Kneesurgery Emojis & Text

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 1 Plankton's foot slipped on the uneven stone. His arms flailed in a desperate attempt to keep his balance. The sickening crack of bone on bone echoed through the stillness as Karen watched her husband Plankton crumple, his face a mask of pain. The quiet evening was shattered by his agonized scream. Karen rushed to his side. Plankton was clutching his leg, his eye squeezed shut. The angle of his lower leg was grotesque, unnatural. It was clear something was very wrong. She didn't need to be a doctor to know that the sound of the snap had been his middle leg bones, breaking. Karen raced as she knelt beside him, his pain a palpable presence. Plankton's breaths came quick and shallow, punctuated by grunts of pain; it was already swelling, the bone jutting under the skin. She knew they had to act fast. "Hold on," she whispered fiercely. "We need to get you to a hospital." Their quiet neighborhood was quickly alight with the wails of an approaching ambulance. The stark white and red lights bobbed through the trees, casting eerie shadows on their panic-stricken faces. The moments stretched into an eternity before the doors swung open and medical personnel flooded out, their movements efficient and calm, contrasting with the chaos of the scene. They moved quickly, strapping Plankton onto a stretcher, his screams of agony piercing the night air as they carefully straightened his leg and secured it in a makeshift splint as Karen hops in. The ambulance lurched forward, the wheels eating up the pavement as they sped toward the hospital. Karen held his hand tightly. "Ma'am, you might want to accompany him into the surgery room, as he'll need an operation." They told Karen. Upon arrival, the doctor spoke in hushed, professional tones, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "It's a serious fracture. We'll need to perform a tibiofibular repair. It's a complex procedure, but our team is prepared. You can stay by him as we operate. Let's get him comfortable first." Karen nodded. "I understand." They transferred him to the operating table, gently arranging his limbs with the precision of experience. Karen held his hand, her eyes never leaving his as the anesthesiologist prepared the medication. Plankton was visibly nervous, his eye darting between the doctor and his wife. To help ease his nerves, the nurse offered Plankton a warm blanket and a stuffed bear, and he clutched it to his chest. The anesthesiologist stepped back, thinking for a moment before speaking up. "We have anesthesia. We can try that. It's not our usual protocol, but in your case, it might be the best option." Karen felt the grip of Plankton's hand tighten around hers. "It'll be okay," she assured him, trying to mirror the nurse's calm demeanor. The doctor nodded in agreement. "We've done this before. We'll take good care of you." The anesthetic began to flow into his veins, and Plankton's eyelid grew heavy. His breathing slowed, and the room grew quiet as his grip loosened and his hand went slack in Karen's. She leaned in, whispering, "I love you," as his eye closed fully, snores now coming from his open mouth. The doctor gave a nod to the anesthesiologist, who nodded back in confirmation. The surgery could begin. Once they finished the surgery, they bandaged Plankton's leg with a cast that went from his toes to his hip, and wheeled him to the recovery room. The doctor explained that it was a successful procedure, though he'd be asleep for several hours. The room was a soft symphony of beeps and whispers, a stark contrast to the chaos of the operating theater. Karen waited, her fingers intertwined with his, feeling his pulse steady and strong under her fingertips. The nurse dimmed the lights. "He's reacting nicely to the anesthesia. It's normal and ok if today he tends to doze off easily." Karen nodded. As Plankton slept on, the nurse adjusts his stuffed bear so that it doesn't press against his cast. She smiles reassuringly at Karen. "He's going to be okay," she says softly. "We'll keep a close eye on his vitals, yet he should be coming around shortly." Karen nods, gratitude in her screen, and squeezes his hand gently. "You can even talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes it helps to hear a familiar voice." Karen leans closer to Plankton's sleeping form. "You're going to be okay. You're going to recover, and we're going to get through this." The nurse nods, a sympathetic smile on her face as she checks the IV dripping pain relievers into his arm. Eventually, Plankton's eye opens groggily, looking around the room in confusion. He winces as the light pierces his pupil, and Karen quickly reaches over to dim the lamp. "It's okay," she says soothingly. "You're in the hospital. You had an accident." His eye finds hers and relaxes slightly as recognition sets in. "My...my leg," he mumbles, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. Karen nods, her thumb brushing his knuckles. "They fixed it. You had surgery. You're going to be okay." Plankton tries to move, but the weight of the cast stops him. "What...happened?" The doctor enters the recovery room. "You had a nasty fall. Do you remember?" Plankton's eye drifts closed, trying to piece together the fragmented moments. The pain, the lights, the sound of his own screams. He nods slightly, the memory firming like concrete in his mind. "We've repaired it. You'll be in this cast for a while, but with rest, you'll be back to normal." Plankton nods again. The doctor nods to Karen. "He'll be sleepy for a bit. We've given him some pain medication." Karen nods. Plankton's eyelid flutters, his gaze unfocused. "Can I... see it?" he asks, his voice slurred by the anesthesia. Karen nods and gently lifts the blanket. The cast, white and pristine, extends from his toes to his hip. "It's going to take some time, but you'll be okay," she repeats, her voice soothing. Plankton's eye focuses on the cast. "It's...big," he murmurs, his voice trailing off as the weight of the medication pulls him back under. His eye droops closed, and his breathing steadies into the rhythmic pattern of sleep. Karen watches his chest rise and fall as they remove the IV. "He'll be in and out of it for a while. It's normal. The body needs rest after surgery." Karen nods, trying to absorb the doctor's words. She's seen people with broken legs before, but never one she loves so much. She thanks the doctor, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's hand moves, his fingers searching for hers. "Karen," he whispers, his voice thick with sleep. Her hand slides into his, squeezing gently. "I'm here," she murmurs, her screen never leaving his peaceful face. The surgery had been a success. The nurse looks to Karen. "I'll get the wheelchair." The chair squeaks into place, and Plankton's eye opens. He looks at Karen, the question in his gaze clear. She nods. "It's time to go home."

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

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 23 "I can bring you some water, or maybe a snack?" Hanna ventured timidly. Plankton didn't look up from the book he had open in his hand. "I don't need anything," he muttered. "I've got Karen." The implication was clear: he didn't want Hanna's help. Hanna's heart dropped, but she swallowed her pride. "Okay," she said, her voice small. "If you c-" "Actually," Karen interrupted, "Could you help me in the kitchen?" Her tone was carefully neutral, but Hanna could read the silent plea in her eyes. She nodded, grateful for something to do, and followed Karen into the kitchen. Once they were out of earshot, Karen turned to face her. "Look, Hanna, Plankton's just going through a tough time," she said gently. "His pride is on the line here, and he's not used to being so dependent on others. Give him some time, okay?" Hanna nodded, wiping at her eyes. "But I just want to help," she murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I don't know what I did wrong." Karen gave her a sad smile. "You didn't do anything wrong, Hanna. He's just... struggling." Hanna nodded, understanding but still feeling the weight of his words. "I know," she said. "But it hurt-" Karen interrupted with a firm but gentle tone. "You can't take it personally. He's in pain, and his pride is bruised. What he needs right now is time to process and heal." Hanna nodded, wiping her eyes. "But what can I do?" she asked. "How do I make it right?" Karen squeezed her hand. "Just be there for him," she said. "And maybe give him some grace. Let him come to you." Hanna nodded, wiping her cheeks. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll try." They returned to the living room, where Plankton was with his leg propped up. He didn't look at them. Hanna took a seat on the floor near the couch, picking up a magazine to flip through. The silence was stifling, but she respected his wish for space. Karen went about the room, adjusting pillows, getting him a blanket, and making sure his water was within reach. She glanced at Hanna frequently, her expressions speaking louder than words. "Thanks, Karen," Plankton murmured after a while, his voice softer. Hanna took a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Is there anyth—" But Plankton interrupted again, his voice sharp. "I don't want anything from you," he said. Her heart sank, but she swallowed her hurt. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll just be here." But Plankton read his book, his face a mask of concentration. Hanna pretended to be engrossed in her magazine, but her eyes kept straying to him. The minutes ticked by, each second feeling like an eternity. Karen moved around the room, her movements careful and quiet, trying not to disturb the fragile peace. The silence was so heavy, it felt like it was pressing down on all of them, no words were exchanged. Hanna's magazine lay unread on her lap, her thoughts whirling. She desperately wanted to apologize, to make it right, but she knew she had to follow Karen's advice. Give him space, let him be. Plankton turned the last page of his book in the tense silence. With a heavy sigh, he set the book aside. His antennae twitched. He looked over at Hanna, who was staring at the floor. "Look, I can't have you thinking I'm weak." Hanna nods, her voice small. "You're not weak. You're just... recovering." Plankton's eye softened slightly. "I know," he said. "But I need you to see me as... capable. I can't have you looking at me with pity." "I don't pity you," Hanna said quickly, meeting his gaze. "I just want you to be okay." But Plankton wasn't convinced. His antennae drooped as he leaned back into the couch. "I know you mean well, Hanna," he sighed. "But sometimes your help feels like you think I can't do anything for myself." Hanna felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "That's not what I meant," she said. "I'm sorry." Karen looked between them, silence hanging heavy in the air. "Maybe we all just need to talk about it," she suggested. Plankton's antennae twitched again, but he didn't argue. He knew his behavior had been unkind, but his pride was still smarting. "Why do you want to talk about it?" he asked warily. Hanna took a deep breath, swiping at a stray tear. "Because I care about you," she said simply. "And I don't want to do anything that makes you feel small or weak. I just want to do the right thing for you." Karen nodded in agreement. "We're both just trying to navigate this new situation," she said. "And sometimes Hanna might mess up." Plankton's expression softened slightly. "I know you're trying," he admitted to Hanna. Plankton sighs. "But no more laughing about it." Hanna nodded quickly. "I understand," she said. "I'll be more sensitive next time." Karen sat down next to Plankton, taking his hand in hers. "We all need to learn to be there for each other in different ways," she said. "We're all a little out of practice with this." Plankton nodded, his gaze drifting back to Hanna. He knew she had his best interest at heart, but it was still difficult to swallow his pride. "I'll try to communicate better," he murmured. Hanna looked up at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. Karen cleared her throat gently. "Why don't we start with some exercises? The doctor said you can start anytime." she suggested, breaking the tense silence. Plankton's eye widened slightly, but he didn't protest. Hanna looked relieved, eager to help in a way that was truly beneficial. The three of them moved to the living room floor. "Let's start with some simple leg lifts," Karen said, demonstrating the motion. "It'll help with your strength and flexibility." Plankton grimaced but complied, his tiny legs shaking slightly as he lifted the one with the bandage. Hanna watched carefully, her face filled with concern, reaching out to steady his leg. "Not so fast, Hanna," Karen chided gently. "Let him do it himself." Hanna quickly withdrew her hand, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She felt like she was always stepping on his toes, literally and figuratively. Plankton managed a few halfhearted lifts before his leg dropped back to the floor. "See?" Karen said, her voice kind. "It's about building strength slowly." Plankton grunted but nodded, his face contorted with effort. "Let's try again," Karen coached, placing a pillow under his leg for support. This time, Plankton was able to lift his leg a little higher. "Good job," Hanna encouraged, her voice soft and encouraging. "I can see you're getting stronger already." Plankton gritted his teeth and managed a few more lifts before his leg gave out again. "Remember, it's about pacing yourself," Karen reminded him. "We don't want to push too hard too soon. The exercises are optional, they said." Plankton nodded, his face a mask of determination. "I know," he grunted, his small body shaking with the effort. "But I have to try." Hanna could see the exhaustion settling into his eye. He was so tired.. "Take a break," Hanna suggested gently. Plankton looked at her with a mix of gratitude and frustration. "Fine," he agreed, letting his leg fall back to the pillow with a sigh. Karen helped Plankton back to the couch, his crutches clattering as she guided his weight. His eye searched Hanna's face for any sign of pity, but found none. She was watching him with concerned respect. "Thanks, Karen," he murmured once he was comfortably propped up again. Hanna took a seat across from them, her hands clasped tightly in her lap tentatively. The room was quiet as Plankton caught his breath. The exertion had tired him more than he cared to admit. He closed his eye, his antennae twitching slightly. Karen sat beside him, her hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. Hanna watched from afar, her heart heavy with remorse. She longed to comfort him, but knew she had to give him the space he needed, as Plankton leaned his head back into the couch cushion. Slowly, his breathing evened out, and his body grew slack. His eye closed completely, and within minutes, his snores filled the room. Hanna exchanged a glance with Karen, who gave a small smile. They both knew that his nap was a sign of his exhaustion but also of his body's need to heal. The tension seemed to ease slightly with each snore that rattled from his tiny mouth. Hanna took this opportunity to approach the couch, her movements careful not to disturb his sleep. She retrieved the throw pillow from the floor and gently placed it under his leg. Then she sat down next to Karen, her hand reaching out to cover hers. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Karen squeezed her hand back. "It's okay, he'll come around." The two of them sat in silence, watching Plankton sleep. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his snores a comforting sound.

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 16 The following morning, Hanna is the first to stir, carefully rising from the couch. She pads down the hallway, her footsteps quiet so as not to disturb anyone. Her eyes catch the open door to Karen and Plankton's room, and she peers in, seeing Karen has just woken up. Plankton's sleeping soundly in his own bed, his cast sticking out from under the covers as he snores softly. "He's okay," Karen whispers, noticing Hanna's concern. Hanna nods, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I know," she whispers back. "But I just...wanted to check." Karen smiles, patting the bed next to her. "Why don't you sit down?" she says. "We can talk." Hanna sits, her eyes fixed on Plankton's sleeping form. His casted leg is propped on a pillow, and his antennae twitch slightly, as if he's dreaming. "So, how do we help him?" Hanna asks, her voice still hushed. Karen sighs. "We give him space and let him come to us," she says. "But we also need to be ready when he does want help." Hanna nods, thinking. "What was the surgery like?" she whispers. Karen smiles sadly. "It was a complicated one," she says. "They had to use bone glue to reattach his leg." Hanna's eyes widen. "Bone glue?" she repeats, her voice filled with horror. "It's a thing," Karen assures her. "It's not as scary as it sounds. They're just taking extra precautions to ensure he heals properly." Her curiosity still piqued, Hanna can't help but ask more. "What was it like when he was under?" she says, her voice barely a breath. Karen's expression turns serious. "It's a delicate procedure," she explains. "They had to make sure he was completely numb to the pain. That's why he was asleep." Hanna nods, swallowing hard. "But how?" she asks, looking back at Plankton. "They used general anesthesia." Hanna's eyes widen even more. "And what did he look like?" Karen sighs, knowing that Hanna's questions are a way for her to process what happened. "He was unconscious," she says. "They monitored him the whole time to make sure he was okay. As they first started the anesthesia as it kicked in, I knew Plankton was asleep as his breathing evened out and his movements stopped. It was...peaceful," she adds, her voice trailing off. "And upon waking up, I was there to help him understand." Hanna nods, taking this in. "And what was it like when he woke up?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper. Karen looks at Hanna, her gaze filled with compassion. "He was confused at first," she says. "But I explained everything to him." Hanna nods, still staring at Plankton. "How do we talk to him?" she asks. "What can I do to make him comfortable?" Karen pauses, thinking. "Just be yourself," she suggests. "But maybe a little more...gentle. He's dealing with a lot of pain and frustration. Try not to take his snaps personally." Hanna nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "What else?" she whispers. "Well," Karen says, leaning in closer. "You could ask before doing, and just maybe not push so hard or make it to obvious that you're trying to help." Hanna nods, processing the advice. "And when he gets frustrated, what should I do?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen smiles gently. "Just be there," she says. "Let him know you care without smothering him. Give him space to express his feelings, even if they're not pretty." In the quiet of the room, they both watch as Plankton stirs in his sleep. His antennas twitch, and his casted leg shifts slightly. "Is he okay?" she whispers. "Yes, he's just waking up," Karen says, standing carefully. "Let's give him some space." Hanna nods, getting to her feet as she leaves Karen and Plankton's bedroom. In the living room, she sits and takes deep breaths, trying to compose herself. She hears a shuffling noise from the hallway and Plankton hobbles in on his crutches, his cast a stark white. He lowers himself carefully onto the couch. "Morning," she says tentatively. He looks up, but doesn't respond. Hanna's heart aches, but she follows Karen's advice and doesn't push. Instead, she goes to the kitchen, preparing a glass of chum juice. When she brings it back, Plankton nods in thanks. They sit in silence for a moment before Hanna finally speaks. "I'm sorry for last night," she says softly. "I didn't mean to make you upset." Plankton looks at her, his expression unreadable. He takes a sip of his chum juice, the silence stretching between them. "I'll try to be more considerate," she says. Plankton sighs, leaning back into the couch as Karen comes in. "How's everyone doing?" she asks, forcing cheer into her voice. Plankton shrugs. "I'm okay," he says, his tone noncommittal. Karen exchanges a look with Hanna. "Why don't we watch something to keep our minds off things?" she suggests. The TV flickers to life, and the sound of laugh track fills the room. Plankton shifts uncomfortably, his cast a reminder of his new reality. Hanna sits next to him, keeping her distance but still close enough to be there if needed. Karen sits on the other side of him. They watch a sitcom, the laughter echoing in the quiet room. Plankton tries to concentrate, but his thoughts drift to his surgery, his leg, his new limitations. His antennae droop, and he takes a deep breath. Hanna notices his discomfort and shifts closer. "Do you want me to get you anything?" she asks quietly. Plankton's eye flits to her, and for a moment, he considers snapping again. But he swallows it down. "No," he says, his voice gruff. They continue to watch the TV, the forced laughter a stark contrast to the tension in the room. Karen clears her throat. "Why don't I get you your meds?" Plankton nods, his antennae drooping. "That'd be great," he mumbles. Hanna watches as Karen tends to him.

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 13 They play for a few minutes in silence, the sound of slapping cards the only noise in the room. Hanna's cheerfulness begins to grate on Plankton's nerves, his antennae twitching with each of her exclamations of "Oh!" and "Wow!" every time she wins a round. Karen watches the exchange, her eyes flickering between them. "Plankton," she says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't we take a break?" Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping. "I'm fine," he mutters. Hanna's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay if you need to—" He cuts her off with a glare. "I said I'm fine," he snaps, his voice tight. Karen squeezes his shoulder, her gaze firm. "Plankton," she says, her voice soft but firm. "Take a moment. We're all trying to make this work." Plankton huffs, his antennae stiffening. He knows she's right, but the cast on his leg is a constant reminder of his weakness, and Hanna's cheeriness is grating on his nerves. He takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his frustration. "Okay," he says through gritted teeth. "A break." Hanna's smile doesn't waver. "Great!" she says. "How abo---" Her words are cut off as Plankton swings his cast-covered leg around, wincing slightly as he does so. Hanna watches him, her concern etched on her face. "Careful," she warns gently. "I've got it," Plankton snaps, his pride bruised. He hobbles into his bedroom, his crutches echoing against the tiles. Karen sighs heavily, her eyes following him. "I'm sorry," Hanna says quickly. "I didn't mean to overstep." Karen shakes her head. "No, it's okay," she says. "He's just...going through a tough time." Hanna nods, her eyes filled with empathy. "I can see that," she says. "But he's lucky to have you." Karen smiles sadly. "Thanks, Hanna." They sit in silence for a moment before Karen stands up. "I'll go check on him," she says, leaving the living room. In the bedroom, Plankton is lying on the bed, his crutches leaning against the wall. He looks up as Karen enters, his expression unreadable. "You okay?" she asks, her voice gentle. Plankton shrugs. "I'm fine," he says, his voice clipped. Karen sighs. "You know, you don't have to be tough all the time," she says, sitting beside him. "We're all here to support you." Plankton turns his head to look at her, his single eye studying her face. "I know," he says, his voice softer. "It's just...embarrassing." Karen nods, her hand resting on his arm. "But you're not weak for needing help. It won't be forever." Plankton's eye blinks slowly, his antennae drooping. "I know, but it's just so...humiliating." Karen's grip on his arm tightens. "You're not weak, Plankton," she says firmly. "You're strong. You're going through a tough time, and that's okay." He looks away, his antennae waving slightly. "It's just...I don't like feeling so...so..." He struggles to find the words. "Vulnerable," she fills in gently. He nods, his eye closing. "Exactly." Karen's hand strokes his arm. "We all have our moments," she says. "It's okay to not be okay." Plankton's eye remains closed, his expression thoughtful. "Thanks," he mumbles, his antennae lifting slightly. They sit in companionable silence for a moment before Plankton sighs. "I'm just tired," he says, his voice weary. "Can we just...rest?" Karen nods, her face gentle. "Of course," she says. "Why don't you take a nap? I'll tell Hanna we're taking a break." She stands and leans over to kiss his forehead. "You're doing better than you think," she whispers. Plankton's antennae twitch. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice soft. He watches as she leaves the room, his mind racing with thoughts. He's not used to feeling so... dependent. But he knows Karen's right. He needs to accept the help and move forward. With a sigh, he closes his eye and tries to comfortable, the cast on his leg feeling like a lead weight. The house is quiet, only the faint hum of the refrigerator breaking the silence. Plankton's mind wanders, thinking about his recovery. He's always been the one to push through, to never let anything hold him back. But this... this was different. He couldn't fight or scheme his way out of a broken leg. After a few moments of contemplation, his eye snaps open. The door creaks slightly as it opens. Hanna pokes her head in, her smile slightly more tentative than before. "Is it okay if I come in?" she asks softly. Plankton nods, his antennae still. "What is it?" Her cheeks flush slightly. "I just wanted to check on you," she says, stepping into the room. "And to...apologize." "For what?" he asks, his voice gruff. Hanna takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry if I was too enthusiastic," she says, her eyes meeting his. "I just wanted to m-" "Make me feel better?" Plankton finishes for her, his tone sarcastic. Hanna swallows, her smile slightly wobbly. "I guess," she admits. "I just didn't know how else t---" Her words are interrupted by a soft knock on the doorframe. They both look up to see SpongeBob peering in, his face etched with concern. "Hey, buddy," he says gently. "How are you holding up?" Plankton's antennae perk up slightly. "I'm fine," he says. Sponge Bob nods. "Well, if you need anything, just holler," he says before leaving. Hanna looks at Plankton, her eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry," she repeats. "I di-" "Don't," Plankton says, cutting her off. Her smile falters. "What?" "You're being a...jerk." He answers her. Hanna's eyes widen in surprise. "I'm sorry," she stammers. "I didn't mean to be...I just want to make sure yo--" "You're annoying, Hanna! I have enough to deal with without you pestering me," Plankton snaps, his antennae quivering with agitation. Hanna's smile fades, and she takes a step back, her eyes welling with hurt. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I-I-I-I…" But Plankton's not done. "You're just nosy." Hanna's eyes fill with tears, but she fights them back. "I'm just trying to be your friend," she says, her voice shaking. "Get out! I don't need you, and it's none of your business!" Plankton's voice is sharp, his antennae stiff with anger. Hanna's smile crumbles. "Plankton, I just—" she starts, but he interrupts again. "What? Just what, Hanna? You wanna just stick around and gawk at me, or are you gonna go?" His voice is bitter, and she can see the frustration boiling behind his eye. Her smile is completely gone now, replaced by a look of sadness. "You know, Plankton," she says, her voice shaky, "you don't have to—" "Don't tell me what I have to do!" Plankton yells, his small frame trembling. "I know what I need, and it's not you poking your nose into my business!" Hanna's hands clench into fists at her sides. "I'm not poking my nose in," she says, her voice strained. "I'm just trying to help!" Her words are met with silence. Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae quivering with rage. "You think you're helping?" he spits. "You're not. You're just making everything worse. Why can't you just leave me alone?" Hanna's lip quivers, but she squares her shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere," she says firmly. "I care abou–" "You don't care about me," Plankton snaps. "You just want to know what happened so you can be the hero that 'saved' me." His eye glares at her, his antennae vibrating with accusation. "Well, my life doesn't involve you, Hanna. So just stay out of it!" Hanna's eyes brim with tears, but she refuses to let them fall. "I do care," she whispers. "And I'm not trying to be a her-" But Plankton's interrupted her again. "You don't know anything about me," he says, his voice cold. "You're just here because Karen let you, but I don't want you here." Hanna's cheeks flush with hurt. "Plankton, I'm trying to be a good friend, but you're just pushing me aw-" "I don't need a friend like you," Plankton says, his voice hard. "Now get out." Hanna's eyes fill with tears, but she nods, turning to leave. He slams the bedroom door behind her. In the living room Karen looks up to see her, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Hanna?"

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 17 When Karen returns, she hands him the pill and a glass of water. Plankton takes them without a word, swallows hard, and sets the glass down. The medication doesn't kick in right away, but his expression eases slightly. Hanna watches from the corner of her eye. Plankton shifts, his cast knocking against her side. Hanna moves back slightly. "What do you wanna watch?" she asks, trying to fill the void. He shrugs. "How about we find something we can all enjoy?" Karen suggests, settling on a movie with a mix of action and humor. They watch in silence, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. As the movie plays, Plankton's eyelid starts to droop, the medication finally taking hold. Without realizing it, his head slowly slumps to the side, until it's resting on Hanna's shoulder. Hanna freezes. Her heart thumps in her chest. This is a moment she never expected. She glances at Karen, whose expression is a mix of amusement and sympathy. Karen nods slightly, and Hanna understands the silent message: let him be. The movie plays on, the sound of explosions and laughter filling the room. But all Hanna can focus on is the warmth of Plankton's head on her shoulder. His breathing steadies into a soft snore, and she can't help but smile. Her arm is pinned awkwardly, but she doesn't dare move. Instead, she adjusts her position slightly, trying to find comfort without disturbing him. Karen notices, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and she whispers, "Let him sleep. He needs it." Plankton's head remained nestled on Hanna's shoulder, his antennae twitching slightly with each snore. Hanna felt a warmth spread through her, despite the awkwardness. She looked over at him, his face relaxed in sleep. Plankton's snores were deep and even, his body completely relaxed against Hanna, his mouth agape. Karen chuckled quietly. "Looks like he's out for the count," she whispered. Hanna nodded, her smile widening. She didn't move an inch, afraid of waking him. They watched the movie in silence, the comfort of Plankton's weight on her shoulder growing familiar. Karen put a finger to her lips, shushing her. As the credits started to roll, Hanna glanced at Plankton again as she reached for the remote, hitting the off button to avoid waking him. Karen chuckled, seeing Hanna's concern. "I think he's out cold," she whispered. Hanna swallowed a laugh, her eyes twinkling. Karen stood. "Let's get him comfortable," she whispered. Together, they managed to lift his casted leg and place it on the ottoman. Hanna carefully shifted his head to a pillow, his snores barely changing pitch. Plankton moved slightly, his snores grew little louder as his head found the cushion. Hanna couldn't resist a soft giggle, which caused Plankton to shuffle slightly but not wake. Karen shot her a look that clearly said 'not another sound'. They both settled in, exhaustion from the long night still lingering. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of morning light, the curtains filtering the brightness. Plankton's chest moved up and down in a steady rhythm, his snores fading as he moved deeper into sleep. Hanna couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for her earlier actions. But as she watched his peaceful expression, she knew she had to make amends. Karen nudged her. "Why don't you sit with him for a bit?" she suggested. Hanna nodded, swapping places with Karen. She sat carefully, making sure not to disturb his sleep. His breathing was even, and she could see the exhaustion etched on his face. She studied his features, feeling a surge of compassion. Plankton wasn't just a nemesis or a challenge; he was someone in pain, someone who needed support. Hanna vowed to be more considerate, more sensitive to his feelings. Her eyes drifted to his cast, the stark white a contrast to the soft pillow. It was a stark reminder of his vulnerability. Hanna's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. She turned to see SpongeBob peeking his head inside. He saw Plankton sleeping and his expression changed to one of concern. "How's he doing?" he asked in a low voice. Karen smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. "He's okay," she whispered. "Just sleeping." Sponge Bob padded over to the couch, his eyes on Plankton. "Can I sit?" he asked Hanna, his eyes hopeful. She nodded, scooting over to make room. The three of them sat in quiet companionship, each lost in their own thoughts. Sponge Bob reached out a hand, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face, and placed it gently on his cast, his thumb tracing the edge of Plankton's cast. Plankton stirred, his snores becoming softer. Sponge Bob's expression was one of pure empathy, his eyes reflecting the concern he felt for his friend. Hanna watched, touched by the genuine care. The silence was broken by another knock on the door. This time it was Patrick, his face scrunched in confusion. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice low. Karen whispered, "Plankton's sleeping." Patrick's eyes widened, and he looked at the crutches propped against the wall. "Oh," he said, his voice hushed. He sat down on the floor, his gaze following theirs to Plankton. "How'd he get the big white stick on his leg?" Patrick whispered. Hanna and Karen shared a look, then Hanna explained, "It's a cast, Pat. He broke his leg and the doctors put it on to help him heal, remember?" Patrick nodded slowly, his eyes still wide. "Oh, right. But why's he sleeping?" "He's taking a nap," Karen said gently. "The medicine makes him tired." Patrick nodded, his eyes still on Plankton. "Can I see?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. Hanna and Karen shared a look, then nodded in unison. "Just be careful," Karen whispered. Patrick crawled closer, his body moving with the grace of a bull in a china shop, despite his intention to be gentle. He studied Plankton's cast with intense interest, his finger poised just above it. "What happens if I to-" Hanna's hand snapped out, stopping him. "Don't touch it," she whispered firmly. Patrick's eyes widened in surprise. "But I just wanted to-" "Patrick," Karen interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. "Plankton's leg is very sore. We have to be careful." He nodded, his face a picture of understanding. "Oh," he said, sitting back on his heels. "Is it gonna fall off?" Hanna and Karen shared a look, their expressions a mix of amusement and concern. "No, Patrick," Hanna said, keeping her voice low. "The cast will stay on until his leg is all better." Patrick nodded slowly, his eyes still glued to Plankton's cast. "Can I tell him I'm sorry?" he asked. Hanna looked at Karen, who nodded. "Yes, you can," she said. "But you'll have to wait until he wakes up." Patrick leaned in, his face just inches from Plankton's as he whispered, "Hey, Plankton. You okay?" Plankton's snores continued unabated. "I think he's comfortable," Hanna said, keeping her voice low. "Let's not wake him." Patrick nodded, his curiosity now focused on the cast. He reached out his hand and tapped it lightly. The sudden contact made Plankton flinch, his eye shooting open. "Whaa-" He took in his surroundings quickly, his eye widening when he saw Hanna, Karen, and Sponge Bob sitting around him. "What's going on!" he croaked, his voice groggy from sleep and pain medication. "You were sleeping," Karen explained, her voice soft. Plankton blinked, his mind fuzzy. "Is the movie over?" "Yes," Hanna said, smiling gently. "You fell asleep, on my sh- I mean, you fell asleep during it." Plankton's gaze shifted to Hanna, his expression uncertain.

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 19 The doctor nods, his eyes scrutinizing the x-ray. "Good," he says, his voice clipped. "It's healing nicely." Plankton lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping slightly. The doctor continues, his voice gentle. "But we'll need to extract the excess glue." Plankton's eye widens. "What!" The doctor holds up a hand. "It's common, nothing to worry about. All do is drain the excess glue. It'll help reduce the pressure and discomfort." Plankton's antennae wave in distress. "How?" he asks, his voice high-pitched. Hanna and Karen exchange worried glances. The doctor explains, his tone reassuring. "It's a simple procedure," he says, his claws gesturing to the medical tools laid out before them. "We'll just remove your cast and then we go in with a small instrument to drain the excess glue." Plankton's breathing speeds up, his antennae twitching rapidly. "But what if it hurts?" he asks, his voice high-pitched. The doctor nods understandingly. "We'll put you under general anesthesia like last time, Mr. Plankton. You won't feel a thing." Karen nods, her face a mask of calm. "Okay," Plankton whispers, his eyes darting between Karen and the doctor, his voice shaking. They wheel him into the operating room, Hanna waiting out in a chair as Karen follows Plankton in. The room was cold, the smell of disinfectant sharp in his tiny nose. His leg was propped up, the cast looking like a monolith in the stark, white room. The doctor's face loomed over him, a mask obscuring his expression. "You're going to feel sleepy now, Mr. Plankton," he said, his voice distant. "Count backwards from twenty." Plankton managed a nod, his voice slurring. "T-twenty," he slurred. "Nineteen." His eyelid began to droop, his words slurring more with each number. "Eigh-" his voice trailed off as the world grew fuzzy. His head lolled to the side, his antennae coming to rest on the pillow. And with that, Plankton was asleep, his breaths evening out. The doctor nodded to the nurse, who smiled gently. "He's under," she confirmed, monitoring his vitals. Karen squeezed his hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton," she whispered. Hanna stood at the edge of the room, her eyes filled with concern as she watched the medical staff prepare for the procedure. The surgery was swift, the doctor's claws sure as they worked to remove the cast and extract the excess glue with syringes. Plankton slept through it all, his body completely relaxed as Karen held his hand. Hanna waited outside as they finished. When it was done, the doctor replaced the cast with a bandage wrapped around the leg. "He'll be fine," the doctor told Karen, his voice matter-of-fact. "The anesthesia should wear off soon. We'll keep an eye on him as he wakes up." They wheeled Plankton into recovery, his body still and his chest rising and falling with even breaths. Karen stayed by his side, her hand in his. Hanna follows them. His recovery room was quiet. Plankton was out like a light, his antennae still and his tiny body completely relaxed against the pillows. Karen sat next to him, her hand still holding his. Hanna hovered near the door, watching. Karen leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "You know, Plankton, you've got more heart than you let on," she said, her eyes filled with admiration. "You're so strong, going through this." Hanna smiled at the tender moment. The doctor cleared his throat, his demeanor shifting from serious to slightly amused. "Now, before he wakes up, I should mention that the sedative can have some funny effects on his brain. It's perfectly normal," he assured them, his eyes twinkling behind his mask. "He might say or do things that seem out of character." Karen nodded, her grip on Plankton's hand not wavering. "What kind of things?" Hanna asked, her curiosity piqued. "Well, it's difficult to predict," the doctor said, his tone lightening. "Some patients become extremely chatty, others may be a little loopy. He might say things he doesn't normally say or do things that are out of his character." Karen smiled slightly, thinking of Plankton's usual demeanor. "But don't worry," the doctor assured them. "It's all part of the process. He'll be back to his usual self shortly." A line of drool had formed at the corner of his mouth. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight. "Look at him," Hanna whispered. "He looks so innocent when he's out cold." Karen reached over with a tissue and carefully wiped his mouth. "He's going to hate that when he wakes up," she mused. Hanna chuckled, her eyes still on him. "It's kind of cute, though," she said. Yet Plankton remained oblivious, his chest rising and falling evenly as they waited for the sedative to wear off. Minutes ticked by, their conversation keeping the silence at bay. The doctor's words hung in the air like a teaser to an unpredictable joke. What would Plankton say or do when he woke up?

