Lindsay Lohan Emojis & Text

"You can totally sit with us," said a voice that seemed to shimmer with the promise of friendship. Cady Heron looked up from her lunch tray, blinking in surprise. The speaker was a girl with a smile so wide it could swallow her whole, her blonde hair glossy and her teeth as bright as the fluorescent lights above. The words hung in the air, tantalizing and slightly intimidating. This was Regina George, the queen bee of High School. Cady had heard the whispers, the stories that painted her as both an angel and a demon. She was the center of the school's social universe, and everyone else was just a planet orbiting around her. Cady felt a swell of excitement. She had been a fish out of water since moving from Africa to the suburbs of Chicago. The simple act of being acknowledged by the most popular girl in school was a beacon of hope in a sea of unfamiliar faces and cliques. She took a tentative step forward, her heart racing. "Thanks," Cady managed to murmur, setting her tray down at the table. The cafeteria buzzed with whispers as the group of pretty, popular girls made room for her. They were known as the Plastics, a name that Cady had learned from her newfound friend Janis Ian. These girls were the epitome of high school royalty, and now she was about to become one of them.

💕💓💘💄👛👚🎟️📲🤳🎙️

💋🔥📔🙎🏼‍♀️👚

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮₊˚⊹♡

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

🎧☆*: .💿🎸♫

𓍢ִ໋. 𝄞 ✧˚ ༘ ♪ ⋆｡˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖♬ ♪₊ ⊹

-enter song- 01:43 ━━━━●───── 03:50 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

.° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ

👚🔥📓

⊹☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡

♪ ( ˶ˆ o ˆ˵ )

♫₊˚.🎧 ✧✩°｡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

⋆🎧✮⋆

ヾ(´〇｀)ﾉ

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ♫♬♪ 💻🔌 ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 🔊⌞ ⌝🖥

"ᴼⁿ ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ ʷᵉ ʷᵉᵃʳ ᵖⁱⁿᵏ." ⁻ᴹᵉᵃⁿ ᴳⁱʳˡˢ

https://perchance.org/ai-story-generator

James Potter was a peculiar boy with a head of unruly black hair and eyes so bright they could outshine the stars. He had a knack for turning the most mundane moments into grand adventures. Whether it was climbing the tallest tree in the schoolyard or racing his friends across the Quidditch pitch, his imagination knew no bounds. But even in the whirlwind of his escapades, there was one person who remained steadfastly out of reach: Lily Evans. Lily was unlike anyone James had ever met. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to her soft, porcelain skin, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of intelligence and mischief. She was as fierce as a lioness and as graceful as a swan. Her laugh was like a melody that could charm the sternest of hearts, and it was a sound that James longed to hear directed at him. However, she had a tendency to dismiss his efforts with a roll of her eyes and a smirk that suggested she saw right through his bravado. Severus Snape, on the other hand, was a solitary figure. He lurked in the shadows of the school corridors, his eyes darting like a snake's as he took in every detail. His black hair was always impeccably combed and his robes pristine, as if he had just stepped out of a dark wardrobe. Severus was a prodigy in the art of potions, his talents often overlooked due to his cold demeanor. Yet, beneath the surface, there was something about him that drew James in. Perhaps it was the hint of vulnerability that occasionally flickered across his face, or the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about the most obscure magical herbs. The two boys moved in different circles, but they had one thing in common: a deep admiration for Lily. They watched her from afar, each imagining what it would be like to be the one to make her laugh genuinely or to capture her heart. But as the school year rolled on, their paths began to intertwine in ways they could never have anticipated. It was as if fate had a twisted sense of humor, throwing them together in situations that neither could escape. And as they found themselves drawn closer to Lily, a silent rivalry began to brew between them, a dance of longing glances and unspoken words. James, ever the charmer, tried to win Lily over with his flashy Quidditch moves and cheeky grins. But Lily, ever the enigma, remained unimpressed. In his frustration, James took to teasing Severus, using his popularity to make the other boy's life bad. He'd steal his books, trip him in the halls, and whisper snide comments. One rainy afternoon, as the school was dismissed for the day, James caught Severus crossing the crowded courtyard. He saw his chance and sneered, "Hey, Snapes, where's your broomstick?" His friends snickered, and Severus tensed, his eyes narrowing. Without waiting for a response, James conjured a water spray that drenched Severus' already soggy robes. The laughter grew louder as Severus stumbled away, the weight of his sodden clothes dragging him down. In the Great Hall, James watched as Severus sat alone at the Slytherin table, his shoulders hunched over a book. He whispered to his friends, "Look at the lonely little snake," and they all burst into laughter again. Severus glanced up, his gaze sharp and piercing, but James felt no remorse. In fact, he felt a strange thrill, as if he was in control of something he never had been before. The power of ridicule was potent, and he wielded it with the same ease he did his wand. Days turned into weeks, and James' pranks grew bolder. He'd jinx Severus' shoelaces to trip him up in the halls, replace his potion ingredients with foul-smelling dungbombs, and even cast a spell to make his robes shrink in the middle of class. Each time, Severus took the humiliation in silence, his eyes burning with a quiet anger that James found both fascinating and thrilling. It was a twisted game, but one James was determined to win. But the more James bullied, the more he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. It wasn't just guilt; it was something else. He noticed the way Severus' hands trembled as he poured potions, the way his voice grew softer in the face of his tormentors. And every time Lily saw what was happening, she'd give James a look that made him feel smaller than a house elf. He knew he was losing her respect, but he couldn't stop. It was as if he was under a compulsion to push Severus away from her, to prove to himself that he was the one she truly desired. One day, James' antics reached a new low. He'd convinced a group of his friends to help him pull a prank so elaborate, it was sure to leave Severus humiliated beyond repair. They waited in the shadows of the deserted library, setting up a series of traps that would culminate in a grand finale of slime and laughter. But as Severus approached, his head buried in a dusty tome, James felt a strange tug at his heart. He watched as the other boy stepped onto the first trap, a levitating book that smacked him in the face. The laughter of his friends seemed to echo hollowly in the vast room. Severus stumbled back, dropping his book into the puddle of ink that had appeared under his feet. He looked up, his eyes meeting James' for a brief moment. In that instant, James saw something he hadn't noticed before: a deep sadness that mirrored his own. It was as if the layers of bravado and spite had been peeled away, revealing a soul just as lost and lonely as his. The laughter died in his throat, and for a moment, James felt a flicker of empathy. But the moment was fleeting. His friends were still snickering, and Lily was watching from across the room, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. He knew he had to go through with it. The second trap was triggered, and a cascade of glittering confetti showered Severus, sticking to his damp robes like glittering scales. The Slytherin students looked on with a mix of amusement and contempt, and James felt his heart sink. He'd gone too far. As the last echo of laughter faded away, Severus slowly picked himself up, his eyes never leaving James. He wiped the ink from his face and took a step towards him, his fists clenched at his sides. "Is this what you call fun, Potter?" he spat, his voice low and dangerous. James took a step back, his bravado momentarily forgotten. He hadn't anticipated this. "It was just a joke, Snapes," James said weakly, his smile slipping. Severus took another step closer, his eyes blazing. "Is it a joke to you, to watch someone else's pain?" James's heart hammered in his chest as he searched for the right words, but his usual quips eluded him. The realization of what he'd done washed over him like a cold shower. He'd gone too far, and he couldn't take it back.

In the quaint town lived a young woman named Charlotte Watsford. Her days were filled with the quiet rhythms of the local library, where she worked meticulously cataloging books that had seen more years than she had. Charlotte had an unassuming beauty, with her auburn hair pinned back. Her smile was gentle, and it had the power to make even the sternest of patrons feel at ease. Beneath the veneer of the town, there was a world of magic, ancient and unseen. It was here that Charlotte's life took an unexpected turn when she met Cleo Sertori, a young woman with secrets as deep as the ocean. Cleo was a mermaid, a guardian of the sea, blessed with the ability to manipulate water and heal the creatures that dwelled within it. The revelation was as shocking as it was fascinating. Yet, with this gift came great responsibility, and Charlotte found herself torn between the life she knew and the allure of the vast, unexplored waters that called to her soul. One moonlit night, while the town slept peacefully, Charlotte felt an eerie emptiness within her. The gentle whispers of the sea that had once resonated in her heart were now silent. Panic set in as she realized her mermaid tail, a symbol of her newfound identity, had withered away, leaving her with the legs of a human once more. The loss of her powers weighed heavily on her, a sudden and profound absence that seemed to dull the vibrant colors of the world around her. Her heart pounded as she approached the edge. The ocean below was a restless canvas of inky blues and greys, a stark contrast to the serene waters that had cradled her during her time as a mermaid. The salt air kissed her cheeks, carrying with it a bittersweet reminder of the freedom she had left behind. Lewis, her devoted best friend, stood beside her, his eyes filled concern and curiosity. With trembling hands, Charlotte reached to Cleo's necklace. It was a talisman of her friendship with the mermaid, a bond that transcended the boundaries of land and sea. "I have to return this to her," she murmured, the weight of her decision etched into every syllable. With a heavy heart, Charlotte unclasped the necklace.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Enid begged, her eyes wide with excitement. Wednesday sat quietly in the corner of the room, her black dress blending into the shadows. She didn't look up from her book, her finger marking her place. "I don't think so," she said, her voice calm and measured. Enid pouted, her cheerleader's spirit momentarily dampened. "But it's the prom dance, Wednesday. Everyone's going to be there!" Wednesday closed her book with a soft thud and looked up, her gaze piercing through Enid's hopeful facade. "I see your enthusiasm, but crowded social gatherings are not my idea of fun." Enid sighed, understanding that pushing the issue would lead nowhere. She sat down next to her friend, her own excitement dimming. "I know, I know. But it's our senior year. It's like, a rite of passage or something." Wednesday's eyes remained on the closed book in her lap. "I'd prefer to pass on that particular rite." Enid leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially, "But it's the perfect place to observe human behavior. Think of it as an anthropological study." Wednesday's eyes lit up slightly at the thought. "I suppose you have a point," she conceded. "But I'll need to establish some ground rules." Enid clapped her hands together. "Of course! What do you need?" Wednesday thought for a moment before listing her conditions. "First, no slow dancing. Second, I control the music playlist. Third, I wear what I want." Enid nodded eagerly. "Deal! I'll handle the first two. And as for the third, I trust your impeccable taste." Wednesday raised an eyebrow. "My taste is not up for debate, nor is it the issue. It's the school's dress code that requires negotiation." Enid's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Leave that to me," she said, already texting away on her phone. Within minutes, she had secured a meeting with the principal to discuss "alternative fashion choices" for the prom. As the big night approached, Enid sent Wednesday a playlist of dark, rhythmic tunes that she had carefully curated. Each song was a masterpiece of gothic rock, a genre that she knew would resonate with her friend's soul. Meanwhile, Wednesday had been busy designing the perfect dress —a long, flowing gown of midnight black with intricate white lace that looked like it had been plucked from a Victorian mourning ceremony. She had paired it with her favorite black boots and a choker necklace adorned with a single crimson rose. The day of the prom, Enid couldn't contain her excitement. She bustled into the room, her own outfit a vibrant mix of neon colors that seemed to glow in the dim light of the Addams' mansion. "Wednesday, you have to come see this!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying the urgency of a child who had just discovered a secret treasure. Wednesday set down her scalpel, which she had been using to dissect a particularly interesting spider, and followed Enid upstairs. The dress laid out on her bed was indeed a sight to behold. It was a macabre symphony of black taffeta and delicate lace, the skirt adorned with a pattern of thorny vines that looked like they could draw blood with a single brush. The bodice hugged her slender frame, the neckline plunging just low enough to hint at the darkness beneath. "It's... " she began, searching for the right word. "Awful," Enid offered, her tone teasing. Wednesday smirked. "Perfect," she corrected, her voice laden with approval. "It's perfect."

