ˸˸ 
〃Friend Req ˸˸ 
〃Nicknames ˸˸ 
〃Venting ˸˸ 
〃DNI ˸˸ 

MADE BY CalebDarling ON VRCHAT / Carpz_Kelpz ON DISCORD

new vr chat vrc vrchat virtual reality chat bio internet twitter

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 𝟩

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄
𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍'𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅
𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇
𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗈𝗍.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽. "𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?" 
𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒.
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. "𝖨'𝗆
𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽.
"𝖫𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈.."

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁
𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆.
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈
𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽
𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾
𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌
𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍'𝗌
𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. "𝖫𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈
𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗀𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗋," 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽
𝗈𝗎𝗍. "𝖠𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍; 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗇!"
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽, 𝖺 𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗍 
𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾
𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋
𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝗌
𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝗐𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋
𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗍𝗈
𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗌. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌
𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀,
𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝗍𝗈 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌
𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆,
𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁
𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾
𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈
𝖺 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀-𝗈𝖿𝖿, 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿
𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍.
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾
𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇
𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋
𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌
𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗈𝖽𝗒
𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋
𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗃𝗈𝗒.
𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝖽
𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾
𝗌𝗐𝗎𝗇𝗀. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌,
𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍.

𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗌, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾
𝖻𝗈𝗒𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝗍𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌
𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿
𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺
𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.
𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝗅𝗒,
𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍
𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝗍.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇
𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖾. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖽𝖾𝖽,
𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇.
𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍
𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾
𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗂𝗇
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐
𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽
𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌
𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅.

"𝖣𝖺𝖽!" 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗒𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽,
𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗃𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈
𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾
𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗆. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇
𝗃𝗎𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅,
𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖾𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗌
𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗎𝗇𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾
𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗒.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌
𝗎𝗇𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗌𝖾
𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝖽
𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 
𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌
𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 
𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 
𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒
𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾
𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗅. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽
𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌. 𝖧𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍
𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌.
𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽
𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉
𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋
𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾. 𝖩𝗎𝗌𝗍
𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗍, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌
𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾
𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗌
𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗆𝗈𝗆 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽 
𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍
𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌
𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗈𝖿
𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖽
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄.

"𝖲𝗁𝗁," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽,
𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌.
"𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒, 𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎."
𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽
𝗎𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺
𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽.
𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍. 𝖭𝗈𝗐.

𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉,
𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆
𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒
𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗌.
𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗐 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍
𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍
𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾.
𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺
𝗐𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖿. "𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁
𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉. 𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝖾𝗍
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗐𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾. 𝖣𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗆."

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗆𝗇𝗅𝗒,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽
𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒
𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒,
𝖣𝖺𝖽," 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗈
𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍
𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽
𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺
𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖾
𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐
𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽
𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖽
𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇
𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗌
𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒
𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌
𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗂𝗓𝗎𝗋𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍
𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒
𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍
𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽
𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝖽
𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾
𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. "𝖣𝖺𝖽, 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗆𝖾,
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗂𝗓𝗎𝗋𝖾," 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉
𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒. "𝖡𝗎𝗍
𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗄 𝗇𝗈𝗐." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌
𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗋,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 
𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌.
𝖧𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗂𝖽𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇
𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋.

new dare to be different swingpunk pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 8

Karen rushed over, her
face a mix of relief
and concern. "Plankton,
are you ok?" she asked,
her voice filled with
care. Plankton nodded,
his antennae moving 
slowly as he took in
his surroundings.
He looked around, his
eye darting to Chip.
"H-How did we get
here?" His voice was
weak, his antennae
still trembling slightly. 
"You fell off the swing,"
Chip said, trying to keep
his voice steady. "But
Mom and I caught you."
He hoped the gentle
explanation would ease
his father's confusion.

Plankton's antennae
stilled for a moment,
his eye focusing on Chip.
He nodded, understanding
dawning on his face.
"Thank you...tired."

Karen's eyes searched
his face, reading his
autistic cues. "Let's go
home," she said gently,
helping him to his feet.
His legs were shaky, his
balance precarious.

With a nod, Plankton
allowed her to guide him
to the car, leaning heavily
on her. Chip climbs into
the back seat with Plankton.

Karen pulled out of
the park. "I'm proud of
both of you," she said,
glancing in the rearview
mirror at Chip and Plankton.
"You handled that so well."

Plankton sat next to
his son, still exhausted.
Chip looked at his dad, his
heart heavy with guilt.
He reached for the plush
bear he had brought from
the house, placing it
gently in Plankton's lap.
"Here," he said softly. "It
helps, right?" Plankton's 
antennae twitched,
his gaze flickering to the
toy. He took it, his
fingers curling around
the soft fabric, finding
comfort in the familiar
texture. "Thanks," he
mumbled, his voice a
whisper of its usual
strength.

Chip watched as
his father's eye grew
heavy with sleep, his
head nodding slightly
as the car pulled away
from the park.

Plankton's antennae
twitched as he fought
the pull of slumber,
his grip tightening
around the plush bear.
Plankton's antennae were
twitching slower now, his
eye half-closed. Karen knew
her husband was trying to
stay present, to show
his strength. But the
exhaustion was clear.

"Home," Plankton murmured,
his eyelid drooping. "Yes, we're
taking the trip home," Karen
affirmed, her eyes flicking
back to the road.

The car's gentle hum was
soothing, the vibrations
of the engine lulling Plankton
closer to sleep. Chip 
noticed his father's antennae
quivering with each 
bump in the road, his body 
slumping against the car seat.

Karen glanced in the
rearview mirror, her
expression a mix of 
concern and love.

Plankton's antennae stilled
as sleep claimed him, his
body leaning against Chip's
shoulder. Chip felt the
weight of his dad's head.

Chip knew that he was
tired, but he also knew
his father didn't like to
admit when he needed
help, especially in public.
But here they were.

Plankton's antennae
barely twitched, his
snores soft but steady.
Karen's eyes remained
on the road, her gaze
flitting to the rearview
mirror to check on him.
Chip watched his father's
sleeping form.

The car's air conditioner
blew a soft breeze across
his dad's sleeping form,
his antennae fluttering
with the occasional draft.

"Mom," Chip 
whispers from 
the back seat, 
his eyes never 
leaving his 
father's sleeping 
form. "Can I stay
with him when we 
get home?"

"Of course, sweetheart,"
Karen responded, her
voice calm and reassuring.
"We'll all need some
rest after today. Just make
sure he's comfortable."

As they arrived home,
Plankton was still fast
asleep, his antennae barely
twitching. "What do we
do now, Mom?" Chip asked,
unbuckling his seatbelt.
"We get him to bed,"
Karen said firmly,
opening the car door.
"You can help me."

With care, Karen
lifted Plankton out of
the car, his body
limp with sleep.
Chip opened the house
door, holding it wide as
his mother carried his
father inside,
each step precise and
calculated to avoid
disturbing Plankton.

The coolness of the
air-conditioned house
was a stark contrast to
the warmth of the car,
and Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly at the
change in temperature.
Karen's grip was gentle
but firm, her arms steady
as she carried him to their
bedroom. Karen laid
Plankton down carefully,
his body sinking into
the softness of the bed.

Plankton's antennae
twitched once more
before coming to
rest against the pillow.
His snores grew quieter,
his body fully surrendering 
to sleep. Chip hovered at the
foot of the bed,
his heart heavy. "Can
I stay with him?"
he asked, his voice
small in the quiet room.
Karen looked at her
son, the question in
his eyes. She nodded,
her heart aching for
the burgeoning bond
between them. "Yes, but
don't disturb him," she
instructed, her voice
barely above a whisper. 

Chip climbed into
the bed with his
father, his movements
careful not to wake
his dad. He lay down
next to Plankton.

Plankton's antennae
were still now, his
snores even and
deep. Chip studied
his father's face, the
way his antenna fluttered
with every breath,
his grip on the bear
unwavering. He was so
vulnerable in sleep, so
different from the
man who had been
consumed by anger.

Chip felt a mix of
emotions—guilt for
his carelessness,
fear of what could
have been, and a
newfound love for
his father that was
both fierce and gentle.
He lay there, listening
to the steady rhythm
of Plankton's soft snores.

new dare to be different tiredcore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 9

Eventually, Plankton 
groans awake to 
find his son sitting
beside him on his 
bed. "Hey, buddy,"
he says. "What's
going on?"

Chip looks at him,
his eyes filled with
worry. "You had
another seizure at
the park," he says,
his voice low. "Do
you remember?"
Plankton nods.
The memory of the
loud music and the
sensory overload
floods back. "I'm 
sorry," he says.

"It's not your fault,"
Chip says quickly.
"But I promise to
try to be a better
son, to understand."
Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly. "I'm
sorry too," he mumbles.
"For what, Dad?"
Chip asks, his voice
filled with confusion.
"For not telling you,"
Plankton says, his gaze
shifting to the floor.

"What do you mean,
Dad?" Chip asks, his voice
filled with curiosity.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Plankton sighs, his
antennas drooping. "Because
it's hard, Chip," he says,
his voice cracking. "It's
not something people
understand easily. I don't
even fully understand it."
Chip frowns, his eyes
searching Plankton's. "But
now I know," he says. "I want
to understand, Dad. I want
to learn."

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his gaze meeting
his son's. "Okay," he says
slowly. "What do you want
to know?"

Chip's eyes widen.
"Everything," he says.
"What do you prefer
me to call it?"

Plankton pauses, his
single eye looking into
his son's earnest gaze.
"Autism," he says.
"Or, if you want to get
specific, my form is
neurodevelopmental autism."
He takes a deep breath.
"It's a type of disability.
It affects how I think,
how I learn, and how I
interact with the world."

Chip nods, taking it in.
"So, like, why do you
sometimes get so upset
about noises or lights?"
Plankton sighs, his
antennas drooping slightly.
"It's like my brain can't
filter everything out.
It's all too much at once.
It's like listening to a
thousand TVs at full volume.
It overwhelms me."

Chip's eyes widen
further. "And the
seizures, Dad?"

Plankton's antennae
twitch in thought.
"They're a part of
it, too," he says, his
voice strained. "It's like
my brain's wiring gets
tangled up, and it has
to reset. It's not always
predictable, and it can be
scary. It doesn't happen
every single day."

Chip nods solemnly,
his curiosity piqued.
"What about the toys?"
he asks, gesturing to
the plush bear still
in Plankton's hand.

"They're sensory
items," Plankton explains,
his antennae straightening.
"They can help me when I'm
overwhelmed. Something to
fidget, when restless. Like
comfort items, if you will."

Chip nods, processing.
"So, like, how long have
you had this, uhm, autism?"
Plankton's antennae
twitch at the question.

"Since I was born," he
replies. "It's always been a
part of me. It's just the
way my brain works.
Some days are easier than
others. But it's not to be
cured or reversed. I acquired
it at birth. When my mum
was to give birth to me,
something happened, and
it changed the way my brain
developed. What exactly
happened was during the
birth, my head somehow got
stuck, and it affected my brain."

Chip's eyes widened. "But
you're so smart," he said.
"Does it affect your
intelligence?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly as he
considered his son's
question. "It's not that
simple," he said. "It's like
some things are easier for
me, like solving complex
problems or remembering
details. But other things, like
reading social cues or
understanding sarcasm, are
really hard."

"But you're so good at
inventing," Chip said.
"Does it help with that?"
Plankton's antennae
twitched. "Yes," he said.
"My brain works differently.
It lets me see patterns
and connections that
others might miss. But it
can also make simple
things like talking to
people really tough."

Chip nodded, his hand
still resting on the
plush bear. "Can I ask
you someth...? I just,
the bad wor— I'm sorry;
I just wanna ask about the
slur I used."

Plankton flinched at the
mention of the slur.
He took a deep breath.
"As long as you know it
was wrong, and you don't
do it again," he said.
"I'll tell you about it."

Chip nodded, his eyes
intent on his dad's.
"Why did it hurt?" he
asked, his voice soft.

Plankton's antennae
twitched with the pain
of the memory. "Because
those words, they're not
just words," he said.
"They're like punches.
They hurt because they're
not true. They're not who
I am. And when people
use them, it feels like
they're trying to define
me by something that's
just a part of me. And
that particular slur is used
to mock, to belittle." "But, why?"
Chip asks. "How's it a slur?"

"That term has been
used to refer to people
with neurodisabilities
like including autism in 
a way that suggests, um..."
Plankton paused to wipe
a tear from his eye. "Sorry,"
he whispers, taking a deep
breath. "There were
diagnosticians, non-
disabled, who coined
that term," he began, his
voice shaky. "They
referred to neurodisabled
people that, and then
those neurodisabled people
were then had or given
options to be 'fixed' by
either trying torturous
methods to 'normalize'
them or, if that didn't
eventually work, they'd
just... tell caregivers
or their guardians to
refuse necessities including
food or water until they'd
ultimately pass away."

Chip's shocked into silence
as Plankton wiped another
tear, sniffling.

"And instead of giving any
accommodations, they'd
punish you. As if you were
choosing to be something
so wrong," Plankton continues, 
his voice quivering. "And in
grade school, when kids
couldn't understand, they'd
use it as a weapon, to mean
anything they didn't like.
I personally was bullied a
lot when I'd blurt out some
random science fact or, just
was left out. And even teachers
sometimes, they'd say
I was just being 'that'. And I'd
get in trouble for 'that'.
And when you said that
Chip, it just... brought it
all back."

new dare to be different strongcore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 10

Plankton wiped the
rest of his tears as
Chip took in his dad's
story, his eyes wide.

"So, you've had to deal with
that your whole life?" Chip
asked, his voice filled with
a newfound empathy. 
"Yeah," Plankton
nodded, his antennae
twitching slightly. "But
it's not all bad. There's
beauty in being different,
you know. And your mom
and I, we've learned to
make it work."

Chip looked at the
plush bear in his dad's
hand, now understanding
its significance.
"What happens during
a seizure, Dad?"
Plankton took a deep
breath. "My brain gets
overwhelmed, like too
much data coming in at once.
It's like a circuit
breaker trips and
everything goes haywire.
My body can't handle it,
so it shuts down a bit.
It's like my brain's
way of hitting the reset
button."

"Does it hurt?" Chip
asked, his eyes searching
his dad's.
"No, not physically,"
Plankton said, his antennae
twitching slightly. "But it's
scary, and it can leave
me feeling really tired.
And sometimes it's
embarrassing, because
it happens when I'm not
expecting it and I might
act a bit strange after.
Like, I might not 
recognize anything for a
little bit. But it's like coming
out of a daydream. You're
just... there, but not quite.
And then the real world hits
as it passes. And most of
the time I don't even know
it's happening until it's over."

Chip nodded, his hand
tightening around the bear.
"But why don't people
understand, Dad?"
"I guess because autism
is internal," Plankton
explained. "People can't
see it. They don't know
what's going on inside
my head. They just see
me acting differently, and
that annoys them. They don't
know how to react, I guess.
It's a spectrum," Plankton
continued. "There are
lots of people like that.
And some have it a lot
worse. They can't talk or
can't do things that come
easy to me. It's just
how their brains are."

Chip frowned, deep in
thought. "But you let
Mom hug you but, not
me; is that part of it?"

Plankton nodded, his antennae
drooping. "Sometimes, Chip,"
he said. "It's about comfort
and safety. With Mom, we know
what to expect, but with
you, it's still new. It's not that
I don't love you or don't
want to hug you. It's just...
hard sometimes. Certain
touches can be too much."

Chip's eyes searched
his father's face. "But, I'm
your son," he said, his voice
small.

Plankton nodded. "And I love
you more than anything," he
replied. "But sometimes,
my brain gets confused by
touch, especially when
it's unexpected. It's not
because I don't want to be
close to you, it's because
it's too much for me to handle.
And there are days where
it's easier than others. But she
knows what to do, and she
understands when I can't take
much more."

Chip looked down
at the bear, his eyes
filling with tears. "I
don't want to make it
worse," he whimpered.
"Just ask before you touch 
me, ok? And if I say no, don't 
take it to personally. It's not about
you, Chip; it's about what I can 
handle, what my body craves."

Karen then came to check
on them. "How are we doing?"
she asked, her voice gentle.
"I see you're awake.."

Plankton nodded weakly.
"We're okay," he said.
"Chip and I were just...
talking."

Karen's gaze moved
from her husband to
her son, noticing the
bear in Chip's hand.
"Oh?" Karen's eyebrows
raised in suspicion.

"Yeah," Chip said, 
his voice steadier 
now. "I just want to
know more about... 
about Dad." Karen
sat on the bed's edge.
"You're growing up,"
she murmured.

"Ok," Plankton said.
"But keep it simple.
I'm pretty tired." Chip 
nods as Karen moves
closer to them.

"So, Dad, what do
you want me to do when
you have a seizure?"
Plankton's antennae
twitched in thought.
"Just stay calm," he
instructed. "And keep me
safe. Sometimes, I might
lash out without knowing
it, so keep yourself safe
too. And if you can, help
me find something to
fidget with, like offering
me the bear. But even if
it's not at home, inform
your mother. Perhaps find
a quiet spot."

Chip nodded, his mind
racing with information.
"What about when you
move your hands like,
is that because of it?"
He turns to Karen.

"Yes," Karen said, taking
his hand in hers. "It's called
stimming. It's a way for
your dad to self-soothe or
if jittery. It's usually when
really emotional or just
restless. And he does it to
help manage the input his
brain's receiving."

Chip's eyes widen.
"So it's for fun; can 
I try?" But Plankton 
shook his head. "No
Chip, it's not a toy 
for you.."

Karen squeezed Chip's
shoulder gently. "It's okay to
ask questions, honey," she
said. "But remember, everyone's
experience is different. For
your dad, he can stim by
fidgeting with his hands or
talking to himself. He might
hum or rock. But he doesn't
like it to be mimicked. It's
not for us to point out or
make comments on, unless to
offer support or ask if he'd
like help. It's just something
he does for himself, not for
us."

Chip nodded, his gaze
back on Plankton. "And
what about those moments
where you just... zone out?"
Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly. "Those are called
absence seizures," he said.
"They're like staring spells.
They can happen anywhere,
anytime. It's like my brain
pauses for a bit. It can be
unsettling, but they usually
don't last long. Just stay
calm and let me know when
I come back, okay?"

"Okay," Chip said, nodding.
"What about when you get
upset and repeat words?"
Plankton sighed. "That's called
echolalia," he explained.
"It's when I repeat what
I've heard, or something
I've said before. It's a way
for me to cope with stress or
anxiety. Sometimes, it's just
easier than finding new
words. But usually it's to
process verbal directions.
Palilalia is all part of
the autism spectrum."

Karen watched 
the two of them, 
warmth spreading
through her heart. 

new dare to be different learncore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 11

"What about 
when you
won't look 
people in 
the eye?" 
Chip asks.

Plankton nods. 
"It's not that I 
don't try to, 
sometimes it's just
too intense," he 
explains. "It's like
looking into the 
sun. It's just to
much. It's part of 
being on the 
spectrum."

Chip nods, his 
curiosity unabated. 
"But why?" he 
presses on. "Why 
can't you look at 
someone's eyes?"
Plankton sighs, his 
eye fluttering closed. 
"Look, Chip, it's like 
my brain's got a lot 
going on," he says. 
"Looking someone 
in the eye is like...
like uncomfortable,
I don't know‽ But 
when I'm with
people I trust, like
you and mom, it's 
easier. Eye contact 
can be really intense, and 
it can be overwhelming. 
But I know we don't
mean it that way. It's just
how I experience it."

"What about 
when you talk about
the same thing over
and over again?" 
Chip asks, his voice
careful. Plankton nods. 
"That's perseveration,"
he says. "It's like my brain
can't let go of an idea. It's
not that I don't want to talk
about other things; it's just
that the idea keeps
spinning around in my
head. I know it might get
repetitive, for others."

Karen smiles at
Chip's earnestness.

"Dad," Chip asks,
his voice gentle.
"What's your favorite
thing about being 
autistic?"

Plankton's antennae 
twitched in surprise.
"Favorite thing?" he
repeats. He thinks for
a moment, his eye
focused on the ceiling.
"Well," he says slowly,
his antennae lifting a
little, "I guess it's my
ability to focus on
tiny details that others
might miss, sometimes."

Chip's eyes light up.
"Like when you make
those amazing
inventions?" he asks, 
his voice filled with
admiration.

Plankton's antennae 
perk up slightly, a
tiny smile gracing his
face. "Yes," he says.
"Exactly. It's like my
brain is wired to see
the world in a unique
way, and that helps me
solve problems or create
things others might not 
think of."

Chip nods, his mind 
spinning with questions.
"What about how you 
talk in a monotone?"
he asks. "Is that part of it?"
Plankton nods again.
"Yes," he says. "It's
because my brain doesn't
interpret emotions the
way other people do. It's
hard for me to express
how I'm feeling, like in my
voice sometimes. So in every
day things, my voice will be
flat. But don't worry,
it doesn't mean I'm not
feeling them. I'm just...
different, at showing it."

Karen watches them, 
proud of Chip for
his empathy. "Dad,
what about people
skills?" Chip asks. "Why 
do you have trouble?"

Plankton sighs. "It's
because autism affects
how I understand unsaid
social cues," he explains.
"Sarcasm, faces, those
things are like a
different language to
me. I have to learn them.
It's hard to read people,
to know what they're
feeling just by looking.
And sometimes, I say things
that don't come out right,
because I don't always get
how they'll be taken."

Chip nods, his eyes
still wide with curiosity.
"But you're so good at
understanding mechanics
and inventing," he points out.
"If you can do that, why is
underst--"

Plankton's antennae
twitch. "It's a different
kind of understanding,"
he says. "My brain is good
at patterns and logistics.
Social interactions are more
complex, less predictable. I
might say something in a way
that ends up sounding rude,
but it's not intentional.
It's just... I miss the subtleties.
And people usually get upset
if you don't get their jokes
or understand their expressions.
When me and Krabs fed Jenkins
our burger, he got food poisoning.
I wanted to comfort Krabs by
showing we're not to blame, and
I said, 'Jenkins is old' and, I've
nothing against elderly. Krabs
got mad, so I wanted to tweak
the burger recipe, but Krabs’s
had none of it. So that's why
we became enemies."

Chip nods, his eyes
still glued to his dad.
"But what about your
relationship with Mom?"
he asks. "It's complicated,"
Plankton admits. "Sometimes
my autism can make it hard
for me to understand what
she's feeling, but we've learned
each other's patterns. And
she's really patient with me."
He glances at Karen, who
smiles back, her eyes
shimmering with affection.
"We usually cook at home or
order takeout because crowded
restaurants can make me really
overwhelmed. She gets it."

"But what if she's sad and
you don't know it?" Chip
persists. "Well, she'll tell me,"
Plankton says, his antennae
twitching. "And if she needs
something, she'll explain."
He looks over at Karen, who
nods in agreement. "It's a
team effort, buddy," she says.
"We communicate in our
own way."

"But what if you don't get
what she's saying?" Chip
asks, his brow furrowed.
"Then I'll ask for help,"
Plankton responds. "Or she'll
find another way to tell me.
We've had our ups and
downs, but we figured it out.
It's not always easy, but we
love each other. And she
knows that I'm trying my
best to understand her."

"But what about others,
Dad?" Chip asks. "Have
you ever felt left out?"

Plankton's antennae droop.
"Yes," he admits, his voice
quiet. "There are times
when I don't know what's
going on, or I miss a joke.
And it can be lonely and
tiresome. I was the nerdy
weirdo, but Krabs was poor
so we were both outcasts.
But once Krabs perfected
the burger recipe for himself,
that changed. My only friend
left me behind. But yes, kids
went out of their way to make
sure I was excluded. They'd
see I was 'quirky' and a bit of
a loner. They'd say I was that
slur you used the other day."

Chip's eyes widen
in horror. "But that's not
right," he says. "And I'm sor—"
"I know," Plankton nods.
"But it's how some people
see it. And it's hard to
explain to them that it's not
my choice. That I'm just
different, not less. But they
didn't care."

"But what about Mr.
Krabs?" Chip asks, his voice
small. "Couldn't he help?"
Plankton's antennae twitch.
"Krabs didn't know about
my disability, he still doesn't.
But now that we're rivals, I
doubt he'd change his ways.
He's a simple creature, driven
by greed. I don't think he's
gonna suddenly understand
neurodiversity if he found out!"

Chip looks down at the
floor, his eyes filling
with tears. "But why, Dad?"
he whispers. "Why did you
have to be different?"

Plankton's antennae
twitch gently as he
considers his son's
question. "Everyone's
different, Chip," he says.
"Some people have two
eyes, some like me have one.
Some people are tall, some
like me are short. And some, like
me, have brains that
work a little differently. 
Remember I told you when I
was born, I got stuck and that
changed my brain structure?
Well, it's like that. It's just
how I ended up, and it's not
something anyone could
have prevented."

Chip nods, his
thoughts racing. "But what
about friends?" he asks.
"Do you have any that
understand you?"
Plankton's smile is sad.
"Friends are hard to come
by," he admits. "But I have
you and your mom, and that's
enough. And there's SpongeBob.
He's a good... acquaintance?"
He pauses. "He tries to be kind to
everyone, but sometimes, well,
his enthusiasm can be a bit
much. But he's a good egg."

Chip looks over at
his mom, who nods, her
eyes shimmering with pride.
"Dad's right," she says. "Now
it's getting late, which means
bedtime. And you need to
let him rest." She stands up,
stretching slightly.

Plankton nods. "Yeah, I
really need some sleep."

new dare to be different meancore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 12

Chip climbs into the bed,
his mind racing. "Can I
be with you?" he asks, his
voice tentative.

Plankton opens his eye
slightly, looking over at
his son. "If you're quiet,"
he says, his voice tired but
not unkind. "But remember,
I might stir a bit.."

Chip nods, climbing into
the bed. He lies down
next to his father, 
his heart racing. Plankton's
arm moves slightly, to avoid
touching Chip's shoulder.

Chip lies there, his mind 
spinning with the new
information about his
father. He thinks about
his dad's struggles, his
dad's brilliance, and his
dad's love for them.

Plankton's breathing
becomes even, a sign
he's falling asleep.
Karen kisses Chip's forehead
and whispers, "I'm proud
of you, for wanting to
understand."

Chip lies there, his
thoughts racing.
This is the same dad who
invents amazing things,
who tells the best bedtime
stories, and who loves him
so much.

He looks over at his
dad, who's now asleep,
single eye closed, 
his chest rising and
falling steadily as he
snores lightly. Chip
can't help but wonder
what it's like to live in
his world, where sounds
are too loud, lights too
bright, and people are
too confusing. But he's
determined to learn.

The room is quiet,
except for Plankton's
snores as Chip lies there
thinking about what his
dad said. His heart
swells with love and 
understanding.

Eventually, Plankton starts
to mumble in his sleep, his
voice a whispered jumble of
nonsensical words that make
no sense to Chip. "Moh-moh-
molasses... nuns..." Chip
frowns, deciding to nudge his
mom awake. "Mom," he 
whispers, tugging on her arm 
gently.

Karen's eyes open, and
she looks at her son, 
concerned. "What is it?"
she whispers back.

Chip points 
to Plankton.
"Dad's talking. 
Is he ok?"

Karen nods,
her eyes sleepy.
"It's just his brain
working through it,"
she whispers back.
"And sometimes
even when he's 
sleeping, his thoughts
are still busy. It's 
happened before. It's
his brain dreaming,"
she says. "It's nothing 
specific, just his mind
processing. He'll 
probably wake up 
not remembering a 
thing. Pretty much
like a word salad."
Chip nods as Plankton
resumes his regular
snoring. "Okay," he says,
his voice still hushed.

It makes him
want to protect his dad
even more, to create
a world where his dad
doesn't have to feel so
overwhelmed.

As Chip drifts off to
sleep, he makes a silent
promise to be the best
support he can.

The next morning
Chip woke up with a
determined look on his
face. He had an idea to
help Plankton feel more
comfortable and understood.
He grabbed a piece of
paper and some crayons
from his desk and set to
work, his young mind
whirring with thoughts.

He drew a picture of
his dad with a cape
on, flapping his hands
as he soared over the
city, and labeled it 'Super
Sensory Dad'. He hoped 
for it to possibly help
his dad feel seen and
even understood. Chip
smiled as he wrote a
message next to the
picture: 'Neuro-awesomeness
is AUsome. From your
sidekick Chip, who loves
your special powers!' Chip
felt so excited; his dad will
love that!

Plankton stirred
slightly, his antennae
twitching as the dawn
light crept through
the blinds. He blinked open
his eye, sitting up as
Chip came into view,
holding the drawing in
his hand.

"What's this?" Plankton
asked, his voice still
raspy with sleep.

Chip handed him
the drawing, his heart
racing. "It's you," he
said, his voice filled
with excitement. "It's a
superhero. 'Super Sensory
Dad'. Because your
autism is a super power.
A special drawing, for my
special dad!" Chip beamed.

Plankton took the
picture, his antennae
twitching with surprise.
He studied it for a
moment, his eye
taking in the image
and caption.

new dare to be different meancore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 13

But instead of the joy
Chip had anticipated,
a flicker of discomfort
crossed Plankton's face.
Plankton's antennae
flattened as he looked
at the picture, his
expression unreadable.
"What's wrong, Dad?"
Chip asked, his
excitement fading as
he saw the tension in
his father's eye, for
Plankton's hand tightened
around the drawing, his
mouth a thin line.

"It's not a super power,"
Plankton said, his voice
sharp. "It's a disorder."
He threw the paper to the
ground. "It's not
something for you to
make a game out of."
Chip's eyes widened in
shock. "But, I thought...
you said it made you
special," he stuttered.

"Special?" Plankton's
voice grew louder, his
body tensing up. "I can't go
to the store without
flapping my hands. I can't
even look people in the
eye. That's not special,
Chip. I'm not your little
project." Chip's smile
disappeared, his eyes
filling with confusion. "I just
wanted to make you
feel better," he said, his
voice small.

"Well, it doesn't!" Plankton
snapped, his antennae
quivering. "It doesn't change
anything! You don't get to
just decide it's a super power
because you want it to be!"
Chip's eyes filled with tears as
he stared at his dad, who was
now sitting up in bed, his voice
rising with every word. "It's
not a game, Chip. It's my life!"
Karen awoke and sat up in bed,
concern etched on her face at
the commotion.

"Sheldon," she 
said, her voice 
calm, "what's 
going on?"

Plankton took a deep
breath, trying to 
regain his composure.
"He's making fun
of me," he said,
his voice quivering.

"I'm not making fun
of you, Dad," Chip said,
his eyes wide with fear.
"I just wanted to
make you hap–"

But Plankton's anger can't
be stopped. "I don't need
you to make it into
something it's not!"
he interrupted, his antennae
quivering with rage. "It's
not cute or heroic! It's
exhausting, confusing, and
often painful!"

Karen stood up. "What
happened?" She asks,
looking at them.

"I just made him a
drawing," Chip said, his
voice shaking. "To make
him feel better." He hands
it to her, and she looked at
it as understanding dawns
on her features.

"Plankton he didn't mean
to make fun," she said,
picking up the crumpled
paper. "He's trying to
understand and support you.
But I can see how it might
have upset you." Chip looks
confused. "But..."

"I know, honey," Karen cuts
in gently. "But let's remember,
your dad's had a hard time with
this his whole life. He's not used
to people trying to make
it seem... glamorous. It's just
his reality, not a costume
he can take off. Yet I know you
meant well." She turns to
Plankton, her voice firm but
kind. "Honey, I know you're
upset, but you have to understand
Chip's just trying to connect
and show his love in his
own way. He's still learning."

Plankton's antennae stop
quivering, and he sighs. "I
know, Karen," he says. "But it's
NOT a toy, it's NOT A GAME!"

Karen nods, setting
the drawing down on the
dresser. "I know, sweetie,"
she says softly. "But let's
talk to Chip abou–"

But Plankton's anger isn't
abating. "Why can't he ju—"

Karen cuts him off. "Let's not
do this, okay?" she says, her
tone firm but gentle. "Let's
not fight."

But Plankton can't let it
go. "It's not fair!" he says,
his body tense but shaky.
"I have to deal with this
every day, and now you
want me to pretend it's
never been anything but
positive?" He felt his ears
ringing and Karen knew
the look of overstimulation
well. But he's not quite
done with anger yet.

"Dad," Chip says, his voice
small. "I didn't mean to make
yo--" "I SAID ENOUGH!" Plankton
shouts, and Karen knew that a
seizure's edge was near. The
overwhelming emotion was
too much for him to handle,
his headache likely growing
by the second.

The room grew tense,
his antennae quivering with
frustration. He stood up,
his body shaking slightly,
his eye unfocused. "I DON'T
LIKE IT!" he yelled. Karen saw
the first signs of a seizure
starting to form as his breaths
quickened. "Plankton, you outta
sit down," Karen urged, knowing
what stress can do.

Sure enough, his
body jerked, and
he stumbled slightly.
Chip's eyes grew wide
in terror as he saw his
dad's knees give way.
Karen rushed over
to Plankton, knowing
his seizures like the 
back of her hand, 
lowering Plankton
gently to the floor.
Plankton's eye rolls
back into his head,
his limbs jerking
uncontrollably as he
was gripped by the
seizure.

Chip watched,
his heart racing.
This was the second
time he'd seen this, and
it was just as terrifying.
"It's okay, honey," she
whispered to Chip. "This
is what we talked about.
Remember? Stay calm,
don't touch him, and
it'll be over soon."
Chip nodded, his eyes
fixed on his father.

Karen quickly
moved any sharp
objects out of the way,
then she knelt beside
Plankton, her hand
steadying his head, her
voice calm and soothing.
"It's okay," she murmured.
"I'm here." Chip felt guilty
as his father's body
shook violently.

Chip felt his throat
tighten as he watched,
his heart racing. He knew
he had to be strong for
his dad. He took a deep
breath and whispered,
"I'm sorry," hoping the
words would penetrate
the chaos of Plankton's
mind. "It's all my fa-"

But he's cut off by his
mother's firm voice. "Chip,
now is not the time," Karen
says, her eyes never leaving
Plankton's convulsing
form. "This is NOT your
fault. Just stay calm and
keep talking to him. It'll
help him feel safe."

Chip nods, his voice
steadying as he watches
his dad's body contort.
He speaks softly, his words
meant to soothe. "Dad," he
whispers, "I love you. It's
okay, you're okay."

new dare to be different meancore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 14

The seizure seems to
last an eternity, each
second stretching into 
a minute. "Just keep 
talking to him. That's 
all we can do. Keep the
drawing out of his line of 
sight," Karen instructs, her
hands steady and calm.

Chip nods, his eyes 
never leaving his
father's face. "It's ok,
Dad," he repeats as
he folds up the paper.

Plankton's body stiffens
then relaxes, the seizure
passing into the postictal
phase. His single eye opens
slowly, unfocused. Karen
holds his hand, her voice
calm. "You're okay, you're
safe," she repeats.

Plankton's speech 
is slurred, a child-
like lilt to his words.
"Yi," he says. "Loog?"
He looks around, 
confusion clouding 
his features. Chip's 
heart breaks, but he
knows what to do.

"Hi, Dad," Chip says,
his voice gentle.
"You had a seizure,
but it's over now.
You're safe." Plankton's
eye widens, trying to
to sit up, but Karen
eases him back down.

"Shh," she whispers,
stroking his forehead.
"Easy, love. We're
right here."

Plankton's eye darts
around the room, his
speech coming out
in jumbles. "Ka...ken...
Utz...?" His voice
cracks, and Chip's heart
swells with love and
fear.

"It's okay, Daddy,"
Chip says, his voice
steady. "You're safe.
I'm sorry if I hu-"

But Plankton cuts him
off, his speech still
slurred, his thoughts
scattered. "Ha... happy?
Haff... h-elp?"

Karen's heart breaks as
she sees the fear in
his eye. "Yes, darling,"
she says, her voice
soothing. "We're here to
help. It's okay." She turns
to Chip. "Can you get a
stim toy?" Chip nods,
quickly retrieving a
soft, squishy ball from
the shelf. He brings it
over, placing it gently
by Plankton's hand.

"Dad, look," Chip
says, showing
Plankton the ball.
"Can you hold it?"

Plankton's hand
reaches for the ball,
his movements
slow and clumsy. He
squeezes it tentatively,
his face contorting
as if trying to remember
what it's for. His eye
is glazed, and his voice
slurred. "Buh," he says.
Karen nods at Chip.
"Good," she whispers.
"Keep it up."

Chip takes a deep
breath. "Can you
roll the ball over?"

Plankton looks at
his hand. "O... kay,"
he says, his voice
thick with confusion.
He rolls the ball
to Chip, his eye 
following its
path. "Ba... baball," he
mumbles. Chip's eyes
well up with tears
but he forces a smile.
"That's right, Dad,"
Chip says, his voice
shaky but hopeful
as he rolls the ball
back to him again.
"It's a ball. You can
roll it back to me."

The simple act of
interaction seems
to help Plankton.
He rolls the ball
to Chip, antennae
twitching slightly.
"Ga... game?" he
asks, his voice still
out of it.

Chip nods, his
smile growing.
"Yeah, Dad," he 
says. "We're 
playing catch.
Just like we
always do. Do
you remembe---"

But Plankton's
eye glazes over
again, his hand
dropping the
stim toy. "G-game,"
he stammers, his
speech jumbled.

"It's okay, Dad,"
Chip says, his voice
soothing despite his
concern. "You're safe
now." He picks up the
ball, rolling it back
to his father gently.

Plankton watches
the ball's journey with
sluggish curiosity, his
eye still unfocused.
"M-make... it... go?"
His hand reaches
out, his grip unsteady as
he tries to roll the ball
back. It wobbles before
finally reaching Chip.
"Good job, Dad," Chip
praises, his heart heavy.
"You're doing great."

Karen's eyes
are filled with
love. "Good
Chip, just keep
talking to him,"
she whispers.

Chip nods,
his voice shaky.
"Dad, remember
we talked about
how you see the
world?" Plankton's
single eye flickers,
his antennae moving
slightly. "You're so
good at making
things, because
you notice details
others don't. That's
because of your
autism. It's not a
weakness, it's a
strength."

Plankton's gaze
focuses a bit more,
his eye searching
Chip's face. "Ma...
make... things?" He
whispers. "Ma...
make... bah?"

Chip nods,
his smile gentle.
"You make amazing
things, Dad. Your
inventions are like
none other because of
how your brain works.
It's not a bad thing," he
says, trying to reassure
his father. "It's what makes
you, you."

Plankton's hand
shakes as he
fumbles with the
stim toy. "B-but...
Ka... Chi... Utch...?"

Karen sighs, her
heart aching. "It's okay,
love," she says, her
voice a gentle whisper.
"We're here. You're okay."

Plankton's hand
continues to fumble
with the ball, his
movements erratic and
slightly uncoordinated.
"Ma... mesh... ba...
baball?" he mumbles,
his brain still in a
state of confusion.
Chip nods, his
heart aching. "It's
okay, Dad," he says,
his voice filled with
patience. "You just had
a seizure. You need
some time to recover."

Karen watches as Chip
interacts with Plankton,
his words gentle and
understanding. She's
proud of how he's
handling the situation,
despite the fear that must
be coursing through
his young body. She
smiles at him, giving
a small nod of
encouragement.
Plankton's gaze
shifts, his eye
still not quite focused
as he laughs softly.

"Ma... m-m-make me,"
he stammers, his
voice childlike in 
innocence. "Meeeeeee.."

Karen's heart clenches
at the sound of his
babbling. She knows
this phase all too
well, the aftermath
of a seizure leaving
Plankton in a vulnerable,
confused state. "We're
right here, baby," she
coos, her hand
stroking his arm. She
knew the neuroregression
he experiences all too well.

new dare to be different seizurecore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 15

Chip's eyes are
filled with worry
as he watches his
father's struggle.
"Dad," he says, his
voice soothing. "We're
here. It's okay." He
reaches for the ball,
yet Plankton's hand
flaps it away, his gaze
distant. He starts to
laugh again.

"Ma... ma... make me
happy," Plankton says,
his voice a mix of
confusion and joy.
Karen's eyes water as
she sees the innocence
in her husband's gaze,
his autism making
his thoughts a tangled
mess. "You're okay,"
she whispers, her voice
soothing, but she plays 
along, knowing it's part of
his post-seizure state.
"Yes, love," she says.

Plankton giggles, his
hands flapping slightly.
"Ma... me... make... happy,"
he repeats, his eye
locking onto the squishy
ball. It's a sight that
makes Chip's heart
ache, but he joins in,
his voice gentle. "We're
playing catch, remember?"
He rolls the ball back
to Plankton, who's hand
reaches for it again,
his movements more
purposeful now. His
fingers graze the toy,
his laughter subsiding.
"Ga... good?" he says,
his voice a soft echo.

Karen nods, her eyes
brimming with tears.
"Yes, baby," she says.
"You're doing so good."

Plankton's hand closes
around the ball, his
grip firming as he tries
to focus, his antennae
twitching slightly as he
starts fully coming back,
groaning as he leans on
to his hands. He gets
himself upright, a bit 
confused/disoriented.

Chip's heart races as
he sees his father's
condition improve. "Dad,"
he says, his voice
filled with hope.
"Do you want to sit down?"
Plankton looks at
his son, his eye blinking
slowly as he tries to
process the words.
"Sit... down?" he
repeats. Karen nods,
gesturing to the bed.
"What happened?"
he asks, his voice
weak but growing 
more clear.

Karen sighs, her
hands shaking slightly.
"You had a seizure,
honey," she says, her
voice gentle. "But it's
over now."

Plankton's eye widen
slightly as he looks
around the room,
his mind slowly piecing
together the events.
"Oh," he murmurs, his
hand moving to his head.
"The... drawing?"

Karen nods, her voice
soft. "You got upset.
You had a seizure."

Plankton looks down
at the folded paper,
his expression a mix of
embarrassment and anger.
"I didn't mean to scare
you," he says, his voice
barely above a whisper.
"I'm s-sorry."

Chip's eyes widen,
his heart racing. "Dad,
I just wanted to make
you feel better."

Plankton's gaze
meets Chip's, his
expression filled with
remorse. "I know," he says,
his voice a mere murmur.
"But sometimes, it's just...
too much." He sighs, his
body still trembling slightly.
"I didn't mean to..."

Karen wraps an arm
around Plankton, her
eyes filled with love
and understanding. "It's
okay," she whispers. "We
know." She turns to Chip,
her expression earnest.
"Your dad's brain works 
differently, Chip. It's not 
his fault. And, it's not 
your fault for trying to 
be nice. We all just
need to find better ways to
support each other."