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 22 Hanna emerged from the guest room, her eyes red from crying. She saw Plankton asleep on the couch and felt a pang of sadness. Her steps were quiet as she approached, not wanting to disturb him. Carefully, she reached over and adjusted the pillow under his cast, trying to make him as comfortable as possible without waking him. His snores grew quieter, his body sinking into the cushions. "Let him rest," Karen whispered as she smiled at Hanna's gesture. When Plankton next wakes up from his nap he got his crutches and maneuvered himself down the hall. He heard some laughter from the guest room, and decided to eavesdrop, his antennae twitching as he listened. "He's so stubborn," Karen chuckled. "But that's one of the many things I love about him." Hanna giggled. "You have to admit, though, his post-surgery ramblings were pretty entertaining." Plankton felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, his ego bruised. He had forgotten about the possible loopy influence of the anesthesia. He listened closer, peering through the slightly open door. "He thought the lamp was a jellyfish! I've never seen him so out of it," Karen says. Plankton's eye narrowed then Hanna spoke again. "And the way he talked about his 'leg stand' like it was a lost artifact!" Hanna laughs, her voice light and carefree. "But the car ride home... I can't believe he said 'Hanna you look okay today but don't tell my wife Karen' I just..." Plankton's face burns with embarrassment as he hears them recount his delirious moments. He shifts his weight on his crutches, trying to decide whether to confront them or retreat back to the living room. He didn't recall any of it. "And the snoring!" Hanna mimics his snores, her voice nasally and loud, causing Karen to burst into laughter. "Oh I'm not tired!" She mimics as she once again makes snorish sounds and snorts as Karen tried not to laugh. "And with his mouth all... open; never seen anything so pathetic.." Hanna says, when Plankton backed up with his crutches his one eye glistening with unshed tears with a squeaky inhale, alerting both of them. They both froze, Hanna's hand covering her mouth. Plankton stood there for a moment, his face red and his heart racing before simply shaking his head. Without a word, he went into his own room, slamming the door. The silence that fell was deafening, and Karen's laughter quickly turned into a worried frown. She hurried after him, her eyes darting to their bedroom door, where Plankton had slammed it. "Plankton, wait," she called out, her voice gentle but firm. She knew he was upset, but she had to talk to him. Hanna's laughter faded away, her eyes wide with shock. "I-I didn't mean to upset him," she stuttered, her voice filled with remorse. "It was just our joke, I didn't think..." Karen placed a reassuring hand on Hanna's shoulder. "It's okay, Hanna. He's just sensitive right now. Let me talk to him." With a nod, Hanna stepped aside, allowing Karen to pass. Karen knocked gently on the closed door, her heart beating fast. "Plankton, can we talk?" she called, her tone soothing. The room remained silent for a few moments, then the door slowly creeaked open. Plankton was sitting on the edge of their bed, his crutches propped against the nightstand. His eye was red and puffy, and he looked up at her with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "I'm sorry," Karen began, sitting down next to him. "I know you're upset." "How could you let her laugh at me?" Plankton snapped, his voice shaking. "After everything I've been through?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "It's not like that, sweetie," she soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We weren't laughing at you, we were laughing with each other about the silly things you said when you were out of it." "Karen, that's laughing at me!" Plankton's voice was tight with pain, and not just from his leg. The thought that they had been mocking him was too much. He had always been the butt of everyone's joke, and now, when he was at his most vulnerable, it felt like his own wife and friends were joining in. Karen sighed, moving closer to him. "Plankton, you know we'd never do that. We care about you to much. We were just trying to find some humor in a difficult situation." He looked away, his antennae drooping. "I know, I know," he murmured. "It's just that... I don't like being seen as weak." Karen nodded, understanding. "I get that. But you're not weak for needing help. You're strong for admitting when you do. And we're here for you, no matter what." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're still the same Plankton to us." Hanna hovered outside the doorway, listening intently. Her heart felt heavy with regret. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. It had been a misstep, a poor attempt to find lightness in the heavy situation. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open a crack. "Plankton," she called softly. "Ca--" "I don't want to talk to you right now," Plankton said, his voice tight. Hanna's face fell, the rejection stinging. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I really didn't mean to upset you. I was just trying to make li—" "You're always trying," Plankton snapped, cutting her off. "I can't even stand up without these crutches," he said, tearing up. "And you're in there, laughing about it?!" "Plankton, please," Hanna pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears. "We weren't laughing at you. We were just... trying to make the best of a bad situation. You know that." But Plankton was too hurt to hear reason. His pride was bruised, and the idea that his vulnerability was a source of amusement for others was unbearable. "I don't want you here," he said, his voice shaking. "I can't stand the sight of you." Hanna's heart shattered at his words. She had only wanted to help, to make him feel better, but instead, she had managed to wound him deeper. She took a step back, her cheeks flushing with shame. "I'm sor—" But Plankton interrupted again. "I said I don't want to talk," he said through gritted teeth. "Just... just leave me alone." With that, he swung his legs off the bed, grabbing his crutches. The pain shot through his leg like a lightning bolt, but he ignored it, determined to stand. Hanna took another step back, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Karen squeezed her hand, giving her a comforting look. "Give him some space, Hanna," she whispered. "He'll calm down." Hanna nodded, her throat tight with unspoken apologies. As Plankton stood, Karen quickly helped adjust his crutches, her expression a mix of concern and pity. "Let's go to the living room," she suggested, guiding him carefully. Plankton hobbled along. Once they were settled again, the tension in the room was palpable. Hanna hovered in the doorway, uncertain of how to apologize or make things right. Her eyes met Plankton's, his normally sharp gaze clouded by pain and hurt. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper. He didn't acknowledge her. Instead, he turned his attention to Karen as they sat on the couch. "What's the plan for today?" he asked, his voice still gruff but trying to sound normal. Karen looked at him for a moment, weighing her words before answering. "Well, you need to stay off that leg as much as possible. So maybe just some rest, and I'll get you set up with a nice little area right here." Hanna stood silently in the corner, her arms folded across her chest. Plankton's words from earlier still stung, and she was unsure if she should offer to help or give him the space he had demanded. She noticed the way his antennae twitched every time he shifted his weight on the crutches, the pain clearly visible on his face.

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 10 Patrick then notices Plankton's mouth now started to drool. "Ew, Plankton," he says, his voice a mix of disgust and fascination. "Why is your mouth leaking?" Sponge Bob laughs quietly, his hand covering his mouth. "It's just drool. When we're asleep, our saliva production doesn't stop. But since we're not swallowing like we do when we're awake, it can build up and sometimes dribble out." Patrick's eyes widen further. "But why is it coming out?" he asks. "It's because he's really relaxed and his mouth is open. And Plankton just happened to drool a little, Pat..." Patrick's expression doesn't change, his curiosity unabated. "But why does it hang like that?" he asks, his index finger pointing at the string of drool. Sponge Bob sighs, his laughter fading. "It's because the muscles that hold his mouth closed are relaxed, Patrick," he says, his tone patient. "And sometimes, when we're really deep in sleep, our saliva can just...fall out." Patrick nods slowly, his eyes never leaving Plankton's mouth. "But what if it gets on his leg cast?" he whispers, his voice filled with concern. Sponge Bob looks over at the wheelchair, where Plankton is currently snoring away. Karen, who has been quietly listening to the exchange, smiles over her shoulder. "Don't worry, Patrick," she says. "It's like his brain is on sleep mode, so he doesn't react the same way he would when he's awake." Patrick nods, his thoughts swirling. He continues to stare at Plankton's drooling mouth, his curiosity now piqued. "But what about when he wakes up?" he whispers. "Will he kn-" Before Patrick can finish his question, Plankton starts to stir, his snores morphing into a tiny grunt. Karen quickly moves forward, gently wiping the drool from his mouth with a cloth. "It's okay, Plankton," she says soothingly. "Let's get you cleaned up," she whispers. Sponge Bob and Patrick watch as Karen carefully cleans Plankton's mouth and chin, her movements precise and gentle. Plankton's eye flutters open, his gaze unfocused. "What...what's going on?" he asks, his voice groggy. "You just fell asleep, buddy," Sponge Bob says, his voice filled with sympathy. "You needed the rest." Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae twitching. "I didn't fall asleep," he insists. "I was just..." But his protests are cut short as he notices the cloth in Karen's hand. "What's this?" he asks, his voice sharper. Karen holds up the cloth. "Just a little drool," she says, her tone gentle. Plankton's face reddens with embarrassment, his antennae drooping, his pride bruised. Patrick giggles, his eyes sparkling. Plankton looks at him, his expression skeptical as Patrick's laughter fills the room, and his pride is more fragile than ever. Plankton's glare at Patrick doesn't waver, his eye narrowing as Patrick's eyes twinkle with mischief, unfazed. Patrick, still chuckling, leans in closer to Plankton. "You know, Plankton," he whispers, his voice filled with mock concern, "you snore." Plankton's face reddens more. "I do not!" he snaps. Karen and Sponge Bob exchange a knowing look, trying to hold in their laughter. "You do," Patrick says, his voice still low. Plankton's eye widens. "What?" he asks, his voice filled with disbelief. "You snore," Patrick says, his giggle escaping. Plankton's antennae wobble with anger. "I do not snore!" he insists, his voice louder. Sponge Bob puts a hand on Patrick's shoulder. "Why don't we keep it down?" he suggests, trying to lighten the mood. But Patrick's curiosity has been piqued. "How do you know?" Patrick asks, his voice innocent. "You've never heard yourself snore." Sponge Bob chuckles, his hand still on Patrick's shoulder. "Because I just...I was thinking really loudly?" Karen smiles warmly from the kitchen, knowing the truth. Patrick's laughter grows louder, his body shaking. "Thinking loudly doesn't make you snore," he says. Plankton's eye narrows. "Well, then how'd you know?" he demands. Patrick's grin spreads across his face. "Because we heard you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah, Plankton," he admits, his voice filled with amusement. Plankton's antennae twitch with irritation. "You heard me?" he repeats, his voice unbelieving. "Yeah," Patrick says, his eyes wide with innocence. "Just now." Sponge Bob tries to change the subject, his hand still on Patrick's shoulder. "Why don't we talk about something else?" he suggests. But Patrick is not to be deterred. "I think Karen got it on video!" Plankton's antennae shoot up in alarm. "Video?" he echoes, his eye widening in horror. "You didn't..." But Karen's laughter confirms his fears. "It's just for fun, Plankton," she says, her voice filled with mirth. She holds up her camera for him to see. The room fills with their laughter, except for Plankton, whose face is a picture of humiliation. "It's not funny!" he snaps, his voice sharp. His antennae quiver with anger. Sponge Bob's laughter fades as he looks at his friend. "It's getting late Pat..." Patrick nods, his smile fading. "Okay, okay," he says, standing up. Sponge Bob nods, his expression sympathetic. "I can see you tomorrow, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. Plankton smiles at him. "Thanks," he says, before wheeling himself to his bedroom as SpongeBob and Patrick leave. Karen follows Plankton back to their bedroom. Once Plankton is settled in bed, Karen sits beside him. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks softly. Plankton's face contorts into a grimace. "Talk about what?" "You know," she says, keeping her voice calm. "The snoring and drooling?" Plankton sighs, his tiny frame shifting under the covers. "It's just embarrassing," he admits, his antennae drooping. Karen reaches out, patting his shoulder. "It's normal, Plankton." "Whatever. Goodnight, my sweets." He says, pulling up the covers. Karen smiles. "Goodnight to you too, Mr. Grumpy," she teases, her voice filled with affection. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 14 Hanna wipes her eyes, her voice shaky. "I-I think I should go," she says. Karen stands up, rushing over to her. "No, wait. What happened?" she asks, her concern evident. Hanna sniffs, trying to compose herself. "He just... he doesn't want me here," she manages. Karen's face falls. "I'm sorry," she says, taking Hanna's hand. "He's just in a lot of pain. I know he can be difficult," she says gently. "But he's just scared and frustrated." Hanna nods, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I know," she says. "But I can't help if he won't let me in." Karen sighs, squeezing her hand. "Give him some time," she advises. "You are staying with us, and we all outta try getting along. I'll go and check on him." With a nod, Hanna releases Karen's hand and sits back down, her thoughts racing. She wonders if she's overstepped or if Plankton will ever accept her help. The silence in the room stretches out, filled only with the ticking of a clock on the wall. Meanwhile, Karen goes to their bedroom door. "Plankton?" she calls out softly. "Can I come in?" There's no answer at first, just the sound of his ragged breathing. She opens the door slowly, finding him sitting on the bed. His antennae are drooped and his eye is red-rimmed. "What?" he says, his voice harsher than he intended. Karen sighs, sitting down beside him. "Hanna's upset," she says simply. Plankton looks away, his antennae twitching. "Good," he says, his tone still icy. "I don't want her here." Karen sighs. "You know she's only trying to help," she says. "And she's not the only one. We all are." Plankton's antennae drop further. "I don't want any of this," he says, his voice smaller. "I don't want to be the one who needs help." Karen sighs, placing a hand on his arm. "But you do," she says gently. "And that's not a bad thing. How's the leg feeling?" Plankton glowers but doesn't pull away. "It hurts," he admits. Karen nods. "I'll get your meds," she says. When she returns, she finds Plankton still sitting there, his gaze fixed on his cast. "Here," she says, handing him the pill bottle. He takes them without a word, swallowing them quickly. Karen sits back down next to him. "You know, sometimes letting people in can make the hard times easier," she says. "Yet it's also fine if you'd like space." She kisses his forehead. "Now, rest.." Plankton's antennae lift slightly. "I don't want to be alone," he admits, his voice barely a whisper. Karen's eyes widen slightly, surprised by his vulnerability. "You don't have to be," she says, taking his hand. "We're all here for you." They sit in silence for a few moments, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. Then, with a sigh, Plankton leans into her, his antennae drooping against her shoulder. "Thank you," he whispers. Karen wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer. "You're welcome," she murmurs. "We're a team." As they sit there, the tension in Plankton's body gradually eases, his breathing slowing down. Karen feels his grip on her hand loosen, his eyelid flicker closed. The fight drains out of him, and he surrenders to sleep. Karen shifts, so he's more comfortable, pulling a blanket over his cast-covered leg. The soft fabric slides over the plaster, and she tucks him in. When she returns to the living room, Hanna's eyes are still red, but she's composed herself. "Is he okay?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen nods, sitting beside her. "He's asleep," she says. "But he's...going through a lot." Hanna nods, her own eyes welling up again. "What can I do to help?" she asks. Karen looks at her, her gaze thoughtful. "Just be patient with him," she advises. "He's not used to being dependent on others." Hanna nods, taking a deep breath. "Okay," she says. "How do you think I can be of help?" Karen smiles. "Just be there," she says. "And maybe find something that doesn't involve...babying him." Hanna nods determinedly. Later, Plankton wakes up, emerging out to the living room where Karen and Hanna sat, hobbling as he navigates with his crutches. "What are we watching?" he asks, his tone softer. They're on the couch, a movie playing on the TV, their heads close together as they whisper about the plot. Karen looks up, her smile genuine. "Just a little something to pass the time," she says, patting the cushion next to Hanna. "You wanna join?" Plankton hesitates, his antennae twitching. Then, with a sigh, he nods, moving towards them. Hanna looks up at him, her smile slightly tentative. "It's an adventure film," she says. "It's got a little of everything." Plankton eases himself onto the couch, his cast thumping against the cushions. He sits between them, his crutches propped against the side. Hanna's eyes dart to him before returning quickly to the television. Karen gives him a side hug, her hand resting comfortably on his shoulder. "Thanks," he murmurs. The film plays, and they sit in relative quiet, the occasional laugh or gasp filling the room. Hanna glances at him every so often. During a particularly intense scene, she reaches for the bowl of popcorn. "Want some?" she asks quietly. Plankton nods, extending his arm. She carefully picks out a few kernels, placing them in his hand. The gesture is small, but it feels like a peace offering. He munches on them, his gaze still on the screen, but his antennae relaxing. Karen notices the ease in the atmosphere and smiles to herself. Maybe this was what they needed, she thinks. As the credits roll, Hanna jumps up, her expression hopeful. "How about we play a game?" she suggests, her voice careful not to disrupt the peace. Plankton looks at her, his eye assessing. "What kind of game?" he asks, his voice still guarded. Hanna stands up. "How about something easy?" she says. "Like charades? It'll keep us entertained without being too strenuous for Plankto-" "I can still think, you know," Plankton snaps, his antennae waving in irritation. Hanna's smile falters, but she nods. "Of course," she says. "It's just that I don't wa-" "To sit around doing nothing," he finishes for her. "I know, I know. You just think it's all fun and games." Hanna swallows her retort, nodding. "Okay, I get it," she says. "How about something else? Maybe a puzzle?" Karen interjects, sensing the tension. "That sounds like a great idea," she says brightly. "Let's all do it together on the floor." With a grumble, Plankton starts to stand, using his crutches to balance his weight. Hanna quickly moves to his side, offering her arm for support. He glares at her. "I can do it myself," he snaps. Karen watches them, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's okay," she says, picking up a puzzle box from the coffee table. "Let's just get started." Plankton lowers himself to the floor, setting the crutches down. He grimaces, his leg muscles protesting as he shifts his weight to his good side. Using his arms for leverage, he crawls over to the space they've cleared for the puzzle. Hanna watches, worry etched on her face. "Do you want me to help? Here, le-" "I've got it," Plankton says quickly, cutting her off. He doesn't want to admit how much the simple act of getting to the floor has exhausted him. His pride won't allow it. With a grunt, he reaches the puzzle area and flops down, his cast scraping against the carpet. Karen sets the box down, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" Hanna asks. "I said I've got it," he repeats, his voice firm. He grabs a puzzle piece, his small hands shaking slightly as he tries to fit it into place. Hanna opens her mouth to protest, but Karen gives her a look, silencing her. They watch as Plankton struggles, his face contorted with effort. His leg feels like a dead weight, but he refuses to show.

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 21 The next morning, Plankton stirred, his eye opening slowly. The sunlight streamed in through the living room windows, highlighting the bandage around his leg. He blinked a few times, his memory of the previous day coming back in fuzzy fragments. He looked down at the crutches by his side, his mind piecing together the events. "What happened?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. Karen emerged from the kitchen, seeing him awake. She smiled warmly. "How's the leg today?" she asked, approaching the couch. Hanna, who was already up, had sat down on the other couch. Plankton looked around, his gaze landing on his crutches. "It's... fine," he said, his voice groggy. He tried to sit up, but the pain shot through his leg, causing him to yelp. Hanna jumped up, rushing over to help support him. "Oh, be ca---" "I don't need your help," he snapped, his frustration boiling over. Karen watched the exchange with a knowing look. She knew his pride could be stubborn. "What happened?" he repeated, his antennae twitching with agitation. "Where's my... where's my...?" "Your cast," Karen finished for him. "It's off. The doctor replaced it with a bandage." Plankton frowned. "Why don't I recall..." "It's the medication," Hanna said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "It m-" "Don't tell me what I know," Plankton snapped, his voice sharp. Hanna took a step back, surprise etched on her features. "I just... I just wanted t---" "I don't need you telling me what I know about my own body," he continued, his eye narrowing. Hanna sighed, knowing his pride was wounded. "Plank-" "Let's not fight, you two," Karen interrupted, her tone firm but kind. Plankton looked away, his antennas drooping. "I just... I just don't remember," he mumbled, his voice smaller. Hanna knelt beside him, her expression softening. "You were under anesthesia, remember?" she said gently. "You might not remember much from the sur—" "I know what happened," Plankton snapped, his eye flashing with something that wasn't quite anger, but rather desperation. "Don't baby me, Hanna. Just... don't." Hanna's mouth dropped open, surprised by his harshness. "Plankton, I-I-I-I…" He cut her off, his voice getting louder. "I don't need you to tell me what I felt or what I said. It's my leg, my surgery!" Hanna took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Okay, okay," she said, her hands up in surrender. "I'm just trying to he-" But Plankton was already getting worked up. "Can't you just leave me alone?" he barked, his frustration mounting. Hanna stood her ground, her eyes filled with a mix of surprise and sadness. "I'm only trying to help," Hanna said. "You're still weak from the surgery." Despite trying to tell him to take it easy, the word 'weak' hit Plankton. Hard. "I don't want you here," he said coldly, his voice eerily calm. Hanna's eyes widened, hurt shimmering in them. "Plankton, I'm not leaving, but w---" "You heard me," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "I don't need you." Hanna swallowed hard, trying to hold back tears. "But you're still recovering," she whispered. "I can't just leave you." Plankton's eye narrowed. "I said I don't want you here," he repeated, his voice like a knife. "You don't get to decide that, Hanna. You've already done enough." "But I--" "I said I DON'T WANT YOU HERE! Just get out." Hanna stood there, stunned by his words. She felt as though she'd been slapped in the face. Tears threatened to spill, but she held them back, her chest tight with hurt. Karen stepped in, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hanna, maybe we should give him some space," she suggested, her voice calm. Hanna's eyes flitted to Karen's, searching for understanding. "He's feeling vulnerable," Karen explained gently. "The surgery, the recovery... it's all taking a toll on his pride. He's used to being the one who's in control, and right now, he's not. It's hard for him to accept help." Hanna nodded, though her eyes were still misty. "I just want to help," she murmured. Karen's gaze softened. "I know you do, Hanna. And you've been wonderful. But sometimes, when we offer help, it can accidentally make someone feel weaker." "I didn't mean to do that," Hanna said, her voice small. Karen gave her a comforting squeeze. "I know. But think about it from his perspective. He's always been so independent, so strong-willed. Now, he's stuck in a situation where he can't do everything himself. It's a blow to his ego." Hanna nodded slowly, understanding beginning to dawn on her. "But I was just trying to make sure he's okay. I didn't mean to say he's we-" "I know you didn't," Karen interjected quickly. "But to Plankton, those words might feel like you're questioning his strength." She paused, letting that sink in. "He's always been the one to pull himself up by his own bootstraps, figuratively speaking," she continued. "This whole experience has been a stark reminder that he's not as invincible as he'd like to believe." Hanna took a deep breath, nodding. "I see," she said finally. They watched as Plankton tried to shift his weight on the couch, his bandaged leg clearly causing discomfort. Hanna felt a pang of guilt for upsetting him, albeit unintentionally. With a heavy heart, she turned and headed towards their guest room, giving him the space as requested. The hallway felt cooler without his snappy retorts and quick wit. She knew his words were driven by pain and frustration, but they still stung. Once inside the guest room, Hanna sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the closed door. The silence was deafening, her thoughts racing. She hadn't meant to make Plankton feel weak, only to assist him in his time of need. It was clear, though, that she had inadvertently stepped on a sensitive area, one she had overlooked due to her own eagerness to support. In the living room, Karen walked over to Plankton, his breaths still heavy with frustration. "You know she didn't mean anything by it," she said softly. "She's just worried about you." Plankton's antennae twitched. "I know," he said gruffly. "But I can't have her seeing me like this." Karen sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You're not weak, Plankton," she assured him. "You're just... Plankton. And it's okay to take it easy." He sighed, his body slumping into the couch. "I know it's just... I don't like being dependent on others." Karen nodded. "I know, baby. And you'll still always be the Plankton I fell in love with. Your my charming, clever, albeit tiny, troublemaker of a husband, and nothing changes that." He leaned into her, his expression softening. "Thanks, Karen," he murmured. Karen kissed his forehead. "Now, let's get you set up with some pain meds, okay?" Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping slightly. Karen returned from the kitchen with a glass of water and a small plastic cup holding his pills. She handed them to him carefully, her expression a mixture of concern and love as he took them. As the medication took effect, the pain in his leg began to ease. Plankton's eye started to droop, his body relaxing into the cushions. Karen pulled a soft blanket over him, his snores soon filling the room.

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 18 "What are you guys doing here?" he asked, his voice still gruff but with a hint of confusion. Sponge Bob smiled, his thumb still tracing the edge of Plankton's cast. "We just wanted to make sure you're okay," he said. Plankton's antennae twitched. "I'm fine," he said, his tone gruff. Karen stood up, her movements smooth and efficient. "Why don't we get you into your chair?" she suggested, picking up his crutches. Plankton nodded, his movements slow and deliberate as he carefully swung his casted leg over the side of the couch. With a grunt, he hoisted himself up, balancing on his good leg. Patrick watched, his eyes wide with interest. "Look at him go," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "It's like he's learning to walk all over again like a wittle baby." Plankton shot Patrick a glare, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm not a baby!" he snapped, his voice echoing in the quiet living room. "Patrick, that's not helping," Hanna whispered, trying not to laugh. Sponge Bob's expression was one of shock. "Patrick, that's not nice," he admonished gently. Patrick scrunched his face up in confusion. "But he looks like one," he said, his voice innocent. Plankton huffed. "No, I'm not!" But Patrick's on a roll. "You know what else babies have?" he said, his voice rising. "Naps!" Plankton's face grew redder, his antennae twitching with anger. "Patrick," Hanna warned, but Patrick was on a roll. "Hey, Plankie, you need help while you're all broken. Wa-a-agh, wa-a-agh!" The room fell silent. Plankton stared at Patrick, his single eye twitching. "That's it," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I guess I'll just have to take naps like a baby now." Hanna could see the hurt in his eye. With a quick motion, Plankton set down his crutches and stood up, hopping on one foot. Without another word, he turned and limped away, his casted leg thumping against the floor with each step as he headed towards his bedroom. The group watched, stunned, as he closed the door behind him with a slam. Hanna's laughter died in her throat, replaced by a look of horror. "Oh no," she whispered. Karen sighed, setting down the magazines. "I'll go talk to him," she said firmly. But before she could move, they heard sobs from behind the door. Her heart aching, she knocked softly. "Plankton, are you okay?" The sobs grew louder, and she exchanged worried glances with Sponge Bob and Patrick, who looked equally mortified. "I'll go," Sponge Bob volunteered, standing up. He approached the door, his steps tentative. "Plankton, buddy, it's me," he said gently. "Can I come in?" The sobbing subsided for a moment before Plankton's voice, muffled by the door, replied, "I don't want to see any of you right now." The words hit Hanna like a brick, her chest tightening with sadness. Sponge Bob looked back at them, his expression pained. He shrugged helplessly before sitting back down. Patrick's face fell. "I didn't mean to make him cry," he said, his voice small. Hanna nodded, her eyes still on the closed door. "We know you didn't, Patrick," she said, trying to comfort him. "But sometimes words can hurt, even if we don't mean them to." Sponge Bob placed a hand on Patrick's shoulder. "We'll apologize later," he said firmly. "But right now, let's just give him some space." They both left, the only sound being Plankton's muted sobs. Karen stood, her heart heavy with disappointment at his pain. She moved to the door, wanting to comfort Plankton but respecting his request for solitude. Her hand hovered above the knob, unsure of what to do. Through the crack in the door, she could see Plankton's form hunched over his bed, his tiny fists clenched. His sobs grew quieter, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps. Karen's chest tightened, watching his vulnerability. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open, moving slowly towards the bed. "Plankton," she said softly, her voice soothing. He looked up, his eye red and swollen. "I just want to check on you," she said, her tone gentle. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but I'm here." He nodded, his antennae drooping. Karen sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb his cast. "You've been through a lot," she said, her voice soft. "It's okay to feel upset." Plankton's chest heaved, his sobs growing softer. "But you know, tomorrow we have that appointment with the doctor," Karen reminded him gently. "They'll check how your leg's doing, make sure everything's on track. And Hanna is coming along, as her home is still under repair." Plankton sniffled, his eye still wet. "Yeah, I know," he mumbled, his voice small. Karen smiled gently. "But you don't have to push yourself too hard. You're still healing." The next morning, Karen gets out of bed early, the sun not yet fully risen outside. She can hear Plankton's snores as she sneaks past his bed. Hanna stirs in the guest room, waking up. "How's he doing?" she asks, coming into their room. "Asleep," Karen whispers. "Let's get ready for his appointment." Hanna nods. "What time is it?" "Five thirty," Karen says, glancing at her clock. "We have to leave in a moment." Plankton's snores grow softer. Hanna looks at Karen, who's gathering his crutches. "Should we wake him?" Karen nods. "We have to. The doctor wanted us there early to check the cast." They tiptoe over to Plankton's bedside. Karen places a hand on his shoulder. "Plankton, sweetie," she says gently. "Time to wake up." His snores stop abruptly, and his single eye snaps open. "What's going on?" he croaks, his voice rough from sleep. Hanna smiles tentatively. "We have an appointment with the doctor," Karen reminds him, helping him sit up. "We need to get going." Plankton groans, his casted leg thumping against the bedframe. "Okay, okay," he says, rubbing his eye. Karen loaded his wheelchair into the back as Plankton used his crutches to get in the car. The drive was quiet, each of them lost in their thoughts. Plankton was nervous about the doctor's visit, his leg throbbing with each bump in the road. Hanna sat beside him. When they arrived at the hospital, the waiting room was deserted except for the receptionist, who gave them a knowing smile. "Mr. Plankton," she said, her voice cheerful. "Right this way." Plankton grimaced as he wheeled himself in. The doctor, a stern-looking crab, took one look at his cast and said, "Ah, yes. Your appointment. Let's have a look." Setting up the x-ray, the doctor turns to Plankton, his expression professional. "You've got quite the cast," he says, eyeing it curiously. Plankton nods, gritting his teeth as he lifts his leg up onto the examination table. Karen's hand rests on his shoulder, offering silent support. The doctor taps the cast. "How's the pain?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "Better," he says, his voice strained. Karen squeezes his shoulder. Hanna, seated beside Karen, holds her hand.

