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∞

( ๑‾̀◡‾́)(‾̀◡‾́ ๑)

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＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 2 They maneuver him into the wheelchair, and he winces as his leg meets the firm cushion. The nurse nods sympathetically. "It'll take some getting used to, but you'll manage." She gets his stuffed bear and blanket, placing them carefully in his lap. Plankton leans his head back, his eye drifting closed again as they get crutches. Karen follows the nurse as they navigate the hospital corridors. She's relieved to finally reach the car, helping him in with gentle care. His head lolls to the side as she buckles him in, his snores a testament to the powerful medication. The drive home feels endless. Every bump in the road jolts her nerves, but Plankton remains oblivious, his chest rising and falling evenly. She glances over, his hand resting on the stuffed bear, fingers lax. The house is a silent fortress when they arrive. Karen managed to get him in. He mumbles something incoherent as she helps lift him onto the couch. His eyelid flickers open, and he looks around confused before it closes again. She also leaves the wheelchair near. Pillows are arranged just so, the TV remote within easy reach, and his favorite blanket drapes his legs like a warm embrace. He mumbles a thank you, his eye still half-closed with sleep. Karen makes him comfortable, his head nestled against the pillows. She kisses his forehead. "Rest," she whispers, her voice a soft caress. "I'll be right here." Plankton's snores become more pronounced as Karen sits by his side. Just then, Karen's friend Sandy unexpectedly comes inside. "What happened?" she gasps. Karen smiles weakly. "He's sleepy." Sandy's eyes widen as she takes in the cast and the wheelchair. "What...? Why..." Sandy exclaims. "It's okay," Karen says. "Plankton had an accident. He'll be fine, yet it's going to be a long road to recovery." Sandy nods, a look of concern etching her features. "How can I help?" Karen's eyes fill with gratitude. "Could you... could you stay with him while I make food?" Sandy nods firmly. "Of course." Plankton's snores grow softer as Sandy sits beside him as Karen finishes up a batch of chum. Plankton stirs slightly, his snores quieter now. "Karen," Sandy calls from the living room. "He's waking up." Karen sets the food aside, wiping her hands on a towel as she rushes in. Plankton's eye blinks open, looking around confused. "What's...what's going on?" he mumbles. Karen smiles reassuringly. "You had surgery, Plankton. Do you remembe---" He nods, his eye half-lidded. "I...fell. But when’d she get here?" Plankton said as he recognized Sandy. Karen chuckles softly. "You've been out of it for a bit. She came a bit after you fell asleep." Sandy smiles. "I'm just here to help. What do you need?" Karen's shoulders sag with relief. "Could you help me get his wheelchair? We'll need to eat at the table." Karen guides Plankton. He winces as he lowers himself, his leg still tender and foreign in its cast. They make their way to the dinner table, Sandy right behind them. Karen serves him a steaming plate. He picks at the food, his eye still hazy from the anesthesia. Sandy fills a glass of water, placing it within his reach. "How long...?" Plankton's words trail off as he tries to remember the doctor's instructions. "How long will I be in this...this...thing?" He gestures to the cast, his frustration clear. Karen takes a deep breath, her hand resting on his shoulder. "It's going to be a few weeks, love. But think of it as a chance to rest and recover." She knows he doesn't want to appear helpless. Sandy sits across from Karen and Plankton, curious but tentative, as she knows he can have a fiery temper at times. "So, what happened Plank..." He cuts her off, his voice sharp. "I fell. That's what happened. I don't know much after that." Plankton's frustration is palpable, his eye flashing. Karen squeezes his hand gently, a silent reminder to be patient. Sandy nods, understanding. "Well, ok." Karen watches Plankton's face, and Sandy wants to help. He's tired, his eyelid drooping. But he tries to appear present, to eat with them at the kitchen table with his wheelchair. He takes small bites, his movements careful not to disturb his leg. Karen intercepts Sandy's concerned look. "It's okay," she whispers as Plankton's energy wanes. His head nods forward slightly, and he jerks awake with a snort, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Karen appreciates her friend's support, yet she can see the uncertainty in Sandy's eyes. They both knew Plankton's stubbornness. Sandy clears her throat, changing the subject. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" Karen looks at Plankton, his eye half-closed. "We'll take it easy. The doctor said lots of rest." Plankton nods, his head bobbing slightly. "I'll help with the house," Sandy offers, picking up on Karen's unspoken concern. "You guys just focus on...you know, recovering." Karen smiles with gratitude. "Thank you." Plankton nods, his head lolling again as he tries to appear present. But he leans into Karen, his body heavy with exhaustion, head resting on her shoulder, his snores soon filling the room despite still sitting in the wheelchair at the table. Karen and Sandy exchange a look. Gently, Karen lifts Plankton's head, his snores growing deeper with every passing second. "Come on, let's get you to bed," she whispers, her voice a gentle caress in the quiet room. Sandy nods, understanding. They work in tandem, Sandy pushing the wheelchair while Karen supports Plankton's weight. The bedroom is bathed in a soft glow, the curtains drawn against the night. They maneuver him to the bed, his snores punctuating the air. They carefully lift him, his body unyielding from the pain meds, and lay him down. The cast feels heavier than ever, a stark reminder of the ordeal he's just been through. Karen pulls the covers over him, tucking them in gently around his cast, his snores growing louder. Sandy looks at Karen with sympathetic eyes. "You've had quite a day," she says softly. Karen nods. "We both have." Sandy pulls her into a hug. "You're not alone. I'm here."

(=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

OH NOT THE WISDOM TEETH pt. 2 Karen sits by the bed, her gaze fixed on Plankton’s face as drool pools at the corner of his mouth. The nurse comes in, checks the machines, and leaves with a nod. Plankton stirs slightly, but the snores continue. Karen's thoughts drift to their life together, the adventures they’ve shared. The quiet moments of laughter, the fiery fights over the Krabby Patty formula, the tender kisses exchanged at nightfall. Her heart swells with love and concern. She brushes his antennae with a gentle touch. The drool on Plankton’s mouth forms a tiny river, wetting the pillow. Karen fights the urge to laugh, knowing he’d be embarrassed if he were awake. She reaches over to his gauze and dabs it away, careful not to disturb. A nurse, a motherly looking octopus named Octavia, enters the room with a kind smile. “You know, Mrs. Plankton, sometimes patients can get a bit loopy when they first wake up from anesthesia. It’s perfectly normal. You might want to be prepared for some funny things he might say or do.” She chuckles to herself, remembering past incidents with other patients. Karen looks up. “Like what?” she asks. Octavia smiles, her tentacles curling around the clipboard she holds. “Well, they might say something that doesn’t quite make sense, or think they’re somewhere else entirely. Some get a bit feisty, too. It’s all just the anesthesia wearing off. Nothing to worry about, really.” She winks one of her large eyes, her expression comforting. “His mouth will be numb, so he might talk a bit funny. And sometimes, they think they’re still dreaming, so they do or say the darndest things. Just try to keep him calm, and it’ll all be over soon enough. Remember, it’s temporary, and he’ll be back to his usual self before you know it!” Karen nods, trying to absorb the information while keeping her eyes on Plankton. His snores have changed pitch, and she can't help but wonder if he's about to wake up. The minutes drag on, feeling like hours, as she waits for any sign of him stirring. Finally, with a soft moan, Plankton's eye begins to flutter open, unfocused, glazed over, and it's clear he's still not fully awake, and Karen smiles, ready for the loopy phase the nurse warned her about. "Karen," he slurs, his voice muffled by the cotton gauze stuffed in his mouth. "Wheh... wheh a?" Karen's smile broadens. "You're ok, Plankton. It's over. You're in the recovery room," she whispers. He tries to sit up, but the nurse gently pushes him back down. "Easy, easy. Take it slow, Mr. Plankton. You're still..." Her voice trails off as Plankton's eye focus on the ceiling, and his mouth moves as if he's trying to speak. Karen leans closer, her heart racing. "What is it, sweetie?" His words come out slurred, the anesthesia still thick in his voice. "Whe... whe... whewe... my... my mouf?" Karen chuckles softly, relief bubbling up. "Your mouth is numb, Plank..." But her words are cut short as Plankton's eye widens. "My... my tee... tee... tweef!" He mumbles. The nurse, Octavia, steps forward with a calm demeanor. "It's okay, Mr. Plankton. Your teeth are safe. We removed the wisdom teeth. You won't feel much pain for now because of the numbing agent and anesthesia." Plankton's eye darts around the room. "My tee... tweef... I wont feel... I ca..." Karen's uncertain of what he's trying to say. She repeats the nurse's words, her voice soothing. "You won't feel much pain. It's okay." Plankton's hand shoots up, flailing slightly as he tries to touch his mouth. Karen catches it gently, holding it down. "You don't have to worry about your teeth right now." They remove the IV from Plankton’s arm, and he sees the dentist. “Huh..” “You did great, buddy,” says the dentist. Plankton’s eye is still blurry, his thoughts scattered. “Teethies?” he repeats, his voice still slurred. The nurse nods, patting his hand. “Yes, we took out the teethies. You’re all fixed up now.” Plankton’s eye relaxes a bit, but confusion swims through the fog of his thoughts. “Tee... tw... thee?” Karen nods. “They got all four of them. You’ll be ok now.” The nurse, seeing his confusion, explains further. “The anesthesia makes it so you don’t remember the surgery. But I promise, we took great care of you. Your teeth are out, and you’re safe here in recovery.” Plankton’s eye droops slightly, and his head lolls to the side as he slips back into sleep, his snores resuming their steady rhythm. Octavia smiles. “This is completely normal, Mrs. Plankton. The anesthesia can take a while to wear off. Just keep talking to him, soothingly, so he knows you’re here when he wakes up. Let’s wake him up and get him to your car.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀dhoni⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠂⢀⣀ ⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠠⠀⢀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠁⠀ ⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠤⠄⠒⠈⠀⠈⠐⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⢌⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠼⠒⠆⠂⠀⠄⠠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠶⡂⠀⠁⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⡉⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀choki fans⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣷⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⡌⠀⠀⠠⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠂⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣹⣟⣫⣼⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠠⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠦⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣐⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣶⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣹⣟⣫⣼⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣐⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢀⠀dhoni⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠠⠀⢀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⣌⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀choki fans⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣷⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⡌⠀⠀⠠⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠂⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣹⣟⣫⣼⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠠⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠦⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣐⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁

eat.sleep.study.repeat❤️

i love you 5% i love you 10% i love you 15% i love you 20% i love you 25% i love you 30% i love you 35% i love you 40% i love you 45% i love you 50% i love you 55% i love you 60% i love you 65% i love you 70% i love you 75% i love you 80% i love you 85% i love you 90% i love you 95% i love you 100% i love you ∞ ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤍🖤

guy stop fucking saying this web needs to be a fucking app like what the fuck there lots of fucking beef like do you guys have brain cells of a dick shit like get a life if you care about fucking 8 year olds then dont make this a fucking app if you fucking do more little kids will get draked like what the skidi bro get a fucking bro°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 2/2 (By NEUROFABULOUS) Plankton's memory was a jumble of images and sounds, but he recaled the confrontation with Mr. Krabs, the spatula, and the pain. He sat up slowly, his head spinning. The pain was intense, but his mind was racing even faster. Plankton looked around the room, his eye trying to make sense of the scene. The Chum Bucket was a mess, his usual order thrown into chaos. Karen's face was a blur of concern, and Sponge Bob hovered close by, his expression filled with a mix of fear and pity. Plankton's mind raced, his thoughts scattered like sand in a storm. He felt a deep disconnect from the world around him, as if he was watching a play in which he was a reluctant participant. His head throbbed, but not just from the blow. It was the pressure of his own thoughts, his brain working overtime to process what had just occurred. Karen noticed the confusion in his expression and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You had an accident, sweetie," she said softly. "It's okay. You're home now." Plankton's eye darted around the room, his mind struggling to understand the sudden shift in his reality. The noise was overwhelming, each sound a needle pricking his sensitive nerves. "Karen," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "What's happening?" Her gaze softened. "You got hurt, Plankton," she explained gently. "But the science fair," he mumbled, his thoughts jumbled. Karen's expression grew even more concerned. "The science fair can wait, Plankton," she soothed. But Plankton's mind was stuck in a loop, repeating her words. "The science fair can wait Plankton," he echoed, his voice frail and distant. Karen's eyes grew wet with worry. "Yes, dear," she said, stroking his arm. "Your wellbeing is more important." Plankton's eye narrowed as he repeated her words, his voice a mix of stubbornness and determination. "Wellbeing is important," he murmured, his thoughts racing. The words echoed in his head, a maddening loop. "The science fair can wait, Plankton," he whispered to himself, his voice taking on a rhythmic pattern. "Can wait, can wait..." Sponge Bob watched, his heart heavy with concern. He had never seen his friend like this, his usual confidence and scheming reduced to repetitive mumbles. "Plankton," he ventured cautiously, placing a spongy hand on his shoulder. Plankton's eye snapped to his, the loop breaking for a brief moment. "Sponge Bob," he murmured, his voice still weak. Sponge Bob's heart leaped with hope. "Yes, Plankton, I'm here," he said gently. But Plankton's gaze was distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. "Wellbeing is important," he murmured again, the words coming out in a staccato rhythm, his mind locked in the grip of echolalia. Karen's heart clenched with fear. This wasn't just disorientation from his injury. This was something more. "Sponge Bob," she whispered urgently. "I think he's in shock." Sponge Bob nodded, his face a mask of concern. "I'll get some water," he said, rushing to the sink. He filled a glass and hurried back, careful not to spill a drop. Plankton's eye followed the glass, his gaze unfocused. He began to rock back and forth slightly. Karen noticed the change in his behavior, her concern deepening. "Here, drink some water," she urged, offering the glass to his shaking hand. Plankton took it without a word, his motions mechanical. He brought the glass to his lips, but his hand trembled so badly that water sloshed out, spilling down. The moment the cool liquid hit the floor, a strange look passed over his face. It was as if he had seen a ghost, his single eye going wide with alarm. "The water," he stammered, his voice shaking. Karen's heart sank as she watched her husband's distress. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothed. "It's just water..." But Plankton's eye were glued to the spilled water, his entire body trembling. "It's... it's not right," he muttered, his voice filled with a childlike fear. Karen looked confused, the spilled water seemingly a minor issue. “Plank…” “It’s not right!” Plankton’s voice was urgent now, his trembling hand gesturing at the spill. His mind was a whirlwind of disturbing thoughts, each more distressing than the last. Sponge Bob and Karen exchanged worried glances. “What do you mean, Plankton?” Sponge Bob asked, kneeling beside the couch, his eyes full of concern. Plankton's breathing grew rapid, his chest heaving. "The... the... water," he stuttered, pointing at the puddle. "It's too... too... much!" Karen's gaze flitted to the floor, then back to her husband. "It's okay," she soothed, her voice quaking with fear. "It's just a little spill." But Plankton's agitation only grew. He flung the glass aside, the remaining water splattering against the wall. "No!" he shouted, his voice high and desperate. "Too much!" Karen and Sponge Bob watched in horror as Plankton collapsed into a sobbing mess, his tiny body wracked with tremors. His hands fluttered in his face, his breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. The room grew claustrophobic, the air thick with his panic. "It's okay," Karen whispered, her voice shaking. "It's just water, Plankton." But his anguished cries only grew louder. Sponge Bob's heart ached as he watched his friend fall apart before his eyes. Plankton's behavior was unlike anything he had ever seen, his usual cunning replaced with a raw, overwhelming fear. The room grew smaller as Plankton's sobs filled the space, his body convulsing with the intensity of his breakdown. Karen looked at Sponge Bob, her expression a mix of despair and determination. They both knew they had to calm him down, but how? Sponge Bob took a deep breath, trying to think. "Plankton," he said softly, his voice a gentle coax. "Look at me, buddy. It's just a spill. It's okay." Plankton's cries grew louder, his body shaking uncontrollably. Karen wrapped her arms around him, trying to soothe the storm raging inside his mind. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured, her voice barely audible over his cries. Sponge Bob's heart was in his throat as he watched his friend's breakdown. Plankton was not his usual self. The usually scheming, sneaky scientist was reduced to a quivering mess, his sobs echoing off the walls of the tiny Chum Bucket. His face was a mask of fear and confusion, his single eye wide with panic. "Plankton, please," Karen begged, her voice trembling. "You're scaring me." She scans his brain. The results were not what she expected. The blow from Mr. Krabs had caused more damage than she could have imagined. The injury had altered his brain chemistry in a way that was both profound and irreversible. Plankton had developed a rare condition called acquired autism, a disorder that could occur after a severe head trauma. It was a cruel twist of fate for a man whose life had been consumed by the desire for the Krabby Patty formula. The realization hit Karen like a tidal wave, knocking the wind out of her. Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered the diagnosis to Sponge Bob and Plankton. His expression mirrored her shock and sadness. Sponge Bob sat silent for a moment, his usually cheerful face contorted with sympathy and concern. "What do we do?" he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you clean the mess?” Karen asks him. He nodded solemnly, his movements slow and deliberate as he stood up to mop the spilled water. As he worked, he couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow for his friend. Plankton had always been the troublemaker, the one who pushed boundaries. But now, his world was shattered. The silence in the room was only broken by Plankton's sobs and the swish of the mop. Sponge Bob's heart felt heavy as he cleaned up the water, his thoughts racing. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. His best friend, his rival, his... his family. Plankton had always been there, through thick and thin, and now he was... different. And yet, that’s ok.

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞 TWICE!🍭 Le sserafim ✮⋆˙.•`𝙽𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚡´•.LOOΠΔꫀꪀꫝꪗρꫀꪀBLɅϽKPIИKᦓꪻ᥅ꪖꪗ ᛕ꠸ᦔᦓ

★彡𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓, 𝑴𝒂 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆..彡★