✏️🎀📓💋

Plankton lay on the makeshift bed of crumpled newspaper, his body contorted into an uncomfortable knot. "I can't get to sleep, Eugene." Krabs sighed. "Why not?" "To hard," Plankton complained. Krabs looked over. "Maybe you need something to relax," he suggested. Plankton nodded, hopeful. "Like what?" Krabs considered for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "How about a bed time story?" "A what?" Plankton's voice was filled with skepticism. "You know, something to lull you to sleep." Plankton's expression softened. "Alright, Krabs, hit me with your best shot." Eugene cleared his throat and began his tale. "Once upon a time, in the vast expanse of the sea, there was a tiny plankton named Planky..." Plankton's eye widened for a moment, but the gentle rhythm of Krabs' voice soon began to work its magic. The crab's words painted a picture of a serene under water world, where the currents were soft whispers and the bioluminescent creatures danced a silent ballet. Plankton's eye grew heavier with each sentence, his body slowly unfurling from its tense state. "Planky," Eugene continued, "was a curious little fellow who loved nothing more than to drift through the sea, discovering its many secrets." His voice took on a soothing quality, each word carefully measured to match the steady rise and fall of the ocean outside their abode. "One night," Krabs went on, "as the moon cast its silver glow through the water, Planky stumbled upon a hidden lagoon. It was a place where the jelly fish swam in lazy circles, their soft bodies pulsing to an ancient lullaby that only the deep-sea creatures knew." Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, the image of the tranquil lagoon filling his mind. "In the center of this secret place," Krabs whispered, "was a giant clam, its shell open just enough to reveal a soft, inviting cushion of algae. Planky couldn't resist the urge to rest his tiny body upon it." Plankton's breathing grew deeper. He could almost feel the gentle sway of the clam's soft inner lining beneath him, the coolness of the water surrounding him, and the hypnotic pull of the moon's glow. Krabs noticed the change in his friend's demeanor and continued the story with renewed enthusiasm. "As Planky lay on the clam's cushion, the jellyfish grew closer, their ethereal lights creating a dazzling display of color that danced in time with the whispers of the water. They sang to him, their melodies echoing through the quiet night." The room grew quieter, save for the sound of the waves outside and Krabs' steady voice. Plankton's eye closed fully, his breathing syncing with the rhythm of the story. The crab went on, "Their song was one of peace and tranquility, of a world where worries were as fleeting as the bubbles that floated to the surface. Planky felt his troubles melt away, replaced by the warm embrace of the sea." Then, amidst the serene imagery, the first faint sound of a snore escaped Plankton. It was a sound so small and delicate that it could have easily been mistaken. Krabs smirked to himself. It's working. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "As the jellyfish serenaded him, Planky felt his eyes grow heavier and heavier, until they could no longer stay open. The lagoon's secrets grew dimmer, the colors of the jellyfish fading into a soft, comforting darkness." The snores grew progressively, more regular. Krabs took a moment to appreciate his own cleverness before continuing the tale. "The sea creatures of the night, noticing Planky's peaceful slumber, decided to join him. They formed a living blanket of fish and algae, wrapping him in their gentle embrace, ensuring his sleep would be uninterrupted." Plankton's body grew slack, the tension in his muscles seeping away as he descended deeper into the realm of sleep. His snores grew more rhythmic. The light from the moon had been absorbed into his dreams, guiding him through a world of peace and contentment. Krabs watched his friend's sleeping form, noticing the way the shadows played across his tiny frame, Plankton's antennae twitching ever so slightly with every snore, mouth slightly open as he inhaled and then to let out the soft, rumbling sounds. The sight was peculiar, yet endearing in its own peculiar way. He had never seen Plankton so relaxed, so free. The crab felt a strange sense of accomplishment and allowed himself a brief moment of pride before remembering his own exhaustion. "Now, Sheldon," Eugene murmured, "Let your mind rest, and tomorrow we'll tackle the world anew."

ᵎᵎ( ๑˃̶ ꇴ ˂̶)♪ ⁺｡o

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋🎧ྀི

⟡ pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺✮⋆˙

Her strongest memory was of the smell of rain on hot pavement. It was a scent that didn't just fill her nose but seemed to soak into her skin, bringing with it a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in a very long time. Bluey Heeler was a creature of the outdoors, a dog with a heart that pounded in sync with the vast wilderness she called home. Her fur, a blend of blue and gray, blended seamlessly with the shadows of the eucalyptus trees that stretched tall beside her family's modest house. Rainy days meant puddles to splash in and the rich scent of earth coming alive around her. But it had been a long time since she'd felt the cool kiss of rainwater on her snout. Now, Bluey was in the city, surrounded by the concrete jungle, a stark contrast to the boundless plains she'd once known. The smells here were overwhelming, a mishmash of exhaust fumes, fast food, and a million different creatures packed into a space so tight it made her feel claustrophobic. The noises were constant, a never-ending din that made her flinch and whine in the quiet moments of the night. Yet, amidst the chaos, she had found a purpose, a reason to push through the fear and confusion. Her new friend, named Mia, had taken her in, offering her a chance at a new life filled with love and companionship. Mia was as vibrant as the flowers she tended in the small patch of earth outside their apartment. Despite the stark difference in their sizes, they shared a bond that transcended the confines of the urban sprawl. Each day, Mia would take her on adventures through the parks, allowing her to feel the grass under her paws and chase the occasional squirrel up a tree. It wasn't the same as the open ranges she'd left behind, but it was a taste of freedom she hadn't known in weeks. One evening, as the two sat on the windowsill watching the rain dance in the streetlights, a distant howl echoed through the concrete valleys. It was faint, almost lost in the symphony of city sounds, but to Bluey, it was as clear as if it had come from right beside her. Her ears perked up, and she let out a soft whine, longing for the days when she could have joined the chorus. Mia looked at her, concern etched on her features. "What is it, girl?" she asked, her tail thumping against the sill as she tried to convey the ache in her soul. The howl grew stronger, more insistent, and suddenly, Bluey realized it wasn't just any howl. It was her sister, Bingo. The same melody that had serenaded their nights back home, now calling to her from across the miles. Bingo's howl was a beacon, a thread of their shared past that had somehow found its way to her here in the city. Mia's eyes widened as she saw the recognition in Bluey's eyes. "Is that...?" she began, but the question was unnecessary. Bingo came in. Without a second thought, Bluey leaped. She didn't care about the water soaking her fur or the cold seeping into her bones. All that mattered was finding Bingo. The city streets were a labyrinth of wet reflections, the neon lights playing tricks on her eyes as she sprinted through the rain. The scent grew stronger with every bound, her nose leading her through alleys and across busy roads, dodging puddles that mirrored the chaos above. Mia, soaked and panting, struggled to keep up. Then, a shadow moving swiftly in the rain. Bluey's heart leaped. That was Bingo! She picked up the pace, her paws barely touching the ground. The howl grew closer, turning into a series of excited barks as the two sisters rounded a corner and locked eyes. Bingo's tail wagged a mile a minute, and she barrels towards Bluey, knocking her over in a joyous reunion of wet dog and muddy paws. They rolled together, the sound of their laughter piercing the rain-soaked silence. Mia skidded to a stop, panting and smiling through the downpour. She watched as the two sisters played, their tails creating a whirlwind of joy in the dim streetlight. The sight was enough to warm her to the core, making the dampness of her fur coat feel like a small price to pay for this moment. "Bingo," she called out, her voice a mix of happiness and relief. "You found her, Bluey!"