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 4 After a while, Plankton's snores begin to quiet, and he stirs. Karen is by his side, her hand on his shoulder as his eye opens. "Hey," she whispers. He groans in his wheelchair. "How are you feeling?" she asks, her voice filled with concern. "Tired," he admits, his eye still half-closed. "But I'm okay." Sandy comes back into the living room, drying her hands. "You know, Karen," she says, "I can take the first shift. Why don't you get some sleep too?" Karen nods gratefully, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. "Thank you, Sandy. I really could use some rest." Sandy takes her place by Plankton's side. "I've got it from here. Call if you need anything." Karen smiles and heads to the guest room, her footsteps heavy with fatigue. Plankton shifts in his wheelchair, his cast cumbersome. The pain has receded into a dull throb, the medication doing its job. "How long have I been out?" he asks, his voice slurred with sleep. "A few," Sandy replies, her voice gentle. "You needed it." He nods slowly, his antennae drooping. "What time is it?" Sandy glances at the clock on the wall. "Almost noon," she says. "The doctor said you'd be sleepy for a day or two, so we figured we'd let you rest." Plankton's eye opens wider at that, his usual determination flaring. "Noon?" Sandy nods. "You've had a long night. And we've got lots of movies to watch, and books, if you're up for it." Plankton manages a nod. "So, tell me about this...this tibiofibular thing," Sandy asks, curiosity piqued. "What did they do?" He shrugs, his eye half-closed. "I don't know, exactly. Something with a special ossifying glue, I think." Sandy leans forward, her eyes wide. "Ossifying glue? That sounds intense." Plankton nods. "They had to repair the break. So, it's like... a super glue for bones." His hand hovers over the cast, feeling awkward. "It's supposed to hold it all together until it heals. It's naturally osteogenic and dissolves with time and healing on it's own. Six weeks in the cast, minimum." Sandy's face scrunches up in sympathy. "Six weeks? That's a long time." Plankton nods again, his head lolling slightly. Sandy can see the exhaustion settling back in. "I'll be back to normal eventually.." "Do you remember anything from the surgery?" she asks, hoping to keep his mind engaged. Plankton shakes his head, his antennae flopping. "Nope. Just woke up with this thing on," he says quickly, gesturing to the cast. Sandy nods, trying to think of something to say. "They have to put a rod in, right?" she asks. "No, no rod," he says, his voice thick with frustration. He feels a bit embarrassed with the conversation. "They used the fancy glue to hold everything together. No pins.." Sandy nods, her eyes wide with interest. "That's so cool. What's it like? Surgery, I mean. Like, did you see anything?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "Not really. It's all a blur. Just remember waking up with this," he says, gesturing to the cast encasing his leg. "Wait," Sandy asks. "You mean you weren't awake for any of it?" Plankton shrugs, but Sandy's not quite finished, ignoring his clear desire to move on from the topic. Her eyes are wide with wonder. "But what about dreams?" Sandy asks. "Did you have any drea------" He cuts her off sharply, his antennae twitching. "No, I didn't. I don't remember a thing." But Sandy's curiosity isn't deterred. "What was it like when you wo-" Plankton's eye opens, his gaze intense. "Look, I don't know what you want me to say." His voice has an edge of irritation. "And so I don't have to explain it again, it's a serious surgery. They had to repair the break in my leg with a special glue that makes the bones stick together, Sandy. So JUST. LET. IT. GO." Sandy's cheeks flush slightly at his tone. "I'm just trying to understand, Plankton. I didn't mean t---" But he waves her off, his frustration clear. "I know. But I don't want to talk about it. Okay?" Plankton's voice is tight. Sandy nods quickly, apologizing. "Of course. I'll...I'll just get you some water." She stands up, leaving Plankton to his thoughts, as Karen comes back. Karen watches her friend disappear into the kitchen, a worried look crossing her face. "Everything okay?" she asks, her voice low. "I think I might have pushed a bit too hard," Sandy admits, setting the water down within reach. "I didn't mean to, I just wanna underst--" Plankton cuts her off, his frustration growing. "I SAID, I don't remember," he snaps. Karen's eyes widen at his harsh tone. Sandy nods. "I'm sor-" But Plankton isn't ready to let it go. "That's IT." His voice is tight, his antennae quivering with annoyance. "It's not your business SANDY!" Karen steps in quickly, her voice calm. "It's okay, Plankton. Sandy didn't mean to upset you." Sandy's eyes are filled with remorse. "I'm really sorry. I didn't kno—" But Plankton's not having it. "I don't care," he snaps. "Just... just STOP, and leave me alone!" His antennae quiver with agitation, his eye flashing with irritation. Karen's heart squeezes at the pain she sees in his gaze. Sandy's eyes fill with tears at his harshness, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, turning to leave the room. Karen quickly moves to block her. "No, no," Karen says firmly. "You didn't do anything wrong. Plankton, hon, we're just trying to be here for you." But Plankton's mood has shifted in agitation aimed at Sandy's curiosity. "Why do you keep asking?" he says, his voice tight. "I don't know what you expect me to say!" His antennae twitch with annoyance. Sandy's cheeks flush. "I just... I'm sorry," she stammers, backpedaling. "I'm just curious, I didn't mean to make you uncomf-" "Well, it's none of your business!" Plankton's voice is sharp, his antennae standing on end. Karen sighs, feeling the tension in the room. She knows Plankton's mood can swing with his pain levels, yet she doesn't want Sandy to feel unwelcome. Sandy's eyes water, hurt by his words. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to help," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. Karen steps closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Why do you keep asking!" Plankton's question lingers in the air, his antennae still quivering. Sandy swallows hard. "It's just..." Karen steps in, her voice soft. "It's okay, Sandy. Let's just give him some space." She nods towards the kitchen, and Sandy follows her. Once out of earshot, Sandy's eyes fill with tears. "I didn't mean to upset him," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen squeezes her hand. "It's not you. He's just in a lot of pain." She sighs. "And he's always been a bit...private about things. He's just not used to being vulnerable." Sandy nods, her gaze falling to the floor. "I know, but I just wanted to understand." Karen gives her a comforting smile. "We all do. But he's got to deal with this in his own way."

💉🎀🦴🏩🩹

ᴸᵉᵍ ᵘᵖ pt. 1 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏʸ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵃˡˡᵒʷ ˡᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵖⁱᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒᵒᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʷᵒ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒⁿᵈ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵖᵉᵃʳˡ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ᵈᵃʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ‧ "ᵂᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ; ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵖʳᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᶜᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵈ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᵇʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ!" ᴴᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵘᵗᵇᵘʳˢᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ⁱᵍⁿᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˡʸ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗᶠᵘˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ‧ ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃˢ ᵃ ˡⁱᵐⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵉʳᵐˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵃᵗᵉ ⁱᵗ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵐʷⁱᵗ!" "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʰᵃᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˡᵃⁿᵍᵘᵃᵍᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵒⁿᵉˢᵗˡʸ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉᵉʳˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃᵘᵗᵒᵐᵃᵗⁱᶜ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷⁿˢᶠᵒˡᵏ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᶜⁱᵛⁱˡ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷⁿ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᶻⁱᵖ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢʰʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵘʳˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ; ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᴹᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ‧ ᴾᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵉˣᶜˡᵘᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ To be cont. Pt. 2

daily reminder that you are a kid until you are 18 🫧🧋💟✨🎀🎀🎀🎀

ᴸᵉᵍ ᵘᵖ pt. 3 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᶜᵉᵈ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᶠᵃⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒᵖᵖˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉˢ ᵍᵒ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱʳᶜᵃˢᵉ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵖˢ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ˡᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᵂᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ‧ ᴮᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵗᵉʳⁱᵃˡ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵗᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵍᵃᶻᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ ᵏⁱᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʰᵘʳʳⁱᵉᵈˡʸ ʳᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿˡʸ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒʷ! ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵒˢᵘʳᵉ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵃᵘˡᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" To be cont. Pt. 4

ᴸᵉᵍ ᵘᵖ pt. 2 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃⁿʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷⁱᵖᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ⁱⁿᶠᵉʳⁱᵒʳ‧ "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵐᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢⁱᵗ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ‽ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ˢⁱⁿᵏ ⁱⁿ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵘᵖˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᵀʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵇᵘᶜᵏˡⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴸᵉᵐᵐᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏᶠᵘˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵉˡˡ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵘⁿᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ! ᴮᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵉᵃʳ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒⁿⁿᵉᶜᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴮᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵈᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ & ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᵁˢⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃʳᵐ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵐᵘˢᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈʳᵃᵍˢ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᶠᵘˡˡʸ ˢˡᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃᵛᵉˢᵈʳᵒᵖ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱˢᵉ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‽ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᴴᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ; ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ⸴ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ‧ To be cont. Pt. 3

ᶠᵒʳ ᴴᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵀʳᵘᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 3 4 2 ⟩ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴼʷ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜʳᵃᵈˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁿᵉᵉ ᵃˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵒᵗʸᵖᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ‧" ᴰᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ "ᴼᵘᶜʰ‧" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ⁱᵗ‧" ᵀʰᵉⁱʳ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜᵃˢᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃⁿᶜᵉˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵖᵒⁿᵉ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵖʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉˡˡʸ ʳᵘᵇˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ ʰᵒʷ ⁱˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ; ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵍᵘʸ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵈʳⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ 'ᵉᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᑫᵘⁱʳʳᵉˡ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ‧‧" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴬˡˢᵒ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ'ˢ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ ᶜᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ 'ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ' ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʰᵘᵈᵈˡᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒᵏᵉ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣯⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣸⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⠀⠀ ⠀⠠⣴⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡙⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢲⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣾⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠋⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢌⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⢀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄ ⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠉⠹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⡿ ⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠰⠛⢿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢐⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣷⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀ ⠛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠂⢹⠏⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣯⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣽⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣿⣽⣿⣟⣯⣿⡾⠟⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠐⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣟⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠋⠛⠛⠛⠿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⡿⠏⠁⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠿⣟⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣏⡏⠀⠀⠀⢣⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⠧⠤⠤⠔⠋⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡀⢀⣶⠤⠒⠀⢻⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢿⢿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠘⣿⠋⠁⠀⠙⢇⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢇⡞⠘⣧⠀⢖⡭⠞⢛⡄⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣿⣛⣥⠤⠤⢿⡄⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⡟⡱⠛⠙⠀⠀⠘⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀ ⢸⡏⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡀ ⠸⣧⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇ ⠀⣿⡄⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠆⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠀ ⠀⢹⡇⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⣼⡟⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡇⠀⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢳⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠸⣧⣀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠀⢀⣴⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠙⢷⣄⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣷⣦⣄⣀⣀⣠⣤⠾⠷⣦⣤⣤⡶⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Baby Moses law for abandoning newborns In Texas, if you have a newborn that you're unable to ca̢re for, you can bring your baby to a designated safe place with no questions asked. The Safe Haven law, also known as the Baby Moses law, gives parents who are unable to ca̢re for their child a safe and legal chøice to leαve their infant with an employee at a designated safe place—a hospıtal, fire station, free-standing emergency centers or emergency medical services (EMS) station. Then, your baby will receive medical ca̢re and be placed with an emergency provider. Information for Parents If you're thinking about bringing your baby to a designated Safe Haven, please read the information below: Your baby must be 60 days old or younger and unhἀrmed and safe. You may take your baby to any hospıtal, fire station, or emergency medical services (EMS) station in Texas. You need to give your baby to an employee who works at one of these safe places and tell this person that you want to leαve your baby at a Safe Haven. You may be asked by an employee for famıly or medical history to make sure that your baby receives the ca̢re they need. If you leαve your baby at a fire or EMS station, your baby may be taken to a hospıtal to receive any medical attention they need. Remember, If you leave your unhἀrmed infant at a Safe Haven, you will not be prosecuted for abandonment or neglect.

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These levels of sedation under anesthesia are defined by the American Society of Anesthesiologists (ASA) and are crucial in determining the appropriate level of sedation for each patient and procedure, ensuring patient safety and comfort throughout the perioperative period. Minimal Sedation: Also known as anxiolysis, minimal sedation involves a drug-induced state during which patients respond normally to verbal commands. Their cognitive function and physical coordination remain unaffected, and there is no compromise in airway reflexes or protective reflexes. This level of sedation is commonly used for procedures requiring minimal discomfort or anxiety relief, such as minor dental procedures or diagnostic tests. Moderate Sedation/Conscious Sedation: Moderate sedation, also referred to as conscious sedation, induces a drug-induced depression of consciousness, during which patients respond purposefully to verbal or light tactile stimulation. While maintaining spontaneous ventilation, patients may experience decreased anxiety and may have impaired cognitive function and physical coordination. However, they retain the ability to maintain their own airway and respond to commands. This level of sedation is commonly used for procedures such as endoscopic examinations, minor surgeries, or interventional radiology procedures. Deep Sedation: Deep sedation involves a drug-induced depression of consciousness, during which patients may not respond purposefully to verbal or tactile stimulation. Patients under deep sedation may require assistance in maintaining their airway, and spontaneous ventilation may be inadequate. However, patients still maintain cardiovascular function. This level of sedation is often used for procedures requiring significant analgesia and amnesia, such as major surgical procedures or certain diagnostic imaging studies. General Anesthesia: General anesthesia involves a drug-induced state during which patients are unarousable, even in the presence of painful stimulation. Patients under general anesthesia require assistance in maintaining their airway and ventilation, and cardiovascular function may be impaired. General anesthesia is characterized by a complete loss of consciousness and protective reflexes, allowing for surgical procedures to be performed without pain or awareness. This level of sedation is utilized for major surgical procedures or invasive diagnostic procedures where unconsciousness and muscle relaxation are necessary. Procedural sedation and analgesia (PSA) is a technique in which a sedating/dissociative medication is given, usually along with an analgesic medication, in order to perform non-surgical procedures on a patient. The overall goal is to induce a decreased level of consciousness while maintaining the patient's ability to breathe on their own. Airway protective reflexes are not compromised by this process

SANDY LEARNT A SECRET 2/2 The car ride home was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from Karen. Sandy drove carefully, avoiding potholes and bumps that might jar Plankton and extend his absence. She glanced at the rearview mirror, watching his still form in the backseat, his face a mask of zoned out oblivion. Karen sat next to Plankton. Her eyes never left his, willing him to blink, to move, to give any sign that he understood. They entered the Chum Bucket home. Sandy trailed behind, silent as Karen takes Plankton to their bedroom. Karen laid Plankton down on his bed, her hands shaking slightly as she pulled the blanket over his unmoving body. She tucked it in around him, smoothing out the wrinkles with tender strokes. Sandy took a seat by his side, her heart racing from the weight of what she'd just learned. Plankton lay there, completely still, his breathing shallow yet even. She studied his face, trying to read the secrets behind his glazed eye. It was eerie, yet in a strange way, like watching someone lost in a deep, unshakeable sleep. The room was bathed in soft light, the curtains filtering the harshness of the sun outside. The only sound was the faint tick of a clock on the nightstand and the even flow of air from the air conditioner. It was a contrast to the chaos of his seizure, and Sandy whispered, "You're safe here." Her eyes remained on his, waiting for the slightest movement. The minutes stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Then, as if waking from a deep slumber, Plankton's eye flickered. His gaze was unfocused, his pupil slowly expanding and contracting as he tried to adjust to the light, then confusion. She watched with bated breath as he blinked a few times. "Where… How?" he mumbled, his voice groggy and distant. "You had a… I saw you at the park, Plankton," Sandy said, her tone gentle. "You're home now. You're safe." Plankton's eye searched her face, the confusion deepening as he tried to piece together what happened. His gaze drifted to the window, where the world outside was a blur of colors and sounds. "Sandy?" he asked, his voice tentative. She nodded, her hand reaching out to squeeze his. "You're safe, Plankton. It's just..." But before Sandy could finish, he sat up with a start, his eye wide. "What happened?" He demands. Sandy's heart skipped a beat. "You had a seizure at the park," she explained. Plankton's hand flew to his face, his antennae drooping. "Oh, great," he murmured, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The realization of his condition in front of someone who didn't know was clear in his expression. Sandy felt a pang of regret. "It's okay, Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "It's just a part o..." "I know what it is!" Plankton snapped, cutting her off. His frustration was palpable, his body rigid with embarrassment. "I don't need you to explain it to me!" Sandy took a step back, her hand falling to her side. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. Plankton's chest heaved with the effort of holding back his anger. He knew Sandy was just trying to help, but the sudden spotlight on his condition felt like an invasion of his personal space. "I'm sorry, I just..." Sandy began, but Plankton's frustration was like a dam bursting. "You just what?" he countered, his voice sharp. Sandy's cheeks burned. "I'm sorry, I just didn't know how to help. I've never..." "Seen me like this?" Plankton finished for her, his voice still edgy. Sandy nodded, feeling a knot form in her stomach. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just wanna ask you wh..." "Don't," Plankton interrupted, his voice brittle. "I don't want to talk about it." Sandy nodded, feeling the sting of his words. She backed away, giving him space. "Okay," she said softly. "But if you eve..." "Just go," Plankton interrupted, his voice smaller now, his eye watering. "I need some time alone." Sandy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She knew his anger was a shield, a way to protect himself from the curiosity and sympathy he saw as invasive. She backed out of the room. She found Karen seated on the couch. "He ok?" Karen asked. Sandy nodded. "He's awake. He's just...upset?" Karen stood up, her expression a mix of relief and concern. "I'll go to him," she decided, heading to the bedroom. Sandy hovered by the door as Karen went in. "Plankton," Karen began, her voice gentle. "You're safe, love. It's ok." Sandy could see the tension in Karen as she approached the bed, her hand trembling as it reached out to touch Plankton's shoulder. His eye met hers, and for a moment, Sandy saw the raw pain and embarrassment in his gaze. "Let's all go to the living room," Karen whispered, her voice shaky. Plankton nodded. In the living room, the three of them sat down on the couch, the silence thick and uncomfortable. Sandy felt the urge to fill it with reassurances, but she held her tongue. Karen took Plankton's hand in hers, her thumb stroking the back of it in a comforting gesture. "I know it's hard," she said softly, "but it's ok. You're ok." Plankton nodded, his breathing still a little rapid, his expression guarded. "Do you remember anything?" Karen asked, her voice a gentle caress. Plankton's gaze drifted to the floor. "Just the park," he mumbled. "The swings." Sandy's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?" Plankton's grip on the couch cushion tightened. "You don't need to know," he said, his voice edged with irritation. Karen gave a resigned sigh. "Plankton, San..." "I said I don't want to talk about it!" Plankton's voice was a sudden explosion, echoing through the room. Sandy flinched at his outburst. "Plankton, please," Karen interjected, her voice a calm contrast to the storm of his emotions. "Sandy's just trying to understand." But Plankton's anger was a wall, impenetrable. "I don't owe her anything!" he snapped, pulling his hand away from hers. "It’s not her business!" Sandy felt the sting of his words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.." Karen put a hand on Sandy's shoulder, her eyes kind. "It's ok. It's new for you, and it's a lot to take in. Plankton just needs a bit of space." She turned to her husband, her voice soothing. "Honey, Sandy's our friend. She wants to be there for us." Sandy watched as Plankton's body visibly relaxed, his breathing evening out. His eye flickered up to meet hers, and she saw the apology in it. He took another deep breath, his shoulders dropping. "I know," he said, his voice smaller now. "I'm sorry." Karen's hand remained on his shoulder, her expression one of understanding. "It's ok," she said. "We're all trying to figure it out."

💚💛= Plankbob ❤️💛 = Krabob 🩵💛= Squidbob 🩷💛= Patbob 🤎💛= Spandy ❤️💚 = Plabs 💙💚 = Plankaren 🤎💙= Karendy ❤️🩵 = Krabsward

favorite(s) SpongeBob shipping Karendy — the ship between Sandy and Karen krabbob (spongebob x mr krabs) Larrick — the ship between Larry the Lobster and Patrick Star MR KRABS AND MRS PUFF + KRUFF PatBob(SpongeBobxPatrick) Plabs — the ship between Mr. Krabs and Sheldon Plankton Plankaren — the ship between Plankton and Karen PlankBob — the ship between SpongeBob and Sheldon Plankton Plankward — the ship between Plankton and Squidward Tentacles Sandrick — the ship between Patrick and Sandy Cheeks Spandrick Sandy Cheeks · Patrick Star Spandward — the ship between SpongeBob, Sandy Cheeks and Squidward Tentacles Spandy(SpongeBobxSandy) Squandy(Squidward vs Sandy) SquidBob(Squidward vs SpongeBob) SquidPatBob — the ship between SpongeBob, Squidward Tentacles and Patrick Star

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Key messages People have a right to expect: access to the care they need, when they need it and that appropriate reasonable adjustments are made to meet people’s individual needs. This starts from the first point of contact with a hospital. This is not just good practice – it is a legal requirement. staff communicate with them in a way that meets their needs and involves them in decisions about their care they are fully involved in their care and treatment the care and treatment they receive meets all their needs, including making reasonable adjustments where necessary and taking into account any equality characteristics such as age, race and orientation their experiences of care are not dependent on whether or not they have access to specialist teams and practitioners. However: People told us they found it difficult to access care because reasonable adjustments weren't always made. Providers need to make sure they are making appropriate reasonable adjustments to meet people’s individual needs. There is no ‘one-size-fits-all’ solution for communication. Providers need to make sure that staff have the tools and skills to enable them to communicate effectively to meet people’s individual needs. People are not being fully involved in their care and treatment. In many cases, this is because there is not enough listening, communication and involvement. Providers need to make sure that staff have enough time and skills to listen to people and their families so they understand and can meet people’s individual needs. Equality characteristics, such as age, race and orientation, risked being overshadowed by a person’s learning disability or autism because staff lacked knowledge and understanding about inequalities. Providers need to ensure that staff have appropriate training and knowledge so they can meet all of a person’s individual needs. Specialist practitioners and teams cannot hold sole responsibility for improving people’s experiences of care. Providers must make sure that all staff have up-to-date training and the right skills to care for people with a learning disability and autistic people.

Date: 15/12/22 Support Tips: Preparation: in order to best prepare some actions might include ~ Considering your sensory needs- pack a bag with sensory aids such as headphones, earplugs, coloured glasses, stim tools, comfort items and so on to support your comfort whilst at your appointment. Considering your communication needs- perhaps take a trusted friend or family member to support with verbal communication, a hospital passport that you can share with staff or notes including scripted comments or responses that you can refer to during the appointment to support with or replace verbal speech. Wear suitable clothing that can be easily taken on and off. To minimise uncertainty, research what is involved in the procedure before attending so that you have a good idea what to expect. Write out a list of questions to avoid relying on memory during a potentially stressful experience. Plan your travel route in advance and leave plenty of time to get to your appointment to minimise anxiety and allow time to adjust to the environment upon arrival. Engage in calming, grounding techniques prior to the appointment start time. During: whilst at the appointment it may be helpful to ~ Ask for the nurse practitioner to talk you through the procedure in full before it commences, preferably with use of images or demonstrations with relevant equipment. Be open about which aspects of the experience you might struggle with as an Autistic person and request particular adjustments. Engage in grounding techniques such as mindful breathing. Hold on to a stim object that is comforting or acts as a stress reliever. Listen to music to support self-regulation. Share your concerns or worries with the nurse practitioner to invite reassurance or helpful advice. Remember your reason for attending and why it is important for you. Aftercare: following the procedure, it is a good idea to plan in some time for self-care and self-regulation, some ideas might include ~ Get yourself into a sensory safe space where things feel predictable and calm (for e.g. a quiet room with dim lighting, weighted blanket etc). Arrange to debrief/chat to a friend or another supportive person about your experience after leaving your appointment. Arrange to meet with a trusted person following the procedure to support you with getting back home or perhaps to do something you might enjoy together. Engage in your dedicated interest. Acknowledge your achievement in attending and getting through the appointment. Journal about your experience to help with emotional processing. Engage in your favourite stim to release any tension that may remain in your b0dy. Allow yourself to physically rest or sleep once back at home. Date: 15/12/22

Autism and Anxiety AUTISM Medical Visits and Autism: A Better Way Strategies to reduce anxiety during doctor visits. Posted April 6, 2019 Going for a medical visit can be a scary proposition for any child. A child on the autism spectrum has to cope with all of the usual fears associated with seeing a doctor. However, for the autistic child, there are a host of other factors that can make seeing the doctor not only unpleasant, but also downright terrifying. Some of these factors are: Waiting Waiting is unpleasant and difficult for most children to do. However, for the autistic child, waiting can result in very high distress. Children on the spectrum may struggle with the concept of time, and thus may not find comfort in being told that they will be seen in X number of minutes. Waits at the doctor's office also tend to be unpredictable, and this unpredictability often creates high anxiety for autistic kids. Abrupt Transitions Doctor's offices are busy places. When it is time to move from one part of the visit to another, there is often pressure to do it quickly, without advance notice. These types of abrupt transitions can be very unsettling for the child on the autism spectrum. Sensory Sensitivities Doctor's offices are not very sensory-friendly places: bright lighting, unfamiliar sounds, unpleasant smells, and multiple intrusions on the tactile senses (e.g., blood pressure cuff, feel of stethoscope) can be very difficult for an autistic child to process and cope with. Language Processing Being asked multiple questions—often at a quick pace—can quickly overwhelm the language-processing capacity of a child on the spectrum. The use of abstract language and unfamiliar medical terms can further contribute to anxiety. The Consequences of Health Care Anxiety Health care-related anxiety can have serious consequences. The child on the spectrum may be distressed not only during the visit, but for days (or even weeks) before. Challenging behaviors during the visit (due to anxiety, not intentional) can prevent health care providers from conducting a thorough evaluation, and may make it difficult for parents to ask questions or to express their concerns. A Better Way Fortunately, there are a number of strategies that parents and health care providers can use to substantially reduce the anxiety associated with medical visits. Ideally, parents and providers should work together in developing a plan that will target each individual child's needs. These strategies include: Bring comfort items. A favorite toy or stuffed animal can help to reduce anxiety during procedures. Use distraction. Distraction can divert attention away from fear-filled procedures. Distractions can be physical items (such as toys or video games) or the use of a familiar person that the child feels comfortable with. Do a "dry run." Visit the office and meet the staff before the first official appointment. Use clear language. Health care providers should use concrete terms and a conversational pace that is manageable. Bring communication systems. Ensure that communication systems include words and phrases which may be used during an appointment. Use a visually supported schedule. This can help the child to understand what will occur next during a visit. Use familiar staff. Ensure that staff the child feels comfortable with are available on the day of the appointment. Get paperwork done ahead of time. Office staff should send forms and other paperwork home for completion ahead of time to avoid unnecessary waiting. Address sensory sensitivities. Health care providers and office staff should address all sensory aspects of the visit and minimize unnecessary noise, smells, and other forms of stimulation. Summary Health care visits can be really scary for kids on the autism spectrum, but it doesn't have to be this way. With some minor accommodations, health care visits can become a much more tolerable experience for autistic children and their families Christopher Lynch, Ph.D., is a psychologist who specializes in stress and anxiety management for children with autism. He is the Director of the Pediatric Behavioral Medicine Department at Goryeb Children's Hospital.

ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᶜᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 1 ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʷⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉⁿ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜʰᵃˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ˢˡᵉᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴬˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᶜʰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵒᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᶠˡᵉʷ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ "ᔆᵃᶠᵉ!" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴳʳᵃᵇ ᵐ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʲᵉˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ‧ ᴿⁱˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴸᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ! ᴹᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵒʳⁿᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ? ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜˡᵘᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ "ᴸᵒᵒᵏ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵍ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵘʸˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ?" "ᴹʸ ᵃʳᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᶜᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵍ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ᴵ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉᵈ ʸᵉᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ 'ᵉᵐ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ˡˡ ʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵐ; ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ˡˡ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧" To be cont. Pt. 2

ᴸᵉᵍ ᵘᵖ pt. 4 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵖᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ˢʷⁱʳˡᵉᵈ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ‽' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵃᵈʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧' ᔆᵉᵐⁱ⁻ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵍⁿᵒʳᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ!' ᵀʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵈⁱᵈ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ!' ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉⁿᵛᵉˡᵒᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ!" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ʷᵃˢʰᶜˡᵒᵗʰ; ʰᵘʳʳʸ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵉˡˡˢ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʷᵒʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱⁿᶜᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿˢᵉⁿˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵈʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ ᵏⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ⸴ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᵉˢ‧" ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘˢᵃᵇˡᵉ/ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵐ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ?" ᴴᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ; ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵃⁱʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴵᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ‧ "ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧ end finale

SANDY LEARNT A SECRET 1/2 "Howdy, y'all!" Sandy called out, her voice echoing through the park. Then she notices Karen’s husband Plankton, his eye glazed over, sitting still. He looked so out of place, frozen like a statue by Karen. "Is he ok?" Sandy asked with genuine concern, approaching them. Karen nodded. "It's just one of his moments," she whispered, hoping Sandy didn't hear the anxiety in her voice. Plankton had autism. These absence seizures were something they'd learned to live with, like a quirky dance his body did without his consent. The park was a favorite place. But now, his stillness was unsettling, a stark contrast to the vibrant activity around them. Sandy knew Plankton was different, but she doesn’t know of his neurodivergence. Her heart sank, and she felt a surge of protectiveness. "What can I do to help?" she offered. "Just talk to him," Karen whispered. "Sometimes that helps bring him back." Sandy took a deep breath and knelt down beside Plankton, his gaze vacant as he stared at the swings. "Hey, Plankton," she started, her voice gentle. "What's got you so focused?" She watched his pupil, searching for any sign of recognition. There was none. Her mind raced with questions she hadn't asked before. She knew he was quirky, had his own rhythm, but this? This was new to her. Sandy gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Is he ok?" she asked again, her voice now a low murmur. But Karen was quick to intervene, her hand sliding over Sandy's. "Don't touch him," she whispered urgently. "It's best not to pry during these spells. It might scare him." Sandy nodded, swallowed her curiosity, and leaned back on her haunches. "What causes these... moments?" Karen sighed. "It's his autism," she explained softly. "These are absence seizures. They're like little brain hiccups, where he simply checks out for a while." Sandy's eyes widened, sympathy swelling in her chest. "How often do these happen?" "More often than I'd like to admit," Karen replied with a sad smile. "But they're usually brief. It's just part of he is." She paused, looking at Plankton with a mix of love and concern. "But sometimes, they can be longer." Sandy nodded slowly, absorbing the new information. "What's it like for him?" she asked, her voice low and caring. Karen grew soft. "It's like a daydream, but without his control. He doesn't remember much after..." Her voice trailed off as she studied her husband's unresponsive face. "But when he snaps out of it, he's usually ok. He might be a bit confused, but he's always ok. Although he can wake up feeling scared or upset sometimes." Sandy felt her heart tug with each word. She could see the love Karen had for Plankton, and the pain she held in silence every time he slipped away like this. "Does anything trigger them?" she probed gently. "Loud noises, flashing lights, stress..." Karen counted off on her fingers, her gaze drifting to the bustling park. "But sometimes, it's just because his brain needs a moment." Sandy nodded, taking in the quiet seriousness of Karen's tone. "What's the best way to help when this happens?" Karen's gaze flickered to the swings, where the children's laughter grew more distant as they swung higher. "Just be patient, and keep talking to him. Sometimes, the sound of a familiar voice can guide him back." Sandy took this in, willing her voice to steady. "What do you talk about or say to him?" Karen shrugged. "I just talk sweet nothings. It's more about keeping a calm, soothing environment than the content." Sandy nodded, trying to imagine what that would be like. "How does he react when he snaps out of it?" Karen's expression softened a bit. "At first, he's usually a little disoriented, like waking up from a deep sleep. But he sometimes comes around and tries to play it off like nothing happened. It's his way of coping, as he’s a bit self conscious." Sandy watched as a playful breeze rustled Plankton's antennae, and she wondered what was going on behind his unblinking eye. "Does he ever get upset when he realizes what's happened?" Karen nodded, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening slightly. "It's tough. Sometimes he feels like he's missed out on things, or people will stare." Sandy's curiosity was piqued. "What does he see or feel?" Karen's eyes searched the horizon, her thumb absently stroking Plankton's knuckles. "I know it's like a pause in time for him.." "Does he hear us?" Sandy inquired, her voice a mere breath. "He might, but it's like his mind is in a different place," Karen explained, her eyes never leaving her husband's. "It's like he's in a bubble and we're in the distant background." Sandy nodded. "How long do these episodes usually last?" Karen shrugged, her smile tight. "A few seconds to a few minutes, rarely hours. It varies." Sandy leaned in, even more curious. "Does anything he does before these episodes hint that one is coming?" Karen nodded, her eyes still on Plankton. "Sometimes he'll get a little spacey, or his body might twitch." "What's the worst one you've seen?" Sandy asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen's smile disappeared, her eyes misting over. "One time, it was at the supermarket. He was in the middle of a crowded aisle, and a child's laughter triggered one. The lights were too bright, the noises too loud. It was chaos for him. He was stuck there, unable to move, while everyone else bustled around, oblivious to his silent distress, which worsened as they bumped into him and jostling him even more." Sandy felt a pang of empathy. "How did you get him out of it?" Karen took a deep breath, her hand squeezing Plankton's. "I talked to him softly, tried to keep the environment calm. I asked the people around to give us some space. It wasn't easy, but he eventually came back to me on the ride home. He then took a nap.." Sandy nodded, her thoughts racing. "What if the park’s environment is perpetuating this one?" Karen frowned slightly, glancing around. "It's possible," she conceded. "We've had episodes here before, but they're usually shorter and less severe. Let’s drive him home." Sandy stood up, her hands still shaking a little. "Should I move him, or?" Karen considered for a moment. "I’ll help him up gently." Together, they approached Plankton, and Karen whispered sweetly, "Hey, sweetie, it's time to go home." She lifts Plankton's body holding him in an embrace. "Let's get him to the car," Karen said, her voice still low and soothing as she carries him.

ᵀʰᵉ ᴬᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʰⁱᵗ ᵇʸ ᵃ ʷᵃᵛᵉ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘʳʳᵉⁿᵗ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᴸᵃʳʳʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᴸᵃʳʳʸ ᵈⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ˢᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵃᵗ ˢᵉᵃ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ‧‧‧" ᴸᵃʳʳʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡʸ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵘˢᶜⁱᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᴴⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏ‧‧‧" ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁱᵍⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ‧ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵐᵇᵃʳᵈᵉᵈ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴⁱ‧‧‧" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵒ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ⸴ ᵖᵃˡ!" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵈᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵉᵉ‧ "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᴿᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ʸᵃ ˡᵘᶜᵏʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵃ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ˡᵉᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᵂᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴸᵃʳʳʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉˢ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉˡʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉᵃᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ?" ᴬˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵉʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ "ᔆᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒᶻᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ˢᵗᵉʳᵗᵒʳˢ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ˡᵉᵍ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃ ᵍⁱᶠᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ᴷʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᴾᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ⸴ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᵗ? ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃᵉ; ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗ‧" "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ʷᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒᵖ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉᵃᵗ‧ "ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ ᵇᵘᵈ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃˡᶠ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴴᵒʷ ʸᵃ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ?" "ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳ ᵃ ᵗʳᵘᶜᵉ ⁱⁿᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗᵉˡʸ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃˡ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵘⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃˡᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖˡᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵃⁱʳ⸴ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ?" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! ᔆᵒ⸴ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵘᵗᵘᵃˡ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵖʳᵒᵖᵉʳˡʸ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵖᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧

ᵀʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖᵒᵛᵉʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ by @ALYJACI ᵀʰᵉ ᴳᵃˡ ᴾᵃˡˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗˢⁱᵈᵉ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵗʳᵉᵉᵈᵒᵐᵉ! ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ˡᵃʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ! ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ "ᴹʸ ᵈᵃᵈ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ! ᴵ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᶜᵒⁿᶠⁱᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᶜᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶠᵘˡˡ ᵒᶠ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳˢ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵗʳʸ ᵈʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ʳᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵃᵛᵒᵘʳˢ? ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ˢᵃʸˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴹᵉⁿ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵒʸˢ‧‧‧" ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ᵗᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ˢᵗᵘᵈᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵍᵃᵍⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵈᵃʷⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᴳᵃˡ ᴾᵃˡˢ! @ALYJACI

<(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 ⚫█▀█▄▄𓂸

( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅♥]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ )

"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.

