Consciouscore Emojis & Text

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 14 Plankton's voice doesn't waver from his sad mantra. "I'm proud, but you don't show it, I'm sorry. Chip won." His body rocks slightly, his antennae quivering. The lobby seems to spin around him, his heart heavy with shame and love. Chip's eyes are glued to his father. "Dad," he said again, his voice trembling. "You don't have to be sorry." But Plankton doesn't seem to hear his son. Karen's eyes are filled with sadness, but she nods firmly. "Chip, your dad loves you. He's just... stuck." The words hang in the air, Plankton's voice still echoing through the lobby. "I'm proud, but you don't show it, I'm sorry. Chip won." His stim isn't letting up, his body rocking slightly, his antennae trembling with each repeated phrase. Chip watches, his heart breaking. He understands now, the complexities of his father's mind. He can see the love behind the words, the pain in his eye. "Dad," he whispers, kneeling before him. "I know you're pro-" But Plankton's stim doesn't let his voice rest. "I'm proud, but you don't show it, I'm sorry. Chip won." His body rocks more now, his antennae shaking with each syllable. "But you don't show it, I'm sorry." The words become a rhythm, a sad song of regret and pain. Chip's heart breaks a little more with each repetition. He doesn't know how to reach his dad, how to tell him that his love is enough. Karen watches, her own heart breaking for her family. She knows this isn't easy for any of them, but she also knows they're making progress. She squeezes Plankton's hand, trying to transfer some of her strength to him. Chip's eyes never leave his dad's face. He sees the love in Plankton's eye, the pain behind the words. "Dad," he says, his voice shaky. "I know you're proud of me." But Plankton's stim doesn't acknowledge his words. "I'm proud, but you don't show it, I'm sorry. Chip won." His voice is a sad refrain, his body stuck in a painful routine. Karen's grip on his hand tightens, and she whispers soothingly into his ear. "We're all so proud of Chip, Plankton," she says. "You've got to believe th-" But Plankton's stim continues, his voice a sad reminder of his inability to connect in the way Chip craves. "I'm proud, but you don't show it, I'm sorry. Chip won." His antennae quiver with each word, his body still. Chip's heart swells with understanding, his frustration giving way to compassion. He reaches out his free hand to his dad, placing it gently on his shoulder. "Dad," he whispers, "I know you're proud. I can see it." But Plankton's body goes rigid at Chip's touch. The words suddenly stop. The lobby seems to hold its breath. Plankton's antennae fall limp. His eye rolls back, and his body goes slack. Karen's grip on his hand tightens instinctively as he starts to slump over. With a gasp, she catches him, his head falling heavily onto her shoulder. Chip's eyes widen with fright as they manage to lay Plankton down on the bench. "It's his autism," she explains. "Sometimes his brain gets overwhelmed and he can faint. It's ok, Chip. This happens sometimes." Plankton's body is limp, his eye closed, his mouth slightly agape. Chip's heart thunders in his chest, his hands trembling. He's seen his dad have meltdowns before, but this is new. Karen's voice is calm. "It's okay, Chip," she says. "This is just his brain's way of saying it's had enough." Her words aren't enough to soothe the fear in Chip's heart. He watches his dad, desperately wishing he could understand, could fix him, could make him okay. But he knows he can't. Autism doesn't work that way. It's a part of Plankton, a part of their life, a part they have to navigate together. Karen checks Plankton's pulse, relief flooding her when she feels his steady heartbeat. She turns to Chip. "He's okay," she assures. "Just needs some time to recover." Her voice is calm. But Chip's heart won't slow down. His eyes are wide with fear, his breaths coming in quick gasps. "Dad," he whispers, his voice shaky. Karen nods, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Let's take him to the hotel," she says, gently. "He'll be okay. Get your prizes, and get to the car." Chip nods, his hands shaking as he picks up his trophy and ribbon. He watches as his mother lifts his father with care, her eyes filled with fierce determination. She knows Plankton better than anyone.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 15 Karen's arms wrap around Plankton's slender form, his head lolling back against her shoulder. Her eyes are filled with a mix of love and exhaustion. The weight of her husband seems to double as she carries him out of the lobby, his antennae brushing against her cheek. The world outside the science fair seems to fade away as they move to their parked car. Chip follows closely, his small hand clutching his trophy, his ribbon fluttering in the breeze. The car door opens with a metallic creak, and Karen gently lowers Plankton into his seat. His body is limp, his eye still closed. She buckles him in, her movements precise and careful, as if handling a fragile piece of glass. The engine roars to life, and they pull away from the curb, leaving the science fair and its chaos behind. Chip sits in the backseat, his eyes never leaving his father's face as they arrive at the hotel's parking lot. Karen's breaths are deep and even as she lifts Plankton once again, his body heavier than it was before. The cool night air brushes against his antennae, but there's no response. "Come on, Plankton," she whispers, as if her voice could coax him back to reality. With each step towards the hotel, his weight seems to increase, but Karen's strength doesn't waver. She's done this before, carried his burden when he couldn't bare it himself. The doors slide open with a whoosh, the lobby's warmth enveloping them. The bellhop looks up from his desk, his smile faltering at the sight of their distress. "Is everything okay?" He asks, his voice tentative. Karen nods, a single tear escaping down her cheek. "Just tired," she lies, her voice strained from the weight of her words. They make their way to their room. In the quiet of their hotel chamber, Karen gently lays Plankton on the bed, his antennae flaccid against the pillow. Chip watches from the doorway, his trophy and ribbon forgotten by the sight of his father's stillness. "Dad?" He whimpers, his voice quivering. Plankton doesn't respond. "Dad," Chip tries again. He sets his trophy and ribbon on the nightstand, his eyes never leaving his father's face. The room is silent, save for the faint humming of the air conditioner and the distant sound of laughter from the hallway outside. Plankton's antennae tips twitch slightly, a small sign of life that offers Chip a tiny sliver of hope. "Dad?" Chip says again, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye slowly opens, his pupil dilating as he adjusts to the soft light of the hotel room. He looks at Chip, his gaze uncertain, as if seeing him for the first time. "Chip?" He whispers, his voice hoarse. Chip rushes to his side, his small hands gripping the covers. "You're awake," he says, his voice filled with relief. Plankton's antennae lift slightly. "What happened?" He asks, his voice weak. Karen sighs, sitting beside him on the bed. "You had a bit of an overload, honey," she says, her hand smoothing his antennae. "But you're okay now." Chip watches his dad, his heart racing. "You were saying sorry," he says softly. "For not showing you were proud of me." Plankton blinks, his antennae twitching as his thoughts realign. "Oh," he says, his voice still weak. "I'm sorry, Chip." Chip shakes his head. "You don't have to be sorry," he says, his voice trembling with emotion. "I just wanted you to be happy, for me." Plankton's antennae rise, his eye widening slightly. He tries to sit up, but his body betrays him, weak from the overwhelming stimulation. Karen quickly supports his back, her expression a mix of love and concern. "I was happy," Plankton says, his voice gaining strength. "So proud." He pats the bed. "Come here," he whispers, his voice unusually gentle. Chip crawls onto the bed. The two sit silently for a moment, their bodies close, their eyes locked. It's a rare moment of physical intimacy for Plankton, who's usually so guarded about his personal space. But now, his barriers are down, and he's opening himself up to his son. "I'm sorry," Plankton says again, his voice quivering with the weight of his words. "I don't know how to show it, Chip. But I'm so proud of you." His voice is raw, emotions laid bare. Chip scoots closer. "It's ok, Dad," he says, his voice shaky. "I know you're proud. I can see it." Plankton's body relaxes. He looks at Chip, really looks at him, his eye searching. "You see it?" He asks, his voice hopeful. Chip nods, his eyes shining with tears. "I see it, every day," he says. "When you help me with my homework, when you're there for me." He swallows hard, his voice thick with emotion. "I see it when you try so hard to be part of things." Plankton's antennae quiver. "But not today?" He asks, his voice vulnerable. Chip shakes his head, his voice steady. "Today too, Dad," he says. "You were proud today. You just had a hard time showing it." Karen's eyes brim with tears as she watches her family. This is what she's fought for, this understanding. This connection. Plankton's expression softens. "Thank you, Chip," he whispers. "Thank you for seeing me. You wanna share this bed with me?" Chip nods eagerly, scooting closer to his dad as Karen tucks them in. And for the first time, Plankton lets himself lean on Chip's shoulder. Chip feels the weight of his father's head on his shoulder, and it's comfortable in a way he has never felt before. His dad's antennae brush against his cheek, and he doesn't flinch. Rather, he leans in closer, his arm wrapping around Plankton's tiny form, pulling him closer. The warmth of his father's body, the steady beat of his heart, it's all Chip needs to feel the love he's always known was there. "It's okay, Dad," he whispers, his voice filled with understanding beyond his years.

𝑉𝑜𝑖𝑑 𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒 ☯︎ 𝑉𝑜𝑖𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡 ♡ : ✧ I’ve always had a perfect void concept. ✧ Why am I just a master at entering the void state at will ? ✧ It is natural for me to enter the void state easily. ✧ It is natural for me to enter the void state within minutes. ✧ Regardless of everything, I enter the void state within seconds. ✧ Every void state method has always worked for me. ✧ I naturally go the void state effortlessly. ✧ All my attempts at the void was successful. Because I said so! ✧ My void concept is Top tier. ✧ It’s a Fact that , I am a master of the void state. ✧ I have mastered the void state and it obeys me instantly. ✧ It’s a fact that I Manifest Faster than the void state. ✧ I know I am a master of the void state. 𝐴𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴𝑤𝑎𝑘𝑒 ♡ : ✧ I Am . ✧ I am God . ✧ I am pure consciousness not attached to any reality . ✧ I am the void . ✧ I am in the void state . ✧ I am void . ✧ I am pure awareness . ✧ I’m getting in the void right now . ✧ My mind is awake and my body is asleep. ✧ I intend to enter the void state right now . ✧ Regardless of everything , I am entering the void right now. 🌌 𝑊𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑉𝑜𝑖𝑑 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒♡ : ✧ I have mastered waking up in the void being aware. ✧ I always wake up in the void every night , aware. ✧ Sleeping naturally takes me instantly into the void aware. ✧ My subconscious mind always wake me up in the void state as soon has I fall asleep . ✧ It’s a fact that I always wake up in the void state aware. ✧ Regardless of everything, it’s a fact that I awake up in the void state every night. ✧ Why do I always wake up in the void state every night? ✧ I command my subconscious to take me to the straight as soon has I fall asleep. ✧ I literally have to sleep too wake up in the void state.

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

　󠀽󠀪󠀣

ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵒʷⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸᶻᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵃᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵃᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ‧ ᴹᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ⸴ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᶠᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᴾᵃⁿⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ! ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗʸ? ᴼ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉ ᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵇˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵖᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸˑ “ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈᵎ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧” ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ˒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᔆᵉᵐⁱ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉˑˑˑ" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ⁱᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ˢʷᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢᶰᵉˢˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ‧ “ᴴʳ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵘᵐᵐᶤᶰᵍ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿˑ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ‧ “ᵂʰᵃ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈᵎ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ˒ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡˑˑˑ” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ˒ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉˣⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˢᵗᵘᵖᵒʳ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶤᶰᵍ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᶤᵗ˒ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶠˡᵒᵒᵈᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ‧ “ᴴᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᵂʰᵉ… ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ; ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ?” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠᵉᵃʳᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᴴᵉʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧ “ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ⸴ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ‧ ᵘᶰᵗᶤˡ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵉᶰᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ…” “ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˡᵉˢˢⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁿ⁻ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵒⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢᵎ” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ…” “ᵁᵍ⸴ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜʳʸ‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʷʳᵃᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵃ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷˀ” ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ…” “ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧” “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ‧‧‧” “ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ˒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ; ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵠᵘᶤᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˀ” “ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈᵉᵈ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵉˡˢᵉ'ˢ…” “ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ’ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉᵎ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒˀ” “ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʳᵃᵐᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˀ” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᴾⁱⁿᵏʸ ᵃ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᔆᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉᵎ” “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ…” “ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉ…” “ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˢᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿ…” “ᵂʰʸˀ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒ…” “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰᵉ…” “ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵒᶠˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᶠᶠᵎ” ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ “ᵂᵉ’ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᴾᵃᵗ‧‧‧” “ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵃ‧” ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ “ᴴᵘⁿᵍʳʸˀ” “ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ “ᴱʰ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷˀ ᴵ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸᶻᵉʳ‧‧‧” ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ “ᵀʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ʸᵉᵎ” ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ ʲᵒᵇ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇʸᵉᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧ “ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈᵃʸ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵉ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ?" ᵁⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗᵉʳᵗᵒʳᵒᵘˢˡʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘⁿʳⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʳᵉˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴼʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ‧ “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ…” ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ʰᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵒⁿᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ “ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗᵎ ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ…” ᴴᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ "ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵃ ᵇˡᵘʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧

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

🫀🦴🦇🍰🥩🎀🌸💕🍓🕸🔪🩸💘

🌫️💭🕸️📻🪦🍽️🌑🕳️❔👁️‍🗨️🕒

˚₊*‧✶⋆.˳• ˖⋅꩜ ݁⋅*• ˖✶ ˖•˚₊

🤞🏻♾️🌌 domain expansion infinte void🌌 🌌

-`♡´-

∩――――∩ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ || ∧ ﾍ　 || 𝒊 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 || (* ´ ｰ`) | gaping hole in my soul |ﾉ^⌒⌒づ`￣ \ i don't know what about (　ノ　　⌒ ヽ \ just looking for something ＼　　||￣￣￣￣￣|| to fill the void 　 ＼,ﾉ|| 𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞, 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝒇 𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝕞𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖎 𝖘𝖒𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖏𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙 ᥆r mᥲᥡᑲᥱ ⍴᥆⍴ ᥲ ⍴іᥣᥣ? 𝗀ⱺ 𝗍ⱺ 𝖿α𐓣𝗍α𝗌𝗒 ᥣα𐓣ᑯ ωнєяє тнєяє'ѕ тιмє тσ кιℓℓ 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖🪐.𖥔 ݁ ˖

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⡟⡿⢯⡻⡝⢯⡝⡾⣽⣻⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠳⣏⠧⠹⡘⢣⠑⠎⠱⣈⠳⢡⠳⢭⣛⠷⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣝⣎⢣⠡⠌⣢⠧⠒⠃⠁⠈⠉⠉⠑⠓⠚⠦⣍⡞⡽⣞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣝⠮⡜⣢⠕⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠐⠄⡙⠲⣝⡺⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡹⢎⣳⠞⡡⠊⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣶⣶⣤⣤⣀⡈⠂⠄⠙⠱⡌⠳⣹⢎⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣟⣳⡝⡼⢁⠎⠀⡀⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄⠰⣄⠈⠓⢌⠛⢽⣣⡟⢿⠿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣽⠳⡼⢁⡞⠀⡜⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢸⢵⠀⠀⠁⠂⠤⣉⠉⠓⠒⠚⠦⠥⡈⠉⣙⢛⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣽⣏⢳⢃⣞⠃⡼⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢀⣀⠤⠐⢋⡰⣌⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣮⢳⣿⠶⠁⠖⠃⠀⠁⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠤⠐⠒⣉⠡⣄⠶⣭⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢉⡢⠝⠁⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠃⠿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⣀⢤⣰⣲⣽⣾⡟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⡚⠏⠁⠀⠐⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠂⣠⠀⣯⣗⣮⢿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⢯⡝⠠⠁⠀⠀⠠⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠢⣄⣀⡀⠐⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣄⣀⠤⣄⣤⢤⣖⡾⠋⢁⡼⠁⣸⡿⣞⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⣾⣵⣦⣶⣖⣳⣶⣝⣶⣯⣷⣽⣷⣾⣶⣽⣯⣶⠄⠈⠒⣤⣀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠋⠋⢁⣠⠔⠁⠀⢰⣿⣽⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡄⡀⡉⠛⠓⠶⠶⠒⠛⠋⠀⠀⢀⣼⣻⢷⣾⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣧⡵⣌⣒⢂⠀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣶⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣾⣷⣯⣿⣧⣿⣷⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🪐.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🪐.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🪐.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🪐.𖥔 ݁ ˖

ᴳᵒᵒᶠʸ ᴳᵒᵒᵇᵉʳˢ pt. 2 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵐʸ ⁱᶜᵉ⁻ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ!" "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ?" "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˢᵘᵍᵃʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵘᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵈ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ?" "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴬᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ‧‧‧" "ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ?" "ᴬᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵘˢ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘᵍᵃʳˢ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ʸᵉᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃˡˡ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐⁱˡˡⁱᵒⁿ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵃˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵉᵗᶜ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ‧ "ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᴵ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᴵ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᶠʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ'ˢ? ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ⁻ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱ! ᴴᵒʷ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ?" "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵐ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ʰᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁱᶜᵉ⁻ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᶠʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ‽" "ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵗʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" to be cont. Pt. 3

🛸　　　 　‘　°　　　•　　.’°•　　　🚀 ✯ 　　　★　*　　　　　°　 ‘ *　　“🛰 　°·　　                           🪐 .　　　•　° ★　•  ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇▇▆▅▄▃▁▂.

(⩌-⩌)

emptiness ‍‍‍‍‍‍

🍄 𝕀 𝕘𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕒 𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕠𝕚𝕕 🍄

•*.ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝓥𝓞𝓘𝓓 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ•*.