Chip nods, his eyes
still on Plankton. "I'm
sorry, Dad," he says,
his voice thick with
emotion. "I didn't know
it'd be rude, I just made
it to show how much I care."
Plankton's gaze softens
slightly, his antennae
twitching as he processes
his son's words.

"I know you did, buddy,"
Plankton says, his speech
still slurred. "But autism
isn't a costume or a
game. It's how I am."
He takes a deep breath,
his hand finding Karen's.
"It's hard for me to
explain sometimes. It's
just... it's complicated."
Chip nods, his eyes
filling with tears. "But
you're still my hero,"
he says, his voice shaky.
"And I'll always love you
no matter wh-"

But Plankton cuts
him off, his voice firm.
"I understand," he says,
his antennae flattening.
"I l-love y-you too. Yet
I'm not... I'm not okay
with this right now."

Karen looks at Chip,
her gaze pleading.
"Honey, why don't you
sit down? Let your dad
have a moment."

Chip nods, his
eyes brimming with
tears. He sits on the
edge of the bed,
his heart racing as he
watches his father.
Plankton's eye is
now focused, but the
exhaustion is palpable.

"I just want to
make sure you're okay,"
Chip says, his voice
barely a whisper. "I
don't want you to be
up-"

But Plankton shakes
his head. Karen sighs.
"Chip, he's okay. He
just needs his own
moment. He's not up
to talking right now."
Chip nods, his eyes
still on his father.

Chip watches as his 
dad's face twists into 
an expression of 
sadness. "It's not
a game," he murmurs,
talking to himself as
Karen recognized it as
his stim.

"I know," Chip says
quickly. "But it's part
of who you are. And
that's am-" "Chip,"
Karen interrupts, her
tone firm but gentle.
"Come sit by me on
my bed," Karen says,
getting off Plankton's
bed. Chip does so,
sitting on the bed
placed adjacent.

"Chip," Karen begins
quietly, "Your dad's 
talking to himself in
a stim, and it's not
for us to interrupt.
He's in his own 
personal space, and
he dislikes that right
now. Remember, his
stims are only for him
and we shouldn't make
a fuss about it. It's his
way, and he personally
gets frustrated when we
needlessly interrupt."

Chip nods, his
throat tight with
unshed tears. "I
just don't want him
to be sad," he says,
his voice quivering.

Karen hugs him
close. "I know, baby,"
she whispers. "But
sometimes, it's okay
for people to be sad.
And sometimes, the
best thing we can do
is just let them be. We
can't fix everything. All
his emotions are valid."
Chip nods, his eyes
still on Plankton.
He whispers, "I'll
always be here for
you, Dad."

Plankton's antennae
twitch as he hears
his son's words, his
stimming pausing briefly.
He looks over, his eye
meeting Chip's. "Thank
you," he murmurs. "I...
I just n-need a moment."
Chip nods, his heart
swelling with love
and regret.

new dare to be different seizurecore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 16

Karen sits down
next to Chip, pulling
him into a hug. "It's
going to be ok," she
whispers. "And he's
proud of you for
trying to understand."

Plankton's stimming
continues, his hand
moving in repetitive
motions, his gaze
fixed on the wall. Karen
can feel the tension in
his body slowly dissipate.

He starts to murmur,
his words barely
audible. "Did... I do
something wrong?" 
He mumbles as he
pulls his knees up to
his chest, now rocking
back and forth. "Say
others don't want me
because I'm... dif-fer-ent."
The words are like a
knife to Chip's heart,
but he knows not to
interrupt.

Plankton's voice
cracks. "Why can't they
see that I'm more than...
I'm not a monster,"
he whispers, his voice
full of pain. Chip's eyes
brim with emotion.

Karen squeezes 
Chip's hand as
Plankton's mumbling
continues, his voice
filled with a
world of hurt. "I... I
just want to be,"
he says, his hands
flapping slightly as he
speaks. "But I... I can't."
His voice is a jumbled
mess of thoughts, but
his pain is clear.

Chip's heart breaks
hearing his dad's
self-doubt, his young
mind trying to grasp
the depth of Plankton's
lifelong struggle. He
wants to run to him,
to tell him he's not
different, he's just...
unique. But Karen's
grip holds him back.
"He needs this,"
she whispers. "To
let out his thoughts."

Plankton's voice
continues to murmur.
"I'm not... not... not,"
he repeats, his voice
getting softer with
each word. It's as
if he's trying to convince
his own brain that he's
worthy of love and
acceptance.

Chip watches, his
heart in his throat.
He's never seen his dad
this vulnerable, this
broken. It's a stark
contrast to the cunning,
determined man he
knows from their battles
against Mr. Krabs. He
wants to comfort him,
to tell him that he's
enough just as he is, but
knows he needs to give
his dad space, feeling
his own tears fall as he
listens to his dad's
whimpers, filled with
self-doubt and fear of
being misunderstood.

Plankton's body
trembles as he
continues to rock,
his antennae drooping.
He's curling into
himself, a protective
shell against the
world that's often too
loud, too bright, too much.
His voice is a soft
whisper, a plea to
his own mind. "I'm not
a burden," he says,
his words almost silent.

Chip carefully selects a
spinner from the nightstand,
his hands trembling slightly.
He approaches Plankton,
his heart racing. "Dad,"
he says softly, holding
out the toy. "Would you li—"

"No!" Plankton yells, 
his voice sharp. 
"Don't touch.."
Chip freezes.
Karen stands up,
turning to Chip.

"Chip," she says
gently, "remember,
his space is his when
he's like this."
Chip nods, his eyes
filling with tears as
he puts the spinner
right back on the
nightstand the way
as he found it.

"But he's hurting,"
Chip whispers,
his voice filled with
despair. "I don't want
him to—"

Karen nods,
her eyes reflecting
his pain. "I know,"
she says, her voice
soft. "But this is how
he deals with it. And
we have to respect
that. Remember, he's
trying to sort through
his feelings without
getting overwhelmed."

Chip sniffs, his
hands clutching the
bedspread. "But w---"

"Chip," Karen says
firmly. "Let him be.
We're here if he needs us,
but this is his process."
Chip nods, his eyes
still on Plankton.

Plankton's whispers
turn into a soft,
almost inaudible,
humming. "Hmmmmm.."

Chip's eyes are
fixed on his dad,
his heart breaking
as he watches him
from the bed.

Plankton's humming
increases slightly in
volume. Karen sighs.
"It's okay," she whispers.
"This is your dad's way
to calm down. To find
his center again."
Chip nods, his eyes
never leaving Plankton's
form. He's seen his
dad upset before, but
never like this. It's a
sight that makes him
feel so powerless. He
wipes away a stray tear.

The room is silent
except for Plankton's
hums. Karen watches her
husband with a mix of
love and sadness, her
hand still clutching Chip's.

Plankton's rocking
slows down, his hums
becoming softer until
they're barely a breath.
Karen can see the
exhaustion in his posture,
his shoulders drooping.
"It's okay," she whispers.

Plankton's eye finally
meets Karen's, and she
sees the fear in it, the
knowledge of his own
vulnerability. She nods,
her eyes filled with
understanding. "Come
here," she says, patting the
space beside her on
the bed. Plankton's antennae
twitch, and he looks
uncertain. But then,
slowly, he unfurls himself,
his legs swinging over
the side of the bed, his
bare feet touching the
floor as he goes over to
Karen's bed.

He sits down, his body
still tense. Karen opens
her arms, and Plankton
collapses into them, his
body curling into a ball
as he presses into her,
his antennae drooping.
"It's okay," she whispers,
stroking his back. "You're
safe." Chip watches, his
heart in his throat.
He's never seen his dad
this way before. So
vulnerable, so... clingy.
It's strange, but also
somehow comforting.
Plankton is usually
so independent, so
strong. But here, in
this moment, he's just a
scared, overwhelmed
person who needs comfort.

Plankton scoots closer.
"M-my head hurts," he
mumbles, his voice
still shaky. Karen nods,
her eyes filled with
sympathy. "I know, love.
It's part of the overwhelm.
Just let it pass."

Chip watches his
parents, feeling like
an outsider in this
intimate moment. He
wipes away a tear.

Plankton's grip
tightens around
Karen's. "I'm here," 
she whispers,
rocking him slightly.
"It's okay."

Chip's eyes are
fixed on his dad,
his heart breaking
for him. He's never
seen him so... needy.

new dare to be different stimcore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 17

Plankton's body relaxes
slightly, his breathing
evening out as Karen
continues to stroke his
back. Chip feels a
lump in his throat. He
wants to help, to ease
his dad's pain. "I never
meant to hurt you," he
whispers, his voice
hoarse with emotion.

Karen looks over, her
expression a mix of
love and sadness. "You
didn't, sweetie," she says.
"But sometimes, even
good intentions can
be overwhelming for your
dad. It's not your fault.
Just like it's not his."

Plankton's antenna
twitches, his gaze 
shifting to Chip.
He takes a deep 
breath as Karen's 
hands continue to 
stroke his back. His 
body relaxes a little
more, his grip on 
Karen loosening.
"Dad?" Chip whispers, 
his voice tentative.
Plankton eye opens.

"Can I...?" Chip 
gestures towards
his dad, his hand 
now outstretched.

Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly, his 
eye darting to Karen.
She nods, her smile
reassuring. "If you like,"
she whispers.

With tentative movements,
Chip's hand reaches for his
father's shoulder. Plankton 
flinches slightly. "Gentle."

Chip nods, his touch
featherlight as he rests
his hand on Plankton's 
shoulder. "It's okay,"
he murmurs. Plankton's
body relaxes a fraction
more under the warmth
of his son's hand, his eye
now closing.

Karen's eyes meet
Chip's, and she smiles
weakly, her gaze filled
with gratitude. "Thank
you," she mouths. Chip
nods, his hand still on
his dad. Plankton's 
humming has stopped,
his breathing steadying
as Karen holds him.

For the first time,
Chip feels a profound
sense of understanding
for his father. He's
seen his strength in
the face of Mr. Krabs'
competition, his genius
in his inventions, but
now he sees his softer
side, his vulnerability.
And it makes him love
his dad even more.

Plankton's breaths have
now turned into a soft
snore, his body relaxed
against Karen's. Chip
can see the exhaustion
in every line of his
father's face, a testament
to the battle he's just
faced. "He's asleep,"
Karen whispers, her voice
filled with love and
relief.

Chip nods, his hand
still on Plankton's shoulder.
"Should we...?"
Karen shakes her head.
"Let him rest," she
says, her voice a mere
whisper. "He's had
a long day."

Plankton's clinginess
was a stark contrast to
his usual demeanor.
Karen knew all too
well the emotional toll
his seizures took on
him. But it was the
first time Chip had
seen his dad so...
dependent on someone
else for comfort. It
was jarring, but it also
made him realize the
strength that Plankton
held within himself, the
courage to face, alone.

As Plankton sleeps,
his snores are rhythmic.
It's a sound that
Karen finds soothing,
a sign that he's at peace. 
His body seems to melt
into her side, his
muscles unclenched.

Chip watches him,
his mind racing with
thoughts. He's seen
his dad's fiery temper,
his ingenious inventions,
his unwavering drive,
but never this, raw and
exhausted. It's a stark
contrast that makes
his chest ache.

Plankton's snores
remain steady, his body
completely relaxed
against Karen's side.
Karen looks over at Chip,
her expression a mix
of love and sadness.
"He's been through a lot,"
she whispers. "But he's
stronger than anyone I
know." Chip nods, his
hand still resting lightly
on his father's shoulder.

Karen gently shifts 
Plankton, getting 
ready to tuck him
into his bed, his 
snores unchanged,
his mind resting.

Karen carefully 
slides her arm from
underneath Plankton's
head, her movements
practiced and gentle.
Chip watches, his eyes
never leaving his father's
face, as if afraid to miss
anything. Plankton's
snores hitch, but 
don't stop.

As Karen pulls the
covers over Plankton,
his snores don't miss
a beat. His body sags
against the pillow,
his antennae still.

Chip watches his dad
sleep, a sight that
both comforts and
saddens him. He's
seen Plankton's fiery
determination in
their battles against
Mr. Krabs, but now
his father seems so
small, so vulnerable.

Karen nods to Chip,
whispering, "Why don't
you go to your room?
I'll keep an eye on
him." Chip hesitates,
his hand still on Plankton's
shoulder. "But what if
he wakes up?"

Chip's concern is
palpable, but Karen's
smile is reassuring.
"I'll wake you if he
needs you," she promises.
"But he's in a good
place right now. He
just needs rest."
Chip nods, his
hand lingering on
Plankton's shoulder
for a moment longer.
He gently withdraws it,
his gaze still locked
on his father. "Okay,"
he whispers, his voice
barely audible.

Karen stands up,
her movements silent
as she crosses the
room. "You've had a
long day too," she
says softly, her hand
on Chip's shoulder. "Why
don't you get some
sleep as well? Your dad's
got an appointment
tomorrow with his
sensory therapist."

But Chip's eyes
widen. "What‽"

"It's okay," Karen
whispers, her hand
on Chip's shoulder.
"It's just to help him
and us understand
his senses better."

The next morning
Karen wakes Chip
up. "We're about to
go; I'll wake your dad."

Chip nods sleepily,
his eyes still adjusting
to the light. He
walks into the room
to find Plankton still
asleep, his body
still curled into a
tiny ball, his snores
steady and deep.

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 18

Karen moves quietly.
She gently shakes him.
"Plankton, wake up,"
she whispers. "The
therapist."

Plankton's antenna
twitches, his eye
slowly opening. "Oh,
right," he mumbles,
his voice groggy. "He
usually comes over
when Chip's at school
or someth-"

Plankton startled at
a knock on the front
door, the sensory
therapist arriving for
the session. Chip
follows his parents to
open the door.

The therapist, a calm
and kind octopus,
enters the room, her
arms filled with toys
and devices. She
smiles warmly at
Plankton. "Good
morning," she says.
"And who's this young
man I see?" She looks
at Chip. Chip smiles shyly.
"Our son Chip," Karen said,
introducing her son.
"He's here to learn too."
The therapist nods, her
eyes understanding. "It's
important for everyone to
understand, isn't it?" she
says, her voice gentle.
Karen turns to Chip. "So
Chip, this is Dr. Marla."

"Hello," Dr. Marla
says, coming in
to the living room.
"I've known your
father and worked
with him for ages.
Let's all sit on the
living room floor."

Chip nods, his heart
racing. This is the
first time he's met
someone who's known
his dad's secret. He
sits down next to
Plankton, who's now 
fully alert as they all
sit in a circle.

Dr. Marla opens
a bag filled with
various sensory
toys. "Plankton," she
says, her tone gentle,
"I assume your son
has learned about
your condition. How'd
that come about?"
Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly. "It was
an accident," he says,
his voice a mix of
embarrassment and
resignation. "But it led
to... to a good
discussion? It was
when he saw me having
one of my seizures.."

Chip looks down at
his hands, feeling
his cheeks grow warm
as he remembers that
moment. Karen's hand
finds his, giving it a
squeeze. "It's okay,"
she whispers. "You
can talk about it. Now
is the time to ask, Chip."

Dr. Marla nods. "And
how has that affected
your father and son 
relationship?" She asks.
Chip looks up, his eyes
meeting hers. "It's...
it's different," he says.
"But in a good way, I
think." He glances at
Plankton, who nods in
agreement. "I've learned
so much about his...
his autism. And I know
now that he's not just
being mean, sometimes."

Dr. Marla nods, her
expression gentle. "That's
important," she says. "It's
about understanding and
compassion. Now, I'd
like to ask if there have
been any mishaps with
said relationship?"

Plankton's antennae droop,
his eye flicking to Karen.
"Well," Karen says, "There
was the time Chip tried
to be supportive, yet he
accidentally used a slur.."

The therapist nods
sympathetically. "It's a
learning process,"
she says, her tone
reassuring. "Missteps
are common when
navigating new
understandings." She
glances at Chip, her
expression encouraging.
"But it's how you
apologize and move forward
that shows growth. May I
ask what slur wa-"

"It was just a... a
silly thing I said," Chip
interjects, his voice
small. "I didn't kno—"

"It's okay," Dr. Marla
interrupts, her eyes
kind. "We're here to
learn together. What
was the slur?"

Chip swallows hard.
"I... I called him a
ret-" he admits, his
voice barely above a
whisper. "I just saw 
him acting..."

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his gaze dropping
to the floor. Karen's
grip on his hand tightens
slightly, a silent
reassurance. "It's okay,"
she whispers. "You didn't
kn-"

But Plankton's anger
surges up, cutting her
off. "No, it's not okay!"
he snaps, his voice
sharp. "I can't believe you
said it, again!" His eye
narrows, and he pulls
his hand away from
Karen's grasp.

Chip shrinks back, his
heart racing. He's never
seen his dad so upset
with him. "Dad, I'm
sorry," he stammers. "I
really di-"

But Plankton isn't
listening, his antennae
thrashing. "How could
you?!" he yells. "After
everything we talked
about!" His voice is
loud, echoing in the
small room, and Chip
flinches. Karen's eyes dart
between her husband and
son, her heart breaking
for both of them. She
knows Plankton's anger
is a defense mechanism,
a way to cope with
his pain. But she also
knows the pain Chip is
feeling, the guilt and
fear of losing his dad's
trust. "Plankton," she
says, her voice calm,
"Let's talk about this
with Dr. Marla; she's he--"

"No!" Plankton shouts,
his eye wide with rage.
He stands up, his fists
clenched as he grabs a
pillow, throwing it
across the room.

Karen flinches as
the pillow hits the
wall, but her voice
stays calm. "Plankton,
sweetie, let's breathe."
But Plankton's in
his own world, his
autism exacerbating
his reaction to the
painful word. He's
spinning, his antennae
thrashing as he searches
for something, anything
to release his anger.

"Dad," Chip whispers,
his voice trembling.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

But Plankton's in
the throes of his
tantrum, his body
moving erratically.
He grabs a book from
the shelf, tossing it
across the room.
Karen jumps up,
intervening before
anything else can fly.
"Plankton," she says
firmly, her voice a
steady force in the
storm of his anger.
"Look at me. Look at
me," she repeats, her
hands up, palms out.
"Just br-"

But Plankton isn't
calming down, his
eye wild, kicking a
chair over. Dr. Marla
approaches them.

"It's okay, Plankton,"
she says calmly. "Your
feelings are valid. But
right now, let's find a
better way to express
them." She holds out
a fidget toy, her voice
steady. "Remember,
this can he-"

But Plankton's anger
has taken over. He
swipes at the toy,
sending it flying. He
then moves to a shelf,
his hand grabbing a
picture frame. It hits
the floor. "No!" Karen
yells, but it's too late.

Dr. Marla approaches
Karen and Chip. "See,
this is the anger," she
says, her voice calm
and understanding. "It's
common with autism.
He's feeling overwhelmed
and doesn't know
how to express it.
This is Plankton's autism
flaring up, and this is
Plankton's way of
dealing with it. This is
Plankton's way of saying,
'I'm in pain, and I need
help.' Plankton is angry,
yes, but he's also scared." 

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 19

Dr. Marla gestures
to the corner of the
room, where there's a
calming space set up
specifically for times
like these. "Let's go over
there," she suggests,
her voice calm and
soothing. But Plankton's
rage is like a tornado,
spinning him in circles.

Karen tries to guide
him gently, but he
shrugs her off, his
body tight with tension.
Chip's eyes are wide
with fear, watching his
dad's outburst. He's seen
his father's temper
before, but not like
this, not with such
unbridled fury.

Plankton's movements
are jerky, his face
distorted with anger
and pain. His breaths
are quick, his eye
unfocused. Karen
moves closer, her voice
still calm. "Let's go
to this calming corner,
sweetie," she says. But
Plankton's rage doesn't
abate. He throws
another pillow, knocking
over a lamp. The room
is a mess, a reflection
of the turmoil within
him.

"Dad, please," Chip
whispers, his voice
shaking. He's never
seen his dad like this,
his usually stoic
facade crumbling into
a chaos of emotions.

Plankton's body jerks,
his limbs flailing as
his anger escalates.
He knocks over a table,
his eye unseeing as
his senses overload.

Karen moves quickly,
trying to guide him
to the calming corner,
but he resists.
"Dad, please," Chip
pleads, his voice trembling.
But Plankton's anger is
uncontrollable, knocking
over furniture, his eye
filled with a mix of
fury and fear.

The therapist's calm
demeanor remains. She
knows this is part of
his condition, and she
doesn't flinch as a
book flies past her.
"Plankton," Karen says,
her voice firm but
gentle, "we need to—"

But Plankton isn't
listening, his rage
consuming him. He
grabs another pillow,
squeezing it tightly. His
eye darts around the
room, searching for an
outlet for his anger.
"Daddy, no!" Chip
whispers, his voice
shaking. His heart is
racing as he watches
his father, his hero,
fall apart.

Chip tries to
intervene, but
Plankton swats 
his hand away, 
his movements
wild. "Dad," Chip 
says, his voice 
louder, more
urgent. "Please, 
let's talk!" But 
Plankton can't 
hear him, his 
mind lost in
his emotions. 
He throws the 
pillow, watching
it soar through
the air before it
slams into the wall,
the feathers 
exploding out.

The room is a
whirlwind of 
movement and 
noise, and Chip 
can't help but 
flinch with every 
crash and smash. 
Karen's eyes are
wide, her face
pale. She's seen 
this before, but
it never gets
any easier.

Plankton's breaths
are coming in
quick gasps, his
body trembling
with the effort
of containing his
emotions. He throws
his head back, letting
out a scream that 
echoes through
the room, his antennae
whipping around. 
Karen's heart is in
her throat, but she 
knows she has to 
stay calm.

"Plankton," she says,
her voice steady.
"Come to the
corner, please." She
holds out a hand, 
but Plankton's too
far gone to see it. 
He throws another
book, his screams
filling the room.

Karen's heart is
racing, but she
keeps calm.
"We're here for
you," she repeats.
Yet Plankton's rage
continues to build,
his movements 
more erratic.

The therapist 
watches, ready to
step in if needed.
"It's okay," she says
soothingly. "Let's all
stay calm and sa-"

But Plankton's meltdown
reaches a crescendo.
He stumbles. Chip's eyes
widen in horror as
his father's body jerks
uncontrollably. So
Chip gets the box of
all the sensory items
and brings it out. But
that ends up being a
huge mistake.

Plankton's flailing ends
up kicking, sending every
thing flying, everything 
slamming into the wall,
the plaster cracking. The
destroyed sensory box
and unfixable items are
what breaks the straw on
the camel's back. His eye
rolls back in his head,
his body going slack.

Karen gasps, her hand
flying to her mouth.
"Plankton!" she cries out,
catching him as he falls.
Chip jumps forward, his
fear turning to dread.
But the sensory therapist
has seen it all before. "Let
him down gently, his body
and his brain have just
decided to take a break."

"But he's not moving,"
Chip cries, as Karen
lowers Plankton. Dr.
Marla opens her bag.

"It's okay," she says
calmly, her voice steady.
"This is called a shut-
down. His body has
simply had enough. But
I've got some new stuff
for him. I'll show you as
I set it up." 

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 20

Dr. Marla opens her
bag, pulling out an
extending rod black
out curtain. "It kinda
looks like a shower
curtain, but these
curtains muffle sound
and block light."

Karen nods, her eyes
on Plankton's still
form. "We've tried
things before, but
this is new." Dr.
Marla nods. "We're
always learning,
aren't we?" She unfurls
the curtain around
Plankton, creating a
small, cozy space. "This
will help him feel
safe and reduce his
sensory input. It's
good for absence
seizures too."

Plankton's breathing
slows as he sinks
into the curtained
cocoon. Dr. Marla
continues. "It's like
you power off a tablet
to restart, and it will
gradually come back
on, right? That's what
Plankton's doing. And
as he 'reloads' he might
act like a newborn seeing
the world for the first time
as he wakes up. Meaning
he might not recognize
anything, speak incoherently,
etc. Plankton might take a
little while to fully come
back. Like a file downloads
it loads info little by little
until it's finished, only
then can you view it; so as
with Plankton's consciousness."

Karen nods, her eyes
never leaving her husband.
Her heart aches for him,
but she knows that he's safe,
his body cocooned in the
sensory curtain. Chip, still
shaking, watches his dad,
his eyes wide as Plankton's
eye blinks open. His gaze is
as if he's trying to
relearn his body. "K-kay?"

Karen smiles softly, her
voice gentle. "It's okay,
sweetie," she says, her
hand reaching for the
curtain. "Your dad's just
restarting, remember?"

Chip nods, his eyes
glued to Plankton's
form as he sits up,
his eyes blinking
slowly. "Hi," Chip
whispers, his voice
barely above a breath.

Plankton's eye
focuses on him, and
his mouth moves, but
only one word comes
out: "Hi." It's a
tiny victory, but
Chip feels a surge
of relief. He knows
his dad is okay, or
at least on his way
back to okay.
Dr. Marla nods.
"It's normal for
someone coming
out of a shut-
down to speak in
single words or not
at all for a while."

Karen strokes
Plankton's antenna.
"How do you feel?"
she asks softly.
Plankton's gaze is
vacant, his voice
weak. "Sedm."
Chip looks at him
confused, his heart
racing. "Dad?"
The therapist nods.
"It's normal," she says.
"After a shut-down,
his words may come
slowly. Give him
space, let him come
back to us."

Plankton blinks,
his eye unfocused.
"Mm." It's all he says,
his mouth moving
slightly, as if tasting
the air for words.
Karen nods encouragingly.
"Good job," she murmurs.
"You're doing great."
Chip feels like he's
watching a newborn
learn to speak again.

The therapist sits
beside Plankton, her
voice calm. "Would you
like a new fidget toy?"
"Buth," he mumbles, his
eye still glazed. His
brain isn't comprehending.

Karen nods, her hand
gently taking the toy.
"It's okay," she says, her
tone soothing. "You
just need to relax."
Plankton takes the
fidget toy, his hand
shaking. He clutches it,
his gaze unseeing.

Chip sits cross-
legged, his heart
pounding. He watches
his dad, his mind
racing. Why is he
like this? He's so
smart, so capable, but
right now, he seems
so... lost. "Thuh..."
Plankton whispers.

Karen nods, her
voice soft. "Take your
time," she says. "We're
not going anywhere."
Chip nods, his throat
tight. "I'm here," he
says, his voice barely
a murmur.

Plankton's hand
shakes, his grip
on the fidget toy
loosening. His eye
blinks rapidly, his mind
trying to come back
online. "Ba-back?"
he whispers, his voice
tiny.

The therapist, Dr. Marla,
sits back, her eyes
assessing. "It's normal,"
she repeats. "Your brain
needs a moment to
recalibrate." Plankton's
breathing slows, his
body uncurling from
its defensive ball. He
takes the fidget toy,
his hand trembling.

Karen's heart aches as
she watches her husband
struggle to find words.
Chip's eyes are wide
with concern, but he
doesn't interrupt, giving
his dad space. "Th-the...
hash?" Plankton says, his
voice barely a whisper.

The therapist nods.
"Good," she says. "Keep
going." Plankton's hand
shakes, the fidget toy
clutched tightly. "Doge."
Karen smiles gently. "Yes,
you're getting there," she
says. Chip watches, his
heart in his throat.

"Toy?" Plankton says,
his voice a little
stronger. Dr. Marla
smiles. "Yes, the toy
is helping," she says.
"Keep playing with it."
Plankton nods, his hand
moving slightly as he
flips the fidget toy in
his hand. "Yea," he whispers.

Chip watches his dad,
his own hands still. He's
seen Plankton in tough
situations before, but
never like this. It's like
his mind is a computer
that's been hit by a
virus, trying to reboot
with only basic
functions. "Dad," he
says, his voice filled with
longing. "Can you tell me
what yo-"

But Plankton's gaze
remains unfocused, his
mouth moving slightly.

"Chip," Karen says,
interrupting gently. "Give
him a minute, okay?"
Chip nods, his eyes
still on his father. He
doesn't want to leave, but
he understands. He sits
back, his heart racing as
he watches Plankton's
slow progress.

Plankton's hand
moves, the fidget toy
spinning in his grip.
"Good," he murmurs, his
voice a little stronger.
"Home." The word is a
relief, a sign that he's
coming back to them. Karen
smiles, her eyes filled
with love and concern.
"Would you like to sit up?"
she asks, her voice soft.
Plankton nods, his body
moving in slow motion
as he sits. The curtain is
still up, creating a
small, safe space for him.

Chip watches, scared,
but he's also in awe of his
dad's strength. Plankton,
his hero, who's faced so
much and is still here.
"D-dad," he says, his voice
shaking. "You okay?"
Plankton's eye flicks
to Chip, his mouth
opening slightly. "Yeahhh."
It's a simple word, but
it feels like a lifeline.
"Need?" he whispers,
his voice strained.

Karen nods, her hand
still on his back. "We're
here," she says, her eyes
never leaving him. "We're
always here for you."
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye focusing a little
more. "Th-thank," he
stammers. Chip feels his
heart swell with love.
He's still in there,
his mind just needs 
to recalibrate.

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 21

The room is quiet,
except for the soft
whir of the fidget toy.
Plankton's breathing
evened out, his eye
focusing on the spinning
discs. "More?" he asks,
his voice a whisper.
Karen nods, her heart
swelling with pride.
"You're doing so well,"
she says, her voice
gentle. "We're here for
you." Chip's eyes are
wet, but he nods in
agreement. He wants
to hug his dad, but
he knows Plankton needs
his space right now.

Plankton's hand shakes
as he holds the fidget
toy, his gaze fixed
on it. "Ma-more?" he
asks again, his voice
still a whisper. Dr.
Marla nods, reaching
for a weighted blanket.
"Let's try this," she
suggests, her tone calm.
Karen helps drape it
over him, the heavy
material grounding him.
"Ma-make it," he says,
his voice slightly
stronger. Chip's heart
leaps at the sound. "Make
what?" he asks, his voice
eager.

But Plankton can't
quite articulate. He
just shakes his head,
his eye squeezed shut.
"M-make," he repeats,
his frustration clear.
Karen nods, her hand
on his shoulder. "We
know you can," she says.
"Ma-make it st-sto-"
He stammers, his
body trembling with
the effort of speech.
"Ma-make it stop," he
whispers, his voice
breaking. His gaze
meets Chip's, desperation
in his eye.

Chip looks up at the
therapist, his eyes
pleading for guidance.
"What do we do?"
Dr. Marla nods, her
expression calm. "Just
keep talking to him," she
instructs. "Use simple
words, and let him
know you're here."

So Chip does, his voice
softer than ever. "Dad,
we're with you." 
Karen's eyes are wet, but
she smiles encouragingly.
"You're doing so good,"
she says, her voice
barely above a murmur.

Plankton's hand clutches
the blanket, his breath
coming in quick gasps.
"Ma-make," he says again,
his voice strained.
"Ma-make it sto-"

Karen nods, her voice
soothing. "You're
doing so well, sweetie,"
she says. "Keep going."
Chip watches, his eyes
filled with hope.
"Ma-make it qui-et,"
Plankton whispers, his
body still trembling.

The therapist nods,
understanding. "Let's
turn down the lights,"
she suggests, her voice
calm. Karen nods and
moves to the switch, the
room plunging into a
soft glow. "Ma-more?"
Plankton whispers.
"Ma-make it qui-et,"
he repeats, his hand
flapping slightly. Karen's
heart aches, but she
nods. "We're here," she
says, her voice steady.

Chip looks around, his
thoughts racing. "How-
how do we do that?"
he asks, his voice
shaking. Dr. Marla
smiles gently. "Just talk
to him," she says. "Keep
your words simple, and
use a sensory toy to help."

So Chip picks up
a small, squishy ball,
its surface covered
in bumps. "Dad," he
says, his voice soft.
"Look." Plankton's eye
sluggishly turns to the
toy. "Ball," Chip says,
his voice clear. Plankton's
gaze flicks to the
therapist, then back to
Chip, his mouth
moving slightly. "Bah,"
he tries, his voice
barely a whisper. It's a
start, a tentative step
forward in understanding.

The therapist nods.
"Good," she says. "Keep
trying." Plankton's hand
reaches out, his grip
weak. Chip places the
ball in his palm, and
his dad's eye light up
slightly. "Bowl," he says,
his voice a little
stronger. It's a simple
word, but it feels like a
breakthrough.

Chip nods, a smile
spreading across his
face. "Ball," he repeats,
his voice encouraging.
"Ball," Plankton says,
his tongue wrapping
around the word
slightly. "Ball." It's a
small victory, but it's
enough to make Chip's
heart soar. He picks up
another toy, a plush
octopus. "Dad, look,"
he says, his voice
trembling. "Octo."
Plankton's gaze
shifts, his antennae
twitching slightly. "Ah-
pple," he says, his voice
confused. "No," Chip says
gently, taking the octopus.
"This is octo. Octo." He
shakes it slightly, the
legs flailing. "See?"

Plankton's eye widens
slightly, his mouth
forming an "o." "Ah-
tto," he whispers. It's not
perfect, but it's a start.
Karen's hand squeezes
his shoulder. "Good
job, Plankton," she says,
her voice filled with
relief. The therapist
smiles, her eyes
observing them both. "Keep
going," she says. "This
is great progress."

Chip holds up the
octopus closer to
him. "But-but," 
Plankton murmurs.
Karen smiles. "You 
can do it." Plankton's
hands are still, his gaze
locked on the octopus.
"Octo," Chip says again.

Plankton's eye blinks
slowly, his mouth
moving. "Ah-tto," he 
tries again, his voice
slightly louder. Chip's
heart skips a beat. 
"No," he says gently.
"Octo." He waves the
toy in front of him.
"Octo." Plankton's antennae
twitch, his mouth
forming the word.
"Octo," he repeats, his
voice stronger. Chip
can't help the grin that
spreads across his face.

"Good," Dr. Marla says,
nodding. "Keep working
together." Karen's hand
squeezes Chip's shoulder,
pride in her eyes. Plankton
holds the octopus, his hand
still shaking. "Ma-make
it sp-spin?" he asks, his
voice hopeful. Chip nods,
his hand steady. He
spins one of the octopus's
arms. "Spin," he says.

Plankton's eye follows the
spinning arm, his gaze
focused. "Spin," he whispers,
his tongue working the
word. "Spin." His voice
grows stronger, the word
becoming more than just a
sound. "Spin," he says,
his hand tentatively reaching
for an arm. "Mo-
re," he whispers, his
hand reaching out. Karen
smiles encouragingly. "Good
job," she says. "Keep
talking to us."

Chip nods, his heart
racing. He holds up
another toy, a shiny
spinner. "Dad," he says,
his voice hopeful. "See
this?" Plankton's antennae
twitch. "Spin?" he asks,
his voice a question.
"Yes," Chip says, his
voice steady. "Spin." He
flips the spinner, watching
the colors blur.

Plankton's eye follows
the movement, his mouth
opening slightly. "Clis,"
he whispers, his voice
barely audible. Karen
smiles, her eyes shining.
"Keep going," she says.
"You're doing so well."

Chip nods, his hand
steadier. "Dad, watch,"
he says, his voice filled
with hope. He picks
up a small, plush star,
its material soft and
comforting. "Look," he
says, his voice clear.
"This is star." Plankton's
eye flicks to the toy,
his hand reaching out. "Sta,"
he tries, his tongue
sluggish. Chip nods, his
heart racing. "Yes," he
whispers. "Star."

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 22

Karen watches, her eyes
glistening. "Keep
going," she says, her
voice filled with
admiration. Plankton
fumbles with the star,
his hand shaking. "Sta,"
he whispers again, his
voice stronger. "Sta."
The therapist smiles.
"This is excellent," she
says. "Keep up the good
work." Chip's eyes are
on his dad, his mind
racing with ideas for
more words.

"D-dad," Chip says,
his voice gentle. "Look
at me." Plankton's
gaze shifts to Chip,
his eye unfocused.
"Look at me." Plankton's
eye narrows slightly,
his antennae twitching.
Karen's hand strokes
his shoulder. "Come
back to us," she says.
"Ma-make it... Ma-make
it... qui-et?" he whispers.

The therapist nods.
"Good job," she says,
smiling. "Keep focusing
on the toy." Chip
holds the star closer.
"This is... star," he says,
his voice calm. Plankton's
eye follows the toy,
his hand reaching out.
"Sta," he murmurs. "Yes,"
Karen says, her voice
soothing. "It's a star."
Plankton's hand
closes around the
star, his grip firm. "Sta,"
he repeats, his voice
growing stronger.

Chip feels his heart
swell with hope. He
picks up a small, plush
dolphin. "Dad," he says,
his voice clear. "Look."
Plankton's gaze shifts,
his hand still shaking.
"Dolf," he says, his voice
slurred. Chip nods. "Yes,
it's a dolphin. Can you say
dolphin?" Plankton tries, his
mouth moving slightly.
"Dolf," he whispers. Chip's
face lights up. "Yes,"
he says, his voice filled
with excitement. "Dolf."

The therapist smiles,
seeing the progress.
"Keep it up," she says.
"You're both doing
wonderfully." Plankton's
hand clutches the dolphin,
his gaze unfocused.
Karen's heart aches, but
she knows this is a step
forward. "You're doing
so good," she says.

Chip nods, his eyes
on his dad. "More?"
he asks. Plankton's eye
flicks to him, his mouth
opening slightly. "Ma-make?"
he whispers. Karen's
hand squeezes his shoulder.
"What else would
you like?" Plankton's hand
shakes, the dolphin
dropping to the floor.
"Ma-make it... K-Karen.
Neeeed Karen!"

Karen's eyes fill
with tears, but she
smiles, her voice gentle.
"I'm right here," she
says, moving closer.
"Yo--"

Plankton's body jerks
slightly, his gaze
shifting to her. "Ka,"
he whispers, his voice
a plea as tears stream
down his face. Karen's
heart breaks, but she
smiles. "I'm here," she says,
her voice a lifeline.
"Karen," he repeats,
his hand reaching out
but not recognizing her.

Karen takes his hand,
her eyes never leaving
his. "You're okay,"
she whispers, her voice
soothing. "I'm right
here." Plankton's eye
lock onto hers, his tears
falling harder. "Karen,"
he says again, his voice
a desperate whimper.

Chip watches, his heart
wrenched. He's never
seen his dad like this,
so vulnerable and lost.
He picks up the dolphin,
his hand trembling. "Dad,"
he says, his voice gentle.
"This is do-"

But Plankton's cry
interrupts him, his
body trembling. "Karen!"
he sobs, his hand reaching
for her. Karen takes
his hand, her eyes
filled with love. "You're
right here," she whispers.
"I'm right here with yo-"

But Plankton's cries
grow louder, his grip
on her hand tightening.
"Karen! Need Karen!" His
eye is wild, his body
shaking uncontrollably.
Karen's heart aches as
she tries to calm him,
her voice steady. "You
have me," she says. "I'm
right here." But he's lost
in his own world, his
fear overwhelming his
senses.

"Karen," he sobs, his
voice breaking. Chip's
heart is in his throat, his
hands clutching the
dolphin toy tightly. He's
never seen his dad so
desperate, so lost. The
therapist, Dr. Marla,
watches them, her eyes
knowledgeable. "It's
okay," she says, her
voice calm. "This is part
of the process." But Chip
can't help feeling
helpless, his mind racing
to find a way to reach
his dad.

Karen's eyes never
leave Plankton's as she
speaks to him gently. "You
have me," she repeats,
her voice a lullaby. "I'm
right here." Plankton's
grip on her hand is
crushing, his sobs
becoming more
desperate. "Karen! Ka-
ren!" he cries, his body
wracked with tremors.
Karen's eyes fill with
determination. "I know
you're scared," she whispers.
"But I'm here. You're sa-"

Her words are cut
off by another sob from
Plankton. Chip feels his
heart tear in two, watching
his father's agony. "Dad,"
he says, his voice shaking.
"We're here." But Plankton's
gaze remains unfocused,
his mind lost in a
whirlwind of overstimulation.

Karen's eyes are wet,
but she keeps talking,
keeping her voice steady.
"You're okay," she says,
her hand stroking his
back. "You're safe." Plankton's
body convulses, his cries
escalating. "Karen!" he
wails, his voice raw.
"Need Karen!"

The therapist nods
at Karen, her gaze
compassionate. "Keep
going," she whispers. "This
is a breakthrough."
Karen's voice is a beacon
in the storm. "You have
me," she repeats. "You
have us."

Plankton's cries
turn into sobs, his
body convulsing with the
force of his emotions.
Karen's hand remains
steady on his back, her
heart breaking for him.
"You're okay," she
soothes, her voice a gentle
wave of comfort. "We're
right he--"

But Plankton's panic
doesn't abate. "Karen!"
he cries out, his voice
shattered. "Need Karen!"
Chip feels his own tears
burn his cheeks as he
watches his father's pain.
"Dad," he whispers, his
voice trembling. "You're
not alone." But Plankton's
eye is wild, his mind a
tempest of fear and
overwhelming stimuli.

Karen leans in, her
face close to his. "Look
at me," she says, her
voice firm but gentle.
"You're safe with me."
Plankton's gaze shifts,
his sobs quivering his
body. "Safe? If with Karen
safe.."

Karen's hand moves to
his cheek, her thumb
wiping away a tear.
"Look at me," she says
again, her voice a soft
command. "You're okay."

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 23

Plankton's sobs echo
through the room, his
body shaking with the
force of his emotions.
"Karen," he whispers,
his voice hoarse.

Karen's eyes are wet,
but she holds his gaze,
her voice a lifeline.
"I'm here," she says, her
hand steady on his cheek.
"You're safe." Plankton's
breath hitches, his eye
flickering with recognition.
"Safe," he repeats, his
voice a mere breath.

The therapist nods
encouragingly, her eyes
on the two of them. "Keep
going," she murmurs. "You're
getting through to him."

Karen's eyes never
leave Plankton's. "You're
safe," she repeats, her
tone soothing. "You're with
me, and Chip." Plankton's
sobs slow, his body
still trembling. "Wi-with
me," he whispers, his
hand tightening on hers.

The therapist nods,
smiling slightly. "Good,"
she says. "Keep it simple."
Karen nods, her voice
steady. "You're okay,
Plankton," she says. "We're
right here." Plankton's
breathing hitches, his
body slowly calming, when
Krabs barges in.

Krabs hadn't seen his
rival Plankton much so
he thought perhaps
Plankton's up to some
thing big. "Alright, funny
business; where are ye-"

But then he sees the
scene before him as
Plankton once again slips
into a shut-down, his
body going limp in Karen's
arms. Chip's eyes widen
with fear, the room
spinning. "Dad!" he cries.
"It's okay," Dr. Marla says.

