Boron Emojis & Text

⭐⚛✡🌌💫☝

yall do know theres some nsfw things on here? but, the drama 💀 ✮⋆˙ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

🌬💨🫁🧖

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖🫀∞

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⣤⣶⣶⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⣶⣶⣶⠄⠀⠀⠐⢶⣶⣶⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣷⠦⠀ ⠙⠏⠁⠀⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣒⢳⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡞⣒⣲⣶⣖⣶⣦⡀⠀⠉⠛⠁ ⠀⠀⠴⢯⣁⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⡀⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⣼⣋⣿⣿⣿⣦⣭⠷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⢰⠏⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⡴⠟⠁⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡗⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠖⠚⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ tu aimes jouer à roblox ?🎮ඞ👑🤪🕹️👾▶🎙⏯😫🤩

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❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠸⣷⡜⢻⣤⡙⢷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⡟⣿⣷⣿⡿⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⣈⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣧⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⣿⣿⣿⠯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠻⠶⠤⠀⠉⠙⠛⠿⢷⣦⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣿⡟⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣦⠹⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣿⣟⣋⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡙⠳⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⢺⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣤⣩⣝⡛⠶⢦⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⡟⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⣴⣾⠟⣿⣿⣹⠦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡀⠉⠉⠿⢷⣶⢻⣦⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣴⣶⡾⠿⣛⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠯⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣀⣀⣤⣶⢿⣛⣉⣭⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠷⣭⠵⣶⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠯⠿⡽⢯⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠉⣉⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠟⠛⠂⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠐⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠋⠛⠛⠉⠛⠟⠛⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠠⣙⡛⠙⠃⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⠀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