He felt his eyelid grow heavy to anesthesia. "Alright, Mr. Plankton, you're gonna start feeling sleepy," the doctor's voice echoed. The world around him grew fuzzy, sounds becoming muffled and indistinct. His head lolled, body slack. The nurse's grew blurry, darkness before not even nothingness. Karen, his wife, sat by him. Finally, the doctor stepped back, turned and gave her a thumbs up. The nurse began to clean Plankton's face, wiping away the excess saliva and bleeding with gentle touch. Karen follows as they wheel him out. His bed was pushed into a small cubicle, his breathing slow and even. In stumbled SpongeBob. Karen smiles. "The surgery went well, he's just sleeping it off," she assured. SpongeBob's taking in the beeping monitors. "What's all this for?" he asks, curiosity piqued. "To make sure he's ok while he's asleep," Karen explained. "The doctor said he'd be out for a little while." The yellow sponge nodded, his gaze lingering on the small wads of gauze peeking out from the sides of Plankton's mouth. "What's that?" he asks. "It's to help absorb.." Sponge Bob took in the sight of Plankton, who had begun to drool slightly onto the pillow beneath his head. The saliva pooled. "Oh no, Plankton. You're drooling!" Sponge Bob watched as drool continued to form like a thin string connecting Plankton's mouth to the pillow. Karen chuckled softly. "It's normal, Sponge Bob. He won't feel it as he's asleep." SpongeBob nodded, but curiosity remained. "Can I... I mean, should I... wipe it up?" he asks. Karen laughs. "It's ok, they'd take care of it. Just let him rest." "I promise to be super gentle" Karen nodded, a small smile playing. "Alright. Just be careful." His movements were deliberate, eyes never leaving Plankton's mouth as he approached. The drool strand grew longer, a tiny bridge between his friend and the pillow. The droplet fell away, landing on the pillow with a soft splat. Plankton stirred slightly but didn't wake. "It's fine. He's going to be a bit out of it when he wakes up anyway. Why don't you try talking to him while we wait for him to wake? It might help him feel more at ease." "Hey it's Sponge Bob. You're ok, just having a little nap. No Krabby Patties to steal right now," he added with a chuckle. Plankton's eye began to flutter, a sure sign that he was slowly coming back to consciousness. His body twitched, the anesthesia wearing off. "Looks like he's waking up," she said. Karen leaned closer, her hand reaching out to gently squeeze his. "Honey, it's me," she whispered. "You're ok." Plankton's unfocused and glazed. "Where... what... happened?" he mumbled. "You had wisdom teeth removed. You're in recovery," she said, voice soothing. Plankton blinked. "Wis...wis...what?" "You had a little...uh...dental appointment," SpongeBob said. "Teeth...gone?" he mumbled, still groggy. "You're fine," she assured. "I feel... funny," he giggled, voice silly. "Just relax, Plankton," Karen said. "But...but I wanna...see!" Plankton protested, arms flailing weakly. "Plankton, you need rest." "But I'm not tired!" he exclaimed, as his head lolled back onto the pillow. "I... I want to dance," he said, voice still slurred, which only resulted in more drool escaping. "First, you gotta get better," she said, voice earnest. Plankton's giggles grew, his eye half-closed. "But I'm already the best... at... at... at... " he mumbled, trailing off. "It's anesthesia," the nurse chimed in. "It can make people say some funny things. You're just feeling a bit loopy, Plankton. You'll be back to your usual self soon." Plankton's giggles grew softer, his eye struggling to stay open. "But... but... I'm not tired," he protested weakly, his voice a mere whisper. His eyelid began to droop once more. Sponge Bob leaned in. "You just had surgery, Plankton. You need to rest," he said firmly. Plankton's giggles turned into snores, his tiny body giving in despite his protests. "He's going to be out for a while," the nurse said. "Anesthesia can take time to wear off completely." Karen nodded, watching his chest rise and fall with each snore. Sponge Bob reached out and lightly patted Plankton's arm. Plankton's snores grew quieter and stirred, eye cracking. "Wha... SpongeBob?" he mumbled, groggy. Sponge Bob's heart swelled at the sight of his confused expression. "Just keeping you company as you wake." Plankton's eye rolled to the side. "Wha... what are you doing?" he slurred, his voice barely above a whisper. He tried to lift his hand to his mouth, but it flopped back down onto the bed with a limp thud. "Drool? I...I can't stop," he mumbled, his drool pooling around the fresh gauze. Sponge Bob chuckles. "It's ok, Plankton," he said. Plankton's eye narrows. "Not funny," he mumbled, words barely intelligible. Yet as he said it, another string of drool began to form, stretching from his mouth to the pillow. Sponge Bob's chuckles grew. "I know, I know. It's just... you're so... so... " he couldn't find words, laughter took over. Plankton's unable to control his drool. "I'm so...so...so..." he tried to form a coherent thought. "So what, Plankton?" "I'm...I'm not...not...drooling," he managed to say, words barely coherent. But even as he spoke, a new droplet formed at the corner of his mouth. "You sure?" "St...stop," Plankton managed to mumble, his mouth open and drooling again. "It's...it's...embarrassing." Sponge Bob smiled. "I know, you're ok. The surgery went well," he said. "Alright, we can get him ready to go home now," says nurse. They carefully lift Plankton from the bed, body still limp from the anesthesia. "You ok?" "Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, head lolling to one side. He struggled to keep his eye open, but the medication was too strong. Plankton's eye drooped shut once more, his snores echoing through the hall. "Whoa, there he goes again…" "He's still pretty out of it," she said. Plankton's head lolled to the side, his mouth hanging open. "Whoa, Plankton, wake up," Sponge Bob said, gently shaking his shoulder. "Mmph," Plankton mumbled, his eye cracking open. "Where...are we?" "Almost to the car," Karen said. "Just a bit longer." But Plankton's eyelid grew heavier. The nurse disappeared through the doors, leaving Karen and Sponge Bob to maneuver Plankton into a more upright position. His head kept flopping to one side, his snores grew louder. "Come on, Plankton, stay with us," Karen urged. Sponge Bob leaned close. "You ok?" he asked, patting Plankton's shoulder. Plankton's head lolled to the side, eye half- open. "Mmph...tired," he mumbled. Karen managed to get him in, his body collapsing into the seat like a ragdoll. She buckled him in. "You're gonna be ok," she whispered. Sponge Bob climbed into the backseat. Karen started the engine. "Let's get him home." The car ride was a blur of Plankton's snores and occasional mumble. Sponge Bob sat in the back, his hand on Plankton's shoulder, keeping his friend from lolling too far to the side. Each time Plankton nodded off, his mouth would droop, and gauze would slip out. "Plankton, gotta keep it in." Plankton mumbled something incoherent, his mouth still open and drooling. Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his hand ready to catch the gauze if it fell out again. Plankton's eye fluttered open, looking around the car. "Just stay with us, ok?" Sponge Bob nodded, hand on Plankton's shoulder. He watched as Plankton's eye drooped, the gauze slipping again. He leaned over and gently pushed it back. "We're almost there." Karen chuckled from the driver's seat. Sponge Bob’s grip on Plankton's shoulder tightening slightly. "Want to play a game?" "Mmph...game?" he mumbled. "I spy with my little eye, something..." But Plankton's head had already dropped back, snores echoing. Karen glanced in the mirror. "I think he's out for the count," she said. Sponge Bob was still vigilant, making sure Plankton didn't tumble out of the car. With Karen's help, they managed to get him to the couch. Sponge Bob helped prop Plankton up, careful not to jostle him too much. Everything’s just fine.

"Hey, how's Plankton doing?" asked Patrick. SpongeBob looks at Plankton, chest rising and falling with snores. "He's sleeping," he said. "But it's the middle of the day!" "Well, he just had his wisdom teeth out," he explained in a hushed tone. "He's pretty out of it. But be quiet, ok?" He turned his attention back to Plankton, who had somehow managed to dislodge the gauze again. With a sigh, SpongeBob carefully repositioned it. "You're going to have to keep that in, Plankton," he said, his voice a gentle scold. But Plankton’s head lolled to the side, his snores growing louder with each breath, drool seeping through the gauze. "Look at him, SpongeBob," Patrick whispers. "He's snoring." "Patrick, shh. He's still recovering." "Can I...can I poke him?" "No, Patrick," he said, his voice a low whisper. Patrick's finger was already outstretched, hovering over Plankton. "Just a little? I just wanna see if he'll snore louder," he whispered. SpongeBob's grip on Patrick's hand tightened. "Patrick, remember what I said about being quiet," he reminded him. Plankton stirred in his sleep, snores turning to mumbles. Patrick was undeterred. He leaned even closer to Plankton, his hand hovering above the sleeping creature's forehead. "You're okay, buddy," he whispered, his voice a mix of concern and glee. "Just rest up, and when you wake up, we'll have the best party ever!" Plankton's snores remained steady. He reached out and gently poked Plankton's forehead. "Wake up, little buddy," he cooed, his voice a soft whisper. Plankton's eye snaps open, his tiny body jolting upright with a snort. The gauze fell from his mouth, and he looked around the room with a glazed expression, his eye finally settling on Patrick's massive grin. "Wha... what's going on?" he slurred, his voice muffled by the anesthesia. Plankton's eye narrowed, his head lolling slightly to the side. "What happened?" he slurred. SpongeBob took a tentative step closer to the couch, his heart racing. "You had your wisdom teeth out," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "You're at my place, just resting." Plankton blinked, his eye focusing on SpongeBob with a look of confusion. "Wisdom teeth?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. SpongeBob nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "Yes, Plankton, remember? You're all fixed up now," he said, his voice soothing. But Patrick couldn't resist the urge to add his own twist. "And, you snore!" he whispered, his voice filled with mirth. Plankton's confusion grew. "I... I snore?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mortification. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he assured, SpongeBob eyes Patrick with a warning look. "What's it feel like?" he whispered, his voice a mix of excitement and concern. Plankton looked at Patrick with bewilderment. "It feels...weird," he mumbled, his words slurred. "And my mouth is...numb." Drool had formed at the corner of Plankton's mouth. Patrick couldn't resist pointing it out. "Look, Sponge Bob, he's drooling!" Sponge Bob shot him a look that was a mix of annoyance and amusement before turning back to Plankton. "It's okay, Plankton," he whispered, his voice gentle. "It's normal." Plankton's eye grew distant, his mind still clouded by the anesthesia. "Everything's...so...blurry," he murmured, his words slurring together. Sponge Bob and Patrick exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. "It's the medicine," Sponge Bob explained, his voice calm and reassuring. "It'll wear off soon." But Patrick's curiosity was unquenchable. He leaned closer to Plankton. "Hey, Plankton," he whispered. "I... I don't know," he mumbled, his voice groggy. "Everything's all... wibbly wobbly." "Wibbly wobbly?" He looked over at Plankton, whose eye was still open, staring at the ceiling with a look of wonder. "Everything's...so...pretty,". "It's just the living room, Plankton. You're still a bit out of it." Patrick's eyes grew wide with fascination. "Hey, Sponge Bob," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "Look at his mouth!" Sponge Bob turned his gaze to Plankton, drooling more than ever. "Patrick, shh," he scolded, his voice a gentle whisper. "Let him rest." Plankton's snores grew quieter for a moment before picking up again, a trail of drool connecting his mouth to the pillow. "Is it...normal?" "It's just his body's way of dealing with the surgery, he can’t help it" he murmured. "It'll go away eventually, all part of the process. It's the stuff that makes you sleep through the surgery, like a really deep sleep so he won’t feel or remember.” "But why does it keep coming out?" "It's because his mouth is numb from the dental surgery, Patrick, it's his mouth muscles still asleep." "Can I...I mean, is it okay to, like, nudge it?" He made contact with the drool, sending a ripple through the salivary puddle. Plankton's snores grew louder, his mouth opening even wider. "Patrick," he hissed, his voice a mix of warning and amusement. "You're pushing your luck." His eyes remained fixed on Plankton, watching the drool pool grow and shrink with each snore. He remained blissfully asleep, oblivious to the conversation happening around him "What if I just...dab it with a tissue?" "I guess it’ll help keep him comfortable." He gently touched the tissue to the side of Plankton's mouth, catching the drool before it could fall onto the pillow. The moment the tissue made contact with the saliva Plankton, who was now snoring more heavily, his mouth hanging open even wider, drool cascading onto the pillow, sending a ripple through the salivary puddle. Plankton's snores grew louder, his mouth opening even wider., It was a light touch, just enough to make the saliva wobble like a gelatinous blob. It was a tiny movement, but it was enough to make Plankton's snores hitch. "The anesthesia is wearing off, and his mouth is just... reacting. The numbness is normal." With each dab of the tissue, Plankton's snores grew softer, quieted, his mouth twitching slightly, his breathing even. Then Plankton's face twitched slightly, his expression shifting from remaining asleep with breathing deep and steady, to one of slight discomfort as the lingering anesthesia began to wear off. Snores had turned into soft whimpers of discomfort. "It’s normal he's starting to feel the pain." He reached for the medicine. “Just stay still, Plankton," Sponge Bob whispered. Sponge Bob nodded, his smile gentle. "It's just the start," he murmured, his voice a mix of reassurance and experience. "It'll take a bit for the pain to go away." Plankton's mouth was still slack, the drool now a steady stream that pooled on the pillow. Together, they managed to get Plankton into a sitting position, his legs dangling over the side of the couch. "Hey you need to wake up just a little bit to take your medicine." Plankton's head lolls back against the pillows. "Patrick, hold his shoulders," Sponge Bob whispered urgently. "We don't want him to fall over." Plankton's gaze searched the room, his thoughts clearly muddled. "There you go," Sponge Bob whispered, his voice filled with relief. He carefully laid Plankton back down on the pillows, wiping the last of the drool from him. Plankton's eye remained open, blinking slowly as the world swam back into focus. "You did it," Sponge Bob whispered, his voice filled with pride as he swallowed medicine. "Now, just rest. The pain will start to go away soon." Plankton's eye drifted closed again, his snores returning, though softer than before. Sponge Bob gently let Plankton's head back onto the pillow. "He's okay now," Sponge Bob whispered, his voice a mix of relief and pride. "Good job, helping Patrick." Patrick's eyes remained wide with wonder, his mind still racing with the excitement of the past few moments. "What happens next?" he murmured, his voice filled with anticipation. Sponge Bob's smile was a mix of amusement and reassurance. "Now the medicine will kick in."