Krabs freezes, his eyes
taking in Plankton's
state. "What in Neptune's
name is goin' on here?"
his voice gruff, but
concerned as he never
knew of Plankton's
neurodisability.

Karen's gaze
meets his, her 
voice steady. "It's a
sensory overload,"
she explains. "When
his mother was to
give birth, somehow his
head got stuck. It was
nobody's fault, just
a tough delivery. But it
caused his brain
structure to develop
differently. When he
got stuck, the lack
of oxygen and blood
flow, along with
pressure, affected the
way his neurons
connect. And some
parts of his brain just
couldn't handle the
stress, dwindling and
pretty much depleted
the resources that
were allocated for his
senses and social skills."

Krabs' eyes
widen, his usual
grumble replaced with
a rare moment of
sympathy. "So that's
why he's always been...
Neptune." he says.

Karen nods, her
expression calm but
sorrowful. "It leads
to moments like what
you're seeing right now,"
Dr. Marla explains.

Krabs looks at Plankton,
his eyes filled with a
mixture of shock and
remorse. "But he
always seemed so...
I'll leave ye alone." He 
leaves with a heavy heart.

Chip wipes at his own
tears, feeling a weight
lifting. "Dad," he says,
his voice shaking.
"You're okay." Plankton's
breathing slows, his grip
on Karen's hand loosening
as he rubs his eye, finally
coming back to them.

Plankton looks around,
his gaze confused. "Huh?"
he murmurs. Karen nods,
smiling through her
tears. "You're okay," she
says again. "You had a
big moment, but you're
safe now." Plankton's eye
finds Chip, and his
expression relaxes slightly.
"Where," he says, his voice
still weak.

Karen's voice is soft.
"You're at home," she
explains. "Dr. Marla is
gonna get going, but
you gotta new box
of sensory items!" She
says, deliberately leaving
Mr. Krabs’s discovery out.
They all knew he won't 
take it lightly.

Dr. Marla leaves, 
and Chip smiles,
his eyes shining. 
"You're all better," 
he says, his voice 
filled with relief.

Meanwhile, Krabs
went to his own
home feeling quite
conflicted with new
found knowledge
of Plankton's autism.

He'd always seen
his rival as a mere
annoyance, a pebble in
his otherwise smooth
existence. But now,
he couldn't shake the
image of Plankton's
desperate sobs and
his own lack of
understanding.

Krabs sat in his
dimly lit bedroom,
thoughts racing as he
stared at the wall.
He'd never known
Plankton's struggles
went so deep, that
his brain was wired
differently. It made
sense now, the way
his rival would react
to things dramatically. 
The way he'd just
bluntly speak his mind.
He'd just thought Plankton
was weird, but now,
he knew better.

The next day, Krabby
Patty's sales were
booming, but Krabs'
mind was elsewhere.
He thought of what
Karen told him about
Plankton's birth and his
autism. It was a lot to
take in, but he couldn't
decide how to interact
whenever Plankton next
comes around. He knew
Plankton has no idea that
he found out.

As he counted his
money, his heart felt
heavier than the
gold coins. He'd always
seen Plankton as a
nuisance, a constant
thorn in his side. But
now, he saw a different
side to him. A side that
was struggling, a side
that was just trying to
navigate a world that
wasn't made for him.

Krabs sighs, his
thoughts deep. He 
knew he couldn't 
bring himself to
mock Plankton 
anymore, yet he
knew Plankton might
be suspicious if he
suddenly acts any
different than their
usual competitiveness.
He decided to keep
his newfound
understanding to
himself, for now, but
his interactions
could be more
considerate.

Moments later
Plankton, obviously
oblivious to the
shift in Krabs'
demeanor, attempts
to steal the Krabby
Patty secret formula.

Krabs, still deep in
thought, catches him
mid-sneak by the
cash register as the
cashier, Squidward,
read some magazine.

Plankton's antennae
perk up as he's caught.
"Mr. Krabs," he stammers,
his eye darting around.
"Just... just popping
in for a... uh...chat?" 
Plankton lied, his usual
bravado apparent.

Mr. Krabs looks at
his rival, his expression
unreadable. "Oh, I see,"
he says, his voice calm.
Plankton didn't notice
the subtlety of Krabs’s
tone being a bit nicer.

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 25

Once home, Plankton
collapses onto his
bed, unsure of how
to process the day's
events. His mind
spins with the
professor's cruel words
and Krabs' unexpected
defense. He'd never
felt so... seen. So
understood, even by
his sworn enemy.
So conflicted?
Tears stream down
his face as he clutches
his favorite pillow.

Karen finds him
later, her eyes
softening at his
distress. "What's
wrong?" she asks, 
sitting on the edge 
of the bed.

Plankton takes a
deep, shaky breath.
"Krabs," he says, his
voice barely a whisper.
"He... he was nice to
me.." Karen nods, her
hand reaching out to
his. "Okay," she says.
"It'll be fine." Plankton's
eye widens slightly. 
"Wait, what?" Plankton
asks her. "What do you
mean? It's not like he
knows I'm autis–"

But Karen cuts him
off, her voice firm. "I
told him," she says. "I
thought it was time
he knew." Plankton's
body goes still, his
heart racing. "What?"
he repeats, his mind
racing. Karen nods.
"During Dr. Marla's visit
he came in and saw
you having a seizure
so I explained how
your birth was tough
and it affected yo-"

Plankton pulls away, his
body tense. "You told
Krabs?" he says, his voice
shaking. "Why would
you do that?" Karen's
expression is calm, but
her eyes are filled with
sorrow. "Because," she
says, "he's seen it and
asked me wh-"

But Plankton can't hear
her anymore, his mind
reeling. He sat up in his
bed. "Get out," he whispers. 
"I-I can't... I can't have you
in here right now."
Karen's eyes widened,
her hand hovering in
midair. "Wh-"

But Plankton's voice is
firm. "I need to be alone."
Karen nods, her eyes
brimming with tears.
"Okay," she says softly.
"But if you need me-"
Plankton turns away,
his antennae drooping. 
"I just... need space." Karen
nods, her heart aching. "I
don't want you upset with
me, Plank-"

He cuts her off, his
voice shaky. "It's not
you," he says. "It's just...
a lot. I'm disappointed
that you told him, but I
understand why. I just
need to be by myself."
Karen's throat tightens,
but she nods. "Okay," she
whispers, standing with
her palms open. "Can I---"

But Plankton's antennae
wave frantically. "No, please.
Just go." His voice is
desperate, his eye pleading.
Karen's heart breaks into
a million pieces, but she
nods, stepping back. "If
you need anything," she
says, "anything at all---"

But Plankton is
not in the mood. 
"I SAID to leave
me ALONE!"

Karen's eyes widen
at his outburst, his
voice sharp, a stark
contrast to the softness
that usually laces his
words when with her.
But she knew that he's
not angry at her, but
his own situation. She
nods, her throat thick
with unshed tears. "Ok,"
she says, her voice
small. "I'll be out here
if you need me." She closes
the bedroom door.

Plankton's sobs fill
the room, his body
shaking with the
force of his emotion.
He's never felt so
alone, so exposed. He
pulls his knees to his
chest, his pillow damp
with his tears. And it
makes Karen's heart ache
even more, knowing she's
the one who told Krabs.

Karen sits outside
the door, hand hovering
over the wood,
wanting to go in,
wanting to comfort him,
but she knows he needs
space. She's seen this
before, the way the world
can overwhelm him,
crushing him under its
weight until all he
can do is withdraw into
his own little bubble.

Inside, Plankton talks
to himself, his words
tumbling out in a rush,
his voice a mix of anger
and sadness. "Why did
you tell him?" he whimpers,
his antennae quivering.
"Why did you tell him?"

He stims, his hands
flapping in front of
his face, his eye squeezed
shut. "It's not your
fault," he murmurs. "It's not
your fault." The words
are a mantra, a desperate
attempt to convince
his racing mind. He
knows Karen meant well,
but the knowledge feels
like a betrayal. "It's not your
fault," he repeats, voice
growing soft, eye squeezed shut.
"I can't help it." His voice
cracks. "It's not my fault," 
he repeats, antennae twitching. "I
just see things differently."
He rocks back and forth. 
"But Krabs... Krabs
was nice," he whispers, his
voice filled with wonder. "Why?"
he asks his reflection in
the mirror. "Why
now?" His eye is
wet, his voice shaky. "Why
now?" He whimpers it again,
his stims increasing.

Outside, Karen
can't help but listen,
her heart in her throat.
Her hand is poised to
enter, but she knows
better. Plankton needs
this moment alone, to
process the tumultuous
storm of emotions. She
closes her eyes, her
hand dropping to her
side.

Inside, Plankton's
stims grow more intense,
his breaths shallow. "It's
not your fault," he whispers.
"Krabs is just... confused."
He flaps his hands, his body
rocking faster. "Why did
you tell him?" His voice
is a mix of anger and
desperation. "Why did
you have to tell him?" His
stims are a comfort, a
way to self-regulate, to
make sense of the chaos
that's overwhelmed him.

He opens his eye,
his gaze unfocused as he
stares at the wall. "But
he was nice," he murmurs.
"He said I'm not a mistake."
He pauses, his hand
stilling. "Maybe he sees me
now, maybe it's just pity,"
he says, his voice harsh.
He resumes his stims, his
thoughts racing.

His antennae twitch,
his mind trying to
process the kindness
from his enemy. "But
why?" he whispers. "Why
now?" His body rocks
back and forth, his hand
flapping in rhythm. "It's not
your fault," he repeats.
"It's not your fault."

He grabs a favorite
sensory toy, a soft, squishy
ball, and squeezes it
tightly as he rocks. The
pressure is comforting,
helping him to think. "He
was always mean," he
mumbles, his voice a
whisper in the quiet
room. "But today... today
he saw me," he says
loudly, his voice cracking.
"He saw me."

He throws the ball
against the wall, watching
as it bounces back.
"But why?" he asks
his reflection again. "Why
now?" The ball hits
the floor with a soft
thud, and he sighs, his
hands stilling. "It's not
your fault," he whispers.
"But he knows now." His
eye blinks rapidly, trying
to focus on the wall. "He
knows and he still...
he still talked to me.
Maybe he's just confused,"
he says to himself. "Or
maybe he just felt sorry
for me." His voice is
flat, his movements
mechanical. "But why
now?" he asks the wall.

He leans back, his hand
still clutching the pillow.
"But he knows," he whispers.
"He knows now." His antennae
twitch, his mind racing.
"What does it mean?
What does it mean?" he
repeats, his voice a little
louder. "What does it mean
for me?" More tears roll down his
face. "But he saw me at my
weakest." His body
shakes with sobs. "He saw
me at my lowest," he whimpers.
"And he didn't laugh. He
was... nice." His voice
cracks on the last word,
his fist tightening around
his pillow. "Why?" he cries out.
"Why now?"

The room is silent
except for his ragged
breaths and the quiet
thump of his pillow
against the bed frame.
"It's not your fault," he
reminds himself, his
voice a mere whisper.
"It's not your fault," he repeats,
his body stilling slightly.
He takes a deep, shuddering
breath, his antennae drooping.

"But why now?" he asks
his reflection, his voice
cracking. "Why did it take
this for him to see me?"
He squeezes his eye shut,
trying to keep the tears
at bay. "Why now?"
his voice is barely audible.
He's lost in his own
thoughts. "It's not your fault!
But what if it is? No," he
says. "I'm not."

new dare to be different overloadcore marla

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 26

The room is silent
except for the sound of
his quiet sobs, his body
shaking with the force
of his emotion. The pillow
is damp from his tears.
He clutches it tightly to his
chest. His antennae
hang limply, no longer
twitching with his usual
energy. "It's not your fault,"
he whispers again, his voice
shaking. "It's not your
fault. Why did it take this
for him to see me?" He
wipes his eye with the
back of his hand, sniffling.
"But he did see me," he says,
his voice a little stronger.
"He saw me and didn't
laugh."

He lies down, his body
exhausted from the day's
emotional rollercoaster. The
weight of his thoughts
presses down on him like
a heavy blanket, making
his eyelid feel heavy.
He takes deep breaths, his
body slowly calming down.
"It's not your fault," he whispers,
his voice barely audible.
"You're not."

The darkness of the
room envelops him, the
silence a stark contrast
to the cacophony of his
thoughts. His hand reaches
for a favorite plushie,
the small, squishy octopus
that Chip had picked out
for him. He squeezes it tightly,
his body curling around it.
The softness and familiarity
of it grounds him, bringing
a small measure of comfort.
"It's not your fault,"
he murmurs, his voice
like a lullaby to himself.

Plankton's sobs
have slowed, his breaths
now hitching in his chest.
His antennae lie flat, his
body still. The words
repeat in his head, a
comforting mantra. "It's not
your fault." He whispers it
again and again, his voice
soft and soothing.

He closes his eye,
his grip on the plushie
loosening slightly. His
thoughts are a jumble,
but he tries to sort
them out, one by one.
Krabs had seen his
weakness, his fear, and
instead of mocking him,
he'd been... kind.

Plankton's mind reels
with the implications.
Was it pity?
Or could it be...
respect? He doesn't
know. All he knows
is that it feels...
different.

The darkness wraps
around him like a cocoon,
his plushie a silent
witness to his pain.
His thoughts swirl.
What does it mean?
Does Krabs really see
him now? Or is this
just a fluke?

Yet his breathing 
evens out, his body 
relaxing into the 
embrace of the bed.
as sleep claims him.

The room is
still, his plushie
a silent sentinel
keeping watch over
his slumber. His
stims cease, his
hands uncurling from
their tight fists. His
eyelid flutters closed,
his antennae drooping.

Plankton's breathing
deepens, his body
surrendering to sleep.

Karen, outside the door,
leans closer, finally heard 
the gentle snores that 
signal he's asleep. She
wipes a tear from her 
eye and slowly opens the 
door, peeking in to check 
on her husband.

Plankton's body is
still, his antennae no 
longer quivering with
stress. He's curled into 
a tiny ball, his plushie 
pressed against his 
chest.

Karen watches from the
doorway, her heart
heavy with the weight
of emotions. She 
wants to rush in, to 
pull him into a tight
embrace, to whisper that
everything will be okay.
But she knows better.
He needs this space, this
silence, to process today.

The next morning, Karen
awakes to find Plankton
sitting by her on her bed,
holding hands.

"I'm sorry," he says.
"For what?" she asks.
"For pushing you away."
Karen shakes her head.
"You didn't push me away,"
she says, squeezing his hand.
"You needed space."
Her voice is gentle.
"It's okay to be upset."
Her eyes are filled with
understanding. "It's okay
to need time."

He looks at her, his
eye searching. "But I
was mean," he whispers.
"No, you're overwhelmed."
Her smile is soft. "And
that's okay. I know it's a
lot to take in." Plankton
nods slowly.

They sit in silence,
their hands entwined. Karen's
thumb strokes the back of
his hand, a soothing gesture
that Plankton has come to
rely on. "I'm here," she says.
"I'll always be here." He
swallows hard, his antennae
twitching. "Thank y-you,"
he whispers.

Suddenly, there's a
knock on the front
door. Chip's camp
friend, JoJo, was
here to visit Chip.
"Hi, JoJo!" he says,
opening the door wide.
"How are you?" JoJo
smiles shyly. "I'm okay,"
they said, their eyes
darting around. "Do your
parents know about me?"

Chip shook his head.
"I haven't really gotten
around to talking much
about camp because
uh, family situation.
Everything's fine though!"

Karen heard the door
and talking. "Who's
Chip talking to?" "I
don't know Plankton,
but it doesn't sound
like Krabs. I'll go check!"

She left the bedroom,
her heart racing. Who
did Chip let in?

"Oh, my mom's coming!"
Chip says to JoJo. "Mom,
meet JoJo; I met them at
my camp!" Karen enters
the living room. "Well, it's
nice to me—" Karen falters
at the sight of JoJo.

JoJo has two heads,
each looking at her
with a shy smile. She
quickly recovers, her
face a mask of polite
interest. "Hello," she says,
extending her hand. "It's
um, nice to meet you, JoJo?"
she says awkwardly, not sure
how to greet someone
with two heads. She never
even knew such a condition
existed! Her eyes darted
between Chip and JoJo.

Chip's grin is wide,
his eyes shining with
excitement. "Yeah, JoJo's
my new friend from camp!"
he says. Karen's heart
swells with pride at her
son's openness and
kindness. JoJo's heads nod
in unison, their eyes sparkling.
"Hi, Mrs. Plankton," one head says,
while the other nods, adding, "It's
great to meet you!" Karen's hand
shakes JoJo's, her mind racing
with questions. How does it feel
to be two in one? How do they
see the world? How do they...
WHAT?

Her thoughts stumble
over themselves, and she
quickly recovers with a
warm smile. "Welcome
to our home," she says,
hoping to cover her initial
shock. But JoJo notices.

"It's okay," one of JoJo's
heads says with a gentle
smile. "Lots of people
are surprised at first."
The other head nods. "I
get it," they add. "It's just
how we are. We identify
as one person." Karen's
mouth opens and closes,
trying to find the right
words. "Okay! Um... I, I'm
sorry if I was rude," she
stammers. "I just wasn't
expecting... I mean, it's just
that..."

"You're not the first,"
the second head says with
a laugh. "And you won't be
the last." JoJo's eyes, all
of them, are kind. "It's
fine, really. And I know
what you're wondering, but
our parents are both single-
headed," they explain. Karen
can't help but laugh a
little, her nerves easing.
"Chip's dad, just to warn
you, can be blunt. He's
curious and loves science
so I'm sure he'll most likely
ask more questions," Karen
tells JoJo.

JoJo nods, both heads
thinking the same thing.
"It's okay," they say. "We're
used to it." Karen looks
at her son, who's
beaming, his face lit up
by the simple joy of
having a friend over. "So,
what do you want to do?"
Chip asks, his voice
excited. JoJo's heads look
at each other, then back
at Chip. "How about a
game?" they suggest.

new dare to be different headcore pt

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 27

Plankton ventured out
of the bedroom to find
Karen and Chip, but also
two guests? He heard
the knock on the door
and came to see, not
yet noticing the heads
shared the same body.

"Hi, Dad!" Chip called
out. "This is JoJo, my
new camp friend!"

Plankton emerged
from the hallway. "I
didn't know we're
having company.."

He saw Chip and...
another child? But 
he was coming from
the side, not seeing
that they're one kid.

Plankton approached, his
eye squinting. "Hi," he
managed, his voice a
little unsure. "And, who's
the other one?" He asks,
pointing to the other.
"They're both JoJo,"
Chip clarifies, his voice
filled with excitement.

"Hello!" JoJo says
as they turn to face
Plankton, now in
front of him. He then
sees the one body,
sharing both heads.

Plankton's antennae
twitch in surprise,
his eye wide. "You're
joined," he states, his voice
soft and curious. JoJo nods,
both heads tilting slightly.
"Bicephalous," they explain.
"It's a rare condition. We
aren't twins, yet we share
a body. It's complicated
to explain!" One head
giggles while the other
says, "I'm sure you being 
a one header won't know
what it's like to have both
teachers and students see
you as the class weirdo
despite getting good grades.."

Plankton's eye narrows.
"What do you mean?" "I
mean, Chip says you're
so good at science. We
bet the other one headers
loved you for it!" JoJo says.
"We're smart, but some
weren't so accepting and
had to sometimes get taken
out of class just because
of how we're born! But you're
lucky to be admired for your
intelligence without worrying
about bullies.."

Plankton's gaze falters.
Being autistic, he's gone
through the same thing!
Despite being the best
at science, he's been 
singled out repeatedly.

He looks at JoJo, his
heart aching. He knows
exactly what it's like to
be seen as different, to
have people whisper about
you, to be misunderstood.
He takes a deep breath,
his antennae drooping.
"Actually," he says, "I've a
neurodisability, making some
stuff easier but others hard."

JoJo's heads lean in,
their curiosity piqued.
"Oh, cool!" one says. "What
kin-"

But Karen cuts
them off. "He's
a bit sensitive
about it, with his
own experiences,"
she explains gently.
JoJo nods. "We all
have things," they say.

Plankton looks at
them, his antennae
twitching in thought.
"Would you like to
play?" Chip asks,
his voice hopeful. JoJo
nods, their heads bobbing.
"Sure, I'd love to,"
they say.

JoJo follows Chip to
his bedroom, leaving
Karen and Plankton
face to face.

Karen looks at him,
concern etched into
every line of her
face. "Are you okay?"
she asks, her voice
gentle. Plankton nods,
his antennae still. "I'm
fine," he says, his voice
quiet. "It's just..." He
pauses, searching for
the right words. "It's just
that JoJo, they're...
different, more than me."

He sighs, looking at
his son's retreating
back. "I know how
it feels to be... less
than, to be seen as a
freak," he whispers. Karen
squeezes his hand. "You're
not a freak, Plankton."
Her voice is firm, her gaze
steady. "You're you.
And you're incredible."

He looks at her, his
eye glistening. "But what if
Chip... what if he
doesn't understand?"
Her grip tightens. "Chip
understands more than you
think. And JoJo, they're
different too, in their
own way. They'll learn
from each other."

Their eyes lock, and
Plankton sees the love
and determination in
Karen's gaze. He nods.
"Okay," he says, his voice
shaky. "Okay."

They walk into
Chip's room, where
the two children are
already engrossed in
a board game, their
heads bent over the
colorful pieces. Plankton
watches them, his antennae
twitching.

The sight of Chip
laughing with JoJo,
his excitement unbridled,
makes him feel a
swell of pride. His
heart aches for the
times he couldn't connect
with others, but here,
his son is, sharing
his world with someone
who's different too.

He watches as Chip
explains the rules of
his favorite game,
his voice earnest and
his eyes shining. JoJo's
heads nod in
understanding, their
smiles matching Chip's.

"Karen," Plankton says
to his wife, "I'm gonna
go to the Krusty Krab
to see what happens."
Karen looks at him,
surprise in her eyes.
"Again? Even aft-"

"Yeah," he cuts her
off. "I need to
understand."

Karen nods. She
knows. "Be safe," 
she whispers,
kissing his cheek.

Plankton nods,
his antennae twitching
slightly. "I will,"
he promises, his voice
determined. He heads
out the door, the
fresh ocean air
whipping around him.
The Krabby Patty
factory looms in the
distance, its lights
always on. He's been here
before, but today is
different. He's going
alone, not as a thief,
but as himself.

He opens the door,
his heart racing.
Krabs looks up, his
eyes widening. "What
do you want?" he said.

Plankton's antennae twitch.
"To talk," he says,
his voice steady. Krabs
frowns, but nods, gesturing
to the counter. Plankton
slides onto the stool, his
body tense.

"What about?" Krabs
asks, although he's
figured out exactly
why Plankton came.

Plankton takes a deep
breath. "I wanted to...
talk about what happe—"

Krabs interrupts, his
claws tapping on the
countertop. "You mean the
other day?" His eyes
narrow slightly. "Why? I
kicked out that ableist!"

Plankton nods. "I know.
Thank you for that." His
voice is sincere. "But I
wanted to talk about..."
He pauses, gathering his
thoughts. "About me,"
he finally says. "What your
knowledge of my autism
means for us.."

Krabs' claws still, his
expression unreadable.
"Look, Plankton," he says,
his voice gruff. "I dunno
much about all that brain-
stuff. But if it's important
to you, I'll try." This is
his chance to bridge
the gap, to explain
his world to someone
who's never truly
understood.

Plankton's antennae quiver.
"It's just," he starts, his
voice shaky. "When you
see me, do you see me?"
He looks into Krabs' eyes,
his own filled with hope
and fear. "Or do you now
see autism?"

Krabs' face softens, his
claws still. He considers
the question. "I see you,"
he says, his voice firm. "And
yes, I see the autism. But
it's not all of you. Which is
why I'll still keep me eyes
peeled for any shenanigans!"
A small smile plays
on his lips, hinting at his
understanding.

Plankton's antennae
quiver. "But it's a part of me,"
he says. "A big part."
Krabs nods. "Aye, it is,"
he says. "And it's why I'm
tryin' to be more...
understandin'." He pauses,
his eyes searching Plankton's.
"I don't always get it, but
I'll try. But still, hands off me
secret recipes as always, yeah?"

Plankton can't help but
laugh a little, his antennae
lifting slightly. "Always,"
he promises. "Still, can't
say I won't try!" Krabs'
smile widens. "Aye, get
on outta here before you do!"
He waves Plankton off, both
their hearts lighter.

The conversation lingers
in Plankton's mind as he
walks back home. The
Krusty Krab no longer feels
like enemy territory. It's
still competitive, but now
it's tinged with a new
dynamic. One of... camaraderie?
Or at least mutual
understanding.

JoJo is just leaving as
Plankton returns back.
"It was great meeting
you, Mr. Plankton!" JoJo
says, their heads
nodding in unison.
Plankton's always felt
so isolated in his
differences, and now he
sees that Chip is forming
bonds with someone who's
even more unique. "You too."
Plankton replies.

new dare to be different headcore bicephalous

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 23
Plankton sits stiffly
on the couch, antennae
twitching as he tries to
make sense of the new
environment. Karen sits
by him with Chip as
Hanna herself sits in
front of the couch by them.

"So," Hanna says, her 
voice high-pitched.
"What should we do first?"

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his eye darting
to Karen again. She
squeezes his hand gently.
"Why don't we take a look
at the guest room?" Karen
suggests, her voice calm.
"Where we'll sleep and
put all our stuff.."

Hanna nods eagerly. "Follow
me!" She leads them down
a hallway, the floorboards
creaking underfoot. Plankton's
heart races. New places meant
new sounds, new smells,
new everything. He feels
his body tense, his stims
wanting to take over. But he
holds back.

The guest room is a riot
of color, the walls adorned
with various knick-knacks
that Hanna has collected
over the years. Plankton's
eye widens at the visual
stimulation, and his antennae
twitch rapidly. He knows he
needs to find a way to cope.

"Well, that's is your 
shared room," Hanna 
says cheerfully. "I
hope you like it!"
Plankton nods, his
eye taking in the
whirlwind of color and
patterns. It's a lot to
process. "It's...vibrant,"
he says, his voice tight.

Hanna cackles at Plankton's
comment, her laughter too
loud. "Oh, I just LOVE
color!" she says, not
noticing his discomfort.

Plankton's antennae quiver,
his hand clenching into a
fist. He takes a deep
breath, willing his stims
away. He doesn't want
to ruin the moment, doesn't
want Hanna to notice. But
his senses are on overload,
his mind racing.

"Thank you," Karen says
with a forced smile, stepping
forward to set down their
bags. She can feel the tension
radiating from her husband.

Hanna sits, her smile not
dimming. "Oh, I just know
we're going to have so
much fun together," she
gushes. "AND I've got a
whole drawer full of board
games for us to play!"
Plankton nods, his smile
slightly strained, wondering
how much longer he can
keep up the façade.

Hanna's chatter fills the
room. "I've got
special movies for us
tonight! And I've got
everything from classics to
the LATEST SCI-FI!"

Plankton nods politely,
his antennae quivering.
He's trying to keep up with
the rapid-fire conversation.
"Uh, sure." He responds.
Hanna's eyes light up at his
interest in science fiction.
"Oh, I KNOW you're going to
love them," she says. His antennae
twitch with the effort to keep
up with the conversation,
his eye glazed over with
overstimulation. But Hanna
doesn't notice. She pinches
his shoulder, her laughter
bubbly. "You're just SO
sweet!"

Plankton flinches at
the contact, his body
wanting to retreat. He
swallows hard, trying to
find the words to express
his discomfort without
offending Hanna. But she's
already chatting on, her
energy unstoppable.

Her hand lands on his
knee, giving it a
squeeze. "Oh, I'm just
so thrilled to have
you here," she says.

But Plankton's mind is
elsewhere, his vision
starting to waver as
his body fights the
onset of an absence
seizure. The room
spins around him, and
his heart races. He
knows the signs all too
well, the sudden
disconnection from the
world as his brain goes
into overdrive.

Karen's eyes dart to
Plankton's face, reading
the signs. She knows
what's happening.

"Why don't we give
them a few minutes to
settle in?" Karen suggests,
interrupting Hanna's
enthusiastic chatter. "They've
got to be tired from the trip."

Hanna nods, her smile
slightly puzzled but
understanding. "Oh, of
course!" she says,
backing out of the room.

The door closes with a
click, leaving the three
of them. Plankton's antennae
twitch faster, his eye
unfocused. He feels the
world slipping away.

"Dad?" Chip whispers,
his hand tentatively reaching
out. Plankton's breathing
quickens, his heart
pounding in his chest.

Karen's voice is calm,
a beacon in the storm.
"Plankton, remember your
stims," she says gently.
"Find something to help
you ground."

Plankton's gaze flickers,
his antennae moving erratically.
He searches for his
sensory bag, his eye
landing on it by the
foot of the bed.

Karen notices, her hand
quickly grabbing the bag.
"Here," she says, her voice
calm and steady. "Use
your noise-canceling 
blindfold."

Plankton takes it, his
hands shaking as he
tries to put it over his eye.
The darkness is immediate,
his other senses
intensifying. He can feel
the fabric against his skin,
his heartbeat in his chest.
He breathes in deeply, his
chest rising and falling as
he fights against the seizure.

Chip watches, his heart
racing. He's seen this
before, but it never gets
easy. He wants to help, but
his mom's words echo in his
mind. 'Let him be'. So, he sits.

Karen's hand finds its way
to Plankton's, her grip
firm and reassuring. "You're okay,
sweetie," she says softly.
"We're here for you."

Plankton nods, his
breaths shallow, his antennae
twitching. The pressure
of Hanna's touch and the
sensory overload of the
new environment had been too
much. He'd felt the seizure
coming, the world closing
in on him. Yet Karen's
voice, her touch, it helps.

He closes his eye,
his hand fumbling for the
stim toy from the bag.
It's a small, velvet-covered
sphere, and he clutches it
tightly. The texture is
soothing, grounding.

The room is quiet, save
for their soft breaths and
the occasional creak of the
house. Chip's heart thuds
against his chest as he
watches his dad, willing him
to be okay. Plankton's hand
squeezes the velvet sphere,
his other hand reaching out
to find Karen's.

Karen's eyes never leave
his face. She's seen this
so many times before, the
battle he wages internally.
Her heart breaks a little
each time, but her
expression remains calm.

Chip watches, his own heart
racing. He's seen this
before too, the way his
dad's body fights against
his mind. He's learned that
silence is often the best
medicine in these moments.

Karen continues to
speak in low, even tones.
"It's okay, Plankton," she
whispers. "You're safe."
Her hand never leaves
his, the connection
unbroken. Chip 
wants to copy her,
his hand going onto 
his dad's knee..

But Plankton's body
only rejects Chip's 
touch, unable to handle
any more stimulation.

Karen's voice remains
steady, her grip on
his hand tight. "Breathe,
sweetie," she whispers.
"In, and ou-"

Her words are cut off by
the sudden silence. Plankton's
body goes still, his antennae
ceasing their erratic movement.
Karen notices Chip's hand on
Plankton's knee.

"Chip, buddy," she says gently.
"Let's give him some space."
Chip nods, his eyes wide
with concern. He
moves his hand away.

Chip sits, his eyes glued to
his dad. "D-dad?" he
whispers, his voice shaky.
Plankton's hand moves
to the blindfold, looking
around the room as if
seeing it for the first time.

"It's okay," Karen repeats.
"It's just a seizure, Chip.
They're not uncommon."

"Need," Plankton says,
his voice faint, like it's
coming from far away.
"I need... I need... I don't
know what I need." Karen
knew that Plankton's still
not with them yet when he
talks like this.

Karen nods, her voice still
soft. "You're okay, Plankton.
You're just having a seizure."
Chip nods, trying to
swallow his fear. He's
learned that talking calmly
helps bring him back.
"It's okay," Chip echoes
his mom. "We're right here."

Plankton's eye darts around
the room, his antennae still.
"Need...Plankton," he murmurs.
The gibberish isn't uncommon
during these episodes,
his mind trying to find
comfort in familiar concepts.
Plankton's eye, still
unfocused and glazed,
continues to dart around
the room. "Yes?"
he murmurs again, his voice
barely above a whisper.

"You're okay," Karen
says firmly, her voice
a gentle anchor in the
storm of sensory chaos.
"We're all here for you."
Chip nods in agreement,
his voice shaky but
determined. "Just breathe,
Da-"

But Plankton's grip on
his sanity is slipping.
His words come out
in a jumble, nonsensical.
"Wash... blue...cuckoo?"
his voice is a distant echo,
his mind searching for
comfort in familiar things.
Karen's heart aches, her
thumb rubbing his hand.
"It's okay, Plankton,"
she repeats. "You're
safe." Chip watches, his
eyes brimming with tears.
He doesn't understand what's
happening, but he knows
his dad needs them.

new to see or not to see chip plankton hanna

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 3

Chip looked up, his eyes
reflecting the confusion
he felt. "What happened,
Mom?" he asked, his voice
smaller than usual.

Karen took a deep breath,
trying to keep her anger
in check. "Your dad is upset,"
she began, her voice tight.
"You used a word that hurt
his feelings."

Chip's eyes widened in
shock. "What wor—"

"Don't lie to me," Karen
snapped, her voice
unusually harsh. "I know
what you said. That word
is not okay."

Chip looked at her,
his face a picture of
innocence and confusion.
"But it's just what
you said," he protested.
"What?" Karen's voice
was a mix of anger and
despair. "I only talked
about your dad's
autism, Chip. I never
called him that."

Chip had only been
trying to repeat what
he thought she had
told him. "But I didn't
know it was bad," he
whispered, his eyes
welling up. "I just didn't
know what to call it."

Karen sat by him. "Do you
understand why Dad was
upset?"

Chip nodded, his eyes
brimming with tears. "But I
didn't know it was a
bad word," he said, his
voice cracking. "What's it
mean?"

Karen took a deep breath,
trying to keep her emotions
from overwhelming her. "It's
a very hurtful word," she
explained gently. "It's used
to hurt of people who are
different, like those who have
neurological conditions like
your dad's. It's not right,
and it's not even accurate."
Chip felt his heart sink.

"But Mom," Chip protested,
"I didn't mean it like th-"

Karen's voice was firm
but not without gentleness.
"It doesn't matter how
you meant it, Chip. That word
is not acceptable. It's
hurtful and it makes people
feel less than who they are.
Your dad is not 'that'. He's
just your dad, and he loves
you more than anything."

Chip looked down,
his screen blurring with
tears. He hadn't meant
to cause pain, but the
realization of what he'd
done made his stomach
twist with guilt. "I'm sorry,"
he mumbled, his voice
barely audible.

Karen sighed, her
frustration dissipating into
sadness. She knew her son
wasn't cruel—just confused.
"I know you didn't mean it,
Chip," she said, her voice
softening. "But it's important
that you know that words
have power. They can build
people up or tear them down."

Chip nodded, feeling
the weight of his
mistake. He had never
seen his mother so upset,
and he hated that he was
the cause.

"Let's go talk to Dad," Karen
said, her voice softening.
"We need to tell him that
you didn't mean it, and that
you understand now."

They walked back to
the bedroom, Karen's hand
in his. Plankton sat on
the bed, his back to them.

"Daddy?" Chip's voice
was tentative. Plankton's
body tensed, his antennae
twitching with the effort
not to turn around.

"It's okay, Plankton,"
Karen said softly, stepping
forward. "Chip didn't
know that word was
hurtful. He's sor-"

Plankton's antennae shot
up, his eye burning with
a mix of sadness and pain.
"How could you, Karen?"
he spat out, his voice
shaking. "You, of all people.
How could you let him
think that about me?"
Karen stepped closer,
placing a gentle hand on
his shoulder. "I didn't,
Plankton. Chip just heard
me mention your autism
and he didn't underst--"

But Plankton jerked away,
his antennae quivering with
frustration. "That's not
what he said!"

Karen's screen filled with
puzzlement. "What did
he say, then?"

"That you said I was..."
Plankton paused, his antennae
drooping. "That I was...
that."

Karen's eyes searched
his face, her heart breaking.
"Plankton, no. I swear, I
would never use that word
for you. You're not 'that'.
You're just you—my love,
my partner, Chip's dad. Autism
is just a part of yo-"

But Plankton was
too caught up in his own
turmoil to hear her. "It's
always been there," he
whispered, his antennae
drooping. "Everyone else
can see it. Why couldn't
I?"

Chip watched, feeling
his own heart break at the
sight of his dad's pain. He
wanted to fix it, to make
everything right again.
"Daddy," he said, his voice
shaking with emotion. "I
don't think you're that way.
You're just... Daddy."

Plankton's antennae
perked up slightly at the
sound of his son's voice. He
turned to face them, his eye
swollen with unshed tears.
"I'm sorry," Chip continued,
his voice trembling. "I didn't
know that word was bad.
I just wanted to tell you
how much I love y—"

"Love?" Plankton choked out,
his antennae twitching. "How
can you love someone who's...
who's like me? After all, you
just called me tha-"

"Daddy, I didn't know it
was bad," Chip said, his
voice filled with sincerity. 
"But I do now. And it doesn't
change anything. You're still
my dad. You're still the best
person I kno—"

But Plankton can't bear
to hear any more. "Get 
out!" he roared.

Karen and Chip stared at 
his outburst, shocked by
his sudden anger. They
could see the pain in
his eye, the deep-seated
fear of being misunderstood.

new dare to be different karencore karen

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 3
Plankton notices the shift in Chip's
expression and his own face falls.
He's been so scared of this moment,
of being seen as less than. He's
always tried to keep his stims
under wraps, to appear as 'normal'
as possible. But now it's all out
in the open, and he can't hide anymore.

Karen reaches for Plankton's hand,
squeezing it gently. "It's okay, love.
You don't have to be afraid. Chip's
smart, he'll understand." She looks
back at Chip, her eyes pleading.
"Remember what we talked about,
Chip. Your dad's stimming is his way
of coping with the world, and it's
something that makes him feel
safe and comfortable. Yet we need
to understand that when he's doing
it, it's his personal time. It's just not
for us to intrude on. Because for
him, it's like a secret conversation he's
having with himself."

Chip nods slowly, his eyes
flicking from his dad's face to
his mom's, trying to digest the
new reality that's being laid out
before him. Plankton takes a
deep, shuddering breath, his
rocking coming to a stop.

Karen stands up, walking over to
Plankton, and kisses him on the
cheek. "Why don't you go wash up,
sweetie?" she suggests gently. "I'll
talk to Chip." Plankton nods, his
expression a mix of relief and fear.
He slides out of bed, his legs
shaky, and heads to the bathroom.

The moment the door clicks shut,
Karen turns to Chip, her eyes filled
with a quiet determination. "You
see, Chip," she starts, her voice
softer now, "Your dad's stimming is
like his private conversation with
his brain. Sometimes, he'll start
saying random things, talking to himself,
working through his thoughts
and feelings. So when you
commented on it, it was like
you interrupted a conversation he
was having to himself, which can be
upsetting."

Chip nods, his eyes following the
path his dad took to the bathroom.
"But what if he's hurt?" he asks,
his voice barely above a whisper.
"How do we know if it's okay?"

Karen sighs, her expression
softening. "That's a good question,
Chip. We just need to be observant.
If he's happy or upset, his stims
might be different. And if he ever
looks like he's in pain, or if he's distressed,
that's when we step in, but first ask."

She takes a deep breath,
preparing herself for the next part
of their conversation. "But it's also
important to remember that even
though we can't always understand
what he's feeling or why he stims,
it's his way of dealing with the world.
So we need to be respectful, and not
make him feel weird or uncomfortable."

Chip nods, his gaze still on
the bathroom door. "I don't want
to make him feel bad," he says, his
voice sincere. Karen sits back down
beside him, her arm wrapping around
his shoulders. "We know" she
assures him. "You're a good kid,
Chip. You'll learn to read him
better than anyone else."

As Plankton emerges from
the bathroom, his face is washed
clean, but the fear lingers in
his eye. He sits back down on
the edge of the bed, his posture
rigid. Karen looks at him with
love and patience, waiting for him
to speak.

"Chip," she starts, her voice
careful. "You know how everyone
has their own ways of dealing with
stuff, right?" Chip nods, his gaze
flipping between his parents. "Well,
your dad's brain works a bit
differently than ours. Sometimes,
he needs to do things like rocking
or making sounds to help him
think and feel better. He may
even repeat words or phrases,
which is called echolalia. It's all
part of his autism, and it's his way of
navigating through the world."

Karen's eyes are filled with a
mixture of love and hope as she
speaks. "These are his stims, and
they're very personal to him. It's like
his own secret language, a way
to communicate with himself. So
when you see him doing these things,
it's important to remember that he's
not doing it for show, or for
attention. It's his brain's way of
talking to him, of keeping him calm."

Plankton nods slowly, his eye
dull with the weight of his secret
now out in the open. "And sometimes,"
Karen adds, "I've seen him come out
of seizures while talking to his brain."

"Seizures?" Chip asks, his voice
laced with fear. Plankton winces at
the word, but Karen nods. "They're not
like the seizures you might think of,
sweetie. They're a part of his autism.
It's like his brain's way of restarting,
of reorganizing itself when things
get too much."

Plankton finally speaks up, his
voice shaky. "I don't like it when you
saw me like that Chip," he admits.
"Now I'm... exposed. So just GO 
AHEAD AND STARE." He throws 
his hands up in a dramatic
gesture, his sarcasm clear. Chip
flinches, feeling a pang of guilt.

Karen puts a gentle hand on 
Plankton's knee. "Chip wasn't 
staring, sweetie. He was just 
trying to understand." She turns 
to Chip. "It's okay to be curious,
but remember, Dad's stims are like
his personal bubble. They help
him feel safe when the world 
is too loud or confusing. So unless
he's really upset or in pain, we
respect that space."

Chip nods, feeling a mix of
understanding and awkwardness.
He's never thought about his dad's
quirks as being part of something
so... significant. "Okay," he says,
his voice small. "I'll try not to
stare or interrupt."

Karen smiles warmly at him.
"That's all we ask, buddy. Just
love him the way you always have.
And if you have any questions, you
can always come to us. We're a team,
and we're all here for each other."

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 4
Plankton looks at Chip, his
eye searching for any sign of
judgment or fear. But all he sees
is confusion and concern. "I-I-I-I… I just..."