ִ ࣪𖤐 𖦹•.⋆ 🪐·∞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

‍empty nothing ‍‍‍‍‍‍

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 13 "You're a ret-" Chip screams. The words hang heavy in the air, each one a knife to Plankton's heart. He's spent his whole life trying to prove he's not, and in one moment, his son has reduced him to a cruel epithet. He feels the sting of tears in his eye, but his body won't let them fall. He's frozen, his mind racing. What did he do wrong? How could his own flesh and blood say something so hurtful? Karen jumps to her feet, her face a mask of fury. "Chip," she says, her voice dangerously calm. "That's enough." Chip turns to his mom, his eyes wide and wet. "But he just doesn't get it," he wails. Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes on her son, her voice steady. "Chip, Dad is not that word. He's autistic, and that means he processes things differently. He's always trying to understand you, just like you're trying to understand him." Chip's anger subsides, now replaced by guilt and confusion. He looks at Plankton, who's still frozen on the bench. "But I just wanted him to be happy for me," Chip says, his voice small. Karen kneels beside him, taking his hand. "And he is," she says firmly. "You just have to learn how to read his emotions differently." Chip frowns. "What do you mean?" He asks her. Karen takes a deep breath, her heart aching for both her son and her husband. "Your dad shows his love and pride in his own way, Chip. Sometimes, it's not the same as everyone else's." She looks at Plankton, who's still sitting on the bench, his antennae drooped low. "But that doesn't mean it's not there," she adds softly. "His autism just makes it harder for him to show it like other people do." Chip looks at Plankton, his chest tightening with regret. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely a whisper. Plankton doesn't move, but his antennae twitch slightly. "Dad, I'm sorry!" Chip repeats, his voice stronger. Plankton blinks, his eye swiveling towards Chip. "I don't get it," he said, his voice flat. "Chip what makes you think I wasn't pro-" But Chip doesn't let him finish. "You never cheer," he says, his voice breaking. "You never clap, you never jump around. You're always so still and quiet. It's like you don't even care. You say you're proud, but you don't show i---" Karen cuts him off with a gentle squeeze of his hand. "That's not true, Chip," she says, her voice calm. "Your dad shows his feelings in his own way. It's just different from what we're used to." She turns to Plankton, her expression softening. "Plankton, can you tell Chip how you felt when you heard he won?" But Plankton's in his own world now. "Chip won, Chip won, Chip won," he repeats, his eye unfocused. "I'm proud but, you don't show it, I'm sorry. I'm proud, I'm proud, Chip won. I'm proud. But you don't show it, I'm sorry," he says to the empty air. "Chip won." His voice is monotone, his body rocking slightly, his stim. "Chip, I'm proud, Chip won. But you don't show it. I'm sorry. I'm proud, I'm proud, I'm proud," he murmurs. The words repeat like a broken record, each one more painful than the last. Karen sighs, her heart breaking for her husband, and also her son. Chip stares at him. Plankton's stim doesn't stop, tears in his eye. "I'm proud, Chip won, I'm sorry. I'm proud," he continues, upset at himself. Karen steps forward, her eyes filling with compassion. "Plankton, you're doing just fine," she says, trying to cut through the repetitive phrase. "We know you're proud. It's okay." But Plankton's stim doesn't stop. "I'm proud. But you don't show it, I'm sorry. Chip won." His voice is mechanical, his thoughts locked in a painful loop. Karen sits beside him. "It's okay," she soothes. "Chip knows you're proud. You don't have to keep saying it." But the words don't stop, the stim a shield against his son's pain. "I'm proud, but you don't show it, I'm sorry. Chip won." His voice cracks, his antennae quivering with each syllable. Karen wraps her arm around his shoulders, pulling him into her embrace. "You're doing great, Plankton. We're all proud of Chip. We just have to remembe---" But Plankton can't stop, the phrase playing like a broken record in his mind. "I'm proud, but you don't show it, I'm sorry," he whispers, his antennae drooping. He can't look at his son, the hurt in Chip's eyes too much to bear. "Chip won." His voice is a whisper now, his body still. Karen's arms tighten around his shoulders. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothes. "You're doing your best." But he can't hear her over the hurt. "I'm proud," he whispers, his voice cracking. "I'm proud." Chip watches, his tears falling freely now. "Dad," he says, his voice thick with sorrow. "I know you're proud of me. I know you love me!" But Plankton's stim continues, his voice a sad refrain. "I'm proud, but you don't show it, I'm sorry. Chip won." Karen's eyes fill with tears. "Chip," she says softly, "Your dad's stim is his way of coping with his emotions right now. He's trying to say he's proud, but his brain's stuck in a loop." Chip wipes at his own tears, his heart aching. "I didn't mean to make him sad," he whispers. "I just wanted him to be happy." Karen nods, her own eyes wet. "I know, sweetheart," she says, her voice soothing. "And yet, it's hard for people with autism to show their feelings the way we do. And right now, your dad's feeling a lot of things. He's sorry he can't be like everyone else, but he's also really proud of you."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) "Gordon, I think it's happening," Ma Plankton said, her voice tight with both excitement and nerves. as she felt pressure build within her tiny frame. Her husband, Gordon Plankton, paused in his work. They've had lots of kids already, so Gordon Plankton knew the drill. Ma Plankton's antennae quivered, hinting at the imminent arrival of their newest addition. Gordon walks closer, his eye wide. "Ya think it's now?" The room was simple, but meticulously clean. Ma Plankton's bed was ready, filled with warm blankets at the hospital. Gordon had worked hard. Anticipation grew as Ma Plankton felt contractions. The nurse rushed in. "It's time," she announced, her claws clicking in efficiency, calm but firm. The nurse called for the doctor, who rushed in as the baby's tiny head started to emerge. But then it stopped, the baby unable to go any further. The doctor called for more staff, and the room was suddenly filled with medics. "Ma'am, we're going to need to assist. The baby's stuck. We must be careful to manually pull him out." The medical staff moved swiftly, their gloved hands interlocking to form a careful grip around the baby's tiny form. Sweat beaded on the doctor's forehead as she applied gentle but firm pressure. Ma Plankton gritted her teeth, her eye's squeezed shut as she bore down with all her might. Each push was met with resistance, the baby's struggle echoing her own internal fight. Gordon hovered nervously. The doctor's voice was steady. "Again, Ma. We're almost there." With a final, desperate heave, the baby's head was free. The medical staff paused, their eyes flicking to the X-ray ultrasonography. The doctor nodded to the nurse, who rolled it closer with quick, precise movements to baby Sheldon Plankton before comparing prenatal imaging to the new antenatal one. Ma's heart raced. "Is everything ok?" she asked, voice quivering. The doctor took a deep breath before speaking. "Ma'am, the birth was dystocic. Your baby's delivery was...complicated. But we managed to get Sheldon out safely." She paused, glancing at Gordon, then back to Ma. "Yet the birth impacted his brain structure irreversibly. As he was being born, Plankton experienced severe stress that affected his neural pathways. He has acquired autism." That was long ago. That was Sheldon Plankton's birth. His own neurodisability. Now, Plankton and Karen, who's learned every little thing about his autistic seizures and preferences, fell in love as they grew up. Eventually, Chip, their son adopted as a new- born, came into the picture. Plankton adored his son, yet Plankton's pride was why nobody else other than Karen knew he's neurodisabled. "Be home at least by dinner!" Karen had last told Chip before he went to play. Yet Chip came home earlier than that, and his parents didn't immediately know he'd arrived back. And that's how Chip accidentally found out about his dad's neurodisabilities. Karen had Plankton's special box of sensory items nearby, as he's exiting one of his mini seizures. Sometimes after a seizure, his neuroregressions can be alarmingly odd for those who wouldn't know. And now Chip saw them. Chip peeked into his parent's bedroom to find Plankton on his bed with Karen. Sheldon Plankton's postictal loopiness was something Karen had grown used to. After a seizure, Plankton often retreated into his own world, his thoughts tangled in sensory overload and confusion. He'd laugh at nothing, or become fixated on a random object with childlike wonder. This was his brain's way of recalibrating, of finding a new equilibrium amidst the chaos. On this particular afternoon, Chip watched from the doorway, his curiosity piqued. He saw his dad playing with a box of sensory toys, his eye alight with joy. There were squishy balls, fidget spinners, and even a special pillow. Plankton picked up a soft, fuzzy toy and strobed it in front of his eye, chuckling to himself. Karen noticed Chip's shadow in the doorway and turned to see their son watching them. Her expression softened. "Sweetie, come here," she called, patting the bed. "I need to talk to you about something." Chip approached cautiously, his eyes never leaving his father. He knew his dad was quirky, but he had never seen this. "Is he ok?" he asked, his voice small and uncertain. Karen took a deep breath, her hand resting on Plankton's shoulder as she turned to face their son. "Your dad's brain works differently, honey. Sometimes, when his body gets overwhelmed, he has these moments." Plankton, still in the throes of his postictal loopiness, noticed Chip and his eye lit up. He held out the fuzzy toy, still strobing it. "Meee!" He giggled, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. "Daddy has autism," Karen explained gently, her voice soothing. "And when he has a seizure, his brain needs some extra love and care to get back to normal." Chip's eyes widened. He heard about autism from school, but he never imagined his dad had it. He looked at Plankton playing with the toys, his movements erratic, yet somehow soothing. Plankton had always been so good at hiding it. Now, Chip realized that his dad's quirks weren't just quirks - they were his way of coping with a world that was often too loud, too bright, too much. He felt a pang of sadness, but also admiration. Plankton was so strong. Karen saw the wheels turning in Chip's mind. She knew this was a big revelation for him. "It's okay to feel confused," she assured him. "But what's important is that we support Daddy. He loves you so much, and this is just a part of who he is." Chip nodded slowly, still watching Plankton with the fuzzy toy. He was trying to process it all. Autism. Seizures. This secret. "Can I sit with him?" he asks tentatively. Karen smiles and nods, "Of course, honey." She moves over to make space for Chip on the bed. "Just remember to be gentle."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 2 Plankton, still in his sensory-induced giggle fit, notices Chip's approach. Chip sits carefully beside his father, the bed dipping slightly under his weight. He reaches out a hand, slow and steady, and touches the fuzzy toy. Plankton stops strobing it and instead hands it to Chip. "Yi," he says. Chip takes the toy, unsure what to do, but his dad's calm demeanor reassures him. He runs his thumb over the soft fur, feeling the tiny fibers tickle his skin. Plankton watches with a gentle smile. "Spin?" he asks, his voice a gentle rasp. Chip nods and starts to rotate the toy. Plankton's eye follows the motion, a look of contentment washing over his face. It was strange to see his dad like this, so... vulnerable. But Chip felt his own heart swell with love. As the toy spins, the colors blur into a mesmerizing whirl. Chip feels the tension in the room ease slightly. He's never seen his dad so open, so unguarded. It's like getting a glimpse into a part of Plankton that's been locked away. Yet Karen knows Plankton's not gonna be pleased when he comes out of it to see his son interacting with him and his sensory items! Plankton's giggles continue to fill the room as Chip spins the fuzzy toy, matching his dad's earlier rhythm. The colors swirl into a hypnotic dance, and for a moment, it's as if the world outside their bubble doesn't exist. Chip feels a strange connection forming, a bond born from this shared experience. Slowly, Plankton's laughter fades into quietude, his eye blinking rapidly as he begins to emerge from the loop. Karen watches closely, ready to step in if needed. But then Plankton's gaze meets Chip's. The boy's eyes are wide with understanding and concern. Plankton feels a sudden wave of self-consciousness sweep over him, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. He hadn't meant for Chip to see him like this, so exposed. The silence is thick with emotion as Plankton tries to piece together what happened. He knows he had a seizure, but his memories are hazy, like fragments of a forgotten dream. "Chip," Plankton starts, his voice gruff and defensive. "What are you doing here?" Chip jumps back. "I-I was just looking for you," he stammers. "But then I saw..." His voice trails off. Plankton snatches the toy away, his movements quick and jerky. "These are mine," he snaps. "Not for you." Chip's eyes water, the sudden anger from his dad catching him off-guard. He hadn't meant to intrude, but now he felt like he'd broken something fragile. "But Dad," Chip stammers, his voice quivering. "I didn't know. I ju—" "You shouldn't have been snooping!" Plankton snaps, trying to shield himself from his son's innocent curiosity. Karen sighs. The room is suddenly charged with tension. Chip's heart sinks. "Dad, I'm sorry," he whispers, his eyes glistening. "I didn't mean to—" "Out!" Plankton yells, his voice echoing sharply in the small space, cutting off Chip's apology. The boy jumps up from the bed, dropping the fuzzy toy, and runs out of the room. Karen sighs, exasperated. "Sheldon, that wasn't fair," she scolds, using his full name to convey her seriousness. Plankton's shoulders slump. "I just...I can't have him seeing me like this," he mutters, his voice tight. "Unfair is the fact that I have to deal with this, myself. Why did he have to find out like that?" Karen sits beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay to be upset, Plankton," she says, her tone kind but firm. "But you can't hide from Chip forever. You're his father, and he loves you. He's going to have questions." Plankton turns away, his eye misty. "I don't know how to explain it to him," he murmurs. "What if he thinks I'm weak?" Karen's hand tightens on his shoulder. "You're not weak," she says firmly. "You're strong, and you're brave. And autism is just a part of what makes you, you." Plankton nods slowly, his shoulders still tense. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. "Okay," he finally says, turning back to face her. "But what do I tell him?" Karen squeezes his hand. "You tell him the truth," she says gently. "You tell him that autism is just a part of who you are, and that you have good days and bad days, just like everyone else." Plankton nods slowly, taking another deep breath. He's always been good at hiding his condition, blending in with the rest of the world. But from the moment Chip was born, he knew he had to be a strong, stoic figure for his son. Yet now, with his secret out in the open, he feels exposed. He squeezes Karen's hand back, feeling a mix of fear and relief. "What if he's scared of me?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Karen shakes her head firmly. "He's not going to be scared, Plankton. He's going to be curious. And he'll love you just as much, if not more, for being honest with him." With a heavy sigh, Plankton nods. He knows his wife is right. It's time for Chip to understand his father's world, a place filled with sensory overload and silent battles. He finds Chip in his bedroom, curled up on the bed with a favorite book. The room is quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of pages turning. Plankton's heart clenches at the sight of his son's sadness. "Chip," he calls, his voice barely above a whisper. Chip looks up, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. He sees his dad standing there, looking so small and vulnerable, and his own walls crumble. He jumps up, running into Plankton's arms. "I'm sorry," he sobs, burying his face in Plankton's chest. But Plankton's body stiffens. He's not used to this kind of contact, especially when he's fresh from a seizure. The sensation of Chip's arms wrapped around him is too much, and he feels the beginnings of a meltdown brewing. He doesn't know how to tell his son that he needs space, that touch isn't always comforting. Gritting his teeth, Plankton endures the embrace for a moment longer before gently pushing Chip away. "Not now," he says, his voice strained. "I need...I don't need touch." Chip's eyes widen in regret. He steps back, his arms dropping to his sides. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice small. "I didn't know."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 3 Plankton takes a moment. He looks at Chip, really looks at him. "It's ok," he says, his tone a mix of sadness and resignation. "I know it's hard to understand, but I'm going to try to explain." He sits down. "You see, buddy, I have something called autism," Plankton begins, his voice shaking slightly. "It's like my brain has its own special rules. Sometimes it makes things easy for me, like remembering everything I've ever seen or heard. But other times, it makes the world too loud, too bright, too much to handle." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "And sometimes," Plankton continues, his antennae drooping slightly, "I have these moments called seizures. They're like when you get really, really dizzy and your body just needs a stop, except mine happens without much warning." Chip sits down beside him, his curiosity outweighing his sadness. "What were those toys in your bedroom for, Dad?" he asks. Plankton glances at the closed door, then back at Chip. "Those are my sensory toys," he explains, his voice still shaky. "They help me stay calm when things get restless. Like when I have a meltdown or a seizure." He pauses, gathering his thoughts. "You know how sometimes you get overwhelmed with homework, and you just need to take a break?" Chip nods. "Yeah," he says, his voice barely audible. Plankton sighs. "It's like that for me, but all the time." Chip nods. He remembers his dad's strange behaviors, his avoidance of certain textures and sounds, the way he'd always have to sit in the same spot at the dinner table. "It's like my brain wants those toys to reset, like when your game console freezes and you have to unplug it," Plankton says, trying to find a metaphor his son would relate to, relieved that his son is trying to understand. "And you get those...seizures?" Chip asks him. Plankton nods solemnly. "Yes, buddy," he says. "They're like storms in my head. They come and go, but when they're here, they're real big." He pauses, searching for the right words. "And when the storm is over, I can get this...funny feeling. That's when I might start laughing at things that aren't funny or thinking things that aren't there. It's like my brain's way of getting back to normal." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his father's face. "But it's not all bad," Plankton adds, trying to inject a little humor into the conversation. "Sometimes, my brain does cool things. Like when I can remember every single Krabby Patty formulation we've ever tried to steal. Or when I can see patterns that other people miss." He smiles faintly. "But it's not always fun. Sometimes it's really hard, and I need help. Your mom's been my biggest help," he tells his son. "Without her, I don't know what I'd do." Chip nods, his eyes welling up again. "I want to help too," he says determinedly. "What can I do?" Plankton's heart swells with pride. "You can just be you," Plankton tells him, his voice a bit stronger now. "And if I ever seem weird or different, just remember that I'm still me. That's all I ask." He pauses, then adds, "And maybe...maybe we can find some things that are soothing for me, together." Chip nods, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Okay," he says, his voice still shaky. "We can do that." Plankton smiles, the first genuine one since before his seizure. "Good," he says. "Because I'm not going anywhere, buddy. I'm still your dad, and I'm still the best darn Krabby Patty thief in Bikini Bottom." They share a tentative laugh, the tension in the room dissipating slightly. Chip wipes at his eyes, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "So, what now?" he asks. Plankton takes a deep breath. "Now, we move forward," he says. "You know about my autism, and you know I'll have moments. But I want you to understand that I'm okay." He looks at Chip, his eye searching for any lingering fear or confusion. "I've had this all my life." Chip nods, his gaze steady. "What about your seizures?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Plankton swallows hard, his antennae twitching nervously. "They're part of me too," he admits. "But with your mom and now you, I'm not alone. Now it's getting late. We all need to go to bed." Plankton goes to his shared room with Karen but Chip follows. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Chip asks, his voice hopeful. Plankton hesitates. He's a light sleeper, and even the faintest noise can wake him. "I don't know, Chip," he says, his voice thick with exhaustion. "I might wake you up with my movements." But Chip's hopeful expression is hard to resist. "Please, Dad," Chip whispers, his eyes pleading. "I want to be close to you." Plankton feels a lump form in his throat. He knows that Chip is just trying to process the new information, to understand his father's condition. He nods, his antennae drooping slightly. "Okay," he says. "But just roll over if I start making noise or moving around too much." Karen nods. "It's part of his autism." Chip then crawls into his dad's bed. Plankton's movements are slow and deliberate, his body still recovering from the seizure. He lies down, his antennae drooping. Karen tucks the covers around them both, giving them a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Sleep tight," she whispers before switching off the light.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 4 The room is plunged into darkness, and Plankton feels his body begin to relax. He's exhausted as his eye flutters closed, his breathing evened out. But Chip is wide awake, his mind racing with thoughts of his dad's revelation. He watches Plankton's chest rise and fall in the dim moonlight. He's never seen him so still, so peaceful. It's a stark contrast to the manic energy he usually exudes while scheming or running from Mr. Krabs. Plankton's breathing becomes steadier, a soft snore escaping his mouth as he slips into sleep. Chip lies there for a while, listening to the gentle rhythm, feeling the warmth of his father's body next to him. He notices Plankton's hand, lying open on the bed, fingers slightly curled. Without thinking, Chip reaches out and takes it. It's comforting. Plankton's hand twitches slightly in his sleep, but he doesn't wake up. Chip thinks back to all the times his dad had been there for him, the endless stories of adventure and mischief, the way he'd always made him laugh. Eventually later in the night, Chip starts to notice something new. His father's quiet snores are interrupted by his voice. "Mm... osem...," Plankton mumbled in his sleep, his hand twitching slightly in Chip's grasp. He'd never heard this before! Curiosity piqued, Chip listened closer, his dad's words growing clearer. "Neur...where... hiding...ula..." Plankton mumbled before his voice trailed off into another snore. It dawned on Chip that his dad was talking in his sleep. It was like his brain was still working on autopilot, processing things even when he wasn't conscious. The rest of the night goes without incident. The next morning, the sun peeks through the cracks in the curtains, Chip's eyes blinking open to the sight of his father, still sleeping soundly. Plankton's hand is still wrapped around his, their fingers entwined in a silent testament to their newfound bond. Chip smiles, feeling his heart swell with love. He's always known his dad was special, but now he understands why in a way he never did before. Karen stirs in the early morning light, glancing at the bed beside her. She knows this is a momentous step for Plankton, letting Chip in on his secret. She smiles gently as she watches Chip wake. "Good morning, Chip," she says, keeping her voice low so not to disturb Plankton. "How did you sleep?" Chip sits up slowly, his eyes wide. "I heard Dad talking in his sleep," he whispers, his face scrunched in puzzlement. "It was weird, but I liked it. It felt like he was still with me, even when he was dreaming." Karen nods, her smile soft. "That's his brain doing its thing," she says. "Sometimes people with autism have a harder time turning off their thoughts at night. It's like his brain is still working on all the patterns and things he loves. He doesn't always do it, but it's not uncommon." Chip looks thoughtfully at his dad. Plankton stirs, his eye opening to see Chip staring at him. He blinks a few times, then sits up, his antennae springing to life. "Ah, morning," he says, his voice groggy. Chip quickly pulls away his hand, but not before Plankton notices. He clears his throat, his gaze shifting away from his son. "How'd you sleep?" he asks, trying to sound nonchalant. But Chip doesn't miss the look of vulnerability in his dad's eye. "Good," Chip replies, his voice still quiet. "Why do you snore, Dad?" He asks, as Karen stifles her laughter. "Is that because of aut-" Plankton's antennae shoot up in alarm. "WHAT?" He cuts Chip off abruptly, his eye darting to Karen. She nods gently. "It's not an autistic trait, but many people do." But Plankton's mind is racing. He's never heard himself snore. The realization that his son has noticed something so intimate, something he wasn't even aware of, sends a jolt of panic through him. "I... I don't snore," he stammers, his antennae quivering. Chip looks confused. "But you did, Dad," he says, his voice still soft. Karen steps in, trying to ease the tension. "It's just how some people breathe when they sleep," she explains. "It doesn't mean anything's wrong with you. Now Chip, you won your school's science fair and are going to the final competition right? If so, we need to pack and get on the road, as it'll take all day for me to drive to the hotel the program booked!" Plankton nods, relieved at the change in subject. "Yes, yes," he says, his voice a bit too eager. "The science fair. Chip's going to win." He turns to his son. "You're going to make me proud, aren't you?" Chip nods, a hint of a smile on his face. "I'll do my best, Dad," he says. They start to pack, the morning air filled with the bustle of activity. Plankton moves around the room, his movements sharp and precise. Chip watches him, noticing how his dad's autism affects even the simplest of tasks. Everything has to be in its place, every item packed just so. "Mom, what about the sensory toys?" Chip asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern. Karen glances at Plankton, then back at her son. "We have another box in the car," she says, her voice calm. "But Dad doesn't need them every second." Plankton nods, his antennae still quivering. "Just ones for travel," he adds, his voice tight.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 5 As they pack the last of their things, Plankton can't help but wonder what the science fair will be like. So many people, so many sounds, so much to process. It's a minefield of overstimulation, but for Chip, he's gonna try. Bags in the trunk, Karen gets in the driver's seat as Plankton and Chip sit in the back together. "You okay, Dad?" Chip asks, his voice gentle. Plankton nods, his antennae still as the car starts with a purr. After leaving the driveway Chip notices his dad's humming to himself, a soft, steady rhythm. Plankton's hands are in his lap, fidgeting slightly as he focuses on the hum. "What are you doing?" Chip asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. Plankton jumps in his seat, antennae shooting up. "I'm... uh...just...thinking?" He's flabbergasted that his son has caught him stimming. He's still trying to process the idea that his son now knows his deepest, most personal secret. Chip's eyes widen. "Thinking?" He repeats. "With a so-" "Chip," Karen interrupts. She knows Plankton's stimming, which he never likes to speak of. Yet she also knew Chip's trying to understand, and decided it's time to explain. "Your dad's humming is a stim," she says gently, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. "It's something some autistic folks do to help manage their sensory input or self-soothe." Chip nods, filing away the new information. "Oh," he says, as Plankton freezes. "So Dad, is that why you sometimes do that spinning thing with your fing--" "Chip!" Plankton snaps, his voice harsher than he intends. So Karen jumps in. "Sweetie," she says, turning in the passenger seat to face her son, "Dad's stims are private. They're like his personal way of taking a deep breath when things get too much. He doesn't do it for anyone else, just for himself. And if he's alright with sharing them with us, that's his choice. But it's important we respect his privacy." Plankton's gaze meets hers in the rearview mirror, gratitude in his eye, hands stilling as Karen continued. "And unless he says so, it's not for us to bring up or comment on them," she explains to Chip. "So your dad hums, or flaps his arms, or rocks his body, even muttering to himself. They're all his ways of stimming, and aren't to be interrupted or discussed unless he initiates it. If he seems distressed, you can ask if he needs anything, but otherwise, just be there for him." Chip nods, his face a picture of concentration. "Ok, Mom," he says. "But could, can I tr-" "NO!" Plankton's voice cuts through the car, sharp and sudden. He turns to face his son, his eye blazing. "I don't want you staring at or making fun of me!" Karen's eyes meet Plankton's in the mirror, filled with a mix of love and frustration. She knew this outburst is rooted in fear and vulnerability. "Chip wasn't trying to, Plankton," she says. Chip shrinks back, his face reddening. "I'm so sorry," he stammers. Plankton's face softens, his antennae drooping. "I know," he murmurs. "It's just...it's hard." Karen nods. "So the science fair is gonna be tomorrow, so the hotel we're going to tonight has reserved the contestants and their families rooms! So the three of us are gonna have to share the hotel room." Plankton's antennae twitch. "And, Dad," Chip says, his voice full of excitement. "It's going to be so cool! There'll be so many science lovers like us!" Plankton nods, trying to mirror his son's enthusiasm, but inside he's panicking. So many people, so many potential triggers. But he can't let Chip see his fear. He takes a deep breath, his hand against his own seat in a stim. "Yea." The car ride is quiet for a while, and Plankton finds himself getting drowsy. He fights the urge to close his eye. He knows if he dozes off, he'd be embarrassed, and he can't let that happen now, not with Chip watching him so closely. He focuses on the scenery passing by, the rhythm of the car's tires on the road, anything to keep himself awake. But it's a losing battle. His eyelid keeps drooping, his brain begging for rest. He starts counting the yellow lines on the road, then switches to red cars, but the monotony of it all just makes him sleepier. His head nods, and he jolts awake with a start, his heart racing for a moment. Chip glances at his father. "You okay, Dad?" Plankton nods, his antennae twitching with the effort to stay awake. "Fine, buddy," he says. But his body feels heavy, like he's sinking into the car seat. He decides to try distraction. "So, tell me more about your science fair schedule," he asks, hoping that his son's excitement will keep him alert. Chip's face lights up. "Well, tomorrow we've got the setup in the morning, then the judging starts right after lunch." He rattles off the various categories and his predictions for each, his voice rising and falling with enthusiasm. Plankton nods along, trying to keep up with the flurry of information. But his eyelid starts drooping again. "And then there's the final round!" Chip says, his voice carrying on despite Plankton's fading attention. "I've got my experiment all set up by myse—" Plankton's snore cuts his son off mid-sentence as his head lolls, his mouth slightly open, to Chip's shoulder. Chip looks at Karen in the front seat, her eyes glancing back at them in the mirror with a knowing smile. "It looks like he's really tired," she says, keeping her voice low. "It's okay to let him sleep." Chip nods, feeling a wave of protectiveness over his father. He chuckles, taking a selfie with Plankton's sleeping face on his phone. He forwards the selfie to Karen's phone. She tries not to giggle. "Oh, Chip," she smiles, "Dad's not gonna take that too kindly when he wakes up."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 6 Plankton snores softly, his antennae twitching slightly with each breath. Chip can't help but watch him, the snores reminding him of the moments they shared the night before. Karen keeps her eyes on the road, her mind racing. She's proud of how Plankton's trying to be more open about his condition, but she knows how much effort it takes for him to do so. And she's equally proud of Chip for his own understanding and love. Plankton slept as they finally pulled up to the hotel parking lot that evening. Karen looked back at them. "Wake up, sweetie," she said gently, her hand on Plankton's shoulder. "We're here." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, but his eye remained closed. "Mmph," he murmured, his hand moving to cover his face. Karen smiled. "Come on, Plankton," she urged. "Chip's eager to see the hotel." She shakes his shoulder gently. He jolts awake, his eye shooting open. "What?" He asks, his voice groggy. Chip laughs. "The hotel, Dad!" He says. "We're here!" Plankton blinks rapidly, trying to clear his vision. He's embarrassed that he fell asleep in the car, embarrassed they had to wake him up. He sits up too quickly, his antennae straightening out. "Oh, right," he says, trying to cover discomfort with a forced smile as Karen got the bags. Entering the hotel, kids were everywhere, even though the fair's not tonight. Parents were chatting in the lobby as contestants mingled. Karen noticed Plankton's discomfort immediately, his grip tightening on her hand. "Let's get to our room," she says, checking in. The room is a typical hotel suite, clean and impersonal. Plankton looks around, his antenna twitching. Chip bolts to the window, his eyes wide at the view of the city scape. "Wow, Dad, look at the lights!" Plankton's gaze follows Chip, but his mind is racing. He's overwhelmed. Karen sees the look on his face. "Why don't you sit down, Plankton?" He nods, his body moving mechanically to a bed by the wall. Karen got his travel bag of sensory items and fidgets. "Thank you, Karen," he murmurs, his body rocking slightly. She nods, understanding as she gets out his rod blackout curtain to set-up around Plankton's bed. Chip watches curiously as his mom hangs it up. "Why a curtain, Mom?" he asks. Karen then explains, "It's to block out the extra light and muffle the sound. It'll help Dad feel more comfortable." Plankton nods, his body relaxing slightly as the curtains are drawn. Chip nods, his curiosity piqued. He reaches and pulls out a small, squishy ball from his bag. "This helps?" He asks, holding it. "Don't!" Plankton snaps, his voice sharp as a knife. Chip's hand freezes mid-air, his eyes wide with surprise and hurt. "But you said-" "Chip," Karen gently interrupts, seeing the hurt on her son's face. "Those are Dad's special things. They're not toys for everyone." Chip looks down, his hands dropping. "I'm sorry, Dad," he says softly, his voice thick with disappointment. "I didn't know." Plankton's antennae droop, guilt swamping him. "It's okay," he mumbles, his voice tight. "Just... please, respect my space!" The room is quiet except for the distant hum of the city outside. Karen sets up his bag on the bedside table, her movements calm and precise. Plankton takes the squishy ball, his fingers digging into the soft material. He starts to bounce it slightly, the rhythmic motion helping to ease his nerves. Karen gives him a knowing look, sitting next to him on the bed. "Let's tell Chip what you're feeling?" she suggests. "It'll help him underst--" "I don't know how!" Plankton interrupts, his frustration clear. He throws the ball onto the carpet. "I don't know how.." Karen's expression softens. "Plankton, you just need to tell him how you feel." She takes his hand in hers. "He loves you. He just wants to help." But Plankton's on the verge of a meltdown. Chip's eyes widen as his father starts to rock back and forth, his hands flapping slightly. He's never seen his dad like this before, and it scares him. "Dad, what's happening?" Chip asks, his voice quivering. Karen steps in, placing a hand on Chip's shoulder. "Remember, Chip; your dad's stims are personal," Karen says gently. "They're not for us to take or use without his permission. Just because we know about them, doesn't mean we should invade his space." She looks at Plankton, her eyes full of empathy. "It's alright Plankton, you can keep doing what you need to do," she adds. Chip nods. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispers. "I didn't know." Plankton keeps rocking. "So much... stuff. Too much... stuff." He murmurs. Chip nods. "It's okay, Dad. You can do your st-" "Don't!" Plankton's voice cracks, his stims increasing. "It's mine," he snaps. "Just for me!" His body rocks faster, his hands flapping more in agitation. "It's okay, Chip," Karen says softly, her voice steady. "Let him have his space." Chip nods, his eyes still on his father. He can see the tension in Plankton's body, the way his hands move. He's never seen his dad so lost in his own world. He sits down on the bed. He wants to help, but he doesn't know how. Karen wraps her arms around Chip, pulling him into a hug. "It's okay," she whispers. "Dad's just overwhelmed. But those stims are for him. They're his way of trying to make sense of the world." Chip nods. "Can I get a fidget sensory toy from hi-" "NO!" Plankton's voice cracks like a whip, his eye snapping to Chip. "It's not for you to touch!" Chip's eyes drift to Karen. "It's okay, Chip," she soothes, her voice a gentle whisper. "These are Dad's personal tools for managing his moments." She gestures to the sensory bag on the adjacent nightstand. "We respect that." Chip nods slowly, his gaze still on his dad's twitching antennae. He feels a pang of sadness, a desire to fix what he can't understand. "I just want to he--" "NO!" Plankton suddenly shouts, his antennae straightening. "You don't know! You can't know!" His voice shakes with rage, his body trembling. "You can't just... take my things and use them like they're yours!" His hands slam the bed as Karen quickly moved between them, her hands up. "Plankton," she says firmly, her voice calm. "You're upset. It's okay. We're here for you." But Plankton's seething now, his breaths quickening.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 7 Chip starts to move closer, but Karen's quick shake of the head stops him. She knows Plankton needs space, and he's agitated, so he's on the verge of a full-blown meltdown. "Back off," Plankton growls, his voice low and threatening to Chip. His body's stiff, and Karen knows she has to act fast before the situation escalates any further. "Chip, Dad needs a moment. Pick the bed you want and I'll get you set up," Karen says, her voice firm but kind. She knows this is hard for her son, but Plankton's needs have urgency. Reluctantly, Chip goes through the curtain, choosing the bed farthest from his dad's, feeling like he's pushed away. Plankton's breaths are ragged, for he's angry at Chip's invasion of his personal space, his private mechanisms for coping with the overwhelming world. Karen sits by his side. "Plankton, sweetie," she says calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Wanna talk about it?" Her touch is gentle, but his antennae flinch. He's still reeling from the sensory overload and his son's innocent mistake. She can see the turmoil behind his single eye and retreats her hand. He turns away, his back to her, his body still rigid. "I'm not mad at you," he whispers. "I'm mad at myself, and Chip." Tears form in his eye. Karen's hand still remains hovering for a moment before she decides against touching him again. "Mad at yourself?" she asks gently, her voice a soft caress. "Why?" Plankton sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I can't control it," he says. Karen nods. "You don't have to," she says, her voice soothing. "Your autism is yours. It's part of you, and we love all of you." Plankton's antennae twitch again, his body needing the release of his stims as Chip comes back through the curtain. Plankton resumes his rocking as he starts talking to himself. "I can't believe it," he mumbles. "My own son, my own son.." Chip watches his dad, his heart heavy with sadness. He doesn't know what to do, what to say. He just wants to help. He approaches Plankton's bed, his steps cautious. "Dad, can I sit with yo--" "STOP STARING at me!" Plankton snaps. Chip's eyes widen in surprise, his heart racing. He didn't mean anything by it, but he knows he's upset his dad. "I'm not staring, Dad," he says quickly, taking a step back. "I just..." But Plankton's too lost in his own world to notice, his stims taking over as he talks to himself. "I'm here," he whispers, his voice barely a murmur. "So here." His hands keep flapping, his body rocking. Karen sits quietly beside the bed, watching her husband. She knows he's trying to process the world around him. She wishes to make it easier. Chip watches his father, his heart aching. Tension is thicker than the blackout curtains that hang around Plankton's bed. Plankton's hands kept on flapping. "I can't know this," he says. "Can't...can't... can't know it." Karen looked at Plankton, her heart heavy. She knew the pressure mounting on him, and wished she could just take it all away. She moved closer. "Plankton," she whispers. "Can I help?" Her hand reaches out, but stops just short of his arm. She doesn't want to startle him. He doesn't look at her, his focus inward. "Who's always watching," he murmurs. "Will don't do, it's not. Tell to me. Don't know, don't know, don't know..." Karen's hand hangs in the air for a moment before she slowly withdraws it, giving him the space he needs. Chip's eyes well up with tears. "Dad, I'm not wa-" "NOT FOR YOU!" Plankton yells, his voice echoing in the small hotel room. He flaps his hands harder, the frustration escalating. Chip's voice cracks. "Dad, I'm not watching!" He says a bit too loud and sudden. Plankton starts to cry, tears leaking out of his single eye as he continues to talk to his stims. "No no, no. Isn't for one, tone. Not too much." His voice hitches in between his crying. Karen's eyes are wet, watching Plankton's painful self-talk. "Chip," she whispers, "Do NOT raise your voice like that to your dad. Not only is it uncalled for, but it can be traumatizing to him." Chip nods, his face going pale. "I'm sorry," he whispers to the space between them. "I didn't mean to..." Plankton's mumbling becomes more coherent, his words mixing with sobs. "Know tone on watch, not does, no one knows. Alone, always alone." His antennae wave frantically, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. Chip's heart breaks as he watches his dad's pain. He's never seen him like this before, so vulnerable, so lost in his own thoughts. He wants to reach out, his hand extending again. "You're not al—" But Karen's hand stops him, her eyes firm. "Let him have his moment," she whispers, squeezing his shoulder gently. Plankton sobs as he hiccoughs between phrases, his voice soft. "Must be quiet, can't let for know." He's speaking to his stims, his voice barely a murmur. Karen's eyes are full of immense love and sadness. She wants to hold him, to comfort him, but knows the boundary. Instead, she watches over him. Chip watches, his heart in his throat. He feels like he's intruding, but he can't just ignore his dad's pain. He swallows hard. "Dad," he says, his voice quiet. "You're not a-" "I KNOW!" Plankton's voice cracks. He turns to face Chip. His sobs become louder, more desperate. Chip feels his chest tighten. "Dad," he says slowly, "I didn't mean to up-" "Do you HAVE to keep on interrupting me‽" Plankton accuses. Chip shrinks back, his eyes filling with remorse. "Dad, I'm sorry, I just want you to know I'm here for yo-" "NO!" Plankton's voice is a whipcrack, cutting off his son's words. "I don't need your pity!" He turns away, his body wracked with sobs, his antennae thrashing about. Karen watches helplessly, her heart in her throat. She understands his pain, his need for solitude, but also the hurt in Chip's eyes as he crawls onto Plankton's bed, his body tentative. But Plankton's having none of it! "Get OFF!" Plankton's voice is sharp. Chip flinches, his eyes filling with tears. "Dad, I ju—" "I said, GET OFF!"