"Hi, my boss Mr. Krabs told me I need to work on my people skills and to volunteer.." SpongeBob says in the surgery room before recognizing Plankton and Karen. Plankton lay on the operating table, a small tube delivering medicine that kept him asleep. Karen sat by him. "Plankton‽" "Plankton's had his wisdom teeth removed." She glanced at the sleeping Plankton with affection. Sponge Bob leaned closer. He poked Plankton gently. "Hey, Plankton; wake up, buddy!" No response. Plankton's breathing remained slow and even, the rhythm unchanged by Sponge Bob's nudges. Karen's robotic hand shot up to stop Sponge Bob's poking. "He's not going to wake up anytime soon, Sponge Bob. The anesthesia will wear off in a couple of hours," she explained in her usual monotone. Sponge Bob's bubbly demeanor deflated a bit. He had never seen Plankton so... peaceful. Usually the tiny villain was full of mischief and plotting his next Krabby Patty heist. But the sight of his arch-nemesis helpless and snoring? "Karen, do you think a little light chat would help him wake up?" "Sponge Bob, the purpose of anesthesia is to keep him unconscious during surgery and ensure a painless recovery. Your efforts are futile." Undeterred, Sponge Bob leaned in closer. "Come on, Plankton. Time to wakey-wakey!" He waved his hands in front of Plankton's face, creating a gentle breeze that tickled his antennae. Still, Plankton remained steadfast in his slumber, oblivious to the world around him. Karen sighed again, the closest she ever got to expressing exasperation. "As I said, Sponge Bob, he's under the effects of anesthesia. There's nothing you can do to wake him up." She went back to reading her magazine, the glow from her screen casting a soft blue light on her metallic features. Sponge Bob studied Plankton's sleeping features. His mouth was open just enough to reveal his top row of teeth, and Sponge Bob had to stifle a giggle when a small bubble of drool formed at the corner of his mouth. "You know," he mused aloud, "I never realized Plankton had such a... cute snoring sound." The statement hung in the air, and even the normally stoic Karen couldn't resist cracking a smile. "Cute is hardly the word I'd use," she murmured, but the warmth in her voice belied the affection she had for her partner. Sponge Bob's curiosity grew as he continued to gaze at the unconscious Plankton. He'd seen him in various states before—angry, plotting and occasionally defeated—but never so vulnerable. The sight was strange yet fascinating. He reached out and carefully wiped away the drool. Plankton's head lolled to the side, but he remained asleep. SpongeBob put his head back up on a pillow. Plankton's snores grew quieter as his head settled into the cushioned embrace. "Don't worry, Plankton," he whispered, patting the villain's arm gently. "I'll watch over you." Sponge Bob's curiosity grew stronger as he watched the drool form at the side of Plankton's mouth. He leaned in closer, studying the phenomenon. He'd never noticed Plankton drool before. "It's like a tiny river," he said to himself. What would happen if he tried to touch it? He tapped it lightly. It wobbled, bulging slightly before collapsing back into its original state. He poked the drool again. This time, it grew slightly larger before popping, leaving a tiny, wet splatter on the pillow. Plankton's snores grew louder for a moment, but didn't stir. Sponge Bob couldn't resist a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like he's enjoying his nap," he whispered to Karen who remained engrossed in her magazine. The drool was fascinating—like a living organism, pulsating with every one of Plankton's breaths. He poked it again, gently this time. The drool grew larger, stretching out like a bubble of gum. It was almost mesmerizing. "I wonder if I can make it pop," he thought, eyes gleaming with child-like excitement. Slowly, Sponge Bob poked the drool bubble once more. It grew to the size of a marble before it burst with a tiny splat, splattering on to the pillow. Plankton's snoring remained undisturbed. Sponge Bob could see the light from the ceiling reflecting off the droplet's surface. He waited, the anticipation building, eyes fixed on the wobbling mass. At the last second, he poked it. The bubble popped with a sound that echoed through the quiet room. Plankton's snore caught in his throat for a split second, then resumed with renewed vigor. The splatter was more substantial this time, leaving a wet spot on the pillow. The sudden noise made Karen look up from her magazine. "What on earth are you doing, Sponge Bob?" she asked, voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Just... science," Sponge Bob said, his grin unabated. "I'm studying Plankton's snoring pattern... and drool." Karen rolled her digital eyes. "Fine. Just don't wake him. And for the love of Krabby Patties, please don't make a mess." She returned her focus to her magazine, seemingly unfazed by the sight of her arch-enemy playing with drool. Sponge Bob nodded solemnly, his eyes lighting up with newfound purpose. He decided to be more strategic in his scientific endeavor. He would need precision and timing. The drool bubble grew again, this time larger and more robust. Sponge Bob waited, his heart beating faster with every pulse of Plankton's snore. He took a deep breath, held it, and at the peak of the snore's crescendo, poked the bubble with a controlled flick. It exploded with a sound like a miniature water balloon, splattering across Plankton's cheek. The pillow was now a Jackson Pollock canvas of drool. Plankton's snoring hitched but he didn't wake. "Oops," Sponge Bob whispered, giggling quietly. He reached for a near by tissue to clean up the mess, his eyes glancing nervously at Karen. She peeked over her magazine, the corners of her robotic mouth curving upward slightly. "If you're going to play, at least be tidy," she said, voice a blend of reprimand and amusement. Sponge Bob nodded, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course, Karen," he whispered back, dabbing at Plankton's cheek with the tissue. The drool was sticky and clung to the fabric but Sponge Bob managed to clean when Plankton's snoring hitched. This time, Plankton's eyes opened a crack, his single eyelid revealing a sliver of his iris before dropping shut again. "What's going on?" he mumbled sleepily. Sponge Bob froze, tissue in mid-air. "Oh nothing," he said quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just admiring your snoring." Plankton's eyelid quivered but remained shut. "Mmph." His mouth moved around the word. "Don't worry, buddy," Sponge Bob said softly patting Plankton's arm. "You're just resting. Nothing to worry about." The half-awake Plankton mumbled something unintelligible, and Sponge Bob took it as a sign to back off. He retreated to his chair, watching as Karen put down her magazine and began to fuss over Plankton, checking his vitals and making sure he was comfortable. For once, he wasn't at odds with Plankton.

In the quiet town of Ponyville, there lived a young earth pony named Applejack. Her coarse, burnt- orange coat was always dotted with freckles of dirt from a hard day's work on her family's farm, Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was known for her honesty and her strong work ethic, which were as solid as the oak trees that lined the property. Her mane and tail, a fiery shade of red, matched the color of the apples she grew with such care. One sweltering afternoon, Applejack took a break from her chores, wiping the sweat from her brow with a bandana that smelled faintly of apple blossoms. She looked out over the fields, the sun blazing down like a second sun, and sighed. The harvest was coming soon, and she had so much to do. Her thoughts drifted to her friends, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, and the others, and she wondered how they were spending their day. Her contemplation was interrupted by the distant sound of hoofbeats. She shielded her eyes from the glare and saw a figure approaching. As it grew closer, she recognized the purple and white unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, her friend and the town's resident scholar. Twilight looked flustered, her eyes wide with excitement. "Applejack!" Twilight called out, her voice strained from the run. "You won't believe what I've found in the library archives!" Applejack leaned against the fence post, her curiosity piqued. "What is it, Twilight?" Twilight's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I've discovered something absolutely fascinating, Applejack. It's about an ancient artifact called the Element of Honesty!" Applejack's ears perked up at the mention of something old and precious. "The Element of Honesty? What's so special about it?" Twilight paused to catch her breath, her flank heaving. "It's one of the six Elements of Harmony," she began, "each representing one of the core virtues of our world. The Element of Honesty is said to be a rare and powerful artifact that can reveal the truth in any situation. It's been lost for centuries, but I found a map leading to its last known location!" Her voice grew hushed as she unfolded the ancient parchment, its edges yellowed with age. The map was intricate, with swirling symbols and cryptic notations that seemed to dance before Applejack's eyes. "It's somewhere in the Whispering Woods," Twilight whispered, her horn glowing softly as she traced a line over the paper. "Well, shucks," Applejack drawled, "that's a place I've heard plenty of tall tales about, but never actually visited." The wood had a reputation for being eerie and mysterious, a place where whispers of forgotten secrets lingered on the breeze. But the prospect of finding something as important as the Element of Honesty was too tempting to pass up. Twilight's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Applejack, I think we should go look for it. It's not far from here, and who knows what kind of trouble it could prevent if it falls into the wrong hooves?" Applejack nodded, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her gaze. "Alright, but we'd better tell the others. They might want to come along." They gathered their friends, who were equally intrigued by the prospect of an adventure. Pinkie Pie bounced with excitement, Rarity's eyes gleamed with the promise of a new treasure to add to her collection, and Fluttershy looked nervous but determined. Rainbow Dash and Rarity promised to keep an eye on Fluttershy, who had a tendency to get spooked in unfamiliar places. They set out into the late afternoon sun, the map fluttering in Twilight's magic as they followed the path into the wood. The Whispering Woods lived up to their name, with rustling leaves and hushed whispers that seemed to follow them through the dappled shade. The air grew cooler, and the scent of damp earth and pine needles filled their nostrils as they ventured deeper. Suddenly, a shadow flitted through the trees. "Greetings, travelers, I am Aloysius, keeper of the woods' lore." His feathers were the color of moonlit silver, and his eyes held a knowing glint. Twilight stepped forward, the map still clutched in her telekinetic grip. "We're looking for the Element of Honesty," she said with a hint of urgency. "Could you help us?" Aloysius tilted his head, his beak clicking thoughtfully. "Ah, the Element of Honesty," he murmured. "A treasure indeed. But beware, for the woods are not kind to those who seek without pure intentions." The friends exchanged glances, their determination unwavering. Applejack stepped up, her eyes meeting the owl's. "Our intentions are as true as my word. We aim to protect our town and find this artifact before it falls into the wrong hooves." Aloysius studied them for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I will guide you to the spot where the Element lies hidden. But heed my warning: the woods hold secrets, and they do not give them up easily." The group followed the him, their hoofsteps echoing through the quiet wood. The whispers grew louder, and Applejack couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Twilight, ever the scholar, took notes on the various plants and magical phenomena they encountered, while Pinkie Pie chattered away, trying to keep everyone's spirits high. As they ventured further in, the wood grew denser, the path narrower. The light grew dimmer, the sun's rays barely piercing the thick canopy above. The air grew colder, carrying with it a sense of unease that made even Rainbow Dash's wings flutter anxiously. "This place is giving me the creeps," Fluttershy whispered, her eyes darting around nervously. "Don't worry, Fluttershy," Rainbow Dash assured her, "we're all here for you." Aloysius led them to a clearing, where an ancient tree stood tall, its trunk twisted with age. The whispers grew to a crescendo, swirling around the tree's base like a cacophony of secrets yearning to be heard. "Here it is," He announced, his voice barely audible over the din. "The Element of Honesty lies within this tree. But remember, it will only reveal itself to the worthy." Applejack squinted at the tree, her heart racing. The whispers grew so loud, they seemed to form words, urging them to turn back. But she knew they couldn't. "Thanks, Aloysius," she said, turning to her friends. "Let's get to it."