Karen takes over, her voice
soothing. "It's okay, Plankton.
You don't have to explain everything
right now. Chip just needs to
understand that your stimming is
private." "But why does he have to know?"
Plankton asks, his voice tight with
anxiety. "Why can't it just be our
secret?" Karen's expression is one
of compassion.

"Because, love," she says, her
hand still on his knee, "Chip is
part of our family, and he deserves
to know who you really are. And
his knowing won't change how
much we love you." Plankton nods
slowly, but the fear in his eye
doesn't dissipate entirely.

Chip sits quietly, watching his
parents interact. He's never
seen this side of his dad before,
and it's unsettling. But he
doesn't want to make things
worse. "I won't say anything, Dad,"
he promises, going to hug him.
"And I'll try to underst--"

"Don't!" Plankton recoils, his
body stiffening at the sudden
touch. Chip freezes, his arms
outstretched, unsure of what
just happened.

Karen's face falls. "Chip, remember.
Let him come to you when he's
ready." She looks at Plankton,
apology in her eyes. Plankton nods
slightly, his cheeks reddening.

"It's okay," Chip says, pulling away
and sitting back down on the bed.
"I just wanted to tell you that I
love you, Dad." Plankton's eye
softens, but he turns away, now
talking to himself, his voice low and
quick. "I told him not to stare," he
mumbles. "Doesn't he
understand." His eye darts around
the room, focusing on nothing.

Karen watches him, her heart
aching. Plankton's stims had
always been their secret, something
they'd navigated together. Now,
it was witnessed by Chip.

Plankton's voice grew louder,
his words a jumbled mess as he
spoke to himself. "I shouldn't have
let him see, no," he said. "Not. Today."

Karen watched him, her heart
breaking for her husband. She knew
how much he valued his privacy,
how much his autism was a part of
his identity, and now it was out in
the open for their son to see.

Chip looked at his mom, his eyes
full of confusion and concern.
Karen squeezed Plankton's hand
and turned to Chip. "Remember,
buddy, sometimes Dad needs to talk
to himself to make sense of things.
It's his way of organizing his thoughts."

Chip nodded, trying to
understand. "But why 
can't I hug you, Dad?" 
he asked softly.

Karen's voice was calm as
she explained. "Sometimes,
when people with autism
get overwhelmed, physical
contact can be too much for
them to handle, even if it's from
someone they love. And your
dad's sensitive to certain touch
Chip, okay?" Chip nodded, his
throat tight with emotion.

"It's okay, Chip," Karen said, her voice
soft. "Dad's just talking to himself,
like I said. It's his way of making
sense of things." She watched as Chip
processed this, his eyes never leaving
his father. "But remember, it's his
conversation. We should let him
have it without interrupting. And
right now, he's okay. He's just...
thinking out loud." She glanced at
Plankton, whose eye had stopped
darting around and was now focused
on the floor.

Chip nodded, his curiosity
getting the better of him. "But 
Mom, why does he need to st-" 
"I don't need to explain myself to
you!" Plankton snapped, cutting him
off. "You wouldn't understand 
anyway!" His voice was sharp,
like a knife slicing through
the quiet of the room.

Chip's eyes widened, and
he took a step back, his hands
raised in a placating gesture. "I'm 
sorry," he said, his voice small. "I just 
wanted to kno—"

"Chip," Karen interjected, her voice
gentle but firm. "Remember what you
learned. Dad's stimming is his private
time. We need to respect that." She
turned to Plankton, her expression
full of understanding. "It's okay,
love. You don't have to explain."

Plankton took a deep breath,
his rocking starting up again. "But
what if he doesn't respect me
anymore?" he whispered, his voice
shaking. Karen leaned in, her
eyes filled with love. "Chip loves
you, Plankton. And now he knows
a little more about you. That's all."

But Chip's questions didn't stop.
He was like a detective piecing
together a puzzle, his curiosity
unyielding. "What about the sounds
yo--"

"Chip," Karen's voice was firm but
kind. "Remember what we said.
Dad's stims are personal. Let's
give him space." But Chip's
mind was racing, trying to
make connections. "But does he
make sounds wh-"

"Chip," Plankton cut 
him off, his voice
strained. "Just KNOCK 
IT OFF and leave me 
alone, okay?" Chip felt
the sting of his dad's
words, his heart sinking.
He'd never seen Plankton
so agitated. Karen's grip
on his shoulder tightened.
"Chip," she said softly,
turning him to face her.
"Your dad's had a lot to
process today. Let's just
give him some space, okay?"

With a nod, Chip backed
away from the bed, his
eyes on his dad, who had
resumed rocking. He retreated to
his room. He'd always
thought his dad was just
quirky, a bit odd at times, but
now it all made sense. The
way he'd get lost in his
thoughts, the way he'd repeat
things, and how he'd sometimes
need his space. It was all part
of this... 'autism'. It was a lot to take
in, but he was determined to
understand.

Karen sat beside Plankton,
her hand resting lightly on his
back. "It's okay, sweetie," she
whispered, her voice soothing.
"Chip just needs time to
understand." Plankton's rocking
slowed, his breathing returning
to normal. "But what if he's
embarrassed?" he asked, his
eye still fixed on the floor.
"Embarrassed?" Karen echoed,
her voice gentle. "Why would
he be embarrassed? You're his
dad, and he loves you just as
you are. This is just something
new for him to learn." Plankton's
shoulders slumped, and he let
out a sigh.

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 5
The next morning, Chip
decided to go into his
parent's shared bedroom.
Karen was sitting beside
Plankton, who was in his bed.
Her hand was gently tracing
patterns on his arm. Plankton's
eye was closed, and the only 
sound in the room was his
softly rhythmic snoring.

The sight of his dad lying
there, peaceful and quiet, was
comforting. Plankton's chest
moved up and down with
each breath, and Chip felt
his own anxiety start to ease.
He sat down on the edge of
the bed, watching his dad
sleep, his curiosity now
tempered with empathy. Karen
smiled at him, her eyes full of
understanding. "It's okay," she
whispered. "He's just resting."
Chip nodded, watching
Plankton's antenna twitching
ever so slightly with each
breath. He'd never seen his
dad so still, so... peaceful.

The room was bathed in the soft
glow of the morning sun, and the
quiet was almost sacred. Chip
could see now how Plankton's
stims were like a shield,
how they protected him from a
world that could be too much at
times. And in sleep, that shield
was down, revealing the
vulnerable man beneath. Karen's
hand continued to trace gentle
patterns on his arm. Chip reached out,
his own hand hovering over
Plankton's arm, unsure if he
should touch him.

"It's okay," Karen mouthed,
seeing the uncertainty in Chip's
eyes. "He's sleeping." So Chip
placed his hand lightly on Plankton's
arm, mimicking his mom.

The warmth of Plankton's skin
under his palm felt surprisingly
normal. For a moment, Chip
forget about the storm of the
previous night and the revelation
of his dad's autism. He watched
the steady rise and fall of
his chest, the soft snores
that punctuated the silence.

Karen's eyes remained on her
husband, a tender smile playing
on her lips. Her hand never
ceased its gentle motion, the
love in the action palpable.
The sun painted the room
in soft, warm light, casting
a gentle glow across the
crumpled bedcovers and the
slightly open mouth of the
sleeping Plankton.

The rhythmic sound of his
snores filled the space, a
comforting symphony to
Karen's ears. She'd heard it
a thousand times before,
each inhale and exhale a
testament to his survival in
a world that often felt too
much for him. Chip sat
silently, his hand tentatively
resting on Plankton's arm.

In sleep, Plankton's armor
was down, revealing the
softness beneath. His
stims, the protective
shells he'd built around
his thoughts, had ceased.
The tension in his body
was replaced by a gentle
relaxation, as if even in
his subconscious, he knew
he was safe.

Karen's hand on
Plankton's arm was a silent
testament to their bond, a
wordless conversation that
transcended the barriers of
his condition. The gentle
movements, almost imperceptible
to an outsider, were a
soothing balm to Plankton's
nervous system. Chip felt a
wave of love and protectiveness
for his father wash over him,
a feeling that grew stronger
as he watched his mom's
caring ministrations. He studied the
contours of Plankton's face,
his sleep-slackened jaw and
the soft snores that rumbled.

He thought about the stims he'd
seen the night before, the
rocking, the muttering. Now,
his dad's quietude spoke
volumes about his need for
space and understanding. Chip
swallowed hard, his own
thoughts racing. He knew
his curiosity could sometimes
be intrusive, but he couldn't
help it. He wants to know
everything about his dad,
now more than ever.

As the minutes ticked by,
Plankton's snores grew softer,
until they were just a faint
whisper in the room. Karen's
hand never stopped moving,
her eyes never leaving his
face. It was like watching a
dance, a silent conversation that
only the two of them understood.

Chip felt a lump in his
throat, the gravity of the
situation starting to hit him.
He'd always known his dad
was different, but now he knew
why. Autism was a part of
Plankton that couldn't be
fixed or ignored, it was
a piece of him, as essential
as his antennae or his love
for Krabby Patties.

He watched as Karen
continued her silent vigil, her
touch a gentle reminder of
his dad's humanity amidst
his neurodivergence. Plankton
was still the same person,
his quirks and tics a part of
his identity, not a flaw to
be hidden. Chip's mind was
full of questions.

How had his dad managed to
keep this a secret for so long?
Why did he feel the need to
mask his true self? He knew
his dad was different, but he'd
never fully grasped the extent
of it. Plankton had always
been a whirlwind of energy,
his brain firing on all cylinders.
But now, watching him sleep,
his body at peace, Chip saw the
weight that Plankton carried
each day. The effort it took
to navigate a world that
wasn't built for him. The stims
were his crutch, his way of
finding balance. And Karen,
his rock, always there, offering
comfort with just a touch.

Karen looked up, her eyes
meeting Chip's. "You know,"
she said softly, "your dad's
always been like this. Since
before you were born. And I
fell in love with him knowing
of it, not despite it." Chip felt
his eyes sting with tears. He'd
never thought about his
parents' relationship in this
light before, the quiet strength
that must have been there
from the start.

He watched as Karen leaned
forward and kissed Plankton's
forehead. "He's always been
my hero," she whispered. "And
now, I want you to see him that
way too." Chip nodded, his
throat tight with emotion.

He took a deep breath and
moved closer to the bed, his hand
still hovering above Plankton's
arm. "What can I do?" he asked,
his voice barely above a whisper.
"What do you need from me?"

Karen's eyes never left Plankton's
face, but she squeezed Chip's hand.
"Just love him, Chip," she said,
her voice filled with warmth. "Be
his rock, just like I am."

Chip nodded, understanding
dawning. He leaned in and
kissed his dad's cheek, his
hand now resting gently on
his arm. Plankton's snores
hitched at the contact, and
Chip froze, his heart racing
as Plankton's eye fluttered open.

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 10
Plankton's antennae twitched with
the effort to hold himself together,
his body trembling.
He wished he could retreat into the
safety of his own world, where words
didn't have the power to cut so deep.
But he was trapped here, in a nightmare
that felt all too real.

Karen's eyes were a pool of sorrow,
her hand hovering in the air like a
ghostly specter, unable to find refuge
on his shaking form. She knew she'd hurt
him, and the weight of her mistake
was almost too much to bear. She
wanted to take back her words,
erase the pain from his memory. But she knew
that was a futile wish.

The room was a maelstrom of emotions,
each one a shard of glass in the air,
sharp and glinting with the promise of more
harm. Chip hovered in the doorway, his
eyes wide and full of fear. He'd
never seen his dad like this, never
felt the chasm that seemed to be
growing between them.

Karen's hand remained outstretched,
a silent plea for connection. But
Plankton's body was a wall of
defense, every inch of him
screaming for space. The touch
that had once been a comfort was
now a source of distress, a reminder
of his own vulnerability. He could see
the love in her eyes, but it was
tainted with the memory of her
hurtful word.

He felt a tear slip down his
face as Karen inched
closer. "Plankton, I didn't mean it,"
she said again. But it was too
late. The word had been spoken,
the damage done. "Please, I'm sorry,"
she whispered, her hand still hovering
a few inches from his shoulder.

Plankton's antennae quivered,
his body tense. The room was
spinning around him, the walls
closing in. He didn't want her
touch, not now. It felt like a lie,
a mockery of the love they shared.
He didn't know how to explain
his fear, his hurt. He could only
whimper and tremble.

Karen's heart was shattered with
regret. She knew she'd hurt him,
but she didn't know how to fix it.
Her hand hovered, desperate for
connection. "Plankton." She
knew she'd hurt him. "Are you ok?"

Plankton didn't move. He didn't
know how to answer, didn't know
how to express the turmoil
churning inside him. He felt
like he was drowning in his
own emotions. Karen's eyes
filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her
voice cracking. "I didn't mean to
hurt you." But Plankton's back
was to the wall as she approached
him in his corner.

Plankton's antennae quivered,
his heart racing. He knew Karen,
his rock, his anchor, didn't mean to
say it. But the pain was too
fresh, too deep. The slur she'd
used, even in anger, was a knife
that had sliced through his soul.
He felt the pressure building
up inside him.

"I-I-I-I… I lo-ove y-you, Karen.."

Karen's hand was so close, yet
so far. He wanted to lean into
her embrace, to find solace
in her love. But fear held him
back, a cold, unyielding force that
made his body tense. The room
spun, the walls closing in. He
was drowning in a sea of
confusion, fear, and sadness.

He watched her hand, so
gentle, so loving. But the word
still echoed in his mind, a cruel
reminder that even those
closest to him could cause him
harm. Karen wanted to fix it.

Karen took a step closer,
her hand still hovering. "Please,"
she whispered. "Let me help."
But Plankton was lost in the
labyrinth of his emotions,
his heart a cage of fear and
pain. He couldn't find the
words to explain, the strength
to accept comfort. He whimpered.

Her heart ached, her mind racing
with doubt. Had she lost him?
Had she broken the delicate
trust they'd built over the years?
Plankton's tremors grew, a silent
symphony of distress that she could
no longer ignore. Karen knew
his fear of being seen as less
than, the deep-seated anxiety that
his autism could be weaponized
against him. She needed to fix this,
to rebuild the bridge between
them. "Plankton, I'm not going anywhere,"
she murmured, her voice a gentle
wave lapping at the shore of his fear. "I'm
right he--"

But her words were cut off by a sudden
spasm that rippled through his body,
his antennae convulsing violently.
Karen's eyes widened in horror
as she recognized the signs.
"Seizure," she gasped, her voice
barely above a whisper. The room
swirled around them as she
moved closer, her hand outstretched.

Plankton's eye 
rolled back in
his head as his
legs start to buckle.
Karen's hand shot out,
catching him before he
hit the ground. She eased 
him to the floor.

Karen'd seen this
before, too many 
times to count.
"You're okay,
Plankton," she 
murmurs. "I'm 
right here."

Chip watched from the
sidelines, his eyes wide
with terror as his dad's
body thrashed. He's never
seen his dad like this
before. "Dad," he 
whispered, his voice 
shaking.

Plankton's body jerked
once, twice, three times,
before stilling. His antennae
flailed wildly, then fell
limp. Karen's eyes never left
his face. She knew he'd still
be quite out of it. Chip hovered, 
unsure of what to do. "Dad?"

Karen's voice was calm.
"This happens, Chip. He
is conscious, but not
really with us yet. Don't
be alarmed if he says
or does something that's
not quite right."

Plankton's legs rolled
his body onto his side
as drool trickles from his mouth.
His antennae twitched erratically,
his eye fluttered open and closed.
Karen wiped the drool away,
whispering comforts to him.
"You're okay," she said, her voice
soothing. "You're safe at home."

His body was like a ragdoll's,
his muscles loose and
his movements involuntary.
He was present, but not quite
there, unable to grasp the
concept, the words a jumble
of sounds that barely registered.

"W-water... blue... s-sticks,"
Plankton murmured. 
He was lost in his
post-seizure haze, his
thoughts a tangled web
of sensory input. 
Chip watched,
his heart in his throat.

Karen's eyes were
fixed on her husband. "It's ok,
sweetie," she soothed. "You're
safe." Plankton's antennae
twitched in response.

"Cam... subs...
s-sal-sal-sal?"
Karen nodded,
knowing better 
than to interrupt
his stream of 
consciousness.

"T-the it... makes...
makes me dizzy!
Yes; made me dizzy.."
Plankton's words
were a jumble of
half-thoughts, his
brain still trying
to reassemble.
Karen's heart broke
at the sight of him,
so lost in his own
mind. "It's okay," she
whispered, her hand
stroking his back.

Chip's eyes were wide,
his own brain racing to
understand what was happening.
He'd never seen his dad
like this before, his
strength and certainty
reduced to a quivering
mass of confusion. "Dad?"
his voice was small.

Plankton clutched 
at the air, his hand
then slapping the
carpet beside him.

"G-green... fishy...
no, not fishy, fishy-fishy!"
He giggled, his eye
still unfocused. The
words didn't make sense,
even to him.

Karen's hand continued to
stroke his back, her heart
aching at his distress.
"It's okay, Plankton," she
whispered. "You're okay."

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 11
The nonsensical 
words spilled
out. "Fizz-fizz-fizz..."

Karen watched him, her heart
in her throat. She knew this was
part of the process, his brain
recalibrating after a seizure.

"D-daddy?" Chip's 
voice was tiny. 
"What's happening?"

Karen took a deep
breath, trying to calm
herself enough to explain.
"It's okay," she said,
her voice shaky. "It's part
of his autism. Sometimes,
after a seizure, you dad's
brain gets overwhelmed. He
might say thi—"

But Plankton's rambling
cut her off. "Did? Might...
m-m-mighty... mighty... no,
not mighty... did!" He
laughed to himself, his eye
still unfocused.

Karen knew that
it was temporary, 
a side effect
of the seizure.

"Fizz-fizz-fish," Plankton
says, his voice distant.

Chip watched, his eyes
full of fear and curiosity.
He'd never seen his dad
so vulnerable. Karen took
his hand, her grip firm.
"It's okay," she whispered. "His
brain is just... reorganizing."

Plankton began
to steady. His
eye focused 
on Karen's face,
his voice a 
little clearer.
"K-Karen?"

Her heart skipped
a beat. "I'm here,
sweetie," she said,
smiling through
her tears. "You're ok."

Plankton's antennae
twitched as he
slowly came back to
his surroundings, the
fear and anger of
moments ago replaced
by confusion and
dizziness. Karen
moved closer.

"Dad, are you okay?"
Chip's voice was tentative.
Plankton's antennae
moved in jerky, uncontrolled
motions as he tried
to make sense of his
environment. "I... I think
so," he murmured, his eye
slowly focusing on his son.

The room was a blur of colors,
the sounds muffled and distant.
He felt the weight of their
stares, the unspoken
apologies and fear. He knew
what had happened, the searing
memory of the slur, the painful
reminder that he was different.

Plankton's antennae twitched as
his thoughts slowly coalesced,
his mind fighting to find
purchase in the chaos. "W-what... what
happen'd?" he stuttered.

Karen's eyes searched his,
filled with a mix of love and
apology. "You had a seizure,
sweetie," she said, her voice
barely above a whisper. "Do you
remember what happened before?"

Plankton's antennae quivered of
emotion. The argument, the
slur, the pain... it all
came rushing back. He nodded,
his eye dropping to the floor.
"Yeah," he murmured, his voice
hoarse. "I remember."

Karen's hand hovered over
his shoulder, but she didn't
dare touch him yet. "I'm sorry,"
she whispered, her voice cracking.
"For everything.." Plankton nods.

He knew she meant it, yet the
sting of her words still lingered,
like a shadow that wouldn't leave
his side. "It's okay," he said, his
voice a weak echo. "I know you didn't...
but it still hurts." His antennae
drooped, a silent testament
to his pain. "Yet I forgive you, Karen."

Karen's eyes filled 
with tears. "I know," 
she said. Chip nods.
"I'm sorry too, Da-"

But Plankton cut him off, 
his antennae jerking 
with irritation. "Don't," 
he murmured. "Don't say 
YOU'RE sorry. YOU don't 
understand. You're not
like your mother."

Chip felt the sting of truth 
in his dad's words. He didn't
understand. He'd always
thought he knew Plankton, but
now he realized there was a
world of experience, of pain,
that he'd been blind to. "What
can I do?" he asked, his voice 
desperate. "How ca--"

But Plankton was already 
getting to his feet, his body 
shaky. "You can't," he said,
his voice tight. "You can't
make this right with sorrys."

Chip felt the weight of
his dad's words.
"But I want to," he 
whispered. "I don't know
what to do, but I wa-"

Plankton's antennae 
twitched with agitation.
"You don't know what it's
like," he snapped. "You've
never had to live with
this, with people thinking
you're less because of it."
The room felt colder,
the air heavier with each
sharp syllable. "You can't fix
this, Chip."

Chip felt so
helpless, so utterly
powerless in the face
of his father's pain. "But
I want to understand,"
he protested, his voice
a whisper of hope. "I want
to help. I mean, you forgave Mo-"

"I forgave her because she
understood!" Plankton's voice
was a whipcrack of anger.
"You think your sorry fixes it?"
his antennae trembled
with agitation. "It doesn't.
And don't compare yourself
to your mother. She knows me,
understands me, advocates for me.
But you're not her, Chip.
You're not even close."

Chip felt the blow, the truth
cutting through him like a knife.
He knew Plankton was right.
He didn't know what it was like,
to live with autism, to fight
against a world that didn't
understand. He'd been blind
to his father's struggles,
his ignorance a wall between
them. "What do you want me
to-"

But Plankton was already
turning away, his body
a rigid line of anger.
"I want you to leave me alone,"
he snapped. "I don't need
your pity or your half-hearted
apologies!"

Chip felt his world crumbling,
his hope for understanding
and reconciliation
shattered by the coldness
in his father's voice. He
swallowed the lump in his
throat, his eyes brimming
with tears. "But Dad..."

Plankton's antennae jerked
sharply. "I said leave me
alone!" The words were a
whip crack in the air,
slicing through the tension.
Chip didn't know what to do,
how to make it right.

Karen stepped in. "Chip, maybe
you should give him some
space," she suggested, her eyes
filled with pain.

Chip nodded, his heart
heavy with defeat. He didn't
want to leave, but he knew
his presence was only
adding to Plankton's distress.
"Okay," he murmured, his
feet dragging across the floor.

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 12
As Chip retreated to his
room, he couldn't help but
feel the gap between them
widen. He'd always
thought they were close,
that he knew his father
inside and out. But now
he realized there was so
much more to Plankton.

Karen's gentle touch was
the only thing grounding
Plankton to reality. He felt
his anger dissipate,
leaving a vacuum filled
with exhaustion and sorrow.
"I'm sorry," she murmured,
her eyes never leaving his
as he leaned into her embrace.

His antennae stopped trembling
as he allowed the warmth
of her love to seep into
his bones. "I know," he
whispered. "I know."

Plankton felt the exhaustion
of the day's events settle
over him like a thick blanket.
The anger and fear drained
from his body, leaving him
weary and sleepy. His eye
closed as he leaned into 
her touch.

The room grew quieter.
Karen held him close, her
heart aching for his pain.
Plankton's antennae drooped, his
body heavy with exhaustion.
His eyelid fluttered.
He leaned into Karen's embrace,
his body finally relaxing.

Her hand stroked his back,
soothing circles that seemed to
lull him closer to slumber.
"You're okay," she whispered.
"You're safe." His breathing
evened out, a gentle rise
and fall that spoke of
approaching sleep.

"Rest," she murmured. "We
can talk when you wake up."
Karen felt the tension leave
his body as sleep claimed
him, her hand still
moving in gentle circles.
Her eyes searched his
face, her heart a storm of
emotions. She knew the
seizure had taken a toll
on him, knew the pain of
his words was rooted in
fear and hurt.

As his breathing grew
steadier, his antennae
stilled, she felt the
weight of his head
against her shoulder,
his trust in her a silent
testament to their bond.
Karen held him tight,
his warmth seeping into
her. She knew he
needed this, needed to
feel safe.

His gentle snores filled the
silence, a soft reminder that he
was safe in her arms. Karen felt
his body go slack, his antennae
stilling as sleep claimed him.
The anger had fled, leaving
behind the fragile shell of
his vulnerability. She held him
closer, her heart aching for the
pain he'd felt, the fear that
still lingered.

Her eyes searched his
slumbering face, tracing the
lines of his features with
a soft touch. Plankton was
her everything, her rock, her
love.

Gently, she picked him up,
his body limp with the
exhaustion. She carried him
carefully as she laid him down,
his antennae drooping in sleep.
Karen tucked him in bed, her eyes
lingering on his face. She made sure
a favorite plushie was within
reach. Plankton's chest
rose and fell in a steady
rhythm, his breathing deep
and peaceful.

With a soft sigh, she
kissed his forehead. 
His antennae twitched
but he didn't stir.

Karen's eyes
were filled with love
and regret as she
watched him sleep.
The gentle rise and fall
of his chest was a 
comforting testament 
to his resilience.

The next morning, Karen
knew she had to take
Plankton to the dentist
for x-rays. She woke
Chip up. "Chip," she says.
"Your dad has to go to
the dentist today for a
checkup."

Chip nodded, his eyes
still clouded with sleep.
"Okay," he murmured. "Can
I come?" "Yes."

They arrive 
at Plankton's
dentist office 
for the x-ray.
The receptionist 
smiled. "Mr. 
Plankton, Dr. Coral 
will see you now."

Dr. Coral greeted the
family as they entered
the exam room. "Good
morning, Plankton," she
smiled, her eyes kind. "So,
today we're just going to
do our usual x-rays. Can
you open wide?"

Plankton nodded, antennae
twitching nervously. 
He sat in the chair,
his legs swinging slightly
as he tried to find a
comfortable position.
Karen held his hand, her
thumb brushing over his
knuckles in a soothing
motion. "It'll be quick,"
she whispered. Chip sat
in the corner, his eyes
on his dad, his heart heavy
with unspoken words.

The assistant, a young
clownfish named Penny,
finished with taking x-rays.

Dr. Coral peered at
the images, her eyes
flicking back and forth
between the x-rays and
Plankton's mouth. "Good
job," Penny tells him.

"Everything looks
okay," Dr. Coral began.
"Yet it looks like we
have some wisdom
teeth coming in. They're
not causing anything
right now, but we should
go ahead and remove them
as a preventative mea-"

Plankton's antennae shot
up. "No," he said firmly, his
voice tight with anxiety.
"I don't like... don't
like poking... mouth...
no." His stims grew more
intense, his hands flapping
at his side.

Karen squeezed his hand,
trying to offer reassurance.
"It's okay," she murmured.
"It's just a li-"

"NO!" Plankton's voice
was loud, echoing in the
small room. Chip flinched.
Dr. Coral's eyes widened
slightly, but she remained
calm. "Let's talk about this,
Plankton," she said, her voice
gentle. "We can go slow."

But Plankton was already
spiraling. The mere mention
of the procedure had
ignited anxiety in him. His
stims grew more intense,
his antennae flailing wildly.
"No poking, no poking, no
poking!" he chanted, his
body rocking in the chair.

Dr. Coral's expression
shifted, her gaze moving
from the x-rays to Plankton.
She knew he had special
needs, had seen the signs
of his autism before.
But today was different.
Today, the fear in his eye
was palpable, his body
a testament to the stress
he was under.

"Let's take it slow," she
soothed, her voice a gentle
wave. "We can talk about
this, okay?"

Plankton's antennae
stilled slightly, his
body tensing. "But no
poking," he whispered,
his eye wide with fear.
Karen nodded, her eyes
meeting Dr. Coral's.
"We'll find a way," she
promised. "A way that
makes you feel safe."

Dr. Coral nodded, her
expression understanding.
"We'll take it step by step,
Plankton," she said, her voice
low and calm. "We'll work
together to find the best
solution for you."

new to see or not to see chip plankton penny

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 13
"Okay," Plankton murmured,
his antennae drooping.
"Step by step." Karen nodded,
her grip on his hand tight.
"We'll get through this."

Penny nods. "We've various
ways to administer the
local anesthetic," she says,
her voice soothing. "Which
one do you prefer?" Plankton's
stims decrease slightly, his
eye blinking rapidly as he
considers. "The gel," he murmurs.
She nods. "Okay. So after the
gel, we'll give it a few minutes
to work, and then we'll start
the extraction process. So for
that, we'll have you leave your
mouth open as we get a tool
used to cut the g-"

He jerks back. "No," he says,
his antennae quivering. "No
cutting. No poking. No
tools." His voice is
desperate, his eye wide
with fear.

Karen's eyes searched
Dr. Coral's, silently pleading
for understanding. She knew
his sensitivity to pain was
exacerbated by his autism. "Is there
another way?" she asks, her voice
even.

Dr. Coral nodded. "We can
consider IV sedation," she said.
"It's something we offer to patients
with severe anxiety or sensory
issues. But I think general
anesthesia's our best bet. It's
like laughing gas, nitrous
oxide yet it'll simply keep him
asleep during the whole
procedure."

Karen felt a weight lift from
her shoulders. "Okay," she said.
"We can do that."

Dr. Coral nodded. "Good.
We'll schedule you for
general anesthesia. It'll be
easier on everyone. Tomorrow
morning works for you?"
Karen nodded. "Yes,
we'll make it here, bright
and early."

The drive home was
silent, the tension in
the car thick as
the kelp outside. Plankton
was curled in his seat, his
body tight with residual fear.
Chip's mind raced, trying
to process everything that had
happened. His dad, so strong
and sure, had crumpled before
his eyes like a discarded
piece of paper.

Once home, Karen helped
Plankton to the couch. Chip 
hovered nearby, his eyes 
darting between his
parents, unsure of what to do.
"Why don't you go play in
your room," Karen suggested,
her voice gentle. "Let me take
care of your dad."

He nodded, retreating
to his room with a heavy
heart. The silence in the
house was deafening, a stark
contrast to the chaos
of the dentist's office.

Karen helped Plankton
pick out a blanket and
a stuffed animal,
comfort items, for the
oral surgery tomorrow.

Plankton's stims were
more pronounced as he
tried to process the
information. "It'll be
okay," she whispered.
He nodded, his antennae
still twitching.

"We'll be there with you,"
she assured him. "Every
step of the way."

Early the next day
Karen got up so
she could take 
Plankton back for 
his wisdom teeth
removal procedure.
He was already
awake, his antennae 
twitching with nervous
energy. Chip also will
go with them.

Plankton sat up front with
his blanket and plush.
Karen squeezed his hand.
"Remember, sweetie, it's
going to be okay."
He nodded, his antennae
drooping slightly as he
turned to look out the
window. Chip sat in the
back, his eyes glued to
his father's reflection.

They arrived at the
dental clinic, and
the receptionist looked
up, her smile faltering
slightly at the sight
of Plankton's agitation.
"Dr. Coral is almost
ready, so have a seat in
the waiting area."

As they all sat, Plankton started
rocking back and forth, his
stims increasing with each
moment that ticked by. "Hnnn,"
Plankton hums.

Karen's eyes searched the room
for anything that might help
calm him, but the bright lights
and the cacophony of sounds
only seemed to exacerbate his
discomfort. The fish flipping
through magazines, the TV playing
a children's show, the distant
whine of a drill from a
different room—each
element a potential minefield
for his sensitive senses.

Chip watched his dad, his
throat tight with anxiety.
He'd never seen him like
this, so vulnerable and
frightened. Karen reached
over and placed a tentative
hand on Plankton's shoulder.
"It's okay," she whispered,
but Plankton flinched away,
his antennae quivering. Karen
understood. Plankton's in
need of his space, and she
wouldn't push him. She knew
today's particularly
overwhelming.

Dr. Coral called
them back, and Plankton's
body stiffened. Karen
stood up, her arm around
his waist, guiding him
toward the open door.
"Let's go, sweetie," she
murmured. "It's time. Chip
will stay here in the waiting
room, okay?"

The surgery room was
a stark contrast to the
waiting area. The lights were
dimmer, the sounds softer.
The smell of antiseptic
was faint, but it was enough
to make Plankton's antennae
twitch with anxiety. Karen
noticed and whispered,
"You can keep your plushie
with you."

He nodded, his grip on
the stuffed animal tight.
They approached the
exam chair, and he allowed
Karen to help him climb up.

The nurse, a kind octopus
named Octavia, smiled. "Hi!
I'll make sure you're comfy
and snoozing while Dr. Coral
takes out the wisdom teeth.
She told me about your needs
and we've the gas, okay? And
Karen will stay with you the
whole time."

Plankton's antennae stopped
twitching momentarily, his
eye blinking rapidly as he
tried to process her words.
"You'll stay?" he asked, his
voice small, hopeful. Karen
nodded. "I'll be here." He held
out his hand for her to hold and
she took it. The stuffed plush
was in his other arm.

The nurse, Octavia,
prepared a mouth
prop. "This is going to
help keep your mouth open
comfortably," she explained,
her voice gentle. "It's
soft, and it won't pinch."
Plankton's antennae
twitched, his eye narrowing.
It looked like a pair of
plastic salad tongs. He
opened his mouth and allowed
her to place it gently.

Dr. Coral entered,
her smile reassuring.
"Ready?" she asked. Plankton
nodded, his antennae
still. Karen took his hand,
squeezing it tight. 

new to see or not to see octàvia 13

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 14
The gas mask was placed
over his face, and he took
deep breaths as instructed.
The world grew fuzzy.
His eye grew heavy,
his antennae drooping.
Karen watched as Plankton's
body grew slack, his antennae
finally still. The gas did its job,
lulling him into a deep sleep.

Dr. Coral smiles at 
Octavia's nod, indicating
that the anesthesia had
taken full effect. Plankton's
body was now relaxed. 
Octavia then administered
the IV as she removed the
gas mask. "Alright, Karen,"
Dr. Coral began, her voice
soft. "We're going to get
started now. Remember,
he's going to sleep through
this, okay?" Karen nods as
they also inject local
anesthetic into his gums.

Plankton's snores filled
the room, a gentle rhythm
that was a stark contrast
to the precision of the surgical
procedure. Dr. Coral and her
team began the extraction.
Karen's eyes never left
Plankton's face, her thumb
absently stroking the back
of his hand. She watched as
Dr. Coral carefully extracted
the wisdom teeth. Octavia, the
nurse, went to work with
the suction device, keeping
his mouth clear.

Plankton's snores grew
steadier, a testament to
his deep sleep. Karen's
grip on his hand tightened
as the surgery progressed.

The extraction was
quick, each tooth pulled
gently and with care.
Plankton's face remained
peaceful, oblivious to the
world around him. His antennae
twitched slightly as Dr. Coral
worked, but he was lost in
the depths of his slumber.

Once the teeth were out,
Dr. Coral turned to the
stitches. Plankton's
body remained still, his
snores a comforting
background noise. "We're
using stitches that 
dissolve. Since he's prone
to spasms, we're just putting
more of them in just in case.
It's our protocol for patients
with a history of seizures
or epileptic disorders."

The removal of the IV
was next, and Karen felt
her heart race. She knew
this could be a trigger
for him, if he were awake.

As Dr. Coral finished up,
she looked to Karen. "Okay,
now for the gauze."

Karen nodded, her eyes
never leaving Plankton's
face. She knew the next
part could be tricky, but
Dr. Coral had assured her
that they'd done everything
possible to ensure his comfort.
The nurse, Octavia, stepped back 
in with Chip, handing Dr. Coral
the gauze. The room was
quiet except for the soft
snores of Plankton as they
remove the mouth prop.

Dr. Coral carefully packed
the gauze into his mouth,
the cottony softness
melding with the contours
of his gums. Each movement
was precise, each touch
gentle. Plankton's antennae
twitched in his sleep,
his body reacting to the
foreign sensation, but
he remained asleep.

"Remember, Karen," she
whispered, her voice
soothing. "When he wakes
up, he might be a bit
loopy. It's normal with
the anesthesia. He might
not remember much, or
he might say things that
don't make sense. It's also
ok if he takes a lot of naps.
So, don't worry too much.
It takes a little while. Oh, and his 
mouth has also been numbed."

Plankton's snores grew
even, the surgery
now complete. Karen
kisses his forehead. "You
did so well," she murmured.
Chip came to the
doorway, his heart
thudding in his chest.
He'd never seen his
dad so vulnerable.

Plankton's mouth was
slack, a thin line of drool
trailing down his chin as
he slept. Karen dabbed it away
with a gentle napkin, her eyes
filled with love and concern.
"The drool is normal and ok,"
Octavia said.

The surgery had been a success,
yet she knew the next week of
recovery could be a challenge.

Plankton slept, his mouth open
slightly, another trickle of
drool forming at the corner
of his lips. Karen watched
over him, her heart swelling with
relief and love. Chip hovered
in the doorway, his eyes
following the soft rise and
fall of his father's chest.

Karen's mind raced with
thoughts of the coming week,
knowing that Plankton would
need around-the-clock care.
He'd need his meals softened,
his mouth cleaned, his pain
managed. Yet she felt a sense
of peace settle over her. They'd
faced so much, and together,
they'd navigate this too.

The nurse, Octavia, noticed
Chip's concern. "It's normal,"
she assured him, her voice
soft. "The medicine makes
his muscles relax. He won't
be like this forever."

Plankton's mouth remained
open slightly, the gentle
snores punctuating the quiet
room. Karen sat in the chair
beside him, her hand never
leaving his. She studied his
face, the peacefulness of his
sleep a stark contrast to
his fear earlier. She couldn't
help but chuckle at the
slight drool that had formed
on his plushie. It had
soaked through to the fabric,
leaving a damp spot.

The nurse, Octavia,
smiled at Chip. "It's normal,"
she said. "The anesthesia
can do that." Karen nodded,
her eyes never leaving Plankton.
"But it's okay," she added,
seeing the concern in Chip's
expression. "He's safe. He's
not feeling any pain."

Chip nodded, his
throat tight. He'd never seen
his dad so vulnerable.
He watched as a drop of
drool slipped from
Plankton's mouth, landing
on the plushie in his arm.
It was a strange sight,
his dad, the man who
always had everything
under control, now lying here,
defenseless in sleep.
But the sight of Karen,
so calm and loving, her
hand in his dad's, gave him
comfort. He knew that
together, they could handle
anything. Chip took a
deep breath, steeling himself
for the days ahead. He'd
have to be there for Plankton,
just like his mom.

new to see or not to see plushiecore coral

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 15
As the anesthesia 
began to wear off,
Plankton's snores grew
quieter. His antennae
twitched slightly, a sign
that he was coming back
to consciousness. Karen
was there, her hand
still in his, ready to face
whatever the waking world
brought with him.

His eyelid fluttered open,
his pupil dilated and
unfocused. "Mmph," he
mumbled, his mouth
filled with gauze. Karen's
heart jumped. She leaned
in closer, her voice soft.
"Hey, Plankton, you're okay.
You're back!"

Plankton looked at her,
his antennae twitching.
"Wha...?" he mumbled,
his speech slurred from
the anesthesia. He tried
to sit up, but the nurse,
Octavia, gently pushed
his shoulders back down.
"Easy, Mr. Plankton,"
she said. "Take i---" "Wha...
Whath...?" Plankton interrupts.

Karen leaned closer.
"You had your wisdom teeth
taken out," she explained
gently. "You're going to be
a bit sleepy and your mouth
is going to feel funny."

Plankton's antennae twitched
as he took in her words.
"Teef?" he slurred, his voice
higher than usual. "Owies?"

Karen nodded, her smile
soft. "Yes, but you're all
done now." She gently
stroked his cheek. "You
were so brave."

Plankton's antennae
twitched as he tried to
comprehend. The world
was a blur, his mouth
still numb and filled with
cottony gauze. "Windom
teef?" he mumbled.

Karen's eyes filled with
compassion as she
nodded. "Yes, sweetie,
they took them out to
make sure you don't 
hurt." She held up
his plushie, now wet
from the drool. "Remember
your friend here?"

Plankton blinked, his
eye focusing on the
plushie. He nodded
slightly, his antennae
slowing their twitching.
"Fwens," he murmured,
his voice faint. Karen
pressed the stuffed animal
to his chest. "You did
so good," she whispered.
"Now, let's get you home
so you can rest."

Chip stepped forward,
his own anxiety
easing slightly at the
sight of his dad's
confusion. He reached
for the plushie. "Da-"
But Plankton's eye
widened. "No!" he
protested, his voice
slurred. "Ith’s mime!"
Karen's eyes met Chip's.
"Let him have it," she
whispered. "It's a
comfort object." Chip
nodded, stepping back.

The nurse, Octavia,
smiled gently. "Okay,
Mr. Plankton, let's get
you sitting up now."
Plankton's antennae
twitched as he complied,
his movements slow
and clumsy. Chip couldn't
help but feel a pang of
sympathy at the sight of
his dad so out of sorts.

Karen helped him
into a sitting position,
his eye still unfocused.
"Whewe am I again?" he asked,
his voice small and lost.
"You're at the dentist,"
Karen said, her voice
soothing. "Remember the
surgery?"

Plankton blinked, his
memory foggy. "Teethies?"
He looked around the room,
his antennae quivering.
"Ith wath scawy," he said,
his voice trembling. "Buth
now it'th aww done?"

Karen nodded, her smile
reassuring. "Yes, sweetie,
it's all done. You're okay."
Chip watched, his heart
swelling with emotion.
His dad's confused speech
from his numb mouth
was a stark reminder of
his vulnerability.

"Buth I don't feew ith,"
Plankton said, his antennae
drooping. "Mowf, funny."
Karen nodded, her eyes
never leaving his. "It's
because the doctor had to
make your mouth sleepy,"
she explained. "But we'll get
you home, and you can take
more naps to feel better."

Chip watched his dad,
his heart aching. The
brave front Plankton had
put on was gone, replaced
by childlike bewilderment
from the lingering anesthesia.

"C-can go hone now?"
Plankton mumbled, his voice
still thick and slurred. Karen
nodded, her eyes filled with
pity. "Yes, we're going home
right now." She turned to
Octavia. "Can we go?"
The nurse nodded.

As they helped Plankton
into the car, his movements
were still clumsy, his coordination
off from the anesthesia.
He leaned heavily on Karen,
his antennae drooping.
"Thath way," he murmured,
his eye pointing in the
general direction of the
car. Chip stepped aside,
his heart heavy as he watched
his dad's unsteady gait.
Once inside, Karen
buckled him in and put
his blanket over. "Here
you go," she said, her voice
soothing. "Everything's going
to be okay."

Falling asleep as Karen drove,
Plankton's head lolled to the
side, his mouth open, drool
pooling in the corner. His
snores were low and rhythmic,
his antennae still, and his mouth
was slack. Karen giggled. "Plankton
how you doing?" He stirred, antennae
twitching slightly. "Mmf," 
he murmured. "Tham."