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)

~ Considering your sensory needs- pack a bag with sensory aids such as headphones, earplugs, coloured glasses, stim tools, ice, comfort items and so on to support your comfort whilst at your appointment. Considering your communication needs- perhaps take a trusted friend or family to support with verbal communication, a hospital passport that you can share with staff or notes including scripted comments or responses that you can refer to during the appointment as verbal speech. Wear suitable clothing or dress that can be easily taken on and off. To minimise uncertainty, research what is involved in the procedure before attending so that you have a good idea what to expect. Write out a list of questions to avoid relying on memory during a potentially stressful experience. Plan your travel route in advance and leave plenty of time to get to your appointment to minimise anxiety and allow time to adjust to the environment upon arrival. Engage in calming, grounding techniques prior to the appointment start time. During: whilst at the appointment it may be helpful to ~ Ask for the nurse practitioner to talk you through the procedure in full before it commences, preferably with use of images or demonstrations with relevant equipment. Be open about which aspects of the experience you might struggle with as an Autistic person and request particular adjustments. Engage in grounding techniques such as mindful breathing. Hold on to a stim object that is comforting or acts as a stress reliever. Listen to music to support self-regulation. Share your concerns or worries with the nurse practitioner to invite reassurance or helpful advice. Remember your reason for attending and why it is important for you. Aftercare: following the procedure, it is a good idea to plan in some time for self-care and self-regulation, some ideas might include ~ Get yourself into a sensory safe space where things feel predictable and calm (for e.g. a quiet room with dim lighting, weighted blanket etc). Arrange to debrief/chat to a friend or another supportive person about your experience after leaving your appointment. Arrange to meet with a trusted person following the procedure to support you with getting back home or perhaps to do something you might enjoy together. Engage in your dedicated interest. Acknowledge your achievement in attending and getting through the appointment. Journal about your experience to help with emotional processing. Engage in your favourite stim to release any tension that may remain in your body. Allow yourself to physically rest or sleep once back at home.

Bluescreen CobaltTheFox https://archiveofourown.org/works/14973044/chapters/83344819#workskin Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

https://giphy.com/gifs/spongebob-spongebob-squarepants-season-7-3ogwG6F9x0ynpXrqpi https://giphy.com/gifs/spongebob-spongebob-squarepants-season-7-l1EsZSUNXky012NIk https://giphy.com/gifs/spongebob-spongebob-squarepants-season-7-3ogwFZbHwFmHVOA0P6 https://giphy.com/gifs/spongebob-spongebob-squarepants-season-7-3ogwFGUC7OQe5Obalq https://giphy.com/gifs/spongebob-spongebob-squarepants-season-7-3ogwFFrBV7h9Y4WWmk https://giphy.com/gifs/spongebob-spongebob-squarepants-season-7-3ogwFUjTBKX0lUWXao https://giphy.com/gifs/spongebob-spongebob-squarepants-season-7-l1EsYxG6PNEBxa29G https://giphy.com/gifs/spongebob-spongebob-squarepants-season-7-26mE71BaInWXN3S6s

My best friend's grandma had been fighting Alzheimer's for about 10 years, and she barely remembered her husband of 64 years. Last night, she miraculously found her husband's hospital room (he was dying of cancer) and climbed into his bed. They died together that night. Fairy tale love GMH May 3rd, 2010, 5:21 PM

KATIE OF GUILDFORD HAD TSS TWICE My name is Katie and I am 15. I had been using tampons for at least a year before I got toxic shock. I had read the warning on the packet about it, but it said that the disease was rare and I thought it couldn't possibly happen to me! I hadn't read about the symptoms of Toxic Shock and wouldn't have connected it to what I had, even though they match nearly exactly The first time that I got toxic shock was on holiday in Spain in December 2008. The night before I was taken ill, my family and I played tennis and I felt fine! In the days before, I had been on my period and had been using tampons. In the early hours of the morning I was sick and fainted every time I tried to get up - I couldn't even get to the toilet by myself. After a day of this, my parents called the Spanish doctor and he referred me to the hospital, as my temperature was very high. An ambulance was called and I had to be carried downstairs by my Dad, as I couldn't walk without fainting. Once in the hospital, I was admitted to a ward. As well as the sickness and fainting, I suffered acute stomach pains, diarrhoea and I also had a rash around my eyes and all over my body that the Spanish doctors claimed was sunburn - but was actually another symptom of toxic shock. I don't remember much about the few days I spent in the ward as I was delirious from the fever, but I wasn't allowed to drink and I was so thirsty - parts of my lips and tongue were just peeling off. The pain medication was sometimes late, and I remember being in awful pain from having hiccups. My liver failed and my skin turned an orange colour - I had no idea how sick I was, as I joked about finally getting a good tan! I had an intravenous line (IV) in my arm and got phlebitis from it, so they had to change it. There weren't enough nurses in the ward and my Mum had to care for me a lot. As I couldn't get up, every time I had diarrhoea, she sorted out my bedpan and cleaned up - when I was sick as well. Finally, I was diagnosed with septicaemia which had caused liver and kidney failure (instead of just a tummy bug as they assumed when I was in the ward) and I was taken to Intensive Care. They inserted a central line and a catheter and also put me on oxygen, as my lungs were weak and had fluid in. At this point, my brother had to fly back to England by himself, as my parents stayed in Spain with me. The doctors said my condition was stable but critical, and there was a chance that I may have died. However, they changed my antibiotics, and the new ones finally started to work and my condition improved. After 4 days, I was readmitted back into the ward. I could now walk the distance to the toilet and I was starting to eat food again. On Christmas Day my parents wheeled me (I needed a wheelchair for longer distances) down to the hospital cafeteria! I spent a week in the ward, until I was well enough to fly back to England with a medical escort. When I arrived back in England, they removed my central line and discharged me from hospital. At home, I worked on getting my strength back. The skin on my legs and arms began to peel, followed by the skin on my hands and finishing with the soles of my feet. It took about a month for my skin to return back to how it was before I was ill. Also, a little bit more hair than usual would come out when I showered and combed it through; although not a large amount - my hair was quite thick anyway and you couldn't see the difference. We didn't find out what caused the sepsis in Spain - all the blood tests came back negative and we were told it was food poisoning. After being sick over Christmas, I went back to school although was off for two weeks due to severe tonsillitis exactly a month after I was ill the first time. Another month later, I was on my period again and still using tampons (as directed on the packet). I was sick continuously with a bad headache, on the Sunday, and thought I had simply picked up another bug. However, in the evening, I felt much better and decided to rest off school, but my parents went to work. Unfortunately in the morning I felt much worse and had a sore throat, and felt dizzy, although I wasn't sick. My eyes were also very red. When my mum came home from work she took my blood pressure (which was extremely low) and temperature (which peaked at 40 degrees). That evening, we went to see the GP who decided to be cautious (given my history and my Mum insisting!) and sent me to hospital. At the hospital it was the first time toxic shock was mentioned, the doctors acted really quickly, an IV was inserted and I was given lots of fluids, but my blood pressure wasn't rising, and my kidneys weren't working properly. They transferred me to Evelina's Intensive Care in London, inserting a central line so strong antibiotics could quickly reach my blood stream, along with some drugs that helped my circulation and giving me an oxygen mask as my lungs had fluid in. Here they also inserted an arterial line to continuously monitor my blood pressure. I spent a day there, and my blood pressure was soon back to normal and so was transferred back to a ward in my local hospital, where I spent a few days before I was discharged. Now, a week after being discharged for the second time, I am still recovering and have noticed some of the same after effects as last time - my skin is beginning to peel and a few more hairs than usual have been falling out. I am glad now that I know the real reason for being so sick both times - and definitely won't be using tampons again. I think that I am very lucky to still be alive - having survived toxic shock twice, and I really hope that other people will be more aware of the risks and quicker at spotting the symptoms than I was! Posted 18/3/2009

Cͨaͣrͬdͩiͥoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf hͪeͤaͣrͬᴛⷮ dͩiͥs͛eͤaͣs͛eͤ oͦrͬ hͪeͤaͣrͬᴛⷮ aͣᴛⷮᴛⷮaͣcͨᴋⷦs͛). нⷩeͤmͫoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf вⷡloͦoͦdͩ). Noͦs͛oͦcͨoͦmͫeͤрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf hͪoͦs͛рⷬiͥᴛⷮaͣls͛). Рⷬhͪaͣrͬmͫaͣcͨoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf mͫeͤdͩiͥcͨaͣᴛⷮiͥoͦn). ᴛⷮoͦmͫoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf mͫeͤdͩiͥcͨaͣl рⷬrͬoͦcͨeͤdͩuͧrͬeͤs͛ liͥᴋⷦeͤ s͛uͧrͬgeͤrͬiͥeͤs͛). ᴛⷮrͬaͣuͧmͫaͣᴛⷮoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf iͥnjuͧrͬy).

💉 🩹 💉 🩹 💉 🩹 💉 🩹

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ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴮᵃˢⁱˡˡⁱˢᵃ ᴹᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ⁶ ᴶᵃⁿᵘᵃʳʸ ᴾʳᵒᶠⁱˡᵉ ᴹᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃˢᵗᵉˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴶᵘˡⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵗʷᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ¹⸴⁰⁰⁰! ᴮᵃˢⁱˡⁱˢˢᵃ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢⁱᶜᵏ ʷᵒᵐᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴶᵘˡⁱᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴰⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉˢ ᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿⁱᶻᵉᵈ ᴾʳᵉ⁻ᶜᵒⁿᵍʳᵉᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ᴳᴵᴿᴸ'ᔆ ᶠᴬᵀᴬᴸ ᶠᴬᴸᴸ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴾᴼᴼᴸ ᔆʸᴰᴺᴱʸ⸴ ‧ ᵀᵘᵉˢᵈᵃʸ‧ — ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ⸴ ¹²⸴ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱᶜ ᴴⁱᵍʰʷᵃʸ⸴ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ⸴ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶜˡⁱᵐᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵒˢˢ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵂᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᶠᵒˡⁱᵃᵍᵉ ᵍʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵖⁱᵖᵉ‧ ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ᴳᵒʳᵍᵉ — — — ^ — — — ᔆʸᵈⁿᵉʸ⸴ ᴶᵘⁿᵉ ²⁹‧— ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁽¹²⁾ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁵ ᶠᵗ‧ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵒʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵘˢⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒᵒᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ‧ ᴬ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵖᵉⁿᵉᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ʲᵃʷ ʷᵃˢ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵒʳᵗˡʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵐᵇᵘˡᵃⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴴᵒʳⁿˢᵇʸ ᴴᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 14 (Autistic author) ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ They carefully lift Plankton into the car, his body tense with pain. Sandy slides into the driver's seat, her hands gripping the wheel. Her eyes meet Sponge Bob's in the rearview mirror, filled with resolve. "Ready?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. Sponge Bob nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "Ready." Karen buckles Plankton in as his eye flutters. "Hold tight," Sandy says, her voice a steady rumble, as she starts the engine. The car's gentle purr is a contrast to the tension in the air. Sponge Bob sits in the back, his eyes trained on Plankton's face. His friend's tiny body is a tapestry of pain, but Sponge Bob's touch is a soft, steady beat, trying to soothe him. "It's okay, Plankton," he whispers, his voice a comforting whisper of reassurance. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye slightly focusing on Sponge Bob. "Mph," he murmurs, his voice a static hum of pain. Sponge Bob nods, his face a mask of determined compassion. "We're going to the Quiet Bubble Clinic," he says, his voice a soft, steady wave. "They'll know how to help you." Sandy's eyes are on the road ahead, her driving slow and precise. "Just hold on, Plankton," she says, her voice a comforting hum. "We're almost there." The Quiet Bubble Clinic comes into view, a softly lit building that seems to pulse with a gentle calm. Sandy parks the car and they carefully extract Plankton from his seat, his tiny body rigid. They enter the lobby, the air thick with the scent of calming essential oils. The lights are low, and the sounds muffled. A nurse with a gentle face approaches, her voice a soothing whisper. "What can we help with?" she asks, her eyes on Plankton's twisted leg. Sponge Bob explains quickly, his voice trembling with concern. "Mr. Krabs hurt his leg," he says, his eyes wide. "Krabs also hit his head with a fry pan, which caused Plankton autism as well as the accompaniment of sensitivities. But his leg hurts and needs fixed!" The nurse nods, her movements slow and deliberate. "We'll need to be careful with his heightened senses," she murmurs, her voice a soft melody. "Let's get him to a room." They navigate the hallways, the walls lined with soothing pictures and textures. Plankton's body is stiff with pain, his voice a static hiss with each step. "Please," he whispers, his antennae waving weakly. The nurse nods, her touch gentle as she leads them to a quiet, dimly lit exam room. "We need to fix your leg, sweetie," she says, her voice a gentle breeze. Plankton's eye flutters open. The nurse's voice is a gentle lullaby. "We're going to take good care of you," she says, her eyes kind and understanding. Plankton's body shakes with fear and pain, his antennae pressed against his head. Sponge Bob squeezes his hand, his voice a comforting whisper. "You're going to be okay, Plankton," he says, his eyes filled with concern. The nurse nods, her gloved hands moving with precision. "We're going to need to put him under," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "It's the safest way to manage his pain and sensitivity." Plankton's antennae quiver with fear, his single eye darting back and forth. "Under what," he whispers. The nurse's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Anesthesia," she says softly, her voice a comforting hum. "It'll help you sleep through the surgery." Plankton's antennae twitch with anxiety, his voice a nervous static. "Sleep?" he repeats, his eye doubtful. "Plankton light sleeper." The nurse nods, her eyes calm. "We understand, sweetie," she murmurs. "We'll make sure you're comfortable." They prep him for surgery, the air in the room thick with his fear. Sponge Bob holds his hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on his palm. "It'll be over soon," he whispers, his voice a soothing wave. The doctor, a kind-eyed squid, enters the room, his tentacles moving with calming precision. "We're going to give you something to help you relax," he says, his voice a gentle trill. "We've ways to sedate. One, a pill tablet. Two, a liquid to drink. Three, nasally. Four, cream gel to numb the place the IV goes in but, it'll be inserted after he's asleep anyway. Now the first two options are taken orally, so they might take a moment to work..." "Drink; Plankton, drink.." Plankton manages, looking at a chart of diagrams which illustrate each method. The doctor nods, his tentacles steadily adjusting the bed. "Very good," he says, his voice a gentle wave of reassurance. He hands Plankton a small cup. "This is a special drink," he explains, his eyes meeting Plankton's. "It'll help you relax before surgery." Plankton's antennae twitch with anxiety as he takes the cup. He looks to Sponge Bob, whose grip on his hand tightens. "It's okay," Sponge Bob whispers, his voice a calming static. With a shaky hand, Plankton brings the cup to his mouth, his eye squeezed shut. He gulps down the liquid as they give him a blanket. He finishes the drink and hands the cup back. Sponge Bob's grip doesn't waver, his thumb still moving in soothing circles. "Good job, buddy," he whispers, his voice a gentle sea breeze. Sandy nods as Karen gives Plankton a kiss. The nurse's eyes are warm and comforting as she checks his vitals. "It won't be long now," she murmurs, her voice a soft hum of reassurance. Sponge Bob sits by the bed, his grip on Plankton's hand firm but gentle. "You're doing great," he says, his voice a calming whisper. Plankton's antennae twitch with the first wave of drowsiness, his eye slowly closing. The world around him begins to fade into a soft, fuzzy static. Sponge Bob watches, his grip on Plankton's hand unyielding. "It's going to be okay," he whispers, his voice a gentle rush of air. The anesthesia starts to take effect, Plankton's body gradually going slack, his breathing deepening. Sponge Bob's eyes follow the rise and fall of Plankton's chest, his grip on his hand tight. "You're okay, buddy," he whispers, his voice a gentle static. Plankton's antennae twitch one last time before stilling, his eye fully closed. The nurse nods, satisfied with his vitals. "He's out," she says as his soft snores fill the room.

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠙⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠛⣿⡿⠋⠉⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡤⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⢰⠀⢰⠀⠀⠂⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢰⠀⠠⡄⠀⡆⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢸⠀⢸⠃⠀⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⠀⢸⡇⠀⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⢀⢸⡇⠀⣷⢸⣇⠀⠀⣠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡍⠉⢣⡀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢁⡀⢺⡁⢼⡇⠠⣿⢸⣿⡀⣾⣇⣠⠾⠿⣷⣤⣄⠤⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢿⣇⡾⠁⠸⣧⡘⠃⣼⡇⢸⣿⣧⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⡶⠿⠓⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠻⣿⣶⣠⠙⠻⠟⠋⣰⣼⣿⣿⡿⣿⣛⣩⣥⡴⢶⡦⠄⠈⣶⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⡿⠈⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡰⣿⠛⠻⣷⣌⠙⢿⣧⡀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⡿⢿⡗⢹⠃⣸⡇⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠋⣁⣤⣤⣀⠙⣿⣆⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⣶⣶⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣗⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣋⡋⠁⠬⠵⠊⣠⣿⣇⠀⢸⣿⣿⡟⣠⣿⡿⠿⣿⡆⢹⣿⡄⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡋⠀⢰⡟⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⠯⢤⣉⡛⠻⠿⡄⢿⣿⣿⣇⣿⣿⠀⠀⠐⡇⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠦⠄⠉⠁⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⠉⣨⣿⠂⢠⢟⣡⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠼⢿⠿⣡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣀⣀⣀⣬⡷⠀⠀⠀⠉⠲⣦⣄⡀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣾⣷⡇⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠙⣿⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⣞⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣈⣉⣉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣏⠛⠛⣻⣿⡏⣷⣾⣿⡎⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⢀⣤⣹⣿⣿⡘⠻⣿⠟⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣃⣀⣄⣈⠁⠀⠀⢀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠻⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⣿⣿⠯⠢⢳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢹⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⢏⣼⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣤⣼⣛⡛⠻⠿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠇⣸⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠘⢿⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⠥⠤⠤⢀⣀⡀⠋⢀⣼⣿⡿⣿⣿⠿⢻⡟⢀⠀⢀⠏⠚⣿⣟⡿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠈⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⢋⣠⣾⣿⡥⠈⠀⠀⣠⡞⠀⠸⣄⠈⠀⢠⣿⣿⢳⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⣁⣤⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⢹⣦⣰⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠘⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣋⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⠄⠠⠤⣠⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣼⣠⡤⠴⠖⠂⠀⠀⠉⠉⢂⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 14 (Autistic author) The next day, Karen wakes up to find Plankton already out of bed, his eye fixated on the clock again. Then, a knock on the door alerted both of them. It's Hanna, an old friend of Karen's. "Hanna? Oh, it's been so long!" Karen exclaims as she throws her arms around Hanna, whom Plankton noticed also reciprocated the gesture. So he decided to go sit on the couch. "Oh you're Karen's husband Plankton, right‽" Hanna says. Plankton nods as Karen gets out some refreshments. Hanna sits next to Plankton on the couch, her smile genuine but her tone playful. "So, Plankton, I hear you and Karen had a wedding anniversary! Did you get her anything, or did Karen have to remind you? I bet you cause her so much trouble with your forgetfulness," she laughs. "It's a wonder she keeps you around." Of course, Karen didn't hear Hanna's playful comment, as she's still gathering the refreshments. But Plankton does. His eye widens, his antennae twitching rapidly. He feels the sting of her words, though they were meant to be light-hearted. His body tenses, his mind racing. He knows he's not forgetful; he's different. The patterns of his thoughts clash with her joke, creating a cacophony of confusion and hurt. He doesn't understand the teasing and takes it to heart, thinking he must've caused her trouble. He wordlessly leaves to the bedroom right before Karen returns with the refreshments. "Where's Plankton?" She asks Hanna, who pointed the direction he went. Karen finds him in the bedroom, crying and saying 'Karen' in between his hiccups. His body is rigid with the effort of holding in his sobs. Her heart squeezes with pain as she rushes to him, her arms wrapping around his small frame. "What's wrong, love?" she whispers, her voice filled with concern. Plankton's body shakes with sobs, his antennae limp. "Hanna," he manages to whisper, his voice choked with emotion. Karen's eyes fill with concern. "What about Hanna, sweetheart?" she asks, her voice gentle. Plankton sniffs, his antennae waving slightly. "Hanna said...she said..." He can't get the words out, his emotions choking him. Karen holds him closer, her voice a whisper. "What did Hanna say, love?" Plankton's sobs intensify, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. "Plankton," he manages to say, his voice a heartbreaking gasp. Karen's heart breaks. "What did she say, love?" she prompts, her voice soft, her eyes filled with understanding. Plankton's antennae twitch in agitation. "Hanna said Plankton cause Karen trouble," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own sobs. "Karen better if Plankton not here." Karen's eyes fill with sorrow, her heart heavy with the weight of his misunderstanding. "Oh, Plankton," she whispers, her voice filled with love and pain. "That was just a joke, she didn't mean..." But Plankton's sobs only grow louder, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. "Karen doesn't deserve this," he sobs, his antennae waving erratically. Karen holds him closer, her voice a gentle lullaby. "You don't cause me trouble, love," she says, her eyes filled with tears. "You're just...different now." Plankton's antennae twitch with understanding, his sobs slowly subsiding. "But Hanna..." he says, his voice a whimper. "Not want!" Karen nods, her eyes never leaving his. "I know, love," she says, her voice soft. "But she'd never mean it that way. She was just being playful, she's nice." Plankton shakes his head, unconvinced. "Hanna did laugh at Plankton. Plankton not cause trouble," he says, his voice shaking with emotion. "Karen Plankton. Plankton loves Karen; Karen and Hanna no..." Plankton can't hold the sobbing back. Karen's eyes fill with tears. "Oh, Plankton," she says, her voice breaking. "Hanna loves you too. She didn't mean it like that. It was just a misunderstanding." Plankton's antennae wave in a pattern that Karen's learned means he's processing her words, trying to fit them into his new reality. "But Hanna said..." His voice trails off, as Hanna herself comes in. "Is everything okay in here? Or is Plankton causing..." she asks, her smile fading when she sees Plankton's tears. Karen turns to Hanna, her expression stern. "What happened?" Hanna's eyes widen in surprise. "I just said hello, and he ran in here crying," she says, her voice filled with concern. Karen's screen tightens with frustration. "What exactly did you say?" she asks, her voice calm but firm. Hanna's eyes widen in understanding. "Oh, no," she says, her voice softening. "I just made a joke about your anniversary. I didn't mean..." But Plankton's sobs only grow louder, his antennae flailing wildly. "Hanna said Plankton cause trouble," he accuses, his body wracked with emotion. "Not joke!" Hanna's eyes widen in horror, her playful smile vanishing as she sees the pain in Plankton's eye. She rushes over, kneeling beside him. "Plankton, no," she whispers, her voice filled with regret. "It was just a joke. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..." But Plankton's sobs only intensify, his body a storm of emotions he can't control. "IT'S NOT A JOKE!" he cries out. Hanna's eyes fill with tears as she realizes the gravity of her mistake. "Plankton, I'm so sorry," she whispers, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. But Plankton's reaction is explosive, his antennae lashing out like whips. "NO!" he screams, his voice a tornado of pain and anger. "ENOUGH HURT!" Hanna looks at Karen. "How often you say he throws these fitful tantrums?" Hanna says, which is the final straw for Plankton. Plankton's antennae quiver with rage. "NO, NOT TANTRUMS!" he shouts, his voice a thunderclap in the small room. "PLANKTON HAS ACQUIRED RESTRICTED FLOW TO THE FRONTAL TEMPORAL POLAR CORTEX!" Hanna looks at him strangely. "W..." "PLANKTON HAS CORPUS CALLOSUM DEACTIVATION IN THE SENSORY INTEGRATION CENTERS!" Plankton shouts, his antennae a blur of movement as he tries to convey his condition's complexity. "Neurotransmitters firing asynchronously, synapses misfiring, it's not a tantrum! SO HANNA NEEDS TO EITHER USE THE CORRECT TERMINOLOGY OR NOT SPEAK AT THE SAME TIME!" Karen's eyes are wide with fear, yet understanding that Plankton is desperate. "Plankton," she says, her voice calm. "It's okay, you don't have to explain." But Plankton's antennae wave frantically, his need for precision a storm in his mind. "HAS TO!" he yells, his voice desperate. "HANNA NOT KNOW THE DIFFERENCE!" Karen nods, her heart swelling with love and pride at his bravery. "Okay, love," she says, her voice soothing. "Let's explain." She takes a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton's as she addresses Hanna. "Plankton has acquired a form of autism, it's called 'autistic shutdowns'. It's not a tantrum, it's his brain's way of shutting down to protect itself from sensory overload. It's from a bad accident.." Hanna's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my goodness," she whispers, her voice filled with regret. "I had no idea." Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "It's been a tough adjustment for us all," she says, her voice gentle. "But we're managing."

⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣉⣩⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⣾⣿⣿⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠤⠙⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠙⠻⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⣩⣝⢿⠀⠀⣠⣶⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⡝⣿⣦⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣮⢻⣿⠟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠻⠿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣋⣁⣀⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇

🇳🇿🇳🇿❤️💓💞 ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ. ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ ≽^•⩊•^≼ 😻 🔴🤞🔵🫴🟣 🔴🤞🔵🫴🟣 🔴🤞🔵🫴🟣 🐖

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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 HAS A LESSON pt. 10 (Autistic author) After a silence so profound it seems to have its own heartbeat, Plankton's antennae twitch, breaking the stillness. "Time to...do." Plankton whispers to himself, still in Karen's arms. Sandy looks up. "Plankton?" She whispers, hope flickering in her eyes. "What's he..." But Karen shakes her head, silencing her. "He'll come around," she says, explaining his behavior. "He's just...it's okay for him to talk to himself. It can mean he's starting to come back." Plankton starts up again. "Time to...do," he murmurs, his antennae flicking erratically. "Time to...time to...get, time to...do." Karen's grip on him tightens, her heart racing as his words loop like a broken record. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers, her voice a lifeline in the tempest of his thoughts. "You don't have to do anything right now." She strokes his arm, her touch gentle. "We're right here." The words sink into his consciousness like a pebble dropped into a still pond, ripples of understanding spreading through the murky waters of his mind. His antennae still for a moment, then begin to move again, slightly. "No do," he murmurs, his voice still flat, his gaze unchanged. "Just be." Karen nods, her eyes never leaving his. "You just be, my love," she whispers, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "You can just keep talking to me, or to yourself." Her words are a gentle reminder that he's not alone, his anchor in the storm. Plankton's body relaxes slightly, his breathing evening out. Plankton's eye flickers. His eye moves, focusing on her face. "Karen," he whispers, his voice a mere breath. "Karen, here." Her heart soars. "I'm right here, sweetheart," she says, her voice a soft caress. "You're okay." Plankton's gaze lingers on her face, his expression unreadable. "Karen," he repeats, his voice gaining strength. "Karen." Slowly, the world around them starts to come back into focus. The ticking of the clock is a steady beat once more, the wallpaper's pattern a gentle dance of color and light. Plankton blinks. "Where's now?" "You're home," Karen says soothingly, her voice a beacon of calm amidst his confusion. "You're safe on the couch." Sandy comes into his view now. "Sandy," Plankton says, his voice still flat, his antennae barely moving. "Sorry." Sandy's eyes widen in surprise. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice cracking. Karen nods, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening slightly. "We're both here," she says, her voice a lifeline in the sea of confusion. Sandy moves slowly, keeping her movements small and deliberate, not wanting to trigger another wave of panic. "Plankton," she says softly, her voice careful. "Is it ok if I sit next to you?" He nods, his antennae twitching slightly. The world is still too loud, too bright, too much for him to handle. But Karen's presence, her gentle touch, makes it more bearable. Sandy sits on the couch, a respectful distance away, watching the two of them with a mix of compassion and regret as Karen helps him sit up. Sandy's curiosity burns, questions bubbling up inside her like a shaken soda can. She wants to know more about this new version of Plankton. "What happened to you, Plankton?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen sighs, her eyes sad. "It's called acquired autism syndrome," Karen explains, her voice measured. Sandy's eyes widen, trying to digest this new information. "But, how?" she asks, her curiosity overriding the sadness. "It's complicated," Karen says, her voice weary. "But it's part of who he is now." Sandy nods, trying to understand. "When you started shaking Plankton, what'd you feel?" Plankton's gaze flickers to the wall, his mind still trying to piece together the shattered remnants of his recent experience. "Scared," he admits, his voice still strained. "Too much." Sandy nods, her own understanding of the world shifting. "But what about your surroundings? Where you conscious?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Conscious, but not...not here." His words are like a puzzle, each one placed with care. Sandy nods, her eyes studying him with newfound respect. "So could you hear us or?" "Hear, but not understand," Plankton says, his voice still a whisper. Sandy nods, her curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" she asks, her eyes searching his for a clue to this new puzzle. "Words," Plankton whispers, his antennae barely moving. "Sounds, but not words. Just voice." Karen's grip on his hand tightens, her heart aching for his pain. Sandy nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It's okay," she says, her voice gentle. "We're learning together." Karen's gaze shifts to Sandy, her eyes expressing gratitude. "Yes," she agrees. "We're all just trying to understand. It's new for us, too." Sandy nods, her curiosity now tempered with compassion. She watches Plankton closely, his every movement, his every word, a testament to his struggle. "Can I ask how acquired autism..." "Sandy," Karen says gently, interrupting her friend. "Let's not push him." Sandy nods, her expression full of concern. "I just want to know how it happened." Karen's sigh is a soft whisper in the room. "It was a brain injury" she says, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "He fell, hitting his head and the impact knocked him out, hard enough to cause some serious damage." Sandy nods, her mind racing. "But how did it turn him...different?" she asks, her voice filled with a mix of confusion and concern. Karen's eyes well up with tears, the pain of the memory still fresh. "It happened yesterday. He's the same Plankton we know, but his perception of the world, his ability to communicate...it's all changed." Sandy's eyes are glued to Plankton, her curiosity melding with a deep sadness. "But how can I help?" she asks, her voice a whisper. "I don't know anything about this." Karen looks at her with a tiny smile, her screen filled with gratitude. "Just be his friend," she says, her voice firm. "Love and patience, that's what he needs." Sandy nods, her eyes flicking to Plankton, who sits with his gaze on the wall. "I want to," she says, her voice sincere. "But how do I do that without...you know?" Karen understands her dilemma. "Just be there," she says, her voice calm. "Learn his patterns, his triggers. It'll take time, but he'll come to trust you." Sandy nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "But what about when he gets upset?" "It's hard," Karen admits, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "We're still figuring it out." Sandy nods, her mind racing with a barrage of questions. But she swallows them down, not wanting to overwhelm Plankton or Karen. Instead, she focuses on the present. "So, Plankton, how do you feel?" Sandy says, her voice soft. "What do you wanna do right now?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "Right now, Plankton feeling... awkward," he murmurs, his voice devoid of its usual inflection. Sandy nods, trying to hide the shock from her face. "Okay, Plankton," she says slowly, her voice gentle. "What do you need?" He looks at her with a flicker of something resembling hope in his glassy eye. "Plankton would now like to just go to be in own room." Sandy nods eagerly, desperate to do anything that would bring him comfort. "Of course," she says, her voice gentle. "I'll help you." But as she moves to assist him, Plankton flinches away, his antennae twitching in agitation. "No," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Too much." Karen understands his need to retreat into the bedroom. "Okay," Karen says, her voice calm. "Let's go." She helps Plankton to his feet, his body still rigid with stress. Sandy watches, feeling like an outsider. She follows behind, stopping at the bedroom doorway. Karen sets some books and pencils on the table by his bed, along with a kiss. "You can change the light with the lamp," she says, gesturing to the lamp on the bedside table next to his charging phone. He nods.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣴⠛⠛⣩⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠚⢛⣀⣀⣀⣀⢤⣀⠧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠀⠀⢀⡀⣠⡴⠛⢋⣍⣿⠻⢟⣻⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⣠⣤⣴⢖⣦⣶⣿⣛⣭⣶⠟⣋⣭⣶⣠⣮⣙⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡴⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠻⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠈⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣷⠆⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⠈⡚⣏⣽⣿⣧⠠⠴⠶⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢣⡁⣽⣾⣟⣿⣤⢶⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⠟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣶⣾⡿⠟⠛⣳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡿⢩⣟⡁⢹⡋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠟⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⣁⣀⣤⣄⣤⣄⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠘⡧⠘⢿⢿⡞⡇⠀⠀⠀⡴⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡖⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄⠈⠻⢿⣿⣷⣾⣽⡶⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣀⣝⢨⠟⣁⡤⠔⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⣤⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⣿⣯⣙⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡏⣿⣌⣤⣾⠁⣠⣾⣿⡿⠷⠀⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠋⠈⠙⠛⠛⠋⢉⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠲⢤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠻⣷⠹⠏⠻⡎⣟⡛⠛⠲⢶⣤⣼⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⣠⡎⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⢞⣁⣠⣬⣿⣷⡄⢀⣾⢿⣄⣿⡆⠀⠀⣷⣸⠻⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣄⠀⣴⣿⣀⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣼⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢻⡇⣶⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⡶⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣦⠻⣿⣿⣾⡿⠿⠛⠋⢉⣥⡴⠚⡙⣿⣦⡀⣽⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⢸⣧⣿⠀⣴⠃⢀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠘⠀⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣌⢿⣟⠛⠒⠒⠋⠉⢀⣀⡼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⣇⣰⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⣿⡷⣤⣼⡾⠿⠛⠋⠀⣩⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢸⠀⣿⣷⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⢻⣷⠷⠈⢸⠲⢀⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢸⢹⢻⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⢀⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠋⠁⠀⣀⣻⣧⣴⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⣾⠙⣻⣗⣶⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡾⢟⣉⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⢁⡤⠚⠒⠉⢛⠞⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣡⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⢧⡟⡼⢋⡇⠀⠉⠉⠒⢦⣀⢴⣿⣊⡶⠟⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣡⢞⡩⠋⣼⠛⢿⣿⣿⡏⢿⣾⣟⡻⣿⣷⣄⣠⣴⣾⡿⣼⢳⠇⢸⠀⠀⠀⣰⡄⣀⡉⠳⣹⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡷⠚⢀⣾⢿⠀⠈⣿⡄⢧⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣯⡟⠀⣼⠀⠀⢸⣿⢃⡞⠀⣰⡟⢻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠘⡆⠀⠀⠀⡘⠁⣰⠟⠁⣼⠀⠀⠘⣿⡘⣆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣿⡿⢀⡼⣹⠀⠀⢸⣿⠸⠀⣸⡟⠀⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⠀⢹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⡿⠁⣸⡅⣿⠀⠀⠸⣿⡇⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠰⡀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠰⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⣇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣋⣤⠾⠋⠀⣿⠀⠀⠶⣿⣧⢟⡆⢠⠄⢠⡾⢁⣿⣇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⣄⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠸⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠉⠁⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⢻⣦⡾⢠⠏⣰⠏⢠⡞⣽⣟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⢀⠈⢧⡀⢳⠀⠀⠈⠇⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡇⢋⡾⠏⡴⠋⠈⠘⣿⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇⠈⠣⣄⠙⢦⣅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣸⢁⡞⠁⠀⣀⣠⣿⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠿⣄⠦⣌⣓⣦⣽⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⢤⡠⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡆⡄⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⣾⠘⣡⠾⣛⡭⢿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⢸⠀⠨⠭⠲⠦⢬⣉⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠉⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢀⣠⣮⠁⢹⣿⡟⣸⣷⡾⠋⠠⢿⡇ ⠀⣤⠀⣹⢸⠀⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠟⣯⠁⢀⣼⣿⠷⠛⠁⠀⠀⠈⢸⡇ ⠀⠙⢠⠏⢀⡇⠄⠈⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⢸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠎⣩⣶⡿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⠀⠀⣞⡔⠉⣀⡀⠘⠋⠉⠉⠙⢢⣼⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⣿⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⡶⢚⣽⣾⢟⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋ ⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠘⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⢨⠗⣫⣶⠿⣻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠔⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣠⣿⣆⢢⡀⠐⠿⣋⣥⣾⡟⠚⠋⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀ ⠀⡏⠘⠿⠷⠖⠒⠶⠤⣤⣤⣔⣀⡖⠿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡙⡶⡾⣃⠨⠎⢿⠆⣀⣴⡶⠊⢹⡇⠀