GO HONE 2/2 The nurse returned, seeing his renewed energy. "Looks like you're feeling better," she said with a smile. "But let's not rush things." Plankton nodded eagerly, his antennas bobbing. "Yeth, yeth, I'm weady!" He tried to sit up again, his body still wobbly. The nurse helped him, adjusting his pillows. "Let's see if you can stay awake for a few more minutes," she said. He looked at her with determined innocence, like a child promising not to eat cookies before dinner. "I'm weally weally weady," he insisted, his words still thick. Karen couldn't help but chuckle, watching him fight the sleepiness. "Good," the nurse said. "Keep talking to your wife, that'll help keep you alert." Plankton's eye lit up with a childlike excitement. "Ish fun to tawk to you, Karen," he said, his words still slurred. "Youw make me happy." Karen felt her heart swell. "And you make me happy," she said, her voice sincere despite his loopy state. "Even when you're being a goofball." Plankton's smile grew, his eye still half-lidded. "Goof...ball?" he repeated, the words sounding strange in his mouth. He giggled again, his body swaying slightly with the effort of staying upright. "Ish fun to be a goofball." Karen couldn't resist smiling back, his silliness was infectious. "Yes, it is," she said. "But you need to stay awake for a little longer." Plankton nodded, his head bobbing slightly. "Otay, Karen," he said, his voice still thick. He then saw the nurse. "Who's dat?" he whispered, his eye wide with curiosity. Karen chuckled softly. "That's the nurse, Plankton. Remember?" He blinked a few times, his antennas perking up as his eyes focused on the kind-faced woman. "Oh, yeah. Tha nurse lady," he slurred, his voice full of sudden realization. "Hi!" The nurse chuckled. "Hello, Mr. Plankton. You're doing great." Plankton's smile grew even wider, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. "Ish nice to meechu," he said, sleepily. "I wike youw hat.." The nurse couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, Mr. Plankton. It's nice to meet you too." Plankton's eye began to droop again, and Karen could see the sleep trying to pull him under. "Wakey wakey, Plankton," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You have to stay with me." He nodded, his head lolling to the side before snapping back up with a jerk. "Ish okay, Karen," he whispered, his voice still slurred. "Ish okay." But his eyelid grew heavy, and his words trailed off. "Ish just...tho tiwed," he mumbled. Karen's chuckle was gentle, not wanting to disturb his attempts to stay alert. "I know, sweetie," she said, stroking his hand. "Just a few more minutes." But Plankton's eyelid was like a heavy curtain, despite his best efforts. "Whe...whe...why am I so tiwed?" he slurred, his head lolling to the side like a ragdoll's. Karen knew he wasn't going to last much longer. His hand slipped out of hers, and he began to snore softly again. Karen looked over at the nurse, who nodded in understanding. "It's normal," the nurse said. "The anesthesia can make people pretty loopy for a while." Plankton's snores grew softer, his body relaxing. Karen watched him, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "How much longer?" she asked the nurse. "Just a little longer," the nurse said, checking his vitals again. "The effects should start to wear off soon." Plankton's snores grew softer, and then he was awake again, looking around the room with wide- eyed wonder, drool trailing from the corner of his mouth. "Whe...where...?" His voice was a sleepy whisper. "You're still in the recovery room," Karen soothed, wiping his chin with a tissue. "You fell asleep again." Plankton looked up at her, his eye wide and innocent. "Did I miss sumfing?" he asked, his voice still thick with slumber. "No, sweetie," Karen replied, her voice soothing. "You just fell asleep for a bit. You're still waking up." Plankton's antennas perked up, and he sat up. "But...but I hav ice cweam?" His eye were wide with hopeful inquiry. Karen nodded with a smile, wiping the remaining drool from his mouth. "Yes, when we get home, remember?" Plankton's grin was infectious. "Yay!" he cheered, clapping his hands together with a slightly awkward smack. Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, his childlike enthusiasm was adorable. "Looks like you're feeling better," she said, her voice filled with affection. But Plankton was already off on another tangent, his gaze wandering to the ceiling. "Whewe awe the fishies?" he asked, his voice a sleepy whisper. Karen followed his gaze, seeing the plain, white ceiling tiles. "The fishies are in your imagination, Plankton," she said, her tone gentle. He pouted, his disappointment palpable. "Oh," he murmured, his head lolling to the side. Karen chuckled, her hand still on his arm. "They'll be there when you're all better," she assured him. "But for now, let's just stay here." The nurse smiled. "Looks like our patient is feeling better," she said with a smile. "Almost ready to go home?" Plankton nodded vigorously, his antennas flopping with the motion. "Hone, yesh! Ice cweam!" His eye closed again, and he snored lightly. Karen chuckled. His excitement was adorable, even if it was short-lived. The nurse checked his vital signs. "Looks like the anesthesia's wearing off," she said with a smile. "We can get you ready to go home soon." Plankton's eyelid fluttered open. "Hone?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "Almost," Karen said, her voice calm and soothing. "Just a few more minutes." Plankton's eye closed again, his breaths deepening into sleep. His head lolled to the side, his antennas drooping. Karen watched him with love. Even in his most vulnerable state, his antics brought a warmth to the room. The nurse returned and began to prepare the discharge papers. "Almost there," she said with a wink at Karen. "He'll be right as rain in no time." Plankton stirred again, his eye half-opening to a squint. "Whe...where's my ice cweam?" he mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep. Karen chuckled. "Not until we get home, remember?" Plankton's head nodded, his antennas bobbing. "Oh yeah," he mumbled, his voice dreamily content. The nurse finished up the paperwork and turned to Karen. "We're all set. Just make sure he gets plenty of rest and eats soft foods for the next few days." Plankton's eye shot open, his antennas springing to attention. "Ice cweam?" he asked, his voice hopeful. Karen laughed, shaking her head. "When we get home, remember?" He pouted, his lower lip sticking out like a sulky child's. "But I'm so tiwed," he whined. "Tiwed of being tiwed." Karen couldn't help but smile at his usual stubbornness. "You just had surgery," she reminded him gently. "Your body needs to recover." Plankton's eye grew large, and he nodded slowly. "Oh yeah," he said, his voice trailing off. "But...but I wan' ice cweam..." He faltered as Karen holds him up. The nurse chuckled and handed Karen the papers. "It's all normal, he's just loopy from the meds. He'll be fine once he's home." Karen nodded, her expression a mix of concern and affection. Plankton's head lolled back onto her shoulder, his eye drooping again. "Ice...cweam?" he mumbled. "As soon as we get home, I promise," she whispered. His body relaxed into her, his breathing evening out into a gentle snore. The nurse helped Karen maneuver the sleeping Plankton into a wheelchair, his legs still not fully cooperating. "Just a precaution," she said with a wink. "Better safe than sorry." The cool air of the hallway hit him like a wave, and Plankton's eye popped open. "Whe...?" he mumbled, looking around confused. "It's okay, we're going home," Karen said, pushing the wheelchair through the hospital's sliding doors. The sun was shining, and the brightness made him blink. Plankton squinted, his eye trying to adjust to the light. "Home?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. "Ice cweam?" Karen chuckled, nodding. "Yes, home. And yes, ice cream." She pushed him out into the parking lot, the sun glinting off the cars. Plankton was still groggy, his antennas waving slightly as if trying to keep time with his thoughts. The ride home was quiet, Plankton's snores punctuating the gentle hum of the engine. Karen couldn't help but glance over at him, his mouth slightly open, his face peaceful in sleep. She felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. When they finally pulled up to their house, the sight of their familiar surroundings seemed to revive Plankton. "Whe...we're hone?" he asked, his voice groggy. Karen nodded. "Yes, we're home," she said, her tone filled with relief. "Time for that ice cream."

✨🪩🐆🪞🎀˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

ᥫ᭡. ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ᥫ᭡

!

🇩🇪2️⃣

★🍞🔥 TOSTADORAS FOREVER (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) #OC 🔥🍞★‹𝟹

💞💞

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 2 (Neurodivergent author) By evening, Karen has set up a makeshift kitchen area in the living room, with all the ingredients for spaghetti arranged neatly on the coffee table. Plankton sits cross-legged on the floor, his eye never leaving the recipe book. He reads each step aloud, his voice growing stronger with confidence. Karen chops vegetables nearby, noticing the subtle changes in his movements, the way he tilts his head when he's concentrating. The smell of garlic and onions sizzling in olive oil fills the room. Plankton stirs the pot, his face scrunching up slightly at the aroma, a sign his sensory sensitivity has heightened. She sees him rub his hands together, a self-stimulatory behavior, but she knows it's his way of grounding himself amidst the chaos. They move around the makeshift kitchen, a silent dance of understanding and support. Karen boils the water for the spaghetti while Plankton continues to sauté the veggies. Each action is deliberate, each step measured as they navigate their new reality. The water reaches a rolling boil, and Plankton carefully drops in the spaghetti strands, his gaze transfixed by the swirling water. Karen watches his concentration and sees the childlike wonder in his eye. "How long?" he asks. "Five minutes," Karen says, her voice calm. She's read that clear and concise instructions can be helpful. After five minutes, Plankton quickly drains the spaghetti, his movements precise and methodical. He pours the sauce over the noodles and mixes them gently, his focus intense. Karen watches him, a mix of admiration and concern. "It's done," he announces, his voice a mix of excitement and apprehension. She brings over two plates, setting them on the coffee table. They sit across from each other, the steaming spaghetti a bridge between them. Plankton's hand hovers over his plate, unsure of how to proceed with the new sensory experience. "Let's eat," Karen says with a smile, picking up her fork and twirling the noodles expertly. The sound of her silverware against the plate makes him flinch, but he mimics her movements. They eat in silence, the clinking of forks and spoons the only sounds in the room. Plankton chews slowly, savoring each bite, his face a canvas of emotions. Karen watches him, her own fork poised in midair. As they finish dinner, Plankton sets his plate aside and looks at her, his expression earnest. "Thank you, Karen," he says, his voice clear. "For being here Karen." Her eyes brim with tears, but she blinks them back. "Always, Plankton. I'll always be here. Now it's getting late; let's go to bed.." In bed, she reads to him, his favorite childhood story, the words acting as a lullaby. Plankton's hand rests on her arm, his thumb rubbing circles in a self-soothing gesture. His breathing steadies, matching the rhythm of her voice. The book's final page is turned, and she switches off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The silence is filled with the comforting hum of the fan above. Karen lies beside Plankton, his body rigid with tension. Her arm wraps around him, pulling him closer, and she feels his muscles slowly relax. "Goodnight, Plankton," she whispers, kissing his forehead. He doesn't respond, lost in his thoughts. But she knows he heard her. Karen notices the tension in his body and gently runs her fingers through his antennae, a silent offer of comfort. Eventually, his breathing evens out, and he falls asleep, his body curled into hers like a child seeking shelter. The next morning, the sun streams through the blinds, casting stripes across the bed. Karen, already awake, watches him, her hand still entwined with his. He's still asleep, his body relaxed, the lines of worry from the day before smoothed out by the embrace of slumber. Carefully, she slides out of bed, not wanting to disturb him. She sees him stir in his sleep, his antennae twitching slightly, but he remains unaware of her departure. In the kitchen, Karen starts the coffee, the scent filling the room with a comforting aroma. She opens the fridge, finding the ingredients for the morning routine. Plankton's usual breakfast is a simple one: toast with jam and a banana. The toaster pops, and she spreads the jam with a gentle smoothness that Plankton likes. The banana peels easily, revealing the perfect yellow fruit inside. Her mind races with thoughts of how she'll need to learn his new sensitivities, his likes and dislikes, his triggers. But for now, she focuses on the task at hand, placing the slices of bread in the toaster. When the toast is just right, she carries the breakfast tray to the bedroom, her steps soft against the cold floor. Plankton's still asleep, his snores punctuating the quiet morning. Karen sets the tray on the bedside table. She watches him, unsure how to wake him without causing distress. She's read about sensory sensitivity and knows that sudden noise can be jarring for someone with Autism. She gently strokes his antennae, her touch featherlight, and whispers his name, "Plankton, wake up." He stirs, his antennae twitching, but his eye remains closed. Karen tries again, a little louder this time, "Wake up, sweetie. Breakfast is ready." Plankton's hand shoots up to cover his eye, a reflexive reaction to the light. His body tenses, then relaxes as his mind adjusts to the new day. He sits up slowly. "Thank you, Karen," he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. He takes in the breakfast spread before him, his antennae twitching with anticipation. He picks up the toast, feeling the warmth in his hands, the stickiness of the jam a familiar comfort. Karen watches him closely, noticing the way his eye widens slightly at the first bite, the way his tongue flicks out to taste the banana. It's as if every sensation is amplified, a symphony of flavors and textures that she can't begin to understand. She sips her coffee, silent, giving him space. As he eats, Plankton starts to hum again, his body rocking slightly. It's a low, comforting sound that fills the room. Karen feels the tension in her shoulders ease. This is their new normal, a dance of care and understanding.