Karen's eyes filled with love.
"We're almost home," she said.
"Just a little longer."

Plankton nodded, 
his antennae
still droopy. "Karen
I'm tiwweeddd!"
Karen couldn't help but
laugh, her heart
warming at his slurred
speech.

"Whewe's Chip?" he asked
suddenly, his voice groggy.
Karen looked in the rearview
mirror. "He's right here,
behind us," she assured him.
"Keeping an eye on you."

Chip felt his cheeks warm
with the attention. Plankton's
confusion was so innocent,
like a child's, it was hard
not to be drawn in by it.
He leaned forward. "Hi, Dad,"
he said gently.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye searching the
backseat. "Chip?"

Chip nodded, trying to
smile. "I'm here, Dad."
Plankton's gaze was
glassy, his voice slurred.
"You...shay?" "Yes, Dad," 
Chip said. "I'm right
here."

new to see or not to see patientcore octavia

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 16
"Wha...whath 
time ith it?"
Plankton asked, 
his speech
still thick.

Karen glanced at
the clock on the
dashboard. "It's
almost noon, sweetie,"
she said, her voice
steady. "We're going
to get you home,
and you can take
a nice, long nap."

Plankton nodded, his
eye half-closed. "Nan?"
he repeated, the word
almost a question.
Karen nodded. "Yes,
nap. And then we can
make you something
soft and yummy to eat."
The mention of food
seemed to rouse him
slightly, his antennae
perking up. "Puddink?" 
he mumbled. Karen
laughed again. "Yes, 
sweetie, pudding."

"Whewe...whath..." he
slurred, his head rolling
slightly.

Karen chuckled. "You're
so tired, aren't you?"
Plankton nodded, his
eye half-closed. "Home,"
he murmured. "Wan' home.
Karen wiww make puddink?"

"Yes, sweetie, we're
going home," Karen said,
her voice filled with warmth.
"And can make pudding for
you." She squeezed his hand.
"Do you want chocolate or
vanilla?" Plankton's antennae
twitched as he thought.
"Chocowate," he mumbled,
his speech still slow.

Chip watched his dad,
his heart aching at the
childlike way he spoke. It was
both endearing and heart-
wrenching, a stark
reminder of the toll the
anesthesia and surgery had
taken on him.

"Chocowate," Plankton
repeated, his voice
slurred. "Pwease." Karen
nodded, her smile gentle.
"Of course, sweetie," she
soothed. "Chocolate pudding
it is."

Karen finally parked in
their driveway. "We're home,"
she said softly, turning
to face Plankton. His
antennas twitched at the
mention of home, his eye
fighting to stay open.
Karen helped him out of
the car, his legs wobbly.
"Come on," she coaxed, "Let's
get you inside." Chip also
followed them in.

In the living room,
Plankton stumbled to the
couch, his stuffed animal
still clutched in his arm.
He looked around, his
expression lost. "Bathwom?" he
slurred. "No, Plankton," Karen
laughed, helping him lay down.
"You're home."

Plankton's eye 
widened. "Chip?" he
slurred. His son
smiled, his own anxieties
easing slightly. "Yeah, Dad, it's me."
He approached the couch, his
movements deliberate and
slow.

"Ith's sho bwight," Plankton
whispered, his gaze flickering
around the room. The
normalcy of their home
was overwhelming in his
current state. Karen
understood, her eyes filled
with compassion. "Let's
get you comfortable," she
said, helping him adjust his
pillows. "Do you need anything?"

He looked at her with
his one eye, so full of
trust and confusion. 
"I needff Karen and-a Chip."
Karen's heart melted at his
words. "You have us," she
whispered, brushing his
forehead. "We're right here."

Plankton nodded, his antennae
finally still. "Thath's goob,"
he murmured. "Thath's vewy 
goob. Can Chip...can Chip
thee me?"

Chip's eyes widened slightly,
his throat tight. He took a
step closer to the couch. "Yeah,
Dad, I'm here."

Plankton's gaze found
his son's, his antennae
still droopy. "Tawk to me,"
he slurred. "Chip wanth
tawk to me?"

Chip nodded. "Of course,
Dad." He took a seat next
to him, his heart heavy.
He wasn't used to seeing
his dad so open, so...
talkative.

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly as he
looked to Chip's voice,
his mind still groggy from
the surgery. "Wha...whath's
wrong, Chip?" he mumbled, his
words thick with the
remnants of the anesthesia.
Chip took a deep breath.
"Nothing's wrong, Dad," he
said softly. "I just want
to be here with you."
Plankton's antennae
wobbled as he processed
his son's words. "Wiww you
thtay?" he asked, his eye
half-closed. Karen
watched from the kitchen,
her eyes filled with love
and concern. She knew
his confusion was temporary,
but it still tugged at her
heartstrings.

Chip nodded, his voice
gentle. "Yeah, Dad, I'll stay."
Plankton's antennae
stilled. "Thath's good,"
he murmured. "Chip, can I...
can I...hamv?" His voice was
tiny, his one eye looking
up at his son with hope. "Chip
my hamg, hamv in youw hamv?"

Chip felt a lump form in
his throat. He knew that
his dad was reaching out
for comfort, seeking the
safety of touch. Despite
his initial shock, he nods.
"Sure, Dad," he whispered,
his voice thick. "You can
have my hand."

Plankton's antennae
perked up slightly at the
offer, his eye still
half-closed. He reached
over, his movements
sluggish, and grasped Chip's
hand with his own. Chip felt
his dad's grip tighten, his
thumb stroking the back of
his hand gently. The simple
touch was a stark
contrast to the firm handshakes
and stern demeanor
his dad usually allowed.
Plankton's voice was
barely audible as he
whispered, "Than' you, Chip."
Chip swallowed hard, his
throat tight. "It's okay, Dad,"
he murmured back. "I'm
right here." Karen
watched them from the
kitchen, her eyes shiny with
unshed tears.

The sight of
his dad, so dependent and
confused, was hard for
Chip to process. Yet,
he felt a strange comfort
in it, a bond forming
between them that transcended
the typical father-
son dynamics.

Plankton's eye grew
heavy, his antennae
drooping. "Sowwy," he
mumbled. "Wan' go...go 
sleep. No moreth of touch."
Chip nodded, his heart
swelling with emotion.
"It's okay, Dad," he said.
"You just rest." He
gently removed his hand,
his eyes never leaving
his father's face.

Plankton's antennae
twitched one last time
before his eye closed,
his breathing evening out.
The plushie was clutched
tightly to his chest,
his hand lying open
on the couch cushion.
Karen watched him, her
love for him so clear.

"He's going to be okay,"
she assured Chip. "The
medicine will wear off
by tomorrow. Just give him
some space and quiet."

Chip nodded, his
concern still etched in
his features. Plankton
was usually so sharp,
so in control. Seeing him
like this was unusual.
Karen smiles. "Here," she
whispered. "Let's clean
his mouth."

They gently removed the
blood-soaked gauze,
replacing it with a fresh
one. Plankton's eye
flipped open for a second,
his antennae quivering.

"Wha...?" he murmured,
his voice still slurred. Karen
smiled, her voice gentle. "It's
okay, Plankton. Just a little
clean up." Plankton nodded,
his eye half-closed again.
"Mm-hmm, jush a wiww 
cweam up." He parrots via
echolalia, despite his slurred speech
and droopy antennae. "Than' you,"
he murmured again, his voice
tiny. "Wove you."

Karen's heart squeezed at
his words. "I love you too,
sweetie," she said. "Now
I'll help you to your bed, so
you can sleep off the rest of
any anesthesia."

Karen supported him to his
feet, his legs wobbly. Plankton
stumbled slightly, his antennae
twitching in confusion. "Bed," he
slurred. "Bed." She
guided him upstairs, his steps
slow and unsteady. "Careful,
sweetie," she said, her voice
soothing. "Just a few more."

Chip trailed behind them. 
As they reached the bed
room, Karen helped him
onto the bed. "Wha...wha's fis?"
he mumbled. "It's our room, Plankton,"
Karen said, her voice
gentle. "You need to rest
now." Plankton's antennae
twitched as he took in
his surroundings, his gaze
focusing on the familiar
sight of his bed. "Oh,"
he murmured, his speech still
slurred. "Bed."

Karen helped him lay
back, his body slumping
into the softness. His
stuffed animal was placed
carefully beside him, his
hand still wrapped around
it. "Comfortable?" she
asked, her eyes filled with
concern. Plankton nodded,
his antennae still. "Mm-hmm,"
he mumbled. "Go night."

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 18
Chip took a deep breath, his
eyes never leaving his dad's.
"I know that stims can help
yo--" "Chip," Plankton interrupts,
his antennae stiff. "It's not
your place to analyze my
behaviors." His voice was firm,
but there was a hint of sadness
behind it.

Curiosity getting the better
of him, Chip's hand began to
mirror Plankton's movements.
He watched his own hand move in
tiny circles, feeling the
familiarity of it. "It's like
how you do it, Dad," he murmured,
his eyes wide. Plankton's
antennas shot up, his gaze
snapping to Chip's hand. "What?"
he barked, his voice sharp.

Chip's hand stilled, his eyes
meeting Plankton's. "I just...
I wanted to-"

Plankton's antennae quivered.
"Why are you doing that?"
he asked, his voice tight with
emotion. Chip's eyes never
left his hand, his mind
racing. "I...I just wanted to
understand," he murmured. "It's okay,
Dad," he said. "It's just...
it's something we can share‽"

Karen watched the exchange,
her heart in her throat. She knew
that Plankton's autism was a
complex, personal experience,
and she wasn't sure how he'd
react to their son's attempt to—

But Plankton's eye 
burned with fury at 
the thought. It
was his, his way to cope,
his private struggle, not
for others to address
or copy. "Don't you
DARE!" he shouted.
Chip stumbled back, 
his eyes wide with 
shock and fear.

In an instant,
Plankton's anger 
spilled over into action.
He threw his pillow 
across the room, the
soft thud echoing through
the silent house. Karen 
flinched, her hand
flying to her mouth.

Chip had never seen 
his dad so out of control.
"Dad," he whispered, his voice
shaking. "It's okay, it's just-"

But Plankton wasn't 
listening. His body was a 
whirlwind of emotions, his
autism manifesting in a 
physical display of anger. He 
swung his arm, knocking
knickknacks off the 
nightstand.

Karen rushed over, her 
heart racing. She knew this was 
a meltdown, something they
had worked hard to avoid,
but she also knew that Plankton's 
boundaries had been crossed and
that he's trying to recover from
his wisdom teeth.

"Plankton, honey," she said 
soothingly, her hands reaching 
for his shoulders. "It's okay."
Her voice was steady, her eyes
filled with calm. Plankton's
antennas quivered as he looked
at her, his chest heaving with
deep, painful breaths. Chip
walked up. "Yeah, Dad. It's okay.."

But Plankton's antennae shot
back, knocking Chip's hand away.
"NO!" he shouted, his voice
high-pitched. "Don't touch me!"

Karen's eyes grew wide with
concern as she saw the raw
pain and anger in Plankton's
face. She knew this was
a meltdown, a direct result
of the overstimulation and
stress from the surgery, Chip's
curiosity, and the invasion
of his personal space.
"Chip, give your dad some room,"
she instructed calmly.
Chip stepped back, his heart
pounding.

Plankton's antennae
whipped around wildly.
He clenched his fists, the
tension palpable in the
air. He didn't understand
why his son was mimicking
his actions, didn't get why it
felt so wrong.

"Dad," Chip tried again,
his voice shaking. "I just
wanted to he-"

But Plankton's rage
was a storm, unyielding.
With a snarl, he hit the bed
with his hands. Karen's heart
pounded as she watched
from the sidelines, knowing
that any wrong move
could escalate the situation.

The room grew smaller,
his vision blurred. Plankton's
mind raced, unable to
comprehend why Chip
would do such a thing.
He felt invaded, his personal
space, his way of coping,
tainted by his son's
curiosity. He clenched
his fists, the urge to
lash out growing stronger.
The pain in his mouth was
competing with the
agony of feeling misunderstood.

With a roar, Plankton pushed
the bedside table, sending
it crashing to the floor.
Karen's eyes widened, her
heart racing, but she remained
still, knowing any sudden
movement could fuel the fire.

"Plankton, please," she said,
her voice calm but firm. "You're
scaring Chip." But her words
barely registered with him.
He was lost in his own world
of pain and misunderstanding.

"I'M NOT!" Plankton shouted.
"I'M NOT SCARED OF HIM!
I'M NOT CHIP'S CHILD!"
Plankton bellowed. Chip
swallowed hard, his body
trembling. He had never seen
his father like this, Plankton's
breaths coming in heavy
gasps.

Karen stepped closer, her
movements slow and calculated.
"Plankton," she said, her
voice firm yet gentle. "Look at
me. Look at me, darling."
Plankton's antennae slowed
their frantic movements,
his eye focusing on her.

"You're not Chip's child,"
she said calmly. "You're my
husband, and Chip's father.
You're Plankton, and you're
autistic. Your stims are a part
of autism, but they're not for
anyone else to take or
mimic. It's okay to be upset.
But you need to breathe."

Plankton's antennae
stilled slightly at her
words, his eye focusing on
her face. He took a deep
breath, his chest
expanding with the effort.
He knew Karen understood,
that she had always been
his anchor.

Chip watched, his heart
pounding in his chest. He
wished he could take it all
back, make it right again.
He had only wanted to
connect with his dad, to show
that he cared, but instead,
he had hurt him.

Plankton took another deep
breath, his antennae
twitching slightly. Karen's
cleaned up the mess.
"I'm sorry, Karen," he murmured,
his voice low. "It's just...it's
just that...I don't...I don't like
it when people do that."

Karen's eyes were filled
with understanding.
"I know, sweetie," she said.
"And we're sorry for making
you feel that way." She looked
at Chip, her gaze firm. "Chip,
you need to respect your dad's
boundaries. Just because
you see something and think
it's ok to copy doesn't mean
it is." Chip's face fell, his eyes
welling up with tears. "But I just
wanted to help," he murmured.

Karen's gaze softened. "I know
you did, Chip," she said gently.
"But sometimes, helping means
knowing when to step back
or let someone else handle
things." She turned to Plankton,
her voice still firm but filled
with love. "And you, Plankton,
you need to tell us when
you're feeling overwhelmed."
Plankton's antennae drooped, his
expression one of regret.
"I'll try," he murmured.

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 19
The room grew quiet, the
tension slowly dissipating.
Karen moved to sit beside
Plankton on the bed, her arm
wrapped around him.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Chip
whispered, his voice shaky.
He felt a heavy weight in
his chest, knowing he had
unintentionally hurt his dad.
Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, his gaze focusing
on the floor. He didn't respond
to Chip, but his antenna twitched
at the apology.

After a moment of
silence, Plankton's voice grew
softer, his words barely
above a whisper. "Why do I do
this?" he murmured to himself,
self-soothing, his voice echoing
his thoughts. "It's just...it's
just me, being me."

Karen's grip on his shoulder
tightened, her eyes filled with
understanding. She knew
his autism made certain
situations unbearable, and that
his stims were his way of
navigating the overwhelming
world around him. "It's okay,
Plankton," she whispered.
"You're okay."

Chip watched, his eyes
brimming with tears. He had
witnessed his dad's pain, the
flailing antennae and clenched
fists, and felt a pang of regret.
He had crossed a line without
knowing it was there.

Plankton's hand began to move
again, the repetitive motion
of his stim. It was a gentle
rocking now, back and forth.
His antennae had stilled, his gaze
firmly on the floor. The room
was thick with emotion, the air
charged with the unspoken.

Karen watched him, her
heart aching. She knew that
stimming was his way to
self-soothe, to find calm in
a world that often didn't make
sense. She reached for his
hand, her touch light and
reassuring. "You're okay,
Plankton," she murmured. "We're
here for you."

Chip stared at his dad,
his heart racing. He had never
seen him so upset, so lost.
He took a step closer to the
bed, his eyes never leaving
Plankton's. "I'm sorry, Dad,"
he said softly. "I didn't mean
to make yo-"

Plankton's antennae shot
up, his eye snapping to Chip's
face. "Don't," he murmured. "Just
don't." His voice was tight,
his body still tense.

Chip nodded, his eyes
brimming with tears. He knew
his dad needed space, but
his heart was heavy with
the desire to bridge the gap
between them. He took a step
back, his gaze dropping to the
floor. "Okay," he whispered.
"Okay."

Karen looked at Chip, her
face a mix of sadness and
understanding. She knew that
his intentions were pure, but
his actions had unintentionally
caused pain. "Chip," she began,
"let's go to the kitchen and
see what soft foods we have."

Her voice was gentle, a clear
sign that she wanted to give
Plankton some space. Chip
nodded, his eyes never leaving
his father's. Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly as he watched
them leave, the door closing
softly behind them.

In the kitchen, Chip hovered nearby,
his hands fidgeting. "Mom," he
began, his voice tentative.
"I didn't mean to...to make him
upset." Karen's eyes
meet Chip's. "I know you
didn't, sweetheart," she said,
her voice gentle. "But your dad's
autism can make things
complicated."

"It's just...I wanted to
connect," Chip murmured.
"I thought if I did what he
does, he'd see that I get it."
Karen's eyes searched his
face, understanding etched
deep in her gaze. "Chip," she
said, her voice soft. "You can't
experience the world the way
your father does. His stims are
his language, his way to deal
with overstimulation. They're
not for us to imitate."

Chip nodded, his throat
tight. "But I just want to
make him feel better," he said,
his voice thick with emotion.

Karen sighed, her eyes
meeting her son's. "I know
you do," she said. "But you
have to respect his boundaries,
his way of dealing with things.
It's not about you connecting
or not connecting; it's about
supporting him in the way
he needs it." She paused, her
gaze thoughtful. "Why don't you
ask him how you can help?"

Chip nodded slowly, his
thoughts racing. He knew his
mom was right, but it was
so hard to see his dad in
pain and not do anything.
But he also knew that Plankton
wasn't just his dad; he was an
autistic individual with
his own unique experiences
and needs. He took a deep
breath, steeling himself for
the conversation to come.

He returned to the bedroom,
his eyes on the floor. "Dad?"
Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly. "Can we talk?"
Plankton's hand stopped
stimming, his eye looking up
at Chip. "What about?" he asked,
his voice guarded.

Chip took a deep breath,
his eyes meeting Plankton's.
"I'm sorry for mimicking
your stim," he said, his voice
quiet. "I didn't think
how it made you feel, and I
see now that it wa-"

"Why'd you do it?" Plankton
interrupted, his antennae
stiff with tension. "What's so
fascinating about it?"

Chip swallowed, his hands
shaking slightly. "I just...I
wanted to help you," he
managed to get out. "To know
what it feels like for
you, to share in-"

"It's not for sharing!"
Plankton's antennae shot up.
"It's for ME!" The words
echoed through the room,
his voice tight. He turned onto
his side facing away from Chip.

But Chip didn't stop there. 
He approached the bed, 
his steps cautious, eyes 
on Plankton's tense back.
Chip's hand hovered over
his father's shoulder before
he thought better of it.

"Dad?" he said, his voice 
tentative. Plankton's
body remained rigid 
his eye glazed over now.
Chip's gaze landed on
his father's unblinking
eye.

A sudden realization
hit him like a wave. "Oh no,"
he murmured, his hand
flying to his mouth. "It's
a seizure, isn't it?" This was
the first time he'd recognized
one without being told, where
Plankton just zones out for a 
bit. But now what? Plankton
didn't respond, his body
completely still except for the
slight rise and fall of his
chest.

Chip's heart raced as he
recalled his mom saying
to tell her whenever he
sees something like this.

He bolted out of the room,
his footsteps echoing in the
hallway as he called for
his mom. "Mom! Mom, come
quick!" His voice was
laced with fear.

Karen rushed in, her eyes
wide with concern. She took
one look at Plankton, his
body unnaturally still, his
eye unblinking, and she knew.
"It's okay, Chip," she said,
her voice calm despite the
panic rising within her. "It's
just a seizure. He'll be okay."

Chip's eyes searched hers,
desperate for reassurance.
"But what do we do?" he
asked, his voice shaking.
Karen's hand found his,
squeezing gently. "We wait,"
she murmured. "We stay with
him, and we wait."

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 21
Chip took a step
back, his eyes still on the
floor. He felt a heavy
weight in his chest, a
mixture of sadness and
determination. He knew he
had made a mistake, but
he was also aware that this
could be a chance for him to
learn and show his dad that
he truly cared.

Karen sat beside
Plankton, her hand resting
on his shoulder. "Why don't
you tell us what you need
right now?" she asked softly.
Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly. "I need...I need to
be al-"

"Alone?" Chip filled in,
his voice gentle. "But 
Dad, we want to be here
for you. I won't le-"

Plankton's antennae
whipped around, his eye
narrowing. "Oh, I know,"
he said, his voice thick with
sarcasm. "Because you're just
so good at understanding,
right?" His tone was biting, a
sharp contrast to the usual
softness in his voice.

Chip flinched at the
harshness, his own feelings
of inadequacy rising to the
surface. "Dad, I'm tr-"

But Plankton continued,
his words coming out in a
rush. "You think you know,
but you don't. You don't know
what it's like to have
the world crash down on
you every minute of every
day, to be bombarded with
sounds and smells that are too
much, too intense." His antennae
twitched erratically. "And then
you come in with your 'let's
talk about it' and 'let me
see' and 'let me do it with
you' and you think that's
going to fix me?"

The sarcasm in his voice
was palpable, his antennae
drooping with frustration.
"You think I want to be a
science project for you to
study?" Plankton's eyes
were bright with unshed tears.
"I'm not broken, Chip. I'm just
different. And any stims,
they're not for you to copy
or understand or even
acknowledge. They're mine,
SOLELY mine!"

Karen watched the exchange
unfold, her heart aching for
both her husband and son.
Plankton was hurting, and
his defensiveness was a clear
sign of it. She knew his stims
were a private, sacred part
of who he was, and she 
saw Chip's desire to bridge
the gap. But she knew when
Plankton was like this, that it
was time to let him be.

"Why don't you go to your
room, Chip?" she suggested
gently. "Let your dad have
some space."

Chip nodded, his eyes
brimming with tears. He
couldn't bear to see his dad
in pain, but he knew that pushing
would only make things worse.
With a heavy heart, he
turned and walked out of the
room, his feet feeling like
lead. Karen watched him go,
her gaze then shifting back
to Plankton.

Plankton's antennae
still twitched. Karen
moved closer to him. "It's ok,
sweetie," she murmured. "I'm
here." He leaned into her touch,
his body slowly relaxing.
Her words were a balm, 
soothing his raw nerves.

A week after Plankton's
completely healed from
wisdom teeth, he no
longer having mouth
discomfort. One evening
Karen hangs up her phone
from her friend Hanna. She
lives far away, and they'll
take a trip to stay and visit
with her. Neither Plankton
nor Chip met Hanna before.
Hanna knows Karen's married
to Plankton, but she doesn't
know about his autism.

Karen breaks the news
gently. "Boys," she says,
"We're visiting Hanna tomorrow.
It's gonna be a day long drive
and we need to pack. We'll
be staying at her place!"

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye darting around
the room as he processes
this sudden change of plans.
The thought of traveling, of
new smells and sounds, sends
a shiver of anxiety through
his body. "Now?" he asks, his
voice tight. "But we...I need
to prepare."

Karen nods, her voice
soothing. "We'll leave early,
so we have time to get
everything ready." She
moves closer to him, her hand
on his shoulder. "We'll pack
together."

Plankton takes a deep
breath, his antennae
twitching with the effort to
calm down. "Okay," he says.
"Okay."

He starts to pack, his
movements methodical.
Everything has its place,
his suitcase organized with
precision. Karen and Chip
watch, knowing better than
to interrupt. They've learned
that when Plankton's in this
mode, it's best to let him
be. Karen also gets the
special sensory bag for
Plankton. His fidget
toys and noise-canceling 
blindfold curtains are
carefully placed in the bag.

Chip decides to pack
some favorite science
books as Karen observes
them, her heart swelling with
pride and hope. Chip's come
so far in understanding
of Plankton's needs, not to
mention their shared love
for scientific trivia.

Plankton, noticing Chip's
packing, approaches with
more books for their trip.
"Here," he says, his voice
slightly less tense.

The next morning, Karen
gets up early. They'll spend
most of the day on the road
and wanted to get a good
head start. So she wakes
Chip up first.

"Chip," she whispers,
shaking him gently. "Time to
get going for our trip."
Chip opens his eyes, sleepy
but excited. He jumps
out of bed, eager to start
the day. Plankton, on the
other hand, is still asleep.
Karen approaches his
side, her gaze soft. She
knows waking him up
can be tough, especially
with his sensory issues.

Gently, she places her
hand on his shoulder.
"Plankton," she whispers,
keeping her voice low
and even. "Wake up,
sweetie. We're leaving
for Hanna's soon."

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly at the touch,
his eye fluttering open.
"We're leaving soon,"
Karen repeats.
He nods, his body
still stiff with sleep. She
moves to the side, giving
him space to sit up.

Karen's going to drive
and has Plankton's
sensory bag in the front
seat by her, so Plankton
sits with Chip in the back.

new to see or not to see chip plankton hanna

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 22
As they start the car
and the engine rumbles
to life, Plankton's hand starts to
move in a repetitive
motion, his thumb and
forefinger tapping against
each other. It's a stim. 
Karen's eyes meet
Chip's, and she gives a small
nod. "Remember, buddy,"
she says over her shoulder.
"Just let him be."
Chip nods, his eyes
going back to his dad.

Plankton's gaze is fixed
on the passing scenery. 
Chip watches, his 
curiosity piqued but his 
respect for boundaries
keen. He's learned so much
about his dad's autism in
the past weeks, but he
knows there's still so much
more to understand.

The car's hum is a 
comforting white noise,
and Chip can see the
tension slowly draining
from his father's body.

Plankton's eye darts to
the side, watching the
trees blur by. Chip
follows his gaze, seeing
the world. "Dad," he says
softly. "Can we see the
science book together?"
He holds it up, the one
his dad had packed. Plankton's
stimming pauses. He
considers it, his antennae
twitching. "Okay," he finally
says, his voice a little
softer.

They spend time
in quiet companionship,
their heads bent over the
pages, silently reading facts.
Chip feels a warmth in his
chest, a feeling of
connection growing stronger
with each page turned.

The car's steady motion
combined with the gentle hum
of the engine begins to
lull Plankton into a drowsy
state. His antennae droop slightly,
his eye blinking slower, and
his breathing deepens.

Karen glances in the
rearview mirror, a smile
touching her lips. She knows
this look well. Plankton's
autism often made him
sensitive to the world, but
now, with the familiar routine
of the road trip and the soothing
environment they've created,
his body was finally letting
go of the tension as Plankton's eye
begins to drift shut.

Chip felt his dad's weight
shifting against him, his head
coming to rest on his
shoulder.

The steady rhythm of the
car's motion was a gentle
lullaby to Plankton's overstimulated
brain. His hand, which had
been tapping out a steady
rhythm, stilled. His antennae
drooped low, his eye fluttering
closed. Chip watched him, his
heart swelling with a mix
of love and sadness. It was
rare to see Plankton so relaxed,
his usual stoic exterior giving
way to vulnerability.

Karen kept her eyes on
the road, a soft smile playing
on her lips. She knew this was
a victory, a sign that their
efforts to create a safe
space for Plankton were working.
The trip was going better than
she had dared hope.

Chip felt a gentle pressure
against his arm as Plankton's
head grew heavier. He
adjusted his position,
careful not to disturb his
dad. The book lay forgotten
between them, their silent
bond stronger than words.
He watched as his dad's
breathing grew deep and
even, his antennae finally
still.

Karen glanced back again,
her smile growing wider.
"Looks like we've got a
snoozing scientist," she
whispered, hearing Plankton's
gentle snores. Chip grinned,
his own worries slipping
away as he felt his dad's
body relax against him.

The road ahead was long,
but the car was filled with a
newfound peace. Plankton's
snores grew softer as the
miles ticked by.

When they finally pulled up
to Hanna's house, Plankton
remained asleep, his body
relaxed against Chip's side.
Karen turned to look at
them, her heart full. "Looks
like he had a good nap,"
she murmured to Chip.

Chip nodded, smiling down
at his dad. "Yeah," he whispered.
"I'm gonna miss this when
we get out of the car. How are
we gonna tell him we're here?"

Karen chuckled softly. "We'll
just have to wake him up
gently, buddy." She opened
her door, the crunch of gravel
underfoot. The cool evening
air was a stark contrast
to the warmth of the car, and
Plankton's antenna twitched as
his eyebrow furrowed.

"Hey, Plankton," Karen 
said softly, gently 
shaking him as she
closes her car door. 
"We're here, sweetie."

Plankton's eye snapped
open, his antennae 
springing to life. For a
moment, confusion 
clouded his gaze before
it cleared, and he sat
up with a jolt. "Oh,"
he murmured, looking
around. "Hanna's?"

Chip nodded, his
smile gentle. "Yeah.
We're here." Plankton
realized he'd fallen
asleep not only in front
of Chip, but also leaning
on him. Embarrassment
flitted across his face,
and he quickly sat up as
he pulled away. Karen got
their suitcases and Plankton's
sensory bag in her grasp.

The front door opened, and
Hanna's bubbly figure emerged,
lighting up at the sight of Karen.

"Karen!" she exclaimed,
rushing forward to give her
a warm hug. "It's been so
long! And is this your family?"
Hanna asks as she let them in,
closing the front door behind.

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his eye wide as he took in the
unfamiliar surroundings. The sight
of a different house, the sound
of Hanna's excited voice, it was
all to much.

Karen nods. "Yes, my 
husband, Plankton, 
and our son, Chip."

Hanna's smile broadens as
she embraces Plankton in
a tight hug. "So nice to finally
meet you," she says, her eyes
shining with excitement.

Plankton's antennae flatten
against his head, the sudden
contact overwhelming. He
swallows hard, his body
stiffening. "Nice t-to meet
y-you t—too," he mumbles,
his eye darting to Karen
for rescue. Karen laughs lightly,
gently extricating Plankton
from Hanna's enthusiastic
embrace. "Why don't we get
settled?" she suggests,
guiding Plankton to the couch.

"And you're quite the
young man!" Hanna
exclaims to Chip. "Hi
Ms. Hanna," Chip says.

new to see or not to see chip plankton hanna

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 24
"Coko, coo," Plankton murmurs, his eye
unfocused, his antennae
quivering slightly. Karen
squeezes his hand tighter,
trying to ground him.
"Remember, we're at Hanna's."

Chip's eyes widen, hearing
his dad's strange speech.
"What's coko?" he whispers
to his mom. Karen smiles
softly. "It's okay, Chip.
Sometimes during a seizure,
his speech gets...scrambled."

Plankton's hand reaches
out, searching for something
to anchor him. "Go,"
he says. "The...the...
the...what's called?"
He's trying to find
the words. "The...cow," he says 
decidedly. "Cow?" Plankton
giggles, repeating himself. "Cow!"

"It's okay, Plankton," Karen
says gently. "You're just
trying to find your words."

Chip watches, his eyes
filled with confusion.
"But why is he talking
like that?" he asks,
his voice low.

Karen's eyes are filled
with compassion as
she explains. "It's part
of the seizure, Chip.
His brain is firing differently,
mixing things up."

Plankton's giggle turns
into a full laugh, his
body shaking slightly.
"Cow," he repeats,
his voice louder now.

Karen and Chip exchange
a concerned look, but Karen
smiles gently, knowing
this phase can pass quickly.
"Remember, Plankton,
we're at Hanna's. You're okay."

Plankton nods, his laugh
fading into a smile as
his gaze locks onto the
spinning ceiling fan. "Fan,"
he murmurs, his hand moving
to mimic its motion. "Fan-ny
fanny fan." Karen knows he's
trying to make sense of the
world again, and she's here to
help guide him back.

"That's right," she says,
keeping her voice steady. "It's
a fan." Chip watches,
his curiosity piqued but
his concern foremost. He's
knew not to laugh at his
dad's strange speech, but it's
hard not to find some humor
in the absurdity of the moment.

"Fan-ny," Plankton repeats,
his voice taking on a sing-song
quality. "The cow, says meow."

Karen chuckles, her heart
warming at the nonsensical
sentences. It's a sign
his brain is trying to
reconnect, to make sense of
the world again. "No, Plankton,"
she corrects gently. "The fan
doesn't say meow. It's ju—"

But she's interrupted by
Hanna, who comes in to
check on them. "Hey guys!
So, what's the plan for movie night?"
Her cheerfulness is a stark
contrast to the scene she's
walked in on. Plankton's
laughter grows louder, his
eye glazed over.

Hanna's smile falters, her
eyes wide with worry.
"Is he okay?" she asks,
stepping closer, confused.
Karen knew Plankton's
not gonna want Hanna
to find out about his
autistic neurodisability.
"It's just something he
does," Karen says quickly,
as Plankton starts to crawl.
"He'll be fine in a bit."

Hanna watches as
drool starts to dribble
from the corner of Plankton's
mouth. "What's happening?"
she asks, her voice laced
with concern. "It's like he's
in a dream state, or someth-"

Her words are drowned
out by Plankton's chuckle,
his body wriggling on the
floor. "Cow!" he exclaims.
Karen knew he's gonna
come out of it soon, and
she didn't want Hanna to
be in his personal space
right now. "Why don't we give
a bit more time?"
she suggests, her tone
remaining calm. "We'll be
ready for movies soon."

Hanna nods, her smile
forced. "Okay," she says,
backing out of the room.
The door closes, leaving
them in privacy. Karen's heart
thuds in her chest. She's
seen this a hundred times,
but it never gets easier.

Plankton's eye blinks
slowly, his antennae
still. The room seems to
come back into focus,
the colors slowly solidifying
from the blur they had
been. "Karen?" he whispers,
his voice hoarse.

"I'm here," she says, her
voice a comforting
presence in the room.
"You had a seizure, but
you're okay now."

Plankton's eye widens,
his antennae shooting up.
"Oh," he murmurs, his
voice distant. He looks
around the room, taking
in the familiar yet foreign
surroundings of Hanna's
guest room. "What...were
we talking? I feel like I was
but I...I can't remember."

Karen's hand is still
clasped in his, her thumb
continuing to rub his skin
in a soothing pattern. "You
were talking about a cow,"
she says with a small smile.
"But it's okay. You're okay."

Plankton's antennae droop
slightly, his cheeks coloring
with embarrassment. "A cow?"
He repeats, his voice
still weak. "Did I... did
I say anything else? And
why the barnacles am I on the
floor?"

Karen laughs, her eyes
twinkling with affection. "You
got a bit overwhelmed,"
she says, her voice gentle.
"But you're okay now."

Plankton nods, his antennae
slowly rising. "I'm sorry,"
he whispers. "I didn't mean to-"

Karen shakes her head, her
smile warm. "Don't apologize,
Plankton. It's just part of
who you are." She helps
him to his feet, her arms
supporting him. "Let's get
you cleaned up."

Chip watches, his heart
still racing. He's seen
his dad like this before,
but it never gets easier. He
wants to help, but he's
learned that sometimes, the
best thing to do is just be
present.

Karen leads Plankton to
the bathroom, her arm
around his waist, his hand
in hers. "Let's get you
cleaned up," she says,
guiding him gently.

The cool water feels good
on his face, the sensation
helping to ground him. Karen
wipes his mouth with
a washcloth, her movements
careful and precise.
He leans into her touch,
his body craving the
predictability. "Thank
you," he murmurs.
Karen hands him a towel,
her gaze understanding.
"You're welcome," she says.
"Remember, Plankton,
you're not alone in this."

Karen leads Plankton
and Chip to the living
room where Hanna's
waiting for them.

"Are you okay?" Hanna
asks, her eyes filled with
concern. Plankton nods,
his antennae twitching.
"Of course," he says
matter-of-factly. "Why
wouldn't I be?"

Hanna's gaze lingers on
his still-flushed cheeks,
his slightly unfocused
eye. "You just...you
seemed out of it," she
says, her voice tentative.
Plankton's antennae quiver,
his mind racing. "What are
you talking about?" He asks
Hanna, glaring at her.

"You know, when you were
laughing and talking about
cows," Hanna says, her eyes
still wide with concern. "And
drooling a bit." Plankton's
face reddens, his antennae
springing up.

Karen jumps in, her
voice calm. "It's just a little
quirk, Hanna," she says with
a smile. "He's fine. Now,
about that movie night?"
Hanna nods, her expression
still slightly puzzled,
but she lets it go. "Right!
Let's get cozy!" She says,
clapping her hands together.

Plankton sits back down
on the couch, his antennae
twitching as he tries to
regain his composure.
He knows he can't let his
condition define him, but
sometimes it's so hard to
keep up the façade. He's
grateful for Karen's quick
thinking, for Chip's quiet
support.

Hanna starts setting
up the board games, her
energy seemingly boundless.
Plankton's eye flits around
the room, taking in the
colors and the clutter.
He can feel his anxiety
building, his thoughts racing.
But he takes a deep breath.

"Do you want to play?"
Hanna asks, her smile wide.
"Sure," Plankton responds,
his voice steady despite
his inner turmoil. Chip
and Karen knew of his 
competitive spirit..

The game starts, and
Plankton's stims return. 
His fingers move over 
the armrest. "What's with 
your hands?" Hanna asks,
watching Plankton's hand
move. "It's okay, Hanna,"
Karen jumps in, her tone
calm. "It's just something
he does." She doesn't
elaborate further, not wanting
to make a big deal of it.
But Hanna's curiosity is
piqued. She's never seen
anyone act like this before.

Plankton's eye darts
to his hand, his antennae
twitching. He feels the
weight of Hanna's gaze,
his cheeks flushing. Karen
squeezes his hand, her
silent support reassuring.

Hanna's eyes wander from
the game to Plankton's
hands, then back to her
cards. She's curious.

Plankton feels the heat
of her gaze, his stims
intensifying. He tries
to ignore it, focusing on
the game. But every time
he glances up, her eyes
are on him, watching his
hands move, her brow
furrowed. It's unnerving,
but her curiosity doesn't
wane.

"So, what's the deal with
the hand thing?" Hanna asks
finally, unable to hold back.
Plankton's antennae snap
straight up, his hand stalling
mid-stim. "What hand
thing?" he says, his voice
sharp. Karen's grip on his
hand tightens, a silent warning.

Hanna's eyes widen at
his tone. "I just meant,
why do you...you know,
move your hands like that?
What does it do for yo-"
"It's none of your concern!"
Plankton snaps, his antennae
waving agitatedly.

Karen's eyes dart
between Hanna's shocked
expression and Plankton's
flushed face. She can feel
the tension in the room
spike. "Plankton, maybe
we should-"

But Plankton cuts her
off, his voice rising. "I don't
have to explain myself to
her!" He says, his antennae
waving wildly. Chip's heart
sinks. He's seen his dad
like this before, but it's
always different, always
worse when it's in front
of someone new.

Hanna's face falls, her smile
replaced with hurt. "I'm just
trying to understand,"
she says, her voice small.
"I didn't mea-"

But Plankton's not
listening. "It's none of
your business," he repeats,
his voice cold. Karen's heart
sinks. She knew this was
going to happen, that
Plankton's stress would
boil over into something
unpleasant.

"Plankton," she starts, but
he shakes his head, his
eye focused on the game
now. "I don't owe anyone
explanations," he says,
his hand resuming its
erratic movements.

Hanna's eyes fill with
unshed tears, her cheeks
flushing with embarrassment.
"I didn't mean to-"

But Plankton's attention
is fully on the game, his
stims more pronounced than
ever. Karen sighs, her
heart aching for both Hanna
and Plankton. She knows
his behavior isn't intentional,
but it's still painful to watch. 

new to see or not to see chip plankton hanna

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 20
Karen had seen this before,
but it never failed to
fill her with a deep ache.
She sat beside Plankton,
her hand on his back, her gaze
on his unblinking eye. She had
learned to recognize the signs,
the subtle cues that signaled
his retreat into himself. This
was a common occurrence. But it
never got easier.

Chip hovered nearby, his
body tense with worry.
He had never seen his
dad like this before, not
really. The way his body
went stiff, his antennae
quivered, and his eye glazed
over. It was like watching
someone slip away. "How long
does it last?" he whispered,
his voice shaking.

Karen's grip on his hand
tightened. "It varies,"
she said. "Just try
talking to him. It helps to
keep him anchored."

Chip's throat felt dry, his
voice trembling as he leaned
closer to Plankton.

"Dad?" he whispered, his
heart racing. Plankton's body
remained eerily still, his eye
unblinking. Chip's mind
raced with thoughts, trying to
think of anything to say that
might bring him back.

"You know, Dad, I've been
thinking," he began, his voice
shaky. "I know you don't like
it when I talk about your
stims, but I just...I just want
you to know that I think
they're cool. They're part of
what makes you, you. And I
promise, I won't mimic them
again. It's not my place to
understand without asking
you first."

Karen watched with a
heavy heart as Chip spoke.
Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, the tension in
his body not fully receding.
"I just want to help," Chip
continued, his voice cracking.
"I want to be there for you
the way you're always there
for me."

As the words hung in
the air, Plankton's eye
slowly blinked. The seizure
was passing, the world
reassembling before him. He
turned up to look at Chip, his
expression confused. "What's
going on?" he mumbled.

Karen felt relief flood
through her as she realized
the seizure had passed.
"Chip," she whispered, her
voice thick with emotion.
"That was a beautiful
thing you just did."
Plankton's antennae
twitched at that, his eye
coming back to focus.
He looked at them, his gaze
confused. "What happened?"

Chip took a deep
breath, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's. "I just
wanted to tell you that
I'm sorry, Dad," he said.
"And that I'll respect your
space and your stims. They're
a part of you, and I won't
invade that again."
Plankton's antennae
drooped slightly.

Karen watched, her eyes
shimmering with unshed tears.
This was a pivotal moment,
a chance for understanding
and growth within their
family. "That's right, Chip,"
she said softly. "It's about
respect and love."

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his gaze moving
between Chip and Karen.
He didn't know how to
process the emotions
swirling within him. He
was used to being the
rock, the one who provided
comfort and support, not the
one receiving it from Chip!
Yet he heard the sincerity
in his son's voice. "I...I
see that," Plankton managed.