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 8 Chip's eyes well up, his body shaking. He doesn't understand why his dad is so angry with him. He thought he was just trying to help. "Dad, please," he whispers, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I just wan–" "NO!" Plankton shouts, pushing his son away. Plankton's sobs turn to heavy breaths. Karen watches them both, her heart breaking. Chip's eyes brim with tears as he retreats, his voice barely a whisper. "But Dad..." Plankton turns to his side, his back facing Chip, his antennae thrashing violently. "I'M TRYING!" He screams into the silent room. Chip then makes the mistake of putting his hand on his dad's shoulder. "Don't touch me!" Plankton shrieks, his body jolting. The room seems to shrink around them, the tension pressing down like a heavy wet blanket. Chip feels a wave of fear wash over him. He's seen his dad upset before, but never like this. He moves his hand away, his throat tight. "I'm so sor—" "I SAID, DON'T TOUCH ME!" Plankton's scream reverberates through the room, echoing off the walls as his sobbing turns to anger, his body stiff as he glares at Chip. Chip jumps back, his heart racing. He's never seen his dad like this, so out of control. He looks to Karen, his eyes wide with fear. "What's happe—" "Chip," she says quickly, her voice sharp with urgency. "Give him some space. Now." She moves closer to Plankton, her hand outstretched but not touching, giving him the option. Chip nods, his face crumpled with hurt and confusion. He retreats to his own bed, his eyes on the floor. The room feels like it's closing in on them, the silence deafening. Plankton's sobs turn to angry grunts as his breaths become more pronounced. Karen sits next to Plankton, her hand hovering near his, but not touching. "It's okay, babe," she whispers. "We're here." Plankton's body tenses further. "I DON'T NEED CHIP'S HELP!" He doesn't wanna lash out, yet Karen knows he needs to let out the storm inside. She can feel the energy building in Plankton, his body a coil ready to snap. With a sudden explosion of rage, Plankton yells, "I'M THE ONE WITH A PROBLEM‽" Plankton's limbs flail erratically, his voice hoarse from screaming. Karen's heart aches for him, for the pain he's in, the pain he can't express in any other way. She needs to redirect his energy. "Plankton," she says firmly, her hand still hovering just out of reach. "Take a deep breath." But Plankton's too far gone. He starts to kick the bed, the mattress shaking as his body thrashes. Karen flinches, but doesn't move as the tantrum intensifies, his tiny fists slamming into the mattress. Karen's eyes are wide, her body tense, but she remains calm, knowing that this is part of his coping mechanism. He kicks the bed harder, his fists clenching the covers. Yet Karen remains steady, her voice calm and firm. "Hey, look at me," she instructs, her hand still hovering. "Take a deep breath with me." He doesn't move, his fists clenched in the sheets. Her voice doesn't waver. "In and out, babe. In and ou-" Suddenly, Plankton's body goes rigid. He inhales deeply, his antennae shaking with the effort. His eye snaps to hers, his breath hitching. For a moment, there's silence. Karen holds her breath, noticing he's gonna have one of his seizures. Then as Chip comes back through the curtain Plankton starts to shake as it finally took over. Karen tucks Plankton in loosely. "Dad?" Chip asks, his voice shaking. Karen's eyes dart to him, filled with the knowledge that he's gonna be fine. "It's ok Chip," she whispers. "Just watch from here." Plankton's body shakes harder, his breaths coming in short bursts. He's lost in a world of sensory overload, his body reacting to the chaos around him. Karen strokes his arm gently. "It's ok, Plankton," she whispers. "We are right here." The seizure lasts for a few moments, and as it now subsides, Plankton's body goes limp with exhaustion. Karen knew his postictal phase can bring on some loopiness. Plankton's antennae twitch erratically, his eye unfocused. He giggles, a sound so unlike his usual self. "Karen? Oh! You're so...shiny." Karen can't help but smile at her husband's post-seizure loopy state. "Yes, I'm right here," she says. Chip's eyes are wide with worry, his voice a tremble. "Is he okay?" Karen nods, her smile tinged with sadness. "He's in his post- seizure phase. It's normal for him to be like this." Plankton giggles again, his voice slurred as he tries to sit up, his body wobbly. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he mutters. He then reaches for Karen, his hand missing by a mile. Chip watches, his heart racing. He's seen his dad act weird before, but never like this.. "It's part of his autism, Chip," Karen explains gently, her hands steady. "After a big meltdown or usually a seizure, he can get disoriented." Plankton's head lolls to the side, his antennae twitching erratically. "You're...so...far away..." He giggles, his body swaying slightly with the effort of speech. Karen takes his hand, her eyes understanding. "You're fine." Plankton's hand shakes in hers, his eye half-closed. "No, no, I wanna... play." He giggles again, his body lurching forward. Karen sighs. "I wanna go on an adventure," he slurs, his body listing to one side. Karen tightens her grip on his hand, keeping him grounded. "We can go on an adventure later, babe," she promises. "For now, let's just get some sleep. It's bedtime for all of us!" Plankton's giggles turn into a snore, his body going limp. Karen gently guides him to lie down, his breathing evening out. She covers him with the blanket, his antennae twitching slightly.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 9 Chip watches, his eyes red from crying. "Is he okay?" He asks again, his voice small. Karen nods, wiping her own tears away. "He'll be okay," she whispers. "We just need to rest now." Chip crawls into his own bed, his thoughts racing. He doesn't know what to make of his dad's outburst or the seizure. He feels scared and alone. Karen notices and comes to sit beside him. "Chip," she says gently. "Dad's okay. This can happen. It's just how his brain works. It gets overwhelmed. Now when he's like that, it's important we let him be, okay?" Chip nods, his throat tight. "But I di-" "You didn't do anything wrong," Karen cuts him off. "You just didn't understand. And that's okay." She smiles at him, her eyes warm. "He just gets frustrated when his stims are interrupted. It's his way of dealing with the world." Chip nods, watching his mom as she carefully organizes Plankton's sensory items back. "But why does he let you when he doesn't let me—" "Because, Chip," Karen says, her voice still gentle, "I know how to support his stims without causing him more distress. You'll learn too, with time." She picks up the fidget toy, her eyes on Plankton's still form. "Remember, his needs are different than ours. Sometimes, his brain needs extra help to make sense of things, and these stims are a way of doing that." Chip nods, his understanding growing. He watches as Karen places the toys back into the bag. "But why'd he yell?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not that he doesn't love you," Karen explains. "It's just that sometimes, his brain feels like it's going a million miles an hour, and his body needs to catch up." She looks at Plankton's sleeping form. "When you touched him, his fidgets you stopped that for him. And it was too much to handle. So he could only express his frustration." Chip's eyes never left his dad's peaceful expression. "But he was so mad..." "It's not you, Chip. It's the world," Karen sighs. "Sometimes, it's just too much for him. And when that happens, he needs his stims." She stands up, moving to Plankton's side of the bed. "Let's let Dad sleep now. Tomorrow's a big day.." The next morning, Karen went in through Plankton's curtain to wake him. "Hey, sleepyhead," she whispers, her hand brushing his shoulder gently. "It's time to get up." Plankton's antennae twitch as he opens his eye, looking around disoriented. "Whaa-" he mumbles. Karen smiles softly, his post-seizure loops already worn off. "Good morning," she says, helping him sit up. "It's time for the science fair. Let's wake Chip up, ok?" Plankton nods slowly. He can remember the stimming and his outburst at Chip. He sighed. "I'm sorry," he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep. "I didn't mean to..." "You don't have to apologize," Karen says, interrupting him. "You were just trying to cope." She helps him to his feet, her hands steady. "We'll talk to Chip about it after I wake him." Plankton nods, his eye still half-closed. He follows Karen to Chip's bed, feeling guilt heavy in his heart. His son's sleeping form is peaceful. "Chip," Karen says gently, shaking him awake. "It's time for the science fair, buddy!" Chip blinks, the memory of last night's events flooding back. He looks at Plankton, his heart aching with guilt and fear. Plankton sees the look on Chip's face and sighs, sitting down on the bed beside him. "Hello." Chip's voice is barely above a whisper. "Hi, Dad." Karen watches them both, knowing that now is the time for Plankton to try and explain. But his words are stuck, his mouth dry. He doesn't know how to put into words his regret for last night's outburst. "Chip," Plankton begins awkwardly. "I...I uh, I-I-I-I…" He stammers, his antennae twitching with the effort of finding the words. Karen watches with concern, knowing his difficulty with expressing emotions, especially in moments like these. "It's okay," she murmurs, her hand on his back. Chip looks at his dad, his eyes questioning. He's seen Plankton stim before, but his stuttering is new, his body seemingly frozen with anxiety. Plankton's antennae wave nervously. "I...I'm I-I'm, I-I-I-I…" He tries to say sorry, but the word is stuck, his brain racing. Karen's hand squeezes his shoulder, silent support. "It's okay," she whispers. "Take your time." Plankton's antennae twitch faster, his face contorted with the effort to articulate his thoughts. "I...I..." his voice cracks. He looks at Chip, his son's gaze filled with concern and fear. The silence stretches between them, a tense wire threatening to snap. Plankton knows he must find the words, must explain his behavior, but his mouth refuses to cooperate. His mind whirls with the desire to apologize, but the words are elusive. Chip's gaze is steady, his fear replaced with sympathy as he watches his dad struggle. He knows his dad didn't mean to scare him last night. He knows his dad's brain works differently, and he wants to understand. "Chip, I'm so...so..." The words won't come out. He's trapped in his own head, a prisoner to his autism's quirks. Karen's hand squeezes tighter, urging him on. "It's okay, Plankton," she says softly. "Just tell him what yo--" But Plankton's stuttering stops abruptly, his single eye wide with panic. "I-I-I-I-I-" He can't form the word, his mouth opening and closing. Karen's heart aches for him, seeing his desperation to connect with Chip. "It's okay," she soothes. "We can just talk about what happened." Plankton nods, his antennae slowing down. "I d-didn’t m-mean to scare y-you," he finally manages to say, his voice still shaky. "My brain gets...messy." Chip looks at his dad, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "It's okay," he whispers, his voice small but sure. "I know you didn't mea-" "No, it's not okay!" Plankton's voice cracks. "I need to apologize! I need to make it right!" His body starts to tremble. Karen's eyes fill with compassion. "Plankton," she says softly. "You don't have to force it. Ju—" But Plankton's desperation overwhelms him. "I-I-I... I hurt you," he stammers, looking at Chip, his antennae drooping. "I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to!" Chip's eyes fill with tears as he reaches for his dad's hand. "Dad, I--" But Plankton flinches away. "No," he says, his voice harsh in agitation. Chip's hand drops back to his lap with confusion. Plankton's face twists in some thing akin to disgust as he quickly pulls away from Chip's touch, his hands waving in a frenzied manner. Chip's eyes widen with confusion. Karen steps in. "Remember, Chip," she says softly. "Your dad's brain is sensitive to certain touches. It's not you, it's just his autism." She gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "We've got to respect his boundaries." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "I-I'm sorry," he stammers. "I'll try to do better." Plankton's hands do not stop their frantic movement. "I-I know my brain...it just doesn't like it." He rocks slightly back and forth. "No no, not the touch. The surprise," he whispers. "Must not touch, must not touch," he repeats to himself in a stim. "Gla-gla-glitch," he murmurs. His hands flap at his sides as Karen watches him without interrupting his self-soothing.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 10 Chip feels a lump in his throat, his heart heavy. He wants to hug his dad, to make it all better, but he remembers his mom's words and stays put. He looks at Plankton, his mind racing to understand. Karen's eyes are full of emotion as she watches them both. "Chip," she says, her voice steady. "You don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. Your dad's brain is just different. And sometimes, it needs more time to process things, okay?" Chip nods, his gaze never leaving Plankton. "But I want to make it right," he whispers. Plankton's stims slow down a bit. "I know," he says, his voice quieter. "And I'm s-sorry I did not tell you last night." Chip sniffles. "It's ok, Dad. I just...I just wanted to help." Plankton's antennae still, his face softening slightly. He looks at Chip, his single eye full of regret. "I know," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "Now let's do this science fair of yours.." Karen nods, seeing his effort to move on. "Okay, let's get going!" The three of them go to the reserved theater for Chip's event. Karen and Plankton find seats in the audience to watch the competition. The stage buzzes with excitement as Chip sets up his project by the other contestants. Plankton's antennae twitch, absorbing the cacophony of sounds and smells. The lights are too bright, the chatter too loud, but he tries to keep it together. He's proud of Chip. Though the sensory bombardment was too much for Plankton's system to handle, for his son, he'd try. He watches Chip nervously fidget with his project, his heart racing. This is his son's moment, and he doesn't want to ruin it with another outburst or meltdown. He grips the armrests of his chair, his body tense. The announcer's megaphone pierces the air, making his antennae spike with discomfort. The sharp, high-pitched noise feels like a knife to his sensitive ears. He flinches, his eye squeezing shut involuntarily as his hands fly to his head, trying to muffle the sound. Karen notices his distress, her face etched with concern. She reaches for him, but thinks better of it. "Plankton," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "The megaphone will be here all day. We need to find a way to make i---" He cuts her off. "I know," he snaps. "But I can't just ignore it!" His antennae spike again as another announcement blares through the speakers. He winces, his body visibly shaking with the overstimulation. Karen nods, understanding. "Let's go outside for a bit," she suggests, her voice soothing. "Maybe some fresh air will he--" But before she can finish, Plankton shakes his head frantically. "No," he whispers, his eye squeezed shut. "I-I can't leave Chip." His body is rigid with the effort of containing his sensitive auditory processing system. He flinches, his antennae retracting, his skin crawling. "Chip's up soon," he stammers. "Can't leave now." His voice cracks with anxiety, his body trembling with the effort of staying seated. Karen nods, understanding the importance of this moment for both of them. The lights dim, and the theater silences as the judges take their places. Plankton's heart races as he watches Chip approach the podium, his hands fidgeting nervously with his project. The megaphone booms once more, announcing the beginning of the presentations. The first contestant steps up, their project a whirl of colors and sounds that make Plankton's antennae spike. He grits his teeth, trying to focus on his breathing, but the clapping that follows is like nails on a chalkboard to his sensitive hearing. He wishes he could cover his ears, but his pride in Chip keeps him in his seat, his hands white-knuckled on the armrests. As the applause continues, Plankton's body starts to shake, his antennae twitching erratically. He feels the pressure building in his chest, the need to escape this tormenting cacophony. The clapping seems to go on forever, each sound a sting to his overwhelmed mind. Karen notices his distress, her heart aching. She reaches for his hand, but he flinches away, his eye wide as Chip demonstrates his project. The applause erupts again, a round of cheers. Plankton squeezes his eye shut, his antennae flattened against his head. He wants to scream, to run, but he's frozen, his eye squeezed shut, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But then it proves to be too much for his body. Karen's hand instinctively goes to his shoulder. "Plankton?" She asks, concern etched into her voice. He doesn't answer, his body now rigid with pain. He feels like his insides are being torn apart. The noise, the crowd, it's all too much. He's going to be sick. He can feel it, the bile rising in his throat. The lights are spinning, and the world is closing in. Karen's grip on his shoulder tightens. "What's wrong?" She asks, alarmed. Plankton's eye flips open, and he swallows hard. "I-I don't...I ca--" His words cut off as his stomach revolts, his body lurching forward as he vomits, sounds and crowds of the science fair overwhelming him. Karen jumps to action, guiding Plankton out quickly, her arm around his wobbling frame. The coolness of the hallway is a relief, but Plankton can't stop shaking, his antennae flat against his head. "I-I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice shaking as much as his body. "I-I couldn't take it." Karen nods. "It's okay," she says, her tone calm and steady. "Let's get you cleaned up." She knows his sensory overload can lead to such outbursts, and it breaks her heart to see him in such distress, his unshed tears. They make their way to a water fountain, running cool water over his hands as he rinses his mouth. "Sorry, Karen," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to do this." He looks at her, his single eye filled with guilt. "I wanted to be there for Chip." Karen takes his hand. "You can't control how your brain reacts to things, and that's okay."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 11 They find an empty corner, away from the chaos. Plankton leans against the wall, his breathing still rapid. "I-I just... wanted to be normal," he says, his voice trembling. "But I can't even sit through this." Karen squeezes his hand. "You are normal, Plankton. Your normal." She wipes his forehead with her hand, her movements gentle. "But Chip..." Plankton's voice trails off, his thoughts racing. "He'll understand," Karen reassures him. "He loves you, just the way you are." They sit in silence in the corner, the buzz of the fair muffled by the closed doors. Plankton nods, his shoulders slumping with fatigue. "Let's just wait here," Karen suggested, her voice gentle. "We'll hear when the winner is announced." He nods. He feels drained, his body heavy. He closes his eye, his breathing evening out as he leans against Karen's shoulder. The coolness of the wall is a comfort, his antennae finally still. He's exhausted, too tired to keep his eye open. Plankton's breathing deepens, his body finally relinquishing to sleep's embrace. Karen feels the weight of his head shift and knows he's asleep, his mouth slightly open, a soft snore escaping, his hands resting quietly on his legs. Her eyes trace his peaceful features, the slight furrow on his brow smoothed out. The science fair continues beyond the doors, but in this quiet corner, Plankton is safe. Karen pulls out her phone, texting Chip where they are whenever the winner has been announced. Plankton's snores are rhythmic, a testament to his exhaustion. Chip's text pings through: "I won." Karen's eyes light up with pride, but she keeps her voice low. "Chip won," she whispers, nudging Plankton gently. His snores don't even hitch, his slumber deep, still slack against Karen's side. She smiles, her eyes misting over. Chip comes out with his first-place ribbon and trophy. "Hey," Chip says. "Uh, Dad; you okay?" Plankton's antennae twitch at the sound, but he doesn't wake as Chip goes to Karen's side. "He's just tired, sweetheart," Karen explains, her voice quiet. "The fair was a bit much for him." Chip nods. He looks at his dad, his heart swelling with love and concern. "Can we wake him up?" He asks, holding his trophy tightly. Karen shakes her head. "Let him sleep," she says. "We'll celebrate when he wakes up. Right now, he needs his rest." Chip nods again, his eyes never leaving his dad's sleeping face. He's never seen his dad like this, so vulnerable. They sit in silence, the only sound being Plankton's steady snores. Chip holds his trophy carefully, the weight of the moment heavy in his hands. He's proud of himself, but there's a hole where his dad's presence should be. Karen's hand squeezes Chip's shoulder. "He'll be so proud when he wakes up," she whispers. Chip nods, his throat tight with emotions. "I know," he murmurs. "Do we go back to the hotel, or stay here in the theater lobby? You're sitting on the ground, so.." Karen looks around, noticing the concerned glances from passersby. "Let's find a quieter spot," she says, gesturing to a bench. They move to the bench, Chip setting his trophy down carefully beside them. Karen slides her arms under Plankton's legs and shoulders, lifting him with a surprising ease. His body is limp, his antennae still, his snores a soft comfort in the silence. The walk to the bench is slow, Karen's steps careful not to jostle him awake. Plankton's head lolls back, his eye still closed, as if the world can't reach him in his sleep. Chip walks alongside, his heart thumping with worry and love. They lay him gently on the bench, Karen adjusting his body so he's comfortable. His snores deepen, his chest rising and falling evenly. Chip sits beside him, his eyes on his dad, his mind racing. "What happens now?" Chip whispers to his mom. "Now, we wait," Karen says, sitting down next to him, her arm around his shoulder. "And we talk." She squeezes him gently. "Do you have any questions about your dad's autism?" Chip nods. "Why does it make him so tired?" He asks, his voice small. "Well," Karen starts, "his brain works differently than ours. It's like his game console is always on the highest setting, and it takes a lot more energy to process everything." "So when he's overwhelmed, his battery runs out faster?" Chip asks, his gaze still on his snoring father. Karen nods. "Exactly. And when that happens, he needs some quiet time to recharge, like a phone plugged in its charger." The bench creaks gently as Karen shifts her weight. "You can ask me any thing you want."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 12 Chip looks at his mom, his thoughts racing. "How'd Dad get this way?" He whispers, his voice barely above the soft snores of his father. Karen sighs, her eyes looking over at her husband's sleeping form. "It was during his birth," she begins, her voice soft. "It was a difficult delivery. Ma, his mother, had complications, and his brain was...affected." Chip's eyes widen. "What do you mean?" "Well," Karen explains, "his brain developed a bit differently, because of the troubles during his birth." She takes a deep breath, her eyes misting over. "Before he was born, everything was fine. But his delivery was what they call a traumatic one. It caused some damage to the part of his brain that controls how he experiences the world." Chip nods, his thoughts racing. He's heard of autism before, but never knew his dad's was due to an injury. "So his brain got hurt?" He asks, his voice small. "In a way," Karen says, wiping a tear away with her free hand. "It's not exactly like brain damage, as you might think of it. It's more like... his brain's wiring got a bit scrambled right at the start. So, he feels, sees, hears, and thinks about things in a way that's unique to him." Chip nods, his thoughts swirling. He looks back at his dad. "I don't want him to be in pain," Chip says, his voice breaking. As if on cue, Plankton's snores begin to quiet, his chest rising and falling more slowly. Chip holds his breath, watching his dad's face for any signs of waking. Karen notices the shift first, her gaze sharpening. "He's waking up," she whispers to Chip, squeezing his hand gently. Plankton's antennae twitch, his snores growing softer, until they stop altogether. His eye opens slowly, blinking against the harsh light. He looks around, confused, before his gaze falls on his family. Karen smiles gently, relief flooding her features. "Hey! We're on a bench," she says, stroking his forehead. "You had a bit of an overwhelm and fell aslee—" He sits up with a start, his body stiff. "The science fair!" He exclaims. "Did I miss Chip's turn?" Karen smiles, taking his hand. "No, you didn't miss it. Chip's already done his presentation. And guess what?" She pauses, her eyes twinkling as she turns to Chip. Chip's face lights up with excitement. "I won," he says, his voice filled with pride. Plankton's eye goes wide, his body straightening as the words register. "You did?" He asks, his voice hoarse from sleep and the earlier overstimulation. Karen nods. "Yes, he did," she says, her smile warm. Plankton turns to Chip. "Congratulations," he murmurs, his eye swiveling to his son's trophy. "Dad, I got first place," Chip says, his voice swelling with pride. He holds up his ribbon, the gold glinting in the harsh light of the lobby. Plankton manages a smile, his antennae quivering slightly. "You did," he whispers. Karen looks between them, her heart swelling. This moment, despite the difficulties, was exactly what they needed. "We're all so proud of you, Chip," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "Let's go back to the hotel and celebrate," she says, glancing at Plankton, who nods. Yet Chip looks confused, expecting more excitement from his dad. He looks at Plankton, who doesn't seem to have any emotion at all. "Dad, aren't you glad I won?" Chip asks. Plankton however doesn't even notice Chip's disappointment. Plankton nods. "Of course," he says, his voice distant. "It's amazing, son." But his words don't match his tone. Chip's smile falters slightly. "But do you feel it?" He asks, his voice small. Plankton looks at his son, his antennae twitching. "What?" He asks, genuinely confused. "Dad, I WON. I won the fair. Don't you feel excited?" Plankton nods. "I'm happy for you, Chip." He tries to smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eye. Chip's shoulders slump. He doesn't know Plankton can't do feelings the same way he expresses them. "Come on, Dad," Chip says, his voice a mix of frustration and sorrow. "Can't you just be happy with me?" Plankton blinks. "Yea?" But Chip takes it personally. Yet Plankton can't see disappointment and confusion in his son's eyes. He's trying, really trying, but his autistic brain can't process any thing wrong. He tries to mirror Chip's smile, his antennae waving slightly. But Chip can't see it, not really. He just wants his dad to be as excited as he is, to scream and cheer and jump around like everyone else's dad would. Chip's eyes brim with tears. "You don't even know how much this meant to me," he mutters, his voice choking with emotion. "And all you do is sit there like nothing's happened." Plankton registers the silence. "Uh, is something w---" "You don't get it," Chip says, his voice cracking. "You never get it!" The accusation hangs in the air, sharp as a slap. Plankton reels, his antennae drooping. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm trying." But it's not enough. Chip's frustration boils over. He jumps to his feet, the ribbon waving in the air like a sad banner of victory. "You're always trying," Chip yells. "But you never understand!" His voice echoes in the empty lobby, and Plankton wishes the floor would swallow him whole. Karen's expression tightens, but she stays silent, giving them their space. Plankton tries to stand, but his legs shake, his body still weak from overstimulation. "Chip, please," he stammers, his voice trembling. "I'm here, I'm proud of you, I'm---" But Chip isn't listening. His anger has taken over, his young mind unable to comprehend his dad's condition. "You're being selfish," Chip accuses, his eyes brimming with tears. "You can't even pretend to be happy for me!" Plankton's antennae droop further. Chip's chest heaves with sobs, his fists clenched at his sides. "You always make everything about you," he accuses, his voice high with anger. "You can't even pretend to be happy for me! You're just re---" Plankton's body goes rigid, his antennae springing straight. His eye widens in shock. The slur cut deep, deeper than anything. He's heard it whispered behind his back, seen it scribbled on bathroom walls, but never from his own son.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 16 Plankton's antennae twitch, and his body relaxes further into the embrace. He's safe here, with his son, in a world that so often feels like too much. Chip doesn't need him to be like everyone else, and that knowledge brings him peace. The room is silent but for the soft snores of Plankton as he drifts into sleep. His breathing is even, his body finally at ease. Chip watches him, his own eyes growing heavy. He's learned so much today, about his dad, about himself, about their complex life. He lies back, his head resting on the pillow, his arm still wrapped around his dad. How can he show love to him? To be a supportive son? The next morning Chip awoke to find his mom gathering their suitcases, as they'd make the drive back home today. She put Chip's trophy and ribbon in his suitcase. Plankton's still asleep, his head on Chip's shoulder. Chip felt a gentle warmth in his chest looking at his dad, his antennae slightly quivering in his sleep. He didn't want to wake him too abruptly. So, he gently began to move his fingers along Plankton's arm. The soft touch seemed to resonate within Plankton's dream, his body giving a slight twitch. Chip took a deep breath and continued, his fingertips tracing slow circles, hoping it would be enough to rouse him without causing distress. Plankton's antennae twitched again, picking up on the comforting pattern. "Dad?" Chip whispered, his voice gentle. He did not want to startle his father, who was finally at rest after the overwhelming day. Plankton's antennae twitched again, his eye still closed. "DAD," Chip tried again, a little too loud this time. Plankton jolted awake, his antennae springing to life. "What?" He asked, his voice filled with slumber. Chip felt his heart race. "It's time to go home, Dad.." Plankton's antennae relaxed at the familiar voice, his body slowly moving from the warmth of his son's embrace. He sat up, rubbing his eye. "Home," he repeats, his mind slowly waking up to the world around him. Karen looked up from her packing, smiling at the scene. "That's right," she said, her voice soft. "We need to get going." Plankton blinked slowly. "Home," he murmurs again. Chip nodded. "Yeah, home," he says, his voice trembling slightly. He'd had enough of the repetition, his mind craving a break from the endless cycle of his dad's words. Plankton's facial expression remains neutral, his eye not quite focusing. "Home" he parrots, his voice flat. "Ho-" Chip's patience starts to fray. "Yes, Dad, home," he says, his tone sharper than he intended. He's tired of the same words, the same questions, the same look of confusion. It's like talking to a broken record. "You DON'T have to repeat everything," he exclaims, making Plankton jump. Karen pauses in her packing, her heart racing. She knows this is a moment that can spiral quickly, but she also knows Chip's frustration is real, too. "Chip," she says, her voice calm. "Remember, Dad's autism makes things hard for him. He's just trying to make sense of what we're saying." She crosses the room to stand beside them, her hand on Chip's shoulder. Plankton's antennae are still. Chip's face softens. "Okay, Dad," he says, his voice gentle. "We're going home soon." He reaches up to stroke Plankton's cheek. But Plankton's reaction isn't what he expects. His dad's antennae snap back, and his face contorts in discomfort. "Chip," he says, his voice strained. "No." Chip's hand freezes, his eyes wide with shock. He quickly withdraws his touch, his heart racing. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mea-" But Plankton doesn't let him finish. "No," he says again, more firmly this time. "I don't like that!" "Dad," Chip says, his voice small. "What's w---" But Plankton interrupts, his voice rising. "I said no, Chip! I DON'T WANT THAT!" His hands balled into fists. Karen moves closer. The room feels smaller, the air thicker. Chip swallows hard. "I'm sorry," he says again. "I didn't kn-" "I JUST WANT TO GO HOME!" Plankton shouts over Chip. "So STOP TOUCHING ME!" His antennae vibrate in frustration, a rare show of his physical anger. "I don't want to be touched right now!" Karen's eyes fill with sadness. She knows Plankton's boundaries, has seen his frustration boil over before. But it never gets easier, never hurts less. But Chip wants to fix it, in the only way he knows how. He reaches out his hand again, slowly, tentatively, his eyes searching his father's. "It's okay, Dad," he says, his hand hovering above Plankton's shoulder. "I just wa-" But Plankton's frustration turns to fear. "NO!" He yells, his body tensing. "PLEASE!" Chip's hand freezes in midair, his eyes wide with surprise and hurt. He hadn't meant to upset his dad so much. He'd just wanted to help. So he pulls his hand back, but accidentally brushes his arm against Plankton's. The contact is light, barely noticeable to anyone else, but for Plankton, it's like a jolt of electricity. Plankton's antennae shiver violently, his body convulsing. His one eye rolls back in his head as he collapses onto the bed, his legs thrashing against the mattress. Karen sighs. "Another seizure," Karen says. "It's his brain's way of dealing with stress," she explains. Chip nods, his heart racing. Plankton's tiny body convulses on the hotel bed, his antennae flailing wildly. Karen quickly moves to his side. Her eyes never leave his. She's done this before, so many times, but each seizure still slices through her like a knife. "It's okay," she murmurs as Chip watched.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 17 Chip feels helpless, his hands trembling as he tries to think of something, anything, to make it better. "What do we do?" He asks, his voice shaky. Karen's voice is steady. "Just wait it out," she instructs him. "It'll pass." The seizure seems to last forever, but in reality it's only minutes. Chip watches, his heart in his throat, his mind racing. He's seen this before, but it never gets easier. The way Plankton's body contorts, the fear in his eye right before it rolls back, the helplessness of it all. As the convulsions start to slow, Plankton's antennae finally still. His body relaxes, but his mind is still far away, lost in the nonsensical state that follows a seizure. "Chip, get our stuff and we'll help your dad to the car." Karen says, ready to head back home. Chip nods, his hands shaking as he quickly gathers their belongings. His mind is racing with concern for his dad, his heart aching at the sight of him still and silent on the bed. The science fair feels like a distant memory. He carefully picks up his trophy, his ribbon crinkling under his fingertips. The pride he once felt for his accomplishment now seemed so trivial compared to the overwhelming love and fear that filled him for Plankton, who finally opened his eye. Plankton's pupil was wide, unfocused, his antennae still. Chip's heart pounds in his chest, his mind racing. What has he done? "Dad?" Plankton doesn't react. Karen helps him up to his feet. "Hey there, Planky-Poo; let's get ourselves home!" Karen says to him. He simply blinks. "Wok?" Plankton's voice is slurred, his usual sharpness blunted by the postictal phase. He looks around the hotel room with confusion. "Wok," he repeats, as if trying to convince his own brain. Chip and Karen exchange a look full of their silent understanding as Karen leads them to the car, buckling Plankton in. After Chip puts everything in the trunk, he sits by his dad as Karen starts the engine. Plankton's eye is glassy, his antennae barely moving. He's in his own world. "We're all going home," Chip says, his voice calm. But Plankton's attention is elsewhere, his brain still reeling from the seizure. "Gwed?" He says. Karen nods. "Yes, we're going home," she answers, her voice soothing. "Everything's ok." Plankton's head lolls against the window, his antennas drooping. The world outside the car is a blur of colors and shapes, not yet making sense. "Yeh was’at?" Plankton said. Chip looks at him. "You had a seizure," he says softly. "It's okay. We're going ho-" But Plankton interrupts, his voice slurred and distant. "Wh-wha' 'bout science fair?" He slurs. "Did I... did I win?" His antennae twitch slightly, trying to remember. Karen sighs, her hands on the stearing wheel. "It's like he's drunk," she explains to Chip. "But it's his brain trying to recover." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. "You were so proud, Dad," he says, hopeful. But Plankton just blinks, his gaze unfocused. "S'not fair," Plankton says, his voice still slurred. "I wan' be proud too." He's clearly trying to piece together the shattered bits of his memory. Karen looks at Plankton in the rearview mirror, her eyes filled with love and concern. "You were proud, hon," she says. But Plankton's brain isn't cooperating. "I wan' to be a thor," he slurs, his words jumbled. Chip looks at him, his heart heavy with sympathy. "You're my hero, Dad," he says, his voice earnest. "You always will be." Karen's eyes brim with tears as she hears Chip. "That's right," she says, her voice shaky. "You're our big strong hero." She swipes at her eyes, fighting the emotion that threatens to spill over. Plankton's head bobs slightly, his eye still unfocused. "Thas... that's nice," he says. The car's motion lulls him closer to sleep, but he fights to stay awake. "Wanna see me win," he mumbles, his words slurred. Chip nods, his throat tight. "I know, Dad," he says. "You'll see it when you're feeling better." Plankton's antennae twitch again, his eye blinking slowly. "Win," he repeats, his voice softer. He blinks, his mind trying to grasp the concept. "W-w-win," he stammers. His body feels so heavy. The car ride continues, the hum of the tires against the road lulling Plankton closer to sleep. His head nods slightly with each bump in the road, his antennae drooping more with every mile. Chip watches him carefully, his heart breaking at his father's vulnerable state, for Plankton's mouth was now slightly open, his head leaning on the car door window. "Dad?" Chip says, his voice quiet. Plankton doesn't respond, his breathing evening out. "Dad?" He tries again, but there's no reaction. He looks at Karen. Her eyes are on the road, but she nods. "He's asleep, Chip," she whispers. "It's his brain's way of recovering." "Dad?" Chip says softly. No response. "Dad, are you okay?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, his eye still closed. His breaths are deep and even, his body completely relaxed against the car seat. "Dad, wake up," Chip whispers. "Wake up, Dad," Chip says again, his hand gently shaking his father's shoulder. But Plankton's snores are the only response, his antennae quivering with each inhale and exhale. The car's soft rocking and the steady hum of the engine have lulled him into a deep, much- needed sleep. Chip's hand lingers on his dad's shoulder, his eyes scanning his father's peaceful face. He can't help but feel a twinge of sadness, his mind replaying the confusion and fear from the seizure. But he also feels relief, knowing that Plankton is safe, that they're going home.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 18 Finally, they reach their home, Karen turning the car off with a sigh of relief. Chip watches as she carefully opens the car door, her movements slow and deliberate. Plankton stirs slightly, his antennas twitching. "Dad?" Chip says, his voice gentle. Plankton's eye opens. Home. The word echoes in his mind as his senses slowly recalibrate to the familiar surroundings. "You're okay," Chip says. "You had a seizure, but you're okay now." Plankton blinks slowly, taking in his son's face. Home. Yes, this is where he belongs. Karen helped them both unpack. And then Plankton went onto his own bed. "Hey Chip, come sit," Plankton says, patting the bed. So Chip sits carefully, his heart racing. Plankton's antennae quiver slightly as his eye searches Chip's. "I'm... sorry," he says, his voice weak. "I don't know why I had a seizure but I'm okay now. So uhm, do you want to... talk?" Chip nods, his heart pounding in his chest. He's always known his dad was different, but seeing him like this, so vulnerable and open, it's both terrifying and comforting. "Sure," he says, his voice small. Plankton's antennae twitch. "I'm... I'm glad we went to the science fair," he says, his voice no longer slurred. "I know it was hard for you to see me like that." His antennae droop slightly, his one eye looking up at Chip with apology. Chip's eyes fill with tears. "Dad, you don't have to apologize," he says, his voice cracking. "I'm just happy you're okay! I love you.." Plankton's antennae perk up at the word "love," his eye focusing on Chip's face. "I-I lo-ove you too, bud," he says, his voice stronger. "I'm sorry if I couldn't show it properly." Chip wipes his tears. "It's okay," he says. "I know you do." Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "I'm not always good at it, though," he admits, his voice laced with regret. "But I try, Chip. I really... I just want you to know that." Chip nods, his throat tight. "I do know, Dad," he says. "And I'm proud of you, too." His words hang in the air like a promise. Plankton's eye met Chip's with intensity. "Why do you say that?" He asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. "Well, because you always try so hard," Chip responds, his words earnest. "You help me with my homework, and you always want to be there for me. But I also know it's hard for you." He pauses, his mind racing with questions he's held back for so long. "Why do you sometimes repeat words?" Plankton's antennae twitch with thought. "It's called echolalia," he says. "It's when I hear something and my brain just... repeats it. It helps me to understand better. And sometimes, it's because I'm nervous." Chip nods, his curiosity growing. "But why do you get so upset when I touch you sometimes?" He asks, his voice tentative. Plankton sighs, his antennas drooping. "It's because I have sensory issues," he explains. "Some touches feel good, but others... they're just too much. It's like my body's on fire, but I don't know how to tell it to stop." Chip's eyes widen in understanding. "So it's not just that you don't like me touching you," he says, his voice hopeful. "It's just that sometimes, it's too much for you?" Plankton nods, his antennae relaxing a bit. "Yeah," he says. "It's not that I don't love you, Chip. It's just that sometimes, my body gets overwhelmed." Chip's hand trembles slightly. "But Mom seems to be the best at it, when it comes to touching?" Plankton nods. "It's because she's been with me for so long, she's learned what I like and don't like. And she does it gently," he explains. "She knows how to make it feel right. She knows my limits." "But what about when you don't want anyone to touch you at all?" Chip asks, his eyes searching. Plankton sighs. "That's when I'm overstimulated," he explains. "It's like everything's too bright, too loud, too much. And then, even the softest touch feels like it's going to break me." His eye blinks slowly. "I might end up hurting people's feelings without meaning to." Chip nods. "But why did you get upset when I just want to help?" He asks, his voice tiny. Plankton's antennae twitch with consideration. "Sometimes, even the best intentions can be too much," he says. "My brain gets overwhelmed, and I can't process what's happening. It's like... it's like you're speaking another language and I'm trying to keep up, but my brain just can't. And then I don't know how to tell you to stop without sounding mean." "So, it's not that you don't want my help," Chip says, his voice thoughtful. "It's just that sometimes, you need to be left alone?" Plankton nods. "Yeah, buddy," he says. "But don't think I don't appreciate it. It's just... I need a little extra space to figure things out." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his dad's. "What about when you get really sad or really happy?" He asks. "Why do you... stim? And why don't you like it when I notice?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly as he thinks. "Stimming is like my brain's way of... letting off steam," he explains. "It helps me regulate my emotions. And when you point it out, it's like... it interrupts that process. That, and I don't like to admit that I'm different sometimes," he adds, his voice softening. "But you are, Dad," Chip says, his hand reaching out to his father's. "And that's what makes you special." But Plankton leans away from his touch. "It's okay," Chip quickly says, his hand retreating. "I just want to know more." He swallows hard. "What about... when you have those meltdowns?" Plankton's antennae still, his eye focusing on Chip. "Those are... tough," he says. "They're like... my brain's way of telling me that I've had too much of something. Too much noise, too much light, too much of everything." His voice cracks. "And I... I can't always control it. And if I don't get anything to help me, it's like... I get stuck. And then I just... I just need to let it all out." Chip nods, his heart pounding in his chest. "But why do you get mad at me when I want to help?" He asks, his voice shaking slightly. Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "It's not that I'm mad at you, Chip," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "It's just... sometimes, I don't know how to accept help. I get scared. I've had so many people in my life who didn't understand me, who thought I was just being difficult or strange." His eye blinks rapidly. "But you... I guess even though you mean well, I just get flustered when you see me like that, or I can feel rushed to explain." Chip nods, his understanding deepening. "But I want to learn more, Dad." His hand trembles as it hovers over Plankton's arm. "Is this okay?" He asks, his eyes searching his father's for permission. Plankton looks at Chip's outstretched hand, then up into his eyes, and nods slightly. "Just... just a little," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Chip's fingers touch Plankton's arm, gentle and tentative. The sensation doesn't overwhelm Plankton this time. "Thank you, Chip," he says, his eye softening.