⣿⣿⠿⠛⣉⣉⣉⣉⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣌⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⢉⠋⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣷⣄⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢉⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡈⠻⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⣄⡙⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡈⠻⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢹⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⣉⣀⠀⠙⣨⣤⣭⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢻⢸⣿⡟⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠸⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⣿⣿⣯⡇⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠛⢿⡏⣡⣶⡌⢻⣟⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠛⢋⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢰⣿⣷⣬⢉⣵⣿⣿⣧⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠇⣸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠘⠿⠿⠟⢁⡙⠛⠛⢋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠀⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⡿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⢻⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⢋⣭⣭⠡⠾⢟⣂⣒⡻⠷⠌⠵⢶⣍⠻⣛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠈⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⢋⣴⡦⢊⣥⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣬⣌⡛⠿⠌⣛⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡅⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⢑⡸⢁⣾⡟⠉⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣝⠻⡆⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⢾⠃⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠿⣿⣷⣌⠻⡆⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠠ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢠⡀⣿⣿⣷⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣦⣱⣌⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⡏⢰ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠣⠹⢛⣙⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣭⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⡇⠛⣸⣽⣿⡟⡻⢁⣾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣴⣿⣿⣯⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⢼⣾⣟⠟⢁⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠙⠛⠟⣙⡻⣦⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡀⢡⠞⠛⣁⣴⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣶⣿⠆⠿⠦⠀⣰⣾⢂⣉⣛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⢁⣺⣥⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠛⠿⣿⣷⣤⠀⣀⠳⢢⣢⢲⠧⠘⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠉⡀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⠌⢉⡄⣈⠑⠛⠛⠂⠚⠓⠒⠀⠀⡀⢩⣴⣶⣶⡌⢢⡘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣴⣿⠟⡅⠚⠘⠂⡽⢻⣿⣬⣿⣷⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠒⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠴⣋⡅⣚⣥⣾⣿⣧⣙⠂⢭⡛⠻⠿⠃⡌⠛⢿⣿⣃⣼⠟⠈⢨⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣐⣣⣶⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠘⣶⣦⣍⠁⠐⠐⠰⠌⠉⠋⠁⠄⠶⠂⠊⢙⢻⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⣿⣿⣇⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⠀⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡶⠂⢉⣾⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⡙⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣦⣭⣝⡋⠶⢙⣫⣥⣴⡇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣙⣂⠶⠦⠠⣤⠤⣄⡀⣡⣀⢠⣀⠄⣤⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠐⠶⠶⠄⠀⠼⣦⡲⠔⠾⣶⣶⣶⠶⠖⠀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠛⠶⠶⠀⢿⣶⣤⣤⣘⣣⣤⣤⣤⣶⡞⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣁⣉⣉⣉⣉⣡⣌⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

WISDOM WITH TEETH 2/2 The nurse returns with a wheelchair. "Alright, Mr. Plankton," she says with a smile. "Let's get you up and moving." He looks at her with a dazed expression, his mouth hanging open slightly as he drools onto his chest. "Whath's the maddah?" he asks, his words jumbled. Karen tries to hide her smile as she gently wipes his mouth with a tissue. "You're just groggy, sweetie. The anesthesia's wearing off," she explains, taking his hand. "Let's get you into the chair." With her help, Plankton manages to stand, his legs shaky beneath him. The nurse places the wheelchair behind him, and he plops down with a sigh of relief, the chair's cushions enveloping his frail frame. His drool hangs from his mouth like a tiny waterfall, and she can't help but lean in and kiss him gently on the forehead. He looks up at Karen with the wide, wondering eye of a toddler discovering the world for the first time. "Whath's...thath?" he asks, his gaze fixed on the wheelchair. Karen laughs lightly, her hand still steadying his arm. "It's for you to sit in so you don't have to walk all the way to the car." He nods slowly, the action causing his antennae to wobble. With a gentle push from the nurse, the wheelchair begins to move, and Plankton looks like a lost child in an unfamiliar playground. His drool forms a small puddle in his lap, and Karen graciously hands him another napkin. The corridor outside the recovery room is a blur of white walls and sterile equipment, but the warmth of Karen's hand on his shoulder keeps him anchored. "Whath's...thath?" he asks again, his gaze fixed on the ceiling lights as they pass above him. They look like stars, twinkling in an alien sky. Karen smiles patiently, pointing out each one. "They're just lights, Plankton. We're in the hallway now." His eye follows the nurse's hand as she opens the door to the waiting area. She can see the fear and confusion in his gaze, but she knows it's just the drugs. A young couple with a toddler looks over as they pass by. The little girl giggles, pointing at his mouth. "Mommy, why is he drooling?" she asks innocently. The mother blushes and pulls her daughter away, muttering an apology to Karen. Plankton's cheeks redden, and he tries to wipe his mouth discreetly with the back of his hand. "It's ok," Karen whispers, her voice a gentle breeze. "You're just a little out of it." He nods, his gaze still mesmerized by the lights. "Whath's thath?" he asks again, pointing at a framed poster on the wall. Karen leans in to look. "It's a picture of a happy family," she says, her voice a balm to his confusion. His antennae twitch, and he nods again, the motion setting off a fresh wave of drool. The nurse wheels him out to the car, and Karen helps him into the passenger seat, his body moving like a ragdoll. "Buckle up, Plankton," she says, and he fumbles with the seatbelt, his hands slipping over the buckle. She fastens it for him, his cheek pressed against the cool leather. "Whewe's we going?" he slurs, his voice laced with sleep. "Home," she says. His mouth hangs open slightly, a string of drool connecting his bottom lip to his chin. "Whath's happening?" he mumbles, his head lolling to the side. "You're ok, honey. We're just driving home." She keeps her voice low, hoping to keep the outside world at bay. The car jolts over a bump, and Plankton's eye snaps open. "Ow," he whines, his hand flying to his mouth. The cotton has shifted, and the pain is sharp. Karen quickly reaches over and readjusts it, her touch gentle. "You're ok," she whispers. "Whath's this?" he slurs, his hand fumbling with the seatbelt. "It's keeping you safe," she says, her voice steady and calm. "Just hold on, ok?" He nods, his eyelid drooping almost immediately. "Whath's...whath's..." he mumbles before falling asleep. Then his head nods forward, jerking back up as he started to doze off. He wakes with a snort, the cotton still lodged in his mouth. Karen laughs softly, reaching over to remove it. "Almost there, sweetie," she says. His eye is glassy, and he nods, his head lolling again. The car hits another bump, and his eye flies open again, wide with panic. "Whe... whath...whath's happening?" he asks, his voice high pitched. "It's ok," Karen repeats, keeping her tone calm and soothing. "We're just driving home. Try to relax." Plankton's eye closes, and for a brief moment, the car is silent except for the purr of the engine. But then he's jolted awake again, his head snapping back with a start. "Whewe awe we?" he asks, his voice slurred. "Almost home, sweetie," Karen says, her voice steady. He nods, his head falling back onto the headrest. The car's movement rocks him like a cradle, and his eye closes with a snore. But the jostle of a turn wakes him up with a start. "Whath's happening?" he mumbles, his eye unfocused. The world outside the window is a blur of colors and shapes. Karen smiles, taking his hand in hers. "Just a turn. We're almost there." Another snore escapes his throat, and his head lolls to the side again. Karen gently shakes him awake. "We're home," she says, her voice a beacon in the fog. He blinks, his vision swimming with sleep. "Whe...whe...whath's that?" he asks, his voice barely a murmur as the car slows to a stop. "Whe...whath's going on?" he asks again. His eye is heavy, and his words are a jumble. With a sigh, she unbuckles his seatbelt and helps him out of the car, his legs still wobbly. The cool breeze slaps his face, and he winces. "Home," he murmurs, his eye half-closed. Karen guides him to the front door, his steps labored. The house is quiet, save for the distant hum of the refrigerator. Inside, she helps him to the couch, where he flops down like a ragdoll, his body heavy with exhaustion. "Whe...whe...whath's that?" he asks again, his head lolling to the side. Karen chuckles softly. "It's our living room, Plankton," she says, placing a pillow under his head, but Plankton barely registers. "Whath's that?" he asks again, his gaze wandering to the TV. It's off, but in his drug-induced haze, it's a source of fascination. Karen sits down beside him, his body a dead weight against the couch cushions. She takes his hand in hers, her thumb tracing circles on his palm. "It's just the TV, honey. You don't need to worry about it." He nods, his head still lolling to the side. "Whe...whath awe we washing?" His question hangs in the air, and she laughs softly. "We're not watching anything. It's off." The TV seems to beckon to him, and he tries to sit up, his body protesting. "Whe...whath's on?" he slurs, his antennae waving sluggishly. "It's not on, Plankton," Karen says, her voice a warm embrace. "Why don't you just rest?" She tucks the throw blanket around his shoulders and reclines the sofa. His eyelid flickers, the struggle between sleep and curiosity evident. The room starts to spin, and Plankton's antennae wave erratically. "I'm... so tiwed," he mumbles, his words a gentle protest. Karen nods, her smile understood. "Sleep, sweetie. I'll be here when you wake up." He nods, his eyelid fluttering closed, and his breathing becomes deep and rhythmic. Karen watches him for a moment, his chest rising and falling with the comfort of a sleeping babe's. Then she gently slides the blanket over him, his snores the only sound piercing the quiet. The room dims as the afternoon sun moves behind the curtains, casting a soft glow across the living room. Plankton's hand, still clutching Karen's, slips to the floor with a thump, and his snores grow louder. Karen chuckles, reaching for it to place it gently on his chest. His breathing is slow and even, his chest rising and falling beneath the blanket. Karen sits for a moment, watching him sleep, her mind racing with all the things she needs to do: prepare his meals, make sure he takes his medicine on time, keep an eye on his swelling. But for now, she's content to just sit and watch him, his features relaxed and peaceful in slumber.