˚｡⋆୨≽^•⩊•^≼୧⋆ ˚｡

💦💧🌊꩜𖦹༄

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY iii (Autistic author) "It's okay, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his voice soothing. "We're just going for a walk. Nothing to worry about." The three of them walked in silence for a while, the only sounds the lapping of the waves and the occasional squawk of a seagull. Karen could feel the tension, and she wondered what was going on inside his head. As they neared the jellyfish fields Sponge Bob perked up. "Hey, Plankton, you remember jellyfishing right?" He asked, his tone hopeful. Plankton's antennae stopped the nervous twitching for a moment. "Jellyfishing," he murmured, the memory sparking a glimmer of interest. "Jellyfish sting." Sponge Bob's smile grew wider. "Yeah, but it's fun, right?" He said trying to keep the conversation light. Karen could see the effort in his eyes and felt a pang of guilt for ever thinking poorly of him. "Jellyfish... fun," Plankton repeated, his voice still flat. Sponge Bob looked at him, his smile fading slightly. "Yeah, jellyfishing's the best!" he said trying to keep the energy up. "Remember all the good times we had?" Plankton nodded, his gaze distant. "Good times," he echoed. Sponge Bob's smile faltered, and he shot a questioning glance at Karen. "Is everything ok with Plankton?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. Karen took and squeezed Plankton's hand. "Hold on, Sponge Bob," she said gently. "Plankton, can you find us a rock? A pretty sparkly rock." Plankton's gaze snapped to hers, and she could see the gears turning in his head. He nodded, his antennae tilting slightly. "Find rock," he said, before going in the familiar jellyfish fields. Sponge Bob watched him go, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Is Plankton ok Karen?" he asked. "He's just... different now," Karen said, voice tight with emotion. "He had an accident, and the doctor says he has acquired autism." Sponge Bob's eyes went wide. "Hey I think I have that, too! But what does that mean for Plankton?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. "It means he's going to need some help," Karen said, her voice calm and measured. "He'll still be the same Plankton we know, but his brain works differently now." Sponge Bob's eyes searched hers, trying to understand. "Different like how?" Karen took a deep breath. "Well, he might repeat what we say," she began, watching Plankton as he picked up rocks and examined them. "It's called echolalia. It's a way for him to process language now." Sponge Bob's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh, like a parrot!" he exclaimed, nodding. Karen chuckled, despite the heaviness of the situation. "Sort of," she said, "but it's more than just repeating words. It's how he processes information now." Sponge Bob watched Plankton, who had found a particularly shiny rock and was now examining it with intense focus. "What else, Karen?" he asked. Karen took a deep breath, trying to explain as best she could. "Sometimes, Plankton might need more time to understand what people are saying to him." Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton. "How might he act?" Karen sighed, looking at the ocean. "Well, sometimes he might get overwhelmed by sounds, lights, or even textures," she said. "It's like his senses are on overload. Although he'll have it for the rest of his life, he can potentially improve his skills. It happened yesterday, I don't think you were working but Krabs hit Plankton's head.." Sponge Bob's expression grew serious, and he nodded solemnly. "I'm really sorry to hear that, Karen," he said, his eyes filled with genuine empathy. "Plankton's always been pretty tough, but I won't let Mr. Krabs know." Plankton returned with the sparkly rock, his gaze still a bit unfocused. "Pretty rock," he said, holding it out to Karen. Karen took the rock. "Thank you, Plankton," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "Good find," Sponge Bob added, giving him an encouraging thumbs-up. The walk continued, yet a distant wail of a boat's horn created a symphony that seemed to overwhelm him. He stopped, his antennae flattening against his head, his eye wide with distress. "Too loud," he murmured, his voice strained. Karen noticed Plankton's agitation. They guided him to a nearby bench, and he sat, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, rocking back and forth. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothed, her voice calm. "Just breathe, darling." Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his antennae quivering. "What's wrong, Plankton?" SpongeBob asked, voice filled with concern. Plankton didn't respond, his eye squeezed shut as he hummed a tune to himself. Karen and Sponge Bob sat beside him, giving him space and waiting for the overwhelming sound to pass. After a few moments, the boat's horn ceased and Plankton's breathing began to even out. He looks up, gaze still slightly unfocused. "Plankton ok now?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice gentle. Karen nodded. "I think so," she said, watching Plankton's antennae slowly untangle from their protective pose. "Sounds can be really intense for him now." Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. "We'll keep it down then," he said, his voice a whisper. Karen smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Sponge Bob," she said. "It means a lot." They sat for a few more moments, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore acting as a soothing lullaby for Plankton. Finally, he spoke up, his voice still flat. "Home now," he said, his eye still on the horizon. Karen nodded. "Alright, let's go home," she said, her voice gentle. "SpongeBob?" Plankton asks, wanting him to come with. Sponge Bob looks to Karen, who nods with a grateful smile. "We'd love for you to come, Sponge Bob," she says. "We can all help each other understand." Plankton's gaze immediately falls on a biology book that's been lying on the coffee table, half open to a page about jellyfish. His antennae start twitching rapidly, and he picks it up with a new found interest. "Look, Karen," he says, his voice filled with excitement as he points to a picture of a jellyfish. "Jellyfish." Karen nods. "Yes, Plankton," she says gently. "That's a jellyfish." Plankton opens the book wider, eye scanning the pages with a fervor that was almost palpable. His antennae quivered with excitement as he absorbed every piece of information he could find about jellyfish. It was as if he had found a new obsession, a puzzle to solve that could potentially drown out the cacophony of the world around him. "Jellyfish," he murmurs to himself, his eye scanning the text. "Jellyfish sting. Jellyfish pretty." Sponge Bob's curiosity peaks, and he leans over to look at the page Plankton is fixated on. "Jellyfish, huh?" He says, his voice soft so as not to disturb Plankton's focus. Karen nods. "It's like he's trying to make sense of everything again," she explains. "It's one of his special interests now." Sponge Bob nods. Karen watches as Plankton traces the outline of a jellyfish with his hand. "It's called hyper fixation," she explains. "It's when extremely focused on something to the point where it's almost all he can think about." Sponge Bob nods thoughtfully. "Well, Plankton I see you like the book of jellyfish?" Plankton nods, his antennae still quivering with excitement. "Jellyfish book," he murmurs, his eye never leaving the page. Sponge Bob nods, a smile spreading across his face. "I can see you really love jellyfish, Plankton," he says, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM iii (Autistic author) Inside, she sets him down on their favorite couch, the one with the frayed edges and the squeaky spring that always reminded them of their first date. The room is cluttered with half-finished inventions and plans for Krabby Patty heists. She sits beside him. The silence stretches on, heavier than a net full of anchovies. Plankton's antennas twitch, his eye darting around the room, taking in the chaos. Karen's mind is racing, wondering if he recognizes any of it, if it brings back any memories of their life together. "Home," he murmurs, his voice filled with uncertainty. The room feels smaller, more cramped than she remembered, as if the walls are closing in on them. "Do you like it here?" she asks, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks around, his antennas moving slightly as he processes his surroundings. "Home," he says again, his voice a mix of curiosity and confusion. The room is a jumble of wires, gadgets, and half-eaten chum sticks. Karen's with tears as she realizes how much she's taken for granted their life together. She had always loved Plankton's quirks and his boundless energy, but now his mind seemed to be stuck in a loop, unable to move beyond the basic functions of acknowledgment. "Home," Plankton says again, his antennas drooping. "Home with Karen." The repetition of the words stirs something within Karen. Echolalia, the doctor had called it, a common trait in those with autism. It was Plankton's way of trying to understand the world around him, to find comfort in familiar words and phrases. "Yes," she whispers, her throat tight with emotion. "This is our home." The room seems to shrink around them as Plankton's echolalic chant of "home with Karen" repeats in a soothing loop. Each time he says it, Karen feels a pang of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he was finding comfort in the simplicity of their life together. "Home with Karen," he says again, his antennas slightly more animated. Karen nods, brimming with tears. "Yes, Plankton, we're home." But she sees a flicker of distress in his eye. "Sponge Bob," he whispers, his antennas quivering with urgency. "Where's Sponge Bob?" Karen's heart squeezes at the mention of him. "Sponge Bob's not here right now," she says, choosing her words carefully. "But he'll come to visit." Plankton's antennas shoot up, his eye wide. "Sponge Bob," he repeats, his voice gaining strength. "Friend. Need Sponge Bob." The desperation in his tone is heart-wrenching, and Karen knows she needs to act fast to soothe his anxiety. "Ok, ok," she says, her voice calm. "Let's call Sponge Bob." Karen picks up the phone, her hands shaking slightly as she dials the familiar number. The phone rings once, twice, before it's answered by a cheerful voice. "Karen?" Sponge Bob's voice sounds surprised but concerned. "Is everything ok?" Karen takes a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's Plankton," she says. "He's asking for you to come over." There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Plankton? But we're... I mean?" Sponge Bob's voice is filled with confusion. Karen's with desperation as she watches Plankton rock back and forth on the couch, his chant growing louder. "Sponge Bob. Need Sponge Bob." "Please, Sponge Bob," she pleads, her voice cracking. Sponge Bob's voice on the other end of the line softens. "Of course, Karen. I'll be right over." The line goes dead, and Karen hangs up the phone, feeling a tiny spark of hope. Plankton's cries for Sponge Bob have become more insistent, his rocking more pronounced. She gently places a hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. "Sponge Bob's coming, Plankton," she says, her voice steady. "He'll be here soon." Plankton's rocking slows, his antennas drooping slightly. "Sponge Bob," he whispers, his eye searching hers. "Safe." The word hangs in the air, and Karen realizes that despite his confusion, he feels comfort in Sponge Bob's presence. A few moments later, they hear the telltale sound of bubbles popping against the glass, and a knock on the door. With a tremble, Karen stands and opens it to reveal Sponge Bob, looking slightly nervous but determined. "Hi, Plankton!" he exclaims. Plankton's antennas shoot up at the sound of his name, and he whips his head around to face the door. "Sponge Bob!" he shouts, his eye lighting up with an unmistakable joy. Sponge Bob steps into the room. "Sponge Bob!" he exclaims, his voice a mix of excitement and relief. He lunges forward, wrapping his tiny arms around the larger sponge in an embrace. Sponge Bob looks surprised but quickly returns the hug, his spongy form enveloping Plankton completely. "Plankton, what's going on?" he asks, his eyes wide with concern. He's never seen Plankton like this. Plankton pulls back, his expression a jumble of emotions. "Sponge Bob," he says again, his voice filled with affection. He grabs Sponge Bob's hand and tugs him closer. "Home with Karen. Need you." Sponge Bob looks to Karen, his eyes filled with uncertainty, but she nods encouragingly. "It's ok," she says. "He's just happy you're here." The sight of Plankton's excited state brings a smile to Sponge Bob's face, despite his confusion. He sits down next to him on the couch, his own excitement growing. "What do you want to do?" Sponge Bob asks, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. Plankton's antennas twitch as he thinks, his eye darting around the room. "Let's play a game," he suddenly exclaims, his voice filled with a child-like excitement that hadn't been there before. "What kind of game, Plankton?" Karen asks, eager to encourage his newfound energy. "Chess!" he exclaims, pointing to a dusty board in the corner of the room. Sponge Bob's eyes widen with surprise, but he doesn't hesitate. He leaps up from the couch and wipes the dust from the board with his spongy hand, setting up the pieces with surprising efficiency. Karen watches from the sidelines, her heart swelling with love and hope as Plankton's enthusiasm grows. He moves the pieces with a frenetic energy, his eye alight with a joy she hadn't seen since before the accident. Sponge Bob, ever the optimist, matches his excitement, even though he's clearly outmatched by Plankton's strategic mind. "Checkmate!" Plankton cries out, his antennas waving with each word. Sponge Bob's expression is a mix of surprise and admiration. "Wow, Plankton, you're really good at this!" The room echoes with Plankton's laughter, a sound that's both familiar and foreign to Karen's ears. The old Plankton would have gloated. "Checkmate," he says again, his antennas bobbing in excitement. "Checkmate, checkmate." Sponge Bob laughs, a wonderful, genuine laugh that fills the room. "You win, Plankton," he says, his hands clapping together. Plankton's antennas stop twitching for a moment, and he looks at Sponge Bob, his eye studying the sponge's reaction. "Win," he repeats, a hint of understanding in his voice. "Win at chess." He claps like SpongeBob. Sponge Bob's eyes light up, seeing the connection. "Yes, Plankton, you won the chess game," he says, his voice soothing. "You're really good at it." Plankton's antennas start to twitch again, his eye darting between the board and Sponge Bob. "Win," he murmurs, his voice filled with a newfound sense of pride. "Win with Sponge Bob." The phrase becomes a chant, his brain finding solace in the repetition. "Win with Sponge Bob, win with Sponge Bob." Sponge Bob smiles warmly, picking up the rhythm of Plankton's words. "Yes, Plankton," he says, his voice soothing. "You won the game. You're a great chess player." Plankton's antennas quiver, his eye locking onto Sponge Bob's. "Great chess player," he echoes, his voice a mix of pride and amazement. "Win with Sponge Bob." Karen watches from the sidelines with hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the breakthrough they needed. Sponge Bob's presence was calming him, bringing out a side of Plankton she hadn't seen since the accident.