"Honey, wake up," Karen said gently. Her voice was the sweet sound of a lullaby echoing through the silent, sterile room, but Plankton remained unresponsive. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only reply to her soft pleas. She sat by his side, her hand intertwined with his, her thumb brushing the back of his palm. But now, his hand lay limp, a stark contrast to the warmth and strength it usually exuded. The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold, artificial glow on Plankton's pale face. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and the rhythm was the only reassurance Karen had that he was still with her. The doctor had said it was a mild concussion, but the sight of him lying there, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. She knew that she had to stay strong, not just for herself, but for Plankton. The door to the room creaked open, and the doctor stepped in, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He was a young man, his expression a mix of professionalism and concern. He looked at the charts in his hand before glancing up at Karen. "How is he?" he asked. Karen's eyes never left her husband's face as she replied, "The same." The doctor nodded, his eye reflecting the seriousness of the situation. "It's not uncommon for someone with a concussion to sleep longer than usual. We're monitoring him closely, and his vitals are stable. We've given him medication to manage the pain and reduce the swelling." Karen leaned forward, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "But when will he wake up?" she asked, her voice a whisper of hope. The doctor's eyes softened. "It could be hours, or even days. The brain needs time to heal. But rest assured, Mrs. Plankton, we're doing everything we can to ensure a swift and full recovery." Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She didn't want to believe it would take that long, but she knew that patience was the only option she had. She leaned back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. Time stretched out before her, each minute feeling like an eternity. The only sounds in the room were the tick of the clock on the wall and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. The hospital's white walls closed in around her, making her feel trapped in a world where time had ceased to have meaning. Her thoughts raced, playing out every possible scenario in her head, each one more alarming than the last. A nurse came in to check on Plankton, her shoes squeaking against the floor. She offered Karen a kind smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she tended to her husband, checking his bandages and administering fluids through the IV. Karen watched her every move, feeling helpless and out of place. The nurse noticed her distress and offered her a cup of tea, which she accepted with a nod of gratitude. The warm liquid helped soothe her nerves as she took a sip, her eyes never straying from Plankton. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. The silence was broken only by the occasional murmur from the hallway or the rustle of pages as the nurse updated his chart. Karen's mind drifted back to the moments before the accident, the laughter and the joy that seemed so distant now. Plankton had been working on his latest invention, a contraption he swore would revolutionize the fast-food industry. It was a wild tangle of metal and wires, something that only he could understand. Karen had watched him, her curiosity piqued but her technical knowledge barely scratching the surface of his genius. "What does it do?" she had asked, her eyes wide with wonder. He had grinned, his teeth gleaming in the light of the makeshift workshop. "It's a secret," he had said, his voice filled with mischief. Now, as she sat by his side in the hospital room, she wished she had paid more attention. Perhaps then she could have anticipated the malfunction that had sent him to the emergency room with a concussion. Plankton had always been so driven by his ideas, so wrapped up in his world of gadgets and gizmos, that he often forgot the dangers that came with his experiments. It was his passion, and she had always admired it, but in moments like these, she couldn't help but worry. The room grew dimmer as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the floor. Karen's eyes grew heavy, and she fought the urge to sleep. Suddenly, Plankton's eyelid fluttered open, revealing eye that searched the room with confusion. "Where am I?" he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy. Karen's heart leaped into her throat, and she leaned forward, her hand tightening around his. "You're in the hospital, sweetie. You had an accident," she said softly, her voice trembling. Plankton blinked several times, his gaze shifting from the blurry ceiling to Karen's face. Recognition dawned in his eyes, but confusion remained etched on his furrowed brow. "What happened?" he murmured, his voice still weak and groggy. Karen's heart swelled with relief at the sound of his voice. She took a deep breath, then explained the accident as calmly as she could. "You fell while working on your latest invention. You hit your head pretty hard. The doctor said it's just a concussion, but you need to rest." Plankton's eyes searched hers, trying to piece together the puzzle of his foggy memory. "A concussion?" he repeated, his voice a mere whisper. "How long have I been out?" Karen's grip on his hand tightened, her knuckles white. "A few hours, darling. But it's going to be okay." She hoped her words were true, that the fear and doubt didn't seep through. Plankton's gaze was unfocused, his thoughts jumbled. He didn't remember the accident, the pain, or the panic that had brought him here. All he knew was the gentle squeeze of her hand and the sterile scent of the hospital room. As he began to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Karen's other hand shot out to steady him, her eyes filled with concern. "Lie back down, Plankton. You need to rest." He obeyed, his head heavy on the pillow, and his eye fell shut again. The doctor had warned her about the potential side effects of the concussion: confusion, dizziness, and memory loss. It was a strange sight, seeing him so unsure of himself, a stark contrast to the usual confidence that radiated from him. When he opened his eye again, the confusion had deepened. "What's the last thing you remember?" Karen asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye searched the room, as if the answer was hidden in the shadows. "I... I don't remember," he said, his voice filled with a sense of panic that was alien to him. "It's all blank." Karen felt a chill run down her spine. The doctor had mentioned that amnesia was a possibility, but she hadn't allowed herself to believe it would happen to Plankton. "It's okay," she assured him, her voice shaky. Plankton's eye searched hers, desperation flickering in their depths. "What do you mean, I don't remember?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of anxiety brewing within her. "Sometimes with concussions, memories can be a bit jumbled. But don't worry, they'll come back to you." She hoped her reassurance sounded more convincing than it felt. The doctor had warned her that the road to recovery might be bumpy, but she had never anticipated Plankton's memory loss. Her mind raced, trying to think of ways to help him, to fill in the blanks without overwhelming him. "Do you remember anything at all?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton's eye searched the room again, as if the answer was hiding in the corners. "I remember... I remember working," he said, his voice trailing off. "But it's all... fuzzy." Karen felt a pang of sadness at the lost look on her husband's face. She didn't know how to navigate this new, uncharted territory. But she knew she had to be strong for him. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. "You just need to rest." The doctor had instructed her to keep the environment calm and familiar to aid in his recovery. So, she began to speak in soothing tones, telling him stories of their past adventures. Her words painted a picture of a life filled with love and adventure, and she watched as his face relaxed with each passing moment. His breathing grew steadier, his chest rising and falling in a more natural rhythm. The hospital room was a cocoon of beige and white, the only color coming from the bouquet of flowers she had brought from home. Plankton's chest rose and fell in the rhythm of deep sleep, his breathing steady and even. The heart monitor beeped reassuringly, a metronome to the symphony of his rest. His face was peaceful, free from the tension that had gripped it earlier. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she realized the immediate danger had passed. For now, at least, he was safe, and she was grateful for every moment of his peaceful rest. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for now, she was content to sit by his side and enjoy the quiet.

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♪ へ ♪* ╱|、♫ ๋࣭ ⭑ #. ૮ - ՛ ) (` - 7. ♪#*∙ ๋ / ⁻ ៸| ๋࣭ |、⁻〵.”. 乀 (ˍ, ل ل じしˍ,)ノ๋࣭ ⭑

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

[ happy face! ] ★ ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ 〇────── ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ ⇄ « [] » ↻ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

♪〜

⋆⭒˚.⋆♫⋆｡𝄞₊⋆⭒˚♬.⋆

🥀⭑

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

Add song here 0:35 ━❍──────── -5:32 ↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺ VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

/) /) ( ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ) / づ づ ~{ɢᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢɪʀʟғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢɪʀʟғʀɪᴇɴᴅ}

🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🟦🟦🟦🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌 And when I’m back in Chicago I feel it 🌌🌌🌌🟪🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🌌🌌🌌 Another version of me I was in it 🌌🟪🟪🟪🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🌌🌌 I wave goodbye to the end of beginning 🌌🟪🟪🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🌌 goodbye, goodbye, goodbye 🟪🟪🟪🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🌌 🟪🟪🟪🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 . ݁₊ ⊹ ˖ ☆ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 🟪🟪🟪🟪🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🌌🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🌌 🌌🟦🌌🟪🌌🟦🌌🟪🌌🟪🟪🌌🟦🟪🌌 🌌🟦🌌🟪🌌🟦🌌🟪🌌🟦🌌🟦🌌🟪🌌 🌌🟪🟦🟪🟪🟦🌌🟪🌌🟪🟪🌌🟦🟪🌌 🌌🟪🌌🟪🟪🌌🌌🟪🌌🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌🟪 🌌🟦🌌🌌🟪🌌🟪🟪🌌🌌🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌 🌌🌌🌌🌌🟪🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌 🌌🌌🌌🌌🟪🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌 🌌🌌🌌🟪🟪🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌🌌 🌌🌌🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🟪🟪🌌🌌🌌🌌 🌌🌌🌌🟪🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆♪♫~✩♬₊˚.♪♫~♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ❤️️ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ🎧🎧🎧🎶🎶🎧ྀི🎧ྀི↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺♪★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡๋࣭ ⭑⚝♪♡𓍯𓂃𓏧♡🎧ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ᝰ.ᐟ✩♬ ₊˚.જ⁀➴×͜×◎︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

❤️🫀🎶🎤𓍯𓂃𓏧♡₊ ⊹˚ʚ♡ɞ˚١٥٧٤♡♡ ‪‪❤︎‬🤍🫶🏻♬ ♪ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.‎ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆ ‎♪ ⋆⁺⌑~♬♪܀⊹

@..! Move it! Kashira is coming through!! [🐆] -> "..[ TEST ].." [🐆] Ugh! Kashira is the queen

✧ ﾟ.🎧⋆｡°✩‎‧₊˚

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆★🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✧˖°.⋆⭒˚.⋆

🎤🎙️🎧

𝄞

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 🎶

“ 🎸 🎧 🎀 ” “music, cute, aesthetic, stars”