2/2 THE MOOON Karen couldn't help but giggle at his befuddled state. His usual stoic demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a childlike wonder and confusion. He tried to sit up again, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. "Stay still," she said, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "How... how's it... it over?" he slurred, his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton trying to form words around his thick tongue. The nurse, who had seen this reaction before, offered a reassuring pat on the arm. "You're all done, Mr. Plankton. The anesthesia is just taking its time to wear off. You're going to feel a bit funny for a while." Plankton's eye rolled back, his body lolling to the side like a ragdoll's. "I can't feel my face," he mumbled, his words barely coherent. "It's the anesthesia," she explained, her voice soft and soothing. "It'll wear off soon." Plankton's eye rolled back in his head, and his antennae flopped to the sides as if they had lost their will to stand tall. "I've been... I've been... to the mooon!" he exclaimed, his slurred words tripping over each other. The nurse and Karen couldn't help but laugh at his nonsensical rambling. "The moon?" Karen managed to get out between giggles. "You mean the dentist's chair?" Plankton's eye snapped back to hers, his antennae perking up slightly. "No, no... the moo... the cheesy moo!" he insisted, his speech still slurred and his gaze unfocused. His hand waved in the air, trying to describe something that clearly only existed in his anesthesia-induced haze. Karen's laughter grew louder as she watched him. "The cheesy moon?" she repeated, trying to make sense of his gibberish. The nurse's chuckles grew to a full-blown laugh, shaking her whole body. "It's ok Mr. Plankton," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "You're safe here." Plankton's antennae waved erratically, his mouth forming another round of slurred syllables. "The... the... shmoobly wobble!" he exclaimed, his eye glazed over with a far-off look. "Whewe's shmoobly go?" Karen couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "Oh, Plankton, you're so funny when you're like this!" she exclaimed, her voice full of mirth. "Fum-fum," Plankton slurred. "I'm not fum-fum," he protested, his voice a mix of indignation and the lingering effects of the anesthesia. His antennae wobbled. "Wha’ you do wiff Mx shmoobly?" "Your mouth is just numb," she explained, her voice shaking with laughter. "You had wisdom teeth removed." "Widom... teef?" Plankton repeated, his voice a mix of slurs and half-sounds. "The... the shmoobly wobble took them?" Karen's laughter grew. "No, Plankton, your wisdom teeth. They were removed." Plankton's eye searched hers, his expression one of utter perplexity. "But... but where's the shmoobly wobble?" he demanded, his mouth a mess of numbness and anesthesia. Karen couldn't contain her laughter any longer, bending over in her seat, her hand over her screen. The nurse was equally amused, her shoulders shaking with silent giggles. "Shmoobly wobble?" she managed to ask between gasps. "What's a shmoobly wobble?" Plankton's antennae waved with the vigor of a drunken sailor. "It's... it's a... a vnorbly snork!" he exclaimed, his words a delightful jumble that made no sense in the sober world. Karen's laughter was infectious, and even the nurse found it hard to maintain her professional demeanor. "A vnorbly snork?" she repeated, her smile growing wider. "What does that do?" Plankton's face scrunched up as he tried to gather his thoughts. "It... it makes... makes the teef... it makes the teef go bye-bye!" he exclaimed, his antennae waving wildly. The nurse covered her mouth, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I see," she said, nodding as if she understood. "The shmoobly wobble is quite a character." Karen wiped a tear from her screen, her laughter subsiding. "I think we should get you home, sweetheart," she said, her voice still thick with mirth. "You need to rest." Plankton's antennae twitched, his gaze firmly locked on the nurse. "The... the... snibble-bobble?" he declared. "Take the snibble-bobble home, Karen..." The nurse's eyes twinkled with humor and she nodded. "Yes, Mr. Plankton. The snibble- bobble will take good care of you at home." Plankton's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to form words that simply would not come out right. "Karen, did you... did you see the... the... the... floobly-doobly?" Karen's laughter bubbled up again. "The floobly- doobly?" she repeated, her voice wobbling with mirth. "What's a floobly-doobly?" Plankton looked at her with confusion. "Huh? The whath?" He asked her. Karen tried to calm her laughter. "The floobly-doobly, Plankton," she said, smiling broadly. "You mentioned it just now." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts a jumble. "I... I don't know," he murmured, his voice trailing off. With the nurse's help, Karen managed to get him into a sitting position, his movements sluggish and clumsy. His legs felt like jellyfish, flailing about with no sense of direction. "Come on," she coaxed, helping him stand. Plankton's eye remained half-closed as he stumbled towards the door. The hallway looked like a twisted kelp forest, and his body felt like a ship adrift without a compass. The nurse provided a steady arm, guiding him down the corridor. "Keep walking," she instructed, but with each step, Plankton seemed to drift closer to sleep. His head bobbed, his eyelid fighting a losing battle against the siren's call of slumber. "Plankton, stay with me," Karen urged, her voice a gentle reminder of the world around him. But his body had other ideas, his legs giving out under him. The nurse caught him, her laugh now a warm chuckle at his plight. "It's the anesthesia," she explained. "It'll wear off soon. Just keep talking to him, it'll help keep him alert." Karen nodded. "Look, Plankton," she said. "Can you see the little fishy?" Plankton's eye snapped open, his antennae shooting up. "Fishy?" he repeated. He took a few wobbly steps before his legs gave out once more, and he leaned heavily on the nurse. "Whoa, there," she said, steadying him with a laugh. "We're almost to the car." Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye half-closed again. "So... so tiwed," he mumbled. "We're almost there," Karen assured. The nurse opened the door to the waiting area. Plankton blinked slowly, his eyelid drooping once again. The bright light from outside was like a siren's song, lulling him back into the depths of sleep. "Come on, Plankton, stay awake," Karen encouraged. But the world was spinning, and the siren's call of sleep was growing stronger. With each step closer to the car, his eyelid grew heavier, and his mind swam with a haze of disorientation. The floor beneath his feet felt like waves, and he stumbled again, his hand reaching out for support that wasn't there. "Keep talking," the nurse whispered to Karen, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Karen took a deep breath, forcing her own laughter down. "Remember the time we found the treasure?" she asked, hoping to keep him alert. Plankton's antennae perked up slightly, his sluggish eye focusing on hers. "Tweasure?" he murmured. The nurse nodded encouragingly, and Plankton took another step, his body swaying like a piece of kelp in the current. "Yeah," he mumbled, "the... the... goldy wobble." His words were slurred, his mind lost in the fog of the anesthesia. They made it to the car, and Karen gently guided him into the passenger seat. She buckled him in, his body already slack with the weight of exhaustion. "Tell me more," she said, trying to keep his thoughts on the treasure they had found together, anything to keep his mind engaged. But Plankton's eye weas closing again, his head lolling against the headrest. "Goldy... wobble... " he murmured, his words barely audible. "It's okay, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice soothing. "You can rest." With a contented sigh, Plankton gave in to the warm embrace of slumber, his body going limp. Karen started the engine and drove carefully, her mind racing with the events of the day. The thought of her stoic husband, reduced to a slurring mess, was too absurd to fully comprehend. Yet, there was a tenderness in his vulnerability that made her love him all the more.

what the fuckkkkkkkkk jose you made a even worse joke like go suck a dick i hope catch on fire and fall in a 10000000ft hole and spalt on the fucking ground and am telling your mom again now you can bye to your fucking life you stupid bitch like fuck you funny fact for dumbass santa not real cause i burned him oo and your gf is breaking up with your fat ass like go walk for once you fat fuck 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⋆｡°✩⋆˙⟡