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON iii (Autistic author) "Now let's go to the living room and I'll go pick up a smoothie for you. Can you stay here by yourself?" He nodded, his expression slightly less tense. "I'll be back soon," she assured him, squeezing his shoulder before leaving the Chum Bucket. Just moments later, Karen's friend Hanna came for a surprise visit. She knew Karen had a husband named Plankton, but she never met him. Plankton was now back on the living room couch. "Oh, you must be Plankton!" Hanna exclaimed. Plankton's eye flitted to her, his expression unreadable. Hanna walked over to the couch, her smile wide and genuine. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she said, embracing him in a hug. Plankton stiffened, his eye wide with surprise. His body tensed, his mind racing to process this new sensory input. "You ok?" Hanna asked, pulling back slightly. She had noticed his reaction but didn't know the reason behind it. Plankton nodded, his eye darting around the room again. He wasn't used to such spontaneous affection, and the unexpected sensation of Hanna's arms around him had thrown him off balance. "Yes, I am Plankton," he murmured, his voice monotone. He wasn't quite sure how to respond. Hanna's smile didn't waver, unaware of the turmoil within his mind. "How are you feeling today?" Plankton's gaze flicked to the ceiling, his mind racing to find the right words. "Today, feeling," he echoed, his voice still a whisper. The repetition was a comfort, a way to process the flood of sensory information that assaulted him continuously. Hanna looked at him with a puzzled expression. "You know, your wife Karen tells me you're an inventor," she said, her tone innocently curious. Plankton's eye locked onto hers, his mind racing to understand the context of her words. "Inventor," he repeated, his voice flat. It was a word he knew, but it felt foreign now, as if it belonged to someone else. "Yes, inventor," Hanna said, nodding enthusiastically. "I've heard so much about your gadgets and contraptions. What are you working on these days?" Plankton's eye flitted around the room again, his mind struggling to grasp the concept of 'working'. "Gadgets, contraptions," he murmured, his voice a broken record. Hanna's expression was one of confusion, her smile beginning to fade. "Well, what do you do all day?" she prodded gently, trying to coax him out of his silence. Plankton's reply was immediate and robotic, "Do, all day, all day." Hanna's brow furrowed, uncertain how to interpret his repetitive response. She had known Karen for years, but Plankton's behavior was unlike anything she had ever heard of her friend's husband. "Do you like the beach?" she asked, hoping to engage him in conversation. Plankton's eye blinked slowly, his mind processing the question. "Beach," he echoed, his voice hollow. Hanna nodded, encouraged by his response. "Yes, the beach! It's such a beautiful place. Do you ever go there?" Plankton's gaze shifted to the window, the memory of sand and surf a distant whisper. "Go, beach, beautiful place," he said, his words a stuttered echo of hers. Hanna's smile dimmed slightly. This wasn't the witty banter she was expecting from Karen's husband. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" she asked, uncertain. Plankton's eye moved to hers, his gaze intense. "Talk," he repeated, his voice a whisper. Hanna felt a twinge of discomfort. Something was off about his responses, but she couldn't quite put her tentacle on what it was. "Well, what do you like to do for fun?" she tried again, her tone tentative. Plankton's eye wandered back to his own hand, fidgeting with his fingers. "Do, fun," he murmured, the words a reflexive response to the question. Hanna's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you do for fun?" she clarified, wondering if he had simply misunderstood. Plankton's gaze remained on his fidgeting hand, his mind racing to connect the concept of 'fun' with his new reality. "Do, fun," he repeated, his voice devoid of the mirth he once expressed so freely. Hanna's smile was now forced, her confusion growing with each interaction. "Plankton, can you tell me what you enjoy doing?" she asked, hoping for a clearer response. He looked up at her, his gaze slightly less focused than before. "Enjoy doing," he repeated, his voice a faint echo. Hanna's twitched with concern. "You know, like hobbies or interests," she prompted gently, trying to keep her voice light. Plankton's eye moved back to his fidgeting hand, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and sensory overload. "Hobbies, interests," he murmured, his voice a hollow echo. Hanna's concern was now clear on her screen. "You know, like things you like to do in your free time," she tried again, her voice a little less bright. Plankton's eye latched onto hers. "Free time," he repeated, his voice a monotone. "Like to do." Hanna's eyes widened slightly, her confusion growing with each word he said. "Yes, exactly," she nodded, her voice a little more cautious now. "What do you like to do in your free time? Well, other than repetition.." She awkwardly laughs as she elbows him multiple times, not knowing how her touch is irritating Plankton. Plankton's getting more frustrated/angry now, as Hanna goes to pat his shoulder. He can't take much more now. Hanna's touch was like a brand, searing his already overwhelmed senses. He flinched away, his body rigid with tension. "Plankton, are you ok?" Hanna asked, her voice filled with concern. She noticed his discomfort but couldn't pinpoint the cause. He nodded slightly, his expression unreadable. "Ok, ok," he mumbled, his voice still a monotone. Hanna looked at him with concern, her smile slipping. "Karen said you used to be quite the conversationalist. What happened?" She says, grabbing his elbow; but that's the last straw for Plankton. Plankton's eye snapped up to hers, his voice sharp. "What happened? You happened!" He snapped, his words sharp as a knife. The sudden aggression in his tone was like a slap in the face, catching Hanna off guard. She took a step back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." she began, but Plankton was on a roll now. "You don't know what happened!" his voice grew louder, his words quickening with each syllable. "You don't know anything!" Hanna's eyes went wide with shock. This was not the Plankton Karen had described. Her arms flailed in the air as she tried to placate his sudden anger. "I'm sorry, Plankton. I just didn't know..."

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY iii (Autistic author) Karen picked him up, and carried his limp form to his bed. She stood there for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall. The snores grew quieter as sleep consumed him. The weight of what had just happened settled on her shoulders. Karen lay him down gently. She tucked him in, his antennae resting against the pillow. The room was quiet except for his soft snores, a stark contrast to the chaos that had filled it moments before. Karen sat by his side, her hand on his arm. After a few moments, she stood up and walked to the door, closing it gently behind her. She found Hanna in the living room, her eyes red-rimmed and worried. "Hanna, I need to talk to you," Karen said, her voice firm but not accusing. Hanna looked up, her expression hopeful for guidance. Karen sat beside her, her eyes on her own hands, which were fidgeting in her lap. "Plankton's been through a lot," she began, her voice measured. "He's different now." Hanna nodded, her eyes wide with unspoken questions. "Still coming to terms with it but you're just fine. It's a rarity, yet he'll be fine." "I guess I'll head out. I never meant to cause Plankton distress." Karen nodded, her eyes still on her fidgeting hands. "Thank you for understanding. I'm pretty sure he knows you didn't mean to, but I can still tell him when he wakes up." Hanna left, and Karen went back to the bedroom. Plankton was still asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful. Karen sat by the bed. Plankton's snores were the only sound in the room, a gentle reminder of the peace that sleep brought him from his tumultuous world of heightened senses. Karen took a deep breath, her thoughts racing. This was their new normal, a dance of understanding and patience they would have to learn. When Plankton next woke up, his eye searched the room, his antennae twitching slightly. He looked over to find Karen sitting in a chair beside the bed, her gaze on him. "Hi," she said, her voice gentle. He sat up slowly, the fabric of the bed rustling beneath his weight. "How are you feeling?" Karen's concern was palpable, her eyes scanning his face for any signs of distress. Plankton took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. Karen's presence was a balm to his soul, her understanding a lifeline in the storm of sensory input. "Where's Hanna?" Karen sighed, her gaze never leaving his face. "She left, sweetie. You were a bit...overwhelmed." Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with the memory of the sensory assault. "It's okay," Karen assured him, her voice a soft whisper. "She just didn't understand, and felt bad for the way she treated you." Plankton nodded, his antennae still. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos from before. He took a moment to collect himself, his thoughts racing. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. Karen reached out and took his hand, her grip firm but gentle. "You have nothing to apologize for," she said, her tone soothing. "This is all new to us. Would you like to eat?" Plankton nodded. "I'll get you something quiet and simple," Karen said, standing up. She knew that too much stimulation could send him spiraling. In the kitchen, she prepared a snack of plain crackers. She placed the plate on the table carefully, not wanting to startle his heightened senses again. Plankton entered the room, his movements deliberate and slow. He sat down across from her, his eye darting around the room. "It's ok," Karen reassured him, handing him the plate of crackers. "Just food." "Just food. It's ok; just food." He repeats back to himself, focusing on the plate. Each cracker was a tiny square of safety, a familiar comfort in a sea of sensory uncertainty. He took a deep breath and selected one. The taste was comforting, a reminder of a simpler time. Karen watched him, her screen filled with love. Plankton took a sip of water, his eye never leaving hers. "It's ok just food," he said again, his voice still low. "Karen good and good food. It's ok." Karen nodded, her smile a mix of relief and sadness. She knew his echolalic tendencies was the autism, but she's glad he likes the food as well. They sat in silence, the only sound the crunch of crackers and the occasional sip of water. Plankton's eye focused on the cracker in his hand, the patterns on the surface a comfort. His autistic brain craved the predictability, the sameness that calmed his nerves. This was the man she knew, yet he was different. The Plankton who was always plotting and scheming was now one who found comfort in the mundane. His mind felt clearer now, the overwhelming chaos of the earlier encounter with Hanna beginning to fade. Karen watched him, her heart breaking for the silent struggle she knew he faced every moment. "I'll talk to Hanna," she said gently. "I'll explain. What do you want me to tell her? What'd you like for her to know?" Plankton's gaze remained on the cracker, his thumb tracing the edge. "Tell her sorry," he mumbled. "What else? I mean, is it ok if I tell her you're autistic now? Or what about the accident that lead to the autism?" Plankton's antennae twitched at the word 'accident', his mind reeling with memories of the stove, the fight with Mr. Krabs, the pain. But he nodded slowly. "Ok," he murmured. Karen's heart ached at the simplicity of his response. The complexity of his thoughts was now a tightly guarded secret, hidden behind a wall of sensory overload. "Okay, I will," Karen said, her voice soft. "But remember, it's ok to be different." Plankton nodded, his eye still on his food. But as he took another cracker, he paused. He looked up, his gaze locking with hers. "Karen," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I, I l-love you." Karen's eyes widened at the sudden declaration. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you too." Plankton nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Karen making everything okay," he murmured. He took another cracker, his hands shaking slightly. "You make Plankton feel safe," he continues with sincerity. "In a world that's too much, Karen not too much." Karen's eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt words. She reached across the table and took his hand. "Plankton, I'm here for you. Always." Plankton's antennae stopped twitching. He looked into her screen, his own filled with a depth of emotion that hadn't seen before. "You good, Karen," he said, his voice steady. "Helping Plankton." Plankton was finding his way to express himself, to connect with her in a way that was meaningful. She squeezed his hand. "I'll always help you," she promised. "Karen," Plankton began, his voice tentative. He took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "I love you, Karen," he said finally, his eye intense with feeling. Karen swelled with love and pride. Despite his struggles, Plankton was learning to express his emotions in a way that made sense to him. It was a victory, small but significant. "Thank you, Plankton," she said, squeezing his hand. "Your love makes me happy." His antennae twitched slightly, a sign of his awkwardness with the emotional exchange. The room was quiet, the only noise the soft sound of their breathing and the occasional crunch of a cracker. Plankton's eye searched hers, looking for reassurance. "Plankton need...space," he managed, his voice shaky. "Too...much emotional interaction. Still love." Karen nodded, understanding dawning. "Okay, sweetie," she said, releasing his hand. "I'll be right here. Take all the time you need."