Chip's eyes searched his
father's face, looking for
any sign of forgiveness.
"Dad, I didn't know," he
whispered. "I just wanted
to be close to you."
Plankton's antennae
twitched again, his mind
racing. He had never talked
about his autism with
Chip like this, had never
explained the intricacies
of his stims and seizures.
It was a vulnerable place
to be. "Chip, it's not for you
to understand by doing."
He paused, his antennae
drooping. "It's just...
I dunno."

Karen watched the two, her
heart aching. She knew this
was hard for Plankton, to
explain the unexplainable.
"What your dad means,"
she said gently, "is that
his stims are personal.
They're his way to handle
things. It's like when you
have a bad day and you
need to be alone. We all
have our ways of dealing,
right?"

Chip nodded slowly, his
eyes never leaving Plankton's.
He could see the turmoil
in his dad's gaze, the
desire to be understood
battling with the fear of
being misunderstood. "Yeah,"
he murmured.

Plankton took a deep
breath, his antennae
stilling. "You're my son,"
he said, his voice hoarse. "I
want you to understand."
He looked away, his antennae
drooping. "But it's hard."

Chip nodded, feeling a
wave of empathy wash
over him. "I know it is," he said,
his voice gentle. "But we're
here to learn with you."
Karen's eyes glistened with
pride. Her son was growing up,
understanding that empathy
wasn't about fixing, but about
being present and respectful.

"Let's talk," she suggested,
sitting beside Chip on the
bed. "Let's talk about your
stims, Plankton. Maybe if
Chip knows more, he ca---"

But Plankton cut her off,
his antennae twitching with
agitation. "I don't want to
talk about it," he said, his
voice tight. "It's personal."

The room was suffocatingly
silent, the tension palpable.
Karen and Chip exchanged
glances, both unsure of
how to navigate this delicate
moment. Chip's heart pounded
as he tried to find the right
words. He didn't want to push
his dad, but he desperately
wanted to connect, to show
that he cared.

He took a deep breath,
his hand hovering over
Plankton's arm before stopping
mid-air. "Dad," he began,
his voice trembling. "Can you
teach me about your st-"

"NO!" Plankton's voice
was sharp, cutting through
the air like a knife. His antennae
whipped around, his body
tense with emotion. "It's
not a show, Chip. It's not
for you to see and learn."

Chip's hand fell to his
side, his eyes wide with
surprise. He had never
seen his dad so agitated.
But he knew he had to tread
carefully, to respect
his boundaries. "I'm sorry,
Dad," he murmured. "I just
wanted to kno—"

"I know what you want,"
Plankton said. "They're not
for you to analyze or learn
from like a trick."

Chip felt the sting of
his dad's words, but he knew
he had to back off. He took
a step back, his eyes
firmly on the floor. "Okay, Dad,"
he murmured. "I get it."

Karen watched the
exchange, her heart
heavy. She knew Plankton's
frustration all too well.
It was hard for him to articulate
his needs, especially when
his stims were so deeply
personal. "Plankton," she said
softly. "Chip wants to support
you, not to make you feel
uncomfortable."

Plankton's antennae
stilled, his eye focusing on
his wife's face. He knew she
was right, that Chip's curiosity
was born from love, not a
desire to control or change
his behavior. "I know," he murmured.
"But it's just...it's just that..."

He struggled to find the
right words to explain the
swirl of emotions inside him.
His stims were his lifeline, a
way to cope with the sensory
overload that often left him
exhausted and overwhelmed. "I just
need space," he finally managed.

Karen's gaze was filled
with empathy as she nodded.
"Okay, Plankton," she said
gently. "We'll give you
space. But know we're here
for you."

new to see or not to see chip plankton space

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 25
Hanna's voice is barely
above a whisper. "I'm sorry,"
she says, looking down at her
hands. "I didn't mean to-"
But Plankton's focus is solely
on the pieces on the board.
"Don't talk to me," he says, his
voice cold. "You're the one
asking personal questions."

Karen's heart clenches,
wanting to explain, but knowing
that Plankton's current state
of mind won't allow for it.
"Let's just keep playing,"
she suggests, her voice a gentle
nudge. But the damage is done.
Hanna's smile is forced, her eyes
glistening with unshed tears.

The game continues in
an awkward silence, Hanna's
laughter a bit too loud,
her movements a bit too
quick. Plankton's stims don't
ease, his hands fidgeting
almost angrily on the armrest.
Chip watches, his stomach in
knots. He knows his dad's
behavior is because of his
condition, but it's hard to see
his mom's friend hurt like this.

Hanna's eyes keep
darting to Plankton's
hands, confusion and hurt
swirling in her gaze. "I'm sorry,"
she murmurs again, her voice
barely audible over the clanking
of game pieces. "I di-"

Plankton's antennae swivel
sharply towards her. "What
part of 'none of your business'
don't you understand?"
his voice is harsh, his
frustration palpable. Hanna
flinches, her hands tightening
around her cards.

Karen's eyes plead with
Plankton to stop, but he's
too lost in his own world,
his senses on high alert. "Why
are you always in my space?"
He snaps, his voice echoing
around the room. Chip's stomach
twists with anxiety.

Hanna's cheeks redden, her
eyes filling with tears. "I'm
sorry," she says, her voice
smaller than ever. "I just-"
But Plankton's done talking.

With a roar of frustration,
he's knocking over
the game board. The pieces
scatter everywhere, a visual
representation of their
shattered evening.

Hanna gasps, her eyes
wide with shock. "What's
going on?" she asks,
but Plankton's already
storming out of the room.
Karen's heart sinks as
she watches her husband
disappear down the hall.
She knew this was a risk
bringing him to Hanna's,
but she had hoped for
a better outcome.

The guest room 
door slams shut,
the sound echoing 
through Hanna's house.
Chip feels a knot
tighten in his stomach.
He knows that look,
his dad's retreat to 
his sanctuary of solitude.

"I'm sorry," Hanna tells Karen,
picking up the pieces of the
game. "I didn't mean to-"

Karen's eyes are filled with
sorrow as she shakes her head.
"It's not you," she says gently.
"It's just part of his condition."
Her voice is tight, her smile
forced as she tries to explain.
"When Plankton was being
born, something happened.
It changed him. Pressure,
lack of flow... we're not
sure. But what we do know
is that it left him with a type
of autism." She pauses.
"He's had it his whole life. It's a
balancing act," she admits.
"Some days are better than
others. But we've learned to
read the signs, to give him
the space he needs. It was
when his mother was giving birth,
his brain developed differently
because of the stress it faced.
It's not something anyone
could have predicted."

Hanna nods, her eyes still
on the closed door. "I had
no idea," she murmurs,
feeling guilty for her
intrusion. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," Karen says, her voice
soft and reassuring. "It's
not something that's obvious,
unless you know what to look for."

Hanna nods, her eyes filling
with understanding. "How
does it affect him?" she asks,
placing the game pieces aside.
Karen sighs. "It's complex,"
she says. "His brain processes
information differently,
which means certain
things can be overwhelming
for him. Lights, sounds,
even textures can be too much.
And sometimes, it's just the
way people interact with him."

Chip speaks up, his voice
small. "But he's super smart.
He can build anything."

Karen's smile is sad. "It's 
true. His mind is...unique.
But sometimes, it's like
he's trapped in there,
trying to get out."

Hanna nods. "What
can I do to help?" she asks,
her voice earnest. Karen's
heart swells with gratitude.
"Just be patient," she says.
"And respect his boundaries.
Don't push him to explain
things if he's not ready."
Chip watches as Karen
takes a deep breath. "And if
you see him getting overwhelmed,
just...give him some space."
Hanna nods, her eyes
still on the door.

Plankton sits in the
guest room, his back 
pressed against the 
corner.

The world feels too loud,
too bright, too much. He 
squeezes his eye shut,
his hands over his head,
his antennae tucked, his body
rocking slightly on the floor. He's
learned over the years that
this can help dull the world
around him, but it's
not enough tonight.

"Plankton?" Karen's voice
filters through the door,
soft and gentle. "Can I come in?"
There's no response, but
after a moment, the door
opens a crack. Plankton's
eye peeks out, his antennae
quivering. "It's okay," she says.
"I just want to check on you."

He nods, his body tense.
"I'm sorry," he says again,
his voice muffled. Karen's
heart breaks a little more.
"You don't have to be sorry,"
she says, entering the room.
"You know that." She sits
beside him on the floor. He's in full
shutdown mode now, his
body's way of coping with
the overstimulation. She
squeezes his hand gently.

The silence stretches out,
only broken by the distant
hum of the city. Karen
knows that Plankton needs
this, that he's retreated into
his own world to recharge.
Yet it's hard to watch,
knowing that she can't just
wave a magic wand and
make everything okay.

Slowly, she starts to speak,
her words deliberate and
soft. "Remember, Plankton,"
she says, "Hanna's just trying
to understand. She didn't
mean any harm."

Plankton's breathing
evens out, his body
unclenching slightly. "I know,"
he whispers. "It's just...hard."
Karen nods. "I know, love."

The room is dimly
lit, the sounds of the city
a distant lullaby. Plankton's
stims slow down, his antennae
unfurling slightly as his body
starts to relax. Karen's words
wash over him, a gentle reminder
that he's not alone. "You know,
it's okay to be different," she says.
"And it's okay for people
to be curious. But we'll
make sure to explain to Hanna."

Plankton's eye blinks
slowly, his head nodding in
agreement. He's so tired,
his mind racing from the
adrenaline and the sensory
overload. His body feels
heavy, his eyelid drooping.

Karen notices the change
and shifts closer to him. "Why
don't you lie down?" she suggests,
her voice a gentle whisper. "You
look ex-"

But Plankton's already
falling asleep, his body
sagging against hers. "Hey
c'mon Plankton, let's get
you up into the bed befo—"

His snores cut her off,
his antennae fluttering with
each breath. She chuckles
softly, her heart swelling
with love. He's always
been a light sleeper,
even when they first met.
Karen gently shifts him
so he's leaning against her,
his head resting on her shoulder.

His body relaxes into the
comfort of her embrace, his
stims ceasing completely.
It's moments like these that
make her heart ache, knowing
how much he struggles with
the world outside their
home. But she's also fiercely
proud of his resilience.

Karen's thumb rubs gentle
circles on his arm, the
rhythmic motion soothing.
Plankton's snores even out,
his breathing deepening. She
can feel the tension in his
body slowly dissipate,
his muscles loosening. She
kisses his cheek, her hand
still on his arm, her love
for him as constant as
his condition.

The room's dimness is a
comforting blanket, shielding
them from the brightness
that Plankton finds so jarring.
Karen's mind races with
thoughts of tomorrow, the
conversations she'll have
to navigate with Hanna.
But for now, she focuses
on the quiet breaths beside
her, the steady rise and fall
of Plankton's chest.

Hanna, peeking in from the
hallway, sees Karen cradling
Plankton's sleeping form.
Her eyes are filled with
compassion as she mouths
a silent apology to Karen. Karen
smiles slightly, shaking her
head, as if to say it's not
Hanna's fault.

The two women share
a knowing look, the weight
of the evening's events
heavy between them.
Karen's gaze lingers on
Plankton, her love for him
evident in every line of her
face. And she knows they'll be ok.

new to see or not to see chip plankton hanna

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 4

"Plankton, please," Karen
pleaded, reaching out to
touch his arm. "Let's ta—"

But Plankton's 
eye starts to
glaze over, his 
body trembling
on his bed. Karen
knew another
seizure's coming
on now. "Dad?" Chip's 
voice was filled with
fear and confusion.
"I'm here," Karen assured.
She rushed to his side.
"It's okay," she murmured,
her voice a gentle whisper.
"You're safe, Plankton."
She knew this was
part of the process, that
his mind was trying to
recalibrate, yet it never
got easier to watch.

The room grew
dimmer as Plankton's
seizure took hold, his
body stiffening, his 
eye rolling back.
Karen's eyes filled
with tears as she watched
his silent struggle.
"It's okay, baby," she
whispered.

Chip stood there, his
hands balled into fists at
his sides, feeling helpless.
He had never seen his
dad so vulnerable before.
The man he knew was
always in control, always
the smartest in the room,
was now at the mercy of
his own brain's whims. It
was something that his
parents had dealt with
for years, something that
he had only just become
a witness to.

Karen's eyes remained
on Plankton's contorted
face as the seizure's grip
began to loosen, his body
twitching slightly.

As the seizure
subsided, he's falling
into a semiconscious
postictal state. "Dad?" Chip's
voice's filled with fear.
Karen nodded, her gaze
still fixed on her husband.
"It's okay."

Plankton's antennae
twitched erratically,
his body moving in jerky
motions. It looked like
his mind was trying
to regain control of his
physical form.

He began to crawl
on the bed. His eye's
unfocused. "Hummus,"
Plankton babbled.

Karen's heart
ached as she watched
his regression. Plankton's
autism had always
been a part of their lives,
but these moments,
where he slipped into
his own world, were the
hardest to bear. She knew
he was in there, somewhere,
fighting to come back.

Plankton's eye darted
around the room without
really seeing. "Tos, sub."

Karen's heart broke a
little more as she
witnessed her husband's
descent into the child-like
state that often followed
his seizures. She knew
it was temporary, yet the
sight of this strong man
reduced to such vulnerability
was always jarring.

"Dad," Chip said tentatively,
his voice quivering with
fear and confusion. He had
never seen his dad like this
before—so lost, so dependent.

Karen's eyes remained
glued to Plankton's face,
silently willing him to come
back to them. "It's ok,
sweetheart," she murmured.

Plankton's movements
were like those of 
a baby discovering
the world anew, his 
hands playing with
the blankets as if they
were a toy. "Hamv," he 
murmured.

Karen's heart ached,
but she knew from
experience that this
was a phase that
would pass. She talked
to him softly, her voice
soothing and familiar,
like a lullaby. "You're
safe, Plankton," she
whispered. She got
a plush stuffed bear
handing it to Chip. "Try
to get him to interact
by this," she suggests.

Chip took the bear
tentatively, his hands
shaking slightly. He
approached the bed, his
dad's eyes still unfocused.
"Dad?" he whispered,
shaking the toy slightly.
Plankton's antennae
twitched, his eye
flitting towards the
bear. "Look, it's a toy,"
Chip said, his voice
quivering. "Do you like
it?"

Plankton's hand reached
out, his movements
sluggish as if swatting
the bear, his fingers
exploring its soft fur.
"Tibble," he murmured.

Karen watched, her heart
swelling with hope. This
was the first step back to
reality. "Good job,"
she said to both of 
them. "Keep it up, Chip.
Keep talking, with the bear."

Chip nodded, his voice
steadier now. "It's
a bear, Dad," he said, his
tone gentle. "See? It's got
a cute little nose. Do you
want to hold it?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched again, and
his hand reached out
slowly, his fingers
wrapping around the
plush toy. "Sav," he
says, his voice a
little stronger.

Karen's eyes lit up
with hope. "That's it,
sweetheart," she said,
encouraging Chip. "Keep
going."

Chip held the bear
closer to Plankton's
face. "Look, Dad," he
whispered, his voice
steady despite the fear
still lingering in his
heart. "It's smiling at you.
It's happy to see you. It
wants you to be happy
too. Do you want to play?"

Plankton's antennae
quivered, his eye focusing
on the toy for a moment.
He reached out again,
his hand shaking slightly,
and touched the bear's snout.
"Ivh," he murmured, a
ghost of a smile playing
across his lips, resulting in
drool.

Encouraged, Chip
continued. "It's smiling
because it loves you, Dad,"
he said, his voice cracking.
"See, it's happy because
you're holding it. Can you
make it dance?" "Da-dance,"
he managed to say, his smile
broadening.

Karen watched,
her eyes brimming with
tears of hope. "That's it,"
she whispered, her voice
barely audible. "Keep going."

Chip nodded, his
fingers gently moving
the bear's arms and
legs in a makeshift dance.
"Look, Dad, the bear is
dancing just for you," he
said, his voice trembling
with emotion. Plankton's
eye followed the
toy's movements.

Plankton's hand
twitched, his antennae
perking up slightly. "Dibble,"
he murmured, a spark of
understanding in his eye.
He reached out to mimic
Chip's movements, his hand
shaking as he tried to make
the bear dance too.

Chip's heart swelled with
pride and love for his dad.
He had never seen this
vulnerable side of him before,
but in this moment, he knew
his father was still there,
fighting to reconnect.

new dare to be different seizurecore postictal

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 6
For a moment, Plankton looked
confused, his gaze fuzzy with sleep.
But then recognition set in. "Chip?"
he murmured, his voice thick with
sleep. Chip swallowed the lump
in his throat. "Yeah, Dad," he
managed to say. "I just came to say
good mo-"

Before he could finish, Plankton's
eye widened, his body tensing. "What
are you doing?" he demanded, his
tone sharper than Chip had ever
heard it. The room seemed to
shrink around them, the air thick
with the sudden tension.

"I-I just wanted to tell you I love
you," Chip stuttered, his hand
retreating from his dad's arm.
Plankton's gaze searched Chip's
face, looking for something,
anything that would explain this
invasion of his personal space.

Karen stepped in, her voice
calm. "It's okay, Plankton.
Chip just wanted to show
his love, that's all." But Plankton
wasn't easily soothed. His eye
narrowed at Chip, his mind racing.

"But why?" Plankton's voice was
low, almost a growl. "Why do
you need to do it like that?"
Chip felt the weight of his dad's
question, the unspoken fear behind
the words. It was a question about
boundaries, about the unspoken
rules that Plankton had always
followed.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Chip said, his voice
quiet. "I didn't mean to scare
you." He looked to Karen for
guidance, but she just nodded,
encouraging him to find his own
words. Plankton's eye searched Chip's
face, looking for sincerity.

"I just wanted to tell you that I
understand now," Chip continued.
"I know you have to do those
things to feel okay. I promise, I won't
make you feel weird about i---"
But Plankton was already sitting
up, his face flushed with anger.

"Weird?" he snapped, his voice
sharp. "Is that what you think of me?"
He pushed the covers away, his
body vibrating with agitation. "Is that
how you'll tell your neurotypical friends?"

Chip's heart sank, his words
unintentionally striking a nerve.
"No, Dad," he said quickly. "I didn't
mean it like that. I just want to
make sure I don't do anything that
makes you uncomf-"

"Uncomfortable?" Plankton
finished for him, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "Well, how
considerate of you."

Chip felt a pang of guilt, his
words sticking in his throat.
"I'm sorry, Dad," he murmured,
his eyes filling with tears. "I
just... I didn't know how to... "

Plankton took a deep breath,
his hands clenching into fists
at his sides. "You don't get
it," he said, his voice tight.
"You can't just... touch me
like that." His eye searched
the room, as if seeking
a retreat from the sudden
onslaught of emotion.

Karen stepped closer, her voice
soothing. "Chip didn't mean
to upset you, Plankton. He's
just trying to understand."
But Plankton couldn't hear her,
his mind racing with a barrage
of thoughts. He'd always been so
careful to keep this
hidden from his son, fearful
of the rejection he'd faced
in the past.

Chip's eyes were wide with
apology and confusion. "I'm sorry,
Dad," he said again, his voice
shaking. "I just wanted to show
you that I care. I mean, you let
Mom to-"

"It's different," Plankton
interrupted, his voice strained.
"Your mom knows me. She
understands me." His hand
went to his chest, where his
heart felt like it was racing.
"But you... don't you DARE
ever touch me again without
asking," he spat out, his voice
shaking with a mix of anger
and fear. Chip nodded, his
eyes downcast.

Karen sighed, her heart
heavy with the weight of the
conversation. "Plankton, honey,"
she began, her voice gentle.
"Chip just wants to support
you. He's trying to be there
for you in his own way."

Plankton's eye narrowed, his
body still tense. "But he doesn't
understand," he said, the
frustration evident. "No one
does, except for you." Karen
reached for his hand, but he
pulled away, his movements
quick and jerky.

Chip watched, feeling like
he'd just walked into a minefield
without a map. He didn't know
what to say, how to make it right.
He just knew he didn't want his
dad to feel this way. "I'm sorry,"
he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"I'll do better. I'll le-"

"Don't," Plankton said, his voice
sharp. "Don't make promises you
can't keep." He swung his legs
over the side of the bed, his
body language closed off. "I don't
want your pity, Chip." His words
were like a slap in the face, and
Chip felt his cheeks burn with
shame.

Karen stepped between them,
her hand on Plankton's shoulder.
"It's not pity, sweetie," she said,
her voice firm but gentle. "It's love
and support." Plankton's eye
flitted to hers, then back to Chip.
"I don't need Chip's help," he said,
his voice quivering.

"But Dad," Chip 
began, "I just-"
"I SAID DON'T!" 
Plankton's voice 
boomed through 
the room, his face 
a mask of fury. His 
antennae quivered 
with agitation, and 
he retreats to the
corner of the room.
A sign Karen knew
was his way of
shutting down. But
Chip doesn't realize this as
he tries to go to Plankton's
writhing body on the floor.

"Chip," Karen's voice 
was firm, "He's not
with us right now.
Let me only."
Chip stepped back,
his eyes wide with
concern as he watched.

Plankton was 
in a pose that 
screamed 'don't 
touch me'.

His legs were 
curled tight to his 
body, his arms 
wrapped around
his knees, and his 
eye squeezed shut,
his antennae 
pressed against 
his head. It was 
a position that 
spoke of overwhelm,
a silent scream for
space and solitude.

Karen watched him
carefully, her heart 
breaking into a 
million pieces. She
wanted to go to him,
to wrap him in her arms
and tell him everything
was okay. But she
knew better. This was
his retreat, she had to
respect it.

"Give him some space,"
she whispered to Chip,
who was hovering 
uncertainly. "He needs
time to regulate." Chip
nodded, his eyes still
glued to his dad's 
shaking form. He looked
so small, so lost in
his own little corner.

Plankton's breathing
was shallow and fast,
his antennae twitching
eratically. Karen knew
this was his safe place,
his retreat from a world
that often felt too loud, too
much. She walked over,
sat down next to him, but
not too close. She knew
better than to invade
his bubble.

"It's okay," she whispered,
her voice barely a breath.
"You're safe here."
Plankton's body didn't
react, but she saw his
hand, which had been
gripping the floor, relax
ever so slightly. It was a
small victory, but one she'd
take.

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑  🕊️🩰🐚  
Pt. 7
The room was silent, save
for Plankton's shallow breaths.
Karen could almost hear
his thoughts racing, his mind
a whirlwind of sensory input
and emotions. She sat
still, her eyes never leaving
his form, her hand staying
close but not touching.

Chip hovered by the door, his
hands clenched into fists. He
wanted to help, to fix this, but
his mom's words echoed in his
mind: 'respect his space'. It was
a concept that was hard to grasp,
but he knew it was important.
He watched as his dad's legs
shook, his whole body a
testament to the storm
inside him.

Karen's eyes never left
Plankton's shaking form. Her
heart broke for him, for the fear
and frustration that she knew
was churning within. She reached
out a tentative hand, letting it hover
just above his shoulder. "It's ok,"
she whispered. But Plankton flinched,
his body stiffening at the uninvited
contact as he turned his back to them,
now facing the wall. She knew
this look well, had seen it before.

The room was suffocating with
silence, the tension thick like a
layer of fog. Chip felt his own
anxiety rising, unsure of what to do.
He'd never seen his dad like this,
so... vulnerable. He took a tentative
step forward, his hand reaching out.
"Dad?" he asked softly.

Plankton's spasms grew more
erratic, his antennae quivering like
leaves in a storm. He didn't look up,
his breathing shallower with each
passing second. It was as if he'd
shrunk in on himself, retreating into
his own world where no one could
follow. Chip's heart ached, watching
his dad's body convulse with silent
sobs, his shoulders heaving as he
tried to regain control.

The room was a tableau of pain,
each second stretching into an eternity.
Karen sat with her back against the
wall, her hand still hovering, but not
daring to make contact again. Her eyes
were filled with a blend of love and
despair, the same look she'd worn
so many times before when Plankton's
autism had overwhelmed him. But
Chip had never seen this side of his
dad, had never known the depth of
his struggle.

Plankton's body was a maelstrom
of movements, each spasm a silent cry
for help. His antennae thrashed
against the floor, his legs kicked
out in a frantic dance. It was a
sight that would have been terrifying
to anyone who didn't understand,
but Karen's eyes never left him, her
expression calm and knowing. She'd
seen this before, had held the line
between panic and peace for her
husband countless times.

And then, through the chaos,
a sound. Plankton's voice, barely
above a murmur, speaking to himself.
"My stims," he whispered, his
hands moving in the air, mimicking
his own motions. "They're just...
they're just a part of it." The words
seemed to hang there, suspended
in the heavy silence of the room.

Karen watched him, her heart
breaking a little more with each
word. She knew he was trying to
make sense of it all, to reconcile
his fear of being different with
his need to be understood.
Chip's eyes widened in surprise,
his curiosity piqued by this
unexpected moment of
self-reflection from his dad.

"They're just... they're just
a part of it," Plankton murmured
again, his voice a little louder this
time. His antennae stilled, his body
slowly uncoiling from the tight
ball he'd curled into. Karen took this
stimming as a sign that the storm
is passing.

"What's a part of it, Dad?"
Chip asked, his voice tentative.
Karen shot him a warning look, but
Plankton didn't seem to hear.

"My fidgets," Plankton said,
his voice still barely above a
whisper. "My autism... it is
just part of it." His hand
continued to mimic the
movements, a silent conversation
with himself. Chip's mind raced.

"You're not to weird, Dad,"
Chip blurted out, the words
tumbling from his mouth
before he could stop them.

Plankton's movements stilled,
his antennae dropping to his side.
He turned to look at Chip, his eye
filled with something akin to
surprise. "What did you say‽"

Chip took a deep breath, his heart
racing. "I said you're not weird,
Dad," he repeated, his voice
slightly stronger. "Your stims are
just part of who you are." Plankton's
expression turned angry, his
body taut with tension.

"Don't patronize me, boy!"
Plankton snapped, his voice
sharp as a knife. "I DON'T
NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!" His
body was a tightly wound
spring, ready to snap at any
moment. Chip felt a flare
of anger in response, but
swallowed it down.

"Dad, I'm not," he said, his voice
calm despite his own turmoil.
"I'm just saying that I see you,
all of you. And I love you.
I don't think your stims are
weird. They're just... you."

Plankton's body 
remained tense.
"STOP talking
about it!" he yelled,
his voice echoing
off the walls.

Chip took a
step back, his eyes
wide with shock.
He'd never seen
his dad like this.
He didn't know
how to fix it.
"Dad, I-" he
started to say, but
Plankton cut him
off.

"I said stop!"
Plankton's voice
was a roar, his
body trembling with
anger and embarrassment.
He didn't want Chip
to see him like this,
so vulnerable, so out of
control. The room felt
like it was closing in
on him, the walls
pressing against his skin.

Karen's heart clenched
at the raw pain in
Plankton's voice. She
knew this moment was
about more than just
his stims, it was about
his fear of rejection, of
being seen as less than.

"Plankton, honey, look at
me," she said gently,
trying to cut through
the maelstrom of his
emotions. "Chip's just
trying to understand.
We all are." But Plankton's
eye remained locked
on the floor, his breaths
quick and shallow.

He felt like an
exhibit in a museum,
his private world laid
bare for his son to see.
The fear of rejection
was a living, breathing
entity in the room,
wrapped around him like
a suffocating blanket. He'd
managed to hide his stims
for so long, to keep that
part of him hidden away.
Now, it was out in the
open, raw and exposed.

Plankton's eye darted
between Karen and Chip,
his mind racing with a
thousand thoughts. He
wanted to shrink away,
to disappear into the
cracks of the floorboards.
But he knew he couldn't.
Not now. Not when Chip
kept looking at him with
such confusion and concern.

"Dad, I just-" Chip
started again, his voice
filled with earnestness.
But Plankton couldn't take it.
The words felt like a
knife twisting in his gut.
"I SAID, STOP!" he yelled,
his voice echoing through
the room. The sound was
like a gunshot, and Chip's
words died in his throat.

Karen watched the exchange,
her heart heavy with sadness.
She knew Plankton's anger
was a defense mechanism,
his way of dealing with the
overwhelming emotions that
threatened to drown him. But
seeing her son hurt by it
was almost more than she could
bare. She took a deep breath,
steeling herself for the storm.
"Plankton," she said calmly,
moving closer to him, her hand
outstretched but not touching.
"It's okay, sweetie. Chip's just
trying to be here for you." But
Plankton's eye was wild, his
body a coil of tension. He
was in full meltdown mode,
and Karen knew better than to
push him.

new to see or not to see chip plankton chip

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 6

Plankton's sobs grew
louder, the sound a
physical presence in
the room. Karen
tightened her grip
on Chip, her eyes
never leaving Plankton's
face. She knew
this moment was
crucial, a chance for
them to bridge the gap
that had formed.

Chip felt the warmth of
his mother's embrace,
her love grounding him.
He took a deep breath,
his hand still on his
dad's back. "I'm sorry,"
he said again, his voice
steadier this time.
"I didn't know that
word was bad. I love
you, Dad."

Plankton's sobs
continued, but Chip
thought he felt a slight
lessening in their
intensity. Karen
nodded, her eyes
swollen with tears. "Keep
going," she urged.

Chip took a deep
breath, his voice
barely above a whisper.
"I love you, Dad," he said,
his hand rubbing slow
circles on Plankton's
back. "I'm sorry for
hurting you."

Plankton's sobs grew
less intense, his antennae
stilling slightly. His body
shuddered with the effort
of controlling his emotions.
He was still lost in his
pain, but he could feel
the warmth of his son's
hand, a silent apology.

Karen watched, her
heart aching for both of
them. She knew that
autism could amplify
emotions to an unbearable
degree, and she could see
Plankton's struggle to
comprehend the hurt
he had just experienced.
"Keep talking to him,
Chip," she urged, her voice
soft. "He needs to know
how much you love him."

Chip nodded, his
throat tight with emotion.
He leaned closer to
his father, his voice
shaking. "You're not
slow, Dad," he said, his
eyes never leaving
Plankton's. "You're just...
you. And I love you,
just the way you are."

Plankton's sobs grew
slightly quieter, his
body still shaking with
the aftermath as Chip's
hand moves in soothing
circles on Plankton's
back, mimicking Karen's 
own soothing gestures.

Chip felt his own tears
fall now, his heart
breaking for his dad
now that he had hurt him.
He took a deep breath
and continued to speak.
"You're so smart," Chip
whispered, his voice
shaky but earnest.
"You're the best chef in
Bikini Bottom. You're...
you're just you, that's all."

Plankton's sobs grew
more muffled, his antennae
slowly calming. The sound
of Chip's voice, the warmth
of his touch, it was all
familiar and comforting.
He knew his son didn't
mean it, but the sting
of the slur was hard to
ignore.

Karen watched the
interaction, her own
heart heavy with the
weight of Plankton's pain.
But she also saw the love
and understanding growing
between her husband and
their son.

Slowly, Plankton's sobs
began to subside, his
breathing growing more
even. His antennae stopped
quivering.

Karen watched as Chip's
hands continued to make
soothing circles on his
father's back. She knew
that touch for Plankton
can be either a comfort
or a trigger.

Plankton's breaths grew
even, his sobs fading into
a quiet whimper. His antennae
finally stilled, and his body
seemed to melt into the bed.
The exhaustion that
always followed a seizure
was setting in, compounded
by the emotional turmoil.

Chip watched his dad, his
own eyes red with tears.
He didn't know what else to
say, so he just sat there,
his hand still on Plankton's
back, providing the
comfort he hoped his father
could feel. Karen's eyes
were filled with love and
pride as she watched her son.

Plankton's whimpers grew
softer, his body growing
heavier with each breath.
Karen knew he was
exhausted, both physically
and emotionally, taken a
toll on him. She reached
over to stroke his arm, her
fingers gentle.

"Plankton," Karen 
said softly. "You're
okay. It's okay."

Plankton's whimpers
gradually subsided as
his eyelid drooped. His
body grew heavier with
each breath, his antennae
coming to rest against the
pillow. Karen could see
the exhaustion in his
every movement, the toll
his seizure and the
intensity of his emotions
had taken.

Chip watched as his
father's breathing grew
steadier, his body
relaxing under his
touch. The room was
now silent except for
the quiet rustle of
sheets and Plankton's
soft snores.

Karen gently eased
Chip's hand away, her
own hand lingering for
a moment longer. She
whispered, "Let him rest
now, sweetheart."

Chip nodded, his
eyes still fixed on
his father's peaceful
face. He knew Plankton
was asleep now, his
body finally at ease.
The anger had drained
from the room, leaving
behind a quiet sadness.

Karen reached for
the plush bear on the
nightstand, placing
it in Plankton's outstretched
hand. His antennae
twitched slightly in his
sleep, his grip tightening
around the toy. She
smiled softly as Plankton's
snores grew deeper.

Chip stared at his
father, his own eyes
heavy with the weight
of the evening's events.
He had never seen his
dad so vulnerable, so
overwhelmed by his own
emotions. It was a stark
contrast to the Plankton
he knew—the clever,
resourceful, and often
frustratingly stoic man who
was his hero. But here
he was, a man who needed
comfort and reassurance.

The next day, Karen
woke Chip up. "We're
gonna go across town
to a big park, okay?"
Chip nodded, following
her to Plankton's bed.

Plankton was still asleep,
his antennae twitching 
slightly as he dreamt.
Karen approached the
bed, her steps light. She
knew he's a light sleeper,
yet waking him can be
startling, so she knew to
be extremely gentle.

Her hand hovered over
his shoulder. "Plankton," 
she whispered, her voice
barely a breath.

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, a sign
that he was coming
to. She waited, giving
his brain time to catch
up with the world. His eye
flitted open, his gaze
unfocused for a moment.

"Hey, sweetie," Karen
said, her voice gentle.
"We're going to a new
playground across town.."

new dare to be different cryingcore sorry

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 2

Plankton's cheeks flushed a
deep shade of red as he
processed her words.
Embarrassment flooded him
as he realized what must
have happened.

"It's okay," Karen assured, her
tone soothing as ever. She
wiped any last remnants of
drool from his chin, her
movements tender. "I think
we outta tell Chi-"

"N-no, Karen... we're not
gonna tell Chip," Plankton
stammered. The thought of
his son seeing him in such a
vulnerable state was too
much to bear. He didn't want
Chip to see him as weak, or
worse— someone to be pitied.

But it was too late. Chip
stepped out of the shadows,
his eyes wide and full of
unanswered questions. "Dad,
are you okay?" he asked, his
voice quivering with concern.

He didn't like the 
idea of Chip
seeing him in 
such a state of 
vulnerability. He 
had always 
worked hard to
mask his 
neurodisability 
from his son.

The room was
suddenly thick
with tension as
Plankton's eye
snapped to Chip, 
his antennae
drooping with 
embarrassment. 
He tried to hide 
his trembling 
hands, feeling 
exposed and 
weak.

"Chip," Karen began,
turning to her son,
her eyes pleading 
for understanding.
"It's just something
that happens sometimes.
Daddy's okay. Now, how
was summer ca--"

"What's wrong with him?"
Chip interrupted, his voice
cracking with emotion.
He had seen his dad act
different before, but this was
on a whole new level.

Karen sighed heavily,
guiding her son out of
the room. "Your dad has a
neurodisability, Chip. It's
called autism. Sometimes,
his brain does things that
are hard for him to control."

Chip's eyes grew even wider,
his heart racing as he
tried to process this new
information. "But why did
he talk like that?" he asked,
his voice barely above a
whisper. "It's just a
part of a condition,
sweetheart," she explained.
"It's like his brain gets
scrambled for a bit after
his seizures."

They sat down on the couch,
Karen's eyes filled with
compassion as she saw the
fear in her son's eyes.
"But he's going to be okay."
Chip looked at her with a
mixture of confusion and
concern. "What do you mean,
his brain gets scrambled?"

"It's like when you're playing
a video game, and the screen
glitches for a moment," she
tried to explain. "It just
takes him a little time to get
his thoughts straight after
one of these episodes."

Chip nodded slowly,
his gaze drifting back
to the bedroom door.
"I'll make us some
cookies, ok?" Karen 
said, giving him a 
gentle nudge.

Chip goes back
to his parents
bedroom. Plankton
was still on his
own bed. "What d-did
your mother t-tell you?"
Chip thought of how
to phrase his answer,
forgetting what his
mom called it.

"She told me that 
you're just re---"

Plankton's eye widened, his
face flushing with a mix
of anger and pain. The slur
cut deeper than any physical
blow could. "Don't you ever
call me that," he said, his
voice shaking. "Do you
underst--"

"It's just what mom 
said," Chip responded, 
his voice trembling.

But Plankton's expression 
was one of hurt and anger. 
He had worked so hard
to keep his condition
hidden from his son,
and now, in his most 
vulnerable moment,
his own wife had supposedly
betrayed him?

"What did she tell you?"
Plankton demanded, his
voice harsher than Chip had
ever heard before. His father
was clearly upset, and Chip
was torn between defending
his mom and trying to
understand what was happening.

"It's just what she
told me," Chip shrugs,
not knowing it's a
slur. "I'll go unpack."

Moments after Chip
left to his own room,
Karen comes back,
not knowing what Chip
said to him. "Plankton," 
she said softly, "I made 
some cookies!"

Plankton ignored her,
turning away.

"What's wrong?" 
Karen asked.

Plankton's antennae
twitched with agitation.
"You told him," he said
accusingly, his voice
shaky.

Karen's smile faded,
replaced by a look of
concern. "I didn't tell
him anything bad," she
explained gently. "Just
that you ha—"

"Don't say it," Plankton
interrupted, his voice
sharp. "Chip told me
what you said. How
could you do that?"

Karen's eyes widened in
surprise. "What do you
mean?" she asked.

"The... the 'R' word,"
Plankton cried, tears
streaming down.

Karen's heart sank, realizing
his fear. "Oh, Plankton, no,
not that," she said, reaching
for his hand. "I never called
you that, I pro-"

But Plankton was beyond
consolation, the damage
already done. "You did,"
he insisted, his voice
breaking. "You said it,
right there! I thought
you were the one person
who understood me.."

Karen felt a coldness
spread through her. "Plankton,
I swear, I never said that.
I just told him about your
autism! You know I'd
never call you that. Ever. I
would never use that
term."

Plankton's antennae
trembled with anger. "Then
why did Chip say it? He
said you told him I wa-"
Plankton choked back
a sob.

Karen's eyes searched
his face, desperation
creeping in. "Chip
must have misunderstood,"
she said. "Let's go talk
to him; we'll clear this up."
But Plankton's trust was
shaken, and his anger
was palpable. "No," he
snapped. "I don't w-want
to see either of you right
now." His voice cracked
under the weight of his
emotions.

Karen felt the sting of
his rejection, but she knew
his pain was deeper.
With a heavy heart,
she left the room. As she
closed the door, she heard
Plankton's muffled sobs,
and it broke her heart.

Making her way to
Chip's room, she tried to
prepare for the
conversation she knew
was coming. She wanted to
explain everything to her
son, to ease his fears
and misunderstandings.

When she reached Chip's
bedroom she took a
deep breath, steeling
herself for the emotional
conversation.

"Hey Chip," she said,
opening the door softly.
Chip sat on his bed, his
face etched with worry.
"We need to talk."

new dare to be different neurodisability chipcore

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 19

Chip's hand 
remains on his 
father's arm, his 
touch light. "So
what can I do to
make sure I don't
make you upset?"
He asks, his eyes
full of concern.

Plankton's antennae 
twitch. "Just... just 
ask before you touch 
me," he says, his voice 
soft. "And if I say no, 
don't take it personally."
Chip nods. "I will, Dad,"
he says, his hand now
slowly retreating. "But 
what about the seizures?"

Plankton sighs. "I don't
always know why they 
happen," he admits. "But 
when they do, it's 
important to keep me 
safe. No loud noises, no 
bright lights. And if you 
can, stay calm. I know 
it's scary, but it's just 
my brain saying it needs 
a break. But they can
happen if I'm really scared
and upset, or if my
body feels like it's too 
much to handle." His 
antennas droop slightly.

Chip nods, his 
mind racing with 
questions. "But why 
do you sometimes just 
freeze?" He asks, his 
voice gentle. "Or get 
really still and don't 
talk at all?"

Plankton's antennae 
quiver slightly. "That's 
called shutdown," he 
explains. "It's like...
my brain's had enough.  
It's like it's in a traffic 
jam, and all the messy
mixed up signals are 
confusing. So it just...
stops. It's my body's 
way of protecting me 
from stimulation I guess.
They're absence seizures,
and I don't always know 
I'm having them."

Chip's eyes widen. "So, 
it's like you're there, 
but not really?" He 
asks, his voice soft 
with curiosity.

Plankton nods. "It's 
like everything goes 
on autopilot," he says. 
"I may see and hear, 
but it's like my 
brain's on a break
to where I might not
recognize what's going 
on around me. It's like 
being lost in a dream
state, even though I'm
not 'dreaming' but, it's
like trying to remember
a dream after you've 
woken up. I also might
feel like I'm having a
headache." Chip listens 
intently, his mind 
trying to comprehend 
the complexity of 
his father's 
experience. "So, what 
can I do to help 
you when you're in a 
shutdown?" He asks, 
his voice laced with 
concern.

"Just be there," 
Plankton says. "And 
give me some space. 
Don't try to shake me 
out of it. Just wait 
until I come back. It's 
not something I can 
control." He pauses. "And
if you can, maybe 
find a quiet place 
for me to go to, where 
there are no bright 
lights or loud noises. If
your ever concerned go
get your mother. But my
absence seizures can be
triggered by stress too. So 
just keep an eye on 
me and help me to avoid 
getting too anxious."

Chip nods, 
his eyes wide with 
understanding. 
"What else can
trigger them? And
how come you don't
blink during them?"

Plankton's antennae
wave thoughtfully.
"It's like my brain 
is trying to reboot,"
he explains. "And the
not blinking is part
of it. It's like my 
body's way of saying, 
'I'm processing, hold
on.' It's hard to 
explain, but it's 
like everything else
about me, it's just 
how my body does.
As for what can trigger
them, it's often when
I'm really scared, or
there's too much 
going on around me. 
Sensory overload. But
déjà vu can trigger one,
maybe rapidly flashing
lights of bright colors.
Sometimes overlapping
chatter, if multiple people
talk at once. Or if you talk
too fast."

Chip nods, taking 
in every word. "What
about the times when
you steal from the 
Krabby Patty restaurant?" 
He asks, his eyes 
innocently curious.

Plankton's antennae 
wave slightly, his 
face a mask of 
resignation. "It's 
because my brain 
doesn't always work 
like everyone else's," 
he says. "I've had close
calls at the Krusty Krab
before. None of them
are to know about my
autism.."