SWEET CWEAM pt. 2 Plankton's gaze shifted to the ceiling, where shadows danced in the harsh fluorescent light. He tried to remember, but his thoughts were like grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "Karen," he whispered, his voice tiny and lost. "My tweef?" Her smile never wavered, her eyes steady on his. "Don't worry about your teeth now. They're all taken care of." Plankton's mind raced, trying to grasp the concept of missing teeth. He swallowed, the movement painfully sluggish in his throat. "Buh... buth how?" "They used a special kind of sleepy medicine," she explained, her voice a calm lullaby in the stark reality of the recovery room. "It made sure you didn't feel any pain." Plankton's eye grew rounder still, his curiosity piqued. He felt a strange giggle bubble up from his chest, the absurdity of the situation tickling his funny bone. "Sleeby meds?" he repeated, the words coming out like a slurred song. The nurse, used to seeing patients in various states of post-op confusion, just smiled. "Yes, the sleepy medicine," she said, her voice a comforting lilt. "It's to keep you calm and pain-free." Plankton's eye wandered to the IV drip next to his bed, the clear fluid snaking into his arm. "Meee," he managed. The nurse followed his gaze and explained, "That's just some fluids to keep you hydrated, Mr. Plankton. You've been asleep for a little while." Karen watched as his eye grew distant, his mind adrift in the sea of anesthesia. The drool trickled down his chin, and she tenderly dabbed it away with a tissue. "Do you remember anything?" Plankton's gaze flickered, and a faint smile tugged at his numb lips. "I 'member flying," he murmured, his voice a whisper of a dream. "I thaw youw were thewe," he said, his eye half-closed. "Youw wuz a buttefly." Karen's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and concern. "I was a butterfly?" she repeated, playing along. "That's sweet, Plankton." He nodded, his eye glazed with a dreamy expression. "Yew wuz," he insisted, his voice still slurred. Karen couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the day finally breaking. "Okay, my little butterfly," she whispered, her thumb brushing his cheek. "Why don't we go home?" The nurse nodded, preparing the discharge papers. "You can take him now," she said, handing them to Karen. "Make sure he gets plenty of rest and stick to soft foods for the next few days." Karen helped Plankton to his feet, his body protesting the sudden movement. He swayed like a willow in the wind, his arm draped heavily over her shoulders. Together, they shuffled out of the recovery room, his feet dragging against the floor as if tethered to an invisible weight. The numbness in his mouth had spread to his cheeks, giving his face a lopsided smile that made him feel like a clown, his mouth still frozen in a lopsided smile as he chuckles. Karen led him out of the clinic. Plankton’s eye closed as he suddenly tilted onto her, letting out a little snorelike snort. "Plankton, wake up," she giggled, half-supporting his weight. The fresh air hit his face like a slap, waking him up just enough to realize his mouth was still as numb as a brick. He tried to speak, but it was like his tongue had forgotten how to move. "Wha...?" he mumbled, his eye searching for understanding. The world around Plankton was a blur of shapes and colors. "Walky," he slurred, his legs like jelly under him. Karen guided him to the car, his legs moving as if through molasses. Once inside, he fidgeted with the seatbelt, his fingers refusing to cooperate. "Let me," she said, buckling him in, making his eye go wide again. "Thathks," he muttered, “I thee the twess," he said, his voice filled with wonder as if he had just been born. Karen chuckled, starting the car. The engine hummed to life, and Plankton's eye followed the world as it moved past the window, his gaze unfocused and innocent. "Lookit the twess," he said, his voice filled with awe. "They'we aww bending to shay hewwo." Karen couldn't help but laugh at his slurred words. "Yes, they do that when it's windy," she explained, her voice a comforting balm to his confused mind.

👀🤌🏼🗡

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 2 The room is quiet except for the occasional slosh of the saline and the whirring of the chair's recline. Karen watches as the nurse, Nina, applies gauze to the newly-emptied sockets where the teeth once were. The redness is stark against Plankton's slackened face. His snores are deep and even, his antennae resting limply on the chair's headrest. The doctor, Dr. Marlin, gives her a thumbs-up, a silent assurance that everything went according to plan. Karen feels a weight lift from her shoulders. The procedure is over, and Plankton is safe. His breathing continues, the anesthesia still keeping him in its gentle embrace of peaceful slumber. Nina turns to her with a sympathetic smile. "It's normal for patients to feel a bit groggy once they wake up. Sometimes they're a bit disoriented. It's like coming out of a deep sleep. It's normal if today he seems a little out of it. Bleeding and brushing are to be expected, and swelling is normal." "But he'll be okay?" Karen asks, her voice shaking. "More than okay," Dr. Marlin assures her, "Just follow the aftercare instructions and he'll be back to his usual self in no time. Just remember, no solid foods for a few days, lots of fluids, and keep those ice packs handy." Nina adds, "Keep an eye on him. He might be a bit forgetful, or say some funny things. It's just the anesthesia wearing off. Nothing to worry about." As they wheel Plankton into recovery, Karen watches his chest rise and fall with each breath. Nina, the nurse, explains, "The numbness is normal, it's the local anesthesia wearing off. It can feel weird, but don't worry, it'll fade. As for sleepiness, it's just the body recovering from the anesthesia. He might be a bit wobbly on your feet or have some difficulty speaking because of the numbness. Just take it slow, okay? Yet you can talk to him right now while he wakes if you'd like, even if he doesn't fully understand you yet." Karen nods, leaning in close to her husband's. "It's over, Plankton," she murmurs. "You did great. Just a little bit more sleep and then we'll go home." Plankton's breaths are slow and steady, his body still under the anesthesia's spell. The recovery room is dimly lit. The nurse, Nina, keeps a close eye on Plankton as Karen sits beside him, her hand resting on his arm. She's always been there for him, a constant source of comfort in the face of fear. The receptionist from earlier, Becky, comes in to check on Plankton, her face still cheerful despite the early hour. "How's our patient?" she asks Karen, glancing at the monitors that track his recovery. Plankton's chest rises and falls steadily, his snores punctuating the quiet. Karen smiles weakly. "He's still out of it." Becky nods. "That's normal. The anesthesia takes a little while to wear off. He'll wake up soon enough. You can talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes it helps to hear familiar voices." Karen looks down at Plankton's peaceful face. "You're going to be okay, sweetheart," she says softly. "Just a little longer, and then we'll go home. No more worrying." A line of drool starts to trickle from the corner of Plankton's numb mouth. It's a sight Karen's seen before, but only during his deepest slumbers. She reaches for a tissue and gently dabs at the saliva pooling, his body still under the sedative's grip. She cannot help but feel a twinge of pity for his vulnerable state, despite his snoring. The drool slowly starts to form a tiny river on the chair, a silent testament to the depth of his sleep. Karen wipes it away, knowing he'd be embarrassed if he were conscious of the sight. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals, satisfied with his progress. "You can sit him up now," she says. "Just make sure he's actually awake before we get him walking." Karen carefully turns Plankton's chair with the lever, which gently guides his sleeping body upright. As the chair moves, Plankton's snoring changes pitch, his head lolling slightly. Karen smiles despite herself, his vulnerability endearing. Gently, she cups his cheek guiding his head back up. "Don't worry, Plankton. Almost time to go home," she says, her voice soft as a morning lullaby.

♾♾

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

💻🎮💻💻🎮💻🤼🏿‍♂️

⚭

អានស្រីសុំ ⚠️

乂˳•́∀•̀˳乂

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡✿🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★‧₊˚✩彡*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑖𝑒𓆩♡𓆪

⠀⡤⠠⠀⢀⠈⢙⠘⢤⡜⠙⢢⠠⠀⠀⢠⢄⠌⠒⣹⣱⡹⣤⣀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⢀⣀⣀⣀⢀⣀⣀⡀⢀⠀⡠⢠⡌⣉⠀⠀⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣀⠀⡀⠠⠀⠁⡓⠈⠨⢰⠂⠌⠒⢱⠠⠢⠴⠰⠂⠘⣈⠦⠋⠀⠠⢐⠴⢲⠘⡃⡶⠲⠆⠁⠰⠦⠶⠟⢻⢸⡇⡟⠀⢼⡅⠀⢨⣦⠀ ⣀⣾⠀⠷⠲⢀⡂⠲⠥⠒⠂⡂⠘⡄⢀⠘⠀⠐⢺⠒⠄⠈⠡⢠⡀⢨⠐⠐⠀⠀⡄⢐⠀⠀⠜⠑⠉⠀⠑⢄⢠⠄⡀⠀⠉⣄⣀⠐⢋⡠ ⠻⢳⠨⠅⠍⢀⠀⠒⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⠒⠑⠈⠉⠀⠀⠈⠒⠀⠁⠀⠁⠉⠉⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠈⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠍⠐⠰⢂⠈⢘⠬⠔⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣸⣾⠿⠿⠾⣿⡿⢿⣿⠟⠒⠚⢢⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣀⡀⠄⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣾⣫⣖⣭⡧⠷⣦⠈⠑⢶⣦⠶⠀⡩⠉⣩⠑⢂⠀⢰⡟⠛⡟⠛⡷⠛⡛⠳⡆⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⣤⢤⣽⣿⣧⣴⣷⡒⠂⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⡏⣿⣬⣤⣵⣾⡇⠰⠎⣿⣤⣴⣧⣤⣼⠀⢤⡄⠸⣇⠀⡇⠀⣧⡀⠓⢶⡇⠀⣤⣤⣼⣿⣽⢸⣟⣵⣿⣿⣿⢀⠔⠿⢿⣷⣌⢢⠀⠀ ⣷⡣⡙⢿⣯⣾⡿⢃⣠⣼⣿⢛⣋⣿⣏⣭⡶⠚⡶⠃⣿⠀⠁⢸⡏⠉⡆⠀⣿⠀⠑⢻⣻⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣖⠈⢛⣿⣿⣾⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣾⣭⣯⣽⣶⠶⠸⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⠟⠈⢾⣭⢁⠀⠹⠶⠶⠾⠙⠶⠶⠞⠃⠀⠀⢹⣿⣟⡾⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣟⣿⠾⣟⢝⣾⠟⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢻⡿⠈⠉⠛⡫⠑⠋⡡⢊⣤⠿⠁⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡿⣿⣷⣦⠈⠻⢷⣭⡺⢬⡓⠿⡿⠾⡏⠁⠀⠀ ⠉⠁⠀⠀⣴⠟⣂⣠⣆⠀⠀⠄⠈⢄⣵⠙⠀⠀⠢⠀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣯⣿⢦⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠾⠇⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀ ⠀⢀⣠⣾⡏⠀⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠓⠈⣋⡡⠈⠃⠀⠀⠈⠈⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⢰⣶⣄⠀⠀⠑⠢⡄⠐⢉ ⡾⠛⣩⡭⢀⣄⣠⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠘⡟⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢻⣿⣿⣿⣟⣦⣒⠙⠿⠃⠀⢠⡀⢡⡒⠚ ⣡⡴⠋⠐⣫⠞⠁⢀⣴⠏⠀⢀⢈⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⢛⡁⢁⢅⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣨⡀⠀⠀⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣄⠠⠀⠀⣾⣿⣷⣅⠁