THE LIFE OF UNITY iii (Autistic author) Kevin's laughter reaches a crescendo as he takes a step closer to Plankton. "What don't I know?" he asks, his voice sharper than ever. "That PLANKTON JUST. DON'T. WUV. THEM. JELLYFISH. YOU ARE COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY..." But his words are cut off by the sight of Plankton, his antennae drooping, his eye brimming with tears. The tiny creature's body trembles as Kevin's to loud words settle upon him, and suddenly, all the pent-up frustration and pain come rushing out in a torrent as a single tear forms and slides down his face. Plankton's antennae quiver uncontrollably, and he squeaks out a sob, his tiny body convulsing with the weight of Kevin's cruel words. SpongeBob is shocked. Kevin's words hang in the water, his laughter fading into an awkward silence as he watches Plankton's reaction. The sea cucumber's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of Plankton's tears, his own expression morphing from smug to surprise, then to something akin to fear. "Plankton?" Plankton's antennae quiver as he sniffs, trying to compose himself, his monotone voice thick with emotion. "Plankton... brainless," he murmurs, his one eye filled with unshed tears. "Plankton," he adds, his voice cracking, "Plankton... not like jellyfish." Sponge Bob's heart squeezes tight in his chest. "Hey, Plankton," he says softly, "it's ok. Kevin didn't mean it." But Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone voice echoing Kevin's hurtful words. "Kevin... right," he murmurs, his eye glistening with tears. "Plankton... brainless. Like jellyfish." Kevin's expression morphs from smugness to shock, his eyes wide as he realizes the impact of his words. "It's just... you know, a joke." But Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone voice trembling. "Joke?" he murmurs. "Plankton... a joke. Plankton... brainless." Kevin's grin falters, his eyes widening in horror as he sees the pain etched on Plankton's tiny face. "No," he stammers, his voice cracking. "It was just a... I didn't mean it like that." But Plankton's antennae continue to quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's cruel words. "Plankton... no purpose in life," he murmurs, his one eye filled with a sadness so profound it seems to suck the color out of the surrounding waters. Sponge Bob's eyes widen in shock. "Plankton," he says gently, "you have friends. You have a purpose." But Plankton's antennae droop even lower, his monotone voice a sad echo of his own self-doubt. "Plankton mindless.." Kevin's smugness evaporates, replaced with a flicker of concern as he watches the usually unflappable Plankton crumple under the weight of his words. "Look, Plankton," he says, reaching out to touch him. But Plankton flinches, his antennae quivering with pain. "Plankton," Kevin says, his voice a mix of surprise and regret, "I didn't mean it like that. I was just messing around." But Plankton's antennae continue to quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's insults. "Mindless," he murmurs, his one eye fixed. "Brainless." Sponge Bob's eyes wide with shock and sadness. "Plankton," he whispers, his voice filled with a tenderness Plankton rarely hears from anyone. "You're not brainless." But Plankton's antennae quiver with doubt, his monotone voice echoing Kevin's words. "Plankton... mindless," he murmurs, his one eye unable to meet Sponge Bob's gaze. "Like jellyfish." SpongeBob knew that Plankton's obsession with jellyfish is more than just a hobby; it's a deep connection, a part of who he is after the traumatic brain injury. And now, Kevin's careless words have struck a nerve, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice gentle, "you're not like that. You're smart. You're... you're you." But Plankton's antennae quiver with insecurity, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's words. "Mindless," he murmurs, his one eye still avoiding contact. "Plankton... like jellyfish." SpongeBob understood that the brain trauma has affected him, making him more vulnerable to words that question his intelligence and identity due to his autism. "Plankton," he says, his voice filled with concern, "you know that's not true. You're not like jellyfish in that way." But Plankton's antennae quiver with doubt, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's mockery. "Mindless," he murmurs. "Mindless, brainless." Sponge Bob's heart aches for his friend, reaching out to offer comfort. "Plankton, you're not like that," he says, his voice gentle and assuring. "You're brilliant. You know more about jellyfish than anyone." But Plankton's antennae quiver with insecurity, his monotone voice a sad echo of Kevin's laughter. "Mindless," he murmurs, eye downcast. "Plankton... brainless." Sponge Bob tries to find the right words to say. "Plankton," he says gently, "you're not like that. You're so much more than what Kevin said." But Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of the cruel words. "Mindless," he murmurs, his one eye avoiding Sponge Bob's gaze. "Plankton... no purpose." Kevin's eyes dart from Plankton to Sponge Bob, his grin faltering. "What's going on?" he asks, his voice tight with confusion. "You guys are acting weird." Sponge Bob's embrace tighten around Plankton's tiny body, his voice firm but kind. "Kevin," he says, his gaze fixed on Plankton, "you don't know what happened to Plankton." Kevin's laughter fades into a puzzled look. "What do you mean?" Kevin's smirk fades, his eyes narrowing with confusion. "What are you guys talking about?" he asks, his voice tight. Sponge Bob hesitates, glancing at Plankton, who nods almost imperceptibly. "Kevin," he says, his voice serious, "Plankton had a bad accident. He hit his head, and now he's... different." Kevin's tentacles freeze in mid-air, his smugness evaporating. "What do you mean, 'different'?" he asks, his voice tentative. Sponge Bob sighs. "Plankton's had a brain injury," he says, his eyes never leaving Plankton's quivering antennae. "He's... autistic now." Kevin's eyes widen, his tentacles dropping to his sides. "What? No way," he stammers, his smugness gone. "You're... you're joking, right?" But Sponge Bob's expression is serious, gently stroking Plankton's antennae. "It's true, Kevin," he says, his voice gentle. "Plankton's had a tough time, and he's different now." "Plankton, joke." Kevin's confusion turns to shock as he looks from Sponge Bob to Plankton, his tentacles dropping to his sides. "But... but why didn't you say anything?" he asks, his voice trembling. Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "We didn't think it was anyone's business," he says tightening around Plankton's shaking antennae. "But now you know Kevin. And we need you to be cool about it."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧🎧ྀི⊹₊⋆⭑𓂃.ᐟ✧˖°.✧˖°.☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