🎷🐛

⊹ ࣪ ˖🎤♡♬⊹ ࣪ ˖

∩――――∩ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 || ∧ ﾍ　 || 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 || (* ´ ｰ`) | 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞 |ﾉ^⌒⌒づ`￣ \ 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧’ 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 (　ノ　　⌒ ヽ \ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 ＼　　||￣￣￣￣￣|| 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮? 　 ＼,ﾉ|| 𝐬𝐨, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ‘𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫? '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐲 ♥ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 ⭐ 𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐲 ♥ 𝐈 ♥ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ®

sound ❚❚ ❚❚ ❚❚ ❚❚ ❚❚ ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) ❚❚ ❚❚ ❚❚ ❚❚ ᯤ ᯤ ❚❚

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʙᴏɴɴɪᴇ & ᴄʟʏᴅᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴏʀ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆★🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✧˖°.⋆⭒˚.⋆♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬ﾟ.🩹🎧🎵‧₊˚🩵✩ ₊˚🌐⊹♡‧₊˚🖇✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ 🎧💿🖇 ⋆.✮🎧✮ .⋆✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

₊˚♬✩ 𝑰’𝒎 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆, 𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑰’𝒎 𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𓏲𝄢 ✩♬ ₊˚.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🎧 ✧˚. 🎶 ༘⋆

₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ﾟ ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

𝑰’𝒎 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 🌿 ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ'ᴍ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ 🐾 𝒮𝓀𝒾𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 ℴ𝓌𝓃 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒹ℴ𝓌𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 🍄‍🟫 𝐀𝗌 𝗂 ρⱺυ𐓣𝖼𝖾 αᑲⱺ𝗏𝖾 𝗍ɦ𝖾 ᥣαυ𐓣ᑯ𝗋𝗒 𝗍ɦα𝗍 𝚰’𝗏𝖾 ɦαᑯ 𝗌𝗂𐓣𝖼𝖾 𝖿αᥣᥣ~ 🍂 ᴵ’ᵐ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ, 🌱 ᗯE ᗪOᑎ’T ᖇEᗩᒪᒪY ᑕᗩᖇE Iᖴ TᕼEᖇE’ᔕ ᗩ ᒪOT Oᖴ YOᑌ ᕼᗩTEᖇᔕ ⭐️ 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 🦴 Ⱥs̷ ɨ ᵽøᵾn̷ȼɇ a̷ƀøvɇ ŧħɇ ła̷ᵾn̷đɍɏ ŧħa̷ŧ Ɨ’vɇ ħa̷đ s̷ɨn̷ȼɇ fa̷łł~ 🌻

ᯓ★♫ᯤ🎧ᯤ♫ᯓ★

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣿⣦⡀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢠⣿⡟⡿⢻⡏⢹⡿⣿⣷⣤⡙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣾⣿⢁⠇⣸⡅⣿⣇⣿⣇⣿⣿⣶⣝⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⣿⣽⡼⠶⠛⣛⣛⡻⢿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣏⡔⢀⡴⢋⣉⣩⡻⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⢿⣿⠀⣿⢿⠇⣼⠀⣞⢁⠌⣿⠉⣿⠊⢻⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣞⡭⢨⠏⣼⣿⢸⡤⣼⢄⣙⢉⡠⠋⣼⣿⢧⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣈⣈⣡⣴⣿⣿⠘⠈⠪⢅⣀⣀⠤⠚⠉⣀⣠⣑⣄⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣰⠀⠰⠀⠈⢻⠃⢴⡿⠚⢻⡍⡟⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣃⣛⠈⢻⣿⣷⣾⠀⢸⣴⣶⢿⢿⠇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⢿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣉⣛⠿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠙⠛⠃⢤⠈⠻⠿⠋⣸⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣏⣁⠤⠄⠒⠂⠀⢻⠀⢠⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⣿⣷⣄⣀⠸⣷⣶⣾⡞⠀⡠⠻⣏⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⡿⠓⠀⢉⡠⢔⠢⠒⢻⡅⢿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⣿⣿⣿⢻⢿⡿⣿⣾⣿⣇⠑⣷⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⢀⣴⢟⣃⢭⣙⠿⣿⡿⣿ ⣿⣿⡆⠒⡾⠁⣀⣴⠶⡫⠟⣳⡈⠻⠿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠀⠀⠘⠛⣉⣉⡙⠛⢿⡿⠋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢠⡾⡑⢦⡉⡻⣿⣦⣾⣷⣄ ⣿⣿⡏⢀⠈⠄⣀⣠⠤⣶⡿⢰⣸⠯⢖⣠⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢀⣴⡛⢧⢸⣆⡹⣦⡿⢧⠞⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣤⣶⡈⣉⡘⢉⠬⠚⣋⡤⠚⣵⢣⡜⣽⢩⣿⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠓⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠈⠉⢉⣥⡴⢞⠹⡌⡏⢈⣿⢿⣟⡜⣷⡾⣿⢿⣿ ⣿⣿⣏⣁⣤⣤⠀⠈⠜⢲⣎⣥⠶⢛⡡⣪⣼⣿⢺⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡯⣟⠍⣝⡝⢹⡿⣴⠈⡞⢷⣇⣻⣋⣼⣿⠀⣿⡇⣿⢸⠿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣁⡄⢠⣴⣽⢏⡟⣶⠊⣠⡾⣻⡇⢸⣿⣿⠄⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣼⢁⢎⣜⠎⣡⡿⣹⣿⡔⣟⠘⣧⣯⠉⣿⡏⠖⠹⣿⡿⠻⣾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠻⣿⡿⢉⡞⡰⠃⣽⡟⢑⣿⣣⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢅⣻⣤⢴⣿⣀⢿⣿⣿⡎⢻⢿⣿⠀⡾⢽⣟⣶⠿⣷⠤⢛ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣀⠀⠛⠿⣿⠇⣯⣼⡿⢠⣿⣻⣿⡥⢾⣟⢸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣴⡟⢇⣰⣉⣠⣜⠋⢻⢥⣾⠃⡿⡶⠼⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠠⣄⢨⣽⣿⣿⣧⣼⣿⣷⣏⣺⣏⢾⡻⡆⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⡟⢲⣿⣿⠫⣶⠻⡑⣷⣤⠲⢶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣤ ⣿⣿⡟⠋⠙⢽⣿⡇⢹⡏⠿⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣶⣷⣤⣜⣀⣠⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.₊˚ʚᗢ₊˚✧ﾟ.

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ📀🎼↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺𓇢𓆸

.° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.

"Honey, did you take out the trash?" Karen called out to the living room. The only reply was the distant sound of the TV playing a sitcom laugh track. She sighed. Going into the living room, Karen found her husband, Plankton, sprawled out on the couch, snoring lightly. The TV's blue light flickered over his face. She looked around the room, the piles of laundry, the dusty bookshelves, and the half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table. It was a mess, but she knew better than to wake him. Plankton had been working long hours at the chum factory lately, trying to make ends meet. His snoring grew louder, and she felt a wave of affection mixed with concern. Gently, she covered his legs with a blanket and bent to kiss his forehead. He stirred slightly but didn't wake up. In the kitchen, Karen grabbed a cup of coffee, the warmth and aroma grounding her for the evening ahead. The fridge hummed a low lullaby, reminding her of the chores left to do. The sink was full of dirty dishes, remnants of dinner. A pot with half-eaten chum congealed on the stovetop. Karen rolled up her sleeves, determined to tackle the chaos. She knew Plankton was exhausted from work. The clanking of pots and pans echoed through the tiny kitchen as she washed and sorted, her mind racing with thoughts of their future. A knock at the door startled her. She dried her hands on a towel, leaving wet spots like tears on the fabric. It was Hanna, her best friend since high school. Karen had not seen Hanna in weeks, and the sight of her brought a smile. Hanna was a burst of energy. "Hi, Karen! How's it going?" Hanna's voice was a mix of sweetness and the sharpness of someone who had seen too much of the world. She scanned the room, taking in the clutter, the stale smell of overworked air, and Plankton's snoring. "Hey, Hanna," Karen managed, her voice soft to not disturb his sleep. "It's been a bit hectic, but we're making do." Hanna stepped in, eyeing the mess sympathetically. "Looks like you could use a hand," she said, already grabbing a dish towel. Karen's smile grew. "You read my mind. Thanks." Hanna tossed the towel over her shoulder, ready to jump into the fray. "You know me," she said with a wink. "I've never been one to shy away from a mess." The two of them worked side by side, the rhythm of their movements harmonizing as they cleared the kitchen. Karen felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease as Hanna filled the room with stories of her latest adventures, a welcome distraction from the monotony of chores. As the last plate was put away, the fridge closed with a satisfying click, Karen leaned against the counter. Hanna looked at her. "You've been carrying a lot, haven't you?" she asked, her voice gentle. Karen nodded, her eyes welling up. "It's just that with Plankton's job, and the bills..." Hanna pulled her into a tight hug. "I know, sweetie. You're doing the best you can." They sat down in the living room, the clean kitchen a testament to their friendship's strength. Hanna's screen searched Karen's for a sign of the spark that used to be there. "I can't remember the last time we went out together," Hanna said. "You two deserve a break." Karen's screen lit up at the suggestion, but quickly dimmed. "We can't afford it," she said, sighing. "Not with the overtime Plankton's been doing." Hanna leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, I might have a little surprise for you," she said. Karen looked up, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" Hanna pulled out a small envelope from her pocket and handed it to her friend. "A gift," she said with a sly smile. "A check from my winning lottery ticket." Karen's eyes widened as she opened the envelope. "Hanna, no!" she protested. "You can't just give us your winnings!" Hanna's smile didn't waver. "I can, and I want to. You've been there for me through everything. It's about time I returned the favor. Besides," she said with a wink, "what's a little chum between friends?" Karen's hands trembled as she read the check. It was more than enough to cover their rent and bills for several months. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she hugged Hanna tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. The weight of financial stress lifted slightly from her shoulders, replaced by a warmth that spread through her chest. For a moment, the world didn't seem so overwhelming. Hanna pulled back, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, don't spend it all in one place," she teased. Karen laughed, the sound small but genuine. "I won't," she promised, the check clutched in her hand. "We'll use it wisely." The two of them sat quietly for a while, enjoying the rare moment of peace. The TV had switched to the news, and the low murmur of the anchor's voice filled the room. Plankton's snoring had become a comforting white noise. Hanna looked at Plankton, her expression thoughtful. "You know, I've always admired the way you take care of him," she said. "It can't be easy." Karen nodded, her thumb tracing the edges of the check. "It's not," she admitted. "But he's my Plankton. I love him, even when he's exhausting." Her gaze drifted to the sleeping form of her husband. Plankton's snores grew more even, his face finally relaxed. The lines of stress that usually pinched his features had smoothed out in sleep. Karen knew that Plankton had always dreamed of more than his life at the chum factory could offer. He was a man of ambition, his spirit too large for the cramped quarters they called home. Her thoughts turned to the gift from Hanna. The check represented more than just money; it was a beacon of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could finally start working towards those dreams.