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

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣦⣶⣾⣿⣷⣶⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⣿⣟⠯⠓⣉⣩⣭⣝⣻⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⠗⢡⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⠏⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⣿⣿⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣸⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣨⣩⠙⠀⢹⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣀⣀⣀⣀⢧⣿⠂⣀⠀⣿⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣶⣿⣿⠗⡤⢤⣀⡉⠊⡱⢋⣉⣉⣷⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡝⣿⣿⠀⠈⠙⠿⠃⠀⡇⠽⠛⢻⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⡀⠈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⣀⠤⠾⣄⡹⣄⠀⢸⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣋⢹⣿⣿⣷⡾⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣶⣿⠿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢻⣿⣿⣇⠈⠡⢄⣀⠐⢉⣿⣿⣴⣿⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣷⣤⣄⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡅ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠒⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢿⣿⡿⠛⠋⠘⣿⣿⠿⢯⠛⠂⠤⢄⡀⠀⠀⠠⠱ ⠀⣠⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠁⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀ ⣰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢇⠀⠀⢣⠒⠲⠤⣀⡀⠀⡀⣀⠤⠒⠂⠸⡀⠀⢱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⣄ ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢆⡀⠀⢣⡀⠀⠈⠀⠈⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠰⠧⠀⠚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠙ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⠀pubg⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣉⣩⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀free fire⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⣾⣿⣿⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣀⠠⡄⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠤⠙⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠙⠻⠿⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⣩⣝⢿⠀⠀⣥⣶⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⡝⣿⣦⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣮⢿⣿⠟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣈⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠻⠿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣋⣡⣀⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇

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3( • ̀ω•́ )✧( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧🩷˚.🎀༘⋆(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)(ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³9️˚ ༘ 🦕𖦹⋆｡˚˚ ༘ 🦕𖦹⋆｡˚

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I love you😘😘😘-`♡´--`♡´-💯💯

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

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡶⠁⣠⣴⣾⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣴⣿⠿⠋⣁⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠀⣀⣀⣀⣨⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⠂ ⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⢀⣴⣿⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⠖⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠈⢿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣋⣠⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢄⠙⣠⠇⠀⠀⣠⠠⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⠁⠀⠀⢰⠁⠀⠀⠈⠳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⢀⣀⠤⠖⠒⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⡮⠁⠉⠁⠒⠤⢀⡼⠖⠀⠐⣗⠢⡀⢸⣏⡁⠀⠀⢀⡠⠥⠒⠲⠤⢄ ⠀⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⠀⠀⠀⣀⣈⣍⣈⡿⡘⠁⣹⡚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣠⡶⣍⣀⣠⠴⠛⠻⢇⣜⡁⠺⠽⠀⠀⠀⢠⡞⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⢰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⢷⡀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡉⢳⡄⣸⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠒⠿⢻⡖⠒⠂ ⠈⠉⠸⡍⠈⠀⠀⠘⣶⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢦⣶⡄⠀⠀⠠⢸⠅⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠔⢷⠈⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣤⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠁⠀⢀⣠⠟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣀⠷⢎⠁⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠋⠈⠒⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠉⡖⠀⠈⠑⡦⠤⠄⠄⠀⠤⠤⠤⡖⠉⠉⠹⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠒⠛⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠒⠲⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 10 (Neurodivergent author) COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 10 (Neurodivergent author) The room holds its breath, a suspended moment of understanding. Hanna nods, her smile a gentle ripple across her screen. "Ok," she says, her voice a soft echo. "Overwhelming moments it is." Plankton starts to rock slightly, they both notice. Hanna watches, her curiosity piqued. "What's with the rocking?" she asks, her voice a soft ripple of inquiry. Karen looks at her, her eyes a gentle wave of patience. "It's called self-stimulation, or 'stimming' for short," she explains. "It's a way for Plankton to regulate his senses." "But why?" Karen's smile is a soft sunrise, illuminating the room with patience. "It helps him process the world," she explains, her voice a gentle tide of understanding. "It's like a lullaby for his senses." Hanna nods, her curiosity like a tide that won't recede. "But it's not like he's just throwing a fit?" she asks, her voice a cautious wave. Plankton's rocking abruptly stops at her wording, his antennae snapping to attention like whips in a storm. His face is a mask of hurt, his voice a sharp coral when he speaks. "Don't you dare say that," Plankton snaps, his eye brimming with tears of sadness. "How could you?" Hanna's eyes widen, the room's calm shattered like a wave on the shore. "I didn't mean to..." Her words are drowned out by Plankton's sobs. "Why'd you say that?" he whispers, wiping his tears. "I didn't mean it like that," she says, her voice gaining volume. "I just don't understand..." Her words are a storm, cutting off his air like a sudden squall. Plankton's having an absence seizure, his body frozen like a statue in the middle of a tempest. His unblinking eye is unseeing, and Karen knows he's trying to process the shock. Hanna feels panicked at the sight of Plankton. "Plankton?" she whispers. Her voice is a pebble thrown into the pond of his consciousness, the ripples unnoticed. Karen's hand is a gentle anchor, a silent signal for Hanna to be calm. She moves closer, her screen a soft glow in the morning's light. "It's ok," she whispers, her voice a lullaby against the storm. "He's just having an 'overwhelming moment'." Hanna nods, her screen reflecting her newfound understanding. Karen's hand is a soft current on Plankton's back, guiding him through the tumult of his sensory overload. His body is still as a statue, his antennae a silent symphony of nerves. Hanna watches. "What's happening?" she whispers, fear lapping at her words like the tide at a rocky shore. Karen's voice is a gentle whisper, her screen a calm sea. "It's ok," she reassures, her hands a steady current on his back. "It's just an overwhelming moment." Plankton's body is a marble statue, his breathing a soft hush in the quiet room. His antennae hang limp, a silent testament to the storm within. Hanna's eyes are a sea of concern, her voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his unresponsiveness. "What do we do?" she whispers, her fear a currents in the air. Karen's screen never leaves his frozen form, her voice a soothing lullaby. "Just wait," she murmurs. "Let him come back to us." The room holds its breath, a bubble in the vast sea of their uncertainty. Plankton's body is a marble statue, his mind a tempest. Hanna's concern is a gentle current against the shoreline of her understanding. Karen's hand is a lighthouse beam, steady and strong on Plankton's back. She whispers to him, her voice the rhythm of the tides. "It's okay," she murmurs, her fingers tracing circles of comfort. "You're safe here." Her words are a lifeline thrown into the storm of his senses. His antennae twitch, a distant signal of life in the quiet morning. His eye blinks, the shutters of consciousness opening to the gentle light of her care. The room's calm is a soft embrace, their sanctuary in the storm of the world. "I'm here," Karen whispers, her voice a lighthouse beam in the fog of his fear. "You're safe." Her words are a warm current, washing over him, bringing him back to the surface. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye blinks, and he takes a shaky breath, the storm within him slowly subsiding. His body relaxes into her touch, his antennae drooping like tired seaweed. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice a quiet wave against the shore. "I didn't mean to..." Hanna's eyes are pools of regret, her smile a fading sunset. Karen nods, her gaze a gentle moonrise. "We'll take it slow," she whispers, her voice a soft surf against the shore of their friendship. The world outside the guest room is a distant hum, a gentle reminder of the waves that await them. Karen's hand is a comforting current on Plankton's back, her screen a beacon of understanding in the sea of confusion. "Let's go home," she whispers, her voice a soft ripple. Plankton nods, his body a ship at anchor, finding steadiness in her words. They move together, a silent ballet of care and trust, each step a gentle wave carrying them closer to the familiarity of their own space. "I'm sorry Plankton," Hanna says, her voice a soft ripple of regret. "I didn't know."

ᶠᶸᶜᵏme𓀐𓂸

whoever said "guy stop f-ing saying this web needs to be a f-ing app like what the f-k there lots of f-ing beef like do you guys have brain cells of a d-k sh-t like get a life if you care about f-ing 8 year olds then dont make this a f-ing app if you f-ing do more little kids will get draked like what the skidi bro get a f-ing bro°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･" please chill out like multiple people have said this is a website where little kids come on here to find cute combos so please be respectful ౨ৎ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⡶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠖⠚⠛⠛⠛⠛⠓⠶⢶⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⡶⠾⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣙⣻⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣤⣤⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠺⠟⠛⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⡿⠟⠋⣉⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠾⠿⠿⢿⣿⣟⡻⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⢀⣴⠿⠋⠉⠉⠉⠛⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⣿⠟⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠚⠋⠙⠉⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠋⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⣶⣶⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡖⠀⣰⣿⣃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠴⢿⣇⠘⣿⣿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣦⣄⣀⣀⣠⣴⣤⠾⠛⠙⠛⠻⣶⣄⠀ ⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣦⣤⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⡤⢿⡿⠁⣤⡿⠛⠶⣦⠀⠹⣦ ⢸⡇⠀⡀⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⣼⠟⣿⢳⢶⡾⣧⠀⣿ ⢸⡇⠀⠱⣀⡀⠀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⢠⡟⠒⠛⠛⠚⠓⣿⠀⣿ ⢸⣇⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⣸⡇ ⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⠘⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢐⡷⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⣿⠀ ⠀⢻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣿⡀ ⠀⠀⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠢⡀⠀⡀⣸⠇⣼⠧⠤⣄⡀⠈⣷⡀⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠉⠂⠄⠀⣠⡟⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⣸⡇⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣶⠾⠛⠉⢹⡶⣄⠁⢸⡇⠀⣿⢻⣟⣿⢻⠉⣿⠁⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⠀⠙⣾⡇⠀⢻⣏⠉⠙⢛⡿⠃⠀⣾⠃ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡾⠛⠁⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⣨⣿⣄⠀⠈⠛⠛⠋⠁⣠⡾⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⣀⣀⣾⠟⠉⠉⠛⠛⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣦⣤⣾⠏⠀⠈⠛⠲⢶⠶⠶⣿⡋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⡀⢀⣿⠀⠀⢹⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣰⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⢨⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣰⡟⠀⠻⢶⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣄⣀⣀⣴⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠳⠶⠤⠤⠤⠤⠴⠶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡏⠉⠉⠉⠙⠻⠶⠶⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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CHAT. IVE BEEN EXPOSED TO PORN AT 9YRS AND IM ADDICTED TO IT AT 15, I USED TO MASTURATE AT 10. SO SHUT UP BABES ITS 2024ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

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𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 13 The quiet was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Hanna, Karen's newest friend, who didn't know about their situation. "I brought over sudoku for you Karen," she chirped, her eyes widening as she took in Plankton's swollen face. "Oh my Neptune; what happened?" Karen chuckled, leading Hanna into the living room. "It's my husband," she whispered. "He had his wisdom teeth out." Hanna's gaze fell to Plankton, still sprawled on the couch. Her eyes went wide at the sight of his puffy mouth and dazed expression. "Oh, the poor dear," she mumbled, her voice filled with concern. Karen nodded. "It's okay, he's just a bit loopy from the anesthesia," she explained, her tone light. "And meet our son Chip, and my gal pal Sandy.." Hanna's eyes darted to Sandy, then to Chip, then back to Plankton. "Hi," Chip mumbled, his voice shy. Sandy offered a small wave from her chair. Hanna smiled warmly. "Hi there," she said, her eyes still on Plankton. "My house is being repaired and I need a place to stay.." Karen nodded. "Of course, you can stay here," she said. "You and Sandy can share the guest bedroom." Hanna's eyes widened. "But... what about him?" she whispered, pointing at Plankton. Karen chuckled. "Don't worry," she said. "He'll be out for a few more hours. Just keep it down, ok?" She didn't wanna tell Hanna about his autism without his consent. Hanna nodded, her curiosity piqued. "I'll be quiet as a clam," she promised. Karen turned back to Plankton, her gaze filled with love. "Honey," she said, her voice gentle. "We have a guest. Hanna's going to stay with us for a bit." Plankton's eye opened slightly. "Wha... who?" he slurred, his voice still thick. "It's... it's okay," Karen soothed. "It's just Ha—" But Plankton's eye closes again, cutting off her introduction. "Mmh," he mumbled, his head lolling to the side. Clearly, the anesthesia was still in full effect. Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton, her confusion clear. "Is he ok?" she asked, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity. Karen nodded. "He's fine," she said. "Just tired." With a gentle nudge, Karen coaxed Plankton to sit up, his body moving sluggishly. "Bedtime, sweetie," she said, keeping her voice low and soothing. Plankton's eye flickered open, and he looked at her with a sleepy gaze. "Bet?" He stumbled to his feet, leaning heavily on Karen's arm. "M'fine," he mumbled, his steps wobbly. Sandy watched with a soft smile, her heart warmed by the tender scene. Chip looked up from his spot on the floor, his curiosity piqued by his father's unusual behavior. They made their way to the bedroom, Plankton's steps slow and deliberate as his body fought against the anesthesia's lingering grip. Karen helped him into his bed. As she pulled the covers up to his chin, his eye fluttered open. "I... I wuv youw," he whispered, his voice still slurred. Karen's eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too," she said, kissing his forehead. With a gentle touch, she began to remove the gauze from his mouth. His eye widened slightly, and he made a small protesting sound. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured. The gauze came away with ease, revealing the stitches. Plankton's mouth was still slightly swollen, but the bleeding had stopped. Sandy watched from the doorway, her smile warm. "We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?" Plankton nodded, his gaze drooping. "M'kay," he mumbled. Karen tucked him in, his body already starting to relax into sleep. As she turned off the light, she couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over her. Despite the day's events, Plankton had managed to show them all his true colors, his love and affection shining through the fog of pain and medication. The next morning, any anesthesia in Plankton's body was gone. He woke up, his hand flying to his mouth. "Oww," he whined, his mouth hurting and sore. Karen greets him. "Good morning, darling," she said softly. "How do you feel?" Plankton's face scrunched up as he tried to recall. "Right, I had my wisdom teeth out," he said, his speech no longer slurred. He sat up slowly, his hands gently touching the swollen cheeks. "It's okay," Karen said. "It's normal to feel discomfort after surgery." Plankton nodded, his mind racing as he remembered the previous night's events. "What happened last night?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. Karen smiled, handing him a cup of water. "You had a bit of an adventure," she said. "But we'll tell you all about it later." She helped him sip the water. "What all do you remember, Plankton?" He furrowed his brow, his thoughts jumbled. "I remember... I remember going and... the mask," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I next woke up..." His voice trailed off, his gaze darting around the room. "I was helped to the car. I believe that's all."

