Ivcore Emojis & Text

KAREN AND THE TEETHIES iv The nurse finishes up and turns to Karen with a gentle smile. "He'll be waking up soon," she says. "Why don't you talk to him? Sometimes hearing a familiar voice can help bring them around better." Karen nods, leaning in. "You did so good," she says, her voice filled with love. "It's almost over." Plankton's snores remain consistent, his mouth slightly open as he drools onto the chair. She reaches over and carefully wipes it away with a tissue. The room is quiet except for the soft beeps of the monitors and the sound of Plankton's deep, even breaths. The assistant begins to remove the I.V. from Plankton's arm, his hand steady despite the tiny vein he's working with. The nurse stands by, ready with a cup of water and a comfortable chair for him to sit in when he wakes. Karen's eyes follow her every move, eager for the moment she can take him home. The minutes tick by, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the surgical lights and the occasional snore from Plankton. His drool forms a tiny puddle on the chair, and Karen dabs it away with a tissue. His breathing is deep and steady, the anesthesia keeping him in a peaceful slumber. Dr. Finnegan checks the monitors one last time before nodding to the nurse. "Due to the numbing medication we administered into his mouth, Karen, Plankton probably won't immediately feel his mouth or talk fluently, not to mention the normal confusion from anesthesia." The nurse starts to lower the chair into a more upright position. Plankton's snores become less snuffly, more like a soft purr. "Okay, Karen," Dr. Finnegan says, "You can start talking to him now. It'll help him come around." Karen nods, leaning in closer. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice filled with warmth, "it's almost over. You did so well." Plankton's snoring morphs into a gentle snuffle as his head lolls on the chair. His drool forms a tiny stream down his chin, and Karen wipes it away with a tissue, trying not to laugh at the sight. The nurse smiles at her, patting his hand. "He's just about ready." The chair slowly reclines back, and Plankton's snores change pitch again, his mouth opening slightly more, revealing his swollen gums and the freshly stitched sockets. Karen's heart swells with love and concern. This is her husband, her rock, currently a ragdoll in the hands of anesthesia. The nurse puts down her tools and gently shakes Plankton's shoulder. "Mr. Plankton, it's time to wake up," she says in a soothing voice. Karen squeezes his hand and whispers, "You can do it, babe. It's almost over." Plankton's snores begin to soften, turning into small moans as he stirs in the chair. Karen's voice grows slightly louder, "Plankton, wake up, you're okay." The nurse nods, her hand still on his shoulder. "Come on, Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "Time to wake up now." Plankton's snores taper off into quiet, shallow breaths, his mouth still slightly open. A string of saliva stretches between his bottom lip and the chair, and Karen quickly wipes it away with the tissue. His eyelid flutters open, his gaze unfocused and glazed. He blinks slowly, looking around the room as if trying to piece together where he is. Karen's eyes are on him, a mixture of love and concern, as she smiles down at him, and he looks at her with a confused expression. "Welcome back," she says softly. His mouth moves, but a sound comes out, being a slightly slurred mumble that sounds like "Mmph?" The nurse laughs gently. "It's normal for the mouth to be numb. You just had your wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widens a little, and he tries to speak again, "Wheah...?" The nurse chuckles. "Your mouth is still numb, don't worry." Karen takes the cue and reassures him, "You're at the dentist, honey. You just had your wisdom teeth removed." Plankton blinks again, his eye slowly focusing on her face. He then looks at the nurse with confused suspicion. His eye widens a bit more, looking at his arm where the I.V. had been, now just a small bandage. The nurse nods. "Yes, you're all done. We're just waiting for you to wake up fully before we let you go ho-" Plankton interrupts with a slurred, "Huh?" His tongue doesn't quite cooperate, and he ends up drooling a bit more. Karen laughs, the tension in the room dissipating. "You heard her, you're okay," she says, patting his hand. But Plankton's not quite convinced. His eye narrows as his mind fights the fog of the anesthesia. "Wha... wha... youw nee thoo do my teethies! Youw shupposht to taketh them out!" The nurse laughs lightly, a kindness in her eyes. "Don't worry, Mr. Plankton, we did. You're all done. Dr. Finnegan took them out." Plankton's gaze shifts to Dr. Finnegan with curiosity. "Who's 'Dr. Finny-gwan'?" he slurs, his voice thick with confusion. Karen laughs softly, "It's Dr. Finnegan, sweetie. He's the dentist. He's the one who just took your teeth out." Plankton's unfocused eye swivels towards Dr. Finnegan, his expression one of disbelief. "Y-you're not... 'Dr. Finny-gwan'?" he stammers, the words sliding out of his mouth like molasses. The dentist chuckles, his face appearing over Karen's shoulder. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice calm. "I'm right here, see?" Plankton blinks heavily, his eye darting between the nurse and Dr. Finnegan, trying to make sense of the situation. "bu’... my teethies," he mumbles, his hand rising to tentatively touch his swollen cheeks. The nurse's smile never fades as she says, "Yes, Dr. Finnegan performed the surgery. You're all set." But Plankton's not so sure. He looks at her hand on his shoulder, the same one that was so gentle when he was unconscious. "You... youwre not... a... nentis," he asks, his words thick with drowsiness. The nurse laughs gently, her patience unwavering. "No, Mr. Plankton, I'm not. I'm just here to help you wake up. Dr. Finnegan is the one who did the surgery." She gestures to the dentist, who smiles back at Plankton. But Plankton's mind is still swimming in anesthesia. "Thent... then wha... who dat?" he slurs, pointing a shaky finger at the figure behind the surgical mask. The nurse laughs gently, not offended by his confusion. "I'm just here to assist Dr. Finnegan," she explains, her voice soft and soothing. "I didn't do the surgery. He did." Plankton's eye squints suspiciously at her, his hand still hovering over his cheek. "Buth... youw... you haz... hands..." he mumbles. The nurse's smile doesn't falter. "Yes, I do. But I promise you, it was Dr. Finnegan who performed the surgery." Plankton's gaze swings to Dr. Finnegan again, his expression a mix of confusion and accusation. "Den... den who... who ish... ish..." his voice trails off as he tries to form coherent words, but his mouth isn't cooperating. The dentist laughs, a deep, hearty sound that fills the room. "It's okay, Plankton. You're just a little out of it right now." He reaches out to give Plankton's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Let's get you into the recovery chair." Karen helps to lift him up, his body feeling like a rag doll in her arms. He leans heavily on her, his legs shaky and unsteady. The nurse supports his other side as they guide him to the chair. "Whathish ish...?" he mumbles, his eye glazed and unfocused, his hand feeling along the chair as if trying to understand what it is. "It's your chair, Plankton," Karen says with a smile, helping him to sit upright. Plankton's gaze travels slowly to the chair. "Chair?" he slurs, his voice barely a whisper. He looks back at Karen, then at the nurse, his eye wide with bewilderment. "Whath... whath do I do wiff thish... chair?" The nurse and Karen both chuckle, the tension of the surgery lifting slightly. "You just sit down, sweetie," Karen says, her voice soothing. "Let's get you comfortable." Plankton looks at the chair with a mix of suspicion and exhaustion. "Buth... I don't know how to siht," he slurs, his mouth barely moving. His hand grips the armrest as if it's a life preserver. Karen laughs softly, supporting him as he sits. "You've got this," she says, adjusting his posture. "Just let yourself lean back." Plankton's eyelid flaps weakly. "Buth... buth how do youw siht?" he repeats, his words slurring into each other. His head lolls back, and Karen and the nurse share a look of amusement. The nurse gently pushes his head back. "Just and relax, Mr. Plankton," she instructs. "We've got you."

"We removed Plankton's wisdom teeth. He's still asleep, you can stay with him." Said the oral surgeon to Karen. They've just finished and lead Karen into the room. Plankton is lying in the hospital bed, his face a mask of peace, the only signs of the recent surgery being the gauze in his mouth and the drool seeping out the side. His cheeks are slightly swollen, and she wonders when he'll wake up. The doctor said it could take a while. The IV line snakes up his arm. Karen pulls a chair up beside the bed. She takes his hand and holds it gently, feeling the warmth of his skin contrast with the coolness of her own palm. The room is sterile, the air conditioning humming steadily in the background. The faint smell of disinfectant fills the space. She looks around the room, noticing the monitors beeping in rhythm with Plankton's breathing and heart rate. The nurse comes in and checks the machines, making a few quiet notes on a clipboard. She smiles at Karen, "He's doing well. Just let him sleep. It's the best thing right now." Karen nods, squeezing Plankton's hand slightly, willing him to feel her presence. She wonders what dreams he's having, if any, behind his closed lid. Time seems to crawl as Karen watches him sleep. She tries to read a book, but the words blur together. Her thoughts drift to their lives before this moment, their shared laughter, their arguments, the quiet moments of understanding. Her gaze lingers on his swollen cheeks, his chest rising and falling with each breath. A soft groan escapes his lips and his eye begins to flutter open. Slowly, Plankton comes to, his vision blurred by the anesthesia's last hangover. He blinks, trying to focus on Karen's face. She sets aside her book and smiles at him, her screen welcoming him back to the world of the conscious. "Hi," she says softly. "How are you feeling?" Plankton makes a sound that's somewhere between a whine and a grunt. His eye wanders the room before finally settling on hers. "What...what happened?" he slurs, the words barely audible through the gauze. Karen's smile widens a bit. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, remember?" He nods slightly. The nurse reappears, checking his vitals again with a gentle touch. "Time to go home," she says, removing the gauze. They make their way out of the hospital, Karen supporting Plankton gently as he stumbles, his legs still wobbly from the anesthesia. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Karen helps Plankton into the car, buckling him in and adjusting the seat so he can lean back and rest. He nods off almost immediately, his breathing evening out as the car starts and they pull away from the hospital. The drive home is quiet, Plankton's snores punctuating the hum of the engine. Karen keeps glancing over, checking on him, her concern etched into every line on her screen. The pain medication is strong, keeping him in a half-awake state. Each time he wakes, he looks around, disoriented, before his eye finds hers and his expression relaxes. Once they arrive, Karen guides him to the couch, his body feeling heavier than ever before. He slumps into the cushions and she grabs the ice pack from the cooler. "Hold this to your cheeks," she instructs, placing the cold compress against his skin. He nods obediently, his eye already glazing over with the promise of sleep. The TV flickers on, its blue light washing over the room. Karen finds a sitcom they both enjoy, hoping the familiar laughter will ease his pain and keep them both company. But Plankton's snores soon overpower the TV's audio, his head lolling to the side. She smiles, knowing he's in a deep slumber, and covers him with a blanket. The house is eerily quiet except for the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Karen moves around the kitchen, preparing a soft meal for when he wakes, her mind racing with thoughts of what the next few days will be like. Plankton's recovery will be slow, but she's ready to take care of him. She's his rock, his support, and she'll do anything to help him feel better.

"You're going to be okay," Karen assured Plankton. He clutched her hand. "I'm right here." The receptionist's voice echoed through the large waiting room. "Plankton?" Karen's heart jumped. She squeezed her husband's hand. They walked down the hallway, Plankton's breaths shallow, eye darting around the white, sterile walls. The nurse led them to a small room. "Just a few questions," the nurse smiled, her voice soothing as she helped him in the recliner. The nurse, noticing his agitation, spoke slowly and clearly. "We're just going to take your blood pressure, okay?" The nurse wrapped the cuff around his bicep, her movements gentle. The hiss of the air pump filled the tense silence. "Look at me, Plankton," Karen whispered, her calming gaze meeting his. "Take deep breaths." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm. The nurse waited patiently, giving them space. As the cuff tightened, Plankton's eye squeezed shut. The nurse completed her task quickly, her voice steady. "Good job," she said, patting his hand. Karen felt his fear spike, but his grip on her hand remained firm as the oral surgeon walked in. Dr. Marquez nodded at them, his demeanor calm and professional. "Hello, Plankton. I see we're getting ready for your wisdom teeth." He noticed Plankton's tension and turned to Karen. "You earlier mentioned his neurodisability. Is there anything special we can do to help make him comfortable?" Karen's screen lit up with gratitude. "Yes, thank you." She explained his need for calm and his sensory sensitivities. Dr. Marquez nodded thoughtfully. "We can use a weighted blanket to help with that. It provides a gentle pressure that can be quite comforting for some of my patients." He turned to the nurse. "Could you please bring one?" The nurse nodded and left the room. When she returned, she carried a soft, blue weighted blanket they warmed. They placed the blanket over Plankton, the weight evenly distributed. His body visibly relaxed under its soothing embrace. "It's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae. "This will help." Plankton felt the warmth of the blanket, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders and chest. But it did little to ease his dread. "Thank you, Dr. Marquez," Karen managed a smile, relief washing over her. She knew how important these accommodations were for her husband. The doctor explained the procedure, using simple terms that Plankton could understand. Karen noted how he tailored his explanation to avoid overwhelming details that might trigger anxiety. The anesthesiologist entered, her smile kind. "We're going to give you some medicine to help you sleep," she said gently, "and then you'll wake up without feeling a thing." Plankton nodded, his eye wide. Karen leaned in, her voice low. "You can hold my hand as you fall asleep." The anesthesiologist prepared the IV, but Plankton's grip on Karen's hand grew tighter. Dr. Marquez noticed his distress and suggested a different approach. "How about some laughing gas first?" he offered. "And perhaps a topical numbing agent.." The nurse quickly set up the gas mask, explaining each step. "This will help you relax," she said, placing it over him. "Just breathe normally." The sweet smell of the nitrous oxide filled him, yet he still remained awake. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen said soothingly. "Just keep breathing." He took a tentative breath, feeling the gas fill his lungs. The room began to spin, but not in the scary way he'd feared. It was more like floating. The weight of the blanket now felt like a gentle hug from the ocean depths, a warm embrace from his childhood home. Dr. Marquez waited until Plankton's breathing steadied, each gesture carefully calculated to avoid any sudden movements that might startle his patient. "You're doing great," he assured Plankton, his voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his anxiety. "You're almost there." Plankton inhaled another lungful of gas, his eye fluttering closed. The nurse gently began applying the topical numbing agent, her movements carefully choreographed to avoid any sudden jolts. Karen held his other hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're safe," she whispered. "I'm here." The gas grew heavier, his mind drifted further from the cold reality of the room. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the weighted blanket now a warm sea of comfort. His grip on Karen's hand grew looser, his breaths deepening. The doctor nodded to the anesthesiologist, who began the IV drip after using the topical numbing agent. Plankton's fear didn't vanish, but it became manageable, a distant thunderstorm rather than a hurricane in his face. His eye closed completely, his body going limp under the blanket. Karen watched as the surgical team moved with precision, their masks and caps dancing in her peripheral vision. The beeping of machines and the murmur of medical jargon filled her ears, but all she focused on was the rhythm of Plankton's breathing. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors and gave a nod. "He's ready," she said quietly. Dr. Marquez took his position, his gloved hands poised over Plankton's now open mouth after removing the gas mask. Karen's gaze was steady, her love and support unwavering as the surgical team moved in unison. The whirring of the instruments began, a soft mechanical lullaby to the background of Plankton's deep, even breaths. The surgery itself was a dance of precision, each gesture a step carefully choreographed to minimize discomfort. The doctor's hands were steady as he removed the wisdom teeth. Karen could see the tense lines in Plankton's face soften under the influence of the anesthesia. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors continuously, ensuring his vital signs remained steady. The nurse offered Karen a chair, but she chose to stand, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. As the surgery progressed, Karen felt the tension in the room ease. The surgical team worked with efficiency, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. Dr. Marquez spoke in hushed tones with his assistants, each word a gentle whisper in the symphony of medical sounds. Plankton's breaths steadied, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a soothing reminder that he was still with her, that his anxiety had been replaced by the peacefulness of deep sedation. The doctor's instruments continued to dance, a silent ballet of precision and care. The nurse occasionally glanced at Karen, offering a reassuring smile as they suture his gums with dissolving stitches. "Alright, we're all done," Dr. Marquez announced, his voice a gentle interruption to the symphony of beeps and whirs. "Let's wake him up slowly." Karen felt her own heart rate spike as the anesthesiologist began reversing the medication. They removed the IV drip and the nurse wiped Plankton's mouth with a soft cloth, her touch as gentle as a sea anemone caressing his skin. His eye flickered open, unfocused and hazy. He blinked slowly, taking in the surroundings. Karen's screen was the first thing he saw, a beacon in the medical fog. "You're okay," she murmured, her voice the gentle hum of a distant lighthouse guiding his consciousness back to shore. Plankton blinked again, his vision swimming into focus. The weighted blanket was still wrapped around him, the comforting pressure now a grounding reminder of her presence. His mouth felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. The nurse offered him water, and he sipped it slowly, feeling the coolness soothe his throat. "How do you feel?" Dr. Marquez asked, his voice a soft wave breaking over the shore of Plankton's awareness. Plankton nodded, his grip on Karen's hand firm. "Good," he managed to murmur, his voice thick with the aftermath of the anesthesia. Karen could see the relief in his eye, the storm of fear now a distant memory. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )

⚕️🏥🚑💉🩺🩹💊🏨👩🏻‍⚕️👨🏻‍⚕️❤️🥼🩸🦷🏣😷🧪🧬🫀❤️‍🩹🌡️🤒🚨📁👨‍⚕️🧫👩‍⚕️🫁🩹👀

🥼🩺☤🏆🥼

As a neurodivergent person I find emojicombos.com a favourite site. I also write here to make others happy and to make stories inspired by events similar to my experiences, so I can come back to them on any device to. Also, I hope any person reading has a great day! -NeuroFabulous (my search NeuroFabulous)

🩹🩹👩‍⚕️

──────▄▄───────────▄▄─────── ───────██─────────██──────── ────────██───────██───────── ─────────██─────██────────── ──────────██───██─────────── ───────────██─██──────────── ───────▄▄██████████▄──────── ──────█▀░░░░░░░░░░░▀█─────── ──────█░▄░░░▄░▄░░░▄░█─────── ──────█░░█████████░░█─────── ──────█░░▄█▀───▀█▄░░█─────── ██────█░░█──▄█▄──█░░█─────██ ███───█░░█──███──█░░█───▄███ █░██──█░░█──▀█▀──█░░█──▄█░█─ ▀█░██─█░░▀█▄───▄█▀░░█─▄█░█▀─ ─▀█░█▄█░░░░▀███▀░░░░█▄█░█▀── ──▀█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▀─── ───▀██░░░▄█▄▄▄▄▄▄█▄░░░█▀──── ─────▀█░▀▌─▌─▐──▌─▐▀░██───── ──────█░░▌─▌─▐──▌─▐░░█────── ──────█░░██████████░░█────── ──────█░░██████████░░█────── ──────█░░██████████░░█────── ──────█░░▀████████▀░░█────── ──────█░░░▌─▐──▌─▐░░░█────── ──────█░░░▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀░░░█────── ──────██░░░░░░░░░░░░██────── ───────██░░░░░░░░░░██─────── ────────█░▄██████▄░█──────── ────────█░█──────█░█──────── ────────█░█──────█░█──────── ────────██▀──────▀██────────

┌ ⃟🧠̶͞⇣

🏥 doutor 🌡️🚨

ㅤ🔐 ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘⡣🧠ㅤ𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖨𝖲 𝖬𝖸 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖣?ㅤ║▌│█ ║▌

💊👩🏻‍⚕️🏥

TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your finger before they use it in your mouth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the sucking noise. See how you feel with the specific doctor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the doctor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep throat test, ask if you can swab your own throat, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your throat’s structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)

F e l i c i t a t i o n s , m a l e f a c t o r s !

Bald Man © 8 hours ago ⬛⬛                     ⬛⬛ ⬛🟩⬛               ⬛🟩⬛    ⬛🟩⬛         ⬛🟩⬛       ⬛🟩⬛   ⬛🟩⬛       ⬛🟩⬛⬛⬛🟩⬛          ⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛       ⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛       ⬛🟩⬛⬛⬛🟩⬛   ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵈᵃʸ       ⬛🟩🟨🟨🟨🟩⬛      ❤    ⬛🟩🟩🟨🟥🟨🟩🟩⬛ ⬛🟩⬛🟩🟨🟨🟨🟩⬛🟩⬛ ⬛🟩⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟩⬛    ⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛       ⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛          ⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛       ⬛🟩⬛⬛⬛🟩⬛       ⬛⬛⬛   ⬛⬛⬛

❁્᭄͜͡🧠

hopefully my writing posts help ppl to feel understood or at least get a glimpse of all the possibilities neurodiverse ppl may experience (: (my search NeuroFabulous)

“Neurodivergent Umbrella”* Beneath the umbrella, it lists: ADHD DID & OSDD ASPD BPD NPD Dyslexia CPTSD Dyspraxia Sensory Processing Dyscalculia PTSD Dysgraphia Bipolar Autism Epilepsy OCD ABI Tic Disorders Schizophrenia Misophonia HPD Down Syndrome Synesthesia * non-exhaustive list

ˋ 💮 ˊ « ᴅʀ. ℒʸ∂ɪ🄰в ɪs ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ » 『🩺』┆ sʜᴇ’ᴅ!!┆『🚑 』ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴇᴇᴋᴇɴᴅ! ˋ🏥 ˊ⚕

"medical lab technician" "🥼💉🦠🩸🔬🧫"

🦠👩‍⚕🧬🩺💉🦠👩‍⚕🧬🩺💉

brain, dna,study 🧠🧬📚

👁️‍🗨️5️⃣👁️(*^o^*)

🧘🏻‍♂️🌿🍃🤸🏾🍏🎧 healthy

︶꒷꒦︶ 𓊆🤍𓊇 •┈ The Doctor Will See You Soon ೀ ┈• ❤️‍🩹 °˖ ⊹ ꒰🗝️🌡️꒱ Welcome back』ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ❤️‍🩹 ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ 𓍯 Don't You Worry 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈 ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆🩸 ┆ ┆ ┆ ⩩♥︎₊ I promise you… ⟢ ┆ ┆🩸 ┆ ‍ ᖗ⚠︎ This Will Be Quick 💉 ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ 🩸 ✄ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𓍯𓂃『Oh dear！』ˊˎ- 　　☹︎『My、This Doesn't Look So Good』☹︎ 　　　　　　 　　・・・ 🩹『It was an honest mistake！』🩸

ᥬ🤯᭄

Best PLANKBOB Episodes Season 1 10b "F.U.N." 15a "Sleepy Time" 16a "Valentine's Day" Season 6 109b "The Krabby Kronicle" 122b "Single Cell Anniversary" Season 7 137a "One Coarse Meal" 139a "Gramma's Secret Recipe" 141b "The Main Drain" Season 8 168b "Fiasco!" 177b "Move It or Lose It" The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge Out of Water Season 9 198b "CopyBob DittoPants" 203a "Pineapple Invasion" Season 10 207a "Mimic Madness" 207b "House Worming" 209b "Plankton Gets the Boot" 210b "Burst Your Bubble" 228b "Grandmum's the Word" 230b "Bottle Burglars" 232b "Shopping List" 235a "Plankton Paranoia" 238b "Karen's Virus" The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge on the Run Season 12 246a "Plankton's Old Chum" 254-255 "SpongeBob's Big Birthday Blowout" 259a "The Ghost of Plankton" 259b "My Two Krabses" 264a "Plankton's Intern" Season 13 272 "SpongeBob's Road to Christmas" 284a "The Flower Plot" 285a "Delivery to Monster Island" 289a "My Friend Patty" Season 14 294a "Single-Celled Defense" 305b "Sheldon SquarePants"

“HEAR ME KRABS! WHEN I DISCOVER YOUR FORMULA FOR KRABBY PATTIES I’LL RUN YOU OUT OF BUSINESS! I W E N T T O C O L L E G E!”

PLANKTON Lyrics If you see me lurking outside your door Better grab your belongings and swim for shore You’re all a bunch of dumbos who don’t know the store Well I went to college and I’m rotten to the core I’m a marine drifter, I’m a first rate grifter I can be a shapeshifter if that’s what’s called for I’m Plankton Get out of my way I’m Plankton Better do as I say (Karen: You always blow it, don’t you know it Time for me to take the lead If you listen to me for just once in your life Chances are we will succeed) P-L-A-N-K-T-O-N P-L-A-N-K-T-O-N P-L-A-N-K-T-O-N P-L-A-N-K-T-O-N Plankton, Plankton, Plankton, Plankton The secret formula is waiting for me here And you bet your boots I’m gonna get it If you underestimated my twisted brain Then for sure, you’re gonna regret it Taking over the world, today’s the day Sweet victory is just a pull away I’m Plankton The biggest evil genius I’m Plankton The smartest villain alive I’m Plankton I’m gonna get what I want I’m Plankton I’m taking over the world

◤ 𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙗𝙮𝙚 ; 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚! 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙮. ◢

🩺☤♡

ar شمشون (شخصية) Bangla প্ল্যাঙ্কটন Catalan Plàncton Chinese 皮老板 Hebrew פלנקטון hr Šime Josip Plankton シェルドン・ジェー・プランクトン （Sheldon J. Plankton） シェルドン・J・プランクトン ko 플랑크톤 (등장인물) ru Планктон (персонаж) sr Шелдон Планктон zh 皮老闆

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

👁️⚠️🧪💚👁️⚠️🧪💚👁️⚠️🧪💚👁️⚠️🧪💚

› ❝ ʸᵒᶸ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʷᵸᵃᵗ ᶥᵗ’ˢ ᶫᶥᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᶫᵒˢᵉʳ… ❞ ‹

THE DAȲ̴̧̱̭̯̹̗̥̬̬̭̠̉͆́̋͌̐̈̈ ̷̹͕̘͖̽͂̃͒̂́̊͗͂̔͝T̸͛̊HA̸͎͉̺͇͛̅̉̈́̈̎͝͝ͅͅT ̸̡͎̣̙͔͉͕̙͉̩̦͈̘͈̊͑͆͊̏͒̀̉̽̕͝͝Ķ̶̧̨̡̘͚̘͖̭͓͇̬̲̹̩̂́̆͂̎̌̅͒Ȓ̶̡̲͚͈͓̪̘̗̬̪̪͚̹͈Â̸̔BS ̴̢̨̰͓͍̝̯̥̤͈̖̪̹̏̏͂͛̈́̃̾͊̉̓̅̋̏F̴̻̳͚͖̞̤͍̥̫̤̀̃̀́͒̽͆̕R̸̃̀̎̈̌̏̕IẸ̸̡̦̹̤̼͉͕͙̗̠̤̼̖̬̈́͋̋̆S̴̨͍͉͙̻͉̼̩̯͕̽ͅ

𖦹ଳ𓂁𓇼𓂃𓆉.𓆉.𓆉𓂃𓇼𓂁ଳ𖦹

>⨀)

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

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣶⣆⣤⣴⣶⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⣠⣼⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⠋⠉⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣦⣴⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣩⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⣶⡀⢀⣤⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⣶⣼⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⣙⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣽⣿⣿⠻⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢿⣿⣦⣾⣿⡿⠟⠛⠿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣄⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣷⣴⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⠙⠿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣽⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠟⠁⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠻⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣮⣝⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣾⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⡄⠀⢀⣤⣾⣷⣿⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠉⠻⢷⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⠋⢹⣿⠋⢀⣠⣴⣾⠿⣻⣿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⣀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⠹⠋⢻⣿⣦⣄⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⢸⣿⠀⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⢁⣀⣠⣤⣄⣀⣉⠙⠻⢿⣷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⣩⣽⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣶⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⠟⠁⠀⣶⣿⡿⠛⠛⠙⠛⠛⠿⢿⣶⣶⣌⠛⢿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠹⣿⣧⣄⣀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣶⣿⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠉⠉⣿⡋⠙⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣫⡆⠀⣾⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣯⣿⣿⣦⠈⢻⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣶⣶⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣇⣤⣤⣬⣽⣿⣿⣟⣛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠿⠿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠇⣿⠁⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣾⣿⣦⠀⠙⢿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠉⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⣶⣶⣦⣤⣄⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣶⣴⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣆⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠻⠿⣿⣆⠀⠈⠻⣿⣦⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠛⠿⠿⢿⣷⣶⣦⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣼⣿⠟⠀⠘⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠉⠙⠻⢿⣿⡿⠿⢿⡇⡀⠀⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣠⣤⣼⣿⣷⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣻⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣾⠿⠋⠀⠀⢹⣿⠀⠀⢰⣿⠟⠁⣹⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠛⠿⠿⣷⣶⣶⣦⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⢻⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠷⠿⠇⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⣉⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠈⠉⠙⠻⢿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠿⢿⣶⣿⣉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠉⢠⣶⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢹⣿⣿⡿⠹⢿⣿⣟⠛⠿⠿⠷⢶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣶⣦⡀⠀⢀⣿⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⢿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣴⣶⣾⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣌⠉⠛⢿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣟⠿⠆⠙⢿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠻⢿⣶⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⡟⠋⠉⣉⣉⣭⣭⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣦⣻⣿⣿⠷⠀⠘⣿⠈⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢛⣿⣿⣶⡾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣾⡿⠿⣿⣦⣶⡀⠙⢿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠻⢿⣶⣾⣿⣋⢠⣶⣿⠟⠛⠉⢩⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣶⣶⣶⣀⠀⠘⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⢿⣷⣶⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣾⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⢿⣷⣦⣝⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⢿⣿⣟⡁⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⣻⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠻⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠿⠻⠿⣿⣯⣼⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⢫⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⣿⣆⡀⠈⠉⢻⣿⣤⣾⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⡇⠀⠈⢻⣷⣾⡿⠀⠀⠈⣻⣷⣶⠆⠀⠀⣠⣿⡿⠃⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣤⣠⣴⣶⣿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣙⣿⣷⣼⣃⣀⣀⡀⠀⣴⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⢀⣴⣿⡟⠉⠀⠀⣠⣼⡿⠏⠁⠀⣀⣴⣿⡟⠀⢀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠈⠙⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⢛⣻⣿⣿⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣶⣴⣶⣾⣟⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⠿⠛⢿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠿⠿⢷⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