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.

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.."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 21 Plankton went into the Krusty Krab, oblivious to the customer's subtle different ways they look at him. They've all seen the post, even though he's not even aware of it. Some stifled laughter, some pitied, some even admired as he came in. Plankton didn't think anything odd, until a person, instead of running into him, stops short. "Oh, hey! Sorry, you go ahead Plankton." Plankton looked up to find the owner of said voice to step aside to let him by. Huh. He goes to steal as usual, but another smiles at him with sympathy. "How's it going, Plankton?" They ask, their tone kind but with an underlying curiosity. Plankton freezes, his antennas waving in confusion. "I-I'm fine," he stammers, his usual quick-wittedness nowhere to be found. He's never been talked to like this before. He glances around, noticing more people giving him odd looks. Customers who usually look at him with disgust when he'd wreak havoc, actually seemed kind. He tries to focus on his mission, but the whispers and stares are distracting him. He's not used to being the center of positive attention. His brain, still adjusting to the calmness of the morning, struggles to process the change in the environment. As he's about to grab the secret ingredient, Mr. Krabs, the Krabby Patty's creator, calls out to him. "Plankton, what are ye up to?" His voice is not the usual snarl of annoyance but rather, one of genuine concern. His nemesis seems not so mad today. Plankton, caught off guard, drops the bottle he's holding, his antennae waving frantically. "J-just... just looking," he stammers. Mr. Krabs approaches, his eyes softening. "Lookin' good, Plankton," he says. "How's the family?" The sudden friendliness throws Plankton off his usual scheme. "T-they're good," he replies as he tries to understand the shift in dynamic. Mr. Krabs nods. "Can't say I understand, but I see you're still giving it your all. That's the Bikini Bottom spirit!" Plankton's antennae quiver with confusion. "I'm not following?" Mr. Krabs nods. "Aye, Plankton" he says matter-of-factly. "Ye got a right to be proud of how ye handle everything, frenemy. If ya ever need a break, don't ya hesitate to tell me." Plankton's eye widens, his mind racing. He doesn't know how to process this. His enemy has never talked to him like this before. He's used to anger, to sarcasm, but this... this was different. He nods, not trusting his voice to speak. Mr. Krabs pats him on the back. "Now, get back home," he says, his voice still kind. "I'll still keep an eye out for ya, okay?" He says, as he picks up the bottle. As Plankton goes to leave, a random kid goes up to him, her eyes curious. "Are you okay?" She asks, her voice kind, not the usual taunts he's grown accustomed to. "Oh, and do you snore?" Plankton's antennae wave in surprise, his usual snappy comeback stifled by his confusion. "I-I don't know," he says, his voice sharp. "But why are you talking to me like that?" The little girl smiles, her eyes innocent. "Because my brother's like you," she says. Plankton remains confused. "What do you mean?" He asks, his antennae waving slightly. The little girl giggles. "I know you have a special brain," she explains, her voice filled with wonder. "And my dad snores when he's really tired. Like in the car," she adds, somewhat mischievous. Plankton's antennae wave as he tries to comprehend her odd statements, his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. "Special?" The little girl nods. "Yeah, like my brother. He has a disability too!" Plankton's antennae twitch. "I'm not- WHAT?" He falters. The little girl nods again, her expression placid. "Yeah, he's fallen asleep in the car before too! You looked so peaceful in that picture," she says, oblivious to the chaos she's just unknowingly caused in Plankton's mind. "What picture?" He asks. The girl points to a phone in her mother's hand, the post still on the screen. "That one," she says. Plankton's heart sinks as he realizes his son has posted a picture of him, asleep on his shoulder. He also reads the caption and sees Karen put a like. Humiliation and anger swirl within him. Now, everyone knows. How could they?