☁️🌿❀༉‧₊˚.𑁍

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⣟⣯⢿⡹⣏⠿⣭⠯⡽⣩⢏⡝⢮⡙⢮⡙⣎⠳⡙⢎⠳⡍⢞⣡⠛⣬⠳⡩⢞⣡⠛⡬⢓⡭⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀ ⡿⣼⢳⡻⣜⠻⣔⢫⠖⡱⢊⡜⡡⡙⢢⠑⡌⠱⢉⠌⡱⢈⠒⠤⠉⡄⠣⠑⠌⠤⢉⠔⢃⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⢀⠀⠄⠀⠄ ⡿⣜⢧⡛⣬⠳⣌⠣⢎⠡⢃⡐⠡⠐⠁⠂⠌⠐⠀⠂⠀⠀⠈⠀⠁⠀⠁⠈⠀⠂⠠⠈⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡦⠜⠄⠢⠀ ⡟⡼⢣⡝⢤⠓⡄⢃⠂⠌⡀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠈⠢⠠⠍⠂ ⢯⡝⣣⠚⡤⢃⠌⡐⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠈⠃ ⡗⢮⡅⢫⠐⢂⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢫⢐⠇⢄⠃⢀⣿⣀⣤⣤⣤⣠⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠂⠑⠀⠈⠀⠂ ⣝⡲⢌⠣⡘⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⣱⢻⢠⡐⣴⣾⣿⣿⢿⣿⢽⡻⣳⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⢀⣴⣾⣻⣞⡧⡽ ⢮⡱⢊⡱⢀⠡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢡⠃⠈⡤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣯⢿⣹⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣜⣿⣿⣯⣷⢯⣷⢶ ⢧⣃⠧⡐⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⢺⣀⣀⣇⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡳⣌⢒⠡⠂⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣱⣬⣭⡭⢶⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⠿⢻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡳⡌⢎⠰⠁⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠌⠸⣭⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡽⠛⠀⠀⠁⢋⡞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢧⡙⣌⠢⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋⠀⡄⠩⢌⢂⡐⠀⣈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠘⣽⣿⣿⣿ ⣇⠳⡄⢃⠄⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣎⣮⣤⡄⠠⠈⠁⠂⠢⡄⢁⠀⢨⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢠⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⣿⣿ ⣎⣷⣿⡾⣆⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⢫⣵⣚⣿⣿⣧⣀⠄⡀⠀⠈⢂⠠⡘⡈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⡄⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢏⣡⢛⣿⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡈⢰⣻⣿ ⣯⠶⣏⠷⣧⢖⡩⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⡨⠐⢋⡻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⢀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠱⡘⢬⣿⣿⣿⣿⢒⡛⠂⠄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⠁⠘⢿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢀⠯⣿ ⣯⢟⣼⣳⣽⣿⢿⣷⣿⣶⣶⠔⠠⢁⠙⠻⣾⣿⡿⣿⣏⢯⣳⣱⣌⡆⠀⠈⠳⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣜⠄⡀⠀⢐⣡⡣⣌⠀⠠⣄⠔⠀⠀⠸⣬⣛⣿⣿⣿⣝⢣⢀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢹⣿ ⣟⣮⣳⣽⣿⣽⢷⣳⣿⣿⢯⡘⢄⠂⠄⢀⠀⢈⠛⠒⠋⠸⠷⣹⣾⣿⣷⣦⣄⠠⢻⣻⣿⣿⣠⠃⠀⣔⡮⢳⡌⡘⣎⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠋⠻⠰⠉⠏⡞⣻⢿⣷⣄⣄⠀⠂⡝ ⣟⡶⣿⣿⣽⣿⣷⣿⢿⣿⡧⡜⠬⢌⢰⠎⠬⠒⠈⠡⠀⠀⢦⣹⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡉⠱⣺⡥⢀⣪⡯⣵⡿⣐⣿⢿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡴⠈ ⡿⣼⣿⣿⣿⢿⡁⠄⠹⣿⣱⣯⣗⣈⢰⣷⣷⡠⢀⠈⡀⠀⠀⠻⣯⡿⢿⣻⣷⣟⠿⢔⠀⣺⡋⣹⣟⡾⣿⡙⠋⠙⢺⡯⢀⣎⠀⠀⢰⣄⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡷⣾⣿⢿⣭⡙⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⡼⣅⠆⠹⡿⣿⣿⠛⢿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣆⠉⢲⠇⠀⠈⠹⠶⡂⠝⠻⠁⠀⣴⣿⣰⣿⢷⡾⡟⣡⠂⡀⠈⢳⣿⣿⡷⢶⣾⣿⣿⢢⣴⡀⠑⠀⠀⠀⠙⠲⢈⠙⠿⠓⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⣾⣿⡷⣜⣞⡷⢟⡀⠀⠱⡀⠻⣿⣿⣷⠉⠚⠰⢢⢐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣜⣡⢸⣿⣿⡿⠯⣰⣷⢀⡁⠤⣴⠔⠉⠐⠀⠉⢟⣻⣷⡞⠃⠔⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣟⣽⣿⣿⢻⣯⢟⡔⣢⠙⣧⢄⡘⢄⠈⠻⢯⣷⣦⣸⢫⣌⠄⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣞⡼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠓⣸⣿⡿⢷⣻⠏⠁⠘⢆⡀⡀⢂⠀⠻⣿⣱⣠⡀⡖⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠌ ⣿⢷⣾⣿⣿⣽⣿⠷⢿⣿⣆⠷⡘⢧⡜⢪⢗⡀⠉⢻⣿⡟⢋⡡⡌⢀⣀⣴⡾⣛⣽⣾⢻⢶⣿⡇⣱⣿⡟⣵⣿⣡⣾⣆⡀⠀⢣⡀⠀⡑⡀⠀⠙⣿⣿⡗⠐⠀⡀⠀⠀⣠⢖⢣⣝ ⣯⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⢯⣗⢦⢩⢿⣯⣙⢎⠹⡁⠎⡱⡀⣹⢡⣒⣿⣽⣿⢟⡯⣾⣵⣿⠿⣭⢯⣾⠡⣼⣿⢟⡾⣿⣃⡀⠈⠻⣷⡈⢅⡳⢆⠈⠀⠂⠀⡼⠋⢠⡴⣾⣤⠖⣯⢱⣫⣾⢫ ⡷⡿⣏⣟⠾⣟⣿⣿⣎⢧⢳⡹⢗⠮⡑⡓⡎⡔⢸⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣮⣟⣿⢿⣛⣭⣷⣿⣿⣿⢴⣿⢋⠋⢸⡷⣿⣇⠢⠑⡙⢿⣄⠐⠒⢄⠀⠀⢲⣶⡾⣟⡽⣳⢬⣛⣴⣿⠻⣌⣷ ⣿⡷⢯⣿⣫⣟⡾⠽⢻⣮⣧⣹⢦⡷⣼⣟⢽⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣻⢮⣷⣿⢯⣷⣿⣿⣛⠿⣩⣻⣝⠁⡲⢀⢸⠠⢽⡿⠱⣂⡄⢡⡈⢀⣴⡎⡴⣧⣾⣿⢻⡽⣛⣼⣳⢿⣙⣦⣿⠿⣟ ⣿⣟⣷⣭⡟⣬⢒⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢏⣵⣿⣿⣟⡷⣟⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣾⣿⣿⣛⢻⣫⢘⡀⢹⠜⠀⠁⢜⣼⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⠟⣩⣾⣿⣻⣞⢯⣳⣻⡾⣏⣷⣿⡿⣏⣳⣼ ⣿⣷⣾⡿⣜⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣋⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠈⠉⢹⣵⡎⣵⠋⠀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣟⠗⣵⣿⣿⣿⣳⢯⡼⢯⣾⢯⣿⡿⣿⣷⣿⣿⠟⠻ ⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⡡⣿⣷⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣴⣿⣿⣿⣟⣧⣻⢮⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣿⣽⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⡀⢸⣿⠓⣽⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣫⢿⣼⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢨⣓⣷⡿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣳⢯⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠸⣶⡽⢷⣿⣿⡻⣿⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣷⣻⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⢿⣷⣿⣷⢾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⢿⡻⣟⣾⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⡈⠂⠀⠀⠀⣟⣳⢿⣹⣾⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠄⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⡀⠄⠀⠀⣿⣽⣺⢿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⡁⠂⢸⣷⣯⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡽⣹⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⡔⠢⠀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠘⠌⢰⠉⠻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀ ⣳⢣⢯⡘⡙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣟⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⢿⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣧⢋⢦⡙⢲⡀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⡕⢧⠞⠛⣾⣢⢄⡀⠀⠀⠨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠸⣇⡻⢷⢦⢄⠀⠀ ⢧⡏⡖⡌⢂⠙⢢⡄⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⢭⣚⡆⢒⠉⠙⣾⣜⢣⡀⢘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡃⢳⠠⠤⠛⢯⣽⡂ ⡳⢎⡵⣎⠰⢈⠀⠱⡄⠀⢻⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣶⡐⢶⡉⠐⡆⠉⢹⣳⣜⢪⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠈⢿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠜⠩⣆⠃⢠⠀⠙⢿ ⡝⣎⠲⣙⠦⡁⢂⠀⠹⣄⠂⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣥⠊⢵⣂⠀⡖⠀⠘⢮⣻⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠘⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢯⡂⠣⣦⠈⠀⡀⠘ ⡟⣬⠓⡌⢶⡁⠆⠀⠀⠘⡄⢸⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡭⣗⡀⢞⡡⡐⠄⠄⠈⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⠀⢻⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣈⣽⡄⠈⠝⢌⢀⠀ ⡝⣦⠛⡌⢆⡿⢠⠁⠀⠈⣧⠖⣿⣿⣥⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣞⣧⢖⠨⠔⢂⠄⠀⠺⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠘⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢜⣿⡤⡉⠜⠡⠀ ⡻⣔⠫⡜⢂⡿⣀⠂⠀⠀⢱⠈⣼⣿⣿⡖⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣾⣅⡙⠀⠙⠦⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⣿⣿⣧⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⣗⡀⠀⠀ ⢷⣩⠓⣌⣹⡷⠄⢂⠀⠀⢸⡈⠊⣿⣿⣿⣖⡱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠷⠦⠠⠐⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣦⠑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠽⣤⠀ ⡧⣇⢏⠤⣻⣿⢌⠠⠀⢠⣿⣅⠀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣷⡰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⢀⣇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉ ⣳⢭⣚⣾⣿⡿⣈⠐⠀⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⡓⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣳⢮⣿⣿⣿⡓⠄⡈⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠀⢀⣾⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣄⣀⣠⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣉⢒⠎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣣⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡠⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧-` ♡ ´-✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