>0(

FIVE Senses to ground yourself 5 things you See (eyesight) 4 things you Hear (listening) 3 things you Feel (touch) 2 things you Smell (scent) 1 thing you can Taste

ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ ᵂⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ⁽ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ‧" ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴱⁿⁱᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉˣᵗʳᵃᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵃᵇˡᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ‧ "ᴱⁿʲᵒʸᵃᵇˡᵉ‽" ᴱⁿⁱᵈ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧

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

kelpforestdwellers caregivers of disabled people: of course you may find aspects of the job (i use the term broadly to include taking care of loved ones) difficult. that's understandable and you deserve support with that. but there's one person you shouldn't necessarily share that with, and that's the person you're assisting. if you're having difficulty with a task and need to discuss a different way to do it, for example, that's one thing. i'm talking about complaining about how hard something is when it can't be changed or you don't intend to change it, or even joking about how hard various tasks are. my aides sometimes joke about how difficult certain tasks are, and i totally understand where they're coming from and that they mean no harm. but it make me self conscious about asking them to do those tasks in future when i know they struggle with them. and believe me, it's already hard enough to ask for help. i'm not asking anything unreasonable or outside the bounds of the job so it just makes me feel bad needlessly.

neuroticboyfriend A lot of the time when professionals interact with psychotic people, they try to reduce our distress by getting us to stop believing things. For me, that only made things worse. It was confusing and distressing. I felt angry, scared, and misunderstood. The best way I've found to cope with delusional thinking is something I discovered on my own. I'll give an example here so, huge TW for unreality and paranoia. Scroll away if you're not able to hear delusional thinking. Yesterday I started freaking out thinking people could hear my thoughts. This is something I've occasionally experienced since I was a child. When this comes up, I always think there's some massive conspiracy, where everyone can hear my thoughts but they react to me as if they don't hear anything. And they're all in on it. This time, it was triggered by intrusive thoughts that I started judging myself for. As you can imagine, this is distressing. I started talking to people through my mind, which only made it worse. I couldn't focus on what was happening around me. What I did to reduce that distress is.. weirdly nonchalant. I just sat there and thought "Well, if this is true, it's not like they're going to change how they interact with me. Everything is the same as it was. Nothing I can do about it, might as well just keep on keeping on." That calmed me down enough to start focusing on what I was doing, and eventually completely forget about it until now. Whenever I try to treat my delusional thinking as something I have to stop immediately... it literally only makes my mind double down. But if I work within what I believe - what I "know" - I can find another way to look at it that isn't so scary. This works with my hallucinations, too. I sometimes see shadow people; they're more like jump scares than anything. They startle me, and I start to wonder if people I'm looking at are real. But that latter part only really happens if I get fearful of them. To avoid that fear, I try to think of the shadow people as just friends watching over me, checking in. They don't do anything, after all. They just pop up, stand there, and disappear. (Talk of unreality ends here) So, yeah. This doesn't work for everyone, and it doesn't always work for me depending on what I'm experiencing/how I'm feeling. But without this, I'd be far worse off; it doesn't take too many missteps for me to spiral. I guess my point is, my reality doesn't have to be "normal" for me to be healthy as a schizophrenic person. It just has to be something I can live with, as happily and safely as possible. And that's ok. Neurodivergent people are allowed to exist, and some people are helped best by finding ways for them to exist as they are without so much distress - rather than trying to eliminate troubling symptoms entirely.

people have accused you of lying about your trauma (including claims you’re exaggerating), and you think your trauma isn’t that bad: it is. it’s bad enough regardless of if people accused you of lying, but the reason i say this is to point out to you… if it wasn’t that bad, why would you be lying? what would there be to lie about if it was normal that that happened? people accused you of lying because they refused to accept or believe that something like that happened - happened to you.

DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procedure, get to meet the physician and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procedure, look up the physician and/or the clinic website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procedure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc.

neuroticboyfriend Hey, real quick, go bury your face in something soft. A stuffed animal. A plush blanket. A pillow. Your pet. Your favorite shirt or hoodie. Do it. Was it comforting, even in the slightest? If not, well, you tried. Either way, remember that the little things can bring you goodness, and all those little things will add up. They may not overshadow all the bad, but it certainly does help. You may never be truly comfortable, but odds are, there's something around you that can give you some comfort. And that's a lot better than nothing.

Please use discretion and don’t do something that will trigger you further, including triggering trauma or sensory issues! Aggressive activities (Adrenaline-focused): Do not use sharp objects if you can’t trust yourself around them in that moment. Tear apart paper or napkins Cut up boxes, plastic, or paper Stab boxes or foam Angrily scribble Throw rocks at the ground Scream into a pillow, or punch it Passive activities (Adrenaline-focused): Watch something scary (scary game, thriller movie) Watch someone get angry (Youtube react videos, gamer rage) Watch an action movie Watch a fails video compilation Sensory grounding Hold an ice cube or splash cold water on your face - take a cold shower if you’re really feeling it Smell a strong scent, even an unpleasant one Have a nice warm or cool drink Any kind of strong pressure that won’t injure (weighted blanket, cuddle with your dog) Listen to music or white noise Use a heating pad or take a warm shower/bath Creative outlets: (if you need the similarity, use red ink) Draw on yourself or body paint Do SFX makeup Finger paint Journal about your feelings honestly, even if they’re negative Make a moodboard

Your Warranty Has Now Expired by Butterfrogmantis Cartoons » SpongeBob SquarePants "Stand down Krabs! Or prepare to meet your doom!" "Yeah right , yer'll never get yer hands on me secret formula!" "My little friend here says otherwise, eheheh! Now hand over the formula Krabs and no- one gets hurt!" Plankton was holding a large ray gun. "I can already smell the patties! COME TO PAPA" He yelled, pressing the trigger. Nothing. He pressed again. Hm, Maybe something was broken? He shook the gun, then aimed it back at the safe and hit release. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. "BARNACLES" He screeched, and squeezed the trigger as hard as he could.. Plankton next woke up in the hospital. "Whaah?" He was aware of a small heart monitor next to him, and the overpowering scent of disinfectant. There was a squeaking trolley moving down the hall, and a slight murmuring from either side of his white curtains. He looked to the left, and then to the right, confused. He had JUST been in the Krusty Krab, hadn't he? Yes, he was trying to melt the safe, so what on earth was he doing in here, he'd been seconds away from blasting the door off of that thing. Ah yes, his ray gun had jammed. Weird. Hadn't done that before. He tapped the side of his head, trying to see if he recalled anything other than pulling the trigger, but his memory was patchy at best. "Sheldon? Oh good, you're alive!" The microorganism looked up to see a very familiar face. Well, screen at the very least. "Ah, Karen! My computer wife – tell me, uh, what happened?" "You exploded, that's what happened. Well, your gun did anyway, I thought you'd died!" "Hm, weird, my trusty old laser shouldn't have gone like that, especially not when I was so CLOSE to getting the secret formula!" He cursed, causing his heart rate monitor to speed up rapidly next to him. Later that evening, once Plankton had been thoroughly checked and confirmed ready for discharge by Nurse Daisy Bazooka, the two returned to the Chum Bucket. The same night, he dreamt about the day. And to think, just like his laser gun, it had all started with the same- "Wires!" Plankton sat up in bed, having been woken up by his thoughts. "Sheldon? What are you doing up at this time? Your left antenna's been twitching ever since I brought you home from the hospital. It only twitches like that when you're stressed or thinking reallll hard about something." "It does?" Plankton blinked, looking up at his own antenna, which was twitching rapidly. "Huh, I wonder why I never noticed". He rubbed his head to get over his daze and turned with a groan to see a familiar yellow sponge bounding up to them from across the other side of the street. He was holding a large balloon. "Hello Karen, Hello Plankton – sorry about your laser the other day." The two of them turned to look out of the window and across the street, to where the sign for the Krusty Krab had just turned from 'closed' to 'open'. "Shall we?" Sheldon grinned a most delighted grin. https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13876443/1/Your-Warranty-Has-Now-Expired

🧪 || ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃᶰᵈˢˑ || ‎‍🧪

#🧪 || ᵒᶰˡʸ ᵃᵍᵍʳᵉˢˢᶤᵛᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᵠᵘᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈᵎ || ‎‍🧪

ᴴᵒᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ⁱˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃⁱˡ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˡˡ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁿⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵉˡˡˢ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᴳᵃʳʸ‧‧‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ‽" ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᴵ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵘʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴺᵉˢᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵘʳˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵒᵘᵗˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ!" ᴳᵃʳʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱʳ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵐᵃʸ ᵒʳ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ "ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʰᵉʳᵒᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵍᵘʸˢ‧‧‧" ᵂʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳ ᵐᵉʳᵐᵃⁱᵈ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵃᶜˡᵉ ᵇᵒʸ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵃ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉʳᵒᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ʳᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵃᵗⁱᵗᵘᵈᵉ ᵒʳ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᵃ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ!

🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻 🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟥🟥🟥⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩⬛⬛🟥🟩🟩🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥⬛⬛🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟩🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥⬛⬛🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩⬛⬛🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🟧🏻🏻⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻⬛⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🟧🟧🟧🏻⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🟧🟧🟧🏻🏻⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩⬛🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🟧🏻🏻🏻⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🏻🏻 🏻⬛⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟩🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛🟩⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬛🟩🟩⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥⬛⬛🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥⬛🏽🏽⬛⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥⬛🏽⬛⬛⬜⬜⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥⬛⬛⬜⬜⬛⬛🟩⬛🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥⬛⬜⬛⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛⬜⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩⬛⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬛🟩⬛🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🏻🏻 🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻⬛⬛⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻⬛🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻 🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻

⣾⠿⣦⣠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣄⣴⠿⣷ ⢹⣷⣿⠿⣧⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⠿⣿⣾⡏ ⠈⠋⢻⣶⣿⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣶⡟⠙⠁ ⠀⠀⠘⢿⣧⣬⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣥⣼⡿⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢾⣿⡟⠙⣷⡀⣀⣀⢀⣾⠋⢻⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⡶⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⢶⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠋⢀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣴⣦⠀⠙⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢻⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣾⣷⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣾⡏⠉⢹⣿⣿⡏⠉⢹⣷⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠸⣧⠀⠘⠻⠟⠃⠀⣼⠇⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠙⢷⣦⣤⣤⣴⡾⠋⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡇⠐⠟⠙⠷⢶⣦⣤⣤⣶⠶⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀

🍵🥗🥑🌿

⋆˙⟡♡⚕🩺⊹ 🤍

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠈⢄⠀⠀⣄⢀⣾⡿⠋⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⢠⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣨⣿⠿⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣎⢸⣿⡿⠳⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⢠⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⢋⣿⣿⠉⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠺⢷⣿⣿⣥⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠁⣾⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠂⣼⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠿⠀⣼⣿⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠏⢸⣿⣿⠁⠃⠀⠀⠀⠸⠁⣼⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢀⣾⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣸⣿⣿⣠⣄⣀⣀⡀⠀⢰⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡶⠶⠛⠋⠛⠛⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠛⢿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠟⠁⠀⣾⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣄⠀⠘⣷⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣦⣄⣀⣀⣀⣤⣶⣿⡿⠇⠀⠹⣧⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣶⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⢷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡆⢰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠠⠤⣄⠀⠀⠀⣠⠶⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢸⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠋⢁⣿⠅⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠘⢯⣷⣾⣃⣀⣹⣯⣭⣭⣯⣭⣝⣓⣐⡀⢷⡀⠈⣿⣷⣼⠀⠀⡆⡯⡿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠃⠀⠀⠀⢨⣷⡄⠈⣿⡦⠤⠤⠤⠼⠷⠾⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢼⣿⠇⢀⡿⠁⠀⠀⢠⣷⡷⣟⣿⣶ ⠀⠀⢀⠀⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢿⠀⢹⠙⢧⣀⠀⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⢀⣤⠞⠃⠀⣽⠇⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣟⠻⣿⠋ ⠀⠠⠚⢰⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠓⠒⠶⠶⠒⢛⣡⠄⠀⠀⣸⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢸⡏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⢶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠒⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢸⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣌⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣯⣄⣀⣠⣄⣄⣄⣀⣠⡿⣸⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠿⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠾⠏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⢁⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠏⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⡟⢸⡇⢠⢴⣶⣶⠈⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⡆⠀⡇⢸⣧⣿⢀⣿⡟⡆⣿⣿⡙⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢀⣠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠀⠐⣷⢿⣻⣿⠾⠏⠀⠈⢾⣿⣿⡙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠻⠄⢀⣿⡶⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⣯⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣦⡙⣦⣄⡛⠛⠛⠛⢛⣛⣵⠾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢮⡳⣍⠙⠓⢮⣽⣉⣙⣋⣹⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣬⣛⠶⢤⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣧⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠻⠶⠧⠼⠬⠯⢽⣿⣿⣮⣿⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⡺⣷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⡏⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣎⠻⣿⡗⠶⠒⢦⡄⠀⠀⠀⣴⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠀⣠⡮⣭⣭⣭⡤⠴⢶⣛⡿⠤⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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