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 14 Karen had decided to keep his post-surgery nonsense revelations to themselves for now, not wanting to overwhelm him with too much information at once. Chip and Sandy entered the room, their eyes filled with concern. "Morning, Dad," Chip said, his voice tentative. Plankton looked up at his son, then at Sandy. "You both... you were... there?" he asked, his voice still groggy. Sandy nodded, a gentle smile on her face. "You had a good night," she assured him. Chip sat on the edge of the bed, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What do you mean?" Plankton asked, his gaze shifting from one to the other. Sandy cleared her throat. "You were a bit... out of it," she began. "You said some things that were... well, not quite like you." Plankton's eye narrowed slightly, his memory foggy. "What kind of things?" Karen and Sandy exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them. "You were just loopy," Karen said gently. "You know, from the medicine." Plankton nodded, his curiosity still piqued. "Like what?" "Well," Chip began, "you called me your best son." Plankton's eye went wide. "What?" he exclaimed, his voice sharp. "I said that?" Karen nodded with a soft smile. "You did, Plankton." Plankton's face grew red with embarrassment. "Oh, Neptune," he mumbled, his hand flying to his mouth. Sandy stepped forward. "You don't need to be embarrassed, Plankton," she said gently. "It's just how the anesthesia affected you." Plankton took a deep breath, his mind racing. "I... I remember feeling relieved to be ok..." Chip leaned in, his voice filled with wonder. "Dad, you were like a different person. You were so..." Plankton's face grew redder, his discomfort palpable. "Chip, I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice sharp. "Please, just... just give me some space." Karen stepped in, her voice soothing. "It's okay, Plankton. The anesthesia can make people say things they don't mean." But Chip was insistent, his eyes wide with curiosity. "But Dad, you said you love me," he pressed, his voice innocent and hopeful. Plankton swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest, when Hanna came in. "Oh, Plankton, you're finally awake!" she said, cheerfully. He looked at her, his expression blank. "You don't remember?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "Remember what?" he mumbled, his head throbbing with confusion. "Who is SHE?" Karen stepped in, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Plankton," she said gently. "You had some medicine that made you a bit loopy. This is Hanna, my friend. She's staying here while her house gets repairs." Plankton's gaze went to Hanna. "Friend?" he repeated, his voice still thicker than usual. Hanna smiled warmly. "Hi there, Plankton! I'm so sorry to see you feeling poorly.." Her cheerfulness was met with Plankton's skepticism. He'd never met her before, and his autistic mind was still trying to piece together the events of the previous evening. His eye narrowed slightly as he took her in, his usual caution in full force. "I... I don't know you," he said. Hanna's smile didn't waver. "But your wife Karen is one of my best friends!" Karen stepped in, seeing the uncertainty in Plankton's gaze. "Remember Hanna, sweetie?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton frowned, his mind racing to recall any details. "I don't..." he trailed off, his voice filled with confusion. Hanna approached the bed, her movements slow and careful not to startle him. "It's okay. I'm a friend of Karen's." She held out a hand. "Would you li—" But Plankton recoiled, his body tensing. "Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. Hanna's hand hovered in the air, before retreating. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" "It's fine," Karen said, cutting her off. She knew how overwhelming the world could be for Plankton, and this was clearly pushing his limits. She and Sandy shared a knowing look. Plankton's autism often made social situations challenging, and his sensory processing was particularly sensitive as he recovers from oral surgery. "Daddy, it's okay," Chip whispered, placing a tentative hand on Plankton's shoulder. The touch was unwelcome, and Plankton's eye darted to his son's, his frustration mounting. "Don't touch me!" he shouted, pushing Chip's hand away. The sudden movement sent a shockwave of pain through his jaw. He whimpered as he leaned back. Sandy saw the flash of anger in Plankton's eye. "Chip, give your dad some space," she suggested calmly. Chip's eyes widened, and he took a step back, his face a mask of hurt. Karen's heart ached. Hanna looked shocked, her hands clutching her sudoku book to her chest. "Plankton," she began, her voice shaking. "I said don't touch me!" Plankton yelled again, his voice echoing through the small room. His body was wracked with pain and frustration, and the sudden influx of people and stimuli was too much to handle. Hanna took a deep breath and stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate. "Plankton, it's okay," she said calmly. "It's okay, ju—" "NO!" Plankton's voice boomed through the room, his body shaking with anger. "I don't want anyone touching me!" Karen stepped closer, her voice soothing. "Plankton, it's okay. You're just in pain. Remember?" she asked, her hand reaching for a plush toy. Plankton swiped it away, his fury building. "No, I don't want that!" His eye darted around the room, his breaths quick and shallow. The pain from his surgery was now secondary to the storm of emotions inside his mind. He was a creature of routine and predictability, and the sudden influx of new faces and sensations was more than he could bear.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 15 "I said NO!" Plankton's voice boomed again, his tiny fists clenched tightly by his side. His body was a coil of tension, his usual calculating gaze replaced by one of pure, unbridled rage. Karen stepped back, her heart racing. She'd seen this side of him before, yet it was always a shock. Plankton's chest heaved with heavy breaths, his face a mask of pain and fury. Karen knew that his anger was a defense mechanism, a way to cope with the overwhelming sensory overload. She took a tentative step closer, her hands up in a non-threatening motion. "No, no, no," he muttered, shaking his head. "I don't like it. I don't like it when they touch me." His voice was a mix of anger and fear. Sandy stepped in, her voice calm and soothing. "It's okay, Plankton. We're just trying to help." She offered a gentle smile, her hands open and palms facing him. "Let's al-" "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" Plankton's scream pierced the silence, sending a shiver down Sandy's spine. His tiny body was a whirlwind of anger, his eye wild with fear. Karen stepped back, knowing that pushing him now would only make things worse. Chip looked at his father, his eyes wide with fright. He'd never seen his father like this. Hanna, however, thought he needed more than just space. Her instincts told her to comfort him, to show him that he wasn't alone. She took a step closer, her hand reaching out again. "Plankton," she said softly, her eyes filled with understanding. But her gentle touch was met with a sudden jerk, as Plankton swiped her hand away with a snarl. "No!" he shouted, his body stiffening against the bed. "I said no!" Karen's heart ached as she watched her husband's breakdown unfold. She knew his autism made him particularly sensitive to touch, especially when he was in pain or overwhelmed. Hanna, though well-meaning, was unaware of this and her persistent affection was only exacerbating his distress. "Back off!" Plankton roared, his body arching. Hanna froze, her hand in mid-air. "I'm sorry, Plankton," she stammered, her eyes wide with shock. She'd never seen anyone react so violently to kindness before, Plankton's eye darting around the room. "I don't like it," he murmured, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "I don't like it.." "But... but Plankton," Hanna protested, her voice quavering. "You're hurt, I just want to help." Plankton's body stilled, his eye flickering with a mix of emotions. "I don't like it," he repeated, his voice low. "It's okay," Karen said, keeping her voice calm. Chip nodded, his eyes still wide with concern, but he backed away. Sandy took a step back too, her expression a mix of surprise and understanding. Only Hanna remained, her hand hovering in the air, her brows furrowed with confusion. "Plankton," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I just want to make sure you're okay." His eye darted to her, his anger flaring anew. "I'm fine," he snarled, his voice harsh. "Just... leave me al-" "But Plankton," Hanna protested, her voice filled with concern. "You're acting so problematic." She doesn't understand the depth of his condition, and the next word slips out before she could catch it. "You're being so... ret-" The word hung in the air, a sharp knife cutting through the tension. Plankton's body stiffened, his eye flaring with a mix of anger and pain. His heart skipped a beat, a cruel reminder of the slur that had caused so much pain in the past. "Get out," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Get out, now." Hanna looked at him, her expression a mix of shock and pity. "But Plankton, we all know you are!" She stated. "You need to understand that your behavior is unacceptable. Do you think Karen herself would have married you if she knew you were...? You know you are, Plankton. It's just a fact." Plankton felt tears well up in his eye. "Hanna, that's enough!" he snapped. But Hanna was on a roll, her voice growing louder with each word. "You're just a burden, always needing special treatment," she said, her voice harsh. "That's not fair, Hanna," he said, his voice firm. "And if Karen heard yo-" "Oh, please," Hanna sneered. "Your poor wife has to deal with this every day. She deserves better." Plankton's eye narrowed, his anger building. "You don't know anything about what Karen and I have," he said, his voice shaking. "Karen won't be hap–" "Karen is a saint, Plankton," Hanna interrupted, her voice dripping with condescension. "Putting up with your little... quirks. And Karen won't tell you the truth, but I will. You're a re--- and she knows it. She's too nice to say it, but we all know. Karen doesn't actually love someone like you, Plankton." She said, her voice cold and sharp. "You want people to feel sorry for you, but even Karen believes that deep down. Why else would she have picked someone like me over you? So go ahead, have your little tantrum; no one cares." With that, Hanna turned and left, the door slamming behind her. Was it true? He took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eye, willing the tears away. When he opened it again, his gaze fell on the plush toy Karen had left on his bedside table. He picked it up, his thumb rubbing the soft fabric absently. Did Karen see him as only something to be just pitied, rather than loved? To hear it from someone so close to Karen was like being stabbed in the heart. He curled into a ball.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 16 Plankton then heard Karen come in. "Hey; I'm just checking on you," she said gently, not aware that Hanna bullied him, unaware of what's said. Plankton's throat tightened. "I'm fine," he murmured. Karen's eyes searched his face, looking for the truth. "You don't have to lie to me, sweetie," she said softly. "Is everything okay? You know I'm here for you.." But Hanna's words echoed in his head, a toxic whisper that threatened to shatter the fragile bond he had with his wife. "Just tired," he managed to say, his voice small. Karen nodded, her expression filled with concern. "Okay," she said. "But if you wanna ta—" "I'm fine," Plankton said, his voice harsher than intended. Karen's smile faltered. The weight of Hanna's words was too heavy for him to ignore, his thoughts a jumble of anger and hurt. He pushed the plush toy away, the softness now a painful reminder of the care he wasn't sure he truly deserved. Karen noticed the change in his tone and stepped closer. "Plankton, what happened?" she asked, her voice filled with worry. "Was it something I said?" Plankton's eye flickered to hers, his anger replaced by sadness. "No, Karen," he said, his voice smaller than usual. "It was just... just forget it." Karen knew Plankton's autism made him sensitive to certain words and tones, but she couldn't pinpoint what had triggered him. The room was quiet, the tension thick. Karen sat down on the bed, her hand reaching for his. "Plank-" He jerked away, his voice sharp. "Don't," he said. Karen's heart sank. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern. She didn't know what Hanna said. Plankton looked away, his eye brimming with unshed tears. "It's... it's nothing," he murmured. But the hurt in his voice was unmistakable. Karen's heart broke. "Plankton," she said, her voice soft. "You can tell me anything. I'm here for you." But Plankton wasn't so sure, not after Hanna gaslit him. He swallowed hard, the pain in his chest a dull ache. "It's just... it's nothing," he repeated, his voice a whisper. But the hurt was evident, his body language screaming his internal turmoil. Karen's heart raced, her mind whirring as she tried to understand what had changed. Her hand hovered in the air, unsure if it was safe to touch him again. "Was it something someone said to you?" she ventured, her voice tentative. Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the wall, his body tense. He took a deep breath, the anger still simmering just beneath the surface. "It's Hanna," he finally said, his voice barely above a murmur. "What about Hanna?" Karen asked, her eyes searching his. "She said... she said that you only married me out of pity," Plankton whispered, his voice trembling. Karen's face fell, her heart heavy with disbelief. "What?" she exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth. "That's not true," she said firmly. "I love you, Plankton. You know tha-" But Plankton was lost in his own thoughts, the pain of Hanna's accusation cutting deep. "And that... that you deserve someone better," he added, his voice small. Karen's eyes filled with anger. How could her friend say such a thing? "Plankton," she said, her voice steady. "Look at me." His gaze met hers, his eye red-rimmed and full of doubt. "I chose to marry you because you're the most amazing person I've ever met. Your autism is part of who you are, and I love all of you. You're not a burden to me, you're a blessing. Hanna was out of line, and I'll talk to her about it." But Plankton couldn't shake off the hurt. He knew Karen meant well, but the seeds of doubt Hanna had sown grew in the fertile soil of his insecurity. "I know you're just trying to make me feel better," he mumbled, his gaze still on the wall. "But it's true, isn't it? Why else would Hanna tell me that you've been hiding how much better off you could be without me?" Karen felt her blood boil. "What did she say to you?" she demanded, her voice tight. Plankton flinched, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. "It's okay," she said gently. "You can tell me." He took another deep breath, the plush toy squeezed tightly in his hand. "She said that I'm uh, that same slur Chip used, and that you're just too nice to leave me. She told me how you deserve better, how no one could truly love someone like me." His voice broke, the pain in his words like a knife to her heart. "I'm sorry, Karen. I just never knew you felt that wa-" But Karen was already on her feet, her eyes flashing. "That's it," she said, her voice cold. "I'm going to talk to Hanna right now." Plankton tried to sit up, his hand reaching out to her. "Karen, no-" "I can't believe she said that," Karen fumed, her hands shaking with anger. "I'll set her straight." Her mind raced with what Hanna could have possibly told Plankton to make him feel so small and unloved. She knew his autism made him vulnerable to misunderstanding, but this was beyond the pale. Her heart ached for her husband, who had been through so much already. Plankton was already so sensitive to the way others perceived him, and Hanna's words had only served to amplify his fears.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 17 Karen stepped into the hallway, her eyes scanning for Hanna. She found her in the kitchen, still clutching her Sudoku book, looking lost and confused. "What did you say to Plankton?" Karen demanded, her voice firm but controlled. Hanna's gaze snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What did you say to him that made him so upset?" Karen's words were measured, but her anger was palpable. Hanna's cheeks flushed. "I just tried to help," she protested. "He was in pain and—" "What. Did. You. Say?" Karen's voice was like ice, her eyes boring into Hanna. The room felt smaller, the air heavier with tension. "Well," Hanna began, her throat dry. "I just pointed out that you could do so much better than someone like Plankton. I mean, you're so kind and patient, and he's..." The slur slipped from her mouth, echoing the one Chip had used so carelessly before. The air in the room grew heavy with tension. Karen's face contorted with rage, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "How dare you?" she spat. "How dare you speak to him like that?" Hanna's eyes widened, seeing the fury in Karen's expression. "It's just the truth," she stuttered. "You know it's true. You're too good for him. Everyone knows it. I wanted him to realize that." Karen's voice was low and dangerous. "You will never speak to him like that again," she said, each word enunciated carefully. "Do you understand?" Hanna took a step back, intimidated by the fire in Karen's eyes. "But... but he's-" "Plankton is my husband," Karen interrupted, her voice sharp. "And he's the most important person in my life. If you can't accept him..." Karen sighed. "When Plankton was born," she began, her tone softening. "He was a perfectly normal baby, but there was a... complication. During delivery, his head got stuck. It... it caused his brain to be deprived of oxygen and blood flow for a few moments too long. The pressure was too much." She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "That's what led to this condition, not a choice he made. And I wouldn't trade him for anyone else in the world. It's not anything that could've been controlled, but that childbirth resulted in my husband's disability, which is autism." Hanna's eyes grew wide with shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my Neptune, I had no idea," she whispered. "I didn't realize he actually had a condition." Her voice was barely audible, the weight of her ignorance heavy in the air. Karen's eyes searched Hanna's face. "Yes, and so what you said was incredibly hurtful." Hanna's eyes filled with remorse, her shoulders slumping. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears. "I never meant to... I just thought I was being honest." Her voice cracked with the realization. Karen's anger dissipated a bit, replaced by a deep sadness. "Honesty without empathy can be cruel," she said softly. "But now that you know, you can do better." Hanna nodded, her gaze downcast. "I'll apologize," she whispered. But Karen was already thinking of Plankton, alone in his room, feeling like a burden. She turned and walked back to the bedroom, her heart heavy with the weight of the conversation. When she entered, Plankton was exactly as she'd left him: curled up, staring at the wall. "Hey," Karen said gently, sitting down beside him. "I talked to Hanna." He didn't respond. "She's sorry," Karen continued. Plankton's eye flicked to hers, his expression unreadable. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice hollow. "We know it's true." The doubt in his voice was a knife in Karen's heart. "No, it's not," she said fiercely. "I love you, Plankton. You are not a burden. You are a miracle, a beautiful, wonderful person, and I am so lucky to have you in my life." She took his hand, her grip firm and reassuring. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?" Plankton's eye searched hers, his doubt battling with the love he saw there. "But she's..." "Hanna is wrong," Karen interrupted. "You're not anything like what she said. You're smart and funny and sassy and... perfect. Perfect for me." She leaned in closer, her voice a gentle whisper. "You're everything I never knew I needed until I fell in love with you." Plankton's body relaxed slightly, his gaze flickering towards her. "But what if..." he began, his voice trailing off. "What if I can't be a good enough husband to yo-" "Don't," Karen said, cutting him off gently. "You are a wonderful husband, and everything I could ever want. Your autism is one part of what makes you special, Plankton. It's not something to be ashamed of, or something that makes you less than. It's just how you are." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "And I love all of you." Plankton felt a tear slip down his cheek. "But what if I can't... understand you? Or what if I hurt you?" His voice was small, filled with fear. Karen leaned in, her eyes filled with warmth. "You don't," she assured him. "Because we're in this together. And I'll always be here to help you through the hard parts, just like I know you'd do for me." She paused, a sad smile playing on her lips. "You know, when we first met, I didn't know about your autism. But once I did, it didn't make me love you less, it just made me love you more." Plankton's eye searched hers, his doubt slowly fading. "But sometimes..." he whispered. "Sometimes, it's hard." Karen nodded, her heart breaking for him. "I know it is, sweetie," she said softly. "But we figure it out together, okay?" Just then, Hanna came in the room to apologize. Her eyes were red from crying, and she looked genuinely regretful. "Plankton, I'm so sorry," she began, her voice quavering. "I didn't know... it was a slur. I was only trying to keep peace, but I was wrong. I'm sorry for the hurtful things I said." Plankton's gaze remained on the floor, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Karen's words of love and support were comforting, but Hanna's apology was a surprise. He felt a pang of guilt for not correcting Hanna earlier, but his own fear of rejection was a powerful silencer. "I didn't know," Hanna continued, her voice sincere. "I had no idea it would hurt you like that." Plankton slowly lifted his head, his single eye meeting hers. "I see," he said, his voice still weak from the emotional turmoil. "But what do you want me to do, just sit around and feel sorry for you? Nobody cares if you throw a fit, Hanna!" He says, repeating her own insults. The room was silent for a moment before Hanna spoke again, her voice shaky. "I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't underst--" But Plankton didn't let her finish. "You just wanna get on Karen's good side don't you? Don't deny what you said to me!" Hanna's eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. "I know I was wrong, Plankton. I'm truly sorry," she whispered. Karen's heart ached for both of them, the pain of misunderstanding thick in the air. She knew that Hanna's words had been born out of ignorance, not malice. But the hurt they'd caused was real and Plankton's having none of it. "Why should I believe you?" he asked, his voice low. "After all, I'm just a problematic burden right? You had the nerve to—" "No," Hanna interrupted, her voice firm. "That's not true. I'm the one who should be ashamed." She took a deep breath. "I've been ignorant, and I'm sorry. I didn't know what it's like for—" "For what?" Plankton challenged, his anger resurfacing. "For someone like me, who doesn't know how to behave?" His voice was louder now, his body tense. Hanna flinched at his words. "You think I don't know what people say behind my back?" He spat. "You think I'm just a slur?" Hanna stood there, her eyes brimming with tears, her expression contrite. But Plankton couldn't find it in himself to forgive her so easily. "I do accept you," Hanna stuttered. "I just didn't know how to handle-" "Handle what?" Plankton's voice was sharp, the anger threatening to boil over. "How to handle someone who doesn't fit your perfect little mold?" Karen's grip on his hand tightened, her silent plea for calm going unheard. "And Karen's free to be with whoever she likes, so let her choose where her loyalties lie. I heard you say Karen chose you over me; but was that before or after you explained how unlovable I--" "Plankton, we all need to learn from this. Hanna's apology is genuine, yet she needs to understand what she said was wrong," Karen said, cutting through the tension. Hanna nodded, her eyes still on Plankton. "I'm sorry for my ignorance. I never knew how much my words could hurt. I'll do better." Her voice was sincere, and Plankton felt a flicker of something like forgiveness. But the pain was still raw, and he wasn't ready to let go of his anger just yet.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 19 He looked at Karen, his confusion clear. "What happened?" he asks her. Karen took a deep breath, preparing herself for the task of explaining the past few minutes. "You had a seizure, baby," she said, keeping her voice calm and steady. "But it's over now, and you're okay." Plankton blinked slowly, his eye still hazy. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on Hanna. "You're here," he said, his voice filled with mortification and anxiety. Hanna nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm here," she whispered, her voice tentative. Plankton's face twisted into a frown, his thoughts racing. He didn't remember her being here during the seizure. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want her witnessing what ever may have happened. His heart raced, his mind spinning. What all did he do in front of her? Hanna looked at him, her eyes full of concern and something else, regret? "You were just playing with your star," she said gently, trying to ease his distress. "And you even talked about how I was like pretty bubblegum; rememb-" "No," Plankton interrupted. He didn't want Hanna to see his vulnerability, especially after what she'd said about him. The room was silent, the tension palpable. Karen watched them both, her heart torn. Hanna's expression was a mixture of regret and fear, while Plankton's was closed off. "I don't know if I can forgive you, Hanna," Plankton finally said, his voice no longer slurred. Hanna's eyes filled with tears, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I don't blame you," she said softly. "But I hope you can find it in your heart to give me a chance to make it up to you." Plankton looked at her, his gaze unreadable. Karen knew that forgiveness was a process, and Plankton needed time. "You don't have to decide right now," she said. "We can talk about it more when you're feeling better." Plankton nodded, his gaze still fixed on the star. "But I don't remember this star," he said, his voice filled with confusion. Hanna's heart sank. "It's okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's a toy Karen got for you to help you feel safe and lo---" "No," Plankton interrupted, his voice sharp. "I don't remember any of this." His hand tightened around the plush toy, his knuckles white. "I don't remember anything about this!" Karen knew Plankton wouldn't remember the comfort Hanna brought during his seizure, the gentle guidance to focus on the star. He didn't remember her soothing voice, her calm in his chaos. It was like it had never happened. Hanna's eyes searched his, desperate for a flicker of understanding, a sign that he knew she was sorry. But all she saw was confusion and fear, the same look he'd given her when she'd first accidentally used that slur. Karen stepped in. "Do you remember our talk about how sometimes after a seizure, things can be a bit fuzzy?" Hanna felt another twinge of guilt. "It's okay," Karen said, sitting next to him on the bed. "It's normal for your memory to be a bit fuzzy coming out of a seizure, Plankton." He looked at her, his eye searching hers. "But I don't remember you or Hanna interacting," he said, his voice shaky. "I just remember... I dunno." Karen nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "You weren't fully conscious, sweetie. It's like when you wake up from a deep sleep." Plankton's frown deepened. He didn't like not knowing, not remembering. It made his chest tight, his heart race. He knew he could trust Karen, but Hanna was still a question mark, her earlier words echoing in his mind. Hanna reached out to him again, her hand hovering in the air before touching his shoulder lightly. "I'm here for you, Plankton," she said, her voice shaky with emotion. Plankton stiffened at the contact, his senses still on high alert. He wasn't used to being touched like that, not without warning. "No," he said, his voice sharp. "I don't like it." Hanna flinched, her hand retreating quickly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Karen put her hand on Hanna's shoulder. "Remember, Hanna, we need to respect his boundaries. It's part of who he is." Hanna nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "I know, Karen. I just want to help." Karen squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "I know you do, but we need to do it his way." Plankton looked up at Hanna, his expression a mix of anger and confusion. "Why?" he asked. "Why'd you say those things?" Hanna took a deep breath, her voice trembling. "I didn't know," she said. "I didn't know what it was like for you. I didn't underst--" "Understand what?" Plankton's voice was sharp, cutting through the air. "That I'm different?" He threw the star aside, his body tense with anger. "That I can't just be like whatever you think I should be?" Hanna's eyes filled with tears. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," she said, her voice cracking. "I just... I didn't know." Plankton's chest heaved with each ragged breath he took. "Well, now you do," he said, his voice cold. "Being someone you can't even bother to understand." The room was heavy with tension, each of them lost in their own world of thoughts. Karen's heart ached for both of them, knowing how much Plankton craved acceptance, and how much Hanna wished she could take back her words. "Maybe," Karen began, her voice tentative, "we should talk about it." Hanna nodded, her eyes glued to Plankton. "I'm here to listen," she said, her voice filled with genuine remorse. Plankton looked at her, his expression still guarded. "You know what, Hanna?" he said, his voice taking on a syrupy sweetness that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I forgive you." Hanna's face lit up with relief, but Karen knew that tone. It was the one he used when he was trying to cover his hurt. "Thank you, Plankton," Hanna breathed, her eyes brimming with tears. "I really am sorry, you know that right?" Plankton nodded, his smile forced. "Of course," he said, his voice sticky with false cheer. "It's all water under the bridge." Karen watched the two of them, her heart heavy. The fake sweetness in Plankton's voice was a defense mechanism, one he'd developed over the years of navigating a world that often didn't understand his condition. She knew his words weren't genuine, his anger and pain still bubbling just below the surface. But she stayed silent. But Hanna, oblivious, took his words at face value. "I'm so grateful, Plankton," she said, her voice choking. "I'll do better." Plankton nodded, his expression still a mask. "I know you will," he said, his voice too bright. "You're always so kind, never letting me down." His sarcasm was lost on Hanna, who took his words as genuine. He knew she was trying, but the hurt went deeper than a simple apology could mend. So he played along, his heart feeling heavier with each forced smile. "You're the best, Hanna," Plankton said, his voice dripping with a sugary sweetness that didn't match the bitterness in his soul. "Always looking out for me." Karen watched, knowing better than to interrupt. Hanna's eyes searched his, desperate for a sign that he meant it. "Really, Plankton?" she asked, hopeful. "You know I'm here for you, right?" Plankton's smile grew, his words sticky with sarcasm. "Always, Hanna," he said, his voice dripping with patronizing kindness. "You're like a knight in shining armor, ready to save me from my own autistic self." Hanna's eyes searched his, uncertain of his meaning. "What do you mean, Plankton?" she asked, her voice trembling with hope. He leaned back into the pillows, his expression smug. "You know, always ready to fix what's not broken," he said, his eye still not quite meeting hers. "I just want to help," Hanna whispered, her voice cracking. Plankton nodded, his smile still too sweet. "And I'm so lucky to have you," he said, his tone laced with a patronizing sarcasm that made Karen's heart ache. Hanna, though, seemed to miss the undertones, her face lighting up at his words. "Really, Plankto-" "Oh, absolutely," he interrupted, his voice a knife wrapped in cotton. "You're like my personal superhero, swooping in to save me from the horrors of being who I am." His eye flitted around the room, avoiding contact with Hanna's hopeful gaze. "It's so... noble of you." The sarcasm in his tone was thick, a bitterness seeping through every word. Hanna looked at him, confused. "What do you mean, Plankton?" she asked, her voice soft. "You know I just want-" "Oh, I know," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You want to fix me. Like I'm some kind of project you can just whip into shape with your magic wand of 'normalcy'." Hanna's eyes widened, her heart sinking at his words. "That's not what I meant," she protested, but Plankton was on a roll, his anger giving him a sharpness he rarely displayed.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 20 "You think you know what's best for me," Plankton continued, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Because obviously, I'm just a lost cause, right? Too autistic to know what I need or want for myself." His eye focused on her, a challenge in its depths. "But let me tell you something, Hanna. Your neurotypical world isn't the be-all, end-all. You think because I don't fit in your tidy little box, I must be some kind of burden‽" Hanna felt the sting of his words, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Plankton, no, that's not what I meant at all-" "But that's what you said," Plankton interrupted, his voice sharp. "That's what you implied." Hanna's eyes searched his, desperation in her gaze. "I didn't mean it like that," she said, her voice trembling. "I just..." But Plankton was on a roll, his words fueled by both anger and fear. "You think you can just waltz in here and tell me how to live my life?" he spat. "You think because you don't understand me, I'm the one who's broken?" Hanna felt the weight of his accusation, her heart heavy with guilt. She knew she'd been wrong, but she never meant to make him feel this way. "Plankton, please," she whispered. "Let me make it up to yo-" But Plankton was beyond reason. His eye flashed with fury, his voice shaking. "No!" he shouted, his body trembling. "You don't get to decide when I've had en-" "Plankton," Karen's voice was firm but gentle. "You're upset. It's okay to be upset. But let's talk about this calmly." He turned to her, his eye still blazing with anger. "Why should I be calm?" he demanded. "Why should I be nice and polite when she can't even bother t---" "Plankton," Karen cut him off, her voice still calm. "You're right, she hurt you. But anger won't fix it." Plankton's chest heaved with the force of his breath, his grip on the blanket tight. He knew she was right, but the emotion was too strong to be contained. It's not fair, unfair Hanna gets the sympathy.. "I'm sorry, Plankton," Hanna whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that." Karen's hand was a gentle pressure on his back, grounding him. "But you have to understand, Hanna's trying to learn," she said, her voice firm but calm. "But why does she get to make mistakes and still get treated like a hero?" he asked, his voice full of hurt. "Why does everyone always take the side of neurotypicals?" The room was silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Hanna looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. "That's not what I meant," she said, her voice small. "I just wa-" "But it's what you did," Plankton snapped, his voice sharp. "You don't get it. Everyone treated me like barnacles for a disability! But you, you get to be clumsy and still get the gold star. But it's always me who's the problem," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "It's always me who has to get disciplined.." Karen's eyes searched his, seeing the depth of his pain. She knew he wasn't just talking about Hanna. This was about a lifetime of feeling misunderstood and undervalued. "Plankton, you're not a problem," she said, her voice firm. "You're amazing, just as you are. And Hanna's here to learn." He looked at her, his eye still flashing with anger. "But why does she get to be the hero?" he demanded. "Why does she get to mess up and still be the one who's right?" Karen took a deep breath, her heart breaking for him. "Because she's trying, Plankton," she said gently. "And she's learning." "But it's not fair," he said, his voice filled with the frustration of a lifetime of being misunderstood. "I try so hard, and nobody cares." Karen's heart ached. She knew he did, she knew how much he struggled every day. "People care," she said. "But they don't always know how to sh-" "No," Plankton interrupted, his voice rising. "They don't care enough to understand!" He sat up in bed, his eye blazing. "Do you know what they used to do to me in school?" he demanded, his face red with anger. "Do you know the teachers looked away while the other kids called me names and poked at me? Yet when it made me have a seizure, it's me who teachers tied up in a chair!" Hanna's eyes widened in horror, while Karen felt her own anger flare at the thought of Plankton suffering like that. She'd always known school had been difficult for him, but to hear the extent of his suffering was too much to bear. Karen's blood boiled at the thought of her love being a scapegoat. "Plankton," she began, her voice thick with emotion. "You're not the problem. You never w---" But he didn't let her finish. "They did it because I'm different!" he shouted. "Because I'm not like them!" Hanna looked at him, her eyes filled with regret. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I had no idea." Plankton looked at her, his gaze intense. "So, what are you going to do about it?" Hanna swallowed hard. "I'll learn," she said, her voice determined. "I'll do everything I can to understand." Karen nodded. "That's a good start," she said, her voice still gentle. "But it's not just about understanding. It's about respecting him." Plankton's breathing slowed, his body still tense. "You'll have to prove it," he said, his voice still sharp. "Prove you're not just playing along until I'm convenient again." Hanna nodded, her eyes determined. "I will," she said. "I promise." Plankton studied her, his expression softening slightly. He wanted to believe her, he really did. But the hurt was to fresh. Karen watched the exchange, her heart heavy. She knew that Plankton's trust wasn't easily earned, especially after something like this. But she also knew that Hanna meant it. Hanna took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Plankton's. "I'll do better," she said, her voice sincere. "I'll educate myself, I'll listen to you, and I'll never make you feel like that again." Plankton searched her gaze, his own eye still filled with sorrow. He knew she meant it, but the fear was still present. "Fine," he said, his voice small. "But if you ever say something like that again, I can't be around you." Hanna's heart broke at his words, the gravity of what she'd done hitting her full force. "I won't," she promised. "I'll be better." Plankton nodded, his grip on the blanket relaxing slightly. Karen's hand squeezed his shoulder, her own support unwavering.

28 Apr 2026 Drooling occurs when excess saliva spills out of the mouth. There are a few reasons for drooling in your sleep, including side sleeping and mouth breathing during sleep. Additionally, the swallow reflex occurs much less during sleep than during waking hours which can lead to a buildup of saliva. While we sleep, our swallowing reflexes rest just like muscles and all other body parts, including the face. During this resting period saliva could accumulate and escape through the sides of our mouths. Less swallowing leads to more saliva in the mouth, which can come out during your sleep as drool. Because drool is your saliva escaping your mouth unintentionally, it's more likely to happen when you're not consciously able to control it, like when you're sleeping. When you sleep, all of the muscles in your body become more relaxed. Sometimes, your sleeping position is to blame.

PLUSH ONE xvii (By NeuroFabulous) They sit in silence, observing Plankton's shaking form. His antennae quiver in time with his ragged breaths. Hanna's eyes are a pool of uncertainty, but she nods. They watch as Plankton's body relaxes, his antennae stilling. He opens his eye, his gaze searching the room. Karen's heart clenches as she sees the fear in his eye. Hanna's hand twitches, wanting to reach out, but she stops herself. She's learned his boundaries, the invisible walls of his autism. "Plankton?" she whispers, her voice soft. His antennae twitch, his eye snapping to her. "What?" he says, his voice a defensive whisper. Hanna's voice is tentative, her hand hovering in the air. "I'm... I'm not taking your plushie," she says, her eyes filled with sincerity. "I just want to help." Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze still wary. "Help?" he whispers, his voice a soft question. Hanna nods, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes," she says, her voice gentle. "We're here for you." Plankton's antennae still, his gaze unreadable. Karen's heart is a tight knot of fear and hope. "It's okay," she whispers. "We're a team, remember?" His eye flickers, a glimpse of the Plankton she knows, the one who used to laugh and scheme. Slowly, he nods. Karen's heart soars with relief. "Good," she whispers. "We're here." Plankton's antennae quiver, his body tense. He's not sure how to respond to this new dynamic, where his fear dictates their interactions. He looks at the plushie in his arms, the soft fabric comforting against his skin. It's a constant in a world that's shifted on its axis. Karen's eyes are filled with understanding. "We'll find a way," she whispers, her voice a soft promise. "Together." Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze flicking between Karen and Hanna. He feels their warmth, their care. Slowly, he nods. "Plankton," Hanna says, her voice a soft question. "Can I...sit with you?" Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye darting between her and the plushie. Slowly, he nods. Hanna takes a tentative step forward, her heart racing. She sits down carefully beside him, her movements measured, not wanting to startle him. Her hand hovers, unsure if he'll let her touch him. Karen watches, her heart in her throat. She's seen this before, the struggle for understanding. But this time, it's different. This time, Hanna's here. Hanna's hand hovers over Plankton's arm, a silent offer of friendship. Plankton's eye flickers to it, then back to her face. His antennae quiver, his body tense. He's trying to process, to understand this new dynamic. Slowly, Hanna sets her hand on his arm. His body jolts, but he doesn't pull away. Karen's breath catches as she waits for his reaction. But Plankton simply looks at Hanna, his gaze searching. Hanna's hand is a gentle weight, a silent promise of support. Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye blinking rapidly. He's trying to process this new sensation, this unexpected touch from someone other than Karen. Karen's heart races as she watches, her eyes never leaving his face. She sees the tension in his body, the way his eye flutters with uncertainty. Plankton's gaze is on Hanna's hand, the contact unfamiliar. He takes a deep breath, his tiny chest rising and falling with the effort. Karen's stance is poised, ready to intervene if needed. But Hanna's touch is gentle, almost imperceptible. Plankton's antennae twitch, his body still tense. He's not used to this, not used to anyone other than Karen invading his space. His new world is defined by sensory overload and the need for sameness. Karen's eyes are a silent prayer, her body poised to intervene. But she holds back, giving Hanna a chance to connect, to bridge the gap that autism has created. Hanna's hand remains steady on Plankton's arm, her eyes never leaving his. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice a soft apology. "I didn't mean to upset you." Plankton's antennae quiver, his body slowly relaxing. He's still on edge, his autism making him hyper- aware of the unpredictable world around him. He looks at Hanna's hand, the new sensation strange, despite not being entirely unpleasant. Karen's eyes are filled with hope, her breath held. Hanna's touch is a bridge, a tentative reach across the chasm of misunderstanding. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a gentle reassurance. "I'm here." Plankton's antennae still, his body frozen. The plushie in his arms is a barricade against the world, a reminder of the comfort he craves. He looks at Hanna's hand. Hanna's eyes are filled with understanding, her hand still. "We're not going anywhere," she murmurs. "Take all the time you need." Plankton's antennae quiver, his body still tense. The plushie is a fortress against the chaos, but Hanna's touch is an unfamiliar presence, a threat to his carefully constructed world. He looks at Karen, his gaze pleading. Karen's eyes are filled with comprehension. "It's okay, sweetheart," she says, her voice a gentle breeze. "Hanna's here to help." Plankton's gaze flickers between Karen and Hanna, his tiny body coiled tight. He's not used to sharing his space, not since the world turned into a cacophony of sensory assaults. Hanna's hand remains a question mark on his arm, her eyes filled with hope. "Please," she whispers, her voice a soft plea. "We're just trying to be friends." Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze flicking between Karen and Hanna. The room is too loud, too bright. His mind whirls with confusion, trying to navigate this new terrain of social interaction. He's used to Karen, her gentle voice and familiar scent. But Hanna is new. "Space," he whispers, his voice shaky. "Need space." Hanna's hand retracts, a silent apology. She nods, her eyes filled with sadness. "Okay," she says, her voice barely audible. Karen's gaze is filled with pride as she watches Hanna's understanding dawn. It's a slow process, but she's learning. "Thank you," she murmurs. Hanna nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's tense form. "It's okay," she whispers. "I'll give you space." She moves to the other side of the room, leaving a wide berth between them. Plankton's antennae twitch less frequently, his body slowly uncoiling.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 22 (𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ. sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ The science fair is a cacophony of noise and color. Each project vying for attention, each child eager to show off their hard work. Chip's screen lights up with excitement. Plankton's antennae twitch nervously. The sensory overload threatens to swamp him, but he firmly holds onto Karen's hand. "Karen?" Karen turns and sees her friend Hanna. "Oh Hanna!" She exclaims. Hanna's eyes widen at the sight of Plankton. "Is this your family?" Karen nods. "We're here for our son Chip." Hanna's smile is warm, but Plankton's antennae bristle, his body stiff with tension. He's not used to socializing, especially not in a place like this, with its unpredictability. "Hi, I'm Karen's friend," Hanna says. Plankton flinches, his antennae waving frantically. "The name's Hanna. You must be Karen's husband, Plankton.." Hanna exclaims as she puts her hands on his shoulders. Plankton's body goes rigid. He's not used to touch, not like this. The pressure sends a shock wave through him. His eye widens in panic, but he forces a smile. "Nice to meet you," he says, his voice tight. He's masking, a technique he's honed over the years to navigate the world that doesn't quite fit him. The effort it takes to appear normal is exhausting, but for Chip, for his family, he'll try. He takes a deep breath, trying to regulate his racing heart. But Hanna's excitement won't abate. "Oh, I've heard so much about you!" Hanna says, her hands squeezing his shoulders. Plankton swallows hard, his antennae twitching with the need to flee. The sensory assault of her perfume, the touch, the sound of her voice, it's too much. But he can't leave, not here, not now. He smiles, a mask covering his panic. "Yeah, it's good to meet you too," he says, his voice strained. Yet Hanna is talkative and bubbly. "Your son's projects are always so amazing!" she gushes, her hand now on his arm. Plankton's antennae twitch, but he keeps his smile firmly in place. He's masking, a painful dance of pretending to fit in, his mind racing to keep up with the social cues. "Thanks, he's very smart," he forces out, hoping his voice doesn't give away the turmoil inside. "Look at all these wonderful things!" Hanna yells, turning to give Plankton's shoulder another squeeze. Plankton's body tenses, but his smile doesn't falter. He's wearing his mask today, the one he's perfected over the years. The one that lets him pretend he's okay, that he fits in this neurotypical world. The lights in the gym are too bright, the sounds too loud. His antennae are on high alert, his brain trying to filter the onslaught. Karen's hand in his is a lifeline, but even she can't dull the sensory overload. Yet he nods, he smiles, he makes polite small talk. He's a chameleon, blending in as best he can, for his family. For Chip, for Karen, he'll weather this storm as best he can. Hanna won't let up. "Oh guess what? I'm a trainer!" Her laughter is a siren to Plankton's sensitive hearing. "That's... amazing," he says, his voice strained. But Hanna doesn't notice. "Do you come here often?" Her question is a minefield Plankton tries to tiptoe around. "I, uh, I don't really come so no," he stammers. "I mean, it's not—" "Oh, you're so funny!" she interrupts, her hand on his arm again. The pressure sends shivers down his spine, but he keeps smiling, keeps pretending. "Heh, ye-" Her touch is a thunderstorm on his skin, but he keeps the mask in place. "What do you do?" Hanna asks, her eyes sparkling. "I'm a scientist," Plankton manages, his antennae vibrating with the need to retreat. "Wow, just like Chip!" Her enthusiasm is a hurricane, but he nods, his smile fixed. "Ye-yes, I guess so-" "Oh, you must be so proud!" Her hand is still on his arm, her grip tightening. The noise in the gym crescendos around him, each child's laughter a pinprick in his overwhelmed brain. "I, I am," he says, his voice strained. She leans in, too close for comfort. Plankton's heart races, his antennae quivering. He wants to scream, to pull his arm away, to retreat. "Look at Chip's project!" Hanna says, pulling him closer to a table covered in wires and circuits. The lights from the screen flicker over her face, casting an eerie glow. Plankton's eye darts around, searching for his son, for a familiar face. But Chip is engaged with his classmates, explaining his creation. He's missed the storm brewing in his father's posture. "Isn't it amazing?" Hanna asks, her hand squeezing his arm again. Plankton nods, his antennae twitching with the pressure. "It's... yes, it's very good," he says, his voice strained. Karen notices, her eyes full of concern. She knows his limits, the tightrope he walks between appearing sociable and the screaming need to retreat. But Hanna doesn't. "Oh!" Hanna exclaims. "You are SUCH a great dad to be so supportive!" Her hand lands on his shoulder, giving it a hearty pat. The suddenness of the touch sends a shock through Plankton's body. He flinches, his antennae waving in a silent cry for space. But Hanna doesn't know, and she's not quite done either. "You must be so proud of him!" Her hand moves to his back, patting it in what she assumes is a comforting gesture. But for Plankton, it burns. He tries to pull away, his body screaming for space, but her grip is firm, her energy unrelenting. The room spins, the lights grow brighter. His antennae quiver with the strain of holding on to his mask. "Thank you," he says, his voice a whisper of the storm inside. "He's... a good boy." Karen's hand squeezes his, a silent reassurance. The pressure of her touch is comforting, but it's not enough. The sensory assault continues, Hanna's unrelenting. He can't take it anymore. The mask is slipping, his smile fading, but Hanna is not. "You're such a great father," Hanna says, her hand now on his cheek. The suddenness of the touch sends a jolt of panic through him. His eye darts around the room, searching for escape. The lights flicker, the sounds meld into a cacophony. He's drowning in a sea of sensation, and Hanna is the storm's eye, unaware of the chaos she's causing. "And Plankton, I think you're just the sweetest!" she says, giving his cheek a squeeze. The room spins, his antennae a blur. Hanna's smile only widens. "Hey, don't be shy!" she laughs, cupping his chin to make him look at her. He needs space. But Hanna won't back down. The pressure builds, his mask threatening to shatter. He can't breathe, can't think. The room is too bright, the sounds too loud. Hanna's touch is a brand, searing into his skin. He tries to pull away, but his body won't cooperate. "I'm..." But Hanna interrupts him. "Oh, you're just adorable!" Her hand moves to his antennae. Plankton's heart races, his body a tight coil of panic. He tries to smile, but his mouth wobbles. "Hanna, I'm not—" He's going to break. His antennae quiver violently, his body screaming for mercy. The mask is slipping, his eye pleading with Karen. But she's engaged with another parent, oblivious to his distress. He tries to pull away, but Hanna's grip is unyielding. "Hanna," he whispers, his voice a thread of panic. "Please." But she doesn't hear him, doesn't see the pain in his eye. She's too caught up in her own excitement, the storm of her affection crashing down on him like a waterfall. He tries to step back, but his legs are like lead. The noise of the gym crescendos, each laugh a needle in his ear. The lights, the smells, the sensations, they're all too much. He needs to escape, to find his quiet place. But Hanna won't let him. Her hand moves to tickle his side. Her laugh makes him hold his head. But she keeps going, unaware of his pain. "Plankton you're so fun..." But Plankton's body betrays him, his stomach lurching. His hand shoots to his mouth, eye wide with horror. He can't. Then suddenly... He's sick. Right there, on the floor of the crowded gym. The smells, the sounds, the touch. It's all too much. He didn't mean to, but he has no control. His body heaves, and Hanna finally retreats her hands.

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

ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᶜᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 2 ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᵁˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵈʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ ᵏⁱᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿˢ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵒʳ 'ᵉᵐ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴼᵘ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴾᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃʳᵐ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃˢ ⁿᵉʷ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵃᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵘᵍ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˢᵏ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ‧" "ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ᵐʸ ᵃʳᵐ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ? ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵉᶜʰⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ?" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᴵ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ! ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧‧‧" To be cont. Pt. 3

https://bluezey.tumblr.com/post/179996126450/reason-one-why-we-should-humanize-girls-night-out#notes https://www.tumblr.com/jopajopovna1/635538087895842816/reason-one-why-we-should-humanize-girls-night-out https://www.tumblr.com/asoingbop/648843739321761792/reason-one-why-we-should-humanize-girls-night-out https://www.tumblr.com/dreamystarcroc/650933638683344896/reason-one-why-we-should-humanize-girls-night-out

JUST A TOUCH v (Autistic author) Hanna's confusion is clear as she watches Karen crouch before Plankton, her hand hovering an inch from his shoulder. "Plankton, sweetie," Karen says, her voice a gentle coax. "It's just me." No indication from Plankton though. Hanna's eyes dart from Karen to Plankton and back, trying to piece together what has happened. "What's wrong with him?" she whispers. "He's just overwhelmed," Karen says, her voice tight with frustration. Hanna looks from Karen to Plankton, his body rigid. "What happened?" she asks again, her voice laced with concern. Karen sighs heavily, her eyes full of pain. "Plankton has Acquired Autism." The words hang in the air like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over the room. Hanna's face falls, her hand covering her mouth in shock. "Oh no," she murmurs, realizing her mistake. "I didn't know." Her eyes dart to Plankton, his body still frozen, his gaze vacant. "I'm so sorry." She says, reaching for him again as Karen's. Karen's hand shoots out, stopping her mid-air. "No, don't," she says firmly. "He's hypersensitive now. Sometimes touch can be... painful." Hanna's hand retreats, her eyes widening. "I didn't know," she whispers, her voice filled with regret. "I just wanted to be friendly." Karen's expression softens slightly. "It's okay," she says, her voice calming. "You couldn't have known." But Plankton remains still, his eye unblinking. "Plankton," Karen whispers, her hand reaching for his. He doesn't flinch this time, his body still as stone. She squeezes gently, hoping the familiar gesture will bring him back. "You're safe at home." Hanna watches, her heart heavy with guilt. She had no idea her enthusiasm could have such a profound effect on him. "What can I do?" she asks, her voice shaky. Karen looks up, her eyes tired. "Just give us some space," she says. "Let me... let me help him." Hanna nods, her own screen brimming with unshed tears. "Of course," she murmurs, backing away. Plankton remains frozen, his gaze locked on the floor. Karen wraps her arms around his shoulders. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers, her voice soothing. "You're safe here." She rubs his arm lightly, the way she's learned not to cause him discomfort. He doesn't move, but she can feel the tension slowly leaving his body. His antennae lift slightly. "You're okay," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle murmur. "Just breathe." Slowly, Plankton's body begins to relax, his antennae twitching as he takes in her words. Hanna watches from a distance. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice quieter. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to..." Her words trail off, but Karen simply nods, her eyes not leaving Plankton's. "It's okay," she repeats. "We're still learning." Hanna sits on the edge of the sofa, her eyes never leaving them. She feels like an intruder, a bull in a china shop. She had come to offer support, but instead, she'd triggered something deep within him. The room feels heavy with unspoken words. "I didn't mean to push him," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "I just didn't know." Karen's grip on Plankton tightens slightly, but she doesn't look up. "It's okay," she says again, her voice a lifeline in the quiet. "It's a lot to take in." Hanna nods, her screen filling with tears she quickly wipes away. "But I'll learn," she says, her determination clear. "I want to be a good friend to both of you." Plankton's antennae quiver, a faint glimmer of recognition flickering in his eye. Karen nods. "Thank you," she murmurs, her voice barely audible. Hanna watches as Karen's gentle touch seems to break through the barriers Plankton has erected. His body slowly unfurls from his rigid stance, his gaze shifting from the floor to meet Karen's. "It's okay," Karen repeats, her voice a balm. "Let's go to our room. You need to rest." Plankton nods slightly, allowing her to guide him away from the living room. Hanna watches them go, her heart aching for her friend. She knows she's overstayed her welcome, but she can't bear to leave without apologizing to Plankton. "I'll go," she says, her voice thick. Karen turns, her screen swimming with unshed tears. "Thank you, Hanna," she says, her voice hoarse. Hanna nods, her own eyes shimmering. "Call me if you need anything," she says, her voice thick with emotion. She stands, her legs feeling like jelly, and makes her way to the door, her heart heavy with the weight of what she's done. The moment the door clicks shut, Karen feels the tension in the room dissipate slightly. Plankton's body relaxes a fraction, his eye no longer staring blankly at the floor. She leads him to their bedroom, the familiar surroundings seeming to soothe his frazzled nerves. Once inside, she helps him into bed, the softness of the covers a stark contrast to the rigidness of his body. She pulls the curtains shut, dimming the lights to reduce the sensory stimulation. Plankton's antennae twitch, a sign of his relief. Karen sits beside him. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn't know she'd..." Plankton's gaze meets hers, his eye less intense now. "It's okay," he says, his voice monotone. "Just need... quiet." Karen nods, her hand still resting on his shoulder. "I'm here," she says. "I'm always here."