🪼>ᴗ<

⭒⭒☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎

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ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ,-`♡´-,☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

𓆑๋࣭ ⭑⚝-`♡´-

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖♥︎

⋆˚🐾˖°

⛓🍵☢️🍵🔎🧂🌴🧂

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓇢𓆸જ⁀➴𓍢ִ໋🌷֒✧ ༘ ⋆｡♡૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎აﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

≽ ^ • ⩊ • ^ ≼༘ ⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚💛🫶🏼.

🫀💗

🫀💗🧑🏻‍🚀

🐸(⸝⸝⸝>﹏<⸝⸝⸝) frog, flustered

3️

☀︎ 😵‍💫🕶

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY iii (Autistic author) The sound of the door opening interrupted. Sandy barged in. "Hey, Karen!" she called out. "Hi, Sandy; come in.." Karen says. Sandy looked over at Plankton sitting at the kitchen table, his plate empty, his gaze fixed on the spot where his food had been. "Hey, Plankton!" she exclaimed, as he got up to go sit on the living room floor with a science book. She followed him. "What's up, buddy?" she asked, her voice cheerful. But Plankton ignored her, his focus solely on the pages in front of him. Karen watched their interaction with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Plankton, you ok?" Sandy's voice grew softer, her eyes narrowing as she studied her friend. "You seem... different." Karen tensed, waiting for his response. Plankton didn't look up from his book, his eye scanning the pages. "Plankton?" Sandy tried again, her voice a mix of confusion and concern. But Plankton remained oblivious, his new condition rendering him unable to read social cues. "Why?" he asked, his tone matter-of-fact, as if inquiring about the weather. Sandy's smile faltered. "Well, you're just sitting there, not saying anything," she said, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. Plankton didn't look up from his book. "Reading," he said, his voice devoid of any inflection. Sandy's confusion grew into hurt. "Is everything ok?" she asked, her voice tentative. Plankton, still engrossed in his book, didn't look up. "Ok," he murmured. Sandy's known Plankton for years, but his behavior today was unlike anything she had ever seen. Karen prompts him. "Plankton, say hello to Sandy." He glances up from his book, his gaze passing over her without recognition. "Say, say hi Sandy," he says, his voice lacking any warmth. Sandy's smile fades, her paws clenching slightly with irritation. "What's gotten into you, Plankton?" she snaps, her voice sharper than she had intended. "You're acting like you don't even know me!" Karen's circuits whir with activity. "Sandy, it's okay," she hesitates, not quite sure how to explain without revealing the truth. "I'll go pick up some soda pop drinks." She says, leaving them both. Sandy watches her leave, her expression a mix of anger and hurt. She turns to Plankton. "What's your deal, Plankton?" she asks, her voice tight. "You've been acting weird ever since I got here." Plankton's eye snaps to hers, his gaze unnervingly intense. "Weird," he repeats, as if processing the word for the first time. "Different." Sandy's anger bubbles to the surface. "Yeah, you're different. You're ignoring me!" she exclaims, her paws on her hips. Plankton's expression doesn't change. "Reading," he says simply. Her frustration grows. "You're always reading, Plankton," Sandy says, her voice rising. "But you've never ignored me like this before!" Plankton's eye blinks, his focus shifting to her. "Sorry," he says, the word a mere echo of what he used to express. It's clear his social awareness has shifted. He doesn't understand the subtleties of her emotions anymore. Sandy's hurt turns to anger. "You don't just say sorry and go back to ignoring me," she snaps. "What's going on with you?" But Plankton seems lost in his own world, the words on the pages of his book more real to him than the friend standing before him. Sandy's patience wears thin. "Why aren't you listening to me?" she demands. "Listening," Plankton murmurs, his gaze never leaving the book. Sandy's eyes widen, her anger building. "I'm right here!" she says, her voice a mix of frustration and sadness. "What is so important that you can't even look at me?" But Plankton's mind is elsewhere, his thoughts racing through the pages of his book. The words swim before his eye, each line a puzzle waiting to be solved. He's oblivious to Sandy's hurt, his world now filtered through a new, more intense lens. Sandy's voice pierces through his concentration, her tone sharp. "I said, why aren't you listening to me?" Plankton looks up, his eye dilating slightly as he takes in Sandy's stance. He tries to interpret her body language. "Plankton reading," he says, his voice still flat, his gaze drifting back to the book. Sandy's eyes flash with anger. "That's not what I asked, Plankton!" she says, her voice rising. "What's going on with you? Why are you ignoring me?" Plankton's gaze flicks back to her, his expression still vacant. "Reading," he repeats. The word feels like a shield, a way to explain the inexplicable. Sandy's eyes narrow, her paws snatching the book from his grasp. Plankton's eye widens in surprise at the sudden movement. He tries to retrieve the book, body moving in jerky motions. "Book," he says, his voice still monotone. Sandy holds it out of reach. "Look at me Plankton!" Plankton's arms flail, his body straining to retrieve the book. "Book," he says, his voice desperate, his mind overwhelmed. Sandy, unable to understand feels her own anger flare up. "What's your problem?" she snaps, holding the book higher. "You're acting like a little kid!" Plankton's eye locks onto the book. "Mine," he whispers, voice strained. Sandy's seen him at his worst, but this is something she can't comprehend. "I'm not a toy for you to ignore!" she shouts. She hid the book on a high shelf. Plankton's body tenses. "Mine," he repeats, his voice rising in desperation. Sandy's eyes fill with tears of frustration. "Why are you acting like this?" He stands up, his body shaking. "MINE," he shouts. "What's gotten into you? Why are you being like this?" Plankton's eye darts around the room, unable to hold Sandy's gaze. "Plankton, you're acting like a complete jerk," Sandy says, her voice shaking. "No wonder Karen is always so tired with you." "Karen," Plankton murmurs. "Karen ok?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. Sandy throws her arms in the air, exasperated. "How can you be so selfish? Don't you know that Karen is sick of you?" "Sick of me?" he echoes. "Yes, sick of you," she snaps. "Why don't you try acting normal? Perhaps then Karen would be happier! Or better yet, leave her!" The words hang in the air like a toxic cloud, their sting hitting Plankton's core. But his new brain can't process the depth of her anger. "Karen happy," he whispers, his voice a broken echo of his former self. Sandy's eyes flash with rage. "You don't know anything," she spits out, her words like acid. "You're just a selfish, self-centered plankton who doesn't care about how Karen feels!" Plankton's concepts of "selfish" and "sick of" are foreign to his new way of thinking. He tries to find the patterns in her words, the logic in her accusations, but it's like trying to solve an impossible equation. "No," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Karen not sick of me?" "You really don't get it, do you?" she says, her voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "You're so caught up you can't see what's right in front of you! Karen doesn't deserve this!" Plankton's eye narrows slightly, his mind struggling to piece together the puzzle of her emotions. "Karen happy," he repeats, his voice strained. Sandy's anger turns to despair. "You don't even know what you're saying," she says, her voice heavy. "You're so wrapped up in your own little world that you can't see how much Karen does for you, and how much you hurt her." As if on cue, Karen returns with coffee. "I'm back," she says, her voice a gentle hum. She notices the tension in the room and Plankton's distress. "Is everything ok?" she asks, placing the drinks on the table. Sandy glares at Plankton. "No," she says, her voice shaking. "Everything is not ok. Plankton's been acting weird all morning and, I told him how you're always tired of him, and he just doesn't get it." Karen takes in the scene. She tries to intervene gently. "Sandy, I think there's something you should know," she begins, but Sandy cuts her off, turning to Plankton. "See? Even Karen thinks you're a burden!" Plankton's world shatters. Sandy's words hit him like a tidal wave, her accusations sinking into his new reality. His teary gaze locks onto Karen, desperation in his voice. "Burden?" he croaks. Karen's circuits racing as she tries to smooth over the situation. "No, Sandy," she says, her voice calm but firm. "That's not what I said." "Don't lie to me, Karen," Sandy snaps, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "I can see you've had enough and if Plankton can't see that, then perhaps it's best if he just leaves." Karen's circuits race with a mix of emotions - anger at Sandy's accusations, sadness at Plankton's distress, and fear of what this means for their friendship. "That's not true," she says, yet Plankton's searching for any hint of deception. Sandy's eyes are steely, her body language confrontational. "Why don't you just leave her alone?" she spits out, her voice thick with frustration. Plankton stands up, his sobs echoed through the corridor as he runs back to the bedroom, shutting the door with a thud. "Sandy that was uncalled for," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. Sandy's anger turns to surprise. "What are you talking about?" she says. "I'm just telling the truth.." Karen's expression is a mix of sorrow and anger, her voice tight. "You don't know what he's going through." Sandy's anger fades, replaced by confusion. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice softer. Karen takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she had been dreading. "Plankton had an accident, hit his head on the vault and got knocked out." Sandy's in shock. "What? Is he ok?" she asks. Karen sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Plankton has autism now," she says. "He can't help the way he's acting." The revelation hits Sandy like a ton of bricks. The realization of her own harshness crashes over her. "Oh no," she murmurs, her eyes filling with tears. "I had no idea." Her gaze drifts to the closed bedroom door. "What have I done?" she whispers, her voice cracking.

₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

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ᥫ᭡. ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 🫀

˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙˙ᵕ˙

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢰⢖⡲⢒⡶⣳⢖⡛⣖⡳⣒⢛⣷⢳⣚⣖⡟⣲⣞⡷⢚⠖⣖⢾⡚⣷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢸⢬⣖⡽⢚⣙⡷⣺⠞⡱⠌⢆⣹⢒⢳⣯⣶⣫⠾⢶⡿⣫⠞⣡⢒⣽⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠠⠠⠄⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢸⣆⠽⢶⢷⡯⠚⡤⢫⣴⣝⣤⢾⣉⠶⣊⠞⣡⠯⡊⠿⠶⡾⢖⡽⢻⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣥⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡄⠚⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣾⣵⣿⣾⣿⣿⣵⣮⣴⣼⣿⣴⣮⣾⣧⣷⣭⢸⠓⣭⣶⣿⣴⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⢉⠩⠋⠉⢉⠍⠁⠀⡜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⠂⡠⠄⠒⠓⠒⠒⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⣤⣤⣤⣤⣦⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡟⢋⣽⠿⢛⠿⢯⠿⠛⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣄⣌⠵⡶⢶⠄⢨⢤⡬⣄⣻⣿⣷⣿⣟⣾⣻⣿⣿⣟⣿⢫⣷⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢣⡽⢾⡪⡍⣀⣒⠆⣈⠦⢉⣭⣵⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠷⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡀⠻⣟⠲⠧⢽⣭⣬⣯⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⠒⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣳⣶⣽⠒⠲⠘⠞⠛⠁⢴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠐⠒⠊⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢀⡰⠊⢸⠀⠹⡅⠒⠤⠄⠀⠤⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⡄⣤⣄⣀⣀⣄⡀⣀⣀⣀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⢸⠀⠀⡰⠋⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠘⢆⢀⡀⡄⡀⠀⣀⢀⡀⢠⣀⢀⡀⣄⢀⣀⡀⠀⣀⠀⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠁⠉⠉⠋⠉⠃⠈⠉⠉⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠋⠁⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠘⠂⠃⠇⠘⠛⠛⠋⠃⠙⠋⠛⠀⠛⠁⠛⠚⠘⠙⠛⠙⠛ ⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀ ⠉⠉⠉⢉⣩⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⣭⣭⡍⠉⠉⠉⣭⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⢹⣏⢻⣝⣭⠏⣍⠫⡝⢿⣭⣯⢉⡛⣭⣏⣛⣭⣯⠭⣉⠏⣽⣫⣝⣻⡽⢋⠭⡹⢍⠭⡙ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⠯⠃⠻⠫⠓⠛⠻⠁⠱⠫⠟⠼⠋⠟⠻⠟⠁⠟⠳⠘⠽⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⣚⣌⣭⣶⣾⣶⣼⣦⣆⡛⢶⡛⢍⡙⢫⢍⣒⣘⣤⣣⣶⣭⣍⣍⣆⣍⣚⠷⠾⡑⡌ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⣻⡿⣿⡶⠶⣶⡶⡦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⡏⣿⡿⣿⢻⣿⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣞⠁⣙⣭⣵⡦⢕⠀⣸⣠⣬⣂⢙⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣷⡿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⣮⣿⢵⡒⠁⢠⢅⡀⠙⣄⠒⢺⣙⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣟⣿⣿⢻⣿⣻⣿⡿⣿⣿⢹⣟⢢⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣅⠘⢗⡷⠭⣽⣓⣒⣻⣀⣖⣻⡯⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⡘⣿⣆⣹⣸⣿⣧⣿⢿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⣦⣅⣲⡥⠈⢏⣹⡹⠹⠟⠁⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⢿⣿⣷⣿⣽⣿⣾⣿⣽⣿⣿⣶⢿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣷⣿⣳⣄⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠉⢛⣯⣵⣀⡀⠑⠒⢐⣜⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣿⣿⡿⣹⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⡼⠀⠹⣤⡉⠁⠩⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⢯⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠁⢸⠁⠀⠀⠈⠙⡄⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⣻⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⣞⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣳⣿⣿⣿⡏⣿⣿⣹⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡈⠁⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣿⢿⢿⢿⣿⣽⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠋⠑⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡾⠀⠀⢒⢲⢒⡤⠼⡆⡓⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣋⣥⠥⠐⡔⡱⠖⠉⢀⡨⢊⠴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

purple ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓂺 ♡ ̆̈ ;༊ ⛈☾ּ ֶָ֢.ּ ֶָ֢.