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 22 Plankton storms back into the Chum Bucket, slamming the door. Karen looks up. "So, did you ste—" Karen starts, but then sees Plankton's face. "What happened?" She asks, her tone concerned. Plankton holds up his phone, the post on full display. "This," he says, his voice shaking with anger. "This is what happened!" Karen's understanding as she reads the caption. "Oh, Plankton," she says gently, stepping towards him. "Plankton I know you don't remembe---" But he cuts her off, his antennae waving frantically. "How could you? How could you do this to me?" He shouts, his voice filled with hurt and betrayal. Karen knows she needs to give him space, but also knows that she needs to explain. "Plankton, honey, I know you didn't really consent to this. But Chip, he just wanted to show his love and admiration for you," she says, her voice calm. Plankton's antennae wave in agitation. "It's not just about the photo!" He yells, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's about the caption!" Karen nods, her eyes full of empathy. "I know, honey. But sometimes, people don't understand how their words can affect others. Chip didn't mean to hurt you, he was just trying to share something he thought was special about you." Karen says as she steps closer, her hand outstretched. Plankton looks away as his humming starts up, a stim. He rocks back and forth, his body trying to process the overwhelming information. Karen watches him carefully, picking up on the signs. Her heart breaks for his distress, but she knows pushing him now won't help. She's learned his cues over the years, how his body speaks when his words can't. She approaches slowly, her movements calculated to avoid startling him. "Plankton," she says softly, her voice soothing. "You're okay." She doesn't reach out to touch him, but her hand lingers close. She knows the calming effect her presence has on him. "Just breathe." But he rocks faster, his hands over his head. He's overwhelmed, she can see it. His body is telling her that this is not the time to press the issue. He's in his own world, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions that the viral post has brought on. Karen takes a step back, giving him more space. Plankton's eye is squeezed shut. She knows his brain is in overload. "Do you need to be alone?" Her voice is gentle, non- threatening. She's learned over the years to read his body language, the way his antennae flatten when he's anxious, how his hands flap when he's excited. He nods, his body still rocking. She understands his need for space. She knows he'd come to her. Chip, who had been watching the scene unfold, steps out, his face a mix of regret and concern. He didn't mean to hurt his dad. He just wanted to share a moment. He approaches them cautiously. "Dad?" Plankton's rocking slows but doesn't stop. He doesn't look at Chip, his eye focused on the far wall. "It's okay, Chip," Karen says gently. "Just give him some space." But Chip can't help but feel a knot in his stomach, his dad's reaction not what he expected. After a few moments, Plankton's stimming stops, his antennae dropping to his side. He opens his eye and looks at Chip, his gaze intense. "You didn't ask," he says, his voice steady but firm. "I did too ask! You're the one who told me to post it and okayed the caption!" Chip says. Karen sighs, seeing both their misunderstanding. "Chip," she says, "you know your dad sometimes doesn't remember things right after a seizure. He might not have underst--" "But he smiled, Mom," Chip interrupts her. "He said it was fine." Plankton nods, his voice softening. "Let's say I did. I don't remember any of it, and now..." he trails off, his antennae drooping. "Now, everyone knows. Everyone's looking at me differently." Chip's face falls, his excitement turning to regret. He'd wanted to make Plankton feel seen, understood. Not this. "Dad, I'm sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "I didn't know it would be like this. I just..." Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "You just thought you were helping," he finishes for Chip. "Whatever," he says, his voice tired. "I know you meant well. I've my annual x-rays at the dentist tomorrow and the squirrel is gonna watch you." "Her name is Sandy," Karen says to Plankton, rolling her eyes. "Whatever," Plankton repeats, his mind still reeling. "Can I have some time alone?" Karen nods, understanding his need for solitude. "Of course, honey." She squeezes his arm gently, and Chip nods in agreement. "Besides, it's bedtime." As the room quiets, his mind begins to unravel the threads of the situation. He's not used to being the center of attention for anything other than his failed attempts to steal the formula. This... this is different. It's about him, his life, his autism. And it's out there for everyone to see, to judge, to sympathize. The next morning, Chip is dropped off right at Sandy's doorstep. "Hi Ms. Sandy.." Chip says. Sandy, Karen's best gal pal, waved as Karen drove off with Plankton to the dentist.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 23 Sandy's tree dome is always a wonder to Chip. She opens the door for him. "Hey there, buddy!" She says, her accent a Texas drawl. Chip's eyes widen as he looks around, the contrast from his typical day to the alien world of Sandy's dome. It's like stepping into a grassy paradise! Sandy, with her squirrel- like cheerfulness, shows Chip around. "So, what's the plan?" Chip asks, his voice tentative. "Well, we're gonna have some fun!" Sandy says, clapping her hands together. "Whatcha wanna do?" Later, as Chip and Sandy kick a ball around, Sandy's phone rings. It's Karen, calling from the dentist. "Is everything okay?" Chip asks, his eyes widening in worry. Sandy nods, holding up a finger for him to wait as she answers. "Howdy, Karen! How's..." Her voice trails off as she listens intently. Chip watches her face for cues, his heart racing. Sandy's expressions shift from concern to confusion to something he can't quite read. "Okay," she says into the phone. "We'll be ready. I heard about his autism, so I can imagine how worried..." Chip's mind races as he tries to listen in on the conversation. What could be wrong? He watches Sandy as she's still on the phone. "What's going on?" He asks, his voice laced with fear. But Sandy holds up her hand for him to wait. "Oh," she says into the phone. "And uhm, how's Plankton gonna..." Suddenly, she's cut off by Karen's voice. "Now?" Sandy repeats. "I can't really see Plankton being agreeable to that, Karen. How..." Her eyes widen as she listens to Karen's explanation. "Oh no," she says, her voice concerned. "Oh, poor Plankton! I'm sorry to hear that, Karen. How long will the surgery be? Oh, they'll do it in the same building? That's good, at least.." Chip's anxiety spikes as he overhears the word "surgery." Plankton's face flashes in his mind, and he remembers his dad's fear of doctors. "What about Dad?" He asks, his voice shaky. But Sandy's still talking to Karen. Sandy nods, her face etched with worry. "Okay, just keep us updated and let me know when we can come. Wishing Plankton a speedy recovery! Yes. See you on the flip side; bye.." Chip's stomach drops as he looks at Sandy. "What happened to Dad?" Sandy takes a deep breath. "He's gotta have some extra teeth removed," she says gently. "It's a common procedure, but for someone like him, it's gonna be a bit tricky. But they are going to accommodate him. It's a preventative..." Chip nods, his mind whirling. "But Dad's so scared of doctors," he says, his voice small. "How are we gonna get him through this?" Sandy gives him a comforting smile. "Your mom's got it handled," she assures him. "They have an oral surgeon at his dental office. They're gonna make sure he's as comfortable as possible, and your mom will let us know when we can come up there." A little while later Sandy gets a text update from Karen with a picture. The image is of Plankton lying in a dental chair, his eye closed, a mask covering his face. The message reads: "The gas put him right to sleep, and now they're gonna put in the IV before removing the gas mask. They're letting me stay with him the entire time." Then another image of Karen's hand holding Plankton's limp one. Chip's heart sinks. He's never seen his dad like this before. So vulnerable. He feels like he should be there, but Sandy's comforting presence reminds him that his mom's got it under control. Sandy puts her arm around Chip's shoulder. "Why don't we do something to keep our minds off it?" She suggests, trying to ease his concern. "We could play some soccer!" Chip nods, though his mind is still somewhere with Plankton. But he knows his mom's got this. And Sandy's his best bet at distraction. Later, the next update is texted and Sandy reads Karen's message. "The surgery went well," it says. "He's in recovery, you can come whenever. They knew about his seizures so they used extra sutures, but they are dissolving stitches. They're just preparing before the wake-up starts. He's still under. They took x-rays after, too, and every thing's perfect. He did so excellent, and will be numb and groggy for today but might be in some pain and swelling for the next week." Sandy looks at Chip, her eyes filled with concern. "You ready to see your dad?" She asks. Chip nods, nerves frayed but his determination to be there for his dad unchanged. He takes a deep breath and they both head out to the dentist.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 24 The operating center is a blur of white and sterile smells as they walk in. Chip's eyes quickly adjust to the bright lights, looking for any sign of his dad. They're met by a nurse, who leads them back to the recovery room. Sandy comes in and saw Plankton, still unconscious, surrounded by beeping machinery. His antennae are still, a stark contrast to the usual flurry of movement. Karen's sitting by his side, holding his hand, looking tired but relieved as Sandy lets Chip come in as the nurse smiles at them, but he's focused on seeing his dad. Chip notices his dad's mouth. Plankton's tongue barely lolls out slightly to where his bottom lip is. It's the first thing that catches his eye, other than the red gums where the wisdom teeth have been taken out. Chip's eyes widen, and he takes a step back. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice soothing. "They had to keep his mouth open like that for the surgery." Chip can't help but stare, his heart racing. He's never seen Plankton so still, so... helpless. It's a stark contrast to his usual antics, to his endless plotting and scheming. Now, his dad's the one who's been silenced. He tries to shake off the fear, reminding himself that Plankton's just asleep. The nurse notices their unease and smiles gently at them. "He's doing well," she says, nodding towards Plankton. "We're just about to remove the IV now." With a swift, practiced movement, she carefully takes out the needle, her gloved hands moving quickly yet delicately. Plankton's arm barely twitches in response, his sleep deep. The nurse tapes a cotton ball to his arm where the IV was, then wraps it in a snug bandage, her movements methodical. Karen watches, her heart racing, feeling like an outsider in this medical world that's so foreign to their usual life. "It's okay," the nurse says, noticing the tension. "He's going to be just fine." She turns to Plankton and gently lifts his eyelid, checking his pupil's reaction before closing it again. "Looks like he's still under," she mutters, then turns to Karen. "He'll be out for a bit longer, but let's get gauze ready before he wakes up." Karen nods. Chip watches as the nurse unwraps a piece of gauze, his mind racing with questions about the recovery process. Sandy squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. The nurse gently inserts the gauze into Plankton's mouth, her movements precise and careful. His tongue is back in his mouth. The white cotton fills the void where his wisdom teeth were. Chip then sees blood on her gloves when she pulls them out, his heart skipping a beat. "It's normal," Sandy whispers, noticing his reaction. "It's just a little bleeding. It'll stop soon. And he's gonna be numb, so he won't feel much." The nurse nods. "She is right. The gauze is to help stop the bleeding, and it's common after wisdom teeth surgery." Karen's eyes are glued to Plankton's face, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. She swallows hard, her throat dry. "Thank you," she murmurs to the nurse, who nods understandingly. Chip stands by his mom's side, his gaze flitting between her and his dad. He feels awkward, unsure how to act around his unconscious father. Plankton's usually so full of life, so... Plankton. Drool is forming at the corner of his mouth, his antennae still. The nurse finishes wrapping the gauze. "Ok," she says, her voice soothing. "You can talk to him if you want. He might not hear you, but it can be comforting." Chip steps closer to the bed, his heart thumping against his chest. He looks down at his dad, so still and peaceful, and feels a wave of anxiety. "Dad?" He whispers, his voice shaky. "You okay?" There's no response. Plankton's chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, his breathing deep and even. Chip's eyes well up, a mix of fear and love. He's never seen his dad like this before, not even during his seizures. This is different. This is a kind of vulnerability that he isn't used to. He reaches out a tentative hand, touching his father's arm lightly. "It's okay, Dad," he whimpers. Chip feels a tear slip down his cheek. "Wake up, Dad," he whispers, his voice barely above a mumble. "Please wake up." Plankton remains still. Chip backs up, feeling his stomach churn. Sandy frowns. "You okay, Chip? Karen, Chip's not looking so go—" But Chip is already at the trash can, his body heaving. Sandy rushes over, her eyes wide as he retches. "It's okay," Karen whispers from beside the bed, her hand still clutching Plankton's. "Chip, I'm so sorry. I know it's hard. Your dad won't be like this forever. It'll be okay." Chip nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The nurse takes the trash out before she returns back with wet wipes for Chip. He takes them gratefully, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Thanks," he mumbles. The nurse nods. "Now, Mr. Plankton will most likely wake up feeling pretty groggy and disoriented," she says, turning her attention back to Plankton. "But it's all part of the recovery process." Karen nods, her throat tight. She's heard this before, but with his autism, she can't help but worry how Plankton will react to waking up in such an unfamiliar environment. The nurse sees her concern and gives her a reassuring smile. "We're used to this. We've got everything under control."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 25 Time seems to drag as they wait for Plankton to wake up. But finally Karen notices a slight twitch in his eyebrow, his antennae starting to move slightly. Sandy squeezes Chip's hand. "Look, he's coming around," she whispers. Chip's eyes snap to his dad's face, his heart racing. Plankton's single eye flickers open, looking around the room with a haze of confusion. Karen rises from her chair, her hand still tight around his. "Hi, honey," she says gently. "You're okay. You just had a little surgery. Your dentist removed your wisdom teeth. Are you almost ready to go home?" Plankton's gaze settles on her face, his expression still cloudy. He tries to speak, but his mouth is thick with cotton. "Wha..." he mumbles, his tongue fumbling with the gauze and numbness. Karen's eyes fill with relief. "Shh, it's okay. You're in recovery." Her voice is a soothing balm to his confusion. Sandy steps forward, her eyes shining with concern. "You're okay, buddy! How goes it?" Plankton blinks slowly, the world swimming before his eye. "M'th... moufth?" he mumbles, his speech slurred from the numbness and remaining anesthesia. Sandy and Karen can't help but chuckle at his antics. "Your mouth is okay, Plankton," Karen explains, her voice patient. "They just removed extra molars." Plankton's antennae wave erratically as his eye widens. "I can'th fee my teef," he says, his voice still thick. He tries to sit up, only to fall back with a thump, his antennae drooping. "Whoa," he says, his eye spinning. "The floor moveths." Chip giggles nervously, his heart racing. He's seen his dad act weird before, but not like this. Sandy's laughter fills the room. "Oh, Plankton," she says. "You're always full of surprises." The nurse smiles. "It's the anesthesia," she explains. "It'll wear off in a bit. But for now, keep talking to him." Karen nods, her relief palpable. She knows her husband's quirks, but this is new even for him. She leans in. "You're ok, Plankton. We're here for you." Plankton's antennae twitch as he tries to comprehend. His voice slurs more, "Whewe am I?" He looks around, his eye blinking. "I'm in’a white... box?" His words slur together, and he starts to giggle. "I thishk I'm in a fridge!" The nurse, Karen, and Chip all chuckle despite themselves. The tension in the room breaks a little. "Dad, you're still at the dentist," Chip says, trying to keep a straight face. "Dentith?" Plankton slurs, his antennae waving in confusion. "Why am I in da fridge den?" His laughter turns into a snort, and the gauze in his mouth shifts, causing him to drool. "Careful, buddy," Sandy says, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "You've got gauze in your mouth." Plankton looks up. "Gosh?" Chip can't hold in his laughter anymore. He sees the humor in the situation, despite the anxiety from earlier. "You're in the surgery recovery room, Dad," he explains, trying not to laugh. "You had some teeth removed." Plankton's antennae wave wildly. "Teesh?" He asks, his voice slurred. "I can'th feel my teethies. Dith they tik dem aww?" This sets off a fit of giggles from the group, even Karen can't hold back. "They just took out your wisdom teeth, love," she says, her voice full of mirth. "They had to, remember?" Plankton's eye crosses. "Wi’dom teefs?" He repeats, his voice slurred. "Buth... but I'm smart wifth aww my teef!" He tries to touch his mouth, but his arm flops back down, too heavy. "Windom teefs awe supposeth to be... smart?" His voice trails off into a silly giggle. The nurse laughs lightly. "Mr. Plankton, you're adorable. But yes, wisdom teeth can cause problems. They're like the extra baggage in your mouth that you don't need." Sandy looks at him. "Do you recall anyth—" But Plankton's eye rolls back and he's out again, snoring gently. The nurse chuckles. "It's the medicine," she says. "He's still under the effects. Give him some time." Karen nods, her smile lingering despite the situation. She's seen Plankton act silly before, but never like this. The anesthesia has brought out a whole new side of him.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 26 The nurse checks his vitals, then looks at the family. "He's going to be fine," she reassures them. "This is normal. Just keep talking to him." Sandy nods. "Plankton what do you recall?" Plankton's eye flickers open again. "I... I wuz... it wuz... scawy! Buh feelth wike a melting gill sheesh san witch floating. Karen thpinned thoo! Thpun awound.." Karen looked intrigued. "I was spinny?" She asked him. "Yesh," Plankton nods. "Youw wiz." He tried to sit up again. Sandy couldn't help but laugh harder. "Looks like you had quite the adventure, Plankton." He nods, his antennae bobbing. "I di'n't even hafe tho weave de chaw fo' de rollercoatheth," he mumbles, his voice still slurred. The nurse checks his gauze and nods. "Everything's going as planned," she says. "He's just feeling the after-effects of the anesthesia." Plankton tries to focus on the three figures before him. "Youwre aww... fuzzy," he murmurs, his voice muffled by the gauze. "Nurse?" The nurse's smile widens. "Yes, Mr. Plankton?" "I had a mask," he slurs. "I wath... thwimming wif... I din't floth my teef?" He giggles uncontrollably at the thought. "Ith thweemed wif... I dunno? I forgot to floth yestewday. Sho thad can'th be wight.." The nurse and Karen share an amused glance, while Chip tries to keep a straight face. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen says, her voice trembling with laughter. "You're okay. You're just a little loopy right now. Let it run its course," she says with a smile as Plankton notices the bandage on his hand. "Oooh, accessowry?" Plankton asks, staring at the bandage where the IV was removed, his eye squinting in confusion. "I din't member, how I geth thish?" Karen chuckles, wiping away a tear from her eye. "You had surgery, sweetie. They had to give you something to make you sleep through it, the IV." Plankton's not following. "I'vth? Whath's an I'vth?" The nurse's laugh is gentle. "It's a tube, Mr. Plankton. It helped you sleep." Plankton nods slowly, still confused. "A tube? Whath tube? I din't thee any tube.." Karen's smile widens. "You had it in your arm," she says, pointing. Plankton looks down, his eye still unfocused. "Oh," he says, his voice faint. "I din't member thad. Wheh dith thish tube thingy happn’ nurse? Karen, member the mask?" The nurse nods. "You were given a mask with gas to help you sleep," she explains. "And then we moved to the IV after that. You're going to be a little out of it for a while, but that's normal." Plankton processes the information. "Oh," he says, his voice slightly clearer. "Thath's why I feelth wike I'vth been hith by a party balloon filled wifth... wather?" He giggles, his cheeks turning pink. "I don't wike balloonth. They pop loud." Chip can't help but smile, seeing his dad in this state. It's like watching a child discover the world for the first time, all over again. "You're okay, Dad," he says, his voice filled with affection as Sandy goes to hug Plankton. But Plankton flinches, his antennae shooting up. "No huggles!" He says, his voice panicked. "I'm thtick!" He tries to push her away, but his movements are slow and clumsy. Sandy pulls back, understanding. "It's okay, Plankton," she says. "We're just happy to see you. And you're not sick, silly!" Chip watches, his heart warming at Sandy's gentle tone. It's clear she's learning too, adapting to Plankton's quirks. Plankton's eye finally focuses on her. "Oh, wight," he says, his voice still slurred. "Ish thcared? I'm mawwied to Karen and she woffth meeeeeee!" This sets off another wave of laughter. "We know, Plankton," Karen says, trying to keep a straight face. "But you're okay now. No need to be scared. Chip was a bit scared though," she adds, nudging their son with her elbow. "But he's brave for you." Plankton looks at Chip, his antennae drooping. "Whewe's Chip? Can, can shay hi? Shay hi to Chip?" Chip leans in, his laughter subsiding. "Hi, Dad," he says gently. "I'm right here." Plankton's antennae wave in recognition. "Chip! Thpuny Chip!" He slurs, his eye widening. "Shay, shay hi, Chip?" Chip nods, his smile soft. "Hi, Dad." Plankton laughs. "Hi Chip!" He says, his voice still slurred. "Youw... wookth... so... biggew!" He tries to sit up, but Chip gently pushes him back down. "Easy Dad," he says. "You got stitches. We don't want to pop those stitches, or—" But Plankton's antennae drop instantly. "Stitchesh?" He says, his voice filled with fear. "Stitchesh thurtth?" He starts to panic, his body tensing. The nurse quickly intervenes. "Mr. Plankton, no, no," she soothes. "Chip, we gave your dad strong but dissolving sutures! They're specially made for patients with a history of seizures and special needs. They're not like regular sewing stitches. He'll be fine." But Plankton's fear has taken over, and his single eye starts to water. "I don't wike stitchesh," he mumbles, his voice shaking. "Karen pwease, no stitchesh!" Karen's heart breaks seeing her husband so upset. She takes his hand again. "Plankton, no. You don't have stitches that hurt," she says, her tone gentle and firm. "They used special ones that dissolve on their own. Remember we talked about this befo—" But Plankton's fear isn't easily soothed. He starts to hyperventilate, his single eye wide with panic. "Karen, Karen, no stitchesh! No stitchesh!" His antennae are quivering, and his body is tense. Chip swallows hard, his hands clenching into fists at his side. Karen's eyes fill with tears, and she quickly stands up. "Chip, Sandy, I need you to go wait outside for a moment," she says, her voice shaking. "Let me talk to him alone." Sandy nods, her own concern etched on her face, and gently guides Chip out of the recovery room. "Let's get some air," she says, leading him to the waiting area. Karen and the nurse turn to Plankton. "Plankton," Karen says, her voice calm yet firm, as she sits on the edge of the bed, her hands gripping his. "Look at me. Look at me." Plankton's eye is teary, his breathing quick and shallow. "You're safe," she whispers. "You don't have the stitches that hurt. Chip didn't know about the dissolving ones, that's why he said that. But I know, and you know, because we talked about it. Remember?" Plankton's antennae quiver as he tries to focus on her words, his body slowly relaxing. "Ditholvish..." he mumbles, his voice small and scared. "No stitchesh? No popping!" Karen nods, her own eyes filling with tears. "No stitches that pop, love," she says. "You're okay. You're safe." She holds his hand tighter, feeling his fear dissipate slowly. "Remember the plan? The one we made together?" Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods slightly, his breathing easing. "Yeth," he says, his voice weak. "Dotholvish stitchesh." The nurse steps in, her voice calm and soothing. "Mr. Plankton, your wife's right. We used dissolving ones. We just want you to be careful because of the pain can be worse if you jostle too much." Plankton's antennae wave slightly, his expression still fearful. Karen nods. "We talked about it, Plankton. Remember the special plan?" She whispers, her eyes filled with love and understanding. "You have to stay calm and let the medicine work. No stitches to pop. No pain like that. We discussed it before, right? Now, let's get ready to go home!" Plankton's antennae still, his breathing steadies. He nods slowly. "Home?" He slurs, his mind still fuzzy from the anesthesia. "I wath... I wath thcared of stitchesh." Karen's smile is relieved, her eyes glistening with tears. "You're safe, Plankton. We're going home soon. Ready to go?" She strokes his cheek. Plankton's antennae wave in acknowledgment, his single eye focusing on hers. "Home," he repeats her. "Yeth." The nurse nods, satisfied with his response. "Alright, Mr. Plankton; let's get you into a wheelchair!" With the nurse's help, Plankton is transferred to the chair, his legs dangling over the edge. "It's just to get you to your car." Plankton nods, his eye still a bit glazed over, but his body more cooperative now. His antennae wave slightly as he tries to sit up straighter.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 27 The nurse pushes the wheelchair through the hospital corridors. Chip and Sandy come into his line of vision. "Hi Dad," Chip says, his voice tentative. Plankton's eye snaps to his son. "No?" He says, his voice clearer now. "You'we... you'we liar?" Karen steps in, laughing gently. "He's not lying, Plankton. You had special stitches. No popping, remember?" Plankton's antennae drop, his expression clearing slightly. "Oh," he says, his voice still slurred. "Speshul... stitchesh." He nods, his mind slowly piecing things together. "Wight. No popping." Chip's shoulders relax, his smile returning. "Yeah, Dad. No popping. And we're all here for you," he says, his voice filled with reassurance. Sandy nods in agreement, her eyes soft. "You're gonna be okay. I'll get going now. Bye, y'all!" The nurse wheels Plankton closer to the car, and Chip rushes to open the door for them. Karen helps him into the backseat, making sure he's comfortable, while his head lolls back onto the headrest. The nurse waves, taking away the wheelchair as Karen starts the car. Chip helps Plankton buckle in. In the car, Plankton's eye keeps fluttering. "You okay?" Karen asked him, unable to hide her amusement. Plankton nods, his speech still slurred. "Jush tiwed," he says. "I wath... I wath... I wath on a speshul day," he mumbles, his eye half-closed. "Tish fwom... the denthit?" Karen laughs softly, her hand on the steering wheel. "We're in the car now. You're okay, sweetie. Just tired from the medicine." Plankton's antennae wave slowly, his eye half-closed. "Caw," he slurs. "Caw wike a... Chip... merry-go-round?" "No, no," Karen says, smiling. "Just stay put. You're safe." Chip, sitting the seat by Plankton, watches his dad with mixture of humor and concern. "Mom's driving us home, Dad." "Home?" Plankton repeats, his voice slurred. "Home, wike... whale wash?" "Sure, sweetie," Karen says, her voice gentle. "We will be there soon." "Dad, do you wanna tell us about the dentist?" Chip asked, starting to record a video on his phone. He doesn't want to startle his father, who's already so sensitive to his surroundings. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Nendis?" He mumbles. "Yeath, nentis." He closes his eye, his antennae moving as he tries to recall.. "I wath... I wath at de dentith," he slurs, his voice lilting in sleepy confusion. "They goth my wizdam teef. Teefies?" He giggles to himself. "Tho many teefies. Dey maketh a chaw. I thit down and dey thaid, 'Bweath in de gas mask,' and den... de wowld wath... woozy. I dunno how bu’ dey aww of a sudden I’th wakey-wakey wiff no mowf bu’ on my hand wath a ban-aid." He holds up his hand with the bandage for emphasis, his antennae bobbing slightly with each word. "I thenked dey put me on de rollercoath, but ended up in thith caw!" His hand plopped down in his lap. Chip and Karen share a look in the rearview mirror. "Dentist," she corrects gently, her laughter bubbling up. "You're still loopy from the anesthesia. And that was a wheel chair, Plankton." Plankton giggles. "Wheel chaw," he repeats, his voice slurred. "Wheelchaw in a caw." His antennae wave in delight. "Bu’ Chip wath tho mean. He tolb me I pop oud my stitchesh." Chip snickers, his hand over his mouth. Then Plankton continues, but his voice wobbles sadly. "Ith’s scawey," Plankton says, wiping away tears. "Chip wathn't weal truthful and thaid I got stitchesh wiww end up popping. It wath... wath it... wath it... my moof." His antennae quiver. "Bu’ Karen thaid it’th noth twue. No pop stitchesh!" Karen's smile fades a bit. "Plankton," she says seriously. "Chip didn’t know about the dissolving ones. But I'm here, and I'll always tell you what's happening. No surprises, okay? He was just trying to—" But Plankton's head lolls to the side. He's asleep, his mouth slightly open. His snores are quiet, the gauze in his mouth muffling them. Chip then ends the video, saving it on his phone. The car ride home is mostly silent, save for Plankton's soft snores. Karen keeps glancing in the rearview mirror, making sure he's okay. Chip can't help but smile at his dad. As they pull into the driveway, Plankton stirs slightly, his antennas waving in his sleep. "Whe... whe're weh?" He mumbles. "Home," Karen says softly. "We're home. I'll help you in—" But Plankton's eye closes again, and his snores grow louder, his body relaxed against the car seat. Karen gently shakes his shoulder. "Plankton, we're home," she says, trying not to disturb him too much. His antennae twitch in his sleep, but he doesn't wake up. With a sigh, she gets out of the car and opens his door. "Come on," she coaxes, her voice soothing. "Let's get you inside!" His eye opens again. "Home," he says, his speech still slurred. Karen carefully helps him out of the car. Yet Plankton's eye starts to droop again. "Walky walky," he murmurs. Chip jumps out of the car, coming around to open the front door. Plankton's legs give out under him, and he sags against Karen, his antennas drooping. "Walky," he mumbles again, his eye fluttering shut. Karen laughs softly, shaking her head. "Come on," she says, supporting his weight. "Let's get you to bed. You gotta walk, honey. Are you even awake?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Awake," he mumbles. He takes a step, then another, but then his legs give out again. "Dad, you need to stay awake," Chip says, his voice filled with concern. But Plankton's eye closes again, his body leaning heavily on Karen as his snores are heard. With a deep breath, Karen wraps her arm around his waist. "Come on, love," she says, her tone gentle but firm. "We're almost there. Can you wake up for just a bit?" Plankton's antennae twitch as he nods, his body wobbly. He takes another step, his eye fighting to stay open. "Walky, walky," he says, his voice sleepy. They inch their way up the walkway, Chip hovering behind them, ready to catch his dad if he fals again.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 28 The home's warmth envelops them as they enter, Plankton's eye fully closing. "Bed," he mumbles into Karen. "Wan' bed." Karen laughs. "You can do i---" But Plankton's head droops again, snores now echoing through the house. She sighs, her smile never leaving her face. "Come on," she whispers, half carrying him toward the bedroom. "You're almost there. Wakey-wakey," Karen coos. Plankton's eye opens a slit. "Heh?" "Dad," Chip says. "You need to stay awake a bit longer." They manage to get to the bedroom, his legs dragging. Karen helps him onto the bed, his head rolling to the side. "Bed," he says, his voice barely a murmur. "Wan' bed." Chip watches, his heart heavy. He notices his dad's mouth moving, his teeth chattering slightly as he chews on the gauze. "Dad, no," Chip whispers, reaching out to his father's cheek. "You're not su—" Chip's eyes widen with realization. "Oh," he says softly. "Your mouth's numb. Mom, is this normal?" Karen nods, her eyes on Plankton's face. "Yes, it's a side effect of the local anesthesia," she explains, her voice calm and reassuring. "It'll wear off soon." Plankton's antennas wave slightly, his chewing growing more frantic. "It's okay, Plankton," she says. "It's just to keep the blood clots forming in place. It won't hurt you." Chip's brow furrows as he watches his dad's mouth move uncontrollably. "Can we give him something for it?" He asks, his hand hovering over the gauze in Plankton's mouth. "Chip, don't. It's just the meds wearing off. Let's get you comfy," Karen says, her tone soothing. They manage to get him sitting up, his head lolling slightly. Plankton makes an "mph" noise, his antennae waving as he tries to communicate. Karen gently takes the gauze out, revealing a swollen, numb mouth. "Can you feel that?" Chip asks, his voice concerned. Plankton shakes his head, his eye wide with confusion. "No?" He says, his voice slurred. "Karen, I canth feel my mouthie!" Karen laughs softly, her eyes brimming with love. "It's normal, love. The feeling will come back." Plankton's antennae wave in frustration. "But it'th so... weiwd," he mumbles. "Wha’ abouth the gosh?" Karen takes his hand gently. "The gauze is gone, Plankton. Just try to relax." Plankton's antennae quiver as he nods. He tries to talk again, but his tongue feels thick and awkward. "Karen," he slurs, "Ith’s wike... ith’s wike I'vth goth a mout' full of cotton candies. I stiw feelth gosh?" His tongue visibly gets in the way of his chewing. Karen nods, her hand on his shoulder. "It's normal, Plankton. Just stop chewing your cheek, okay?" She says, her voice kind. But Plankton's still confused. "But it'th not wike... I'm not gonna bithe mithelf," he says. But even as he's talking, his teeth catch his tongue. "Thee," he says, his voice slurred. "It'th I'm biting gosh, not mysethf." Chip's eyes widen. "No Dad there's no gauze STOP!" Chip yells, making him wince. "Chip thoo loud! Kare----" "Dad you're being louder than me!" Karen quickly takes control of the situation. "Plankton, you're okay. You're just biting your lip because your mouth is still numb from the medicine," she explains. "It's a common side effect. And Chip, please keep your voice down." Plankton's antennae drop in understanding, his body relaxing slightly. "Numb?" He repeats, his voice slurred. "I bith my lithpth?" He looks at Karen, his eye filled with concern. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice calm. "It's not gonna cause complications but it'll make the pain worse once it's worn off." Plankton's antennae wave in understanding, his eye drooping. "Ow-wee?" he mumbles, his speech still slurred. "I'm sorthy." Karen nods, her smile reassuring. "It's okay, sweetie. Just try to keep still," she says. But Plankton's mouth slightly starts to drool due to the numbness. "Ith'th gothta... gothta geth muh gosh," he asks. Karen nods, her movements swift. She grabs gauze from the nightstand. "Open," she instructs, her voice calm and soothing. Plankton's mouth opens obediently, and she gently puts the fresh gauze in. "Better?" She asks, her tone tender. Plankton's antennae wave in relief as he nods. "Tankyew," he mumbles, his speech slurred. Karen and Chip exchange a look, both of them trying not to laugh at the sight of Plankton's drool. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice calm. "It's normal." She wipes the drool from his chin with a gentle tissue. "But you have to keep the gauze in tonight." Plankton nods, his antennas drooping slightly. "Thath what dey thoid," he murmurs. "But it’th... it’th juth... tiwweeddd.." Karen giggles, her eyes shining with love. "I know, Plankton," she says. "But it's all going to be okay. You just have to keep the gauze in for now." Plankton's eye closes in sleep. Chip watches his dad, his heart swelling with concern. He's never seen him like this before, so vulnerable. "Mom, should we be worried?" He whispers, his voice shaky. Karen smiles at his anxiety. "No, no complications. He'll just be in pain is all. And his autism might make it tougher for him to really communicate what he's feeling without getting frustrated, so be prepared for that." As they get him settled in bed, Plankton's drool continues to leak out despite the gauze. Karen carefully tucks him in, making sure the gauze stays in place. "Goodnight, Plankton," she says, even though he's already snoring softly. She kisses his forehead, her heart aching for the pain he'll feel once the anesthesia fully wears off tomorrow. Chip lingers in the doorway, watching his dad sleep. His mind whirrs with thoughts about his dad's autism, his surgery, and the drooling. It's strange to see such a powerful character in his life so vulnerable. He knows Plankton wouldn't want anyone to see him like this, but he also knows his dad is safe here. He turns to Karen, his voice low. "Mom, is he going to be okay?" Karen nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "He's going to be fine. The dental work was minor. The autism just makes everything more... intense for him." All the anesthesia and numbness has worn off overnight while Plankton was asleep. The next morning Plankton awoke to a dull ache in his mouth and jaw. Karen hears him groan loudly and she went right to his side. His antennae now twitched in pain. "Wha'..." Plankton then remembers. The dentist. He had his wisdom teeth out! He recalls the mask. He remembered Sandy dropped Chip off at the dentist, and Karen drove Chip and him home. Anything else after that, he'd forgot. He opens his eye slowly, his mouth now feeling thick and swollen. "Karen," he murmurs. He then took his soggy gauze out, now stained with pink. "Urrg, m-my face.." Karen, sitting beside him, smiles. "Good morning, Plankton. How are you feeling?" Her tone is gentle. Plankton's antennae wave in response. "Dunno," he mumbles. "Why's the pillow wet?" Karen laughs softly. She sits down beside his bed, her expression kind. "It's because the medicine they gave you made your mouth numb. You couldn't feel it, so you drooled in your sleep." Plankton nods, his face scrunching up in realization. "Oh," he says, but winces at the pain in his jaw. "Take it easy," Karen instructs, her hand steadying his shoulder. "You're going to be sore for a few days. And you had those special stitches that dissolve. You're going to need rest." Chip knocks on the doorframe, his eyes full of concern. "Hey, Dad," he says softly. "How's it going?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Chip," he says, his voice still thick from sleep. "Uh, how was Sandy?" Chip steps into the room, his eyes scanning his father. "Ms. Sandy's good," he replies. Plankton nods. "Sandy dropped you off at the oral surgeon office at my dentist yesterday, right?" Chip nods, his eyes worried. "Yeah, Dad. We both came after surgery." He pauses, a smile tugging at his lips. "You had some funny moments." Plankton's antennae perk up, his curiosity piqued despite the pain. "Funny moments?" He asks, nervous. "What do you mean..." Chip pulls out his phone, scrolling to the video from the previous day. He presses play. In the video, they're in the car, Chip in the video talking. 'Dad, do you wanna tell us about the dentist?' Then Plankton came into view. Plankton's eye opens wider as he watches his sleepy, post- surgery self mumble about the "nentis" and his "mowf bu' on my hand wath a ban-aid." He watches his own confusion with mortification. "What bandaid..." Plankton sees it on his hand. "I don't remember having this on my hand. What was it for?" Karen chuckles. "It was the IV, but you won't remember because they did it when you were already sleepy." "Oh," Plankton says. He looks down. "I don't remember," he mumbles, wincing as he took off his bandage. Karen nods, her expression sympathetic. "That's because of the medicine, Plankton. You were pretty out of it." Chip chuckles. "You talked about chairs turning into a rollercoaster," he says. "It was pretty funny." Plankton's antennae droop slightly. "I talked about what? It was all a... a blur." Karen nods. "You were loopy from anesthesia. But it's over. You're safe at home, and we'll help you out." Plankton sat up, movements cautious due to the throbbing in his mouth. "Th-thank you," he says. "My mouth feels... pain." Karen nods, handing over a glass of water and a bottle of pain meds. "Here. It'll help." Plankton nods, his face contorted in discomfort as he took the pills with a grimace. "Euh– " Chip watches his dad carefully with love. He can't imagine what it's like and his dad's autism make it more challenging for him to understand. He sat down on the bed, his hand reaching out to cover his dad's. But Plankton retreats his hand before Chip can touch.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 29 "Daddy?" Chip asks, his voice full of concern. "You ok?" Plankton's hand moves. "I don't wanna be touched," he says in annoyance. "Pain." Chip's face falls, but he understands. "Okay, Dad," he says, pulling his hand back. "Do you want me to ge-" "No," Plankton says, his voice firm. "I don't." Karen nods, her eyes knowing. "Remember, Plankton," she says gently. "You might be even more sensitive to touch right now because of the surgery. It's okay to tell us if something bothers you." Chip nods, his expression solemn. They both know that Plankton's autism means senses can be overwhelmed even on a good day. Now, with his mouth sore from the surgery, any touch could be agonizing. Plankton takes a sip of water, but does little for the ache in his jaw. He leans back into the pillows, his eye half-closed. Chip sits on the bed by him. "Dad," Chip starts, his voice tentative. "I'm here for you." Plankton's antennas twitch slightly. "I know, buddy," he says, voice strained. "Thanks." Karen looks at Chip, her eyes filled with appreciation. "Why don't you read to him?" She suggests. "It might help distract him." Chip nods, his mind racing. What would his dad want to hear? He settles on a book about sci-fi, something that usually interested him. He sits down by Plankton on the bed. He opens the book and begins to read, his voice low and steady. "Once upon a time, there was a utopian world," he reads, his eyes glancing at Plankton. His dad's antennas twitch slightly in response. Good, he's listening. As Chip reads about molecules and atoms, Plankton's eye begins to glaze over. The story is interesting, but the pain in his mouth makes it hard to focus. He can feel his anxiety start to rise, his chest getting tighter. Karen notices his discomfort and touches his hand lightly. "Honey, are you okay?" She asks. But then the doorbell rings, interrupting their moment. Chip jumps up, excited for a break. "I'll get it," he says, his voice hopeful. Karen nods, her gaze still on Plankton. Chip finds Sandy at the door! "Hi Chip," she says, her smile wide. "I thought I'd stay a bit, keep y'all company or whatnot." So she follows Chip into his parents bedroom. Plankton's antennae twitch at the sight of Sandy. "Hi," he mumbles, not really focusing. Karen knew this look usually meant an oncoming absence seizure for him. "You okay?" Sandy asks, her eyes searching his. Plankton doesn't respond. Sure enough, Karen knew an absence seizure's starting. Still Sandy approaches, her movements slow and careful, not wanting to overwhelm him. "Plankton?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, but he doesn't react. His mind is somewhere else. Karen quickly explains, "It's okay, Sandy. He's having an absence seizure." Sandy gasps, for she has never seen this before. "Oh no," she whispers, her eyes wide. "It's okay Sandy," Karen says, her voice calm. "It's just a part of his autism." Sandy looks at Karen, her eyes questioning. "An absence seizure?" Sandy asks, her voice quiet. Karen nods, her hands steady. "They're harmless, but can be disconcerting if you're not used to them. They can last anywhere from a few seconds to a couple of minutes, even a few hours." They both sit on his bed. Plankton's antennae twitch once more before his body goes still. The only sign he's alive is his chest rising and falling with his shallow breaths. Sandy watches, concern etched on her face. "What can we do?" she whispers to Karen. Karen shakes her head, keeping her voice low. "Just stay with him. Perhaps talk to him, but don't touch unless he initiates. Keep it calm." Sandy nods, taking a deep breath. She sits on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving Plankton's still form. "H- hey, Plankton," she says softly, her voice trembling. "It's me, Sandy. I came to check on you." Karen's eyes never leave Plankton's face, watching closely for any sign of the seizure's end. She smiles gently at Sandy. "It's okay, sometimes he can hear us. Just keep talking." Sandy nods, her voice soft. "Plankton, I'm here," she says. "Your surgery was yesterday!" She smiles nervously, hoping to engage him. Plankton remains motionless. Karen squeezes his hand gently. "You had a good night's sleep," she says, continuing to talk to him as if he's just daydreaming. "Your mouth will heal soon." Sandy nods, her voice even softer. "Yeah, Plankton. And Chip and I are gonna help you through this, okay?" Plankton's antennae barely move. The seizure seems to be continuing. Karen sighs, her hand still in his. Chip watches his dad with a heavy heart. He wishes there was more he could do than just sit doing nothing. He glances at them, his eyes questioning. Karen shakes her head, keeping her voice low. "It's normal," she explains. "It's just his autism making it harder for him to deal with pain. He'll come out of it in his own time." "How might I know when it's over?" Sandy whispers. Karen nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "When his antennae move again, or when he blinks. It's like he's just spaced out, but his brain's not processing anything around him." "How do you know if or when he can hear us?" She asks, watching his chest rise and fall rhythmically. Karen's eyes never leave Plankton's still form. "Sometimes, during these seizures, he can still process what's being said around him. It's like his brain's on pause, but the background's still playing. It's why we keep talking." "So what do we talk about?" She whispers. Karen smiles gently. "Just keep it simple and calm. Talk about his favorite things, or ask questions that don't require an answer." Sandy nods, taking a deep breath. "Plankton," she says softly. "You know, I was thinking, going through surgery can't be easy for anyone, but especially not for someone with sensory issues like you." But still Plankton doesn't budge. But Sandy's still curious. "Karen, why doesn't he blink during these?" Sandy whispers, her eyes never leaving his face. "It's a part of the seizure," Karen says quietly. "His body goes still, and his brain does not send signals to blink or move. It's like his body's frozen in time. Why don't you try to keep his mind engaged?" Sandy nods, leaning closer. "Plankton," she whispers. "You know what I was thinking?" Her voice is soft, almost a sing-song. "We could have ice cream. What do you think?" There's a pause. Then, a tiny twitch in his antenna. Karen smiles. It's working. "Maybe mint chocolate chip," Sandy suggests, her voice soothing. "Or would you prefer vanilla?" "Villa," Plankton replies, a glimmer of life returning to his eye. Karen's smile widens. "Look, he's coming back," she whispers. Chip's eyes light up, his voice eager. "Can we have ice cream too?" Karen nods. "Of course. But let's wait until later." Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, but his eye remained unblinking. So Sandy tries again. "What's your favorite flavor, Plankton?" She asks him, her voice barely above a whisper. This time, there's more life in his antennae. They wave slightly. "Villa," he murmurs. Sandy nods. "Okay, vanilla it is. Great! We'll have a little celebration later with your ice cream, okay?" And then, finally, his eye blinks. "Welcome back," Karen says, her voice a warm smile. Chip's face breaks into a grin, and Sandy looks at him with a mix of relief and curiosity. Plankton looks around a bit confused, seeing Sandy sitting by him. "S-Sandy?" He says, his voice weak. "How long have you been here!" Sandy smiles warmly, her eyes filled with relief. "Not long," she says. "Just waited for you to come back to us." Plankton nods, his antennas drooping. "I-I must've had a seizure.." Karen nods gently. "Yes, you did," she confirms. "But it's over now, and you're ok." She squeezes his hand, her eyes full of warmth and reassurance. Sandy scoots beside Plankton. "Back when I was in Texas, I gotta extra copy of a Texan science book and just knew you'd like to keep it!" She pulls out a big book. Plankton's eye lit up. "Ooh, let's look at the index!" "What, why the index?" Sandy asks. "It's just a part of his autistic brain that he always likes the index." Karen interjects. "Read the title and page to him; it might help him relax a bit." Sandy nods, her voice soft as she reads. "Alright, Plankton. 'The Wonders of Texas Mechanics'... page 32. 'Life in Texas'... page 110." Sandy holds the book in front of them as Plankton peers over by her shoulder, following along. Sandy continues on reading. "Texan Electricity... page 240. Alien Technology... page 478. Unusual Texas Phenomena... page 520. New Texan Inventions... page 600." Sandy reads on. "Discoveries in Texas Biology... page 780. The Molecular Universe... page 850. Li—" Sandy is cut off by a soft snore. Plankton's antennae had stopped twitching and his eye was now fully closed. Sandy looks to find his head resting against her arm, his mouth slightly open. Karen smiles gently. "Looks like he's out," she whispers. Sandy nods, setting the book down carefully. "I think so," she whispers back. "He must be exhausted. And the pain probably wore him out." They sit in quiet companionship. His snores are soft and rhythmic. Sandy's arm is now around Plankton's shoulders, supporting him. Chip looks at his mom and Sandy, a question in his eyes. Karen nods. "It's okay," she whispers. "Let him sleep. He needs rest." Sandy nods with compassion. She gently shifts her arm around Plankton, making sure his head is comfortably propped on her shoulder. Chip watches, feeling a mix of awe and confusion. He's never seen his dad trusting and relaxed. Karen whispers, "Why don't you go play, Chip? We'll keep an eye on him." Chip nods, his eyes lingering on his father. He doesn't want to leave, but he understands that his dad needs peace.