PLUSH ONE xviii (By NeuroFabulous) * ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅɪsᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ Karen's heart is a mix of pride and pain as she watches Hanna's retreat. Her voice is a soft lullaby. "You're doing well, Plankton," she says, her words a gentle caress. Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze on the plushie. "Doing well," he echoes, his voice a whispered refrain. It's a comfort to him, the repetition of her words, a familiar tune in a cacophony of sensory input. "Thank you," Karen says, her voice a soft melody. She knows his echolalia is a way for him to process, to find comfort in the predictable. Plankton nods, his antennae still. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice a mirror of hers. The echo of her words is a soothing balm, a reminder of their shared history. He turns his gaze back to the plushie, his voice a whisper. "You're doing well," he says, the words a comfort to himself as much as the toy. His antennae twitch, the fabric of the plush a familiar embrace against him. The room is still, the tension a palpable presence. Hanna watches from her distance, her eyes filled with curiosity. Plankton whispers to his plushie, his antennae twitching with each word. "You're doing well," he says, his voice a soft echo of Karen's. The plushie is a silent listener, absorbing his fears and worries. It's a comforting rhythm, a dance between his thoughts and the words he knows. Hanna watches from afar, her brow furrowed. The repeated phrases grate on her nerves, a steady drumbeat of sameness that she can't ignore. Her frustration builds, each echo a reminder of the barrier between them, a wall of words that don't quite fit. Plankton starts again. "Doing we–" "Stop it," Hanna says, her voice a sudden interruption. "Please, just stop repeating every thing." Her words are a knife in the silence, cutting through Plankton's comforting rhythm. He flinches, his antennae shooting up. "What?" he whispers, his voice filled with confusion. Hanna's eyes flash with frustration. "The repeating," she says, her voice tight. "It's just...it's driving me crazy!" Plankton's antennae flatten, his gaze shifting to her. He's not used to this, to someone interrupting his self-soothing. His voice is small. "What's wrong?" Hanna's eyes are filled with frustration, her hands gesturing wildly. "You keep saying the same thing!" she says, her voice a sharp contrast to his softness. Plankton's gaze is on his plushie, his voice small. "Same th-" Hanna cuts him off, her frustration palpable. "It's the same thing," she says, her voice a sharp contrast to his softness. "Why do you keep saying it? We're not babies, and your plushie can't understand!" Plankton's antennae droop, his gaze flickering to hers. "It's comfort," he whispers, his voice a shaky defense. "It's what he-" But Hanna's patience snaps. "I don't care about your stupid comfort!" she says, her voice sharp. "You're driving me crazy!" Her words are a slap, a harsh reminder of his difference. Plankton's antennae droop, his gaze shifting to the plushie. He clutches it tighter, his voice a tremble. "Comfort not stupid," he whispers. "It's how I underst--" But Hanna's frustration has overtaken her. "I get it!" she snaps. "You're just a baby with a security blanket!" The words hang in the air, a cruel accusation. Plankton's body tenses, his antennae drooping. "B-baby?" he stammers, his voice a whisper of pain. Karen's eyes are filled with sorrow as she watches Hanna's outburst, her heart aching for Plankton's hurt. "Hanna," she says, her voice a gentle reprimand. "That's not fair. It's how he processes," she says, her words a soft defense. Hanna's gaze snaps to hers, her eyes brimming with frustration. "How is this fair to us?" she demands, her voice a whip. "We can't al—" Karen's voice is a soft interruption. "Us?" she asks, her eyes filled with a gentle reproach. "Or you?" Hanna's eyes widen, her face a picture of guilt. "What?" she stammers, her voice a defensive rally. "I just—" But Plankton's antennae are already twitching, his gaze flickering between the plushie and Hanna. The words have hit their mark, a sharp pain that pierces through his comfort. "No," he whispers, his voice a soft rebuttal. "Not baby?" Hanna's face is a mask of frustration, her eyes flashing. "Then what?" she demands, her voice loud in the quiet room. Plankton's antennae quiver, his body tight with tension, his mind reeling with confusion. "I-I'm not a baby," he whispers, his voice shaky. "It's just how I t-" But Hanna's frustration is a wave crashing over him. "I know," she says, cutting him off. "But we can't keep doing this! It's driving me crazy!" Her eyes are wild, her gestures large and erratic. "How do you think Karen feels when you just repeat everything she says? Don't you think she deserves better?" Plankton's antennae droop, his body shrinking. "Better?" he whispers, his voice a question. "What's better?" Hanna's eyes are a storm of emotions, her frustration spilling over. "You know," she says, her voice tight. "Someone who can actually contribute, not just sit there and mumble to a plushie all day, who needs us to cater to his every whim or he'll have another meltdown! Like a...like something unwanted that just needs to be put out of its misery, just to make everyone else's lives easier without keeping him in it! Even if it means ending his suffering by...by..." Her voice trails off, her eyes filling with horror at the thought she's just voiced. Plankton's antennae are motionless, his gaze on the plushie. The room feels too large, too loud, the echo of Hanna's words reverberating in his skull. "Unwanted," he whispers, his voice a soft echo. "Unaliving?" Karen's heart breaks at his pain, her eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "Hanna," she says, her voice a sharp reprimand. "That's enough." Hanna's eyes are wide with shock at her own words, her cheeks flushed. "I didn't mean... I just... I'm sorr-" But Plankton's gaze is on his plushie, his voice a whisper. "Unwanted," he says, his antennae quivering. "Am I?" The room is a vacuum of silence, Hanna's words echoing in their minds. Karen's eyes are filled with horror at the thought that has entered their conversation, the dark fear that Plankton might internalize. Hanna's hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide with regret. "No," she whispers, shaking her head. "I didn't mean it li-" But Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze on the plushie. "Karen?" he whispers, his voice filled with fear. Her heart breaks at his plea. She moves closer, kneeling by his side. "You're not unwanted, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "You're lo…" But he's not listening, his antennae twitching in a flurry of fear. "Life," he whispers, his voice a tiny thread of terror. "Don't take me away." Karen's eyes widen with understanding. His autism has made him hyper-sensitive to the emotions in the room, picking up on Hanna's frustration and turning it into a monstrous fear. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "You're safe. We–" But Plankton's antennae are a blur of panic, his gaze on his plushie. "Wanting to make unalive," he whispers, his voice shaky. "I heard it." Hanna's eyes are wide with disbelief, her voice a desperate plea. "Plankton, no," she says, her voice a soft apology as she reaches out to touch him. "I didn't mean tha-" But Plankton's antennae are already retreating, his body shrinking away from her touch. "Don't," he whispers, his voice a tremble of fear. "Don't take me." Hanna's hand freezes, her eyes filled with horror at the thought she's instilled in him. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice a desperate apology. "I didn't mean it." Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze never leaving hers. "Karen," he whispers, his voice a plea. "Am I gonna..." But Karen's touch is swift, intercepting Hanna's hand. "No," she says firmly, her voice a shield of calm. "Nobody's going to hurt you, Plankton."

PLUSH ONE xii (By NeuroFabulous) He stumbles backward, his body a maelstrom of anger and confusion. "MINE!" he shouts again, his voice cracking with fear. Karen's eyes never leave his, her own fear a mirror to his distress. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a soothing lullaby. "Ca--" But her words are lost in the tempest of his rage. He lunges at her, the plushie a weapon in his tiny hands. Karen's instincts kick in, and she blocks the swing. "PLANKTON, STOP!" she shouts, her voice a commanding wave in the storm. But he's beyond reason, his autism a prison that locks him away. The plushie, once a source of comfort, is now a weapon of destruction. He swings it wildly, the fabric tearing under his frenzied grip. Karen dodges the flailing toy, her eyes never leaving his. "PLANKTON, PLEASE!" she shouts, her voice a desperate plea in the cacophony of his anger. But the tempest in his eye shows no sign of abating. With each swing of the plushie, Karen feels the weight of their shattered world. Her hand snatches the plushie from his grip, her movements swift and firm. He tries to grab it back, his body a wild flurry of limbs. "PLANKTON, NO!" she shouts, her voice a thunderclap. The room seems to hold its breath, the only sounds the echoes of their struggle. But Plankton's autism doesn't hear her words, doesn't feel the desperation in her touch. He wriggles in her grasp, his antennae snapping like whips of fear. The plushie hangs limp in her hand, its stuffing spilling out. "PLANKTON, STOP!" Karen's voice echoes in the room, a desperate cry to the storm that's taken him. But his autism doesn't listen. It's a beast that consumes his every thought, leaving no room for the man she knows, the man she loves. He flails and shrieks, his eye wild with panic. Karen's grip tightens, her hands firm but gentle, her heart breaking with each tiny, futile struggle. She must find a way to soothe his fear, to quiet the storm in his mind. His antennae snap at the air, his body a blur of frantic motion. "PLANKTON, STOP!" she shouts, but the words are lost in his autistic rage. She holds him at arm's length, his tiny fists clenched around the ruined plushie. Karen's mind is a frenzied symphony, her mind racing for a way to soothe his distress. With trembling hands, she cups his face, her thumbs pressing gently on his cheeks. "Look at me—" But Plankton's autism interprets her touch as an assault, his body a live wire of fear. He bites down on the plushie, his eye wide with terror. With a tremble, she releases his face. Then Hanna jumps in, unable to stand and watch any longer. "PLANKTON!" Hanna shouts, as she pins him to the wall, her hands too strong for his tiny frame. "WILL YOU DO US A FAVOR AND JUST GET OUT OF OUR LIVES?" Hanna yells as she heaves him out of the bedroom, slamming the door closed on him. On the other side of the door Plankton's antennae droop. But Plankton is eerily quiet on the other side. Hanna holds the door shut despite the silence. Karen was surprised, as she expected him to knock hard on the door.

PLUSH ONE xiii (By NeuroFabulous) Hanna looks at Karen with concern. The silence is deafening, more terrifying than the screams and chaos that just filled the room. Karen's fixed on the closed door. "Is he okay?" Hanna whispers, her voice a soft tremor. Karen's eyes fill with tears, her mind racing. "I don't know," she says, her voice a thread of fear. The quiet is a stark contrast to the tempest that was Plankton's rage. They wait, the air thick with tension, the only sounds their rapid breaths. Hanna's grip on the door handle whitens her knuckles, her screen never leaving Karen's. "I'm sorry.." But Karen's eyes are glued to the door, her heart racing. The quiet from Plankton is more unnerving than his screams. It's as if the storm has passed, but left a silence that speaks of something worse. "Is he okay?" Karen whispers. The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for an answer that doesn't come. The quiet from Plankton is like a vacuum, sucking the air from the room. Karen's hand reaches for the doorknob, her fingers trembling. "Plankton?" she whispers. She opens the door slowly. In the hallway, Plankton sits on the floor, his body rigid, his antennae still. He's not moving, not blinking. Hanna gasps. Karen's hope drops. "Plankton?" she calls, her voice a soft whisper. But there's no response, no movement. He sits on the floor, his eye vacant, his body still. Hanna gasps. "What's wrong with him?" Karen's eyes widen with understanding. "It's an absence seizure," she murmurs, her voice tight. "His first one. He had an accident which left him with a disability, and the medics said such things might happen." Hanna's eyes are filled with concern. "What do we do?" she asks, her voice shaky. Karen's mind races. "We need to make sure he's safe," she says, her voice a firm whisper. She steps into the hallway, her eyes never leaving Plankton's still form. "Don't touch him," she adds. "Jostling will do more harm than good." Plankton's tiny body is a statue, his eye unblinking. "It's okay," she whispers, though she's not sure if he can hear her. The absence seizure is a new horror, and her hand is shaking as she reaches out. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft caress. "Come back to me." But his body remains still, his antennae unmoving. The sudden stillness, the vacant stare.. Karen crouches beside him, her hand hovering just above his shoulder. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a gentle breeze. He doesn't flinch, his body a statue, his mind adrift in the abyss of his seizure. Karen's eyes are wet with tears, her fear a palpable presence in the air. She knows she must wait it out, let the seizure run its course. But it's hard, so hard, to watch him like this, so vulnerable. Her hand hovers over his shoulder. "Come back to me," she whispers, her voice a soft prayer. But he doesn't stir. The seconds tick by, each one an eternity. Hanna watches, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and pity. "I'll go clean up the mess.." But Karen shakes her head. "No, stay with him," she whispers, her eyes never leaving Plankton's frozen form. "I'll be right back." Hanna nods, her eyes filled with uncertainty. But she does as she's told, crouching beside Plankton. "It's okay," she whispers, mimicking Karen's earlier soothing tone. Karen rushes, her mind racing. She needs something to help him, to bring him back. Her eyes scan the closets for anything that might comfort him. Her hand closes around a small pillow, the fabric soft and familiar. With trembling hands, she carries it to Plankton, his body still unmoving. Gently, she places a pillow behind him. His eye is still unseeing, but she manages to put another plush in his arms. "Look," she says, her voice soft, "it's a new plush." But Plankton doesn't move, his body a statue. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a thread of hope in the silence. With trembling hands, she gently tucks the plushie into his hands, hoping the familiar texture will bring him back. Plankton's body remains rigid, his eye unblinking. Karen takes one of his tiny hands in hers, her thumb tracing soothing circles on his palm. "You're okay," she whispers, her voice a soft lullaby in the silence. "It's just a seizure. It'll pass." But her words are met with only the sound of silence. "Come back to me," she murmurs, her voice a gentle caress. Plankton's body is a marble statue, cold and unyielding. The plushie in his arms is a sad reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. Hanna's eyes are glued to his frozen form, her breaths shallow. "What now?" she whispers. Karen's eyes are a pool of determination. "Now we wait," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "And when he's ready, we'll be here." They sit beside him, their bodies tense with worry. The hallway is a cocoon of silence, the only sounds their gentle breaths. Karen's thumb never stops moving, tracing circles on his palm. It's a lifeline, a silent promise that she won't leave. Moments later, Plankton's antennae twitched. His eye slowly focused. "Plankton?" Karen's voice was a hopeful whisper. His body unlocked from its frozen state, his antennae drooping. "What happened?" he murmured, his voice groggy. Karen's eyes fill with relief, her grip on his hand loosening. "You had a seizure," she explains, her voice gentle. "What do you last remember?" Plankton blinks, his eye unfocused. "The...the whirlwind as the door slam.." Karen's grip on his hand tightens. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a balm to his fear. "You had a bad moment, but it's over. It's getting late, and we all need some rest. I feel bad, Hanna, but we've the couch.." Hanna nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "It's okay, I'll take the couch," she says, her voice filled with a newfound gentleness. "Just make sure he's ok.." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye darting around the hallway. His gaze lands on the new plushie, and his body relaxes slightly. "Thanks," he whispers, his voice a soft rumble. Karen nods, her screen shimmering with unshed tears. "Let's get you to bed, okay?" Plankton's body is a sigh of relief as he lets her lead him. His autistic mind is a jumble of sensory input, but Karen's steady touch is a beacon of comfort. In the bedroom, she helps him into bed, the softness of the sheets a gentle contrast to the harshness of his day. "Do you need anything?" she asks, her voice a soft whisper. Plankton shakes his head, his antennas drooping. "Just...quiet," he murmurs, his voice a weak echo of his usual determined rasp. Karen nods, her heart aching for him. She tucks the new plushie beside him, its softness a stark contrast to the turmoil he's been through. "I love you," she promises, her voice soothing. His eye meets hers, a flicker of understanding passing between them. Despite his autism, his love for her is a beacon that pierces the fog of fear. He nods, his grip on her hand a silent thank you.

PLUSH ONE xiv (By NeuroFabulous) The next morning, Hanna wakes up and goes up to the bedroom where Karen's awake, yet Plankton's still asleep. She looks at him with a mix of pity and curiosity. "How is he?" Hanna whispers, her voice tentative. Karen's eyes are filled with fatigue. "Better," she murmurs. "He's sleeping it off." Hanna nods, her gaze falling to the plushie in Plankton's arms. "What was that?" she asks, her voice a soft wonder. Karen's sigh is a symphony of exhaustion. "It's called acquired autism," she explains. "Sometimes it overwhelms him, and he does things he doesn't mean to." Hanna's eyes are filled with questions. "Does he know..." Karen nods. "He's aware," she says, her voice a gentle caress. "But it's hard for him to control. We're still learning how to navigate." Hanna looks at Plankton's peaceful form, her eyes filled with empathy. "How did it happen?" Karen's eyes cloud with pain. "An accident," she says, her voice a whisper. "He hit his head and...it changed his brain structure." Hanna's eyes widen. "I didn't know," she whispers. "I'm sorry." Karen nods, her smile sad. "It's not your fault," she says. "We're all just doing our best to adjust." Plankton stirs, his eye blinking open. He looks up at them, his gaze filled with trepidation and confusion. "Hi, Plankton," Hanna says, her voice a soft melody in the early morning silence. He stares at her, his antennae quivering. "Do you remember what happened?" Plankton's eye darts around the room, the plushie a silent sentinel beside him. He nods, his voice a tiny echo. "Plankton, bad" he murmurs. Karen's heart squeezes with pain, her hand reaching out to stroke his antennae. "It's okay," she whispers. "You had a bad day, but today is new." Plankton's eye focuses on his plushie, his grip tightening. "It's okay," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle lullaby. He nods, his antennae still. "Tired," he murmurs. Karen nods, understanding the weight of his words. "Rest," she says, her voice a soft command. Plankton's body relaxes into the bed, his eye drifting closed. Hanna watches them, her heart aching with emotion. This isn't the Plankton she heard of, the villain with a heart of greed. This is a man lost in his own mind, navigating a world that no longer makes sense. Her eyes fill with tears as she sees the tender way Karen cares for him, her patience a stark contrast to the chaos of his autism. She knows she's been wrong, that there's more to him than the stories suggest. Hanna steps closer, her voice a gentle inquiry. "How can I help?" Karen's eyes meet hers, gratitude in their depths. "Just...just be patient," she whispers. "And kind." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye still on the plushie. Karen can see the fear lurking beneath the surface. "We'll get through this," she promises, her voice a soft melody of hope. He nods, his antennae still. "Sorry," he whispers, his voice a brittle shell. Karen's heart cracks, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. "You have nothing to apologize for," she says, her voice a warm embrace. Hanna watches the tender exchange, her own heart swelling with compassion. "What can we do to help?" she asks, her voice a gentle caress. Karen's eyes are filled with a quiet determination. "We need to find a way to make his world better," she says. "Less overwhelming." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "What does he like?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen's smile is a sad memory. "Routine," she says. "Predictability. And now plushies. They're...important." Hanna nods, her eyes studying Plankton's sleepy face. They sit in silence, each lost in thought. The morning sun peeks through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. In the quiet, the weight of the new reality sinks in; Plankton's autism is a journey none of them had expected. His mind, once a whirlwind of cunning and schemes, now operates with a different rhythm, a pattern of sensory needs.

PLUSH ONE xv (By NeuroFabulous) Hanna's eyes are glued to Plankton's peaceful form, aching for the fear and confusion she's seen in his eye. "What can we do for him?" she asks, her voice a gentle prodding. Karen looks up. "We need to adapt his environment," she says, her voice a soft determination. "Reduce the sensory input, establish comforts." Hanna nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "What kind of comforts?" she asks, curiosity piqued. "Oh, like the plushie? What's the plush..." Karen's voice trails off as she considers Hanna's question. "Well, yes," she says, her voice a soft explanation. "But it's more than that. It's about creating a space that's safe for him, that doesn't overstimulate his senses." Hanna nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "How do we do that?" she asks, her curiosity genuine. "We start by understanding his triggers," Karen says, her gaze thoughtful. "The noise, the lights, the...chaos." Hanna nods, her mind racing. "And the plushies?" she prompts, her voice a soft probe. Karen's smiling. "They're... I guess comfort objects," she explains. "For someone with autism, such items can be a lifeline." Hanna nods, her curiosity piqued. "But why a plushie?" she asks, her voice a soft wonder. Karen looks at Plankton, his body curled around the fluffy toy. "It's about softness, and predictability," she says, her voice a gentle explanation. "Plushies have a certain...comfort to them. They're consistent, familiar. And when his world is too much, it's something he can hold onto, something that won't change." Hanna nods slowly, her gaze still on the plushie. "So, it's like a...security blanket?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen nods. "Exactly," she says, her voice filled with understanding. "But for his autism, it's even more. It's a constant in a world that ca--" But Plankton's eye snaps open, his antennae shooting up. "Karen," he whispers, his voice filled with panic. She quickly turns to him, her hand ready to offer comfort. "What is it?" He points at Hanna, his fear palpable. "Hanna," he stammers. "Hanna new. Too loud. Hanna hurt. Hanna made everything go...spinny." Hanna's eyes fill with tears, her hand reaching out to him. "I'm so—" But Plankton flinches, his body coiling away from Hanna's touch. Hanna's hand stops mid-air, her eyes wide with surprise. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers, her voice gentle. "I'm not going t---" But he's already retreated to the corner of the room, his tiny body shaking. "No touch," he murmurs, his antennae quivering. "No loud." Karen's heart clenches. "I know," she says, her voice a gentle coax. "But Hanna is our friend, she's just trying to he-" But Plankton's panic interrupts her. "Friend?" he whispers, his voice filled with doubt. "No. Everything changed. Hanna not good." Karen's eyes are filled with pain, her heart breaking for him. "I know it's scary," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "But Ha—" "NO!" Plankton screams, his body convulsing with fear. "No Hanna!" Hanna jumps back, her eyes wide with shock. Her hand had hovered over his plushie, intending to give it a comforting pat before reaching out to give it to him. But for Plankton, that's crossing a line. "No touch," he whispers, his antennae quivering with anxiety. "MINE." Hanna's eyes widen, the plushie still in her hand. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice a soft apology. Her heart aches for him, his fear a stark reminder of the distance between them now. She holds the plushie out to him, her hand shaking. "It's yours," she says, her voice a gentle offer. But Plankton's panic doesn't abate. His eye is a storm of confusion and fear. "MINE," he whispers, his antennae vibrating with tension. Hanna's hand hovers motionless, the plushie dangling between them. She looks to Karen for guidance, her eyes filled with worry. Karen's eyes are understood, her voice a soothing lullaby. "It's okay, Plankton," she coos. "Hanna just wanted to give it back." Slowly, she steps towards the trembling figure of Plankton, her movements careful not to startle him. But Plankton's gaze is fixed on Hanna, his antennae quivering with distress. "No," he murmurs, his voice a soft protest. "MINE." Hanna's eyes are filled with confusion as she looks at the plushie in her hand. She had only wanted to help, to comfort her newfound friend. But now she feels like an intruder in his world. Karen steps closer, her movements deliberately slow. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers. "Hanna means no ha-" But Plankton's fear has turned to anger, his tiny fists balled up. "MINE!" he screams at Hanna, his voice sharp. Her hand jerks back, the plushie dropping to the floor. "I didn't mean to..." Her words are drowned out by Plankton's cries. Karen's heart aches as she watches Hanna's hurt expression. "It's okay," she says, her voice a soft caress. "We're all just trying to fi-" But Plankton's screams cut her off. His fear has escalated into rage, his tiny fists pounding the floor. "MINE!" he shouts, his voice furious. Hanna's eyes are wide with shock, her hand still hovering above the plushie. She didn't mean to take it, didn't mean to cause such distress. But Plankton's reaction is instinctive, primal. "HANNA GIVE BACK!" he shouts, his tiny body quaking with fear. Hanna's eyes are filled with sorrow as she drops to her knees, setting the plushie on the floor. "Here," she says, her voice a soft plea. "It's yo-" But Plankton's rage won't abate. He stares at the plushie, his breaths shallow. Karen moves closer, her eyes filled with pain. "Plankton, it's okay," she whispers, her voice a gentle caress. "You can have it." Slowly, Hanna retreats, her eyes on the floor. Karen's gaze follows hers, seeing the plushie lying there, a symbol of their misunderstanding. "It's okay," she repeats, her voice a soft promise. Plankton's anger subsides as he watches Karen's approach. He recognizes her comforting strides, her calming presence. Her hand extends towards his plushie, a silent offer to bridge the gap. He looks at her, his eye narrowing. But the fear is still there, the memory of the plushie's theft fresh. His antennae quiver, his body tense. Karen's hand hovers over the plushie, her movements slow and deliberate. "It's okay," she whispers. "You can have it back." Plankton's gaze flickers between the plushie and Hanna's retreating form. He reaches out tentatively, his hand trembling. As he touches the soft plush, his body relaxes, the fear ebbing away. The plushie is a talisman of comfort, a silent sentinel in his autistic world. He clutches it to his chest, his eye closed in relief.

PLUSH ONE xvi (By NeuroFabulous) Karen's eyes are a pool of understanding as she watches him, her heart aching for his pain. She knows the plushie is more than just a toy; it's a piece of his sanity in a world that's turned too loud, too bright. She moves closer, her hand hovering near his.. Plankton's antennae shoot up, his body stiffening. "No," he whispers, his voice a shaky plea. "No touch." Karen nods, her movements slow and careful. She understands his boundaries, his new sensory needs. "Okay," she says, her voice a soft promise. "I won't touch. But can I sit with you?" Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye still closed. He takes a deep breath, his tiny chest rising and falling with the effort. "Okay," he murmurs. So Karen sits down beside his shaky form. Hanna watches from the doorway, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. The plushie in his hands is a lifeline, a reminder that amidst the storm of sensory input, there is something that doesn't change, that won't hurt him. Karen's presence is another constant, a beacon of comfort. But Hanna is a variable, an unknown. Her eyes are filled with sadness, a testament to the gap that's formed between them. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice a soft apology. "I didn't me—" But Plankton interrupts. "MINE," he cries out, his antennae quivering with the intensity of his emotions. Karen's heart breaks for him. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a gentle reminder of their bond. "It's your plushie." Plankton's grip tightens around the plush, his body a coil of tension. Hanna stands there, hands trembling. "I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice a soft apology in the quiet room. "I didn't kn-" But Plankton's eye opens, his gaze sharp and focused. "MINE," he says again, his voice a fierce declaration. Karen's eyes are filled with pain, her hand dropping to her side. "I know," she says, her voice a gentle coax. "But Hanna meant no harm." Hanna nods, her gaze still on the plushie. "I---" But Plankton's panic interrupts her, his voice high-pitched. "No Hanna," he whispers, his antennae quivering as he shakes his head. "No take." Hanna's eyes fill with sorrow as she backs away, her hand dropping to her side. Karen's heart clenches, seeing the hurt in Hanna's eyes. "It's okay," she murmurs, her voice a gentle coax. "We just need to give Plankton some space." Hanna nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "I understand," she whispers, her voice a soft apology. "But what abou–" But Plankton's panic doesn't abate, his body constricting even further. "No," he murmurs. "No more." Hanna's eyes are filled with a mix of pity and frustration. She's tired of his outbursts, of the way his autism controls their lives. Her voice cracks. "What do you want from me!" she asks, her voice a soft cry of exasperation. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye darting around the room. He's lost in a sensory maelstrom, unable to understand her words. "Quiet," he whispers, his voice a plea. "Everything too mu-" But Hanna's frustration has reached a boiling point. "I've tried!" she says, her voice a sharp retort. "Everything's always about you and your plushies, when all we want is to he-" Her words are cut off by Plankton's wail, his body trembling. Karen's heart clenches, her eyes filled with pain. "Hanna," she says, her voice a soft admonition. "He can't help it." But Hanna's frustration spills over. "I kn-" But Plankton's wail cuts through the room, his antennae vibrating. The plushie clutched to his chest is a silent cry for help. Hanna's eyes fill with tears as she watches, her frustration boiling over. "Why can't you just...be normal!" she asks, her voice a desperate plea. Karen's gaze snaps to her, her eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "What do you mean by 'normal'?" she asks, her voice a soft challenge. "Plankton is who he is. His autism is part of him, not something to 'fix'." Hanna's shoulders slump, her eyes welling up with tears. "I know," she murmurs, her voice a soft apology. "I just...I miss the old Plankton you've told me about." Karen's gaze is filled with compassion. "We all do," she says. "But he's still in there, just...different now." Hanna nods, her eyes still on Plankton's trembling form. "I know," she murmurs. "I just... I don't know how to help." Karen's smile is sad, her eyes filled with understanding. "You're already helping," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "Just by being here, by caring." Hanna looks down, her eyes misty. "But it's not enough," she whispers, gesturing to Plankton. Karen's eyes are filled with empathy. "It's a new journey," she says, her voice a soft reminder. "For all of us." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. She can see the fear and confusion in his eye, the way his antennae quiver. It's a stark contrast to the Plankton she's heard of, the one with a sharp mind and a love for Krabby Patties. Karen's voice is a gentle guidance. "We need to learn his new language," she says. "Find a way to reach him without crossing his lines." Hanna nods, her eyes still on Plankton's shaking body. "How do we do that?" she asks, her voice a soft curiosity. Karen's eyes are filled with knowledge. "It's about patience," she says. "And learning his cues." Hanna nods. "What do you mean?" Karen's eyes are filled with compassion as she explains. "His autism has changed his communication," she says, her voice a soft explanation. "It's not just words anymore; it's gestures, sounds, and expressions." Hanna's gaze flickers to Plankton's shaking antennae, his eye squeezed shut. "So, what do we do?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen's hand is a soft touch on Hanna's arm. "We watch," she whispers. "We learn."