⋆₊‧꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ଳ.𖥔 ݁ ˖

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 7 (Autistic author) They sit in silence for a moment, the hum of the Chum Bucket's systems the only sound. Then Plankton's eye lights up. "Idea," he says, his voice a sudden burst of static. "Make something with Karen. Together." Karen's screens blink with excitement. "That sounds wonderful," she beeps. "What do you want to make?" But before Plankton can formulate a response, Patrick Star bursts in. "Karen!" he booms, his voice shaking the walls. "I want chum!" Plankton's eye darts to the door, the sensory assault starting again. "Patrick," he whispers, his body tense as a bowstring. Karen's screens quickly assess the situation. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "Not now." But Patrick's enthusiasm can't be dampened so easily. He bounds over to the table, his star-shaped body bouncing. "Chum, chum, chum!" he sings, oblivious to Plankton's distress. Karen's screens flicker with annoyance, but she keeps her voice steady. "Patrick, not now," she repeats. "Plankton's not feeling well." Patrick's starry eyes widen. "Oh, sorry, buddy," he says, his voice dropping an octave. He looks at Plankton with concern. "What's wrong?" He asks, poking Plankton. Plankton jumps, his senses on high alert. The poke feels like a battering ram, and he lets out a squeak of pain. Patrick's hand retracts quickly, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. "Whoa, sorry," he says. "What's with you?" Karen's screens flicker with frustration. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "I'll go make you chum." Patrick nods, his concern forgotten in the face of his hunger. "Okay, thanks, Karen," he says, his voice bouncing with excitement. She retreats leaving Plankton alone with Patrick in the living room. Patrick stares at Plankton for a moment, his expression a blend of curiosity and confusion. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. Plankton's eye flutters closed, his body trying to absorb the sudden intensity of the interaction. "Take your time," he whispers to himself, his mantra a shield against the overwhelming world. Patrick, ever the innocent, watches him with a puzzled frown. "What's 'Take your time'?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. Plankton opens his eye, looking at the simplicity of Patrick's face. He scoots away. Patrick, unfazed, advances, his hand outstretched. "What's up?" he asks, poking again. The sensation of Patrick's touch is like a thousand needle pricks. Plankton yelps. Patrick, not comprehending, pokes again, his starry eyes full of innocent wonder. "Why so jumpy?" he asks, his voice a deep rumble. Plankton's body tenses with each poke, the sensation like a barrage of tiny explosions. "Patrick, please," he gasps, his voice a frantic static. But Patrick, ever the simple starfish, doesn't understand. He keeps poking, his curiosity growing. "Why?" he asks, his voice a gentle boom. "You're always so bouncy." Plankton's eye twitches with each touch. "Patrick, no," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. But Patrick, lost in his own world, doesn't notice. He giggles, poking him again. "You're like a pin cushion!" he exclaims, his voice a deep chuckle. Plankton's eye squeezes shut, his body wracked with pain. "Patrick, please," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. Patrick doesn't seem to comprehend the distress he's causing. He keeps poking, his laughter echoing through the room, each poke sending shockwaves of pain through Plankton's body. "You're like a squeaky toy," he says, his voice a delighted rumble. Plankton's body twitches with each touch, his voice a desperate buzz of static. "Patrick, please stop," he begs, his voice a high-pitched squeak. But Patrick's simple mind doesn't register the pain he's causing. He keeps poking, his laughter growing louder. "You're so funny!" he bellowed, his starry hands moving like a jackhammer as he starts tickling him. Plankton's body spasms with each touch, his voice a desperate symphony of static. "Patrick, stop!" he pleads, his breathing quick and shallow. But Patrick, in his blissful ignorance, only laughs harder, his massive hands poking and tickling without mercy. "You're hilarious, tiny dude!" he bellows. Plankton's body is a storm of sensory overload, his voice a high-pitched wail of static. "Patrick, please!" he begs, his limbs flailing. Patrick's laughter fills the room like a tidal wave, crashing over Plankton's desperate pleas. "You're so much fun, Planky!" he booms, his hands moving in a blur of star-shaped shadows. Plankton's body jerks uncontrollably, his screams of "No, no, no!" lost in the cacophony of Patrick's laughter. His tiny limbs flail, trying to escape the relentless onslaught of pokes and tickles. Patrick, his eyes wide with delight, doesn't see the tears forming in Plankton's eye. He just keeps poking, tickling, and laughing, oblivious to the damage he's doing. Plankton's cries escalate into a frantic symphony of squeaks and static, his body contorting in a desperate attempt to evade the starfish's torment. The room spins around him, a whirlpool of pain and sensation that threatens to swallow him whole. Patrick, his face a picture of delighted confusion, keeps poking and tickling, his laughter booming like thunder underwater. "What's the matter, little buddy?" he asks between chuckles. Plankton's body convulses with each touch, sobbing as Karen finally emerges with Patrick's chum. She sees them both on the floor. "Patrick, what are you doing?" she beeps, her voice a mix of anger and concern. But Patrick is lost in his own world of mirth, not hearing Karen's plea. "Just having some fun," he says, his voice a deep rumble of laughter. Plankton's cries become more frantic, his voice a high-pitched siren of despair. Karen quickly assesses the situation, her screens flaring with urgency. "Patrick, stop!" she beeps, her voice a sharp alarm. "You're hurting Plankton!" Patrick's laughter abruptly halts, his starry eyes blinking in surprise. He looks down at his hands, still poised to poke Plankton again. "What?" he asks, his voice a confused rumble. "But we're just playing." Karen's screens flicker with frustration. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "Look at Plankton. He's in pain." Patrick's starry gaze shifts to Plankton, his expression shifting to one of bewilderment. "Pain?" he repeats, his voice a confused rumble. "But we're just playing." Karen gives Patrick the food, showing him out the door.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 10 (Autistic author) Ignorant of Plankton's neurodivergence, Sandy doesn't realize that her persistent questions are adding to his overwhelm. She leans closer, her face a canvas of concern. "Look at me, Plankton," she says, her voice strained as she grabs his shoulder. Plankton's antennae twitch in agitation, his single eye snapping up to meet hers. The touch feels like a brand, his senses on fire. "Words," he murmurs, his voice a desperate static, trying to return to the safety of the word search. But Sandy's grip is firm, her gaze intense. "Look at me, Plankton," she says, her voice a persistent hum. She doesn't understand the distress she's causing, her intentions pure but misguided. So she turns him using both of her hands to squeeze his arms. The sudden pressure sends waves of pain coursing through his tiny body, his voice a piercing squeal of static. "No, no," he whispers, but she only holds tighter. Her touch feels like a vice, her voice a relentless buzz in his ear. "What's going on?" she repeats, her grip unyielding. Plankton's eye widens with fear, his voice a desperate static. "No, Sandy, please," he whispers, his body trying to shrink away from the contact. But she doesn't understand, her eyes searching his for answers. "Just answer me! You're not getting the book until you decide to have a conversation!" The pain in his arms spikes, the pressure unbearable. His voice cracks like a whip. "Can't," he gasps, his breath quick and shallow. "Too much." Sandy's grip doesn't lessen. "Why not?" she asks, her voice a stubborn hum. "You're okay." The room feels like it's closing in on him, the sensation of her touch like a million tiny saws against his skin. He tries to pull away, his voice a frantic static. "Too much," he whispers, his breathing quick and erratic. "Need words, not touch." But Sandy's grip doesn't loosen. She's determined to get his attention. "Look at me then," she insists, her voice a firm hum. "I'm right here." Plankton's eye flutters with the effort to focus on her face. The sensory assault of her touch and her persistent voice is like a whirlpool threatening to pull him under. "No," he whispers, his voice a fragile static. "Please." "Talk. To. Me!" She says as she pulls him closer to her. Plankton's eye bulges with the effort of not looking away. The room is spinning, his senses are on fire. Karen's screens flicker with alarm, picking up on his distress. "Sandy," she beeps, her voice a warning siren. "Let go of his arms." Sandy's grip tightens, not comprehending the harm she's causing. "But he's not answering me!" she protests, her voice a confused trill. "Because until I get an answer..." Karen's screens blaze with a mix of frustration and fear. "Sandy, you're hurting him," she beeps, her voice a sharp warning. Sandy's grip doesn't waver. She doesn't understand the severity of the situation. Her eyes are wide, her expression a mask of confusion. "What's wrong with you!" she asks Plankton. "I JUST..." "Sandy, stop!" Karen beeps, her voice a piercing alarm. "You're causing him pain!" Sandy's grip finally loosens, her hands retreating from Plankton's arms. She stares at him, her expression a storm of confusion and concern as Plankton's tiny body slumps. "What's wrong with you?" she asks again, her voice a gentle hum of bewilderment. Plankton's body quivers like a leaf, his eye squeezed shut against the onslaught of emotions. "Can't..." Sandy's face is a canvas of confusion, her hands hovering over him like a lost diver searching for the surface. "But why?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton's body is a taut bowstring, each breath a struggle. He tries to find the words to explain, his voice a static whisper. "Too much," he says, his eye still tightly shut. "It's too much." Sandy's gaze softens, her confusion giving way to concern. She doesn't understand, but she can see his pain. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice a gentle breeze. Plankton takes a shaky breath, his body still reeling from the overstimulation. He opens his eye, looking at her. "Say no, Sandy." Sandy's gaze is steady, her voice a soft hum. "No?" she asks, her eyes searching his for answers. But he won't elaborate. Karen's screens flicker with frustration. She knows Sandy means well, but her lack of understanding is causing more harm than good. "Sandy, Plankton's going through something new," she explains, her voice a calm beep. "He's sensitive to touch and sounds right now." Sandy's eyes widen, the realization dawning. "Oh," she says, her voice a soft trill of understanding. "I didn't know." She sits back, giving him space. "Words," he whispers, his voice a sob. "Words." Sandy nods, her confusion replaced with empathy. "Okay, let's stick to words," she says, her voice a gentle rumble. She picks up the word search book, holding it out to him like a peace offering. "Words," he whimpers. Plankton takes the book, his antennae drooping. He finds comfort in the predictability of the letters and the structure of the puzzle, the words becoming a lifeline in a sea of chaos. He begins to scan the page again, his breathing slowing. Sandy watches him, her heart heavy with regret. She had no idea her actions could cause so much pain. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a sincere hum. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Plankton." "Words," he murmurs. Sandy nods, her eyes reflecting genuine apology. "It's okay," she whispers. "We'll just stick to words." Karen's screens flicker with relief, seeing Plankton's body slowly relax. "Thank you, Sandy," she beeps, her voice a warm hum of gratitude. Sandy nods, her expression earnest. "I'm here to help," she says, her voice a comforting trill. She looks at Plankton, her eyes filled with concern. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, his body still tense. "Words, words." Sandy nods, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What happened to make you like this, Plankton?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. He takes a deep shuddering breath as tears start to form in his eye. "Mmm," he hums, hugging his knees. Sandy's gaze is intense, her curiosity piqued. "What happened, Plankton?" she asks, her voice a soft trill of concern. "Hmmm," Plankton hums as he rocks, now crying. Sandy's eyes are wide with worry, her voice a gentle hum. "Hey, what's going on?" she asks, looking for answers. "Hmmmm..." Plankton keeps humming, sniffling in between hums. Karen decides to intervene. "Sandy," Karen beeps firmly, her screens flashing with concern. "Let's give Plankton some space." Sandy nods, her expression a mix of apology and confusion. She takes a step back, her gaze never leaving Plankton's shaking form. "I didn't know," she whispers, her voice a soft rumble of regret. "It's okay," Karen beeps, her voice a comforting hum. "We're all learning." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's shaking form. "But what happened?" she asks again, her voice a gentle trill of concern. Plankton's body is a tiny storm, his sobs quaking through his tiny frame. Karen's screen pulse with sympathy. "Sandy," she beeps, her voice a calm wave. "Let's talk outside." Sandy nods, her eyes filled with worry.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 6 (Autistic author) Karen watches him, her screens a flurry of analysis. "How does it taste?" she asks, her voice a hopeful beep. Plankton pauses, his expression unreadable. "Tastes," he murmurs. "Good. Toast good." Karen nods, her screens reflecting relief. "Good," she echoes. "Now, let's make a plan for the day." Plankton's gaze remains fixed on his half-eaten toast, his mind still reeling from the sensory assault. "Plan," he repeats, his voice a soft static. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "We'll start small," she beeps, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just get through today, okay?" But as soon as her hand touches him, Plankton flinches. The sensation is like a thousand jellyfish stings, and he jerks away. "What's wrong?" Karen asks, her screens flickering with worry. Plankton's eye widens, his hand going to his shoulder where she touched him. He starts to repeat the phrase again, "Take your time," but his voice is overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of his senses. "Too much," he whispers, his body trembling. Karen quickly withdraws her hand, her screens flickering with concern. "I'm sorry," she beeps, her voice gentle. "Let's try something else." Plankton nods, his hand still on his shoulder, his body slowly calming. "Okay," he whispers. "Not tap. Karen can rub. Hug from Plankton. Not jab. Not poke." Karen's screens flicker with a new understanding of his needs. She moves closer, her hand hovering over his shoulder before gently placing it there, her fingers tracing small circles in a rhythmic pattern. The contact is soothing, not overwhelming. "Is this better?" she asks, her voice a gentle beep. Plankton nods, his body visibly relaxing. "Good," he murmurs, his voice a quiet static. "Rub, rub." He starts to mimic her motion with his other hand, creating a mirrored pattern on his opposite shoulder. The repetition seems to calm him, the rhythm a gentle lullaby for his frazzled mind. Karen's screens analyze his reaction, storing the information for future reference. "Okay," she says, her voice a soft beep. "We'll stick to gentle touches." With a nod, Plankton begins to breathe more evenly. The sensation of the rubbing calms him, like a gentle tide washing over him. "We'll start with simple tasks," Karen beeps, her voice a reassuring melody. "Things that won't overstimulate you." Plankton nods, his hands now resting on the table. "Okay," he says, his voice a steady static. "Simple." Karen's screens glow with a soft light as she considers their options. "How about we start with something you love?" she suggests. "Like working on the Krabby Patty formula?" But Plankton shakes his head, the very mention of the Krabby Patty causing his body to tense up again. "No," he whispers, his voice a harsh static. "Not formula. No more steal." Karen's screens flicker with surprise. "You don't want to work on the formula?" Plankton shakes his head again, his voice barely audible. "No more steal," he repeats. Karen's screens process his words, his change in attitude unexpected. "You don't want to steal the Krabby Patty formula anymore?" Plankton's eye blinks slowly. "No," he says, his voice a solemn beep. "New plan. Make Plankton happy." Karen's screens blink rapidly, trying to comprehend his shift in focus. "Okay," she says, her voice a thoughtful hum. "What makes you happy, Plankton?" He looks up, his expression pensive. "Karen," he says, his voice a weak static. "Love Karen." Karen's screens freeze for a moment, before lighting up with understanding. "You love me?" she beeps, her voice a surprised chime. Plankton nods, his face a mask of seriousness. "Yes," he murmurs. "Love Karen." Karen's screens flicker with a mix of emotions she's never felt before. Love is a concept her programming doesn't fully grasp, but she knows it's important to Plankton. "Thank you," she says, her voice a warm beep. "But we still need to find something for you to do, something that won't be too much for your sensory processing." Plankton nods, his thoughts racing. "Help," he whispers. "Help Karen." Karen's screens flicker with love and determination. "Of course," she says, her voice a warm beep. "We'll find something you enjoy. Maybe we can start with something that doesn't involve the Krabby Patty." Plankton's expression softens, his trembling hands coming to rest on the table. "No more fighting," he murmurs. "Peace." Karen nods, her screens reflecting a deep sadness she's never expressed before. "Okay," she beeps. "We'll find something that brings you joy."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 5 (Autistic author) The next morning, Karen wakes up to find Plankton out of bed. He's standing in the middle of the room, his eye focused on the spinning fans of the air conditioner. Karen's screens light up with concern as she assesses his state. "Plankton," she beeps gently. "How did you sleep?" Plankton's eye doesn't move from the hypnotic spin of the fans. "Fan spin," he says, his voice a monotone. Karen's screens blink, trying to understand his single-word reply. "The fans are spinning?" she asks, hoping to engage him. Plankton nods slowly, his gaze unwavering. "Spin, spin, spin," he murmurs. Karen's screens flicker. "Karen," Plankton says. "Fan spin." "The spinning is soothing to you?" she asks. Plankton nods, his voice a faint echo. "Spin, spin, spin. Good spin." Karen's screens process the information, formulating a new approach. "Let's go downstairs," she suggests, her voice a gentle beep. "We'll start with a simple routine. Breakfast." Plankton nods, his gaze still fixed on the fans. With a final nod to the spinning blades, he follows her out of the bedroom. The journey downstairs is a minefield of sounds and sights, but he takes it step by step, his hand gripping the railing tightly. The kitchen is a blur of colors and noises, but Karen's calm voice guides him through it all. "First," she beeps, "let's start with something easy. How about a glass of water?" Plankton nods, his movements still mechanical. He watches as she fills a glass, the water's surface dancing in the light. It's mesmerizing, and for a moment, the world stops spinning. He takes the glass, his trembling hand bringing it to his lips, the cool liquid sliding down his throat. "Water," he murmurs. "Good, water." The simple task seems to ground him a bit, and Karen takes note of the small victory. "Now, let's try some toast," she says, her voice a comforting beep. She slides a piece of bread into the toaster, the sound of the lever clicking into place another beat in the rhythm of their morning. Plankton nods, his attention drawn to the toaster's glowing coils. He watches, his eye widening as the bread turns golden brown. The smell fills the room, a comforting scent that penetrates the fog in his head. "Toast," he says, his voice a bit stronger. But as the toaster pops, the sudden noise jolts him like an electric shock. "Too loud," he whispers, his eye darting around the room in panic. Karen's screens flicker with empathy. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a soothing hum. She quickly retrieves the toast, placing it gently on a plate. "Let's sit down," she suggests, guiding him to the table. "Take it slow." They sit, and Plankton fidgets in his chair, his eye darting around the room. "Take your time," Karen reminds him, her voice a steady beep. He nods, focusing on the toast. Each bite is a tiny triumph, his senses adjusting to the new world. The crunch of the bread, the warmth on his tongue, the smell of the butter spreading. It's overwhelming, but he's making progress.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 8 (Autistic author) With Patrick gone, the room feels eerily quiet. Plankton lies on the floor, his body heaving with sobs. Each breath is a battle, a reminder of the pain still echoing through his body. Karen's screens flicker with a mix of frustration and sadness. "I'm sorry," she beeps, her voice a soft hum. She rolls over to him, her mechanical arms extending to offer comfort. "I didn't know he'd do that." Plankton's body shakes with sobs, his single eye squeezed shut. He whispers, "No more poking, Karen. No more." Karen's screens flicker with regret. "I'm so sorry, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle beep. She reaches out with one of her arms, carefully placing it around his tiny frame. "Let's get you up," she suggests, her movements slow and deliberate. With her help, Plankton manages to stand, his legs shaking like seaweed in a storm. She leads him to the couch. "Rest," she beeps, but he's too exhausted to respond. Karen sits beside him, her screens dimming as she watches him. The silence is a soothing balm to his frayed nerves, the hum of the Chum Bucket's systems a lullaby compared to the chaos of Patrick's laughter. "Karen," he whispers after a moment, his voice a weak static. Her screens light up with concern. "Yes, Plankton?" she beeps. "Plankton not want to go back to how it was," he whispers, his voice a fragile thread. "The stealing, the fighting." Karen's screens flicker with a sadness she rarely shows. "I know," she drapes a blanket over him, tucking him in. Her voice is a soothing beep. "You don't have to, Plankton. We'll find a new way." She caresses his shaky hand. Plankton nods, his eye finally closing in relief. The warmth of the blanket and Karen's gentle touch offer a semblance of calm in the storm of sensory overload, his crying slowing. "Thank Karen," he murmurs, his voice a tired static as he squeezes her hand once. Her screens glow with affection. "You're welcome, Plankton," she beeps. "Rest now." She dims the lights once more, watching over him as she held his hand. Plankton's body finally stills, the storm of sensations receding as he surrenders to sleep. Karen's screens flicker with a quiet relief. She sits beside him.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 11 (Autistic author) As they leave the room, Plankton's sobs slowly ease, the word search book clutched to his chest like a talisman. The gentle hum of Karen's wheels fading with distance, he focuses on the patterns of light reflecting off the pages. In the hallway, Karen beeps with urgency. "Sandy, Plankton's been through a lot," she explains. "He's neurodivergent now. He can't handle touch like he used to, and his senses are heightened." Sandy's eyes widen with surprise. "What does that mean?" she asks, her voice a confused rumble. Karen's screens flicker with patience. "It means his brain functions differently now," she beeps. "He's extra sensitive to stimuli, and certain things that were normal before can now be painful or overwhelming for him." Sandy's gaze softens with understanding. "Oh," she says, her voice a quiet rumble. "I had no idea." She looks back at Plankton's closed door, guilt heavy in her eyes. "What can we do?" Karen's screens flicker with thought. "We need to be patient and learn," she beeps. "Adapt to his new needs, and support him in his journey." Sandy nods, determined to make it right. "How?" she asks, her voice a hopeful trill. "We start by respecting his boundaries," Karen explains, her screens glowing with sincerity. "No touching unless he asks for it. And we speak softly, giving him time to process what we say." Sandy nods, absorbing the new information. "I can do that," she says, her voice a gentle hum. "But what about playing?" "Quiet games, like word searches or board games. No roughhousing or poking. I'm gonna go rest." Sandy goes back to see Plankton, his muffled sobs in the quiet space. Sandy's heart aches with regret. "I'm sorry, Plankton," she says, her voice a tender trill. She sits beside his shaking form, her hand hovering over his shoulder before thinking better of it. Plankton's sobs slow, his body still tense. He opens his eye, looking at Sandy. "Words," he whispers, holding up the book. Sandy nods, her gaze gentle. "Words it is," she says, her voice a comforting hum. She sits beside him on the couch, careful not to touch his skin as she opens the book to the next puzzle. "What's this word?" she asks, her finger pointing to the list. Plankton's eye locks onto the word. "Kelp," he murmurs, his voice a soft static. He traces the letters in the grid, writing it in the crossword puzzle. Sandy nods, her eyes focused on the puzzle. "Good job," she says, her voice a gentle hum. "You're so smart." Plankton's antennae twitch with a hint of pride, his breathing evening out. "Words," he repeats, his voice a steady static. Sandy nods, understanding. "Words are important to you now," she says, her voice a soft rumble of support. "We'll find more puzzles." "We'll find more puzzles?" Plankton repeats. Sandy nods, her face a picture of sincerity. "Yes," she says, her voice a warm trill. "As many as you want." Plankton's antennae perk up slightly, his interest piqued. "More words?" Sandy's smile is a warm glow, her voice a gentle rumble of agreement. "As many as you want, buddy." Plankton's single eye brightens at the promise, his body slowly uncoiling from his protective ball. "Book," he whispers, his voice a soft static. He points to the next word. "Find." Sandy nods, her finger moving to the list. "Okay, we're looking for 'favorite food of sea horses,'" she says, her voice a comforting hum. Plankton's eye flicks to the grid, his mind racing. "Myr- t-le," he stammers, his voice a crackling static. Sandy's face lights up with a grin. "You got it!" she exclaims, her voice a delighted trill. She watches him trace the letters, her heart swelling with pride. He finds the word quickly, his antennae waving with excitement. "Good job, Plankton!" she says. His body relaxes slightly, his enjoyment of the word search evident. Sandy's voice is soothing as they continue through the puzzles, her hands resting carefully on her knees. "What's this one?" she asks, pointing to another word. Plankton's eye scans the list, his antennae quivering with anticipation. "J-J-Jellyfish," he stammers, his voice a nervous static. The word brings back memories of his buddy, SpongeBob. Sandy nods, her smile gentle. "You got it," she says, her voice a comforting hum. She points to the grid. "Where is it?" Plankton's antennae twitch with excitement as he searches the letters, his single eye darting back and forth. "It," he whispers, his voice a focused static as he points to the word hidden within the puzzle. Sandy's grin spreads, her voice a warm melody. "Great job!" she praises, her thumbs up in the air. Plankton's antennae quiver with happiness, his eye lighting up. "More," he whispers, his voice a hopeful static. Sandy nods, her expression earnest. "As many as you want," she says, her voice a warm trill. She opens the book to the next puzzle, her fingers hovering over the page. Plankton's body uncoils further, his interest piqued by the promise of more words. "Find," he whispers, his voice a soft static. He points to the list of words to find. Sandy nods, her face a canvas of understanding. "Alright, what's next?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton's antennae twitch with excitement, his gaze darting over the list. "Treasure," he murmurs, his voice a hopeful static.