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.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 11 (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 They approach Plankton, his body heavy with sleep. Karen gently shakes his shoulder. "Wake up, love," she says. "We're going to help you to bed." Plankton's eye opens, blinking in the soft light. He looks around, disoriented for a moment, before focusing on Karen's face. "Bed?" he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. Chip nods eagerly. "You need to sleep in your own bed, Dad," he says, his voice gentle. Plankton frowns, his hand reaching for his blanket. "Must," he says, his voice firm. Karen nods. "Let's go," she whispers, taking his arm. With careful steps, they navigate the hallway, the soft carpet muffling their footsteps. Chip follows behind. Plankton's movements are slow and deliberate. Karen helps Plankton into his room, the space familiar and comforting. The bed is a sanctuary. Karen helps him into bed, his limbs heavy with sleep. Karen opens the bedside drawer, her movements practiced and quiet. Chip watches as she pulls out from the sensory box a soft plushie. Plankton's eye flickers open, his gaze landing on the toy. "Huggle," he murmurs. His hand reaches out, his fingers grabbing the plushie. Karen nods. "Here you go, sweetie," she says, placing it in his hand. The softness of the plushie seems to ground him. His hand clutches it tightly as he settles into bed, his antennae still. "Pranks," he says. "Ponies.." Karen tucks the blankets around him, her movements precise and gentle. "Good night," she whispers, leaning in to kiss his forehead. Chip watches as Plankton's grip on the plushie tightens, his eye still closed. "What's that for?" he asks. Karen smiles down at her sleepy husband. "It's a comfort object," she whispers. "It's like a pillow or a blanket for you." Chip nods. Plankton's hand tightens around the plushie, his breathing deepening. "Huggle," he murmurs. The soft toy is a lifeline to a world that often feels overwhelming. Chip watches his dad with a newfound respect, understanding that sometimes, the simplest things provide the most profound comfort. "Good night, Dad," Chip whispers, his voice trembling slightly. He's seen a side of Plankton today that's both fascinating and heartbreaking. The father he's known his whole life, his hero, has a vulnerability no one else sees. The next morning, Chip wakes up and goes in to his parent's bedroom again. Karen is up. Plankton is still asleep, his hand still wrapped around the plushie. "Ponk," he murmurs in his sleep, his antennae twitching slightly. Chip pads over. He looks at his mom, his eyes questioning. "Is he okay?" he whispers. Karen nods. "He's just dreaming," she explains. "It's a way of working through things." Chip sits on the edge of the bed. "Mm," Plankton murmurs. Chip's seen his dad's strength so many times, but this vulnerability is new. He reaches out for his sleeping dad's plushie. Chip's hand hovers over it. He gently takes it... Plankton's eye flew open. "Whaa-" Plankton says, then notices Chip taking the plushie. In an instant, Plankton is wide awake, his antennae shooting up in anger. "No!" he yells, his voice sharp. Chip jumps back, his eyes wide. "What's wrong, Da-" Plankton's hand snatches the plushie from Chip's grip. Karen's screen flashes with concern. "It's okay, sweetie," she says quickly. "Chip didn't mean to take it." But Plankton's not listening. "NO! It's mine! YOU don't touch!" The room seems to shrink under the weight of his anger. His antennae quiver with rage. "Dad, I'm sorry," Chip stammers, his voice small and scared. Plankton's grip on the plushie tightens. Karen's screen flickers. "Plankton," she says gently. "Remember, Chip didn't mean to upset you. He's still learning." Plankton's eye darts between the plushie and his son. "MINE! MINE, MINE, MINE!" Chip feels tears prickling his eyes. He didn't mean to make his dad so mad. Chip goes to pick up the plushie to hand back to him, but Plankton thought he's taking it. In a flash, Plankton is out of bed, his body stiff, his antennae trembling with fury. "NO!" he roars, his voice echoing through the tiny room. Chip flinches, his grip on the plushie tightening. "Dad," he whispers, "I'm sorry." Karen moves quickly. "Plankton," she says, her voice firm but kind. "Remember, it's okay." Her hands are up, a silent plea for peace. But Plankton doesn't see her. His eyes are locked on Chip. Yet Karen's voice remains steady. "Plankton, it's okay. Let's talk about thi—" He cuts her off with a screech. "MINE!" He snatches the plushie from Chip's grasp, his antennae waving in agitation. Chip backs away, his eyes brimming with tears. "It's okay, Dad," he stammers. "You can have it." But Chip accidentally brushes against Plankton. Plankton flinches, his body stiffening. "NO!" he shouts again. "DON'T TOUCH!" The force of his words pushes Chip back. He almost stumbles over a chair. "Dad, I di-" But Plankton doesn't hear. He's lost in a world of his own, where the rules are clear and simple: his things are his, and no one else's. The plushie is a lifeline in a storm of confusion, and it's been snatched away. His rage builds, his antennae quivering like live wires, his body trembling with anger. With a roar, Plankton throws the plushie across the room, watching it sail past the curtains and hit the wall. The impact echoes through the silence like a gunshot. Chip flinches, his heart racing. This isn't the dad he knows. This is a stranger, a creature of fury and pain. Plankton's chest heaves with quick, shallow breaths. His skin is slick with sweat, his eyes wild and unfocused. "NO TOUCH!" he screams, his fists clenched at his sides. The room seems to pulse with his anger, the walls closing in. Karen steps forward, her hands still up, her voice calm. "Plankton, love," she says, "Chip didn't mean to upset you." But her words are lost in the rage. He turns and grabs the chair. With a powerful swing, Plankton throws the chair, his movements surprisingly strong. It crashes against the wall, the sound like a thunderclap in the silent room. Chip's eyes widen in fear. "Dad," he whispers, his voice shaking as Plankton grabs a vase. "MINE!" Plankton yells, his body a blur of anger. The vase flies, shattering into a thousand pieces on the floor. "NO TOUCH!" The room is a chaos of Plankton's rage, his stims forgotten in the face of perceived invasion. Chip is frozen, his eyes following the path of destruction. Karen's screen flickers, her voice urgent. "Plankton, please," she says, her eyes filled with fear. "You're scaring Chip." But the words bounce off his shield of anger. He grabs a book, ready to hurl it next. The room is a minefield of shattered glass and flying objects. Chip's heart races. He's never seen his dad like this. He's never felt so scared. Karen moves closer, her hands outstretched. "Honey," she says, her voice shaking. "Remember, Chi-" But Plankton's rage is like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He throws the book, his body a whirlwind of anger. "NO!" His voice is raw, his eye wild. The book slams into the wall, the pages fluttering to the ground. Chip watches, his eyes wide with fear. He's seen his dad's temper before, but never like this. The room feels like it's closing in, his heart thumping in his chest. He wants to run, but he's rooted to the spot. He can't leave.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 13 (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 sits on the edge of the bed, his hand touching Plankton's shoulder. He whispers, "I'm sorry," not sure if his dad can hear him. Karen sits next to him, her hand on his back. "It's not your fault," she says, her voice soft. "Remember, we're here for him. Now when he wakes, he might be feeling tired. But he'll be okay." Chip nods, his eyes still on Plankton's peaceful face. He's never seen his dad so still, so quiet. It's like he's looking at a stranger. But he's not. This is the same man who taught him to tie his shoes, who read him bedtime stories, and who always had the best pranks for Mr. Krabs. The sedative's hold starts to loosen. "It'll wear off soon," she whispers. Chip nods. "I'll stay here," he says, his voice determined. Plankton's eye twitches. A soft murmur escapes. Karen watches. "It's okay," she whispers, her hand on Chip's shoulder. "He's coming back." Slowly his eyelid flutters open, his eye unfocused. "Wheh..." he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. Karen's screen glows with relief. "Welcome back, love," she says softly. Plankton blinks, his gaze slowly finding hers. "What... what happened?" His antennae twitch. Her voice is gentle. "You had a meltdown. Remember?" He frowns, the memory distant. "Chip accidentally touched your plushie, and it just... it was too much." Chip nods. "I'm sorry." Plankton's antennae droop. His eye widens with horror. "Chip," he murmurs. He tries to sit up, but his body is heavy with sleep. Karen's hand on his chest gently presses him back down. "It's ok," she says. "You're safe. We're here." Plankton's eye darts around the room. And he sees Chip, his son, sitting by his side, looking at him. "Wibbly wobbly," he murmurs. "Wibbly wobbly." Chip now understood why his dad is repeating random words. "It's okay, Dad," he says. "You're safe." Plankton's eye focused, his antennae still. "Chip," he whispers. "Wibbly wobbly... wibbly wobbly..." Chip nods, his screen now clear. He understands. These random phrases are his dad's way of navigating the world after a storm. They're his anchors in the chaos, his way of finding calm. "Pranks," Plankton says, his voice a whisper. "Ponies." Chip nods. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. These words, his stims, are his lifeboat, his way to find peace. "It's okay, Plankton," she murmurs. "You're safe." Plankton's antennae still. "Car tape." Karen nods. "Yes." He whispers, "Io." "It's okay," Karen says, her voice soothing. "You're home." "Io," Plankton murmurs again, clapping his hands. Chip frowns, not understanding. "It's alright, Chip," Karen explains. "It's just his way of reorienting. See, love, everything's okay." "Karen?" Plankton's voice is a question. "Chip?" Karen nods. "We're right here." Plankton's hand moves to his antennae, his thumb rubbing them absently. It's a soothing gesture, a way to ground himself in reality. "What happened?" Karen's screens flicker with the memory of the chaos. "You had a meltdown," she says gently. "But it's okay. You're safe now." Plankton's eye narrows, his mind racing. He remembers the anger, the noise, the need to escape. "Chip," he says again, his voice filled with regret as he sees his son. Karen nods, her screen softening. "Chip's okay," she assures him. "He saw what happened." Plankton's antennae twitch. He's torn between apologizing and retreating. Chip's voice is small. "Dad, it's okay. I know it's not you." Plankton's eye meets his son's, but he knows he lost control. He feels the bed dip as Karen sits beside him. Her hand finds his, her grip firm and warm. "Remember, love, it's the autism." Plankton nods, his antennae still. He starts to rock, his body swaying back and forth, his way to soothe. Karen knows this motion means he's trying to regain control. "Hhmmm..." he murmurs, the sound deep in his throat. "It's okay," Karen whispers. "You're okay." "Hmm hmm hmm," Plankton continues, his voice a gentle rumble. "What's he doing?" Chip asks, his voice hushed. "It's his way of calming down," Karen explains, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's using humming to soothe himself." "Is he okay?" Karen's hand in his is a reminder that they're all still here, still a family. "It's okay," she says. "This is his way of finding peace." Plankton's humming grows louder, more insistent. "Hmm hmm hmm," he murmurs, his antennae now still. His body rocks in a gentle rhythm, his eye focused on some invisible horizon. "It's okay," Karen whispers. "This is his way." "Dad," Chip asks softly. "Is it helping?" Plankton's hum deepens, his antennae still. Karen nods. "It's his way of finding his center again," she says. Chip watches, his screen filled with concern. Then, Plankton's hand reaches out, grasping at the air. "Karen," he whispers, his voice desperate. "Huggly?" Her heart breaks for her husband. "Plankton," she says softly, her hand on his back. "Do you want me to rock you?" He nods, his antennae still. "Huggly," he whispers, his voice a plea. With a gentle touch, Karen picks him up, cradling his small frame in her arms. He's heavier than he looks, but she doesn't care. This is her Plankton, her love. Plankton's body goes limp, his head resting on her shoulder. She starts to rock him, the motion smooth and even as his eye flutters. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a lullaby. "We're here." Chip watches. He's never seen his dad so vulnerable. The rocking becomes a rhythm, a dance between comfort and pain. Karen's screen flickers with the memory of their first dance, their first kiss, the first time she held him in his arms and promised to love him, autism and all. Chip watches, his screen reflecting a mix of fear and fascination. "Is he okay?" he whispers. "Shh," Karen murmurs. "This is his way." Her screens flicker with a soft light. "You're doing great, love," she says to Plankton. "You're okay." The room is quiet except for Plankton's steady breathing and Karen's gentle rocking. Chip watches, his eyes on his father's peaceful face. The rocking slows, Plankton's breaths even out. His antennae no longer quiver with tension. "Hmm," he murmurs, his body relaxing in Karen's embrace. Plankton's humming fades, replaced by the soft snores of sleep. Karen lowers his head to the pillow, his antennae still. Chip looks up at his mother, his screen etched with questions. "What do we do now?" he asks. Karen's eyes don't leave Plankton's sleeping form. "Now," she says, "we wait. He'll wake up soon." Her screens dim, the tension of the room easing. "It's important to let him sleep it off," she explains. "The meltdown takes a lot out of him." Chip nods, his thoughts racing. He's seen his dad like this before, but never so lost. The Plankton he knows is clever, funny, a master of pranks. This Plankton, the one curled up on the bed, is different. He's vulnerable, raw. It's a side of his dad Chip's still learning to navigate.

GREAT CHIP ii (Autistic author) After what feels like an eternity, Plankton's eye slowly refocus. His body twitches, then relaxes. He blinks, looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. Karen moves closer, her hand on his shoulder. "Welcome back," she says soothingly. Plankton looks up, seeing Chip in the doorway, his eyes full of questions. "What..." Plankton asks, his voice groggy. Chip takes a step forward, his heart racing. "It's okay, Dad," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton blinks again, his gaze sharpening. He looks at Karen. "I had one of my moments, didn't I?" His voice is tinged with self-consciousness. Karen nods, her eyes full of love and understanding. "Yes, you did." Plankton's gaze shifts to Chip, his vulnerability laid bare for his son to see. Chip steps closer, unsure of what to do with his hands, his eyes searching his dad's. "Are you okay?" Chip asks, his voice tentative. "I just got h..." "Yes," Plankton cuts him off, his tone brisk, "I'm fine, ok?" There's a hint of annoyance in his voice, as if the seizure is an inconvenience, something to be pushed aside quickly and forgotten. Chip's heart squeezes at the sight. "Dad, ca..." "I said I'm okay," Plankton repeats, his voice a little sharper this time. There's a defensiveness in his tone that Chip's never heard before. Chip flinches. But he's still confused, and his curiosity won't quit. "But why do..." "I don't want to talk about it, I told you what to know," Plankton snaps, his voice abrupt and final. "So just drop it!" Chip's eyes fill with tears, his curiosity colliding with his dad's discomfort. He's never seen Plankton so agitated before. "Dad I'm so..." "I said I'm okay!" Plankton says. "So JUST STOP ASKING!" Chip's eyes well with tears. He didn't mean to upset him, he just wanted to understand. Karen steps in, placing a comforting hand on Chip's shoulder. "Why don't you go to your room for a bit, honey?" "Ok," Chip says, but he ends up accidentally touching his dad when he stands up to go, brushing against Plankton. And that makes him even angrier.. Plankton jolts away, his face twisting into a grimace. "I said not to touch me!" The room goes deathly quiet. Karen's eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to say something, but Plankton's not done with Chip. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" he yells, his voice echoing off the walls. "I can't even have a moment without you pestering me! YOU'RE the one who's not okay! YOU'RE JUST A KID, CHIP; I NEVER WANT YOU TO EVER THINK ABOUT THIS AGAIN!" Chip's eyes widen, his face flushing with a mix of fear and sadness. He didn't know his dad could be so mad. He turns and runs to his room, slamming the door behind him. Karen sighs heavily. This isn't how she wanted Chip to learn about Plankton's condition. She knows her husband's frustration is a defense mechanism, a way for him to cope with his own fears. But it doesn't make it any easier for Chip to understand. Plankton's eye follows Chip as he runs off, his own expression a mix of anger and upset. He didn't like to scream, but the sensory overload from the seizure had left him on edge, his emotions raw. His son didn't mean any harm, but the sudden contact had been too much. His skin feels like it's buzzing, his mind racing with the echoes of his own voice. Plankton sighs. He doesn't like his son to see him like this, so vulnerable and out of control. Karen never liked to see Plankton upset. She knew to tread carefully with him when he's so explosive, as he's now breathing heavily. "Plankton," she starts gently, "Chip didn't mean to upset you. He's just trying to understand." But Plankton's still tense, not replying to her. Karen saw the frustration and wanted to try again, not knowing if he understood what she said. She inched closer to him cautiously. Plankton's eye darted around the room, avoiding hers. He knew his reaction was too much, but his senses were still screaming. He felt like a failure, unable to control his own body. Karen waited patiently, giving Plankton the space he needed. Her hand hovered near his arm, ready to offer comfort, but she knew better than to touch him now. Plankton's shoulders slumped as the reality of the situation sank in. He had always tried so hard to hide his seizures from Chip, not wanting to burden him. But now the secret was out, and his son had witnessed his most vulnerable moment. He felt a twinge of guilt, knowing he had snapped at Chip. It was his way of protecting his own pride. Plankton took a deep breath, his heart thumping in his chest. He didn't want his son to see him as weak or broken. Karen's hand remained hovering, a silent offering of comfort. He knew she understood, but he didn't want her defending Chip either. Plankton's mind raced, his heart still pounding. He felt exposed, his secret laid bare for his son to see. The room was suffocating, his thoughts a tornado. He didn't want Chip to think less of him, to see him as damaged. Plankton took another deep breath, his eye focusing on anything but Karen's concerned gaze. He felt a knot in his stomach, his chest tight, both of which can in themselves cause an overload on their own. But Karen didn't realize when she reached out to touch his shoulder.. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but to Plankton, it was like a bomb had detonated in his sensory system. He jolted away, his eye wide with panic. "Sorry," Karen murmured, quickly retracting her hand. She knew better than to push when he was like this. Plankton nodded, his breathing steadying slightly. "It's okay," he managed to say, his voice still tight. "I know you're trying." Karen sat down next to him, her hand resting on the couch between them, a silent bridge of support. "We'll talk to Chip together, when you're ready." Plankton nodded, his eye still avoiding hers. In the quiet, Plankton felt his self-consciousness grow. He didn't want Chip to see him this way, to think less of him. It was something he'd managed to hide for so long, his autism, his moments of overload. Now, it was out in the open, and he felt like a creature exposed to the elements. The room felt too warm, too bright, each sound amplified. He knew his reaction was extreme, but his mind couldn't help it. The effort it took to appear 'normal' was like swimming against a riptide, and now the current had dragged him under. He could see the worry in Karen's screen, the sadness that he'd lashed out at Chip. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He didn't want Chip to think he didn't care, that he didn't want to be there for him. He just couldn't handle the touch, not now. Not with his senses still in overdrive. Karen knew that look, the one of internal battle. "Why don't we go talk to him?" she suggested, her voice soft. Plankton nodded, pushing himself out of the chair. His legs felt like jelly, his heart racing. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before opening the door to Chip's room.

SLEEPING WHUMPEES leyswhumpdump: Sleeping whumpees. Curled up on cold cell floors, seeking the only escape they can get. Eyes red behind their closed lids because they cried themselves to sleep. Tucked up under warm blankets. Cradled by a caretaker. Peaceful and smiling even in slumber, or screaming from night terrors. Restless from fever. Exhausted in the back of a car, their mind and body just given out. Falling asleep after fighting it for so long. Just an adorable trope all round.

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."

Why do people sleep talk? Posted May 24, 2009 Why do people sleep talk? In order to better understand parasomnias, it is important to understand what happens while we sleep. We start out awake when we lie down, close our eyes, and fall asleep, entering into light sleep, which then quickly gives way to deeper sleep. This is referred to as a sleep cycle, and generally lasts between 90-120 minutes. Sleep cycles again several more times during the night, though as the night progresses. The different stages of sleep are characterized by distinct brain wave patterns, as well as by differences in other physiologic parameters, such as muscle tone, eye movement, heart rate, breathing rate and patterns, and blood pressure. In REM sleep, dreams are most vivid and memorable. As one transitions between the different stages of sleep, there can be brief awakenings, either partial or full, following which most people immediately return to sleep. Sometimes, however, there are strong pulls both to wakefulness and to deep sleep, and the result is that part of the brain continues to be in slow wave sleep, while another part is simultaneously in a state of wakefulness. The behavioral consequence is one of the NREM parasomnias: sleep walking, sleep talking, sleep eating, confusional arousals, night terrors. The person going through one of these is not aware of what she or he is doing and is often incoherent while it is happening, and has no recollection of it after. Dennis Rosen, M.D.

4 min read As you doze off, your face muscles gradually relax, giving your mouth free rein to drop open. Snoring is noisy breathing while you sleep. Air flows past relaxed tissues in your throat causing the tissues to vibrate as you breathe. Snoring can be caused by a number of factors such as the anatomy of your mouth and/or sinuses. When you doze off and progress from a light sleep to a deeper sleep, the muscles in the roof of your mouth (soft palate), tongue and throat relax. The more narrowed your airway, the more forceful the airflow becomes. As a person inhales and exhales, the moving air causes the tissue to flutter and make noise. Narrowing or partial blockage of the airways can make these relaxed tissues flutter. Air passing through these vibrations causes the rumbling sounds of snoring. In other words, the muscles that support the airway relax, allowing the breathing tube to constrict. When the airway gets narrower, the velocity of the air moving through it increases. The air vibrates more and creates more sound. When you mouth-breathe, your tongue is lower than usual to allow for extra air. Snoring can be both chronic, meaning it happens every time you drift off, or it may just occur from time to time, depending on different factors. Sometimes, poor oral and facial muscle control are the common factors. Also saliva is more likely to drip out with the mouth open during sleep. Mouth breathing can lead to saliva running out of the mouth as it unintentionally escapes after saliva pooling in the mouth. Yet air flow through the throat the soft tissues vibrate and cause snoring. The narrower the airway becomes, the more the air is forced and the louder the noise. Sleeping with your mouth open increases the amount of air that passes through your mouth. Facial muscles relax in your sleep and your mouth falls open. Saliva is more likely to leave the mouth when a person keeps their mouth open during sleep. It can spill out of your mouth as drool when your facial muscles relax. Since the muscles around your mouth are relaxed, your mouth can be relaxed enough that saliva slips out side. It's unintentionally, it’s more likely to happen when you’re not consciously able to control it when you’re sleeping. But when you’re sleeping you’re relaxed and so are your facial muscles.