purple ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓂺 ♡ ̆̈ ;༊

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

🫧🕊️🩵🪞✨

🫱🏼‍🫲🏽🫶🏻

🐈‍⬛🍶🥛

LIME 🍋

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 💟

𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 ᥫ᭡。 ᥫ᭡。 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 ྀི ྀི ྀི ྀི ✪ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𐙚 ᡣ𐭩 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ˚☽˚.⋆ ፝֟፝֟፝֟፝֟፝֟፝ ፝֟፝֟፝֟፝֟፝֟፝ ፝֟፝֟፝֟፝֟፝֟፝ ಇㅤ♡ྀི ₊

ᡣ𐭩, ᥫ᭡.

🍃⛅️🏞️˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿

Thangappulla⋆.˚🦋༘⋆💗ྀི🔋

🍬🎀💕 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 𐙚 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ♡ ̆̈ ♡ ̆̈ ♡ ̆̈ .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!ᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟ🩶

🥀💀🩸 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 𐙚 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ♡ ̆̈ ♡ ̆̈ ♡ ̆̈ .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!ᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟᝰ.ᐟ🩶

˖𓇼⋆₊

💦

✉〰༄

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣷⣿⣶⣶⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣠⣤⣤⣴⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⢿⣿⣟⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠘⠻⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣡⠊⠄⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠄⡂⢸⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣥⣦⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⣤⣠⣤⣤⡀⠠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢯⠳⣾⣶⣆⣀⠀⠀⡁⢂⡊⠄⢺⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⠈⢩⣽⣿⢹⡉⠀⡿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢊⡀⠀⠙⠛⠿⠀⣼⠿⣿⠿⠂⢘⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣹⠈⠛⠚⠻⢻⠁⠀⠈⠋⠃⠁⠀⢈⢤⢙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣧⠀⠀⢴⠊⠐⢤⠀⠀⠀⣠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢽⡀⠀⠀⢠⠒⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠊⠌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⢤⣿⣿⣿⠼⣷⣾⣿⣷⣬⣄⠰⠠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢷⣶⣶⣤⣿⣿⡶⡭⣄⡀⠀⢠⠃⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣀⣠⣤⢶⡾⣽⡾⣯⣿⣿⡟⣿⣦⡙⠳⡞⣩⡯⢶⡳⡤⡀⠉⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣯⣟⣻⣭⣹⡛⠉⠙⠟⠀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢯⡟⣶⢯⣻⣽⣳⣿⣳⢿⣯⡳⡸⠝⢿⢛⠛⣙⣴⡿⣱⢿⡹⣖⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣶⣿⣿⣧⣄⣨⣿⠞⢀⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⣴⣿⢣⡟⣼⢳⣯⣶⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣭⠋⣦⣯⣾⣿⣯⣷⡟⣧⢳⣭⡏⠛⡖⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⢸⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠥⠤⢴⡆⠀⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⣟⣟⡮⣗⢯⡞⣾⣯⣟⡾⣽⣳⣟⡿⣿⣿⣾⣿⢿⣯⢿⣻⡽⣞⡧⢿⡼⢻⢠⠒⠀⠈⢀⠈⢸⡆⣧⡉⡌⢥⣐⡊⡀⡤⠊⠀⠂⡀⠨⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢂⣽⣻⣞⣯⣽⣾⣹⢯⡿⣞⡿⣎⣷⡿⣾⢷⡿⣿⡽⣯⠾⣧⣷⣻⡵⣫⠷⣭⢷⠀⠀⢀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠻⣈⣗⣜⡣⠆⠑⠋⠀⠀⠃⡀⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢂⣸⣞⣷⣻⣿⣿⣾⢯⣟⣳⢽⡟⢩⡁⢞⡹⣞⣽⣯⢷⣋⡿⣼⣳⢯⣿⢽⣻⣼⣿⠀⠀⡁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠢⠀⡀⠔ ⣺⡽⣞⣷⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣻⣞⣯⣟⣶⣻⢾⡽⣞⣯⢿⣽⣳⣯⢿⣽⣷⣿⣾⡏⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⡠⠊⠀⢀

🫁༄｡°👃♡

♥♥

୧ ‧₊˚ 🥩🦴 ⋅

~~~

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⡿⡟⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣷⡘⣾⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢢⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⢿⣿⣇⣺⠿⠄⠙⠛⠋⠜⠂⠒⠈⠉⢹⡟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⢾⣿⣿⣿⣎⠀⢇⠱⣿⣿⣹⢹⡿⠀⣸⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢷⣿⣿⣿⠡⣄⠈⠀⠀⢍⠉⠉⠀⣠⡯⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣾⢝⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠈⠐⡂⠆⠦⡴⡄⣺⣿⣿⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠠⠴⢁⣿⣿⣿⡧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠼⠙⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠐⢀⠀⠀⠇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⢠⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆𝞹📈🧠📚✎ᝰ.📓🗒 ˎˊ˗

ᥫ᭡. ❤️

🌊🪸🐚🐬

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈( ´ཀ` )

ﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ🫀ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡

『👛 』ღ┆»» ┆༝༚༝༚ ⌇ ℳ , α , ℰ, ℳαℰ нєяє! ⌇ ¹ ² ³ αɕтιση!📸 ︴ι'ԃ:　»«　┆☀︎ ︴ ɕυт! ʙʏᴇ ᴍℓ’s! ︴👛

♒︎

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆

𐙚⋆̤̮☾✦⊹ ࣪ ˖

🌊⋆🐚🫧🪐 𓇼 🐚🐚🐢🐟⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 💎 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ 🔮 .🍓•.°˖𓍢ִ໋ 🪼 ✧°.🐟⋆

🤍💋🌷🤍

<3👽👽

mamegomas ur emojicombos sux XD 🎀

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼

🎂

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆𝞹📈🧠📚✎ᝰ.📓🗒 ˎˊ˗𓆩♡𓆪🏛𓆩♡𓆪𝞹📈🧠📚𝞹📈🧠📚𝞹📈🧠📚𝞹📈🧠📚𝞹📈🧠📚𝞹📈🧠📚

cute 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ *ੈ𑁍༘⋆*ੈ𑁍༘⋆♛ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜

❤♥❤️💗 ᡣ𐭩

╭∩╮( •̀_•́ )╭∩╮✈︎✞(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)( ._. )""( ;´ - `;)(..◜ᴗ◝..)(´・ω・`)(´⊙ω⊙`)！(´⊙ω⊙`)ᵒᵐᵍᵎᵎᵎ(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭( ≧ᗜ≦)૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡😧(,,Ծ‸Ծ,, )(๑>◡<๑)(¬_¬")(„• ֊ •„)੭(•̪ o •̪)(⊙ _ ⊙ )ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧(◣ _ ◢)▄︻デ══━一૮₍´｡ᵔ ꈊ ᵔ｡`₎ა🖕🏻

🙅❄️

🖤💕 💘

follow my roblox and ill give you 1.2k robux when you follow!! user: 0rahwa 🪷

❤️

💦˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

honey🩷

❤︎ghjj

please dont post gross stuff on here!! kids who are young like probably 9 year olds are just trying to find cute combos. spread the word (≧ヮ≦) also people who are spreading the word, please do not put curse words. its the same example for kids with the gross things but with curse words. thanks love<3 bye!!(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡🫶🏻

Carmen⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆.𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