PLUSH ONE xix (By NeuroFabulous) Karen's eyes are on Hanna, a silent reprimand. Hanna's hand drops to her side, her screen filled with regret. "Plankton, I'm ju—" But it's too late. Plankton's body is wracked with sobs, his antennae thrashing as his fear overwhelms him. The plushie falls to the floor, abandoned in his desperate attempt to escape the horror Hanna's words have conjured. Karen's arms reach out to him. "No, no, no," she whispers. "You're safe, Plankton. Yo--" But his body is a wild storm of fear, his sobs escalating into convulsions. His antennae whip around, striking the air in a silent scream of terror. Karen's heart shatters as she watches, her own hands hovering, unsure how to comfort him without causing more harm. Hanna's eyes are wide with horror, her own sobs joining the cacophony. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice a desperate apology. "I di-" But Plankton's fear is a storm, his antennae a blur of panic. "Karen, make it stop," he cries, his voice a desperate plea. "Make it STOP͏!" The room seems to spin around him, his senses assaulted by Hanna's regret and his own fear. The plushie is forgotten, a discarded comfort in the face of the horror. Karen's gentle voice is a lifeline, a soft whisper in the chaos. "You're safe," she says, her voice a promise. "You're with me—" But Plankton's sobs only grow louder, his convulsions more pronounced. His tiny body is a crumpled mess on the floor, his autism a cage of panic he can't escape. "Make it stop," he cries, his voice a desperate wail. "Please, make it stop!" Hanna's eyes are filled with determination as she retrieves the plushie, carefully bringing it back to his trembling form. "Here," she whispers. "I---" But Plankton is a maelstrom, his body twitching beyond control. His eye rolls back in his head. Karen's heart races as she watches him seize, her mind racing. Her hands hover over him, knowing not to touch. Hanna's eyes are wide, tears streaming down her cheeks. "What's happening?" she sobs, her voice shaking. Karen's eyes are filled with fear as she watches his tiny body convulse, his sobs turning to silent screams. "It's a seizure," she whispers, her voice tight. Hanna's eyes widen, her hand dropping the plushie as if it's a live wire. "What do we do?" she asks, her voice high-pitched with panic. Karen's gaze is focused on Plankton's convulsing body. "Don't touch him," she says, her voice a command. "Just stay calm." She moves swiftly, getting a pillow and placing it under his head. Hanna's eyes are glued to his twitching form, her breath coming in gasps. "Is he going to be okay?" she whispers, her voice trembling. "Do we need to call..." But Karen's eyes are on Plankton, her movements swift and sure. "No," she murmurs, her voice a soft command. "It's overstimulation. We have to calm him down. It's part of his disability. An ambulance will just make it worse, by adding more noise and claustrophobia. Hospitalization will create unnecessary trauma." Hanna's eyes are wide with terror, her hands shaking as she watches Plankton's convulsions. "But he-" Karen's voice cuts through the chaos. "Trust me," she says, her gaze unwavering. "We need to calm him, not add more stress." Hanna nods, her eyes locked on Plankton's distress. "What do we do?" Karen's voice is calm. "Find a favorite blanket," she says, her eyes never leaving his twitching form. "And dim the lights, reduce the noise." Hanna's legs are a blur as she rushes to comply, grabbing the softest blanket. Her hands shake as she gently drapes it over him, his convulsions jolting against the fabric. Hanna's eyes are wide with panic as she watches, her voice a whisper. "Is he going to be okay?" Karen's gaze is unwavering on Plankton, her voice steady. "We need to stay calm," she says, her hands a gentle guide. "It's his autism, it's how he can react to stress." Hanna's eyes are on the floor, her breath shallow. "I'm sorry," she whispers, the weight of her words heavy. "I didn't kn-" But Karen's voice is steady. "It's okay," she says, her voice a calm reminder. "We're here." Her eyes are on Plankton, her body a wall of protection. "Let's help him." Together, they work to soothe him, Hanna's hands shaking as she follows Karen's calm instructions. They dim the lights, reduce the noise, and cover him in the warm embrace of his favorite blanket. Hanna gets the plushie and goes up to him. Plankton's body jerks under the blanket, his antennae still a blur of fear. Karen strokes his head gently, her eyes filled with a fierce determination to keep him safe. "Hey," Hanna says, holding out the plushie. "Do you want this?" Her voice is tentative. "Plankton, can you tell me w---" But Plankton's eye is squeezed shut, his body a writhing mess of limbs. The seizure is a silent scream, a desperate protest. Hanna's hand shakes as she holds out the plushie, her words a plea. "Plankton, it's okay," she whispers, her voice trembling. "You're not unwanted." Plankton's body continues to convulse, his antennae a blur of panic. Karen then turns to Hanna. "You need to let him breathe," Karen says, her voice a soft command. "We can only help him by letting his body do its thing. If you talk, make sure it's quiet and calm, short and sweet, and be truthful with your reassurances. Do not force anything on him." Hanna nods, tears streaming down her screen, her voice a whisper. "Okay." She watches as Karen's gentle touch soothes Plankton, his seizure beginning to subside as she rubs his back in slow, even strokes. The plushie is placed near his hand, a silent offer of comfort. The seizure gradually loosens its grip on Plankton's body, his sobs subsiding into hiccups. Plankton's eye finds Karen's, a silent plea for reassurance. Her voice is a soft caress. "It's okay," Karen whispers. "You're okay." Plankton's antennae twitch, his body slowly calming. He clutches the plushie, his eye on Karen. "Home," he whispers, his voice a desperate plea. "Yes," Karen says. "We're home, in our bedroom." Plankton's antennae still, his gaze searching for the familiar. Hanna backs away, her eyes filled with regret. Karen notices and nods slightly, a silent acknowledgment of Hanna's apology. His body relaxes further, his breathing slowing. The plushie is a warm comfort, but it's Karen's voice that holds his world together. "You're safe, Plankton," she whispers. "You're home." Hanna watches from her distance, her eyes filled with regret. Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze shifting to Hanna. Her eyes are filled with remorse, a silent apology that he can't quite decode. His mind is a jumble of fears and questions. "Hanna," he whispers, his voice a tremble. "I-I'm not a b-b-baby? Plankton stays living..." Hanna's face crumples, her sobs joining his. "Oh, Plankton," she whispers. "You're not a baby, you're Plankton. And you're not unwanted. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it." Karen's eyes are filled with compassion as she looks at Hanna, knowing the depth of her regret. "It's okay," she says softly. "It's new for all of us." She turns back to Plankton, her voice a gentle whisper. "You're safe here. We're all learning." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye focusing on Hanna's shaking form. His voice is a question. "Hanna?" Her voice cracks as she whispers back, "I'm here." Her hand reaches out tentatively, still afraid to touch him. "I'm so sorry for what I said." Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze flickering to her hand. "It's okay," he murmurs, his voice a shaky echo. "But...but it's not okay," he adds, his eye filling with confusion. Hanna's hand hovers, uncertain. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice a tremulous thread. Plankton's gaze is on the plushie, his voice a whispered confession. "I'm not the same," he says, his words a soft acknowledgment. "I'm...different." Hanna's hand stops, her eyes filled with understanding. "You're still Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "You're still the same person, yet you've some new aspects.." Plankton's antennae still, his eye searching hers. "Different," he whispers, his voice filled with the weight of his new reality. Hanna nods, her hand still outstretched. "But that doesn't make you less important," she says, her voice a soft promise. "Or less loved." Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze flickering between his plushie and Hanna's hand. He reaches out slowly, his hand trembling, and takes her hand, holding it for a moment before he takes his hand back. Hanna's eyes are wet with relief, her voice a whisper. "Thank you," she says. Plankton's antennae twitch in acknowledgment, his gaze still on the plushie. "It's...it's just...I'm still me," he says, his voice shaky. "But, things are... different, now." Hanna nods, her eyes filled with a newfound understanding. "I know," she whispers. Her hand moves towards him again, this time with more confidence. Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze shifting from the plushie to Hanna's hand. "I know," Hanna says, her voice a gentle whisper. "But you're still Plankton, and we're here for you." Her hand moves closer, a silent offer of friendship. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye flickering to her hand, then back to the plushie. "Home," he whispers again, his voice a tremble. Hanna nods, her eyes filled with a newfound respect for the complexity of his needs. "Home," she repeats, her voice a gentle echo. "You're home with your wife Karen. Would you like to hold my hand?" Plankton's antennae still, his gaze shifting to Karen. She nods, her eyes filled with a silent understanding. He reaches out tentatively, his tiny hand grasping Hanna's finger briefly before retreating. It's a small gesture, but it's a start. Hanna's eyes widen with hope, her voice a whisper. "Thank you," she says, her hand hovering in the air.

PLUSH ONE xx (By NeuroFabulous) Plankton's antennae twitch in a way that seems almost thoughtful. "Hanna," he says, his voice tentative. "Hanna, Karen's friend, Karen's friend's okay." Her eyes fill with hope at his words, her hand still hovering. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice a gentle breeze. "May I sit with you, or..." But Plankton's gaze is fixed on the plushie. "Not close," he murmurs, his voice a soft refusal. "Some space, if Hanna sit with space." Hanna nods, her heart racing as she moves to the floor near him, maintaining a respectful distance. Karen's eyes never leave his, her voice a soft guide. "Good job, Plankton," she whispers. "You're doing so well." He starts to rock slightly, in a pattern that seems almost rhythmic. It's a new behavior, one Karen recognizes as stimming. She's heard about it, how it can mean those with autism self-soothe and process the world around them. His eye is fixed on the plushie, his hand moving on it in small, repetitive motions. Hanna watches Plankton's soft rocking with a mix of fascination and fear. "What's happening?" she asks, her voice barely above a murmur. "It's called stimming," Karen whispers, her voice a gentle explanation. "It's how he's processing everything right now. It's like his brain's way of saying, 'I'm okay, I can handle this.'" Hanna's eyes are wide with interest as she watches, her fear slowly giving way to curiosity. "Is it...good?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's rhythmic motion. "It's a way for his brain to calm down," she whispers. "It's like a security blanket for his nervous system." Hanna's gaze is still on him, her curiosity overcoming her fear. "Can I do anything?" she asks, her voice a soft offer of help. Karen nods. "You can talk to him, keep it calm and soothing." Her eyes meet Hanna's, her expression filled with compassion. "Use simple words, and let him know you're here." Hanna's voice is soft. "Plankton," she says, her tone gentle. "It's okay to rock, it's okay to feel better." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye flicking towards her briefly before returning to his plushie. The rocking continues, a gentle sway that seems to calm the storm of his thoughts. "You're safe, Plankton," Hanna whispers, her voice a soothing lullaby. "We're right here." His antennae twitch, his rocking slowing as he takes in her words. His hand still strokes the plushie, his body slowly calming. Hanna watches, her voice a soft echo. "Plankton, I'm sorry," she says, her eyes filled with sincerity. "I didn't understand." Plankton's antennae twitch, his rocking pausing. He looks at her, his gaze uncertain. Plankton's eye blinks slowly, his antennae still. "Hanna talk quiet," he whispers. "It's okay." Her voice is gentle. "I will, I'm sorry," she promises, her eyes never leaving his. Karen watches with a mix of pride and fear, her heart swelling at Hanna's effort to understand. She nods encouragingly, her eyes telling Hanna to keep it up. "Good job, Plankton," Hanna whispers, mimicking Karen's calm tone. "You're doing so well." She takes a deep breath, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze steady on him. "Is there anything you'd like? Something that would make you feel more comfortable? Or w---" "Too much," he murmurs, his voice a whispered plea. "Questions, too much. Not fast, only each at a time." Hanna nods, her heart racing. "Okay," she says, her voice gentle. "What can I do with you right now?" Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze on the plushie. "Reading?" he asks, his voice a whispered hope. "Book makes good feeling." Hanna's eyes light up, relieved to have a task. "Of course," she says, her voice a soft promise. She moves to the bookshelf, her eyes scanning the titles. "Which one, Plankton?" Plankton's antennae twitch, his voice a soft whisper. "The physics one," he says, his gaze still on the plushie. Hanna's eyes find the book, a faded blue spine among the colorful array. Her eyes widen with surprise, but she doesn't question it. Instead, she opens the book to the first page, her voice a calm narration. "Alright," she says, her tone soothing. "Let's start with the intro..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with impatience. "No, no," he whispers, his voice urgent. "Index. Index is good." Hanna's brow furrows, but she nods, understanding. She opens the book to the back, her eyes scanning the pages. "Index," she repeats, her voice a soft question. Plankton's antennae still, his gaze on her. "Yes," he whispers, his voice a sigh of relief. "Words, titles with their page numbers." Hanna nods, her eyes scanning the dense pages of the index. "Here," she says, her voice a soft guidance. "Let's look at the list of topics together." Plankton's antennae quiver with anticipation, his gaze flicking from Hanna to the book and back again. "Good," he whispers. "Good, good, good." Hanna's eyes scan the index, her voice calm and measured as she reads off the headings. "Wave particles," she says, her voice a gentle melody. "Quantum mechanics, gravity, light refraction..." "No; bad Hanna. Include page numbers!" He interrupts her. Her eyes widen slightly, but she nods, her voice calm. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her finger tracing the words. "Let's start again." She reads out the first entry, her voice a soft lullaby. "Wave particles, pages 47-52." Plankton's antennas twitch with interest, his eye darting to the book. "Is that okay?" she asks, her eyes searching his for approval. He nods eagerly. "Good," she says, her voice a gentle affirmation. "Wave particles, pages 47-52." She continues, her finger gliding over the small print. "Quantum mechanics, pages 104-130." Plankton's antennae dance with excitement, his eye locked on her movements. "More," he whispers, his voice a plea for knowledge. Hanna's voice is a steady rhythm as she reads through the index. "Electromagnetism, pages 173-208," she says, her voice a gentle guide. Plankton's rocking swayed in time with her words, his body still, his breathing even. He's found comfort in the orderly list, the predictability of each topic and its corresponding pages. It's a small victory, but in the quiet aftermath of his seizure, it feels like a monumental one. Hanna's voice is a soft steady beat, her eyes never leaving his. "Gravity, pages 243-270," she reads, each entry a stepping stone back to the person he knows himself to be. Plankton's eye flutters closed, the rocking slowing down. His breathing evens out. "Good," he murmurs, his voice quiet. "Good, good." Hanna reads on. "Relativity, pages 315-360," she whispers, as she can feel his tension ease with each page number she says. "Dark matter," she continues, "pages 402-430." His antennae twitch in agreement, his body relaxing further into the comfort of the blanket. He leans closer to Hanna. "Good," he whispers, his voice a soft echo. "More." Hanna nods, her eyes flickering between the index and Plankton. "Supernovae," she says, her voice a gentle guide. "Pages 512-540." Plankton relaxes even further. His antennae twitch, his eye half-closed. "Good," he whispers. "Good book." Her voice is a soft narration, her finger tracing the words. "Quantum entanglement, pages 623-650." Plankton's body relaxes fully, the plushie still a warm comfort in his hand as his head tilts to Hanna's shoulder. Her voice is a gentle whisper. "Time dilation, pages 701-730." Plankton's antennae still, his breathing now deepening into sleep. Hanna keeps reading. "Particle physics, pages 801-830," she continues. Karen watches from the doorway, her heart swelling with love. This is the Plankton she knows, the one who finds comfort in the ordered chaos of the universe. She smiles at Hanna, her eyes filled with a quiet pride. Hanna continues. "String th-" But she's cut off by a soft snore from Plankton's relaxed form. His antennae are still, his grip on the plushie loose. She looks up, her eyes meeting Karen's. Surprise fills her gaze. "Is he...asleep?" she asks, her voice a whisper. Karen nods, a small smile touching her lips. "Looks like it," she whispers. "Good job, Hanna." Hanna's heart races, his head heavy on her shoulder. Plankton's sleep is deep, his body a testament to the peace he's found in the comfort of the book and their calm voices. Karen approaches them, her movements slow and deliberate, not wanting to disturb him. Hanna looks up, her eyes questioning. "What do we do now?" she whispers, her voice a soft concern, his tiny hand loosely clutching the plushie. "We need to get him to bed," Karen says, her voice a gentle command. "But we have to be careful not to wake him." Hanna nods, her movements mirroring Karen's calmness. They stand slowly, their eyes on Plankton's peaceful face. "Ready?" Karen whispers, and together, they lift him by his blanket-cocooned form, his head resting on Hanna's shoulder. They move as one, a silent ballet of care and precision. Each step is calculated, each shift of weight measured. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly in his sleep, but he remains oblivious to the world around him, even when the plushie falls out of his grasp. Hanna gasps. "Got it," she whispers. Karen nods, a silent thanks. They continue the delicate transfer, the plushie tucked between his body and the softness of the blanket. They lay him down, the plushie nestled under his arm, his body still relaxed in sleep. Hanna helps tuck him in, her movements careful not to disturb the fragile peace. Karen nods, her eyes on Plankton's sleeping form. "Good," she whispers. "Just like that." His antennae twitch slightly, a soft snore escaping him. Hanna's hands are steady as she slides the plushie under his arm, her movements gentle and precise. They stand back, their breaths held, watching as Plankton's chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. Karen's hand reaches out to Hanna's, a silent gesture of solidarity. They've managed this together, his peace a testament to their unity.

PLUSH ONE x (By NeuroFabulous) Plankton's sleep is deep, his body at rest, but starts stirring when Karen's phone dings with a text. She jumps, fearing the sound might disturb him. Carefully, she pulls her hand from his, her eyes never leaving his face. The plushie remains under his arm, his antennae twitching slightly with his dreams. Karen reads the text from Hanna, her friend. Her house is under construction and needs a place to stay! But Hanna and Plankton never met each other.. She thinks for a moment, weighing her options. Plankton's autism is still new, and she's not sure how he'll react to a stranger in their space. But Hanna's in need, and Karen can't ignore that. Gently, she leans over and kisses his antennae. "I'll be right back," she whispers to his sleeping form. She goes out front, texting Hanna to meet her in the front yard. Her mind races as she sees Hanna. "Hey, Karen! Sorry about the short notice." Hanna says. "It's ok, just follow me inside," Karen says, opening the front door and closing it behind them. And yet Karen's mind is racing. How will Plankton react? They enter the bed room, where Plankton still sleeps, oblivious to their guest. Karen takes a deep breath. "Hanna, this is Plankton. He's been through a lot today." Hanna nods, her eyes widening at the sight of the tiny creature. "Hi," she says softly. Plankton's antennae twitch, and his eye opens slowly. His gaze flits between Karen and Hanna, his body tense. "It's okay," Karen whispers, her voice a gentle breeze. "This is Hanna. She's a friend." Hanna nods, her smile kind. "Hi, Plankton," she says, her voice soft. "You're Karen's husband right? The one who inven-" But before she can finish, Plankton's body jerks upright, his antennae quivering. "NO!" he shouts, the word cutting through the quiet with panic. Karen's mind races, her eyes snapping to him. "It's okay," she repeats, her voice soothing. "This is Hanna. She's a friend." Plankton's gaze flicks between them, his antennae a blur of movement. "Friend?" he asks, his voice tight with fear. Karen nods. "Yes, a friend," she says firmly. "We're safe here." Hanna nods. "Hi there Plank..." But the sound of her voice sends Plankton into a spiral of anxiety. His eye widens, his body stiffens. Karen's knowing she's made a mistake. The sudden presence of a stranger has disrupted his carefully controlled environment. "Shh," she whispers, moving closer, her movements slow and deliberate. "It's ok. This is Hanna, she's here to stay for a bit." Plankton's antennae twitch frantically, his eye darting between Karen and the new presence in the room. "Hanna?" he echoes, his voice filled with uncertainty. Hanna nods, her smile gentle. "That's right," she says softly before noticing the plushie on the floor. "Ah, is that a plushie?" Plankton's antennae stop moving, his gaze locked on Hanna's hand as it reaches for the toy. "MINE," he says firmly. Hanna's hand freezes, her screen a silent question as she picked it up. Plankton's eye tracks the movement, his body tense. He doesn't like change, his autism demanding predictability and routine. Karen knows what to do. "It's okay," she says, her voice low and reassuring. "Hanna's just lo…" But Plankton's autism doesn't allow for this. He snatches the plushie from Hanna's hand, his body rigid. "MINE!" he shouts sharply. This was a mistake, introducing change so suddenly into his life. "I'm sorry," Hanna says, her hand dropping to her side. "I didn't kn-" But Plankton's fear has turned to anger. "NO!" he shouts, his antennae flaring. "MINE!" Karen's eyes widen, his outburst echoing in the room. Her mind is racing to find the right words, the right way to comfort him. She knows his autism has made him hyper-aware of his possessions. "It's okay, Plankton," she says, her voice a calm river. "Hanna didn't mean to take it. It's still yours." His antennae slowly retract, his body loosening. He looks at Karen, his eye searching for truth.

NEW REALITY viii (Autistic author) "I don't understand," she says, her voice filled with distress. Plankton's hand clenches, his body vibrating with tension. "Numbers," he repeats, his voice edging on a scream. "They make quiet." Hanna's eyes widen, her smile fading to a look of horror. "But Plankton," she says, her voice shaking, "it's just a clock." But her words are like fuel on the fire of his distress. He steps closer to the clock, his hand outstretched as if to will it to silence. "Numbers," he whispers, his voice a plea. "They make quiet." Hanna's eyes fill with sympathy, but her words only worsen his agitation. "Plankton, it's just a clock," she says, reaching out to touch him. Karen's heart hammers in her chest as she sees his body tense even further. "Hanna, don't," she warns, her voice tight. "Please don't touch him right now." But Hanna doesn't hear her, her own voice rising with frustration. "It's just a clock, Plankton," she repeats, her hand covering his shoulder. "Nothing's going to hurt you.." The touch sends him spiraling, his body convulsing with overstimulation. "No touch!" he screams, his hand slapping at her arm, his face a mask of fear and anger. But Plankton's outburst has ignited something in Hanna, a spark of anger. "Why can't you just be normal?" she snaps, her voice echoing through the tense room. Karen's heart breaks as Plankton's eye goes wide, his body jerking away from her. "Hanna, please," she says, her voice tight with pain. But Hanna's words keep coming, a barrage of misunderstanding. "You can't just ignore us," she says, her voice rising. "You have to interact with the world." Plankton's body recoils, his skin seemingly vibrating with each of her words. "Interact," he echoes, his voice strained. Karen's heart is in her throat. "Hanna, please," she says, her voice tight with pain. "You're not helping." But Hanna's eyes are glassy with frustration. "How can I help if he won't even look at me?" she asks, ignoring the desperation in Plankton's gaze as she holds his arms tightly. Karen's eyes plead with her, but Hanna's grip doesn't loosen. "Let go," Plankton whimpers, his voice tight with tension. Hanna's smile is forced, her grip unyielding. "Look at me, Plankton," she says, her voice laced with irritation. "You can't just..." But her words cut him like knives. "Look away," he murmurs, his voice strained, his body begging for the pressure to ease. Hanna's smile falters, her grip tightening. "Why can't you just look at me?" she asks, her voice edged with annoyance. Plankton's breath hitches, his antennae drooping. "Can't," he whispers, his gaze flickering between her and Karen. Hanna's eyes narrow, her grip on his arms tightening. "You can," she insists, her voice firm. "Just..." But Plankton's whimpers grow louder, his body shaking with the effort to pull away. Hanna's smile fades, her grip tightening in frustration. "Why can't you just be like everyone else?" she asks, her tone no longer gentle. Plankton's whimpers become sobs, his body shaking with the effort to break free. Karen's eyes are wet with unshed tears as she watches the scene unfold, her heart breaking for him. Hanna's grip remains firm, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance. "Why are you doing this?" she demands, her voice sharp. "You're just being difficult." Plankton's sobs grow more desperate, his body twisting in her grasp. "Let go," he whispers, his voice a strained plea. Hanna's eyes flash with irritation. "Why ca--" Her words are cut off by Karen's firm voice. "Hanna, please," she says, stepping between them. "You're upsetting him." But Hanna's confusion turns to anger. "How can I not be upset?" she retorts, her grip on Plankton's arms tightening. "He won't even..." Her words are cut off by Karen's firm voice. "Please, Hanna," she says, her eyes pleading. "You don't understand." Suddenly, Plankton's legs buckle, his body going slack as Hanna finally releases his arms. He crumples to the floor. He's retreating, Karen realizes, her heart racing. He's retreating into himself. Karen's eyes fill with fear as she watches him, his sobs subsiding into quiet whimpers. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a prayer. Hanna's face falls, her anger replaced with shock. "What's wrong with him?" she asks, her voice trembling. Karen's eyes are wet with unshed tears as she crouches beside him. "It's a condition," she says, her voice tight with frustration. "He needs time and space to process everything." Hanna's face crumples, her hands going to her mouth. "I didn't know," she whispers, her eyes wide with regret. "I'm sorry." Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton's huddled form. "It's not your fault," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "But we all have to learn." Hanna nods, her eyes brimming with tears. Karen wraps her arms around Plankton, her touch gentle. "It's okay," she murmurs. "I'm here." He trembles against her, sobbing. Hanna stands there, apology etched in every line of her face. "What can I do?" she whispers. Karen looks up, her eyes wet. "Just give us a moment," she says, her voice a gentle command. Hanna nods, backing away slowly, her eyes on Plankton. "Okay," she murmurs, the weight of her words heavy in the silent room. Karen holds Plankton tightly, his body a trembling mass of emotion. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a soothing balm. "You're safe." He nests his head into her shoulder, his whimpers softening to quiet sobs. The room feels thick with their shared pain, the air charged with the tension of misunderstanding. Hanna's eyes dart around, looking for anything that might soothe him. Karen's gaze meets hers, a silent plea for understanding. "It's called autism," Karen says softly, her voice a gentle explanation. Hanna's eyes widen, her face a canvas of realization. "Oh," she whispers, the word a soft exhalation of breath. Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton's tear-stained face. "It's a spectrum," she says, her voice calm and steady. "And he's on a part of it that's very sensitive to stimulation." Hanna nods slowly, her understanding growing. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice full of regret. "I didn't know." Karen's grip tightens around Plankton's shoulders. "It's okay," she murmurs. "We're all still learning." Hanna nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "I'll go," she says, her voice small. "I didn't mean..." Karen nods, her gaze steady. "Thank you," she whispers. "We can talk soon." Hanna nods, her eyes filled with sadness. "Of course," she says, turning to leave. The door clicks shut behind her, leaving Karen and Plankton in the heavy silence. Karen's arms remain around him, her body a protective cocoon against the harshness of the world. Plankton's sobs slowly ease into quiet sniffs, his body still trembling in her embrace. Her heart aches for the pain he's feeling, the fear that Hanna's misunderstanding has brought to the surface. "I'm sorry," she whispers to him, her voice shaking. Plankton's trembles begin to subside, his breathing evening out. He pulls back, his eye searching hers. "No," he murmurs, his voice hoarse from crying. "Not at fault." Karen's eyes fill with relief, her grip on him loosening slightly. "It's okay," she says, her voice a gentle caress. "We just need to find ways to help you." Plankton nods, his eye fluttering shut. Karen's mind races with thoughts of what more she can do, what she can say to make him feel safe. "We'll get through this," she says, her voice a promise. "Together." Plankton's eye opens, his gaze meeting hers. "Together," he echoes, his voice a whisper. Karen's heart swells with love for him, her eyes shimmering with determination. "We'll find what works," she says, her voice firm. Plankton nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "Tired.." Karen's heart breaks at the exhaustion etched into his features. "I got you, you can rest," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. They move to the couch, Plankton's body curling into her side. She wraps the weighted blanket around him, still within their embrace. His breathing slows, his body relaxing against hers. The whirring fan above offers a steady rhythm, a lullaby for his troubled mind. Karen's hand strokes his back in gentle circles, her thumb tracing patterns that seem to soothe his nerves. The fan's steady whir fills the room, a calming symphony that lulls Plankton's racing thoughts to a crawl. Karen's thumb moves in soothing circles on his back, each pass sending a ripple of comfort through him. Plankton's breathing evens, his body slack against hers. The fan's steady hum is a lullaby in the quiet room, a metronome for his racing thoughts. Karen's hand continues its soothing dance across his back, his eye finally closing. The room is a cocoon of silence, the fan's whisper the only sound breaking the stillness. Plankton's breathing slows, his body melts into Karen's embrace. Her hand continues its gentle caress, a metronome of comfort as he finally surrenders to sleep.

JUST A TOUCH iv (Autistic author) The next day, Karen woke up to a meticulously organized kitchen. Plankton was already up, his movements sharp and focused as he arranged the cutlery in the drawer. "Good morning, Plankton," she said, her voice tentative. He looked up, his expression neutral. "Good morning, Karen," he replied, his voice monotone. Her heart squeezed. This was not the man who used to greet her with a cheeky smile and a sigh every morning. But she pushed the sorrow aside and focused on the task at hand: making breakfast. As she began to prep the meal, Plankton hovered nearby, his antennae twitching. "Would you like to help me?" she asked, holding out a spatula. He took it with both hands, his movements mechanical as he followed her instructions to the letter. The sizzle of the chum on the pan seemed to calm him, his gaze flicking between her face and the food. Plankton's meticulousness extended to their breakfast. Every ingredient measured to the exact milliliter, every step in the recipe followed without deviation. Karen watched him, a mix of amazement and sadness swirling inside her. As they sat down to eat, Karen noticed his eye darting between his plate and the clock. "Is something wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light. Plankton's gaze snapped to hers, his antennae still. "Must eat at 7:00," he said, his voice tight. "It's okay, we're a little late," she said, trying to soothe him. "But we're together, and that's what matters." Plankton took a bite of his perfectly arranged breakfast, his eye not leaving the clock. "Seven minutes, thirty-four seconds until 7:00," he murmured. Karen's throat tightened, but she forced a smile. "We'll be done before then," she assured him. The meal was finished in silence, Plankton's precision contrasting with Karen's clumsy attempts to match his rhythm. As they cleared the table, his movements were a dance of order and control, while hers were stilted, filled with nervous glances. In the living room, Plankton moved to his favorite chair, his eye immediately drawn to the bookshelf. His gaze flitted over the books. Karen watched, her heart heavy with the weight of their new reality. The doctor had suggested that engaging in familiar activities could help with the transition. Hoping to ease the tension, she offered, "Would you like a work book?" Plankton nodded, his antennae still. Karen retrieved one from his collection, handing it to him with care. He took it in his hands. It was clear that his intellect had not been diminished, but rather had been reshaped by his condition. Moments later, Hanna came in. She knows Karen's married, but she doesn't know any thing else about Plankton. Hanna's smile was wide and welcoming as she saw the two of them. "Hi, I'm Karen's friend Hanna," she said, extending a hand. Plankton looked at it and then went back to his book. Karen stepped in, her voice soft. "Plankton, this is Hanna," she said, gesturing between them. "Hanna, this is my husband, Plankton." Hanna's smile faltered slightly, noticing the distance in Plankton's gaze. "Hi, Plankton," Hanna said, her tone gentle. "It's nice to meet you." Plankton's antennae twitched, his gaze shifting to her briefly before returning to the book. Karen watched the interaction, her heart racing. How would Hanna react to him? Will Plankton like her? Would she still want to be friends with her? Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton and back, her smile slightly puzzled. "Is he okay?" she asked quietly. Karen nodded. "He's just focused" she said, her voice hitching. "I'll go fix us up some chumbalaya." After Karen left, Hanna sat right up next to Plankton. "Hi, Plankton," she said again. He glanced at her, then back at his book. She waited, leaning forward slightly. Finally, he spoke without looking up. "Hello, Hanna. Karen's friend. Good." It was a statement, not a question or a greeting. Her curiosity was piqued by this odd behavior. Hanna watched as Plankton continued to study the book, his tiny hands flipping pages with a quickness she hadn't seen before. He was like a different creature, his movements calculated. She knew something was off, but she wasn't sure what. So she decides to try getting him to interact. "What are you reading?" she asked, leaning closer. Plankton's antennae shot up. "It's a book," he replied, his voice flat. Hanna laughed, mistaking his bluntness for shyness. "I know that," she said, her tone playful as she leaned closer. "But what's it about?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye narrowing slightly. "It's about... puzzles?" Hanna's eyes widened. "Puzzles?" she repeated, leaning in even closer. Her proximity was making him uncomfortable, his body stiffening like a board. "What kind of puzzles?" Plankton's gaze darted to her before returning to the book. "Word's," he said, his voice sharp as he focused on the page. The way he said it was a clear message to back off, but Hanna was oblivious to the cues. "Oh, words puzzles!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I love those! Can I see?" Without waiting for an answer, she reached for the book, brushing against his hand. Plankton flinched, his antennae drooping. Hanna's cheerfulness didn't wane as she flipped through the pages, exclaiming over the puzzles. "This looks like FUN!" she said, not taking note of how Plankton's body was taut with tension. "It's a good book," Plankton said, his voice devoid of emotion. He was trying to be polite, but the sensory overload was building inside him. The way she talked, the way she moved, the sound of her voice—it was all too much. Hanna, still beaming, turned the page and pointed at a particularly complex puzzle. "Look at this one! Can you do it?" she challenged, her finger tapping the page impatiently. Plankton's eye darted to the puzzle, his mind racing. He didn't want to disappoint but the pressure was too intense. He can't think! "Sure," he stuttered, his voice small. Hanna clapped her hands, excitedly. "Great! Let's see how fast you can solve it!" Plankton felt his heart racing, his antennae drooping. The pressure to perform was suffocating him. He looked at the puzzle, his mind racing through possible word combinations, his eye darting from letter to letter, but Hanna interrupts him again. "Come on, Plankton! I bet you're really good at these!" Her excitement was palpable, but Plankton could only feel his chest tightening. He wanted to scream, to tell her to stop, but the words remained trapped behind the wall of his new social ineptitude. He took the book, his hands shaking slightly as his eye scanned the puzzle. The letters swam before him, his mind racing to keep up with the barrage of sensory input. "Don't be shy," she said, nudging him. "You can do it!" Plankton felt the weight of Hanna's enthusiasm like an anvil on his shoulders. His grip on the book tightened. He had always been good at word puzzles, but now they felt like a labyrinth with no exit. The room spun around him, the pressure to perform building like a storm in his chest. But Hanna's energy was like a tsunami, unstoppable. "You know, I used to be really bad at these," she said, sitting closer, her knees touching his. "But I got so much better with practice!" Plankton felt his skin crawl, the need to escape intensifying. He was trapped in a conversation he hadn't asked for, with a person who was oblivious to his plight. He took a deep breath, his eye scanning the room for a way out. "How about we try one together?" Hanna suggested, her voice bubbly. Plankton's heart hammered in his chest. Hanna didn't seem to notice his distress, her screen shining with excitement. "It'll be fun! Just tell me the letters you see, and I'll guess the words!" Plankton's antennae drooped, his shoulders tense. He wanted to scream, to tell her to leave him alone. But his newfound condition made the words catch in his throat. "Fine," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Hanna's screen lit up, and she leaned in even closer. "Great!" she exclaimed. "I'll start with 'C'. What do you see?" Plankton's gaze remained steadfast on the book, his eye darting from letter to letter. He can't see anything with all... Hanna's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife, sharp and demanding. "C'mon, Plankton, don't be shy! Tell me what you see!" Her hand reached out, grabbing his arm. The sudden touch sent a jolt through him. Plankton flinched, his body reacting before his mind could form a coherent thought. His antennae shot up, and he pulled away, knocking over the book in the process. The sound echoed in the room like thunder. Hanna's smile faltered, confusion clouding her features. "What's wrong?" she asked, genuinely concerned as she cups his head; and that's it. The dam bursts. Plankton's body goes rigid, his eye wide with pain. He can't take it anymore—the touch, the noise, the pressure, his hand flailing to shove her away. "STOP!" he screams, his voice cracking. Hanna's hand retreats as if burned. Her smile fades, replaced by a look of shock and concern. "What happened?" she asks, turning him towards her with her hands on his shoulders. Which is when he stops moving, unblinking as Karen comes back in. Karen sets the chumbalaya aside as she notices his unresponsiveness. "Plankton?" she calls out, concern etching her voice. Hanna turns to her, her eyes wide. "I don't think he's okay," she says, her hand hovering over his shoulder. Karen's heart drops as she rushes over, her eyes scanning his frozen form. "It's okay," she murmurs, gently guiding Hanna away. "Let me handle this."