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𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 24 (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 "I've had enough of this!" Vickie snaps. "He's just a burden. Look at him, he can't eve-" Chip's fist hits the desk with a loud smack, cutting Vickie's words off. His eyes blaze with a fiery determination. "That's my dad you're talking about!" he says, his voice shaking with anger. The room stills, the tension thick. "And he's not a burden!" Vickie's face contorts in shock. Karen's eyes are proud, but filled with fear. She watches as Chip's shoulders square, his voice strong and firm. "I'm not leaving without this," he declares, his jaw set. "And if you want him hurt, you'll have to kick me out too." Nurse Vickie looks at him. "Oh you've done nothing wrong, sweet..." But Chip doesn't care, his mind racing. "I have!" he says, his voice rising. "I'm the one causing trouble!" He glares at her, his fists clenched. "I'm the problem, not him!" He throws his backpack at the wall. The room echoes with the sound of books hitting the floor, the clatter of his defiance. "Now, are you going to kick me out or keep hurting him?" Vickie's eyes narrow, suspicion growing. "What are you playing at?" "I'm not playing," Chip says, his voice shaking. "If you want a problem, I'll give you one. Just leave him alone." He kicks over a chair, his heart racing. He's fighting for his father, for the right to be understood. Vickie's eyes narrow, her mouth a thin line. "Young man," she says, her voice stern. "You need to calm down." But Chip's not calming down. He's just getting started. "You think you know him?" he challenges her, his eyes filled with a passion that's been building for too long. "You think you know what it's like to live with autism?" His voice echoes through the small office. Vickie takes a step back, her hands on her hips. "I know what's best for this school," she says firmly, her eyes cold. But Chip's not backing down. "You don't know anything," he says, his voice shaking. "You don't know what it's like to have a meltdown, to need space." He slams his fist into the desk again, the sound ringing out like a declaration of war. "You don't know what it's like to be him!" The room is silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Karen's heart swells with pride, but her stomach is in knots. "Chip, please..." she says, but he's not listening. He's fighting a battle she wishes he never had to face. Vickie's expression flickers between annoyance and confusion. "Young man, if you don't calm down, I will be forced to call the principal," she says. But Chip just shakes his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "Then do it," he challenges. "Call the principal. Tell them to kick me out. Tell them to leave my dad alone. I don't wanna attend a school where my dad isn't respected." His voice cracks, the tears he's been fighting spilling over. Karen's hand is on his shoulder, trying to calm him, but Chip's determination is a force to be reckoned with. "Chip, sweetie, you don't have to do this," she whispers. But he shrugs her off. "I do," he says, his voice steady despite the tremble in his chest. "I won't let anyone hurt him like this again." His eyes are wet, but his stance is firm. "I'd rather be kicked out than see him suffer. I've made mistakes, but he's not a mistake. He only got sick because his needs weren't respected. Now, let us all go." Vickie's face reddens, her patience wearing thin. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "I'll call the principal. You're both coming with me." She grabs Plankton's arm, ignoring his flinch. Karen and Hanna follow Chip as he trails behind Vickie. The walk to the principal's office feels like a march to the gallows. Plankton's body is tight with tension, his antennae twitching with every step. Chip's heart races, his mind a tornado of fear and anger. He can't believe he's doing this, but he's seen his dad suffer enough. The principal greets them all. "Nurse Vickie, and Chip; hello!" But Chip's face is a mask of determined anger, his eyes fixed on the woman who had caused his father so much pain. "My dad's in trouble because he's different, and she won't let him be!" He points an accusing finger at Vickie, his words a declaration. The principal's eyebrows shoot up, his screen a picture of surprise. "What seems to be the trouble?" his voice calm, his eyes quickly assessing the situation. Vickie starts to explain, her voice a river of accusations. "He's a disruption, he's..." But Chip cuts her off, his voice a knife. "I'm the disruption!" he says. "I'm the one who threw the chair, I'm the one who yelled. My father's condition is not a disruption. It's a part of who he is." He turns to Vickie. "I'd appreciate it if you could be more understanding." The principal's eyes flicker between Chip and Vickie, his expression neutral. "Chip, I understand you're upset. But throwing chairs and yelling is not the way to express yourself." He pauses, looking at Plankton huddled in the corner. "But I also see that something has happened here that we need to address." Vickie's grip on Plankton's arm loosens, her face a mask of defensiveness. "The father was just being difficult, and was acting strangely." The principal's gaze sharpens. "Difficult? Strangely?" he repeats, his eyes drilling into hers. "Care to elaborate?" Vickie stammers, her confidence waning. "He was rocking back and forth, and... his antennae... they... I don't know, just..." She trails off, unsure of herself. The principal's gaze remains on her, his patience thinning like a wavering thread. "I see," he says, his voice calm. He turns to Plankton, his expression gentle. "Is that right?" Plankton's antennae quiver, his body a taut wire of nervous energy. "No," he says, his voice a croak. "It's... it's just me." He can't meet the principal's gaze, his eyes darting to the floor. "I... I just need..." But Chip's voice cuts through the silence like a sword, his words a shield for his father. "It's not his fault," he says firmly. "Autisticaphobia exists in this school. It's not his behavior that's the issue, it's the lack of understanding and empathy." The principal's eyes narrow, his gaze on Vickie, who shifts uncomfortably under the weight of accusation. "Is this true?" he asks her, his voice calm but his eyes like steel. Vickie opens her mouth, but no words come out. She looks from Plankton, huddled in the corner, to Chip, standing tall and furious. "I was just trying to calm everyone," she says weakly. The principal's gaze never wavers from her. "What happened in my office, Nurse Vickie, is not calming. It's discrimination." His voice is low, but it resonates like a thunderclap. "Your job is to support our students and their families, not to make them feel less than." Vickie's cheeks burn with shame, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I didn't mean..." But Chip's voice is a wall, his words unyielding. "It's not about what you meant," he says. "It's about what you did." His eyes are on the principal, his stance unwavering. "He's my dad, and I'll do anything to protect him." The principal's face is still, his eyes thoughtful. "Chip, you need to understand that this isn't the way to handle things," he says, his tone measured. "But I also appreciate your concern for your father." He looks at Vickie, his gaze stern. Vickie's eyes dart around the room, her discomfort palpable. "I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice small. "I didn't know..." The principal's gaze is steady, his voice firm. "Ignorance is no excuse," he says. "We will have a training session for all staff on autism awareness, and we'll make sure everyone understands neurodiverse needs." He turns to Plankton, who's still huddled in the corner. "Mr. Plankton, I'm sorry for any discomfort you've felt here today," he says, his tone soothing. "Your son has made it clear that your needs are important, and we will respect them." He glances at Vickie. "This won't happen again." Chip's chest loosens, his breaths coming easier. He's done it. He's protected his father. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye flickers up to Chip's. There's something in them, something new. Recognition? Pride? Chip isn't sure, but his heart swells with hope. Slowly, tentatively, Plankton moves towards him, his tiny body shaking with the effort of controlling his overwhelmed senses. Chip holds his breath, his eyes on his father. Karen watches the scene with a mixture of pride and sorrow as Plankton's arms extend, a silent offering of love and comfort. Chip's heart races, his eyes wide. He's never seen his dad want to hug him before. But his instincts kick in, the days of learning about autism guiding his actions. He steps forward, his own arms wrapping around Plankton's shoulders. Their embrace is tight, a physical manifestation of the bridge they're building. Chip can feel Plankton's heart racing against his chest, his antennae twitching slightly. But it's not with fear or panic, it's with a love so pure it's overwhelming. He squeezes his dad tighter, his eyes closing as he whispers, "I've got you."

https://www.sleepfoundation.org/parasomnias/hypnic-jerks

Not ALL snoring is harmful. The reasons for snoring stem from the relaxation of throat muscles when you sleep. Less airway volume can mean that the relaxed throat vibrates when you breathe. It’s the universal cause of snoring (harmful or normal) The tongue is one of the main factors in snoring and sleeping with mouth open. During sleep, the muscles in the back of the mouth, nose, or throat become relaxed and breath flowing through the airway causes them to vibrate or flap. When you go to sleep, the primary muscles of your tongue and your throat relax. For you to keep your airway open, support muscles for the throat must hold firm. Not all snoring is sleep apnoea. Breathing noise or ‘snoring’ can be normal. The restricted airflow results in a rumbling, rattling sound that occurs when air flows past the relaxed tissues. Snoring sounds range from quiet whistling or vibrating to a loud grumbling, snorting, or rumbling. It results when the upper airway, specifically the throat and the nasal passage, vibrate from turbulent airflow during breathing while asleep. This commonly affects the soft palate and uvula, the tissue that hangs down at the back of the throat. Narrowing at the base of the tongue may also play a role. The root cause of snoring is when the air you’re breathing doesn’t flow smoothly through your nose and/or throat when you’re sleeping. Instead, it bumps into the surrounding tissues, which causes a vibration. The resulting vibration makes the snoring sound as you breathe. Your tongue position may also play a part. Snoring is caused by things such as your tongue, mouth, throat or airways in your nose vibrating as you breathe. It happens because these parts of your body relax and narrow when you're asleep. Sometimes it's caused by a condition like sleep apnoea, which is when your airways become temporarily blocked as you sleep. Snoring is the sound that air makes when it passes across the relaxed or loose tissues of the upper airway.

ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ' *ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ* ' ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ; ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧" ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈ? ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ‧" ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ʰᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ! ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵈᵃʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳ⁻ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵍᵘʸˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ' *ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ* ' "‧‧‧ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠᵃˢᵗ‽" ᵂʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵃˡᵉ‧ ᴵⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᔆᵗᵒᵖ' ʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴴᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ!' ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ!' ᴿᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴳᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ!' ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢʰᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʷᵃʸ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴺᵒ!' 'ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ‧‧‧' ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴺᵒ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴿᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵗ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧" "ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ; ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴴᵒⁿᵉˢᵗˡʸ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵉᵃᵗˢ ᵐᵉᵃᵗ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵉᵗ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉʳ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒˡᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵛᵉⁿᵍᵉᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐⁱᵉˢ; ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵃᵇˡᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧

ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗᵉ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ' *ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ* ' ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ; ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧" ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈ? ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ‧" ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ʰᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ! ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵈᵃʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳ⁻ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵍᵘʸˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧" ᴴᵉ ᶜᵘʳˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ‧" '‧‧‧' "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ?" '‧‧‧' ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ' *ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ* ' "‧‧‧ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧

NREM Stage N1 This stage of non-REM sleep is the typical transition from wakefulness to sleep and generally lasts only a few minutes. Stage N1 is the lightest stage of sleep; patients awakened from it usually don’t perceive that they were actually asleep During this stage: Eye movements are typically slow and rolling. heartbeat and breathing slow down muscles begin to relax you produce low amplitude mixed frequencies waves in the theta range (4 to 7 Hz) NREM Stage N2 This next stage of non-REM sleep comprises the largest percentage of total sleep time and is considered a lighter stage of sleep from which you can be awakened easily. This is the stage before you enter deep sleep. During this stage: heartbeat and breathing slow down further no eye movements body temperature drops Sleep spindles and K-complexes are two distinct brain wave features that appear for the first time NREM Stage N3 This final stage of non-REM sleep is the deepest sleep stage. Stage N3 sleep is known as slow-wave, or delta, sleep. Your body performs a variety of important health-promoting tasks in this final non-REM stage. During this stage: arousal from sleep is difficult heartbeat and breathing are at their slowest rate no eye movements body is fully relaxed delta brain waves are present tissue repair and growth, and cell regeneration occurs immune system strengthens REM Stage R There are two phases of REM sleep: phasic and tonic. Phasic REM sleep contains bursts of rapid eye movements, while tonic REM sleep does not. Stage R occurs about 90 minutes after you fall asleep, and is the primary “dreaming” stage of sleep. Stage R sleep lasts roughly 10 minutes the first time, increasing with each REM cycle. The final cycle of stage R may last roughly between 30 to 60 minutes. During this stage: eye movements become rapid during phasic REM breathing and heart rate increases and become more variable muscles become paralyzed, but twitches may occur brain activity is markedly increased When you fall asleep at night, you cycle through all of these stages of sleep multiple times — roughly every 90 minutes or so.

When you are getting a massage, your body is going into a state of relaxation. This can be a very calming and peaceful experience. As your muscles relax and your body releases tension, you can start to drift off into a state of slumber. These techniques can help to release tension and stress, allowing the body to reach a state of deep relaxation. The combination of these techniques can help to create an environment that is conducive to sleep. The massage itself can also be very calming and soothing. The gentle pressure, combined with the warmth of the massage therapist's hands, can help to relax the body and mind. When a client falls asleep while being touched by another person it indicates a deep level of trust and relaxation.

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⣿⡏⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣶⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣄⣀⣀⣤⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠓⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠉⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⢀⣠⣼⣿⣟⣻⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⠆ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣭⡋⣻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⡿⠻⠷ ⠀⠘⠉⠨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣬⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠘⠻⣿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠁⠙⢿⡍⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠁⠀⠉⠛⠋⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠄⣀⣄⡤⣤⡴⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⡀⢀⠈⠈⠙⠮⡽⢭⡻⣝⡻⣏⠿⡭⢯⠝⡊⠉⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣄⣦⡴⣤⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀ ⡾⣽⣳⢯⣟⣷⣻⡽⣯⣟⣿⣻⢿⣿⣶⣤⣄⠀⢀⠊⡀⠈⠃⠻⣜⢳⡭⡛⠑⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⢂⣥⣶⣿⢿⣿⣻⢯⡿⣽⣳⢟⡾⣽⣻⣟ ⣟⡷⣯⣟⡾⣧⣟⣷⣻⡼⣾⢽⣻⢾⣝⣿⣻⣿⣶⣤⣀⠠⠄⠁⠈⢁⠂⠁⡀⠄⣈⣰⣼⣾⣿⣟⡿⣞⡿⣼⢯⡿⣵⢯⣯⢿⣽⣳⢟⡾ ⣯⢿⡵⣯⢷⡻⣜⠶⣭⢳⣭⢻⡜⣯⢟⣾⣷⣯⣟⡿⣿⣷⣦⡔⠂⢀⠐⢠⣱⣾⡿⣟⡿⣽⣾⡽⢾⡹⣝⢧⡻⡼⣭⠳⣏⡟⡾⣭⢿⡽ ⣯⡟⡽⣎⢷⡹⢎⡷⢎⣳⢬⢧⣛⡴⣫⢶⡹⣞⡽⣻⣷⣽⣻⢿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣟⣯⣿⣽⡟⣯⢳⡝⣣⡝⢮⣓⠷⣳⢎⡟⡶⢭⡳⣭⢏⡿ ⢷⡹⣳⡝⣮⢝⡫⢜⠫⠘⠌⠂⠁⠊⡑⠪⠱⢎⡵⢫⡞⣽⢻⣿⣾⣽⣻⣾⢿⣻⣙⢶⡹⢎⠳⠉⠓⠈⠁⠈⢉⠁⠋⢞⡹⢣⡟⣜⣫⢼ ⢧⣛⡵⣚⠕⠊⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣁⢀⠀⢀⠀⡈⠡⠙⣜⢣⠻⡼⢿⢿⡹⢧⣳⡽⠂⢁⠀⡀⢀⢁⣁⠠⢀⠀⡀⠄⠀⠀⠃⠙⡞⣬⢳ ⡻⡜⠶⠉⠀⠈⠁⠄⣠⣼⣶⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣔⡂⠠⠌⠋⠵⣫⢎⠽⠋⠁⣀⢨⣴⣶⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣤⡁⢀⠈⠀⠈⢱⢫ ⡳⠍⠀⠀⠀⢈⣴⣿⣿⣟⣯⢷⣯⣿⣷⣟⣮⣿⣽⢿⣿⣷⣦⣁⠂⡀⠂⢠⣱⣶⣿⢿⣻⣽⣞⣿⣿⣷⣟⡾⣿⡽⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠁⠀⠑ ⠓⠀⠄⠠⢡⣾⣿⢯⡷⣾⣽⡿⣟⢯⡻⣭⢻⣜⡻⢿⡾⣷⣟⣿⣿⣶⣽⣿⣿⣽⣾⢿⡻⡝⢯⡞⣵⢫⡟⣿⣷⣟⡷⣯⢿⣿⣦⠐⢀⠀ ⠁⠈⠀⢰⣿⡿⣯⣟⣾⡿⣏⢷⡹⣎⠷⣭⢳⠮⣝⣣⢯⣝⡻⢿⣿⣯⣿⣿⠻⣝⢮⣓⠷⣹⠳⣞⡵⣫⢾⡱⢯⢿⣿⣽⡿⣽⣿⣆⠀⠀ ⠀⠠⠀⣿⣿⣽⣳⣾⣟⡳⡝⣎⢷⣩⣛⡴⠫⠙⠌⠓⠺⠜⣭⢳⢮⣝⡳⢎⣿⣘⡧⠋⠞⠱⠛⠼⣧⣛⡼⡹⣏⠾⣹⣿⣟⣷⣻⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠰⣿⣳⢯⣷⣿⢭⡳⣝⡺⡜⣶⠋⢁⠐⠈⢀⠐⡀⢈⠠⠙⠶⣮⣽⠛⠉⠁⡀⠐⠀⠀⠤⠀⠈⠹⣞⡵⢭⣫⢗⡽⣿⣞⣷⣻⡖⠀ ⠀⠀⠱⣿⡽⣯⣿⡟⢮⡵⢣⣟⠼⠁⢀⠂⣤⣼⣾⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⡀⢠⣰⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣆⡀⠆⠀⡙⢾⣣⠗⣯⢞⣿⣻⢶⣻⡕⠀ ⠀⠀⢩⢿⡽⣞⣿⡝⣧⡝⣳⢞⠁⠀⠄⣼⣿⡿⣽⣞⣳⣟⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣳⣟⡾⣽⣿⣷⡀⠂⠄⢚⡧⣻⡜⣯⢾⣯⣟⡷⡍⠀ ⠀⢀⠂⣿⡽⣯⢿⣛⠶⣭⢳⣞⠀⠀⢐⣿⣿⣽⣳⣿⡟⣯⢻⡽⣻⣿⢿⡻⣏⢿⡹⣿⣿⣳⣯⣿⡧⠐⠀⢢⡝⣶⡹⣎⣿⣞⣷⣻⠄⠀ ⣃⠀⠂⢸⣿⣯⣟⣯⢟⡶⡹⢾⡄⠀⠌⣿⣷⢯⣿⡷⣹⢎⠷⡩⢓⢮⠳⡝⣎⠷⣹⢳⣿⡷⣯⣿⡧⠃⠠⢱⡹⢶⡹⣞⣿⡽⣞⡧⠐⠀ ⢧⡈⠄⡈⢿⣷⢯⣿⣯⢖⣯⢻⣧⠀⠈⣿⣿⢯⣿⣷⢫⢾⡁⢀⠈⠀⠁⠀⠌⣹⡱⣏⣿⣟⡷⣿⠏⡀⠡⢧⡛⣧⢻⣽⣿⣽⡻⠄⠁⠀ ⡳⣥⠀⠠⠙⣿⣯⢿⣿⡞⣜⣣⢿⡆⢀⠸⣿⣟⣾⣯⡟⣾⣧ void⠀⡀⠌⣰⡷⣹⣽⡿⣽⣿⡿⠀⢄⣾⢧⢻⡼⣻⣿⢷⣯⠛⢴ ⡝⡶⢣⠀⡁⠸⣿⣟⣾⣿⣧⢳⣎⡽⡄⠠⠹⣿⣾⡽⣿⣎⢿⣧⣀⠀⢄⣶⢿⣱⣿⣿⡽⣷⡿⢀⠀⣼⣏⢾⡯⣿⣿⣯⣿⡟⠀⢁⡘⢮ ⣯⡝⣯⢳⡀⠀⠙⣿⣯⣿⣷⡯⣽⡞⣽⣆⠠⠘⢿⣿⡽⣿⣷⣻⢬⡻⣜⢮⣳⣿⣿⣳⣿⠏⠀⢄⣾⠟⣼⢻⣼⣿⢯⣿⠟⢀⠠⣠⢏⡷ ⣷⡽⣎⢯⢷⣄⠀⠜⢻⣯⣿⢿⣧⣟⠶⣹⢷⡀⡈⠽⢿⣷⣯⢿⣷⣻⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡁⢀⣴⡿⣭⢻⣼⣿⡿⣯⣿⠏⡐⠠⣐⡳⢮⣽ ⣷⣻⣮⢏⡾⣹⣦⠀⠀⢻⣿⣟⡿⣯⣟⡱⣞⣻⣆⠀⢈⠻⢿⣿⣻⣿⣟⣿⣾⠟⠁⠀⣤⣿⢻⡜⣧⣿⡿⣯⣿⡿⠃⡀⢠⢳⡭⣝⣳⢾ ⡷⣯⣟⣿⣞⡵⣫⢷⡀⠀⠉⣿⣿⡽⣿⣷⣣⢷⣹⢻⣦⡀⠈⠙⠻⣿⠿⠋⠁⠀⣼⠿⣝⠶⣫⣾⣿⡿⣽⣿⠛⠀⠀⣤⢛⡶⣹⢾⡽⣯ ⣟⡷⣾⣽⣻⣷⣣⢏⡿⣆⡁⠀⠹⢿⣷⣻⣿⣮⣳⢏⡶⢻⣳⣄⠀⡀⠀⣀⡾⣝⣣⠟⣼⣳⣿⣟⣷⣿⠟⠡⢈⢠⡿⣴⢫⢾⣽⣫⢷⣯ ⣯⣟⡾⣵⢯⣿⣿⣮⡽⣏⢷⣤⠐⠈⠻⢿⣾⣟⣿⣾⣵⢫⢶⡹⣟⢤⡳⣏⠿⡼⣥⣿⣷⢿⣽⣾⠟⠁⠂⣠⡶⡟⣧⢏⣿⡿⣶⢯⣟⡾ ⡷⣯⡽⢯⣟⡾⣽⢿⣿⣯⢞⡭⢿⣄⠁⠈⠹⢿⣾⣳⢿⣿⣧⣻⢬⣳⢣⣭⢻⣵⣿⣟⣾⣿⠟⠁⠀⢂⣵⢿⡹⣝⣾⣿⢿⣽⣳⣟⡾⣽ ⣟⣷⢻⣟⡾⣽⢯⣞⣯⢿⣿⣺⢵⣚⡷⣤⠁⠀⠙⠿⣿⣞⡿⣿⣧⣷⣫⣾⣿⣻⣷⡿⠛⠁⠀⣁⣼⢿⡹⣎⣷⣿⡿⣽⢯⣶⣻⢞⣽⣳ ⠙⢾⣻⢾⣽⣳⣟⡾⣽⢯⣟⣿⣷⣏⢾⡹⣻⣄⡀⠀⠉⠿⣿⣷⣯⢷⣟⣷⣿⡟⠋⡐⠀⢢⣵⠿⣩⡞⣵⣿⣿⢯⣟⣭⣟⡾⣽⣛⣮⣟ ⠀⠈⠹⣻⣶⣻⠾⣽⣏⡿⣮⢷⣻⢿⣷⣽⢲⡝⡷⢧⣀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⡿⢋⡁⠠⢁⣰⢾⢯⡝⣞⣳⣿⣿⣻⡽⡾⣽⠾⣭⣟⣷⡻⠞⠀ ⠀⠈⢀⠀⠻⣿⣟⣧⣟⡷⣯⢿⣭⢿⣽⣻⣿⣾⡹⣏⡽⣳⣤⡀⠀⠀⠄⢂⢤⣵⣟⡻⣎⣷⣽⣿⢿⡽⣞⣷⣻⣽⣳⣟⣷⣿⠾⠁⠀⠁ ⣏⢦⠀⠈⠀⠈⢻⣿⣾⣽⣳⡟⣾⣛⣮⢷⡯⣟⣿⣾⣵⢫⡝⡿⣶⣤⣴⡻⣏⠷⣎⣷⣿⣟⣯⣿⣾⣽⣿⣶⣿⣶⣿⣾⣿⣥⣦⣤⣤⣴ ⡽⢎⡷⣂⠠⠐⠂⠈⠻⣾⣷⣻⣳⣟⡾⣯⣽⣻⢾⡽⣿⢿⣼⣳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣮⣿⣿⣟⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣻ ⣽⣫⠼⣭⡓⢦⣁⣀⠄⢈⠻⢿⡷⣯⢷⣛⣾⣳⢯⣟⡾⢯⣟⣷⣿⣮⣷⣿⣿⡻⣧⢿⣽⣳⣿⣿⣽⣟⣿⣾⣿⣵⣿⣧⣟⣾⣿⣣⣿⣺

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bio !! ◌﹒𝒕һᥱrᥱ's 𝐬𝔬𝚖ᥱth𝓲nᧁ m𝓲𝖘𝖘𝓲nᧁ, 𝓲 𝕔𝒶n't qu𝓲𝒕ᥱ f𝓲ᧁurᥱ 𝓲t 𝔬u𝒕 . . .﹒⊂﹔꩜﹔⊃ ⇆ @ name﹒✶ ıllı﹒ 𝖌𝚊p𝒊n𝖌 hℴl౿ 𝒊n 𝕞ᵧ sℴul, 𝒊 𝐝ℴn't knℴw w𝙝at 𝚊bℴut . . . % ⺌ ❰ ❰﹒pro ╱ nouns﹕gender ﹒⿴𝕵ᵤₛ𝚝 ℓ᥆᥆𝓴ⅈn𝓰 𝒇᥆r 𝕤᥆m𝐞𝓽𝘩ⅈn𝓰 𝚝o 𝒇ⅈll 𝚝ₕₑ 𝐯𖤐ⅈ𝗱 . . .〹﹕➜ @social﹕＜﹔◐﹔＞ #﹕➜ @social﹕! ⊞﹒ꗃ⿻﹕➜ @social﹕▓﹐⇵ ◖ ？⇆ ɪ'ᴍ ᴏɴ ᴇᴅɢᴇ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙɪᴛ ᴀɴɴᴏʏᴇᴅ ⇆﹗◗⬙﹒nicknames and/or age﹒⨳ ﹐⟢ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝚒'𝚖 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 ᴍʏ 𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 . . . ◎﹕what you post on ur acc﹒⬚ ✮﹒ɪ𝖋 ɪ 𝒹✦𝒏'𝐭 ⌕𝙪𝕥 ɪ𝐭 𝒹✦⍵n, m𝚊ᥡᵇ౿ ɪ ⍵✦ꪀ'𝐭 𝖋ᴇᴇ𝘭 𝚊l✦𝒏౿﹗✹﹒ @friendꜝꜝ ㄑ﹒@friend ﹒⊹﹢﹒@friend﹐罒 bio made by vega's grove / teardrops <3 (remove creds when using)

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⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⣀⣀⡀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⣿⡟⣩⣴⣬⡙⢿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣩⣤⣦⣍⢻⣿⣧⠀ ⢰⣿⣿⣱⣿⣿⣿⣿⡎⣿⣿⣿⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣿⣿⡆ ⠸⣿⣿⣇⢻⣿⣿⣿⠇⣿⣿⣿⠸⣿⣿⣿⠟⣼⣿⣿⠃ ⠀⠙⣿⣿⣷⣬⣭⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⣭⣵⣾⣿⣿⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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

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⌗◻⚬⃝⟢⟢⌖◻⚬◼∞⌖✴

*✯🛰. ,

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𝕔𝕣𝕪𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕕 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝖈𝖗𝖞𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖉𝖐𝖎𝖓 𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝒜𝓇ℯ 𝒱𝒶𝓁𝒾𝒹

𝔙𝔒ℑ𝔇 - Mᴇʟᴀɴɪᴇ Mᴀʀᴛɪɴᴇᴢ 1:50 ━❍──────── 4:07 ↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺ VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100% LYRICS: 𝔓𝔦𝔭𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔦𝔰𝔢, ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔴 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔬𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔩 ℑ 𝔤𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔞 𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔭𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔬𝔦𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔦𝔠𝔢, 𝔶𝔢𝔞𝔥 𝔗𝔯𝔶𝔫𝔞 𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔬𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔰, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔬𝔦𝔡 𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔏𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔰𝔰 ℑ'𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔫𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔲𝔫, 𝔶𝔢𝔞𝔥 ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫' 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔤𝔲𝔫, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔬𝔦𝔡 𝔏𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔣𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰, ℑ 𝔧𝔲𝔡𝔤𝔢 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔎𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔫' 𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔶, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔞 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔡𝔦𝔢𝔡, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔗𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