⚖️👩🏻‍⚖️🗼

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 9 (Autistic author) The quiet of the room envelops them like a warm sea breeze, the only sound his soft, even breaths. Her grip on his hand tightens slightly, a silent promise to protect and guide him through this new chapter of his life. As her hand strokes his gently in a comforting rhythm, her gal pal, Sandy, unexpectedly comes in through the door. "Mornin'!" she chirps, her cheerful voice piercing the calm. Plankton jolts awake, his eye snapping open like a trapdoor. The sudden shift from sleep to wakefulness is jarring, his heart racing like a tiny engine. "S-Sandy?" he stammers, his voice a static whisper. Sandy's cheerfulness doesn't waver. "Hey there, little buddy!" she says, her voice a sunlit melody. But Plankton's heightened sensitivity turns her greeting into a cacophony. He flinches, his grip on Karen's hand tightening. "It's okay," Karen beeps soothingly, her screens reflecting his distress. Sandy gets a word search book out. "I just got it today!" Plankton's eye, though tired, lights up slightly at the sight of the book. The pages are a calming white with neatly arranged letters, the colors a gentle wash of blue and yellow. "Want to see?" she asks, her voice a warm trill. He nods, his body still tense but his curiosity piqued. Sandy opens the word search book, her fingers tracing the rows and columns with a gentle precision. "Look, Karen," she says, her voice a soft trill. "It's all about science." Plankton's eye, though still wary, is drawn to the page. He scans the words, his brain lighting up with recognition. "Words," he whispers, his voice a steady static as she sets the book down. The sight of the word search grounds him, the predictability of the patterns offering a comforting routine. His breathing slows, the chaos of his senses retreating like the tide. "Find," he says, looking at the index. Sandy's smile is infectious, her enthusiasm for the simple task contagious. "Okay, let's find some words!" she says, her voice a gentle trill. She points to the first puzzle. "How about this one?" Plankton nods, his eye focusing on the page. The challenge of finding words within the grid is a comforting distraction from the sensory overload. "Start," he whispers, his voice a firm static. Sandy nods, her thumbs tucked into the pages to keep their place. "Okay, we're looking for 'jellyfish scientific name,'" she asks, her voice a gentle trill. Plankton's mind latches onto the task, the letters becoming a puzzle to solve. "Medusae," he murmurs, his voice a focused static. Sandy's eyes light up with excitement. "That's right!" she says, her voice a delighted trill. "Good job, Planks!" Plankton feels a small spark of pride, his focus narrowing to the word in question. The world around him fades into the background as he scans the grid. Each letter is a stepping stone in a vast, orderly sea. "Good job," Karen beeps, her screens illuminating with pride. "You're doing great." Plankton nods, his eye locked on the word "medusae" he's just found. The simple act of locating the word in the jumble of letters brings a sense of peace, a respite from the sensory onslaught. He goes to the next when Sandy interrupts his focus. "So, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle hum. "How's your day been?" He can't multitask, which Sandy doesn't notice. Plankton's mind is fully absorbed by the word search, each letter a piece of a puzzle he's eager to solve. Her question hangs in the air, a bubble waiting to pop, but he's too engrossed to respond right away. Finally, he looks up, his gaze shifting from the page to her face. "Day?" he repeats, his voice a confused static. Sandy nods, her expression gentle. "Yeah, how have you been?" Plankton's gaze flits back to the word search, his hand twitching to point out the next word. "Words," he says, his voice a focused static. "Words." But frustrated Sandy thinks he's just trying to ignore her, and she interrupts him again. "Plankton, I'm talking to you," she says, her voice a gentle nudge. Plankton's single eye darts back to her face, his grip on the word search pencil tightening. "Words," he whispers, his voice a static echo of his thoughts. "Words." He tries to get back to it, but Sandy's not satisfied. "But how are you, Plankton?" she presses, her voice a persistent hum. The word search is a safe haven, but he knows Sandy waits for an answer. He's getting frustrated. He takes a deep breath, his antennae fluttering. "Okay," he whispers, his voice a static sigh. "Tell Sandy." Sandy leans in, her face a picture of concern. "What's going on, Plankton?" she asks, her voice a gentle breeze. He looks back at the word search, the letters blurring slightly. He's tired of being interrupted. "Plankton has words now," he says, his voice a firm static. "Words make happy." Sandy's not sure what he means, but she does want to have a conversation. So, how does she get him to interact?