💄💋👄👯 "lipstick sassy"

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| |

Dr. McDermott's dental office. Plankton had been in surgery for wisdom teeth. The receptionist, a young woman named "Samantha," was going up to Karen. "Your husband is to be taken to the recovery," she said, her voice gentle and soothing. Karen nodded. Samantha led her down. Plankton was laid out on a narrow bed, his mouth open slightly. "He's still under," Samantha whispered, "but going to start bringing him out of it now. Waking is a gradual process so.." Karen nodded. She watched as a nurse approached, deftly adjusting tubes and machines connected to him. The nurse flicked a switch and began to decrease the flow. The anesthesia diminished. Plankton's chest continued to rise and fall rhythmically, his eye remained closed. Karen reached out and took his hand, her thumb brushing against his. She squeezed gently, hoping it might provide some comfort, or at least a thread of familiarity, as he began his journey back to consciousness. A few moments later, Plankton's hand twitched ever so slightly in response. "It's ok honey," she whispered, though she knew he couldn't hear. A nurse, named Margaret, offered an assuring smile. "It's normal for it to take time. Just keep talking to him, it'll help." Karen leaned closer, her voice barely above a murmur. "Remember our first date?" she began. Plankton's snore was the only response. "Don't worry, he'll come around soon. Anesthesia can take a while to wear off. And when he does, he'll be groggy. It's like waking up from a deep sleep." Her thoughts drifted to Plankton's snoring, a comforting sound. She squeezed his hand again, trying to will him to wake with her touch. Then, to her surprise, she heard a murmur. "Mm, chum... so... much... chum..." The nurse, Margaret, gave her a knowing look. "It's common for patients to talk in their sleep as they come out of it. Sometimes they say the darndest things." Karen smiles. "Chum?" she repeated, "Is that what you're dreaming about?" "Needff... chum..." "You're ok," she whispered, her voice filled with relief. "You're just dreaming, sweetie." "Chum... I... I nee to... get ith," he slurred. Karen's smile grew, his nonsensical words bringing a small spark of comfort. "You're dreaming about work," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. The nurse, Margaret, checked the monitors and nodded. "His vitals look good. He'll be fine," she assured. "Remember the first time you made me a Patty?" she asked, her voice soothing. Plankton's grip on her hand tightened slightly, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. "Ith... Ith was’at..." he mumbled. It wasn't often she heard him express his feelings so openly, especially not about her. "What was it, honey?" she prompted, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Youw... youwre the... the besht... the... besht..." his voice trailed off again into snores. Karen chuckled with affection. It was clear he was talking about her, despite the garbled speech. She leaned in closer. "I'm right here," she whispered. Plankton's sleep-talk grew, his grip on her hand tightening. "Pro-tec... the secret... chum... fwom... Plankton..." "You're safe," she said, her voice a soothing whisper. "You don't have to worry about the recipe now." Plankton's slurred words continued. "Fwom... Plankton... ith... ith... my... my... hearth..." It was almost as if he was speaking to it, whispering sweet nothings in his sleep. "Your... your heart?" she repeated uncertainly, trying to make sense of his words. Plankton's chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, his hand still clutching hers tightly. A faint moan escaped Plankton's lips, and his eye began to flutter open. His eye searched the room, unfocused and glazed. He blinked slowly, a look of confusion spreading across his face. The nurse stood by, monitoring, ready to intervene if needed. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. She squeezed his hand tighter and leaned in, her voice as gentle as a lullaby. "Hi, sweetie. It's all over now. You're in the recovery room." Plankton's eye searched hers, still clouded with sleep. "Wha... wha' happen'd?" he managed to ask. "You had your wisdom teeth removed," Karen said softly. "You're ok now." Plankton's eye grew clearer as his mind slowly surfaced from the depths of unconsciousness. He blinked again, looking around the room. "Why... why awe youw smiling?" "You were talking in your sleep," she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice. "It was just sweet." Plankton's eye searched hers. "Wha'did I shay?" "You said a lot of things," she replied, her smile lingering. "But the most important part was that you said I was the best." The corner of Plankton's mouth twitched into a weak smile. "Yeah?" he murmured, his voice still slurred. "Well, thath's twue." With Margaret's help, Karen managed to get Plankton into a more upright position. His head lolled slightly before he found his bearings, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. "How do you feel?" Karen asked, her voice full of concern. "Woozy," Plankton mumbled. With Margaret's guidance, Karen helped Plankton to stand, his legs wobbly. He leaned heavily on her, the anesthesia still clouding his movements. She felt his weight and knew that he would need her support to navigate the short walk to the car. "Let's go slow," she said, her voice steady and calm. Plankton nodded, his eye still half-lidded with sleep. They shuffled along the hallway, each step a victory over his grogginess. As they approached the door leading to the parking lot, Plankton swayed. Karen tightened her grip, for his head lolled to the side, and she caught him. "Whoa, honey," she said. Plankton's legs buckled slightly, and his head dropped to her shoulder, his weight pressing against her. Karen steadied him, her arms wrapping around to keep him upright. His breathing was deep and even, eye fighting to stay open. "You can't sleep now," she said, trying to keep the laughter from her voice. "We're not even home yet." With Margaret's help, they made their way to the car, Karen's arm supporting Plankton's weight. "Let's get you buckled in," she said, guiding him to the passenger seat. Plankton complied, his movements still sluggish and uncoordinated. With a gentle push, Karen secured the seatbelt across his chest. His head lolled back against the headrest, and for a moment, she thought he might fall back asleep, but managed to keep his eye open as she starts the engine. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Plankton's eye drifted shut. "We're almost home." Karen says as Plankton's head lolled back against the headrest. She took a hand off the wheel to pat his leg reassuringly. "You can sleep when we get there." Yet Plankton's snores filled the car, punctuating the silence. Karen couldn't help but look over at him, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep. "Wake up, sweetie," Karen whispered, gently shaking Plankton. He stirred, his eye blinking open with difficulty. "We're home," she said. Plankton groaned. "Careful," she warned. They shuffled inside, Karen guiding him. The smell of home hit them, a mix of saltwater and the faint scent of cooking from the restaurant next door. "Come on, honey," she said, half-guiding, half-carrying him to their bedroom. Karen helped him lie downs. He let out a deep sigh. "Thathks," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Karen settled Plankton into bed, his head resting on the soft pillows, his body limp and heavy with the weight of the anesthesia. She took his other hand and squeezed gently. As they lay there, she noticed a small pool of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. Karen couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension of the day dissipating. She reached for a tissue from the bedside table and gently wiped the drool away. Plankton snuffled, his eye shooting open for a moment before closing again. "Don't worry," she whispered, stroking his forehead. "You're safe. You can go back to sleep now." Plankton's head lolled to the side, and drool grew more insistent, a silent testament to his deep slumber. Karen grabbed another tissue, wiping the saliva that trickled down his chin, his snores rumbling. With each tissue, the intimacy grew, the act of caring for him in this vulnerable state somehow endearing. She felt a tenderness for him that was usually overshadowed by their daily squabbles and the relentless pursuit of the Krabby Patty's secret recipe. As Plankton's snores grew softer, his grip on her hand loosened. Karen gently pulled her hand free and covered him with the blanket. She took a moment to gaze at his peaceful face. It was a side of him she rarely saw, and she found it surprisingly comforting. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the forehead, whispering, "I love you, even when you're drooling." Karen knew Plankton would be out for hours, so she decided to use the time to prepare a light meal for when he woke. She moved quietly to the kitchen, not wanting to disturb him. She rummaged, looking for something soft that wouldn't irritate his sore mouth. In the fridge, she found a bowl of Plankton's favorite jellyfish jello, a treat she had made the night before knowing he wouldn't be able to eat much solid food. Then, she pulled out a loaf of bread and a jar of jelly, carefully making a few soft, fluffy sandwiches that she hoped would be easy for him to chew. Next, she grabbed a few of Plankton's favorite books from the living room. She placed them on the bedside table, along with a glass of water, within arm's reach. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace settle over her as she listened to his rhythmic snores. Despite the stress of the day, she was grateful for the quiet moments like these.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧

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😺💖🎤♡

🎤 😫

⇄ ◀ 𓊕 ▶ ↻⇄ ◀ 𓊕 ▶ ↻

‎ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆ ‎♪ ⋆⁺‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i (Autistic author) "You know, Shel, just put yourself out there. You think to much! Just steal a patty from the krusty krab, and bring it back. No inventions, just believe. I'll wait out front." Karen says. Sheldon Plankton, whose ambition often outstripped his grasp, took a deep breath and nodded. It was a simple enough plan, he thought, and maybe, just maybe, it would be enough. For years he'd been trying to outsmart Mr. Krabs, crafting ingenious contraptions and elaborate schemes to swipe the Krabby Patty secret formula. Yet here he was, standing in the shadow of the gleaming neon sign of the Chum Bucket, his own restaurant, contemplating the unthinkable: a straight-up heist. He tiptoed to the Krabby Krab, eye darting back and forth for any signs of movement. Karen, ever the impatient one, was pacing back and forth outside the Chum Bucket. She had been waiting for what felt like an eternity. "What's taking him so long?" she murmured to herself, her frustration building. Meanwhile, Plankton took a final shaky breath and slid open the kitchen window, his heart racing. The scent of greasy fryers and salty ocean air filled his nostrils. He reached out, his tiny hand trembling, and snatched the Krabby Patty that lay unguarded on the counter. With the stolen patty in hand, Plankton's confidence grew. He had done it; the secret was within his grasp! He turned to leave, but his elation was cut short when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to find Mr. Krabs standing there, his eyes narrowed and his claw raised. "Plankton, I knew it was you!" he bellowed. Plankton froze. Mr. Krabs lunged at him, but Plankton was quick. He dashed under the cash register, the Krabby Patty clutched to his chest like a football player crossing the finish line. "You'll never get me!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet restaurant. But Krabs was persistent, his claws snapping shut just millimeters from Plankton's antennae. With a cunning smile, Mr. Krabs stepped back eyeing the cash register. "Maybe not," he said reaching over the counter and hoisting the heavy metal contraption off its stand. Plankton's eye went wide with horror as he realized what Krabs intended to do. He tried to dodge, but the space was too cramped, and the cash register came down on him like a guillotine blade. The sound of metal on metal reverberated through the kitchen, and the Krabby Patty went flying out of his grasp. Mr. Krabs' victory roar filled the room as Plankton crumpled to the floor, stars dancing in his vision. The impact had been tremendous, and for a moment, he lay dazed and defeated. The cash register's heavy weight had not only knocked him out cold but also left a sizable dent in the floorboards. Outside, Karen's pacing grew more erratic. as "What's keeping him?" she groused. Just as she was about to storm inside, she hears the cash register, which hit Plankton's head. Peering in she saw Plankton lying on the floor. "Plankton?" she shrieked, her voice cracking with panic. Karen opens the door and goes to him. "Plankton! Oh no!" she screamed, voice shaking the very foundation of the Krabby Krab. She rushed over to him, shaking with fear. Plankton's eye closed, and his body was completely still. The Patty lay forgotten. Panic set in, and she began to pat his face. "Plankton, wake up!!" she yelled, echoing through the deserted kitchen. She knew that Plankton could be dramatic, but this was unlike him. He'd always bounced back from Mr. Krabs' traps before, albeit with a bruised ego. There was a pulse, faint but steady. "Thank Neptune," she whispered, her relief palpable. "Plankton, please," Karen begged, a mix of desperation and fear. She knew she had to do something, and fast. But what? Her medical expertise was limited to patching up her husband's bruises from past failed schemes, not dealing with a concussion from a cash register to the head. She then managed to scoop up her unconscious husband and sprinted to the Bikini Bottom Hospital. Once inside the hospital, she explained what happened with the cash register. "We'll do a brain scan." They said. Karen laid Plankton on the hospital bed. Finally a doctor approached with a solemn expression. "The brain scan results are in." Karen nodded for him to go on. "It seems your husband has suffered significant brain damage from impact," the doctor continued, fidgeting with a clipboard. "The good news is that he will wake up, but... your husband has experienced severe brain trauma. While he will regain consciousness, it appears that he may have developed permanent autism." "What does that mean?" she managed to whisper. The doctor explained that while Plankton would still be able to talk and/or communicate, his interactions and reactions to sensory would be significantly affected. "But he'll still be the same Plankton?" The doctor nods. "In many ways, yes. His personality, his memories, they should all be intact. But his ability to process, to understand and respond appropriately... those might be altered. It's a complex condition, Mrs. Plankton. He can go home whence he wakes up." Karen nodded numbly, mind racing with the implications. As she sat by Plankton's bedside the hospital lights flickered, and the constant beeping of the heart monitor was the only company she had. The quiet was broken her husband's eye fluttering open. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from the trauma. Her heart leaped at the sound, and she took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'm here," she said, her voice cracking. "How do you feel?" Plankton's gaze darted around the room. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and fear. "You're at the hospital, sweetie," Karen replied, voice gentle and soothing. "You had hit your head on the cash register at the Krabby Krab." Karen said, her voice shaking slightly. "Mr. Krabs hit you." Plankton blinked rapidly, trying to process her words. "Cash... register?" he murmured, voice sounding distant and confused. Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving his. The room was a cacophony of sounds: the beep of the monitor, the rustle of nurses' shoes, and the distant wail of a siren. Plankton's senses seemed to amplify, each noise stabbing at his brain like a thousand tiny needles. "What happened to me?" he asked, voice small and scared. Karen took a deep breath preparing herself to explain the gravity of the situation. "You hit your head," she began, "and now, the doctor says you have... acquired a neurodisability." Plankton stared at her, his eyes unfocused. "Neuro... what?" he repeated. Karen took a deep breath, her heart heavy. "It's like your brain is wired differently now. You might see things, hear things, feel things more intensely. And sometimes, you might not understand people, or process differently." "Does it... does it mean I'm broken?" he asked, voice barely a whisper. "No, Plankton," she said firmly, "You're not broken. You're just... different. And we'll figure this out together."