Just then, Karen comes
in and sees them both
openly talking. "Aw-"

"Before you ask, if I say
yes and admit we're 
bonding, will you not
start with the aww-ing?"
Plankton says, rolling his
eye at her.

Karen laughs, wiping
at the corner of her
eye. "I just think it's
sweet, you two
talking like this!"

But Chip's mind is 
still racing with 
questions. He looks 
up at Karen. "Mommy, 
does Dad have doctors
to-"

Karen cuts him off 
quickly. "It can't be 
cured, sweetheart," she 
says gently. "But a lot 
of the time, it's just 
about understanding 
his needs and making 
sure he's comfortable. 
Now if something came
up or if he's even got
something like a cold,
we've a sensory friendly
specialist for those times.
Like when we travel, such
as for your science fair, I'd
look up nearest sensory
clinics, just in case. It's
because a regular medical
office setting can be too
much for him. A hospital
environment can be really
overwhelming for anyone,
but especially for him. Now
his dentist knows about his
autism and accommodates
him, but otherwise we'd only
reach out to the sensory ones
if a medic's needed." She
turned to Plankton, who's now
rocking on the bed, his knees
pressed against his chest, 
his antennae tucked in.

Karen looked back at
Chip. "He doesn't like
that question. If some
thing's needed, I know
to discuss it with him
and look at alternatives.
Otherwise, unless he has
a scenario in his head or
something, even in some
emergency, I know it's a
bad subject for him. I'm
always truthful with him
and I know him. I know
you meant nothing by it,
but unless absolutely
necessary or if he brings
it up, do not needlessly
bring up his healthcare
or whatnot. If anything
that is up to him. So, if
you're ever concerned,
you can ask me and we'll
tell you what you need to
know. The sensory specialist
is who we'd call, not any
ambulances or whatever,
and they're high-tech
and skilled with all topics
having to do with health.
Otherwise, do not bring up
anything like that. Do you
understand, Chip?"

Chip nodded, his 
eyes wide with 
understanding. "I'm
sorry, Dad," he says, 
his voice small. "I did
not know it was a bad 
question." But Plankton
didn't even respond.

Plankton's rocking 
is even more 
pronounced. It's 
his way of 
stimming, a way to
calm himself. "Dad?" 
Chip says again, but 
Plankton doesn't react.

Chip watches him, 
his curiosity 
piqued. He's seen 
this behavior before, 
but now he 
understands it's not 
because Plankton is 
mad or upset with him. 
It's just how he copes.
He decides to try 
something new. "Dad," 
he says softly, "can 
you show me how 
you stim?" Plankton
still doesn't seem to
hear him.

Karen notices 
the tension in 
Chip's voice and 
quickly steps in. "Why 
don't we all sit down 
and talk more 
about this?" She suggests, 
her tone soothing. 
"Plankton, can you tell 
Chip about stimming?"
But Plankton doesn't
even budge.

Chip watches 
his father's 
steady rocking, 
his curiosity 
growing. He tries 
again, his voice 
even softer. "Dad, 
please?" Yet Karen
notices his eye is
unfocused, distant.

"Plankton," Karen 
intervenes gently, 
"Plankton honey, 
are you okay?"

Plankton's rocking 
slows down as his
body stiffened. And
Karen knew exactly
what was happening.

"Chip," she says
gently, "Your dad's
experiencing a bit of
a seizure right now.
It's okay, he'll come
back to us."

Chip nods, his
heart racing as he
watches his father.
He's seen this before,
but now he understands.
It's not just strange
behavior, it's part of
his autism.

new adaptable family seizurecore chip

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 20

With gentle curiosity,
Chip moves closer to 
his dad, his hand 
outstretched but not
touching. "Dad?
Can I... can I help 
with your stimming?"
Plankton's antennae 
twitch slightly, but
his eye remains 
unblinking as his
body sits rigid.

"Chip," Karen says, 
her voice calm. "It's 
okay, honey. Just 
wait. He'll come back 
to us soon."

Chip nods, his 
heart racing as he 
watches Plankton's 
stillness. He's seen
this before, but this 
time feels different. 
This time, he knows.
With a deep breath, 
he sits down beside 
his father, his hand 
still hovering. He 
doesn't want to scare 
Plankton, doesn't want 
to do anything wrong. 
But he also doesn't 
want him to be alone.

Plankton's antennae 
begin to twitch, 
ever so slightly, as 
his breathing slows. 
Chip whispers, "It's ok, 
Dad," his voice 
barely audible.

The minutes stretch 
like hours as Chip 
watches his father. 
His mind fills with 
everything he's learned 
about autism, about 
his dad's challenges. 
He knows Plankton's 
brain is just trying 
to find peace amidst 
the chaos of sensory 
input. And even though
his hand is still, he 
knows he's there for 
his dad, ready to help 
whenever he needs it.

Slowly, Plankton 
blinks. His one eye 
meets Chip's, and for 
a moment, Chip sees 
fear, confusion, and 
then... recognition?
Plankton's body relaxes, 
his antennae drooping.
"Chip," he says, his 
voice a whisper. "Chip,
here. Did here, here.."

Chip nods, 
his heart racing. He 
knows his dad is 
trying to communicate, 
his mind still not
clear from the seizure. 
He gently takes Plankton's
hand and starts to 
stroke it, light and 
soothing. "It's okay, 
Dad," he whispers. "I'm
right here."

Plankton's antennae 
twitch, and he blinks 
again. His voice is 
still weak, but he tries 
to form words. "Chip... 
you... you're so... good."
The words come out 
slurred, but the warmth
is unmistakable.

Chip feels a weight
lifting from his chest. 
His dad's okay. "Thanks, 
Dad," he says, his voice 
steady now. "I'm just 
trying to underst--"

Plankton's antennae 
suddenly shoot up, 
his eye wide. "Wait," 
he says, his voice 
slightly stronger. "Your 
hand... it's... it's 
helping me?"
Plankton looks at 
his hand in wonder.

Chip nods. "Yeah, Dad. 
It's like... it's calming
you down," he says, 
his voice filled with 
a mix of confusion and 
relief.

Plankton's antennae 
wave slightly as he 
looks up at Chip, 
his expression a mix 
of amazement and 
gratitude. "Yippee!"

Chip's eyes light up 
at his father's rare 
outburst of joy. "You 
see, Dad?" He says, 
his voice filled with 
pride. "I can help you
just like you help me."
Plankton nods, his 
expression still 
somewhat dazed but 
now with a hint of 
smile.

"Oh, did I ever show
you our selfie I took
of us on the way to
my science fair? You
fell asleep on me!" He
says, pulling out his
phone to show Plankton.

Plankton, still not quite
conscious/aware in his
postictal state, claps as
he laughs. "Eeeeee! Post
it and let it go viral!" He 
squeals in delight, his 
eye wide and childlike.

Chip smiles. "Can I put
in the caption that you
have a neurodisability?"
Chip asks, to which his
dad nods eagerly.

Karen watches the
interaction with a soft
smile. She knows this
might be a pivotal moment
for both of them. "Remember,
Chip," she says, "It's important
that we respect your father's
boundaries. Even if he's okay
with sharing about his autism
right now, he might not always
feel like that. It's his story to-"

"Karen it be good!" Plankton
interrupts her as Chip writes
this as the caption:

'🐠💤💻💨: When your 
neurodisabled dad falls 
asleep on the way to
your big science fair, you 
gotta catch those Z's... 
and the moment! 😂👨‍🔬💤'

Chip posts it. 
"Ok then,
we all gotta 
get to bed,"
Karen says.

The next morning
Plankton wakes up
oblivious to what's
happened during
last night, obviously
not knowing about
Chip having such a
picture, let alone the
post itself.

Chip woke up early,
his heart pounding
from a mix of excitement
and anxiety. He quickly
checks his phone to
find the post has gone
viral, with dozens of
likes and comments.
His face beams with
pride.

Karen knew better
than to greet her
husband with such
news. Even though
he did unknowingly
consent to it, he was
not actually have any
awareness/explicit 
memory of it. So she
wouldn't bring it up in
front of Plankton.

"Good morning," Karen
greets him as usual, like
nothing happened. "How
did you sleep?"

Plankton rubs his
eye. "Fine, I guess,"
he says, still groggy.
Chip looks up from his
phone, his heart racing.

He's torn between 
sharing the viral post
and keeping the peace. 
But as Plankton heads 
towards the kitchen,
his antennae perk up.
"Is something wrong?"
He asks, his voice 
full of concern.

Chip takes a deep
breath and decides 
to hold off on the
news. "No, Dad," he
says, his voice 
steady. "Everything's
fine." Plankton nods
and continues into 
the kitchen, his mind
already racing with
thoughts of how he's
gonna attempt stealing
his rival Krabs formula
this morning.

Karen gives Chip 
a knowing look, and 
he nods. He understood.
For now, they'll keep the
viral post between 
them. They see Plankton
using his telescope to
spy on the Krusty Krab.

"What's your plan for
today? Perhaps any
thing that's successful?" 
Karen teased. "Hardy
haaaaaaahhhhh, Karen,"
Plankton replied, rolling
his eye. "I'll just wing it.."

new adaptable family seizurecore chip

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 8

Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous

https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all

Read the Autism And All one first!


By the next week, Plankton's
completely recovered
from the wisdom teeth
ordeal. And Chip's now
ready to attend the new
school.

The first day of school is a
flurry of nerves and excitement.
Chip puts on his best smile,
his backpack bulging with
supplies. Plankton's in the
kitchen, his usual self,
rambling about his latest
invention. Karen's voice
floats from the hallway.
"Remember, Chip. If you
see someone who's
different, don't stare or
make fun. Just be kind."
Chip nods before heading
out the door.

At school, Chip notices
a boy in his class, Timmy,
who flaps his hands and
makes noises during
storytime. Chip feels a
pang of recognition—his
dad does that too when he's
excited. He watches as
Timmy's classmates giggle,
whispering behind their
hands. Chip's heart squeezes
with a mix of empathy and
sorrow. He approaches
Timmy at lunch. "Hi," he says,
his voice tentative. Timmy
looks up, his eyes wide.
"You're new," Timmy says,
his voice high-pitched. "Yes,"
Chip replies with a small
smile. "My name's Chip." Timmy
bobs his head, his hands
still moving.

"What's wrong with your
hands?" Chip asks, his voice
soft. Timmy looks down, his
cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry,
I didn't mean to be rude,"
Chip adds quickly. But Timmy
smiles, showing a gap in
his teeth. "It's okay," he says.
"I have autism." Chip's eyes
widen, his mind racing back
to his dad's stims. "It's just
how I show I'm happy."
Timmy's words resonate with
Chip, and he feels a sudden
connection. "My dad has
autism too," he confides.
Timmy's eyes light up. "Really?"
He asks, his movements
ceasing for a moment.
"Yeah," Chip says, taking
a seat next to Timmy. 
"Sometimes it's hard, but 
he's pretty cool. But it's
also really tough for him."

Timmy nods, his hands
resuming their gentle flapping.
"It's not easy," he says. "But us
autistics are like superheroes, you
know? Our brains just work
a bit differently." Chip
can't help but smile at the
analogy. "Yeah," he says, "like
you guys have special powers."
Timmy's face lights up. "Exactly!"
He exclaims. "And sometimes,
our powers can be really
helpful. Like, I'm really good at
math and remembering stuff."
He beams with pride.

Chip feels a twinge of
understanding, remembering
his dad's obsession with the
Krabby Patty formula. "My dad's
good at inventions," he says.
"But sometimes, his brain can get
really, really overwhelmed." Timmy
nods. "Some days, my head does
too," he says.

The bell rings, signaling the
end of lunch. Chip and Timmy
quickly exchange numbers,
promising to talk more. As
Chip heads to his next class,
his mind is a whirlwind. He's
always known his dad was
different, but seeing someone
his age with the same
challenges brings a new
perspective.

In the classroom, he can't
concentrate. Plankton's words
echo in his mind: "I'm not
enough. I'll never be enough."
He feels guilty for his earlier
frustrations, for not
understanding the depth of
his dad's struggle.

During recess, Chip finds
Timmy alone.

Timmy's eyes scan the
playground, his hands
still. "You okay?" Chip asks.
Timmy looks up. "Yes. Hey you
know what helps me?" Timmy
asks, his voice hopeful. "I make
fun of my autism, like it's a
superpower. It makes me
feel better when people laugh
with me." Chip looks confused. "How
do you mean?"

Timmy grins. "I pretend
my flapping hands are
like wings, or my loud noises
are like sonic booms. It
makes the other kids laugh,
and it helps me feel like I
made them happy. And one
called me 'Stimmy' instead
of 'Timmy' which is okay, because
it's a part of me! I also like it
when people ask me about
it. It makes me feel seen. Make 
it like a game, or something.."
Timmy says.

Chip thinks about this,
his heart racing. He's never
considered turning his dad's
stims into something fun
or cool. It's always been a
thing to just ignore. But
now, seeing Timmy's joy, he
wonders if maybe there's
another way. He makes a mental
note to ask his dad about
his favorite superheroes,
thinking maybe they can
find a way to make his
stims more like superpowers.

Timmy smiles. "For my birthday
I got this book.. I've another copy!"
Timmy says, interrupting himself 
as he gives Chip a book. "It's a
fictional story about a guy
like me, but he's got superpowers
because of his autism.
Maybe your dad will like it."
Chip looks at the book titled "AUSOME
AUsomeness" and smiles,
his curiosity piqued. "Thanks,
Timmy," he says, tucking it into
his bag. "I'll show it to him."

Timmy nods, his eyes bright
with excitement. "You know,
sometimes when I feel sad or
overwhelmed, I just pretend
I'm that hero. It helps me."
Chip nods, his mind racing with
ideas. He's never seen
autism as a superpower before.
Could this be a way to help
his dad feel more like the hero
he's always been to him?

When Chip gets home, 
he finds Plankton in 
the living room. He sets
his bag down by the
couch as he greets his 
dad, and Karen, who's in
the kitchen. "Hi, Mom; Hi,
Dad!"

Plankton's eye lights up 
at the sight of him. "How
was school?" He asks,
curious as to how Chip's
first day went.

"It was ok," Chip says,
his mind still racing with
thoughts of Timmy and his
own father's autism. "I met
a kid like you, Dad." Plankton's
face falls slightly. "What do
you mean?" He asks.
"I mean," Chip starts,
his voice shaky. "He had
what you... I'll just show
you the book!"

He pulls out "AUSOME
AUsomeness" from his bag,
handing it to Plankton
with excitement. Plankton
looks at the cover, his eye
narrowing as he opens it.

"See, Dad?" Chip says, pointing
to a part where the character 
uses his hand flapping to take
flight. "It's like you w---"

But Plankton's
face is a mask of anger and
hurt. "What's wrong?" Chip asks,
his heart racing. Plankton
slams the book shut.

"Don't you dare," he says, his
voice low and dangerous. "Don't
you dare patronize me, Chip."
He stands up, his hands
shaking. "I'm not some
comic book character to be
made fun of or turned into
a joke!" His voice echoes
through the house, the
pain in it palpable.

Karen rushes in, alarmed
by the sudden outburst.
"Plankton, what's wrong?" She
asks, her eyes darting
between the two.

"This," Plankton says,
waving the book. "This is
what you think of me?"
The anger in his voice is
sharp. "How
could you, Chip?" He asks,
his voice trembling. "How
could you think I'd want to
be seen like some unrealistically
childish hero?" The room
is tense, the air thick with
emotions. Karen's eyes dart
between her husband and son,
trying to gauge the situation.

Chip's face falls, the joy
from his new friendship with
Timmy dissipating. Timmy's
autistic and loved it, so why
doesn't Chip's autistic father..

"I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice
small. "I just thought...it might
help." But Plankton's anger
doesn't waver. "You thought
turning me into a caricature
would make it better?" He asks,
his voice laced with sarcasm.
"Is that what you think of
me?" Chip's eyes fill with
tears as he watches his dad's
pain unfold. "Dad, I don't
underst--"

"No," Plankton cuts him off.
"You DON'T understand. You
think it's fun to play pretend
with something that's a
daily struggle for me?" His
voice breaks. "You think making
it a game will just make
it go away?" He throws
the book across the room,
where it hits the wall with a
thud.

Chip's eyes follow the book,
his heart sinking. He didn't
mean to make his dad feel
this way. "But a new friend
of mine said--"

"I don't care what some
stranger said!" Plankton
interrupts, his voice rising.
"This is my life, Chip! My
struggle!" His hands are
shaking as he clutches the
back of the couch.

Karen steps in. "Let's talk this out,"
she says, her voice a gentle
whisper. "We're all on the
sa-"

"No!" Plankton snaps, cutting
her off. He turns to Chip, his
eye boring into his son's. "You
think my autism is a game?
You think I can just pretend
it's a superpower and poof,
everything's fine?" His voice
cracks with each word. "You
don't get it. You don't get what
it's like to have a brain that
fights you every second of
every day." His hands are in
fists now, his knuckles white.

Chip feels like he's been
punched in the gut. "Dad,
please," he whispers, his voice
shaking. "I just wanted to...I
don't know, make it better.
Make you feel...happy."

Plankton sits back
down, his shoulders slumped.
"Happy?" Plankton repeats. 
"You think making a joke
out of it makes me happy?"

Chip feels like he's walking
on eggshells. "No, Dad," he says,
his voice barely above a whisper.
"I just...wanted to share
something that made us feel
better." He looks down at
his own hands, which are
now trembling. "I just want
you to be happy too." 

new to change the world spectrumpunk chip

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 6

Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous

https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all

Read the Autism And All one first!


Plankton's mouth moves, but
the words come out as a jumble.
"Purple...dog...car...
no, not a car," he says, his
expression vacant. Chip
swallows hard, not knowing
how to respond to the
senseless words.

Karen watches from the
sidelines, her eyes filled with
understanding and love.
This is her Plankton—her
quirky, lovable husband,
whose brain operates on a
different frequency. She
sees the fear in Chip's screen
and knows he's scared,
but she also knows that
understanding is key.

"It's ok, Dad," 
Chip whispers,
his voice trembling.
Plankton's hands move 
erratically, as if trying to 
capture invisible
objects. "Yellow...box...
closed...open," he mumbles.
Chip listens, his heart
racing. "Dad, can you
hear me?" he whispers.

Plankton's hand darts out,
flailing through the air.
"Butterfly," he says,
his voice a mix of
wonder and frustration.
"There are no butterflies
here," Chip says. Karen smiles
reassuringly. "It's ok.
Let's just be with him."

Plankton's words continue.
"Plankton," Plankton murmurs, "the
world is spinning—no, it's
just me spinning." He laughs,
his eye unfocused. Chip
swallows a lump in his throat.

"Dad," Chip whispers, "are you
seeing things?" Karen sighs,
knowing this is a way his
brain copes with pain and
overstimulation. "Sometimes
his thoughts come out all
mixed up," she says, her voice
a gentle explanation. "It's like
his brain's way of telling
stories when it's overwhelmed."

"Ball...bounce...high,"
Plankton murmurs, his hand
mimicking the action of throwing
an invisible object. "No, Dad,"
Chip says, trying to keep his voice
soothing. "No bouncing here."
He looks to Karen for guidance.

"It's alright," she says, her eyes
never leaving Plankton's. "Just
talk to him calmly. It's his way
of making sense of things."

Chip nods, his voice barely
above a breath. "Ball," he repeats
back to his father, trying to
enter his world. Plankton's
eye snaps to him, a spark of
recognition lighting his gaze.
"Yes," he murmurs. "Ball...bounce."

Karen watches them, her
heart swelling with pride.
Chip is learning, adapting.
He's becoming a bridge
between the worlds of the
neurotypical and neurodivergent.
"Red ball," Plankton says,
his hand rising and falling
as if tossing a non-existent
sphere. "No, blue ball," he
corrects, the words tumbling
out in a rush.

Chip nods, playing along.
"You're playing catch, Dad?"
he asks, his voice softer
now. Plankton's gaze flickers
to him, confused.

"Catch," he whispers, his hand
moving in slow arcs. "But it's
not a ball," Chip says,
his voice filled with gentle
persuasion. "It's just a game
you're playing in your head.."
Plankton's hand stops,
his gaze locking onto Chip, a hint
of irritation flitting across his 
features. "What?" Plankton asks, 
his voice disoriented as his
surroundings finally come back
to him.

Chip swallows, unsure of
what to say. He wants to help,
but feels frustrated by his
dad's behavior. "You know,
Dad, when you talk like that,
it's hard to understand," he says,
his voice carrying a touch of
exasperation. "You're not
really playing catch, are you?"

Plankton's eye narrows slightly,
his movements stilling. "It's not
real to anyone else!" Chip exclaims,
his voice louder than he
intended. Karen gives him a
sharp look, a reminder to keep
his voice down.

"Chip," she says, her tone a
mixture of warning and
patience. "You know his
autism makes things
different for him." But Chip's
thinking of the fidget toy,
of the way his dad snatched
it from him. He feels a
surge of anger, a feeling
he's not used to having towards
his dad.

"I know, but why does he have
to be like this?" Chip asks,
his voice a mix of frustration
and hurt. "Why can't he just
be normal?" Karen's gaze
softens. "Chip, everyone's
normal is different. Your
dad's brain just works in a
unique way. It's not wrong,
just di-"

"But it's annoying!" Chip
interrupts, his voice
cracking. "Everything's
always about his needs!"
Plankton's hand, which had
been still, starts to twitch
again. Karen sighs. "It's not
about needs, it's about
his comfort, Chip. And
right now, he--"

"But what about my comfort?"
Chip retorts, his voice
loud in the quiet room. "What
about when he yells or throws
things or gets upset because of
tiny stuff?" He's close to tears,
his emotions a tangled knot. "Dad,
everything's not about you,"
he says, not meaning to sound
harsh. But the words hang
in the air like accusations. "Everyone
has to deal with things," he
continues. "Why can't you? You don't
really have it that bad. Do you honestly
think your wife, my mother, actually
enjoys all of this? I can't even play with
my friends because you get too 
overwhelmed! And for what? Because
someone might laugh too loud or because
the TV's on too high? Do you know how
embarrassing it is to have to leave
because you can't handle a science fair?"

Karen's face falls. She's
heard Chip's frustrations before,
but never so raw and out in
the open. Plankton's eye
darts around the room, his
mind racing to understand.
He's missed the context, but
the anger in Chip's voice is clear.

"Chip," she starts, her voice
steady. "Your dad's brain is just
wired differently. It's not his
fault." But Chip's on a roll.

"I know, I know," he says, his
frustration mounting. "But it's like
he doesn't even try to get
better. Why can't he just
ignore it like everyone else? Why
can't we take him to a doctor
who can fix him?"

Plankton's hand stutters to a
stop, his gaze focusing on Chip
with a mix of hurt and confusion.
"Fix me?" he repeats, his voice
tiny. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," Chip says, his
shoulders slumping. "Just...
make it so you're not always in
pain or scared or...weird." He
can't look at his dad, his eyes
burning with unshed tears. "Living
like this, with all your autistic
stuff, it's just..." He trails off,
his voice cracking. "It's not
worth it."

Plankton's hand starts to
shake. "W-what?" He asks, his
voice shaky. Karen's heart
breaks for him, for the hurt
that's clearly etched on his
face. "Chip," she starts, but
his words cut her off.
"It's like you don't even
see us," Chip says, his voice
filled with pain. "You're in
your own world, and we're just
here, trying to figure out
how to help you." Plankton's
expression is a mask of
confusion and sadness.
"Did my mom marry you before
or after she found out you're
autistic?" Chip asks, his voice
sharp with accusation.

Karen's eyes widen in shock.
"Chip!" She says, her voice
firm. "That's not how we talk
about it. And I knew before.." 
But Chip's hurt, has turned to 
anger, and he's not listening.

"But it's true!" Chip insists,
his voice rising. "You always
have to be in charge, Dad,
always have to have it your
way. It's like you don't even
see us!" Plankton's face
pales, the words stinging like
bees. "Chip, please," Karen
interjects, her voice pleading.

But Chip can't stop, the
frustration of years boiling
over. "Why can't you just
be like everyone else? Why do
you always have to be so
difficult?" Plankton's hand
drops to his side, his eye
filling with sadness. "I'm
sor—"

Karen steps in, her voice
firm. "Chip, that's enough. Your
dad is doing his best." But
Chip's anger is like a storm,
unyielding. "Best? What about
our best? What about us? It's
always about you, Dad!" Plankton's
face contorts, the pain in
his heart as sharp as the
pain in his mouth. "Dad, we don't
need you," Chip says, his
words a knife to Plankton's soul.

"Chip," Karen says, her voice
sharp. "You need to go to your
room. Now." She points to the
door, her eyes filled with a
mixture of anger and sadness.
Chip's shoulders slump, but
he doesn't argue, retreating to
his room. Plankton's gaze
follows him, his mind reeling.
He's heard the frustration before,
but never so bluntly. Karen sighs,
exhaustion etching lines on
her face. "I know it's hard,
babe," she says, stroking Plankton's
swollen cheek. "But Chip's just trying
to underst--"

But Plankton shakes his head,
his voice a whisper. "No, no.
He's right," he says, his
eye brimming with
unshed tears. "I'm the one who's
always in the way." He pulls
his hand away, his gaze
dropping to his lap.

Karen's eyes are filled
with a mix of anger and
despair. "Don't say that,"
she whispers fiercely. "You're not
a burden." But Plankton's
thoughts are racing, his stims
abandoned. "Look at what
I've done," he says, his voice
breaking. "I've made you leave
things, I've made him hate me."

Karen's grip on his hand
tightens. "He doesn't hate you,"
she insists, her voice firm.

new to change the world sadfic chip

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 18
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ 
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ 
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. 
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ 
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ 
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ 
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ

Chip's screen flickers with
determination. He'll learn. He'll do better.
He'll show Plankton that he's not
just a clueless kid. He's his son, and
he cares. He'll be the support Plankton
needs, even if it means changing
everything he thought he knew. He'll
read about autism, he'll watch videos,
he'll listen to podcasts. He'll become an
expert on his dad's condition. He'll
find a way to bridge the gap between
them, to understand what Plankton's really
going through. So he went to his room
but a disturbing sight awaited him.

The photos of him and his dad
have been torn where Plankton
cut himself out of each picture
of him and Chip. The science
projects they've worked on are
in the trash bin. Past Father's Day
cards, crumpled into balls. It's
like Plankton's trying to erase
his existence from their shared
memories of father and son.

Chip sees Plankton in
his parents bedroom
on his bed.

"Dad?" Chip whispers, his
screen flickering with hope.
Plankton's antennae twitch slightly,
but he doesn't turn to look at his
son. The room is filled with a heavy
silence, the weight of their last
conversation pressing down on them.
"Dad, I found some articles," Chip
says, holding up his device. "They're
about autism, and how to be there
for someone who's going through
what you are." His voice is tentative,
his screen reflecting his fear
of rejection.

Plankton's antennae droop, his
body tense. He's been in his room
for hours, the door shut tight.
The only light comes from the
crack under the door, spilling
into the hallway where Chip stands,
his heart racing. He's read every
word, every article, every story,
desperate to find a way back in,
to fix what he's broken. But Plankton's
silence is a wall, a barrier he doesn't
know how to cross. "I'll be different,"
Chip says, his voice cracking. "I'll learn."
He takes a step forward. "I'll do
anything."

Plankton doesn't move. Chip's
heart sinks. He tries again. "I
brought some stuff for your
sensory box. Maybe it'll help."

The silence stretches on,
each second a chasm between
them. Chip's screen is a canvas
of hope and despair, his mind
whirling with all the ways
he could have handled this
better. He takes another step,
his hand outstretched, holding
the treasures he's collected. "I got
some new putty, and a fidget
cube," he says, his voice shaking.
"And... and some of your
favorite gummy worms."

Plankton's antennae quiver,
just a little, but he doesn't
turn. Chip's heart leaps, then
plunges again. "Dad, I'm sorry,"
he says, the words tumbling
out. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
The silence stretches, a tightrope
that Chip is desperate to cross.

He holds out the fidget cube,
his hand shaking. "Remember
how this helped before?" he asks,
his voice tentative. "I just want
you to feel better." But Plankton's
back remains to him, a wall of
disappointment. "Dad," Chip whispers,
his eyes glistening with unshed
tears. "I'll do whatever it takes. I
know I can't change the past. Please."
Plankton's antennae twitch, the
only sign he's heard. But he still
doesn't turn.

Chip's screen flickers with
desperation. He's seen his dad
like this before, but it's never
felt so final. "I brought your
headphones," he says, his voice
barely above a whisper. "For the
noise. To help." His hand trembles
as he holds them out. "Please,
Dad, take them." Plankton's body
shifts slightly, but his antennae
stay still. Chip's heart aches.
He's never felt so small, so powerless.

"Dad, I know I messed up,"
Chip continues, his voice cracking.
"But I'm trying to fix it. I want to
learn." He takes a deep breath,
his chest tight with emotion. "I'll do
better. I promise." The silence
is a gaping wound between them,
each second a stitch that won't hold.
He steps closer, his hand
extended. "Just tell me what
you need. Anything."

But Plankton remains still,
his antennae drooping with the
weight of his emotions. Chip's
heart races, his screen flashing
with fear and regret. He can't
stand the thought of his father
going through this alone. "Dad,
please," he says, his voice thick.
"I'm sorry for not understanding.
For making fun without realizing."
His hand holding the headphones
shakes more. "But I do now.
I'll be better."

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, but he says nothing.

Chip's eyes well up with
tears, his screen a blur of
emotions. He's never felt so
alone, so misunderstood. "Dad,"
he says, his voice thick with
desperation. "I know you're hurting.
But so am I." Plankton's body
remains still, his back a wall
against his son's words. Chip's
hand, holding the headphones,
drops to his side. "Please," he
whispers, his voice cracking.
"Let me help you."

The silence in the room is
deafening, the air thick with
unspoken words. Chip can feel
his father's pain, his anger,
his hurt. But Plankton's silence
is a fortress, an impenetrable
barrier that Chip can't seem
to breach. He swallows hard,
his throat tight with emotion.
"I love you, Dad," he says,
his voice barely audible. "And I'll
always be here for you."

Plankton's antennae twitch again,
but he doesn't turn. Chip's
heart feels like it's shattering
into a million pieces. He's never
seen his dad like this, so closed
off.

"Dad," he says, his voice shaking.
"I know I hurt you. I'm sorry.
But please, let me in." His hand
holds out the headphones,
his screen reflecting the desperation
in his eyes. "We can get through
this together." But Plankton's
back remains a wall.

Chip's eyes fill with tears,
his screen flickering with the
pain of rejection. He tries
again, his voice trembling. "I
won't give up on you," he says.
"I'll learn. I'll change. I'll do
whatever it takes." He takes
a step closer.

But Plankton remains unmoving,
his antennae drooping. Chip's
heart feels like it's breaking. "I'm
here, Dad," he whispers. "I'm
right here." The silence is a
chasm, each second a step
further apart.

He takes another step, his hand
still outstretched. "Dad," he says,
his voice a plea. "You don't
have to go through this alone."
Plankton's antennae twitch, a
tiny movement that gives Chip
just a glimmer of hope. "We can
learn together," he says, his voice
stronger now. "We can figure
this out."

The room feels like it's closing
in around them, the air thick with
the weight of Plankton's silence.
But Chip refuses to give up. He
knows his father is in there,
behind the wall of anger and
hurt. He can't let him go. "Dad,"
he says, his voice steady. "I know
you're in pain. But I'm not leaving."
Chip says, sitting on the bed. 

new autism and all chip plankton chip

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 7

Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous

https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all

Read the Autism And All one first!


"Chip's just trying to understand.
And so are you." But Plankton
can't find the words, the weight
of his son's accusations
crushing him. He
swipes at a tear that's
managed to escape, his
shoulders heaving.

"I just want to be
normal," he whispers,
his voice barely audible. "To
not be a disappointment."
Karen's eyes are filled with
love and sadness as she
shakes her head. "You could never
be a disappointment to me,
Plankton. You're perfect just
the way you are." But he stands
up, turning away from her.

"No, I'm not," he says, his
back to her. "Look at what
I've done. I've ruined our
lives." His voice is thick
with emotion. "I've made
Chip resentful, and I've
made you...sacrifice so much."
Karen moves to his side,
placing a hand on his arm.
"You haven't ruined anything,"
she insists. "You're a
wonderful husband, an—"

"Don't," he snaps, turning to
face her, the pain in his eyes
like a physical force. "Don't
lie to me. You deserve better
than this. Better than a
husband who can't even sit through
a simple family outing without
falling apart." His voice
cracks, the weight of his
words heavy in the quiet
room. "You deserve someone who
can give you a normal life!"

Karen's eyes fill with
determined love. "You are
what makes our life
normal, Plankton," she says,
her voice steady. "Our life is
special because of you. And as
for Chip, he's just confused.
He'll understand when he's
older." But Plankton shakes
his head, his hand coming
up to cover his mouth,
stifling a cry as he leaves 
their bedroom.

He moves through the
house, his bare feet silent
on the cool floor, his thoughts
a cacophony of doubt and
self-loathing. His mind replays
Chip's words over and over as
he opens the back door, to 
the backyard. The porch creaks 
under his weight, his eye unfocused.

Meanwhile, Karen goes in
to Chip's bedroom.
"Chip," she says, her voice
soft but firm. "You need to
apologize to your dad."
He looks up, his eyes
swollen from crying.
"But I just want him to get
better," he whispers, his voice
small. "I don't like seeing
him hurt." Karen sighs,
sitting on the edge of his bed.
"I know, sweetie. But your dad
can't get 'better' from being
autistic. It's not a sickness."

She takes a deep breath,
choosing her words carefully.
"What your dad needs is for
us to understand him, to
make things easier for him.
And for us to be patient
when things are hard."

Chip sniffs, wiping at his
nose. "But it's not fair,"
he says, his voice a mix
of anger and sadness. "Why
does he get to be different?"
Karen's eyes fill with
compassion. "Because he is,
Chip. And that's ok. We're
all different, in our own
ways. That's what makes us
unique." She pauses, looking
at him with a gentle
expression. "But it's also what
makes us a family."

Plankton sits in the backyard.
The stars twinkle above,
their indifferent beauty a
contrast to the tumult in his
heart. He's heard the whispers
before, the way people
look at him—his inability
to fit in, his strange behaviors.
He's always known he was
different. But to hear it
from Chip...it's like a punch
to the gut.

His mind races, trying to
make sense of it all. The
world feels like a puzzle
he can never solve, no matter
how much he wants to. He's
tried to be better, to do better,
to be the husband and father
his family deserves. But it's
always just out of reach, like
the elusive Krabby Patty
formula he's chased for years.
He looks down at his hands,
still trembling slightly.

In the quiet of the night,
his stims come back, a
comforting rhythm that soothes
his frayed nerves. He
starts to rock slightly, back and
forth, his eye unfocused. It's
a habit he's had since he was
young, a way to calm the storm
in his head. It's his brain's
way of telling him he's safe,
even when the world feels
like it's closing in. He
doesn't realize he's speaking
until the words spill out.
"I'm not enough," he whispers
to the night. "I'll never be
enough.."

Back in the house, Karen
holds Chip tight, her heart
heavy with the weight of
their conversation. She knows
his frustrations are born out
of love, but she also knows
how much Chip's words sting
Plankton. She needs to fix
this, to mend the fracture
in their family's foundation.

"Come on, buddy," she says,
wiping Chip's tears away. "Let's
talk to your dad. He needs
to hear you're sorry." Chip
nods, his eyes red and
swollen. Karen leads him to
the back door, where they find
Plankton, his gaze lost as he
shivers uncontrollably.
"Dad?" Chip says.

Plankton's head snaps up, his
eye wide with surprise. "What?" He
says, his voice thick with pain.
"I'm sorry," Chip whispers, his
body trembling. "I didn't mean
those things."

Karen's gaze is firm, her
voice steady. "We need to talk,
Plankton," she says. "Both of
you." She leads them back inside,
the warmth of the house a stark
contrast to the chill outside.
Plankton allows himself to be
guided, his mind a whirlwind.
In the living room, they
sit, a tapestry of emotions.
Karen starts, her voice
measured. "Chip, your dad
doesn't mean to make things
difficult. His brain just
interprets the world differently."

Chip looks up, his eyes
wet. "But why can't he just
try?" He asks, his voice
desperate. "Why can't he just
be normal?" Plankton flinches,
his gaze dropping to the floor.

Karen sighs, her hand
wrapped around Plankton's.
"Chip," she starts gently. "You
know autism isn't a choice.
Your dad's brain is different. It's
like asking someone to change
their eye color." Chip frowns,
his young mind struggling
to comprehend. "But why can't
he just ignore it?" He asks,
his voice small.

Plankton looks up, his eye
filled with a mix of anger and
sadness. "Because it's not
ignorable," he says, his voice
firm. "It's like you're asking
one to ignore breathing."
The room falls silent, the gravity
of his words sinking in.
"It's always there, affecting
how he sees, hears, feels."
Chip's expression softens, a
glimmer of understanding
dawning. "Your dad
does his best every day. And
so do we, to support him.
It's not about changing
for him, Chip," she says. "It's
about meeting him where he is.
When someone's in a wheelchair,
you don't tell them to climb
the stairs. You build a
ramp." Plankton nods slightly,
his gaze still on the floor.
"Autism is like that," Karen
continues. "It's part of who
he is, and we love him for all
of him."

new to change the world sadfic chip

⊹ ࣪ ˖

new chocolate chip cookie

✰ ✰ ✰∘˙○˚.•

new chocolate chip bat dragon chocolate chip bat dragon name

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 16
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ 
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ 
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. 
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ 
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ 
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ 
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ

The room feels smaller, the air
thicker with tension. Chip's eyes
are wide, his screen reflecting his
father's distress. "What did I do?"
he squeals, trying to help. But
Plankton's body can't take the
loudness anymore.

Karen's screens flicker with
desperation. She puts her hand
on Chip's shoulder, her eyes
pleading. "Chip," she says, her
voice urgent. "You need to
lower your voice." But Chip's
screen is a blur of confusion
and hurt. He doesn't understand.
"Why?" he asks, his voice
still too loud. Plankton can't
move, gasping for breath.

The room seems to spin
around Plankton. His antennae
vibrate with fear, his body
on the edge of a meltdown.
The noise, the suddenness of it,
it's too much. He can't escape.
And then his body betrays him.
He feels the world shrink,
his vision tunneling down
until all that remains is
Chip's face. "Dad?" Chip says,
his voice too loud, too close.
His body seizes up.

Plankton's mind fights to
regain control, his eyes
dilating. "Need... quiet,"
he gasps out, his voice barely
a whisper. The words hang
in the air, a plea for sanctuary.
But Chip's screen is a chaotic
storm of emotions, not understanding.

"Dad, I'm sorry," Chip says,
his voice shaking. But Plankton
can't hear the words, only the
deafening volume. With a 
strangled cry, Plankton's
body goes rigid. His eye rolls
back as the shutdown takes.

"Dad?" Chip says, his voice high and
panicked. He reaches out, but
Karen stops his hand freezes mid-air. She's
seen this before, the sudden
loss of control, the way her husband's
body can just... give out.
Her screens flicker with a mix
of sadness and resolve. "Chip,
back up," she says firmly. "Give
your dad some space." Chip's
face falls, but he does as he's told.
He steps back, his hands
shaking. Karen's seen
Plankton like this before,
but it never gets easier.
Another shutdown, another
moment where she's forced
to be the rock in the storm.
"Is he okay?" Chip asks,
his voice trembling.

Karen's eyes are on Plankton,
his body now limp on the
couch. "It's okay," she says,
her voice calm. "It's his brain's
way of shutting down." She
takes a deep breath. "We just
have to wait it out."

Chip's screen flickers with
fear. "What do we do?"
he asks, his voice high-pitched.
Karen's screens light up with
instructions. "Let him be,"
she says. "He needs quiet,
no sudden movements. It'll
pass."

They sit in silence, the
only sound the distant hum
of the city outside, a stark
contrast to the chaos
that was just in the room.
Chip watches his father,
his mind racing. He didn't
understand. He just wanted
to be close, to help.

Yet Plankton is still, his
mouth slightly open, his
eye still rolled back in
his head. "Plankton, love," 
Karen says, her voice 
gentle. "Come back to us."
Her hand moves to his cheek,
her touch feather-light.

Chip watches, his heart racing.
"What's happening?" he whispers.
Karen's eyes never leave her
husband. "It's a shutdown,"
she says, her voice steady.
"It's like his body's
turned off, but he's still in there."
Her screens flicker with
experience. "It's his brain's way
of protecting itself."

Plankton's antennae are still,
his body unmoving. Karen
speaks to him in a gentle
lullaby, her voice a soothing
balm. "Come back to us, love,"
she murmurs. "We're here, we
love you." Chip's eyes are wide
with fear, but he remains
silent, listening to his mother's
calm words. "Remember,
Chip," she says, not breaking
the rhythm of her voice.
"Patience is key." Her screens
flicker with reassurance.
"It might take a few minutes,
but he'll come back to us."
Chip nods.

The room is quiet, the air
heavy with unspoken words.
Karen's screens dim with
sadness, but she keeps her voice
steady. "It's okay, Plankton,"
she whispers, her hand stroking
his antennae lightly. "You're safe."
Her words are a beacon in
the stillness, a gentle reminder
that they're there, ready to
support him when he's ready.
Chip's screen shows his mind
racing, trying to grasp the
complexities of his father's condition.

Plankton remains unresponsive,
his body a silent testament
to the storm inside him. Karen
keeps her voice soft, her eyes
never leaving his. "We're here,"
she says, her voice a promise.
"I'm here. Chip's here. We're not
going anywhere." She continues
to whisper, her words a gentle
breeze in the quiet room.

Chip's screen flickers with
fear as he watches his dad.
"Dad?" he says, his voice
barely a whisper. But Plankton
doesn't stir, his body a statue.

Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's face, her voice a
soothing melody. "It's okay,"
she says, her words a soft
caress. "You're safe. We're here."
Her screens are a picture
of serene patience, her hand
still gently stroking his antennae.
"Chip, talk to him," she whispers,
nodding towards the unresponsive
body. Chip's eyes widen,
his voice trembling.

"Dad?" Chip says, his voice
barely audible. "I'm sorry."
His words hang in the air,
each syllable a thread of hope.
He's watched his mother's
gentle touch, her calm demeanor,
and tries to mimic it. His hand
reaches out tentatively,
his screen reflecting his fear
of causing more harm. He touches
Plankton's shoulder, his
fingertips light as a feather.