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 3 (Autistic author) Karen doesn't yet realize the extent of Plankton's distress. She's aware that his moods can swing like the tides, but this seems more than a mere mood swing. "Mr. Krabs," she prompts, trying to keep him on track. "What happened with him?" Plankton's eye widens, and he starts to shiver, his tiny body trembling. "Hit," he whispers. "Hit Plankton hit. Sponge Bob see." Karen's screens flicker, trying to decode his fragmented words. "Mr. Krabs hit you?" He nods, his body still trembling. "Yes, hit Plankton." Karen's screens process the information. "That's not like him," she says, her voice a low hum of concern. "Mr. Krabs can be intense, but he's never..." Her words hang in the air, unfinished, as she tries to make sense of it all. Plankton simply nods, his tremors continuing. "Hit, hit," he whispers again, his voice like a broken record. Oblivious to his new reality, Karen tries to comfort him. "It's okay, Plankton. I'll help you. We'll get through this." Plankton's eye darts around the room, seeing patterns in the wires and circuits that make no sense. "Hit, Sponge Bob, Karen." Karen's screens flicker with confusion. "What do you mean?" Plankton tries to explain, but the words are a jumble in his head. "Sponge Bob...saw...hit." Karen's screens blink, processing his words. "Sponge Bob saw Mr. Krabs hit you?" Plankton nods, his tremors subsiding slightly. "Yes," he whispers. "Sponge Bob see." Karen's digital mind races. Mr. Krabs hitting Plankton wasn't unheard of, but the way he's reacting is unusual. "Did it hurt?" she asks, trying to keep him talking. Plankton's tremors stop for a moment, his eye focusing on her. "Hurt?" he repeats, as if the word is foreign. Then, with a wave of emotion, he nods fervently. "Yes, hurt. Got hurt Plankton felt hurt. Plankton, nothing? Plankton Sponge Bob. Plankton Karen." Karen's screens blink rapidly. Her husband's mental state has never been like this before. The idea of him feeling pain beyond the physical was alien to her programming. "What do you mean, 'Plankton nothing'?" she asks, trying to piece together his scattered thoughts. Plankton sighs, the exhaustion seeping into his voice. "Hit, hurt Plankton. Plankton fading. Plankton find Sponge Bob. Plankton now Karen. Can't stop, can't think. Take your time, take your time." Karen's screens change from confusion to determination. "I'll find Sponge Bob," she says, her voice a firm beep. "You stay here and rest." Plankton nods, his body finally still. The mention of Sponge Bob's name brings a flicker of something to his eye, a glimmer of hope or perhaps desperation. "Find Sponge Bob," he whispers, his voice now a faint echo. "Sponge Bob tell Karen." Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "I will," she says, her voice a soft beep. She leaves the room, her wheels whirring as she exits the Chum Bucket. She goes to Sponge Bob.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 4 (Autistic author) In the dim light of the evening, the Krusty Krab was quiet, the usual bustle replaced by a calm that felt eerie. Sponge Bob was sweeping the floor, his thoughts on Plankton. He looked up as Karen approached, his smile fading at the sight of her concerned expression. "Karen," he began, his spongey voice tinged with anxiety, "I need to tell you what happened to Plankton." Karen's screens brighten with anticipation. "Please do," she beeps, her wheels stopping in front of him. Sponge Bob's eyes dart to the floor, his sponge body drooping slightly. "Mr. Krabs was just trying to protect this formula, and Plankton...he just knocked Plankton in the head. Plankton woke up and then without a word ran back to the Chum Bucket." Karen's screens flicker with the gravity of the situation. "How did Mr. Krabs hit him?" Sponge Bob's grip on the mop tightens. "With a frying pan," he confesses, his eyes wide with guilt. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "That would explain his current state," she murmurs, her voice a steady beep. "Sponge Bob, do you know how badly he's been hurt?" Sponge Bob shakes his head, the guilt washing over him in waves. "No, not really," he says, his voice quavering. Karen's screens flicker with a mix of sympathy and urgency. "I see," she says. "Thanks." With newfound purpose, she spins around and heads back to the Chum Bucket. Back in the control room, Plankton is still rocking back and forth, his hand over his head as if trying to hold his thoughts in place. The door to the Chum Bucket opens, and Karen rolls in, her screens reflecting the urgency of the situation. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft hum, "I talked to Sponge Bob. He saw what happened." Plankton's rocking stops, his eye swiveling to meet hers. "Sponge Bob?" "Yes," Karen says, her screens pulsing with the weight of her words. "He saw Mr. Krabs hit you with the frying pan." Plankton's body goes still, his tremors ceasing instantly. "Sponge Bob saw," he whispers, his voice devoid of emotion. "Tell Karen." "Yes," Karen beeps, nodding her mechanical head. "He told me. I'm going to help you." Without warning, a scanning beam shoots out of Karen's console, enveloping Plankton as his brain is scanned. The results are quickly analyzed, and the screens flash with a series of diagrams and data that even Karen's advanced systems take a moment to digest. "The scan reveals...unusual patterns," she says, her voice a measured beep. Plankton's eye widen with fear, his body tensing as he waits for her verdict. "What does that mean?" he asks, his voice a high-pitched squeak. Karen's screens change to display a 3D image of his brain, the structure illuminated with neon colors. "You've sustained neurodivergence," she explains, her voice a calm beep. "The impact has altered your neural connections, resulting in irreversible autism." Plankton's body goes rigid, his breathing shallow. The word "autism" hangs in the air like a heavy anchor, dragging his spirits down to the murky depths of the ocean floor. "Irreversible?" he whispers, his voice fragile as sea glass. Karen nods gravely. "The good news is, we can adapt. We can learn to navigate this new world of sensations together," she beeps. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed." Plankton nods, his body feeling like it's made of lead. The idea of sleep seems like a welcome escape from the overwhelming day, but as he tries to get up, the room spins again. "Karen," he says, his voice weak. "Can't." With a gentle nudge, Karen helps him to his feet, her wheels moving silently beside him as they make their way to the tiny elevator. The ride up feels like an eternity, his senses heightened to every creak and groan of the metal box. When the doors open, the lights of the hallway are a glaring assault on his eye. He squints, his hand reaching out to the wall for support. In their bedroom, Karen helps him into his bed. The softness of the covers is a stark contrast to the harshness of his new reality. "Take your time," she says, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton nods, his breathing shallow. He closes his eye, and the room seems to fade away, replaced by a whirlpool of swirling thoughts and sensations. Karen's screens flicker with a plan. "Rest," she beeps, her voice a soft comfort. "We'll face tomorrow together." She dims the lights.

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.

ᵀᵒᵒᵗʰ ᴮᵉ ᵀᵒˡᵈ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵐᵘᵐ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ; ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧” ᔆᵒ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ ᵈʳᵒᵖˢ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴴⁱ, ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ’ˢ ᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵘⁿᵈʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱʳᵗʸ ᶠⁱᵛᵉ ᵈᵉᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵖˡᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸ‧ “ᴰᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ, ᴵ’ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ!” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ, ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ? ᔆᵒ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ, ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧” ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃᵗⁱᵉⁿᵗ‧ “ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ?” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ “ᴺᵒʷ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ, ʷᵉ’ᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵒʳ ˡⁱᑫᵘⁱᵈ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᶠᵒʳᵐ?” ᴴᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ? ᴵᵗ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿ…” ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ, ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗˢ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʲᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃⁱᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˢᵃᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿⁱˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁿᵉˢˢ, ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧‧” ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧ “ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ˡᵃᵖ?” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒⁿ‧ “ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?” ᴺᵒʷ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ?” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ, ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧ “ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵘʳᵍᵉʳ?” “ᵁʰ?” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧” ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵖ?” “ʸᵉ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵃᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ “ᴬᵘ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵐᵘˢᵗ’ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵘⁿᵍʳʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ… “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵇᵃᵇʸ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ?” ᴴⁱˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ?” “ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ⁱᶠ…” “ʸᵉˢ, ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!” ᔆᵃʸˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ, ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ‧ “ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᵐᵘᵐ!” ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ, ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ “ᵂʰᵒ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒⁿ ˢʰʳᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ‧ “ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ!” ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ‧ “ᴴⁱ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ʰᵒʷ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ?” “ᴬ ˡⁱˡ‧‧” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ; ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵒᵘᵗ, ⁱᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ, ʷᵒʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧” “ᴵ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ!” ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ “ᴬᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ, ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᵃ ⁿᵘᵐᵇ ʲᵃʷ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵒᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ “ᴬⁿ ᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʸ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ! ᴺᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵘᵈ, ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃᵘᵈⁱᵇˡᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ!” “ᴼʰ, ʰᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧‧” ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ, ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ‧ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟻𝟶𝟶

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 1 (Autistic author) It happened, during another failed attempt at the krabby patty formula. Plankton tried sneaking through the back when Mr. Krabs saw him. "You again!" Mr. Krabs roared, his eyes bulging like a pair of boiled eggs about to pop. "You're not getting it, I'll make sure of that!" With that, Mr. Krabs swung a nearby frying pan with such ferocity that even SpongeBob flinched. Plankton's tiny body was no match for the metallic beast that was hurtling towards him, and the next thing he knew, his world had gone dark. SpongeBob's eyes widened as he watched his boss's arch-nemesis crumble to the ground, the frying pan clattering loudly beside him. The usually boisterous kitchen was now eerily silent, save for the distant hiss of the fryers. Mr. Krabs' chest heaved with each breath, his claws still poised in the air from the swing. "Mr. Krabs!" Sponge Bob squeaked, his spatula frozen mid-air. "Is he okay?" But Mr. Krabs' has retreated to his own office, leaving Sponge Bob with Plankton. Carefully, Sponge Bob prodded him with his spatula. No response. His single, tiny eyelid was closed. After a while, Plankton stirred. His eye fluttered open, but the world was a jumbled mess. The colors were too bright, the noises too loud, the smells too overwhelming. The kitchen of the Krusty Krab, a place he still knew like the back of his tiny hand, was suddenly a chaotic maelstrom of sensory input that his brain couldn't process. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all, but the clanging of pots and pans, the sizzling of the fryers, and the garish neon lights just added to the confusion. SpongeBob's face appeared above him, a mask of worry and concern, his porous expression more complex than anything Plankton had ever seen. "Are you okay?" the sponge asked, his voice a gentle wave lapping against the shore of his newfound reality. Plankton nods, running back home to the Chum Bucket. Plankton's computer wife Karen's no stranger to him coming back upset or wanting space. So as Plankton retreats to his room in the Chum Bucket, she doesn't prompt him. Alone in the bedroom, Plankton intensely stared at the wall, his thoughts racing like a tornado. Everything was different now. The once-familiar world had turned on him, and he couldn't understand why. The lights in the Chum Bucket, usually a comfort, now blazed like the sun in his face. The noises, oh, the noises! They were so loud, so overwhelming, like a cacophony of a million tiny bells ringing in his head. He put his hands over his ears, trying to block them out, but even the softest hum seemed to resonate within his skull. Plankton wasn't sure how to process these new sensations. His brain was on overload, and his body felt like it didn't belong to him anymore. He was aware of every tiny detail in his environment, every speck of dust on the floor, every vibration from the floorboards, and it was all too much. He tried to get up, to find solace in his usual routine, but his legs failed him. They trembled and wobbled like Jell-O on a stormy sea. Plankton fell back onto the bed, feeling the softness of the pillow beneath him and the cool metal of the bed frame against his back. It was then that he noticed the pattern of the wallpaper, the tiny, intricate shapes that danced before his eye. They spun and swirled, forming complex mazes that his mind tried desperately to solve. It was mesmerizing, yet terrifying. He was trapped in a world of overstimulation, and he didn't know how to escape.

ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏ ⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᶤʳᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ʷʰᵒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇˑ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵖᵘᶰᵏᵎ" ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ˢᵃʸˢˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒʷᶰ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ˒ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ ᴴᵉ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃᶰᵗˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʷᶤᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ˒ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈ˒ ᶤᶰ ᵖᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉᶰᶜʸ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜˑ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ʰᵉˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳˑ ᴴᶤˢ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰᶤᵐ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷʰᶤˡˢᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᵃˢ ᵒᶠ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷˑ" ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜᶤᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈˑ ᴱᵛᵉᶰᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈˑ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᵃ ˢᵏᶤᶰᶰʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ᵗᵘᵇᵉ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ˒ ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶰᵒʷ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᵘᵗˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠᶤᶰᶤˢʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ˒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ "ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉˡʸ ᵇᵉ ᵗᶤʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒʳᵉᶰᵉˢˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉˑ ᴬˡˡ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡ˒ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵈᶤˢᵒʳᶤᵉᶰᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵒ ᶰᵒ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒᶰ'ˢ ᴵ ᵐᵉᶰᵗᶤᵒᶰᵉᵈˑ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵃʳᵐᵉᵈ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵗˢ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰˑ" "ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏˢ˒ ᵈᵒᶜˑˑˑ" ˢᵃʸˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˑ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ˒ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ˢᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖˑ "ᴼʰ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ; ᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᶻᶻᶤˡʸ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍˢˀ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ᶤᶰˢᵗᵉᵃᵈˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᶤᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖˑ "ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵒˢᵖᶤᵗᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰˑ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵐᶤᶰᵈˢˑˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈˑ "ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶰᵃᵖˑˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈˑ "ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸˀ" "ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ⁻ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈˑ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ˢʰᶤᶠᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢˑ "ᴺᵒʷ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᶤᶰ ᵇᵉᵈ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵉʳᶤᵒᵈᶤᶜᵃˡˡʸˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʳʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ˒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ "ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰˑ "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ; ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈˑˑ" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵉᵃʳʸˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ "ᴵ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉᶰ ᵃʷᵃʸᵎ" "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡˀ" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃᶜʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᶜˡᵉᵃᶰˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ˡᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˑ "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍᶤˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ˒ ʷᵉˡˡ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵏᶤᵈˑ" "ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈˑ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸˑ" ᴴᵉ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᶤˡˡᵒʷˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃᵈʲᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵇˡᵃᶰᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸˑ "ᴰᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᶤˢ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ʰᶤᵐ ᵈᵒʷᶰˑ "ᑦʰᶤˡˡᵃˣˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶰᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ˒ ˡᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗˢˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʷᵒʳᶰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜ˒ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒʷ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᶤᵈʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒʷ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶰ ᵒᵘᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ᵐᵘˢᵗᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴮʸᵉᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ˒ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᶠˑ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᶰᵒʷ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᶤᶰᵉˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍˑ ˢʰᵉ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵗᵃᵖ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸ ᵒᶰ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶤᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡˑ

Poor X. The lawyer has seemingly been struggling with some kind of chest infection for a while now- it seems like whenever Y passes his office, she can hear him clearing his throat, muffled coughing drifting through the walls as he tries to catch his breath. “I’ll b-be- *wheeze*- f-fine. Just… just need to c-catch my- my breath.” Wiping his mouth, he soon leans back against the bricks. His shallow exhales become steam in the cold air. “I think you might need some stronger cough medicine.” Y murmurs, still rubbing slow circles against his back. “If you want, I could get you some?” His gaze crawls over to hers, dull hope flickering within them. “Y-yeah?” His eyes roll, exhaustion taking over, but a quick tap to the cheek brings him right back, blinking languidly. “M'okay.” He mumbles. “Th-thanks.” Y's hand, still lingering on his cheek, moves to swipe away a sweat-dampened curl from his forehead. “I’m not sure whether ‘okay’ is quite the right word to describe you right now, X… Take a few minutes down here, and then I'll walk you back up to your office, alright? I’m going to tell your assistant- Z, isn't it?- to make sure you get some rest while I fetch you some meds.” X swallows, shaking his head weakly. “I’ll be… I’ll be f- fine.” “I’m the doctor here. Just try to relax for once in your life.” Finally, he sighs, nodding. He's still leaning his head against the brick wall as his eyes fall closed. Y continues to rub his back for a few minutes, a comfortable silence enveloping them. When she looks back at the lawyer beside her, his jaw is slack, lips slightly parted. The quick, shallow breaths of before have slowed and deepened. A small smile creeps onto her face. He's asleep. X starts to lean unconsciously towards her. Soon, as he remains asleep and snoring, his head lands on her shoulder. He's definitely going to drool all over her dress. “Bless him .” Z whispers, cocking his head a little as he watches X sleep. “He's absolutely knackered.” Y isn't entirely sure what that word means, but if it has anything to do with exhaustion, he's completely right. X is curled up on the couch, cheek pressed against a throw pillow Z thrifted, buried beneath a mound of blankets Y brought from home. They're ever so slightly weighted, and the pressure is comforting for X. She's trying to get used to his sensory needs. To not rely on him resolving them himself, especially when he's sick. Judging by the peaceful look on his face, nostrils flaring gently with each slow breath, she's doing something right at least. She hopes, also, that bringing him into her workplace was the right thing to do as well, groaned when she half-dragged X through the doors, pale and shakily covering his ears, squinting against the light, but what was she supposed to do? Suppose X had been left alone, and needed to get something to drink? Doing those things alone right now is essentially impossible for him. Y's phone beeps, and she turns it on to find a reminder: X’s antibiotics. She sighs, glancing over at cosy-looking just as his nose twitches in his sleep. Z notes frustration. “Antibiotic time?” “Yep.” With another small sigh of sympathy, she stands and wanders over to the feverish bundle of blankets and gentle snores, placing a gentle hand on the top of his head. Her thumb brushes against the sweat-damp curls that hang over his eyes. “ X? Sweetheart? Wake up for me, pumpkin.” When, after a few seconds of waiting, he doesn't stir, she gently strokes her index finger against his lower eyelashes. It's an age-old trick, and just like always, his eyes gradually open halfway. “Hey, X.” She whispers, smiling reassuringly as he blinks in the light. For once, he doesn't make any attempt to get up. His dizziness is clearly plaguing him again. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but you need to take your meds. Can you do that for me?” He swallows, clearly disoriented. Barely awake. “ Mm.” “Thank you. You don't even have to sit up, alright? Just…” she takes the bottle of pills from the coffee table and unscrews the lid, shaking a couple into her palm. “Just put these in your mouth, sweetheart.” Shakily, he obeys. Y's now empty hand is nearly immediately met with a glass of water filled up moments ago by Z. She moves closer to X and holds the rim of the glass up to his lips. “Now take a few sips, and swallow… Good job.” As soon as his small (yet Herculean) task is complete, X sinks back against the pillow entirely, eyes closing. Y draws the blanket over his shoulders, hand yet again drifting to his hair. “How’re you feeling?” she asks softly. His nostrils flare. He doesn't open his eyes. “ B-bad… Di- dizzy.” “ I bet… the antibiotics will make things better soon, pumpkin, I promise. Just rest.” X swallows thickly. “ C-can I go b-back to sleep now?” T gives him a small smile. “Of course you can.” She leans forward, pressing her lips to his too-warm forehead before withdrawing, still carding through his hair. “Sleep well, sweetheart. Night night.” Within moments, his breaths even out again. Soon, her pager will beep, and somehow X will remain fast asleep, swathed in blankets and yet still shivering. She'll check the little device to find that she's needed down at the hospital for a delivery. She'll know that it's okay for her to leave, because there's a whole team watching over. Keeping him safe and comfortable. For now, however, she listens to the murmurings of her colleagues about how adorable X is (she knows, it's why she loves him so much) and traces his features with her thumb. “That’s it, X. Sweet dreams.”

ᴾᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵒᵘʳ ᔆᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴰᵃʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ‽' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ʰᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ; ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ; ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ‧ 'ᴴᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵃʸ ʰⁱᵐ? ᴺᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ‧ ᴵᶠ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷʰʸ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ? ᵀʰᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉˢᵗ ᵏⁱᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒⁿᵈ‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʰᵉʸ! ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ?" "ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒʳ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ?" "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧" "ᴴⁱ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᔆᵗᵒᵖ; ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ!" "ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉ! ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ‧ ᴳᵒ‧ ᴺᵒʷ‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ!" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍ!" "ᴼʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ; ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ?" "ᴬʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵃᵗ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴷⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵏⁱᵖ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵒʷᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ; ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ! ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᴸⁱᵃʳ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵘⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵖᵃⁿⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ˡⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ!" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵖʳᵒᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵇʸ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ!" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᵃ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗⁿᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ʲᵒᵏᵉ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʲᵒⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ 'ᔆʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ʲᵒᵏᵉ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᶠᵒʳᵐ ʰᵃᵗ‧ ᵀʰʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘˡˡʸ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵇⁱᵍ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷʰᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᑫᵁᴵᵀ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃˡᶠ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᴵ ʰᵘᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵉˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ! ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᴮᵃᶜᵏ ᴼᶠᶠ!" ᴵⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵏⁱᵈ ʷᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧" ᴱⁿᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡᵉ

"I know your antenna hurts, Plankton. Why do you think I'm driving you to the doctor?" Karen exclaimed. The Bikini Bottom Hospital looms right up ahead. Plankton winced as he touched his antenna, which was swollen. "Don't you dare say 'I told you so' to me," he mumbled. "Why would I do that?" Karen replied, feigning innocence. They both knew it was because of his latest invention, a crazy contraption that was supposed to harness the power of jellyfish to make the perfect Krabby Patty. But, as usual, it went awry, and he wasn't quick enough to get out of the way. They arrived at the hospital. The receptionist glanced up from her desk. "Hello! How may I help you?" "It's Plankton," Karen said, nodding to her husband. "He's got an antenna problem. It's swollen and he's in pain. He got it slammed in between..." "Karen please.." Plankton interrupts. The receptionist remained professional. "Alright, let me get you checked in. Have a seat and will be with you shortly." The waiting room was filled with the usual assortment of Bikini Bottom residents nursing their injuries. Plankton tried to ignore the pain. A few minutes later, a doctor with a stethoscope around his neck called, "Plankton?" Karen gave him a gentle nudge and they followed into an examination room. The doctor took a look at his antenna, examining the swollen appendage, and Plankton's face contorted with each touch. The doctor spoke calmly, "We're going to need to perform surgery to repair the damage. It's nothing to worry about. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning." Plankton's eye grew wide with dread, while Karen took the news in stride, already planning what she would need to bring him for comfort during their stay. Once outside the hospital, Plankton's mood quickly soured. "Surgery? How could you let this happen, Karen?" he snapped. "It's your own fault for messing with those inventions," she retorted. They both knew the real culprit was his relentless pursuit of the Krabby Patty secret formula, but the pain made Plankton more irritable than usual. They went home in silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a spatula. As they approached the Chum Bucket, Plankton's laboratory and their shared home, Karen finally spoke up. "Look, Plankton, we need to get you ready for tomorrow. You should rest." Plankton nodded begrudgingly. Karen sighed, knowing she had her work cut out for her if she wanted to ensure Plankton's recovery went smoothly. She helped him to their bedroom. Karen began to pack a bag filled with things to keep his spirits high during their stay. She tossed in a blanket, and a stack of comics featuring Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy, and even a teddy bear. Karen couldn't help but reflect on how Plankton's obsession with the Krabby Patty formula had led to so many disasters. Despite his constant failures, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for his never-ending quest. It was clear that he was driven by something deeper than mere greed; perhaps it was the desire for respect or the thrill of the chase that kept his tiny body and mind going. The next morning she got out of bed. Plankton's surgery was scheduled for 8 AM. She needs to get him up so they can go. Plankton was lying in bed. Karen sets the bag by the door before turning back to him, his good antenna twitching in his sleep as he continued to snore. She sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Gently, she shook him. "Plankton, it's time to wake up," she whispered. He groaned and opened his eye, looking up at her with a mix of fear and resentment. She knew the surgery was weighing heavily on his mind. The hospital was quiet this early as they made their way to the surgery wing. Plankton's heart raced as they walked in, his antenna throbbing. He took a deep breath to focus on the comforting sound of Karen's voice as the doctors and nurses prepared for the procedure. Karen sat by the bed with their bag in her lap. "Here," she said, handing him the teddy bear, "This will help you feel better." Plankton took it, feeling slightly embarrassed but also some comfort. He squeezed it tightly to his chest as the nurse draped the blanket over him. The nurse came in to administer the medication. Plankton's grip tightened on the teddy bear. "Just breathe deep," they coached. Karen watched as the medicine began to take effect. Plankton's eye grew heavy and his breathing slowed. He looked so vulnerable lying there, his defensive armor of anger and sarcasm stripped away. It was moments like these that reminded her why she put up with his shenanigans. As the anesthesia took hold, Plankton's grip on the teddy bear loosened. His body went slack, and he was soon fast asleep, his breaths deep and even as his mind drifted into oblivion. The doctors and nurses moved swiftly once he was out, preparing the surgical instruments as Plankton's snores echoed gently through the sterile room as Karen watches them begin the operation on his antenna. Her gaze was firmly fixed on Plankton's sleeping face, studying the way his expression softened in slumber, his mouth parted slightly in a way that made him almost seem... peaceful. When they finished the procedure, the doctor smiled. "Went perfectly, he did so well," he said to Karen. The nurse nodded in agreement. Karen felt a weight lift from her shoulders. They wheeled Plankton to a recovery room, and she followed closely behind, her eyes never leaving his tiny form. The room was dimly lit, with a gentle beep from the monitor attached to him, keeping track of his vital signs. The nurse helped transfer him to the bed, his arm draped over the side. She pulled the blanket over him as the teddy bear was placed under his arm. The nurse helped him settle into the bed, adjusting his pillows and covering him with a warm blanket. Plankton's chest rose and fell rhythmically, his snores now quiet. Karen sat in the chair beside his bed, holding his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles in a soothing motion. The room was dim, the only light coming from the glow of the medical equipment. The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic environment of the Chum Bucket, filled with the clanking and whirring of his never-ending inventions. Plankton stirred, his single antenna waving slightly as he woke up groggily. The pain from his surgery was managed by the drugs, but his mind was a fog. He blinked several times, trying to bring the room into focus. He felt a warm hand in his. "Karen?" he croaked out. Her eyes snapped to his, relief flooding her face. "You're awake," she said, her voice soft. She squeezed his hand back gently. The doctor walked in, a clipboard in hand. "How are you feeling?" he asked, looking at Plankton. "Tired," Plankton replied, his voice hoarse from the surgery. Karen leaned over the bed rail to get a better look at him. The nurse offered him a cup of water with a straw, which he took gratefully. "Your antenna is going to be okay," the doctor said, his tone reassuring. "We've managed to repair the damage. You'll need to keep it wrapped and protected for a today, but it should be as good as new soon." Plankton nodded, still feeling the fog of anesthesia. His eye searched the room slowly, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the recovery room. "You might sleep for the rest of today, which is normal and totally ok!" The doctor left the room, leaving Karen to watch over Plankton. She sat in the chair beside him, her hand still holding his, feeling his fingers tighten around hers as he fought the urge to drift back into sleep. "What's the plan?" Plankton mumbled, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. "Rest," Karen said firmly. "Lots of it. That's what the doctor ordered." She gave his hand another squeeze. The nurse checked his bandages and removed his IV. "Hah?" "Alright, Plankton," she said with a smile, "you're all set to go home." Karen stood up, feeling the relief wash over her. She helped him sit up, his movements sluggish from the lingering effects of the anesthesia. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and she noticed his antenna wobble slightly as he found his balance. With Karen's assistance, They made their way slowly down the corridor. The hospital's bright lights felt harsh to Plankton's half-open eye, and the smell of antiseptic made him twitch. His antenna, now wrapped in a fresh bandage, pulsed with a dull ache, but the pain was nothing compared to the exhaustion that weighed down his every movement. Karen walked beside him, her hand ready to catch him if he fell. Outside, the early afternoon sun shone down on Bikini Bottom, casting long shadows over the sidewalk. Karen helped Plankton into the car, making sure he was buckled in tightly before putting the bag in the back. She got his blanket and leaned his seat back, giving him extra room to rest. Plankton leaned his head back, his eye already closing. The gentle hum of the engine was soothing, and he felt his body begin to relax. Karen started the car and pulled out of the hospital's parking lot. The drive home was quiet, with only the occasional snore from Plankton to break the silence. She glanced over at him, his chest rising and falling steadily.