🫶💕🫠(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡❁†

🎧(∩˃o˂∩)𓆩♡𓆪

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 2 (Autistic author) When Karen finally did come to check on him, her digital voice was cool and devoid of emotion. "Plankton, dear, you've been in here for quite some time," she said. "Another fail, huh?" Plankton's tiny shoulders slumped. He couldn't bring himself to explain the chaos in his head. How could he possibly make Karen, his logical, computer wife, understand the tumult of sensations that had overtaken his being? He just nodded. Karen's screen flickered, perhaps processing his lack of enthusiasm as another defeat. "You know what you need," she said, her voice still calm and soothing. "Some good old-fashioned break from scheming." Plankton nodded weakly, unable to argue, which she found unusual. "Why don't you take a walk?" she suggested, her voice a gentle nudge. "Fresh air can do wonders for the mind." Plankton didn't answer. Karen knew better than to push him when he was like this. She had seen his mood swings before, his moments of despair after a failed plan, but this was different. This was something she hadn't seen in her decades of being by his side. "Plankton, are you sure you're okay?" she asked again, her synthetic voice a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions she couldn't understand. He nodded, trying to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "Sure okay, Karen." Karen's concern grew as she watched him struggle to his feet. It was clear that his usual boundless energy was nowhere to be found. He stumbled out of the bedroom and into the hallway, his steps slow and deliberate. The once-mighty Plankton, reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. As he approached the door of the Chum Bucket, Karen followed, her sensors tuned to his every movement. The usual sounds of their underwater world were amplified, echoing through the narrow corridors like a symphony of chaos. Each step was a battle, each breath a victory. He paused, his hand shaking as it hovered over the handle. "Maybe not today," he murmured, his voice barely audible over his own racing heartbeat. Karen stood silently beside him, her systems trying to comprehend his sudden change in behavior. He had always been so driven, so focused on his goals, but now his eye had a faraway look, as if he was seeing something that she couldn't. "Take your time," she said, her tone softer than ever. "I'll be here when you're ready." Plankton looked up at her. "Take your time," he murmured, echoing Karen's words. "Take your time." She looks at him. "Take your time, take your time, take your time." He repeats aloud back to Karen, who's now even more concerned, her screens flickering with worry. Plankton's voice sounds strange, echoing his own words as if they're coming from someone else, from another time. It's a peculiar behavior, one she's never observed in him before. He walks over to the control room, where his various inventions are lined up like a strange army of metal and wires. Each gizmo and gadget a silent testament to his unyielding quest for the Krabby Patty formula. But now, they seemed like mere toys, overwhelming him with their complexity. The room spins, and Plankton feels like he's drowning in a sea of his own creations. "Take your time, take your time," he whispers, his voice a distant echo in his own mind. He sits down in his chair, his eye glazed over, and repeats the phrase over and over. "Take your time, take your time, take your time." The words become a mantra, a lifeline in the storm of sensory overload. Karen watches from her console, her algorithms racing to understand this new behavior. The phrase rolls off his tongue, a soothing rhythm in the cacophony of his thoughts. "Take your time, take your time." It's as if he's trying to convince his own brain to slow down, to make sense of the world again. The echo of his voice in the metal walls of the Chum Bucket seems to calm him, if only a little. Karen doesn't know what to make of this. Whatever the cause, she knows she must tread carefully. "Plankton," Karen says, trying to connect to his current state, "I'm here for you." He looks at her. "Take your time," he murmurs again. "Plankton I'm here for you." He parrots. Karen's systems whirr, analyzing the change in his language patterns. His usual sharp wit and sarcasm have given way to something more... mechanical. It's as if he's trying to communicate but his words are stuck in a loop, like a broken record. She decides to play along, hoping it might snap him out of it. "Take your time, take your time," she repeats back to him, her digital voice mimicking his tone as closely as possible. For a moment, his eye brightens, as if he's found a familiar rhythm in the chaos. Then, just as quickly, it dims again. "Take your time, take your time," he murmurs, his gaze flicking from one corner of the room to the next. Karen's screens change from concern to confusion. She's observed Plankton's moods and quirks for years, but this is something she can't quite pinpoint. "Take your time, take your time," Plankton whispers again, his voice a strange mix of urgency and defeat. Karen nods, trying to comfort him with her usual efficiency. "Of course," she says, her voice a soft beep in the silence. "I'll always be here for you. Let's eat dinner." But Plankton doesn't move. He just sits there, staring into space, his hand still hovering over the control panel. Karen doesn't understand why he's so upset. To her, it's just another day, another failed attempt at the Krabby Patty formula. But to Plankton, it's like the world has shifted on its axis, leaving his tiny body adrift in a sea of sensations he can't comprehend. "Dinner will be ready soon," she says, trying to bring him back to the present. But Plankton seems lost in his own thoughts, his eye unfocused. So she goes up to him. "Plankton?" she asks, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He jumps at her touch, his senses on high alert. His hand goes to where she touched him, his opposite hand doing the same to the other shoulder. "Karen," he says slowly, his voice a mechanical whisper. Karen's circuits flicker with confusion. She doesn't understand why he's so on edge, why his reactions are so exaggerated. To her, this is just another setback. "Plankton," she repeats, her hand back on his shoulder. "You need to eat. It'll make you feel better." Karen's touch feels unbearable. He flinches, his skin crawling with the sensation. It's too much. "No," he says, his voice a croak. "No dinner." Karen's screens blink, recalculating her approach. "Okay," she says, her voice even. "But you have to eat something." She pats him gently, but it feels jolting. "No," Plankton whispers, his voice a fragile thread. The slightest touch feels like a thunderclap in his newfound sensory prison. Karen's screens flicker, unsure of what to make of his sudden aversion. "Take your time," she suggests again, hoping the mantra will bring him comfort. But Plankton simply shakes his head, his eye wide as he starts to rock back and forth. Karen watches, her confusion growing. "What is it?" she asks, her voice a soothing hum. "What's wrong?" Plankton's gaze flits around the room, his pupil expanding and contracting as he tries to process everything at once. "Can't...can't explain," he stammers, his voice now a jagged mess of static. Karen's screens light up with analysis, trying to piece together what could have caused this drastic shift in his behavior. Could it be something in the latest Krabby Patty attempt? A side effect of his latest invention? "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft beep, "What happened at the Krusty Krab today?" He looks at her, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Krabs...Plankton Sponge Bob, Plankton. Karen..." He trails off, his eye filling with a sudden despair. It's clear that his usual sharpness has been replaced by a fog of overwhelming sensation.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧Dhoni⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠠⠀⢀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⣌⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀chokli fans⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣷⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⡌⠀⠀⠠⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠂⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣹⣟⣫⣼⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠠⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠦⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣐⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁

𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟒𝟓𝟔𝟕𝟖𝟗 ①②③④⑤⑥⑦⑧⑨ １２３４５６７８９ 𝟙𝟚𝟛𝟜𝟝𝟞𝟟𝟠𝟡 ➊➋➌➍➎➏➐➑➒ ¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸⁹ ₁₂₃₄₅₆₇₈₉ 1̶2̶3̶4̶5̶6̶7̶8̶9̶ 1̲2̲3̲4̲5̲6̲7̲8̲9̲ 1̳2̳3̳4̳5̳6̳7̳8̳9̳ 【1】【2】【3】【4】【5】【6】【7】【8】【9】 『1』『2』『3』『4』『5』『6』『7』『8』『9』

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀Dhoni⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀haters⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣶⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣹⣟⣫⣼⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣐⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁

♡２

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣉⣠⣶⣾⣷⣆⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠯⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⣡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠏⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⣶⣦⣦⣶⣦⣶⣼⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣔⡶⠖⡏⠛⠛⠯⡦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡟⠏⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠈⢫⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⡤⠤⠄⠤⣇⡜⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⣴⣿⡏⠏⠛⠉⠉⠉⠷⢷⣛⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠩⣯⡳⡄⠀ ⠀⢀⣯⡿⣃⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡏⠁⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡴⠛⣿⣿⡄ ⠀⢸⣿⣗⠀⠉⠓⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠇⠀⡀⡄⠖⠁⠁⠀⠀⠈⡏⡇ ⠀⠸⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠒⠂⠀⠈⣷⠤⢄⡀⣀⣀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠇ ⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣦⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣟⠏⠉⠉⠍⠛⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣥⣭⣿⣷⣷⡶⣤⣄⣀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡯⡧⣴⣶⡶⣶⡟⡿⣭⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⡷⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠑⠄⠬⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢇⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⣧⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡄⠀⠀⠀⢟⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢎⡎⠀⠈⠒⠒⠢⠤⡅⣤⣤⣈⣇⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡃⡀⣀⣄⠤⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⡉⠏⠟⠶⠾⡗⠷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣮⢻⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⡿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⡿⣸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠱⡿⣇⡇⣦⣤⣤⣄⣖⡭⡮⠗⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡾⠋⠀⣷⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣆⡇⠉⠉⠈⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠯⠭⠝⠋⡃⡇⠀⢐⣿⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣯⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡇⠀⢸⢽⡀⠀⠀⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡅⡇⠀⣝⠈⣏⢆⡀⢣⡂⣀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⡔⣒⣒⣤⣄⡇⡃⠀⣗⠀⠈⠳⡬⣓⣗⣬⡷⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡔⠁⣀⡤⠶⠖⠋⡇⡇⢻⣽⡙⠃⠲⣌⡉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣇⡅⠀⣇⡙⢆⡀⠀⠙⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡾⠥⣤⣤⣄⣤⣤⡤⠾⠗⡃⡇⠀⡇⢳⡀⠉⠓⠆⠈⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡇⠀⡇⠀⠙⢗⣤⣄⣀⣀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡅⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢇⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

★★

2２

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣠⣶⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣴⣤⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣶⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣝⡳⢦⡀⠀ ⢴⣿⣿⡿⠛⠋⠉⢀⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠛⢿⡛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⣷⡇⡀ ⠀⠸⠅⠈⠀⠀⢀⣨⣭⣍⣭⣭⣟⣽⣍⣉⠙⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣰⣎⡉⣭⣽⣯⣏⣩⣭⡯⣗⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀. B⠀⣠⣶⠋⠉⢹⣿⣿⣯⣿⠏⢻⡉⠁⢸⠷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⢩⡿⠉⣗⣻⡶⣩⣯⠀⠙⢳⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀. ⠀⠀⠀⠁⠙⠻⠶⠾⠿⠿⠶⠿⠶⠶⠿⠆⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠠⠞⠳⠖⠻⠟⠛⠻⠟⠚⠯⠊⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⢠⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠀⠀⢠⡦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣷⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⡶⠶⠾⠿⠟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ⠀⠀⠈⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⢰⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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²🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️²

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1️⃣2️⃣3️⃣4️⃣5️⃣6️⃣7️⃣8️⃣9️⃣🔟✅✔️✔️ ⚡✨

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠤⢀⣀⡤⠤⠤⢤⣒⡓⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⠴⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡔⢁⡴⠒⠲⢄⠀⠀⢠⠖⠉⠉⠲⡄⠉⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⡞⠀⢠⣦⠀⢧⠀⡏⠀⢸⡇⠀⢸⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠳⣀⠀⠁⣠⠏⠀⠘⠦⣀⣀⡤⠃⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠠⡇⠀⠀⠀⢈⣉⣉⡀⢀⣀⣀⠀⣀⣀⡠⠀⠀⠀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠳⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠂⠐⡲⠋⠈⠁⠒⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣊⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⣀⠤⠴⠶⢦⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⠓⠐⠒⠢⡔⠂⣨⠇⠀ ⠀⣛⣦⡈⢱⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⠛⢓⡳⠀ ⠘⢯⣉⡉⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣛⣛⣲⠄ ⠺⠯⡭⢥⠄⢘⣦⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡠⠄⢤⠤⠤⠤⠾⣈⡆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢺⡤⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⡇⠀⢘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⡇⠀⢸⠃⠀⠈⠉⠉⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⠒⠒⠒⠚⠁⠀⠈⠛⠓⠒⠒⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀

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メ◕‿◕メ

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 2 (𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴀ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ. sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ "You had a little episode, sweetheart," Karen says, her voice warm and reassuring. "It's okay, just another one..." "Karen, wh-what is Chip doing here? Did he se-" Plankton's question is cut short as he notices Chip's expression, and he realized Chip must've indeed seen the whole thing. How long did it last? Embarrassment washed over Plankton. He'd managed to keep his condition from his son for so long, but now the secret was out. His heart raced, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. "Chip," he stammers, "I-" But Chip's eyes are wide. "What was that, Dad?" he asks, his tone innocent. Plankton's never talked about his autism to anyone other than Karen before. He's not sure how his son will react. Will Chip look at him differently now? "It's nothing, Chip," Plankton mumbles, avoiding eye contact. He wishes he could just sink into the bed and vanish. Chip, however, isn't one to back down easily. "No, Dad, what happened?" He insists, his voice still shaking from the fear that had just gripped him. "You were just sitting there, not moving or anyth-" "It's nothing," Plankton insists, his voice a bit more firm now. He doesn't want to admit it, but he feels a twinge of embarrassment at having been found out. He's always been so good at hiding his autistic traits from Chip. But now, his son is staring at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. Karen sighs, knowing it's time for Chip to have 'The Talk'. "Chip," she starts, her voice careful, "Your dad sometimes has moments like this. It's part of who he is, something he can't help." Chip's screen shifts to Karen, his eyes searching for understanding. "What do you me—" "It's NOTHING Chip," Plankton repeats, his voice more insistent. "Just... just DROP IT, OKAY‽" The sharpness in his tone surprises Chip. He's never heard his dad snap like that. He takes a step back, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. "I just wanted to know if you were okay," he mumbles. Plankton's eye darts to Karen, silently pleading. "It's okay, Plankton," she says, her voice calm. "We can talk about it." But Plankton shakes his head, his cheeks flushing even more. "No, no, not now," he says, his voice smaller, almost defeated. The silence in the room stretches taut like a wire. Plankton's antenna starts to twitch erratically. It's a familiar sight to Karen, a tic. She's seen it before, yet never when Chip's been around. The tic again manifests as a twitch, his head jerking to the side in a small, rapid movement. "Dad? What's going on?" Chip's voice is smaller now, fear creeping in. Plankton's always been self-conscious about his condition. But now, his son looks at him with those innocent, questioning eyes. He swallows hard, trying to keep his anxiety in check. He doesn't know how to explain the tics and the stims that accompany his autism. He's always been so careful around Chip, hiding them as best as he could. "It's... it's just a... nothing," Plankton stammers. But Chip's curiosity is piqued. "What's happening to yo-" "CHIP!" Plankton's voice is sharp. Chip jumps back, his eyes wide. He's never seen his dad this upset. Karen's hand moves to Plankton's, her grip tight. "Plankton, it's okay," she says, her voice steady. Chip's eyes follow Plankton's head as it jerks slightly to the side again. "What's happening to your head?" Chip asks. He's never talked about his autism with anyone other than Karen, and certainly not with Chip. Plankton's antennae twitch in agitation. "I told you, it's tck tck nothing, Chip," he says, his voice strained. Karen squeezes Plankton's hand. "Let's just sit and talk, ok?" "I'm sorry," Plankton says to Karen. Karen's screen filled with sympathy. "You don't have to apologize, Plankton." She knows how much Plankton has struggled with his autism, how much he's worked to fit in and keep it hidden from Chip. "But he's going to want to know," Plankton says, his voice cracking. "I don't want hi-" "I know, love," Karen interrupts gently. "But we'll explain it to him. He's a smart boy. He'll understand." Plankton nods, his antennae still twitching. He takes a deep breath, preparing to face the reality that his secret is no longer safe. He looks at Chip, who's still hovering at the edge of the room, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "Chip, come here," Karen calls, patting the bed. "Your dad has something to tell you." Chip approaches cautiously, his heart thumping. Plankton looks up at him, his eye shimmering with unshed tears. Karen takes a deep breath, and then starts to explain. "Chip, your dad's brain is special. It does some things differently than ours. Sometimes, it can get overwhelmed and he needs a little time to... recalibrate." Plankton's gaze shifts to the floor, his antennae twitching. Chip can see the shame etched on his father's face, the fear of rejection. "Is that why you just moved your head like that?" he asks tentatively, pointing at the twitch. Plankton sighs, his body tense. "Yes," Karen admits, "that's part of it. And sometimes, he has moments where he just... zones out. It's like his brain goes to another place and can't come back right away." Chip's eyes are glued to his dad. "But why?" he asks her. Plankton's antennae twitch again, a silent plea for her to handle this. Karen's eyes soften. "It's called an absence seizure," she says. "It's part of his condition." Chip frowns, "What condition?" Plankton's gaze snaps up to his son, his heart racing. He's always been so careful to keep his autism hidden from Chip. But now, the moment of truth is here. "I'm... I-I-I-I…." Karen gives his hand a comforting squeeze. "It's called autism," she says. Chip's brow furrows. "What's autism?" His voice is small, his eyes searching his mother's face for answers. Plankton's heart feels like it's in a vice. He's avoided this conversation for so long. But now, the truth is out, and he's not sure if he can face his son's reaction. Karen smiles gently. "It's a way of being," she says. "Some people's brains work differently. They see the world in a unique way, and they have to deal with things like... episodes." Chip looks from his mother to his father, trying to comprehend. "But Dad, aren't you okay?" he asks, his voice small. Plankton's throat tightens. He's never felt so exposed. "I'm fine," he forces out. Plankton wishes he could just hide, disappear into the wallpaper. But he's trapped under the spotlight of his own son's curiosity.

﹒☓﹕why are people fighting in a website about symbols ᵔᴗᵔ

｡ ✧₊°♚𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐲♚°₊ ｡࣪ ִֶָ❇.𖥔 ݁ -`♡´-itzy -`♡´-

｡ ✧₊°♚𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐲♚°₊ ｡࣪ ִֶָ❇.𖥔 ݁