Karen's eyes never leave her
husband, her voice a soft
whisper. "It's okay, Plankton,"
she repeats. "We're here." Her
hands move in a slow, rhythmic
motion, a silent lullaby for
his soul. Chip's hand joins hers,
his movements tentative, seeking
guidance. Chip's eyes are glued to his
father, his mind racing with
questions and regret.

Plankton's antennae twitch slightly,
his body unmoving. Karen's screens
flicker with hope, her voice steady.
"You're okay," she says, her voice
like a gentle stream. "You're safe."
Chip's screen reflects his mother's
calm, his voice matching her tone.
"Dad, can you hear me?" Then,
ever so slowly, Plankton's antennae
start to move, his body shifting.
He blinks, his eye focusing on
his wife and son. "What... happened?"
he murmurs, his voice weak. He
sees Chip's hand on his shoulder.
Karen's screens light up with
relief. "You had a shutdown,
sweetie," she says, her voice a warm
embrace. "But you're okay now."

new autism and all faintcore faintingcore chip

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 5

Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous

https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all

Read the Autism And All one first!


Karen sits on the bed, her
presence a comforting
weight. "Would you like
me to stay?" she asks, her
voice gentle. Plankton nods, his
body still tight with pain.
He closes his eye, his mind
racing with the discomfort.
He tries to focus on his
breath, in and out, in and out.
But the throb in his mouth
is a constant reminder
of agony that threatens 
to overwhelm.

Then, Plankton starts to
talk to himself to self-soothe.
"It's safe," he whispers.
"Can water's just fine."

Karen watches him,
knowing this is a way
of regaining control,
his mind trying to find
peace in order to rest.
She knows that the pain, the
sensory assault, the
confusion—it's all too much.
But she also knows that he
has the willpower to push through.

"Was do it" Plankton
whispers to himself.
"I told him but he didn't
listen," he murmurs, his
thoughts racing with the
memory of the fidget toy.
"It's my fault," he adds. "Not
my place to correct him, do
not touch." His words are
a jumble of regret and
frustration.

"It's okay," Plankton says
again. "The healing safe.
It's just a feeling." He repeats
this mantra, his breath
evening out. Karen can see the
tension in his shoulders
easing, his grip on the
ice pack loosening as his
body relaxes.

"You're doing great,"
Karen whispers. "Just rest."
And with that, Plankton's
body gives in to the call
of sleep, his breaths trailing
off into soft snores. Karen
watches her husband
with a mix of love
and sadness.

Chip lingers by the door,
his curiosity piqued. 
He wonders if
his dad's autism is the
reason behind it.

With tentative steps, Chip
enters the room. Karen takes
his hand in hers, and he follows
her out of the room and in
to the hallway.

"Mom," he starts, his voice
barely a whisper. "Why is Dad
autistic?" Karen looks
down at him, her expression
thoughtful.

"Well, Chip," she says, her voice
soft. "Your dad was born that
way." Chip nods. "But w---"

"Autism is something that
develops in the brain before
birth," Karen continues.
"It's like how some people are
right-handed and others are
left-handed. It's just how
his brain is wired." Chip looks
at her with a frown. "But why
did Dad...?" "Why did it happen?"
Karen finishes his question.
She takes a deep breath,
preparing to explain. "You see,
sometimes during pregnancy
or childbirth, something
small can change you. When
his mom was giving birth, his
brain might have gotten a little
squeezed and then not enough oxygen.
It's just the way his brain grew
because of that, that's all."
Chip nods slowly, trying to
understand. "So as dad was
being born..."

"Yes," Karen says, her voice
soothing. "His brain was forming
its connections, and that
little squeeze changed the way
his brain makes those connections.
It's like if you're building a
Lego castle and one piece gets
bent. It doesn't mean the castle
can't be amazing, it's just a
tiny part of it that's a bit
different." Chip looks up at
his mom, his eyes wide. "But
does that mean I could be like
Dad if I squ--"

"No, Chip," she says, cutting
off his words gently. "It's not
that simple. Autism is just
nothing you can catch or
change, and it's not something
you need to be afraid of."

Chip nods, his gaze still
fixed on her. "But why does
he get so upset sometimes?"
Karen sighs. "Because the
world can be a very overwhelming
place for him, Chip. His brain
picks up on every little thing—
sounds, smells, sights—it's all so
intense. And sometimes,
those things get too much, and
his brain can't keep up. It's like
when you're playing a video
game and the screen is flashing
too fast—it's hard to focus."

"But why does he get mad?"
Chip persists. Karen kneels down
to look him in the eye. "It's not
that he's mad, honey. It's just
his way of dealing with it.
Imagine if you had a headache
and someone was shining a
bright light in your face—you'd
want them to stop, right? It's like
that, but with anything."
Chip nods, understanding
dawning. "So, when the fidget
was making noise, it was like a
headache for Dad?" Karen smiles.
"Exactly. And when he tells
you something is too much,
it's not that he's upset with
you—it's his brain telling him
he needs a break."

Plankton's snores from the
bedroom remind them of the
present. "Let's let Dad rest,"
Karen says, steering Chip towards
his own room. "But what about
his teeth?" Chip asks, his voice
laced with worry. Karen's
smile is reassuring. "They'll
feel better soon, and we'll
have to be extra gentle with him.
No loud noises, no surprises.
Ok?" Chip nods.

In the quiet of the
living room, Karen and Chip
begin to set up a recovery
area for Plankton—a space
free from the chaos that
could easily overwhelm
his fragile state. They
gather his favorite pillows, a
soft blanket, and dim the lights.
Chip wants to make sure his
dad feels safe.

On the coffee table, they lay
out a tray with a glass of
water. Karen knows
that it's important not to 
startle Plankton, that he
might need help getting up
without disturbing his mouth.
"Let's go to see him." Karen
says.

As they enter the
bedroom, Plankton's snores
have subsided into a gentle
rhythm. Chip tiptoes over,
his eyes wide. He's seen
his dad tired before, but
this is different. He looks
smaller, somehow, more 
vulnerable. Gently, he touches
his dad's arm..

Plankton's eye snaps open,
his body jerking upright. The
movement sends a shock
of pain through his mouth. "Agh!"
he yelps, his hands shooting
up to clutch his cheeks.

Chip jumps back, his eyes
wide with alarm. "Dad!" He
says loudly. But now Plankton's
even more overwhelmed, and
Karen notices his somewhat
distant gaze.

"Chip, remember what we talked
about," Karen whispers. "Use a
quiet voice." Chip nods and
speaks more softly. "Dad, are you
ok?" Plankton blinks, his mind racing.

"Dad?" Chip tries again, his voice
barely a murmur. Plankton's
breath hitches. "It's me,
Chip! You're home. You had
surgery. Remembe---"

But Plankton's eye darts around
the room, his mind a
swirling vortex of pain and
disorientation as Chip talks
to fast. Karen
quickly moves to his side,
her touch grounding him. "It's ok,"
she whispers. "You're safe.
You're home." And then, he
starts to talk to himself.

"No...no...no...yes...yes...yes," 
he murmurs. Karen knows
that he's retreated due to
the overwhelm. It's happened
before, where he's seemingly
on autopilot.

"Water's okay, can't
talk right now," Plankton
whispers to the empty
space. His eye darts
back to Chip, then to the
ceiling. "No, no, no," he
says again, his voice
getting quieter.

Karen's heart aches,
seeing her husband
so lost in his own
head. She's seen this
before—his autism taking
control when the world
was too much to handle.
Chip however doesn't 
really understand.

"Dad?" Chip whispers,
his voice shaky. Plankton
doesn't respond, his
eye locked on the ceiling
fan spinning above them.

"It's ok," Karen says,
her voice a soft reminder.
"Sometimes his brain
is on backup." She strokes
his arm gently, knowing
his semiconscious state isn't
abnormal for him, as
Plankton's monologue
continues. "Need to 
count...one...two...
three..." His voice trails off.

Chip watches.
"Is he ok?" He asks,
his voice trembling. Karen
nods. "This is his way of
dealing with things,"
she whispers. "Let's just
give him some time."

Plankton's eye darts
between them, his mouth
forming words without
thought. "Red...blue...green,"
he says, as if naming
colors he's seeing in the
air. "Big...small...far...
near." Karen knows he's
not really seeing anything,
his mind a kaleidoscope of
sensory input that's difficult
to process.

"Why?" Plankton asks no
one in particular. "Will it
be the one? It's just a
feeling," he murmurs, trying
to convince himself. Karen
understands it's his brain's
attempt to organize the
overwhelming stimuli, but Chip
looks on with a mix of
concern and confusion.

"It's ok," Chip whispers,
his hand hovering over his
dad's. He wants to help,
but doesn't know how. Karen
smiles at him, nodding.
"You can talk to him,
buddy. Just keep it low."
Chip nods and sits
on the edge of the bed.

"Hey Dad," Chip says,
his voice barely above a
whisper. Plankton's eye
flips over to him, but he
doesn't seem to see him.
"It's me, Chip. We're here,"
Chip says, trying to
provide comfort.

new to change the world karen plankton chip

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 9

Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous

https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all

Read the Autism And All one first!


Plankton stands
up and storms off to the
bedroom, his steps heavy.
The door slams shut behind him,
the finality of it echoing through
the house. Chip's eyes fill
with tears, and he sinks to the
floor, feeling like he's failed
his dad. Karen sighs.

"Chip," she says, her voice
soft as she sits beside him.
"Your dad's just really sensitive
about his autism." She takes
his hand. "You have to remember,
it's not just something
he can turn on or off."

Chip nods, feeling small.
He didn't mean to upset
his dad. He just wanted to help,
like Timmy had helped him.
He thinks back to their lunchtime
chat, Timmy's hands flapping
freely as he talked about
his 'superpowers'. It had made
his dad's stims seem less
like a 'problem' and more like
something unique, something to
celebrate.

But now, Chip isn't so sure.
He looks up at Karen, his eyes
wet. "But Mom," he says, his voice
cracking. "Today at school, I met
a kid named Timmy. He said he's
autistic, and gave me this book. He
said this book makes him feel
like a superhero. He told me
the book made him feel seen,
understood." Karen nods, listening
intently as Chip speaks.

"And I thought...maybe it could
help Dad feel the same way,"
Chip continues, his voice
trailing off. Karen's gaze
softens. "You had good intentions,
Chip," she says, squeezing his
hand. "But everyone's different,
even those with autism. What
might help one person might
not be the same for another. It's
like a fingerprint—each one is
unique."

"But Timmy said it helps
him," Chip argues, his voice
small. Karen nods. "And that's
wonderful for Timmy," she
says. "But your dad's experience
is his own. He's not as
comfortable with it as Timmy
might be. Autism is like a
mosaic, Chip. Each piece is
different, and they all come
together to make a unique
picture." She pauses, searching
his eyes. "You can't always assume
what works for one will work
for another."

Chip wipes his screen with the
back of his hand, feeling a
wave of guilt wash over him.
He didn't mean to make his
dad feel worse. He just wanted
to share something positive.
"What do we do?" He asks,
his voice cracking. Karen takes
a deep breath. "We need to
talk to him," she says. "We need
to tell him that we love him
exactly as he is, without
conditions." She stands.

They approach the bedroom
door, Karen's hand on the
knob. "But remember,"
she whispers to Chip. "He's
fragile right now. We have
to be gentle." They step inside,
the room dimly lit.

Plankton's lying on the bed,
his back to them, his body
still. Chip's heart squeezes.
This isn't the invincible
scientist he's always known.
This is his dad, a man who's
been hurt by misunderstanding.

Karen clears her throat. "Plankton,
we need to talk." Plankton
doesn't move. "I'm sorry, Karen,"
he says, his voice muffled
by the pillow. "I just don't
have the energy for this
right now."

Chip's heart aches. He's never
seen his dad so defeated.
He takes a deep breath,
steeling himself for what
he's about to say.

"Dad," he starts, his voice
soft. "I'm sorry." Plankton's
body tenses but doesn't
turn around. "I didn't mean
to make fun of you or make
light of your autism. I just
wanted to show you that
someone else out there is
just li—"

"I don't want to be like
someone else," Plankton says,
his voice muffled by the pillow.
"I just want to be me." Chip
swallows hard, his eyes
prickling with tears. "But Dad,"
he says, "you are like
someone else. You're like my
new friend. His name's Timmy, an-"

"I don't know or care WHO
Timmy is," Plankton cuts
in, his voice sharp. "I'm
Plankton." He rolls over to
face them, his eye red. "I'm
not a kid playing pretend.
I'm a grown man trying to
navigate a world that's
always two steps ahead of me."
Chip feels his heart crack.
He'd never thought of it that
way. "But what if you could
see it as a strength?" He asks,
his voice hopeful. "What if
instead of trying to keep
up, you could be the one
setting the p-"

"Setting the pace?" Plankton's
voice is bitter. "How can
I set the pace when I can't
even keep up?" His words
hang in the air, each one a
sharp reminder of his daily
battles. Chip feels his throat
constrict. "Dad, I'm sorry," he
says, his voice breaking. "I
just wanted to help, like, you
see my friend Tim-"
"I don't need to be compared
to a child's book! And what
does 'Timmy' have to do wi-"

"It's not just a book, Dad,"
Chip says, his voice firm. "It's
about understanding that
autism isn't a flaw or a joke,
it's just...part of who you are.
And Timmy, he's like a superhero
because he's found a way to
turn his challenge into strengths,
on account of he has autis–"

But Plankton cuts him off with a
sharp laugh. "A strength?"
He asks, his voice laced with
sarcasm. "What strength? My
inability to not get overwhelmed
by sounds and lights? My
inability to read people's
faces?" He sits up, his
frustration palpable. "Don't
you get it, Chip? This isn't
something I can just 'turn
on' or 'turn off'. It's my
reality, my every day. And
Timmy...Timmy might be fine
with playing games about his,
but I'm NOT." His voice is
heavy with pain.

Chip's heart feels like it's in
his throat. He's never seen
his dad like this, so raw
and exposed. He opens his
mouth to speak but nothing
comes out. Plankton's words
hang in the air like a
challenge, demanding to be
heard.

"Dad," he finally says, his
voice trembling. "I'm sorry if
I made it seem like a joke. I
just...I just wanted to show
you that you're not alone."
He holds up the book, his
hands shaking. "Timmy's not
alone either. And neither are
you." He takes a deep breath.
"Maybe we could find our
own way to make your
autism feel like a su—"

But Plankton's had enough.
He stands, his small frame
trembling with frustration.
"I don't need your pity,
Chip," he says, his voice
sharp. "I need you to
understand that this isn't
some game. This is my life!"

With a sudden burst of
strength, Plankton snatches
the book from Chip's
hands. Chip's eyes
widen in shock, watching
his dad's anger manifest
physically as he tears the
pages one by one. "This is not
who I am!" Plankton says,
his voice shaking with each
ripping sound. "I'm not a
character for you to relate
to or feel good about!" Karen
stands there, frozen, her hand
covering her mouth in shock as
Plankton throws the book
across the room.

The silence that
follows is deafening. Chip's
screen is wet with tears,
his chest tight. He's never
seen his dad this way before—
so raw and so hurt. He
swallows hard, trying to find
the right words. "Dad, I--"

But Plankton holds up
his hand. "Just...just go,"
he says, his voice hoarse.
Chip picks up the torn book
on his way out.

new to change the world boook chip

(っ ᐛ )っ🥔◛

new eating crisp consume ingest crispy chip

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 15
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ 
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ 
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. 
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ 
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ 
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ 
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ

The contents are a treasure
trove of textures and sounds:
fidget toys, a squishy ball,
a piece of fabric with different
patterns. Chip reaches out to touch.
"Can I try?" Plankton's antennae still, his
eye watching Chip intently.
"Careful," Karen warns, her
voice a gentle reminder of the
importance of respect.

Chip picks up a smooth stone,
turning it over in his hand.
"This toy helps him calm down?"
he asks, his voice filled with
wonder. Karen nods. "Whenever
his mind gets too crowded, he
holds onto it, feels its coolness."
"Mom, like this?" Chip says.
"Just like that," she smiles.

But Chip's curiosity gets the
better of him. He starts to juggle
the sensory items, his eyes
sparkling with mischief. "Look,
Dad, I'm just like you!" he says,
trying to relate. "I'm autistic too!
Tick tick.."

Plankton's antennae shoot
up, his eye wide with shock
and hurt as he then abruptly
leaves the room without
a single word, slamming
the door hard, his eye
welling up with tears.

Karen sighs, her screen
filling with disappointment.
Chip looks up, his screen 
reflecting confusion.

"Chip," she says gently, "What
you just did was not okay."
Karen's eyes are on him,
her expression a mix of
concern and anger. "What you
just did," she says, her voice
firm, "is called bullying."
Chip's screen flickers with
shock. "What?" he asks.
"You used your dad's
autism as a joke," Karen says,
her voice tight with frustration.
"It's not funny, Chip."

He looks down at his hands,
his mind racing. "But I just
wanted to be like him,"
he whispers, his voice
small. "I didn't mean to
hurt him, I wanted to
relate, to make him smile.."

Karen's screens dim, her
heart aching for her son.
"I know," she says, her voice
soft. "But sometimes,
our intentions don't match
our actions." She pauses.
"Do you know how that felt
for him?" "No," he murmurs, 
eyes on the closed door. "I just..."

But Karen's expression is
unyielding. "You need to think
about others, Chip. Especially
those who can't always tell
you how they feel." She sighs.
"You're his son. You need
to support him, not mock him."
Her words are a gentle scolding,
a lesson in empathy. Chip's
shoulders slump, his screen
reflecting his guilt.

He looks at the closed door,
his mind racing with regret.
He didn't mean to hurt his dad.
He just wanted to understand.

Karen's voice is a gentle guide.
"Chip, autism isn't
a game or a trick to mimic.
What you did was hurtful,
even if you didn't mean it."

Chip's eyes are on the
closed door, his mind racing.
"But I just wanted to..."
his voice trails off.

Karen's screens light up with
patience. "I know, love," she says.
"Yet we all make mistakes.
It's how we learn from them
that counts."

Chip nods, his heart heavy.
He didn't mean to bully his dad,
but now he sees the error of his ways.
"How do I fix it?" he asks, his voice
barely above a whisper.

Karen sighs, her eyes on the
closed door. "First," she says,
"you need to understand that
his feelings are real, even if
you don't see them the same way."

Chip nods, his screen
reflecting his newfound
understanding. "I'm sorry,"
he says, his voice earnest.
"I didn't mean to..."

Karen's screens dim, her heart
full of compassion. "I know,"
she says, her hand on his shoulder.
"But we all learn. The important
thing is to do better next time."
Karen says, going out into the
living room to check on Plankton.

Plankton is sitting on the couch,
his antennae drooped, his body
still. He's staring into space,
his usual bubbly demeanor
nowhere to be seen. "Plankton?"
she calls out softly. He doesn't
move. She approaches, her
movements deliberate and slow,
not wanting to startle him.
"Plankton, honey," she says,
her voice a gentle caress.
"Are you okay?"

He doesn't respond, his eye
fixed on a spot on the wall.
Karen sighs, her screens
reflecting a mix of concern
and understanding. This isn't
the first time he's retreated
like this. She knows his mind
is a whirlwind of thoughts,
his senses overwhelmed by the
world around him. "Plankton?"
Her voice is a soft touch,
trying to break through
his isolation. She sits beside
her husband.

His antennae twitch, a tiny
sign that he's heard her.
"I'm here," she says, her hand
on his back. "Do you want
to talk about it?"
Plankton's eye flickers to her,
his antennae still drooped.
He's silent, his mouth a tight line.
Karen knows this look.
It's the look of someone
trying to find words that
won't come. "You don't have to,"
she says, her voice a warm embrace.
"But I'm here."

He takes a deep breath,
his chest rising and falling.
"Chip," he finally says,
his voice strained. "I don't
know how to explain it."
Karen nods, her screens flickering
with empathy. "It's okay,"
she says. "You don't have to."
But Plankton's eye is
on the floor, his gaze
unfocused. "Chip, tick tick..." 
He starts again,
his voice cracking.
Karen's screens flicker with
sympathy. She knows the pain
their son caused.
"Plankton," she says softly.
"I know, love," she whispers.
"I know."

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his body tightening. "Why?"
He looks up at her, his
eye pleading. "Why would he?"
"Because he's still learning,"
she says gently. "And we're here
to he--" Karen trails off as Chip
meets them in the living
room, approaching them.
His screen is filled with
apology. "Dad," he says, his
voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry.
I didn't know." Plankton's antennae
raise slightly, his gaze shifting
to Chip. "Chip hurt, no funny,"
he says, his voice flat.

Chip nods, his screen
reflecting his understanding.
"I'm sorry, Dad," he says, his
voice barely a whisper. Plankton's
eye stays on him, his antennae
quivering slightly. "I didn't know
it was like that for you. I'm just trying
to underst--"

But Plankton cuts him off,
his antennae shooting up.
"Don't," he says, his voice sharp.
"Don't pretend you get it. You never
will." His eye is cold, his antennae
rigid. Chip's screen flickers with
pain.

Karen's screens dim, her heart
heavy. "Plankton," she says softly,
but her husband turns away. "I don't
want him here," he says, his voice
filled with anger. "He doesn't
understand. He doesn't care."

Chip's screen flickers with
disbelief. "Dad," he says, his voice
shaking. "That's not true." Plankton's
gaze meets his son's, but the warmth
is gone, replaced by a coldness
Chip has never seen before. "I'm
not going to give you closure Chip.."

Karen's screens flash with
alarm. "Plankton, no," she says, her voice
desperate. But Plankton's solely on
his son. "You think you can play
games with me?" he says. "Yo--"

But Chip's had enough. "I'm not playing
games!" he yells, his voice startling
Plankton. It's to loud. "I'm trying to he-"

Plankton's antennae shoot up, his eye
wide with fear and anger. "Chip, please,"
Karen says, her voice urgent. But Chip
doesn't realize the intensity of his 
father's reaction.

"I just wanted to help!" Chip's voice
cracks, not knowing he's being to loud.
Plankton's body stiffens, his antennae
quivering rapidly. "No," he says,
his voice low and harsh. "Stop; please.."

new autism and all bullycore chip

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 17
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ 
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ 
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. 
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ 
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ 
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ 
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ

Karen's eyes are filled with love
and understanding. Plankton
slowly nods, his antennae dropping.
"I'm sorry," Chip says, his voice
barely a whisper.

But Plankton's antennae shoot
up, his eye cold. "You need to go,"
he says, his voice firm. Chip's screen
flickers with hurt. "What?"
he asks, his voice shaking.
Plankton's gaze is unyielding.
"I don't want you here," he says.
"Not right now." His words are like
a dagger to Chip's heart, but
Karen's screens flicker with a
message of patience. "Dad, what
do you mea-"

But Plankton cuts him off,
his antennae rigid. "I mean it,"
he says, his voice hard. "I don't
want you here." Chip's screen
reflects confusion and pain.
He doesn't understand. "But why?"
he asks. "We're fa-"

"Don't," Plankton says, his voice
sharp. "Don't pretend to care."
His eye is cold, his antennae
quivering with anger. "You made
fun of me. You think my world
is a joke." Chip's screen flickers
with confusion and guilt. "Dad,
no," he says, his voice shaking. "That's
not what I meant." But Plankton's
not listening, his words cutting
through the air like shards of
glass. "You think you know," he says,
his voice rising. "But you don't. You
can't. You're not like me."

Karen's screens are a
swirl of emotions, her heart
aching for both her son and
her husband. "Plankton, please,"
she says, her voice a gentle
plea. But he's not listening.
He's too lost in his own
hurt, his own frustration.
"You think you can just play
along?" he says, turning to Chip.
"You think it's that easy?"
Chip's screen shows his fear
growing, his mind racing. He didn't
mean to hurt his dad, but now
he feels like he's being pushed
away. "Dad, I'm sorry," he says,
his voice barely a whisper. "I just
made a mis-"

"Mistake? Hah. The only
mistake was thinking
you could ever understand!"
Plankton's words are a harsh
reminder of their earlier
misunderstanding. Chip's screen
reflects his hurt, his eyes
filling with tears. "You think
you can just pretend?"
Plankton continues, his voice
bitter. "You think you know what
it's like to be me?" His antennae
wave wildly in accusation.

Chip's voice is barely a squeak.
"I just wanted to help, Dad,"
he says, his screen a jumble
of sadness and confusion.
"But you didn't," Plankton
says, his voice cold. "You 
hurt me. And I can't just
shake it off." Karen's screens
flicker with pain for her husband,
but she knows Plankton's anger
is a shield, a way to protect
his tender heart.

"You don't get it," Plankton
continues, his antennae jutting
forward. "You think you can
just pretend to understand?"
His words are a knife in the dark,
twisting in Chip's gut. "Dad,"
Chip says, his voice trembling.
"I'm sorry. I'll do better. I'll
learn." But Plankton's eye
narrows, his antennae waving.
"It's not about you," he says,
his voice harsh. "It's never been.
You don't get to cry victim. I can
forgive accidentally touching me
and such, but this... I can't.
I saw you mocking me. I heard you
laughing." Chip's eyes widen.
"No," he says, his voice desperate.
"I didn't mean t---"

But Plankton's not listening.
"You think because you're sorry,
everything's okay and 
make it go away? You don't
get to decide that," he says, his voice
shaking. "You don't get to tell me
how I feel. Because right now, you
don't understand a thing. You're
not a part of this. You're not
being a good son. And I don't
think I can trust you."

The words hit Chip like a wave,
his screen flashing with disbelief.
He feels like he's drowning,
his mind racing for a way to
make it right. "Dad, I'm sorry,"
he says again, his voice choked
with tears. "I'll do anything.
I'll learn, I'll change." But
Plankton's antennae droop, his
body defeated. "It's too late,"
he murmurs. "You had your
chance. But honestly, I don't think
you'll ever be the son I need."

Karen's screens pulse with pain,
seeing the rift between
them grow wider. She knows
how much Plankton values trust,
how hard it is for him to give it
once it's been shattered.

Chip's screen flickers with
desperation. "Dad, I'll be here," 
he begs, whimpering. "I'll try anyth—"

But Plankton's antennae are
rigid with finality. "No," he says,
his voice barely above a whisper.
"I now know better than to let
you in again. I hoped we'd be 
closer, but now I... I don't think
you belong in my life, Chip."

The words hang in the air,
each one heavier than the last.
Chip's screen is a whirlwind
of emotions: guilt, sadness,
fear. "Dad," he says, his voice
a broken plea. "Please, I'll do
better. I promise." But Plankton's
gaze is unyielding. "I'm letting go
Chip. We're done now. You'll never
be the son I adored again. You
failed to accept me, so I won't
accept your façade. So good
bye, Chip. I hope you find peace.."
Plankton then turns around, leaving
Karen and Chip in the living room
as he walked down the hall.
Chip's eyes are wide with shock,
his screen flickering with tears.

Karen's screens dim with sadness
as she looks at her son. "Chip,"
she says, her voice gentle. "It's not
you. It's just his way of coping."
But Chip's not listening. He's
thinking about the moments
his dad's eyes had lit up, the
times Plankton had laughed,
his antennae waving with joy.
And now, it's gone, replaced by
a coldness that scares him.

He tries to imagine what it's like
for Plankton, to live in a world
that's too loud, too bright, too
much. A world where even the
smallest touch can send him spiraling.
Where every interaction is a minefield
of misunderstandings. And he wonders
how he could have missed the signs.
How could he have hurt his father so
much without even realizing it?

new autism and all familycore chip

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████████████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███████████████▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒█████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████████▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒████████████▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒████▒▒▓▓█████▓▒▓████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒████████████▒▒▒██████▓▒▒▓███▒▒▓██████▒▒▒▓███████████▓▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒████████████▒▒▒██████▓▒▒▓███▒▒▒██████▓▒▒▓████████████▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒████████████▓▒▓███████▓▓████▓▓████████▓▓█████████████▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒█████████████▒▓███████▓▒▓███▓▒▓███████▒▒▓████████████▓▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒████████████▒▒▒███████▒▒▒███▒▒▒███████▒▒▒████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓███████████▒▒▒███████▒▒▒███▓▒▒██████▓▒▒▒████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓████████████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓██▓▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒████▒▒▒▓██████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████▓▒▒███▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓█▓▒▓███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
█████▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒█████▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒███████▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▓█████▓▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒█████████▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▓███████▓▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓██████████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████▓▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓██▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▓█████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████▓▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█████▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▓▓██████▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███████████████▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███▓█▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓██▓▓███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▓█▓▓▓█▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓█▓▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
██▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓█▒█▓▓▓▓▓██▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓█▓█▓▓▓▓▓██████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓█▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓█▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓█▒█▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓█▓█▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▓▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓█████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓█████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒█▓▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓▓▓▓█▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓█▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▒█▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▓█▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓██▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

new Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Chip Plankton II chip

♫₊˚.🎧 ✧💬

new talk chat speak cute blab out

🤖🎲

new chip microprocessor potato chip

y’all stop hating on quina she ain’t do nothin 😭😭 shes a really nice person so stop!!! 
#justiceforquina

new QuinasChat chat QuinaTheAxolotl cute nice friendly justice drama beef tea dox chit-chat

╭┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╮
┆  ⮿ 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜                                                                                      ┆
┆╭┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╮┆
┆┆・                                                                                             ┆┆
┆┆・                                                                                             ┆┆
┆┆・                                                                                             ┆┆
┆┆・                                                                                             ┆┆
┆┆・                                                                                             ┆┆
┆╰┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╯┆
╰┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╯
No credit needed! Search raycast_rae for more!

new bio aesthetic line chat chatroom rules chat room deco raycast_rae server

💋

new gossip rumor chat berry ave rumour talk

💐

new microchip chip

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█████▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓██████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒█▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░░▒█▓░░░▓▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░▓▓▓▓░░░▓
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████▒▒░░▓█████████████▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░▓▓▓▓▓▓░░░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████▓▒▒▒░▓█████████████▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░▒█▓▓░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████▓▒▒▒░▓█████████████▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░▓▓▓▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒█░░░░░░░░░░░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████▒▒▒▒░█████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒█░░░░░░░░░░░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▒░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒█░░░░░▓▓▓▓▓▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░░▓▓▓▒░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒█░░░░▓▓▓▓▓▓▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░▒█▓▓███▒░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒█▓▓▓▓▓░░░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░▒▓▓▒░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▒██████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒░░▒▓▓░░░░
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▓▓▓▓▓▓░░░░░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░▓░░░░▓▒░░░▓
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▓░░▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓▓▒░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████████████████████████▓████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░▒▒▒▒░░░░▓▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░▓██▓░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░█▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░▒▓░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓░▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░▓▓░░▒▓▒░▒▓█▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░▓█▓█▒░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░▓▓░░▒▓▓██▓▓▒▒░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░▓▓░░██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▓▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▓▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░▒█▒▒▒▓▓▓░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▓▒▓▓▒░░░░▓▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓███▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

new code page 437 chip plankton chip

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠸⣇⡀⠀⠈⠑⠢⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡏⠓⠦⢤⣤⣀⣀⢀⣠⣄⣾⡧⠴⠤⠶⠿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠒⠤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠦⢛⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠋⠀⠀⣺⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡴⣛⠷⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢡⠘⠠⢐⢠⡚⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⢀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠻⢭⣏⡳⢽⣩⢟⣼⡽⠃⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⢁⠒⡠⠡⠑⢂⠹⡀⠀⠀⠐⣶⢫⣗⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⣴⠮⣝⣧⡳⣎⢯⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠤⢑⠌⠢⠀⠉⠀⠀⠐⠛⠓⠾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡎⣿⢀⠼⠲⣀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣹⣿⣅⡀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠶⠿⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡇⠀⠀⠘⠾⠙⠉⠀⠑⠻⠺⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⠴⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⢘⣡⠴⠂⠛⠁⠀⣼⠏⢁⠆⢈⢿⣆⣀⣾⡃⣠⠋⡠⢹⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⣁⡴⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣆⠃⡠⠃⣸⡟⠉⠹⣧⣀⣔⣡⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡷⣲⡶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠊⢡⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠓⠶⠛⠋⠀⢤⡀⠀⠉⠉⠁⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⣷⡗⠺⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠉⠀⡴⠃⢀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⣀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡗⠢⢀⠀⠀⣈⢦⡙⣢⡤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣯⣴⣴⣾⣯⣧⣄⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠒⢰⢤⣀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠈⠲⣄⡀⠀⢟⠀⠀⣨⣽⠷⠚⣹⣿⣷⡀⡟⠉⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠞⠋⠀⣠⡞⠁⠀⠀⢉⠓⠠⢸⡄⠰⠟⠋⢰⠖⢟⠛⠛⣳⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠧⠄⠤⠤⠄⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡶⢆⡉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠹⣎⡐⠨⢂⠰⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⣠⠼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠐⠢⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡞⠋⠹⠖⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠹⡀⢨⠓⠒⠤⠤⠀⠤⠬⡢⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠶⢀⣀⠤⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⠙⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢱⣋⣀⡀⠀⠀⠈⠒⠁⠀⡜⠈⠁⢒⡖⠒⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡖⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠖⢃⣿⠟⠉⢀⣠⣤⠀⠀⢀⡼⠁⢀⡴⠋⣀⡤⣤⣤⣤⢤⡴⠦⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⢶⠏⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠦⣤⡤⠴⠋⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠶⠋⣀⠜⠀⣿⣿⡇⢀⣤⣋⣀⣀⠩⣥⠞⣿⣀⣿⠋⣠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠙⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠷⣤⣤⣤⡤⢴⣖⡻⣍⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣀⡀⠈⠀⣀⣀⣘⣯⢒⣏⣀⠠⠤⠄⢮⡁⢌⣿⣿⣿⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⢯⣝⢻⡴⣓⢮⡝⣣⢞⡵⣻⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠙⣼⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠂⢰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⣝⡳⣎⢷⣚⡭⢶⣙⢧⡻⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠐⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⢀⠀⡤⠦⣄⠀⢯⠤⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⡧⠆⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡟⣼⢣⢷⡹⣎⢧⢏⡳⣝⢮⣷⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠲⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⣴⣁⠤⠸⡝⠈⣇⠀⢀⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠁⠀⢾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⣣⢟⣬⢳⢏⡞⣭⠞⣭⢳⡝⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⣻⠟⠋⠉⠁⢹⡒⢀⠲⡄⠹⡄⢀⡠⠓⠉⠀⠀⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⣼⢣⣏⢮⣛⢮⡝⣮⡝⣮⣓⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣫⢷⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⢦⠤⢀⣀⣀⣀⠠⠔⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⢀⣇⣽⣤⡽⠁⠀⠀⢀⡤⢊⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⡀⠀⠀⢀⣼⢳⡝⣎⠷⣎⢷⡹⣎⢾⡱⣞⣵⠋⠀⠀⠀⣰⠿⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢾⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠤⠀⣄⠀⣀⣀⡀⣀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⡿⢋⣀⣤⣤⣾⣇⢀⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⣛⢦⡴⣫⢞⣣⡝⣮⢻⣜⣣⠷⣹⠶⣹⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣯⠟⠍⠁⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⡹⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢆⠀⠂⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠿⣿⣿⣯⢞⡵⢫⢶⡹⣎⢷⣚⣬⣛⣥⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⢿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⢀⣎⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⢮⡝⣏⢶⡹⣎⢷⣚⡴⢳⢮⡹⢷⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠴⠁⡒⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⢁⡸⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⡜⣧⣛⡼⣣⢯⡜⡯⢶⡹⢧⡞⡽⣧⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠋⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⢸⣷⣿⠀⠀⠀⠰⡌⠑⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢶⡱⡳⣝⢶⡹⣝⣣⠟⣶⣙⢧⣝⣳⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠃⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠘⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⢯⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⡠⠔⠋⣿⣿⡟⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠹⣿⣿⣮⢳⣝⣚⢮⡵⣋⢶⣛⢦⡻⣜⡞⣴⠻⣷⡀⢀⣴⠿⠛⠛⣦
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢀⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢸⡞⠁⢀⠤⠊⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣷⠀⣀⡀⠠⠄⠒⠀⠑⡆⠀⠀⠻⣿⡗⣯⢲⡝⣮⢳⣽⣾⡿⢿⣷⣷⣽⡎⣟⡼⣷⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⢠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⢿⣿⡇⠀⢀⠤⣄⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣳⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⡜⣧⢻⡜⣧⣿⢻⣜⡳⣞⣬⡛⣿⣼⣿⣛⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠾⡽⠋⡜⠈⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡈⠻⡆⠀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⣜⢧⡻⡼⣿⢳⢎⡗⢾⣰⢻⡜⣻⠧⣝⡞⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢤⡀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠀⠀⢀⣠⡴⢾⣭⡛⣷⢰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⡇⠀⠀⠉⠢⢄⣠⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡿⢎⡷⣙⣿⣿⡮⡽⣧⣽⡮⣝⣱⢻⡜⣞⡹⣷⡀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢘⣧⠀⣜⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⠶⣜⢯⢳⣎⣭⢳⣽⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡗⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⢀⡀⠤⠐⠂⠉⠻⣵⠺⣵⢫⣽⡟⣧⡅⠉⢹⣧⠙⠙⠚⢵⣫⠷⣹⣇⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠭⣴⢸⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⢞⡶⢭⡻⣜⣫⢖⡳⣮⠗⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠸⠀⠤⠄⠐⠂⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⢶⣫⢟⡲⢯⡼⣇⠈⠛⢷⣸⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠧⣿⡄⢰
⠀⠀⢀⣄⣘⢦⡬⠔⠒⠒⠻⠿⠧⠤⠤⡴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⢧⡗⣮⢏⡳⣧⡸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣤⣶⣾⣯⣳⢭⣖⣫⢵⣫⠞⣿⡈⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣼
⠀⢀⣾⣿⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠛⠱⢿⣃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣧⣤⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣷⣾⡜⡶⣭⢻⡜⣧⡀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃
⠒⠈⠀⣠⣴⣆⣄⡼⡠⢞⣱⣦⢶⣆⠀⠀⠉⠃⠦⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢴⠏⠀⠈⠁⠃⠴⡤⠤⢀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⢻⡝⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣭⣛⢿⣷⣧⡻⣼⢹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀
⡩⠔⠀⢣⣚⠷⠉⣫⣄⡠⠀⠀⠀⣨⢦⠐⢪⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣧⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠁⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢧⣻⡱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢶⡹⢞⡼⣛⢿⣷⣯⣞⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠞⠁⠀⠀
⣀⣀⣀⡅⢸⡦⣤⢤⠤⣔⢶⣺⠟⢀⣈⠆⠘⠰⠽⢏⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠋⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠞⣥⢳⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣭⣯⢞⡹⣞⡲⣭⣛⡟⡿⣟⠲⠶⠚⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣴⣡⣡⡜⡷⡽⠻⣿⡟⢾⡾⡧⠆⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡖⣒⠞⠀⠀⢀⡠⠖⠁⢀⣰⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣛⣼⣧⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢎⣗⣣⡝⡶⢭⡞⣵⢫⡶⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣾⢇⣿⣿⣿⣦⣾⣷⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠞⠁⡀⠤⠒⠉⢀⡤⣖⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣽⠃⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⠎⣶⠽⣭⣳⣞⡥⠿⡼⠛⠷⠦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣸⡝⣞⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠽⣚⠩⠄⢂⣑⠈⠤⠒⠊⠁⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⡀⣀⢠⣌⡁⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢀⡷⠝⢚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠰⡖⠛⠘⠓⠒⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠔⠙⠻⠿⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new zipward zip x edward fpe fundemental paper education zip fpe zip chip edward zipster edward fpe chip fpe

|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|
|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|
|                                                                |
|                                                                |
|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|
|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|

OREO

🕹️

new approach peel chip approximate

🤕❤️‍🩹

new go bad break off reveal break cut off chip go cute worse break away

* ੈ ♡ ⸝⸝🪐 ༘ ⋆

new hot chip summer

hey guys.. im so sorry but pls stop sending
me friend requests on instagram ! !
I already stated there that i only
friend irls . . ( ˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ🌧️) so sorry ! !
- 🌧️ a

new am3dama srs chat sorry stop

꧁ ༺chip ༻ ꧂🍬₊˚⊹♡

new chip potato chip

I need kpop ggs friends to yaps with please add my ( dc kairlt ), i had no friends.. ㅠㅠ
heres the simbols!

 ♱   ۶ৎ  𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟   .☘︎ ݁˖   o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅　  ≧ ≦

ˇ ˇ　 ◜◝　   ◡◡⁠　 •̀  •́　 ^^　 ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀　  ꈍ ꈍ

⏑ ⏑　 ◝ ◜　 _ ̫ _　 •́ •̀　 ⊳⊲　 o̴̶̷̤ o̴̶̷̤　  ˃̶̤́  ˂̶̤̀
  ߹ ߹　 ՞ ՞⁠　 ಠ ಠ　 ᴗ͈ ᴗ͈

new befriend friendship chatter lover lesbians sm entertainment pop music cute talk chitchat love chat conversation happiness dialogue relationship affection partnership speak

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡶⠒⠒⠲⣤⣀⣀⣠⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣁⣀⠀⠆⠀⢀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠏⠀⢀⡤⠖⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⣾⠋⠰⡀⠈⠙⢷⡄⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠤⣴⠃⠀⠀⠈⢿⡄⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢶⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⢀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⢠⣆⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⣠⣟⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢀⣴⣾⣛⠤⣤⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡾⠋⠠⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠟⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠙⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣼⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⢸⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣲⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣀⠘⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⢻⣿⣷⣾⣶⣶⣦⣤⣴⣾⣧⣄⣀⡤⠖⠋⠉⠹⣳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠋⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⡷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⡀⠀⠁
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⠃⢸⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠀⠀⢻⣌⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡈⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⡟⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡆⡆⠀⠀⠀⠁⠈⣧⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣼⣿⣿⠇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀
⠀⠀⢀⣼⡧⠤⠶⠦⢼⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⣡⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢸⡇
⠀⣰⡿⠋⠁⠒⢤⡀⠀⠘⢿⠛⢳⣄⣀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣧⠤⠶⠤⢼⡁⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢸⡇
⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢆⠀⢸⠗⠋⣉⠈⠉⠛⢿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⢧⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⣼⠃
⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⣯⠊⠁⠈⠙⠢⡀⠀⠙⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠯⣷⣄⣀⣀⣥⡾⠃⠀
⠀⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢆⠀⠀⠈⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠘⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢆⠀⠀⠀⠑⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣤⣤⣤⣤⠾⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠁⣠⣼⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⠶⠦⠤⠶⠧⠾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⠀⠀

new chat small talk teddy dot art text art ascii art

0"XOR(if(now()=sysdate(),sleep(15),0))XOR"Z

Copy & Paste Ableisms Emojis & Symbols

Related Text & Emojis