♫ ٩(ˊᗜˋ)و lalala!!

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♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH vi "I... I just want to make sure he's ok," Krabs said. "He's not in a good place right now," Karen admitted. "Tell him... I didn't mean to embarrass him, that I'm sorry for... everything." "I'll let him know," she said. Heading into the bedroom she found Plankton fast asleep, his face a picture of peace amidst the chaos of his mind, a stark contrast to the turmoil she knew was churning within him. She knew waking him would only stir up more pain and anger, so she decided to let him rest. Karen sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the gentle snores a soothing soundtrack to the quiet room. She reached out to brush his antennae, with love and concern. Karen knew this wisdom teeth extraction had taken a toll on him, but she had no idea the depth of his embarrassment til she saw the photo. The next morning, Plankton woke to Karen's gentle humming. The stiffness in his jaw had subsided to a dull throb. As he sat up, the events of the previous day crashed down on him like a tidal wave. Karen turned, her smile fading as she took in his expression. "You're up," she said tentatively. Plankton nodded, jaw still aching. "Krabs called," Karen said, breaking the silence. Plankton's eye snapped to hers, his body tensing. "What." Karen took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice calm. "He said he's sorry for everything," she replied, her voice measured. "And that he didn't mean to embarrass you." Plankton stared at her, his jaw clenched. Karen understood the depth of his pain. "Maybe it wasn't about embarrassment," she suggested gently. "Maybe he was just trying to help." Plankton snorted, but the anger in his eye was fading, replaced by something closer to defeat. "Help." he repeated. "From Krabs!" Karen nodded. "He seemed genuinely concerned," she said. "And he did bring over those jellyfish for you." Plankton's skeptical, but didn't argue. Mr. Krabs wasn't exactly known for warm and fuzzy moments. But the idea that he had shown any care was unsettling. He always seen Krabs as the epitome of greed and self-interest, this newer side as unwelcome as the pain in his mouth. But as the day wore on, Plankton couldn't shake the feeling there's more to the story. Despite pride, he was curious about what happened between them. He knew he had to confront Krabs to set things straight, to regain some semblance of control over. So, when Mr. Krabs appeared at the chum bucket door, unannounced and looking unusually nervous, Plankton's curiosity won over. He begrudgingly let him in, posture stiff. Mr. Krabs fidgeted, his claws twitching as he looked around the cluttered room. "Plankton," he began, his voice tentative. "I know I've not always been the... the most sensitive crab in the sea, but I never meant to cause ye distress." Plankton's eye narrowed. "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice gruff. Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws fidgeting. "I just... I wanted to apologize," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For the photo. For... everything." Plankton's eye never left Mr. Krabs' face. "You had no right," he said, his voice cold. Mr. Krabs swallowed. "I know," he admits. "But I didn't mean for it to go viral. Pearl... she's young, she doesn't understand the implications." Mr. Krabs shifted uncomfortably. "I don't expect anything," he said. "But I want to explain. You were in a lot of pain, and I just... I just wanted to help." Plankton's expression unyielding. "And what exactly?" Mr. Krabs took a step back, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Well, you were delirious," he began. "You talked a bit, but it was mostly nonsense." Plankton wasn't satisfied. "I want details?" Mr. Krabs sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. "You talked about the good ol' days," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And how, despite our rivalry, we've always had a... a sort of respect for each other." Plankton felt a flicker of something in his chest, but pushed it aside. "Respect?" he sneered. "You expect me to believe that?" Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes earnest. "It's the truth," he said. "You talked about how we've been through a lot together, even though we're enemies." Plankton felt his anger dissipate with a strange curiosity. "Why?" he asked, his voice softer. "Why would I?" Mr. Krabs shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe anesthesia brought out some hidden feelings?" Plankton's antennae quivered with irritation. "Hidden feelings!" he echoed. "You're telling me I have feelings for you?" Mr. Krabs' face flushed a deep red. "No, no, no!" he sputtered, holding up his claws defensively. "It's just... you were out of it, Plankton, unable to know what you were saying." But Plankton wasn't letting it go. "I need to know," he insisted, his voice low and intense. "What did I say to you?" Mr. Krabs squirmed, his eyes darting around the room. "It's... it's nothing, really," he stammered. "Just random, incoherent babble." But Plankton's gaze was unyielding. "Tell me," he demanded. Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, eyes downcast. "You called me your... your best friend," he murmured. "And you said you admire me." Plankton's eye bulged, his antennae standing straight up. "Admired you?" he echoed, his voice incredulous. Mr. Krabs nodded, his cheeks burning. "Yes," he said, his voice barely audible. "But it was just the medication, I'm sure." Plankton's mind reeled at the revelation. Best friend? Admired? Inconceivable. He had spent his life plotting against Mr. Krabs, trying to steal the Krabby Patty secret, and here he was, confessing his admiration and friendship? A nightmare. "Why would I?" he croaked, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. Mr. Krabs shuffled his feet. "I told ya," he repeated. "You were out of it, babbling about all sorts of things." But Plankton's mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of his subconscious. "What else did I do?" he pressed, his voice tight. Mr. Krabs fidgeted, his eyes darting around the room. "You... you also thanked me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For being here." Plankton's jaw dropped, his arms flailing. "Thanked you?" he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. "What, exactly?" Mr. Krabs squirmed, his eyes darting around the room. "You said I was a... friend," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And that you were grateful for my help." Plankton quivered with rage. "Grateful?" he spat, his voice filled with revulsion. "To you?" Mr. Krabs looked down at his claws, his eyes pleading. "I know it's hard to believe," he said. "But you were in a lot of pain, and the medication can do funny things." Plankton's mind raced, trying to process this new information. He had always seen Mr. Krabs as the epitome of everything he despised: greedy, selfish, and always one step ahead in their eternal dance for the Krabby Patty secret. But here he was, describing a moment Plankton couldn't even remember. "What else?" Plankton demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "What other humiliating things?" Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to meet Plankton's. "Well, you dozed off during my story," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "You leaned against me, and before I knew it, you were out cold." Plankton's tentacles stilled, his mind racing with the absurdity of the situation. "Story time?" he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. "I fell asleep on your shoulder?" Mr. Krabs nodded, his face a picture of awkwardness. "It was quite... unexpected," he said, his eyes darting around the room. "But you seemed to enjoy it." Plankton stared at him, his mind reeling. "What was the story?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. Mr. Krabs' cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "It was about... You, per your request." Plankton's eye widened. Mr. Krabs nodded, turning a shade of red that matched his shell. "Yeah," he said, his voice small. "You said you liked the sound of my voice. It's the anesthesia," he said, his voice gentle. "It can do funny things to a body, make 'em say and do things they wouldn't normally." Plankton tightened around the ice pack, his mind racing. He had always seen Mr. Krabs as his sworn enemy, the one who stood between him and the Krabby Patty secret. But here was Krabs, describing a moment of intimacy that was as far from their usual interactions as the moon was from the ocean floor. Mr. Krabs cleared his throat, in discomfort. "It's alright, Plankton," he said, his voice gruff. "It's not something anyone needs to know about." But Plankton was insistent, his curiosity piqued. "I need to know," he said, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. "How did it happen?" Mr. Krabs sighed, eyes dropping to the floor. "Well," he began, his voice halting. "You seemed to get tired," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your eye closed, and your head just... kind of fell onto my shoulder." Plankton's antennae twitched with discomfort, his cheeks burning. "And?" "Well, you were in pain," he said, his voice gruff. "I didn't want to disturb you ." Karen watched the exchange from the doorway. She knew Plankton was tough, but this was a side of him she had never seen before. Vulnerable and exposed. "Mr. Krabs," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Thank you for coming over." Mr. Krabs looked up, his eyes darting to her before returning to Plankton. "It's no trouble, Karen," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I just wanted to make sure he's okay." Karen nodded, her gaze never leaving Plankton's face. "I think we can handle it from here," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. Mr. Krabs' eyes darted between the two of them, fidgeting. "If... if there's anything I can do," he offered, his voice trailing off. Karen gave a small smile filled with gratitude. "I think we got it from here," she said. "But thank you for caring."

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