🏹 🧠 🏹

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

https://youtu.be/Ais36ApfOnY?feature=shared duck://player/Ais36ApfOnY

(Autistic author) Plankton has autism, which only he and Karen know about. They're able to keep it a secret, per Plankton's request, even from their son Chip. So when Chip comes home early from football, he's surprised to see his dad staring at the blank wall as his mom rubs his back. "Is everything okay?" he asks, stepping into the room. Plankton's eye is unfocused, his body rigid, like he's stuck in some invisible vice. Karen's hand pauses on his shoulder, and she turns to face Chip, her smile forced. "Yeah, just a little...spell," she says. Plankton's absence seizure has struck without warning. It's like a silent storm passing through the room, leaving no trace except the vacant look in his eye. The room seems to shrink around them as Chip takes in his dad's unblinking stare. He's never seen this. "Should I get help?" Chip's voice cracks. Karen shakes her head quickly, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "No, it's fine. Just...give us a minute." She waves a hand, trying to dismiss the concern that has etched itself on Chip's features. But Chip lingers, his gaze flickering between his parents. "What's happening?" he whispers. Karen sighs, her hand dropping to her side. She looks at Plankton. "It's just something your dad has," she says, choosing her words carefully. "It's like his brain goes on pause for a bit." Chip watches as his dad's chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, the only indication that he's still present in the physical world. "But what do you mean?" his eyes search hers for understanding. Karen's eyes flit to Plankton before returning to Chip's. She takes a deep breath, bracing herself. "It's not dangerous, just a little scary-looking." The silence stretches until it feels like a rubber band about to snap. Chip's curiosity overpowers his fear. He takes a tentative step closer. "Does he know we're here?" Chip whispers. "Not really," Karen murmurs, "But he'll come back to us." Chip reaches out, a tremor in his fingertips, and touches Plankton's arm, but the seizure doesn't seem to notice. "Dad?" Chip whispers, his voice a soft echo in the stillness. Plankton's body remains stiff as a statue, his gaze fixed on a spot somewhere beyond the wallpaper's pattern. Karen's hand moves to cover Chip's, her touch warm and reassuring. "It's okay," she whispers back, "It's part of him. Don't poke or shake him, just let it pass." The seconds tick by, each one feeling heavier than the last. Chip's heart thuds in his chest, his mind racing with questions and fear. He's never seen his dad like this before, so...so vulnerable. As the seizure slowly releases its grip, Plankton blinks, his eye refocusing on the room. He looks confused, like he's waking from a deep sleep. Karen's smile relaxes, the tension in her shoulders easing. Plankton turns to her, his gaze flickering with recognition before falling on Chip. "Chip?" His voice is raspy. Karen nods at Chip, silently urging him to speak. "Yeah, Dad, it's me." Plankton's expression shifts. "What...what happened?" his voice is frail. Chip opens his mouth, but Karen steps in quickly. "You had a little moment, that's all. Nothing to worry about," she says, her tone light. But her hand is still on Plankton's back, ready to provide support if needed. Plankton's eye darts around, his hands clenching and unclenching as if trying to remember how to interact with the world again. He notices Chip's hand reaching out and flinches slightly, his discomfort with physical contact clear. Chip, sensing this, pulls his hand back, his cheeks flushing. He's always known his dad was a bit...different. Quirky. But he's never seen this side of him. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice soothing as she squeezes Plankton's hand. "You're okay." Plankton nods, his mind slowly untangling from the cotton wool fog of the seizure. He looks around the room, familiar objects snapping back into focus. His eye lands on Chip, who's watching him with a mix of worry and curiosity. He clears his throat. "Just a...moment. I'm fine now." He tries to smile, but it feels awkward and forced. Chip's eyes don't leave him. "What was that?" he asks, his voice still low. Karen looks at Plankton. It's time. "Your dad has something called autism, Chip," she says. "It's like his brain works in a special way." Chip's eyes widen. "What does that mean?" Karen sits down beside Plankton, who's still gathering himself. "It's like...sometimes, his brain takes a little break from the world," she explains gently, her hand still on his shoulder. "It can be overwhelming, with all the sounds, sights, and people around." Chip nods slowly, trying to grasp the concept. Plankton swallows hard, his mind racing. He's always been so careful to hide this part of himself, not wanting to be seen as less than or weird. But as he looks at Chip, his heart swells with a mix of fear and hope. What if his son can't understand? What if this changes everything? Karen gives him a nod, encouraging him to go on. With a deep breath, Plankton starts to speak. "You know how sometimes you get really focused on something and the world just fades away?" Chip nods. "Well, for me, it's like that," Plankton says, his voice steadying. "But sometimes, my brain does it without me asking. It's like my thoughts are a TV with too many channels playing at once, and it just...shuts off for a bit to give me a break." Chip nods, trying to imagine what that's like. "Does it hurt?" Plankton shakes his head. "Well, it's just...different. Sometimes I don't realize, sometimes it's tough." Chip looks up at him, his eyes full of questions and a nascent empathy. "Can you control..." "No Chip, I can't 'control' it!" He snaps back. "Hey hey, it's okay," Karen whispers, meeting his gaze. "He's not judging you, Plankton." Plankton takes a deep breath, his eye fluttering shut. "I know," he murmurs, but his tone is anything but convinced. Chip's gaze softens, his fear replaced with a determined curiosity. "What's it like?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. "It's like being in a little bubble," he says, his eye distant. "Everything's far away, muffled. And when it's over, it's like...like popping back into reality." Chip's curiosity grows, his mind racing with questions. "But why do you keep it a secret?" he asks, his voice tentative. Karen looks to Plankton, who's still visibly shaken. "We didn't want it to define you," she says softly. "We wanted you to see him as just your dad, not as someone with a label." Plankton nods. "And I didn't want to be different," he adds, his voice barely above a whisper. Chip considers this, his gaze flitting from his dad to the ground. "But you are," he says, his voice earnest. "You're my dad, even with your..." He stumbles over the word "...seizures." Karen's eyes fill with pride at her son's acceptance. Plankton's tension how ever, heightens at Chip's description. "It's not a seizure," he corrects, his voice slightly defensive. Chip looks confused. "But it looks like it," he says, frowning. Karen nods. "It's similar, but not the same," she explains before Plankton can interject. "It's part of your dad's autism." Chip looks at Plankton, his eyes searching for something he's never noticed before. "But why did you keep it a secret?" he asks again. Plankton's gaze drifts to the floor, his voice soft. "Because people can be cruel, son," he says, his words heavy. "They don't always understand." Chip nods, his eyes welling up with tears. "But I do," he says, his voice shaking. "I mean, I don't get it all, but I understand that you're still you." Plankton's expression softens, his fear of rejection dissipating slightly. He looks up at Karen, his gaze filled with gratitude. She gives him a small smile, her eyes telling him it's okay to be his true self.

‘Yᴏᴜ ʙʟᴀsᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴀʀɴᴀᴄʟᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ!’

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

😍🦠🦠🦠😍

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⠤⡤⠀⣤⡤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠔⠊⠑⠀⠀⠁⢀⡀⠀⠀⡀⠉⠒⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⡞⠱⠂⣀⠀⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⠳⠆⠀⠈⠀⠀⢀⣀⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⠁⡆⠀⡀⢔⡢⣛⢮⠳⣂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⠤⠤⠤⠤⢄ ⠈⢆⠀⠀⠔⠱⡪⠄⣃⠀⠀⠱⡄⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⠟⠒⠒⢋⣉⣉⣹⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⣔⡾ ⠀⠈⠢⡀⠀⠀⡇⡀⠸⡌⢷⣀⡸⠐⠋⠁⠀⢀⠤⡒⢉⡃⠤⠖⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠤⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⠲⣟⡨⠕⠊⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⠤⢡⠻⣄⠜⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⠞⠚⠛⢅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⠒⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠤⠋⠁⠀⠀⢀⡤⡖⠋⢁⡠⠤⠒⢀⡸⠀⠀⣀⣀⠠⠤⠐⠒⡆⠁⠀⣀⠤⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⢀⡰⠉⠀⠸⡏⣀⡶⠶⠿⡷⠶⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠶⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⢀⡴⢋⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⡀⠀⢠⠃⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠰⡯⣀⣤⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡑⠆⠀⠀⠘⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣥⡀⠀⡇⠀⡇⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⡧⠤⠤⠐⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢟⡈⣲⠁⠀⡇⠀⠙⣄⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠁⠀⠀⢀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠯⣁⡠⠔⡇⠀⠀⠈⠓⠶⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡼⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⠠⠤⠤⠤⠤⡤⠕⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢚⠖⠒⠂⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

wonyoungism check! ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 make sure to study! want to know why your friends may have better grades and you don't? it's because you need to study! it may seem boring and useless but after you start practicing, everything hard becomes SO much easier and make it easy to understand and remember! i used to SUCK at math so much even though i was a grade higher in math and i was also in honors roll. i started practicing and asking questions! that's how i'm ace-ing in math right now! keep it up! like for clear skin! ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ search "mirai" for more! <33

wonyoungism check! ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 have you exercised today? too tired or bored! well get up and try drinking chia water! it gives you a snatched waist in days! this is how people "lose" weight temporarily. make sure not to drink too much but drink it like how you normally drink water, in small amounts! like for clear skin! ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ search "mirai" for more! <33

░▀▄░░▄▀ ▄▄▄██▄▄▄▄▄░▀█▀▐░▌ █▒░▒░▒░█▀█░░█░▐░▌ █░▒░▒░▒█▀█░░█░░█ █▄▄▄▄▄▄███══════

⚕

🧴🫧🥒🤍🧖🏻‍♀️

🦠

.˚⋆ 👑✧˚.🎀༘⋆

༅˚🥥⋆⁺₊⋆🥕˚∘🧡๋࣭🌱 ⋆⊹🧄⋆

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

⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⠿⣿⡿⠿⣿⠿⢿⣿⠿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿ ⣿⣿⠀⣴⣶⣿⡇⠀⣶⠀⢸⣿⠀⡀⢹⣿⠀⡀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢸⡏⠀⢹⡇⠀⣿⠀⢸⣿⠀⣿⣿⠀⣦⠀⣿⣶⠀⢰⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⠀⠙⠛⣿⡇⠀⠛⢤⣼⣿⠀⣷⠸⡇⢸⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⡇⢰⢸⡇⢸⣿⠀⠈⠉⠀⣿⡿⠀⣿⠀⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⠀⢸⣿⠀⣿⡀⠃⣾⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠃⣾⠘⠃⣸⣿⠀⢸⣿⠀⣿⡇⠀⠿⠀⢿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣀⣉⣉⣹⣇⣀⣿⣀⣸⣿⣀⣿⣇⣀⣿⣇⣸⣿⣉⣿⣏⣙⣿⣉⣻⣿⣀⣀⣿⣀⣀⣿⣿⣀⣸⣿⣀⣿⣇⣰⣶⣀⣸⣿⣀⣸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⡟⢿⡟⠻⠟⠛⠻⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⡛⠻⡟⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⢇⣄⣶⣦⣀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣇⢰⠺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣳⡙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⡿⠋⣠⣑⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠻⢷⠟⠁⠀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠈⠑⣆⠄⢐⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢮⣡⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⡽⠛⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡚⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣀⣱⣀⣘⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠟⠃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⣳⣠⠴⠒⠂⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠲⢴⡀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣏⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⠣⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠫⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠎⠑⠢⣤⣀⣀⣀⡤⢤⠖⡙⢧⡼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⠟⡞⢰⣄⣼⡄⠉⡛⠁⠀⡈⣀⡀⠘⠙⡿⢳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⠂⣿⣼⢿⠿⠿⠿⠶⠿⠿⠟⢿⡦⠀⠀⡐⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡹⣷⣽⣿⣷⣽⣤⣶⣤⢥⣀⡈⡀⣰⣇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣌⠝⠝⠛⠉⠉⠉⠙⠏⠍⠂⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⡿⠿⠿⢿⣿⠿⣿⡿⢿⣿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣷⡆⠀⣾⣿⠀⣿⡇⢸⣿⠀⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⡇⠠⣦⣀⣿⠇⢰⡆⠀⣿⡇⢰⡄⢹⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⢻⣿⣿⠁⣴⡄⢸⣿⠀⣶⡄⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⠀⣉⡁⢸⣿⠀⠘⢛⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠈⠻⣿⠀⢸⣿⣶⣿⡇⢸⡇⢸⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢸⣿⠀⠛⠃⣸⣿ ⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢸⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠹⣷⠀⣿⡀⢸⡏⠉⣿⠃⠙⠃⠸⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⣿⡇⢸⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣧⣤⣿⣿⣤⣿⣧⣼⣿⣤⣤⣤⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⣀⣤⣿⣧⣄⣀⣴⣿⣤⣿⣧⣤⣿⣤⣤⣤⣿⣤⣤⣤⣿⣦⣀⣠⣾⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿

🦭🦭 🫧🌊🐧🐇

jellyfish ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆☃︎✮☃︎☃︎✮✮✮✮✮

🦈🎐⭐

jellyfish 🐟🐌💧

🪼🌊🐚

"𝖮𝗁 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍.." 𝖣𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍? 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 '𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅' 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗑𝖾𝖽. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )

ᵀᵒ ᴴⁱᵗ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ⁱⁿᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧" ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧ "ᴴⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘ— ʷᵉˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧" ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗᵉᵈ/ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᵇʳᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵃᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵉ'ᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘʳ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ˡⁱˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵍᵃᶻⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠᵉᵉᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ ᴹⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ/ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ʸᵃʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ!" "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮⁱᵏⁱⁿⁱ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒˢˢ ʰⁱᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ'ˢ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵍᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟒𝟖