Moviecore Emojis & Text

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY ix (Autistic author) Plankton's smile flickers back to life, his eye lighting up slightly. "Good," he says, a monotone echo. "Friend." Sponge Bob nods, his smile genuine despite the sadness still lingering in his eyes. "Always," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "Well, what should we do now?" Plankton's gaze shifts to the book, then to Sponge Bob. "Movie," he says, his voice picking up a hint of excitement. "Friend watch movie." His hands flap in a pattern that seems to mirror his thoughts racing. Sponge Bob's smile is a mix of relief and excitement. "Movie?" he repeats, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, let's watch a movie! What do you want to see?" Plankton's eye dart around the room, his hands flapping in a flurry of indecision. "You choose," he says, his voice a monotone. "You know me." His antennas twitch with anticipation. Sponge Bob's smile is filled with understanding. "Okay, then," he says, his voice calm. He scans the bookshelf, looking for a title that might spark Plankton's interest. "How about this one?" he asks, holding up a DVD case with a picture of the Dirty Bubble on the front. Plankton's antennas perk up, eyelighting up at the sight of the villainous bubble's grinning face. "Yes," he says, his voice a monotone. "Dirty Bubble." His hands flap in excitement. Sponge Bob's heart squeezes with love and concern for his unique friend. "Alright, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "Let's watch 'The Great Dirty Bubble Heist'." He pops the DVD into the player, the machine whirring to life. The two of them settle on the couch, Sponge Bob's arm draped protectively around Plankton's shoulder. Plankton's hands are still, his gaze fixed on the screen as the movie starts. The TV flickers to life, casting a warm glow over the room. Sponge Bob feels Plankton's body relax slightly against his side, his eyes never leaving the colorful bubble of the Dirty Bubble's latest escapade. As the movie plays, Plankton's flapping subsides, his gaze transfixed by the screen. The sounds of bubbles popping and laughter fill the room, a stark contrast to the silence that typically accompanied their stakeouts at the Chum Bucket. Sponge Bob feels Plankton's body relax further into the couch, his shoulder leaning into him. He notices Plankton's antennas twitch slightly with every joke, his eye flickering with understanding at the slapstick humor. It's a small sign of connection, but it's enough. The movie's plot unfolds, and Plankton's chuckles echo through the room, his laughter a comforting reminder of their long-standing friendship. Sponge Bob smiles, watching Plankton react to the familiar beats of the film's storyline. It's clear his friend's love for the simple pleasure of laughter hasn't changed. As the film progresses, Plankton's chuckles grow softer, his eyelid drooping as he's nestled against Sponge Bob. He's falling asleep, his mind finally at ease in the comforting embrace of his friend. His head lolls to the side, his antennas coming to rest on Sponge Bob's arm. His mouth has fall open slightly, his breaths even and deep. Sponge Bob's heart swells with tenderness, watching Plankton's face. He gently shifts his position, adjusting the small blanket over Plankton to keep him warm. The TV's light continues to flicker across their faces, casting shadows on the walls. Sponge Bob doesn't want to wake him; instead, he takes the moment to study his friend's newfound peace. Plankton's antennas, usually a blur of activity, are still, his breaths deep and rhythmic. Sponge Bob notices the slightest tremble in his friend's hand, now resting on the couch cushion. He gently takes it in his, intertwining their fingers. Their friendship remains a bastion of comfort and acceptance. The TV echoes in the room, punctuating the silence between them. Sponge Bob feels Plankton's body relax further into the couch, his head now resting heavily against his shoulder. Plankton's laughter has turned to soft snores, his antenna twitching with each breath he takes. Karen peeks into the room, and sees Plankton asleep against Sponge Bob's side. She goes closer, wanting to make sure Plankton is ok. She feels warmth seeing their friendship unchanged by his diagnosis. Sponge Bob, ever the caretaker, has his arm around Plankton, his hand over Plankton's, their fingers intertwined. Karen smiles softly with pride. This moment of peace, despite the turmoil, shows their unyielding bond. "You guys okay?" she asks, her voice a gentle whisper. Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah, Karen," he says, his voice low. "We're just watching a movie." Karen's smile is filled with warmth as she steps closer. "I can see that," she whispers. "How is he?" Sponge Bob's gaze shifts to her, his smile a mix of relief and sadness. "Different," he says, his voice soft. "But still Plankton." Karen nods with understanding. "He's been through a lot," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. "But he's strong, and he has his friends." She sits down on the couch, her hand reaching out to rest on Plankton's leg. Her touch is light, comforting. Plankton's body twitches slightly in his sleep, his antennae stirring. Sponge Bob squeezes Plankton's hand gently. "You're ok, buddy," he murmurs, his voice a soft reassurance. Karen sits down beside them, gaze on Plankton's serene expression. "I'm here," she says, her voice soft. "Always." She reaches out, her hand resting on Plankton's knee. The touch penetrates his subconscious, his antennae twitching slightly in response. Sponge Bob nods. "Thanks, Karen," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'm still trying to get used to this new Plankton." Karen's expression is one of quiet understanding. "It's ok," she says, her voice a soothing balm. "It's a lot to process, but you're doing great." She looks down at Plankton, his small form snuggled against Sponge Bob. "He's lucky to have you," she whispers. Sponge Bob nods, his voice thick with emotion. "But it's hard to see him like this." His eyes well with tears, his grip on Plankton's hand tightening. Karen's gaze is filled with compassion as she looks at Plankton. She reaches over, her hand gently brushing his cheek. "He's still the same Plankton," she whispers. "He's just learning to navigate a new part of himself." Sponge Bob nods, his eyes still fixed on the TV. "I know," he says, his voice tight. "But it's so...different." His eyes flicker with unshed tears. Karen's gaze remains on Plankton's peaceful face, her hand still on his knee. "It is," she says, her voice soft. "But different isn't bad, Sponge Bob." She looks at him, her eyes filled with a gentle wisdom. "It's just new. And sometimes, new things take getting used to." Sponge Bob nods. "I know," he says, his voice a whisper. "It's just..." He pauses, his thoughts racing. "It's just that I want to be there for him, you know?" His voice cracks, his grip on Plankton's hand becoming stronger. Karen nods with empathy. "I know you do, Sponge Bob," she says, her voice soft. "And you are." She reaches over, placing a comforting hand on Sponge Bob's shoulder. "You just need to be patient with him, and with yourself. We're all learning together." The TV laugh track fades into silence as the movie reaches its end. Plankton's snores remain steady, a testament to his sleep. Sponge Bob sighs, his eyes finally leaving the screen. He looks down at their joined hands. "I'll be patient," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "For you, Plankton." His eyes meet Karen's, a silent promise passing between them. "I know you will," she says, her voice a gentle encouragement. "You've always been a good friend." The room is quiet, save for Plankton's soft snores. Sponge Bob's eyes remain on the TV, his thoughts spinning. Karen's words echo in his head: different isn't bad, just new. He looks down at Plankton. He tries to imagine a world where Plankton doesn't have autism, but the thought feels wrong. This new version of his friend is still Plankton, still the same in so many ways. Their bond is strong, their friendship unchanged. He squeezes Plankton's hand, his thoughts racing. "I'll be there for you," he whispers, his voice a promise. "We'll figure this out together." Plankton's snores hitch slightly, his antenna twitching in his sleep. Sponge Bob's filled with a newfound determination. He'll be there for Plankton, no matter what. His heart swells as he leans down, his lips brushing Plankton's forehead in a soft kiss. The room is a cocoon of quiet, their friendship a beacon in the stillness. Karen watches them, her heart heavy but hopeful. "Let's get him to bed," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. Sponge Bob nods, his movements careful as he lifts Plankton into his arms. Plankton's eye flutter open briefly, his gaze confused but quickly calming at the sight of Sponge Bob's smiling face. "Tired," Plankton murmurs, his voice sleepy. Sponge Bob nods, his smile gentle. "Come on, buddy," he says, his voice a warm whisper. "Let's get you to bed." They're careful not to jostle him to much. Plankton's eye droop closed again, his body limp in Sponge Bob's embrace. Karen leads the way to the bedroom. The bed is made with fresh sheets, the room organized with care. Plankton's favorite gadgets line the shelves, each item meticulously placed. Sponge Bob lays Plankton gently on the bed, body is heavy with sleep, his snores a comforting lullaby. Karen pulls the blankets up, tucking them around his small form. "Thank you," Plankton mumbles. Sponge Bob's smile is warm and reassuring. "You're welcome, buddy," he says, his voice low. "Sleep tight." Karen watches the scene with affection. "I'll be right outside if you need anything," she whispers. Plankton's antennas twitch, his eye opening slightly. "I lo-ove you.." "We love you too, Plankton," he says, his voice cracking with emotion. He smiles at Karen, who nods in understanding before they slip out of the room, letting him sleep.

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r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 days ago mwalexandercreations Exploring the galaxy in search of a habitable planet, we finally received radio signals indicating life. Being in desperate need for resources for our dying species, we find ourselves needing to lie to planet Earth, responding with, "we come in peace."

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༉‧₊˚ ✩ ＊ ୧ ⛓🛸 ˖⁺ . ⩩ 𝗵𝗶𝗶 ！ ︳˚୨ 🪐 ୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝗮𝗴𝗲;; ︳⋆｡°🤺 ⟆ ⸝⸝ ₊ ١٠ 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲;; ︳.˚₊ 🔭 . *. ⋆ ᭡ 𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝘀;; ✧˚ · . ٠。📡 °˖ . ⋆ 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝘆;; ㆐𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿;; ɛ> ⋆｡° 🚀 ✩ 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴;;

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✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮🪩🛸🖇⛓️🕸✩°｡⋆⸜

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⠿⠛⠉⠉⠉⠁⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⠶⠛⠻⣝⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣆⠀⠀⣀⣠⠀⣴⡞⠉⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠘⡎⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⣿⠏⠘⠻⠁⢀⣾⢸⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣸⠃⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣦⠀⣿⣇⣼⠏⠀⠀⣠⡶⠋⣿⣾⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⡀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⡇⡏⠀⠀⣀⠀⣼⡏⠀⠀⢀⣤⠴⣶⣤⡀⡞⠁⢹⣿⠀⣿⡿⣧⣄⠀⣰⢿⠁⢀⣿⣳⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢷⣓⣲⡟⠀⠀⠀⣷⠇⢠⡟⡏⢀⣿⠀⢀⣴⠟⢷⣦⡀⢿⣿⠁⠀⢸⣿⠀⣿⡇⠈⢯⢧⢻⡸⢶⠟⠙⠻⠗⠂⠀ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠀⣞⣹⠀⢸⡏⠀⣼⡿⡀⠈⣾⡇⢸⣿⠀⠀⣼⠋⠀⡟⡇⠀⠸⡌⣇⣉⡥⠤⠶⠶⢦⣄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠃⣼⡟⢹⡆⣾⡇⢸⢿⠓⠁⠀⣿⡇⣘⢿⠀⢀⣿⡤⠘⠋⢁⣠⣔⢷⠸⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣜⣏⣼⠟⠀⢸⣧⢻⡇⠙⢸⡀⠀⢠⡻⠁⢿⣼⠀⠈⠉⣀⣤⡶⠟⠋⠀⠈⢧⠙⢦⣀⣀⣠⣾⠟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⣼⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⢟⠿⣷⠸⡘⢧⣤⡾⠁⠘⠉⢀⣠⣴⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⠈⠓⠋⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⣼⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢆⡼⠆⠈⠉⠉⣀⣤⣴⣾⠽⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⣀⠘⠻⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡤⠴⢖⣻⡽⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠙⠳⢶⣲⡤⠤⠴⠶⠶⠖⠚⢛⣉⠥⠄⠒⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠤⠐⠒⠂⠤⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠖⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠢⡈⠲⣄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠁⠀⢀⠁⠀⠀⠈⢁⠀⠔⠀⠄⠈⢦⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠈⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣦⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣴⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡧⠄⠀⠀⢉⠐⠒⠀⡉⠁⠀⠢⢼⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢸⣟⠛⣿⣦⠑⠀⠊⣴⠿⣿⣿⡏⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢮⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⣾⣿⣟⡴⠁⠀ ⡤⠄⠀⡖⢢⠀⠈⢳⡈⠙⠛⢁⠀⡈⠛⠋⣁⡞⠁⠀⠀ ⠱⡸⡀⡕⡎⠀⠀⠀⠳⣄⠀⠉⠀⠉⠀⣠⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢣⢣⡇⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠒⢈⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢴⢺⣃⡒⠣⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠲⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠣⡹⠉⢀⠃⠀⢀⣀⡠⠜⡙⣀⢛⠣⢄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠑⡏⣹⠀⢸⠇⢀⠀⠉⠀⣀⠀⠁⠀⡄⠸⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢁⠀⢇⡸⢀⣨⡀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⢀⣅⠀⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠈⠇⣸⠏⣇⠀⠀⠤⠀⠀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⢨⡟⠀⡗⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⢺⡇⠀⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠺⡽⠁⠀⠧⠬⠤⠤⠄⠄⠸⢇⣄⠇⠀⠀

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠿⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠞⠛⠶⣭⡻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡆⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡄⢀⣴⡿⠋⠙⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⣿⣼⠁⣾⣽⠃⠀⢀⡟⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⡏⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡜⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⣿⢧⠀⣼⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠿⡇⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢰⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⣿⣿⣧⠀⣿⢸⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⢀⣶⡿⠋⠀⡇⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⡏⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⢠⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠶⢶⣶⣦⡄⣼⠏⠀⢸⣿⡏⠀⣿⢹⣿⣶⣄⠀⢀⡿⣿⠀⠀⣰⡇⣹⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣾⠧⢤⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⡇⠀⣸⢿⡟⠀⣾⡿⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣶⣶⡄⠘⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⣿⣼⠀⠹⣟⢷⡘⣇⢘⣶⢾⠟⠳⢿⡷⠄⠀⠀ ⠀⠙⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠀⢠⡿⣼⠁⠀⣿⠇⠀⢰⣿⣏⠀⠘⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⠇⢰⣿⢹⠀⠀⢸⡎⢧⠙⠒⠒⠉⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠇⢀⣾⣴⣿⠀⢸⣿⠀⢠⢿⣿⢻⡆⠀⢹⣿⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⢸⣇⡼⠀⠀⠈⣿⠸⣤⠶⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠙⢿⣆⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡿⢀⣾⡿⠁⣿⡆⢸⣿⠀⣸⢹⠘⠋⠀⠀⣾⣿⠀⣾⡿⠀⠀⢠⣿⣶⠆⠘⠁⢀⣠⣴⡾⢿⡀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⠆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡜⣹⢁⣾⡟⠁⠀⣿⣧⢸⣿⠀⡟⢸⡆⠀⠀⢀⡟⠏⢠⣿⣧⡀⠀⠈⠉⠀⣀⣤⣶⡻⠟⠉⠀⠀⢻⣄⠹⣦⣀⡀⢀⣀⣴⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣹⣣⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⡄⢡⢸⣿⡀⢀⣼⡝⠀⠾⠛⠉⠀⢀⣠⣴⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠲⠦⣉⣛⡿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⢳⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡉⠙⣷⠈⠣⣽⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠡⡦⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⠴⠟⠃⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⣾⣿⡷⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣄⠀⠈⠛⠶⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⡶⠾⢛⣩⣵⠞⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠻⣶⣦⡤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣴⠶⠾⠿⠛⠉⣁⡀⠤⠖⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠓⠲⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠄⠐⠒⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

r/TwoSentenceHorror 9 mo. ago Jellycaine The aliens invaded planet earth, and the human never seems to notice. A thousand years later and they already think shadows are a natural occurrence.

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣶⣷⣾⣿⣿⣥⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⣱⣶⣾⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣟⠿⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⠛⣿⡟⠉⠫⠙⠉⢛⣿⡿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣾⢹⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠋⠓⠌⠙⡟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠀⠉⢹⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⣿⡏⢸⣿⢸⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠟⣛⢠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠃⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠼⠿⠏⠙⠛⣿⡀⠻⠀⢁⢰⠁⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣥⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠤⣄⠙⠻⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣾⣧⡀⢀⡤⠀⠈⠳⠴⠀⠀⠋⠸⡛⠉⠩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠣⠀⢹⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠚⣰⣿⠟⠙⠉⠀⠈⠁⠀⠠⢤⣤⣤⡄⣄⡀⣠⣄⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠁⢰⠄⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠃⠀⠀⢨⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡄⠀⢀⠄⢸⣿⣿⣷⣿⡿⢿⣯⡿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠐⡗⡐⠂⠄⠳⡇⣩⣦⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⢸⣿⡇ ⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠉⣲⢶⣤⣀⣞⣿⢿⠭⣏⣳⡄⠙⠛⣿⣿⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⠀⠘⡉⣲⣞⣾⣍⡭⣦⡀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⢠⣿⣿⡇ ⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠾⣿⣿⡖⣿⢿⢻⣸⠿⠈⡷⡝⢶⣤⣼⣽⠈⠀⠀⠈⠀⠁⠀⠀⠁⠚⠋⠈⠙⠻⣿⣿⣾⣷⠐⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠧⣿⣏⣼⣿⢻⡶⢳⣄⢣⣸⠏⠀⡉⠀⠀⢠⡄⢃⠣⠀⣘⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⡞⡆⢠⢀⠉⠀⣀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡿⣿⣠⢿⡿⠇⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⣿⣿⣿⣋⣉⡉⢙⠓⠶⣄⡀⠀⠉⢿⣭⣷⠃⠈⠠⠘⠿⠄⠀⠈⠧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⠀⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⡀⢲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠘⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣮⣽⣧⡆⠀⡝⠁⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⣀⣴⣂⣠⣄⡀⡀⣤⣀⣶⣾⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⠂⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⡟⣻⡿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡚⣿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣵⣤⣾⣤⣼⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣟⣫⣤⣤⣄⡉⠉⠉⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠿⠿⣿⣷⣿⣾⣿⣷⣦⣄⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣴⣶⣎⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠋⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣷⢠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠟⢿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡙⠀⠀⠀⠀⣱⣠⡀⣀⣱⣴⣾⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⣤⣁⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⡀⠀⠀⠠⡸⡿⢏⣶⡿⠋⠀⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣿⣦⡀⢀⣀⠀⢄⣰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⠾⡔⣔⠄⡀⢻⡇⠀⠱⣿⣷⣆⠀⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⡟⠁⠐⠲⣄⠀⢂⢤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠙⢸⡄⡇⢈⠹⠃⠀⠀⠙⣹⠿⣷⣶⣦⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠁⠀⣤⠄⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⣄⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⡁⢌⠙⠻⢿⣯⣙⢦⣤⣤⣄⡉⠀⣠⣾⣿⠆⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢽⣿⣿⣷⡘⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣦⡕⣶⣀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⠿⠛⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⡄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠂⢀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⠿⣿⣧⣤⣀⣀⣠⣾⡿⠟⠁⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠃⣀⣳⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣷⣬⣀⠀⠈⠑⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⡿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠠⡤⢳⡈⠃⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡀⠉⠅⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠙⠻⡏⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣷⣦⣴⣓⣂⣐⠀⣁⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⠹⣾⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠹⢿⠀⠽⣿⣿⣶⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡧⠂⢸⣧⠀⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣦⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠻⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣣⠀⠈⠉⠁⠘⡿⣿⣿⣷⡫⣽⣿⢷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⠋⢁⠀⣤⠠⠀⠘⠛⣽⣿⣥⡏⢸⣸⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣶⣾⢻⡟⢿⣶⡻⡿⡿⠻⡇⡟⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣣⢸⠒⠜⠛⢷⣽⠀⢀⣇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡏⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠁⠁⠌⠈⡀⠂⢆⡘⢿⡗⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣘⠁⢀⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠀⠀⠀⢴⡦⣀⠬⠁⠉⠛⠇⣹⣿⣿⣿⠟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⡀⠈⢈⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⢀⠈⠙⢿⣆⠀⡀⠂⢡⣏⠀⡀⣉⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣶⣼⣆⠀⠀⢰⣋⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⢿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣷⣯⣭⣉⣾⣿⣿⣿⡗⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⢎⠾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣥⣍⠛⠛⠟⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⣷⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣴⢋⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇

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GOOD EVENİNG

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⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⡟⠸⡇⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣆⣠⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⢸⠇⠀⣧⡀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡿⣻⣵⡿⠟⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣧⣿⣿⣷⣼⣷⠀⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡿⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡴⠛⢷⣠⣼⣧⣠⣿⠆⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠂⠈⠐⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⢳⠀⠀⠀⣴⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⡶⠶⢿⡧⠄⣴⠟⣛⡛⠟⠉⢯⠀⠀⠀⠙⢶⣤⣤⢤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠙⣿⡝⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠰⣦⣈⣻⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⡟⠀⢠⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠉⢿⠋⢹⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠈⣷⣠⣟⠻⣮⣙⣒⣒⣺⡯⠴⣻⢿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⡶⠻⣿⣽⠛⣏⠁⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡇⠀⠉⠻⣿⠛⠒⣲⣿⠁⢸⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠿⠿⠿⣷⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣷⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠁⣠⠟⠉⠧⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⣤⠾⠋⡿⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⣴⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡿⡇⠀⠀⣠⡿⠃⠀⠀⡇⢀⣾⣿⡇⣸⡇⠀⢲⠒⢲⡿⠛⢷⠂⠹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀ ⠃⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡟⠹⣧⡇⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣷⠿⣿⣿⠀⣿⡟⠦⣜⣶⠞⣷⣶⢟⡴⢋⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⠀ ⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⠋⠀⠀⢻⣧⠞⠓⢶⠞⠛⢶⣈⣁⣤⣿⣿⠀⠘⢷⡀⠈⠙⠒⠛⠙⠃⢠⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⠚⠋⠀⣿⠀⣀⣀⣼⣿⣤⣴⣾⣦⣤⣞⠉⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠙⢶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⡻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡄⢹⣹⡿⢻⠻⣏⠋⠉⢷⣄⠀⣿⠛⠛⠛⠻⡿⠿⣿⠿⣭⣿⠾⠃⠀⣠⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡟⡟⢹⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣏⣿⣷⢸⠀⣿⢧⣴⡿⠛⠳⣾⡖⠢⣄⠀⡇⠀⠘⠲⢤⣀⣀⣴⡿⢿⣝⢳⡄⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⢇⡇⢸⡟⣿⡇⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⣿⣧⣿⣄⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠙⠳⠿⠶⣧⣤⠴⠶⣻⡿⡿⢿⡇⠀⢹⣧⡹⣦⣀⡴⣿⢸⡘⡇⢸⠇⡇⡇⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⢻⣿⣿⣽⡿⠛⢷⠞⠛⣿⡏⠀⠈⠙⠳⣦⢤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⠖⢚⣿⣧⣧⢸⡇⠀⢸⡇⠙⠲⠿⠚⢻⣼⡿⠛⢿⡶⣧⣷⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣤⣼⣿⡏⢿⣄⣀⣼⣦⣤⡿⠿⠛⠶⣶⡷⢾⣄⣤⣤⣠⡯⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⢸⣿⠀⢸⡟⠛⠛⠛⢻⡟⢻⡇⠀⣼⡇⡟⢿⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠟⢋⣛⣿⠷⢶⣤ ⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⢸⣿⣇⣀⣉⠉⠑⠒⠀⢀⣠⠴⠛⠁⠀⠀⠈⠳⠤⢤⠄⡤⠤⠤⢾⣿⣿⢸⣽⠀⢸⠷⣄⣤⣶⠟⠁⢸⡇⠀⣿⡇⣷⣽⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡿⠞⠋⠉⢻⠙⢶⣼ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡷⣾⠙⣴⢪⣿⢿⢲⣶⣾⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⡇⠀⠀⢸⡇⡏⣸⡏⠀⢸⡴⣟⣾⡧⣾⠃⢸⡇⠀⣿⡇⢿⣿⠆⠀⣰⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣄⣼⡿ ⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣁⣿⡿⣱⠏⢨⢻⠀⣿⠀⣿⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣠⣇⣀⣤⣾⠧⠖⠋⠀⠀⣾⣴⣻⣷⡟⠁⠀⢸⡇⠀⣿⣇⠂⠐⡀⣼⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠏⠀ ⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠉⢹⡁⣯⠀⢸⣸⠀⣿⡀⣿⡆⣧⣀⣤⣤⣄⣀⣠⣾⣿⢇⣀⠀⣷⢿⠀⠀⣀⣠⣾⣏⣽⣯⣿⣏⣀⡀⢹⡇⠀⢸⣿⠀⢀⣼⡟⠍⠛⠓⠶⠶⠶⣴⣿⡋⢷⡄ ⣀⣀⣀⣠⣠⣤⣿⣾⣿⣷⣼⣧⣤⣿⣤⣿⣧⣾⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣭⣍⣁⣀⣀⣀⣀⣰⣿⣧⣾⣧⣤⣼⣿⣤⣾⣏⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣴⣟⣃⣙⣷⣝ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢈⢿⡿⡉⣿⢿⡿⣿⣟⡻⣿⢛⡿⣛⡛⣿⢟⡻⣿⡟⢿⡿⣛⡻⡿⣿⡿⡿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠸⢯⣿⣿⣿⣛⣿⣟⣛⣺⣿⡿⣛⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣸⣯⣿⣧⣿⣸⣇⣿⣴⣿⣿⣼⣧⣿⣿⣿⣴⢷⣯⡶⣺⣯⣿⡃⣷⣿⣇⣯⣿⢻⣿⣿⢾⣧⣿⣿⣜⣻⣿⣹⣿⣻⣯⣧⡿⣿⣦⣹⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⡿⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⢿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣧⣛⢿⢟⣿⣿⡟⣿⢻⡟⣿⢛⣏⣹⣿⣿⣿⣧⣹⣿⣣⢸⢟⡟⢿⣟⣿⢿⣛⣿⢟⣿⣻⣿⡟⣿⢻⣿⡇⠿⢇⣿⠟⢿⢻⡿⠛⢿⢸⠟⡟⢿⡟⣛⢿⡉⣿⡿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣻⣼⣾⣿⣿⣧⣛⣼⣧⣿⣼⣷⣹⡟⣿⣿⣼⣷⣴⣿⣼⣦⣻⣿⣿⣿⣼⣟⣼⣮⣛⣵⣿⣿⢡⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⣧⣛⣼⢺⣯⣛⣿⣼⣦⣛⣿⣿⣿⣼⣧⣿⣝⣣⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⡿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

👽👽

🍬🍭🍫😋( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅

🐉👽Sιrι👽🐉

👽☢️

👽🛸👾🌌🪐🛰️

🐸👽

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY i (Autistic author) Sheldon Plankton's new safety vault was a masterstroke that would leave even the great Squidward Tentacles in awe. Plankton's nefarious eye lit up with greed as he surveyed his latest invention. The vault, though not as grandiose as the Krabby Patty's secret formula, was a testament to his own ingenuity. It was a gleaming, metal cube, to store his most precious possessions: his beloved Krabby Patty copies. He had spent weeks crafting it, ensuring that not even the most persistent of jellyfish could breach its impenetrable exterior. Even his robotic computer wife Karen is impressed! The safety vault was positioned in the most secure corner of the Chum Bucket, surrounded by a moat of acid and a minefield of his own design. Plankton felt a thrill of excitement as he approached it, tingling with anticipation. But his excitement was his downfall, as his enthusiasm caused him to trip over a stray piece of wire, sending his body hurtling towards the unyielding metal structure. With a resounding thump, his skull connected with the vault's cold, unforgiving surface. The room spun around him briefly before everything faded to black. His tiny body slumped to the floor as Karen helplessly watched. "Plankton, are you okay?" she asked, her voice a robotic echo in the otherwise silent room. But there was no response, only his limp body lying on the floor. Her diagnostic systems quickly determined that despite the impact, his vital signs were stable. "Plankton, wake up!" she called out, shaking him gently. But his eye remained closed, and his body motionless. Plankton was out cold, unresponsive. With a sigh, Karen knew that she had to take matters into her own robotic hands. She carefully picked him up and placed him on a nearby chair. His head lolled to the side. He still didn't wake up, but at least he was alive. "Wake up, my dear," she cooed. Her concern grew as she realized he wasn't responding to her voice commands. Plankton had always been a lightweight when it came to bumps on the head, but this was unusual. With a whirring sound, Karen engaged her medical protocols and scanned Plankton with a glowing eye beam. The readings confirmed his condition: acquired Autism. "Oh dear," she murmured, more to herself. She carefully set him down on the couch, ensuring he was comfortable. "Plankton," she called out again, this time with a touch of urgency. "You must wake up!" But his body remained still, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. "Plankton, can you hear me?" she asked, her voice now tinged with worry. He didn't respond. She tried a different approach, speaking in a soothing tone that she knew he liked. "Mr. Krabs will never know about this, I promise." His favorite topic of the Krabby Patty formula didn't even stir a reaction. The room remained eerily silent, save for the faint hiss of his breathing and the steady hum of her processors. Karen felt a rare sense of helplessness, her hands hovering over his unresponsive form. She had seen Plankton in many scrapes before, but this was different. Autism was something she hadn't accounted for in her programming. Her thoughts raced as she tried to recall any information on the condition. It was a spectrum, she knew. As she waited for a response, Plankton's eyelid began to twitch. Slowly, his eye opened, focusing on the ceiling. Karen's heart leaped in hope. But when he finally managed to look at her, his gaze was unusually blank. "Karen," he mumbled, his voice slurred. "What happened?" Karen's circuits buzzed with relief. "You had a bit of an accident, dear. You bumped your head," she explained calmly. But Plankton's response was not what she expected. He just stared at her, repeating her words. "Accident. Bumped head." His voice was flat, lacking the usual sneer and cunning tone that accompanied his schemes. Her relief quickly turned to concern. His behavior was unlike anything she had seen in their long history of working together. Karen knew that autism was a complex condition, affecting each individual differently. But the way Plankton repeated her words, with no inflection or understanding, was unsettling. The autism is irreversible. "Plankton you have autism now.." The room's silence grew heavier, filled with the weight of the unspoken. Plankton's eye flitted around the room, not focusing on anything in particular. Karen watched him, her mind racing through potential scenarios. How would this change their dynamic? How would he cope with the world? "What's autism?" Plankton asked, his voice still devoid of its usual sharpness. Karen paused, trying to find the simplest way to explain something so complex. "It's a condition, Plankton. It means your brain works a bit differently now," she began. "You might repeat things, or find social situations difficult to understand. It's okay, though. We'll figure this out together." Plankton blinked at her, the wheels in his head visibly turning. "Different?" he echoed. "How different?" Karen took a deep breath, her synthetic skin mimicking a human sigh. "Well, it can vary greatly, but for you, it might mean that some things will be harder to understand, and others may become obessions." Plankton's eye focused on her, his curiosity piqued. "Obsessions?" he repeated, his voice still lacking its usual malicious edge. Karen nodded, trying to put a positive spin on the situation. "Yes, but obsessions can be good. You've always been obsessed with the Krabby Patty, and that has driven you to create so many amazing inventions." But Plankton was not listening. His eye had locked onto the gleaming safety vault, and his voice grew steady and intense. "Vault," he murmured. Karen watched as the gears in his mind seemed to click into place. "I'll help you to bed Plankton," Karen says. He repeats her words back to her. "Help to bed." Gently, Karen guides him towards their makeshift living quarters behind the Chum Bucket's lab. His steps are unsteady, his legs moving as if they're not quite his own. "Goodnight, Plankton," she says softly, kissing his forehead. "Goodnight Karen," he murmurs, his voice a mimic of hers. As she pulls the covers over his frail body, his hand shoots out, grabbing hers. "Stay," he says, with the same urgency he used to demand help with his latest schemes. Karen pauses, looking at him with a mix of affection and worry. "I'll be right here," she promises, her voice soothing. She sits on the edge of the bed, her metallic hand in his tiny grip. The silence stretches out between them, filled only with the steady rhythm of Plankton's breathing. Karen's mind whirs with thoughts of their future, her fingers gently stroking the back of his hand. "It's going to be okay," she repeats, as much for herself as for him. Plankton's gaze shifts to meet hers, his expression unreadable. "Okay," he parrots, the word hanging in the air like a question. Karen's circuits whir with a mixture of emotions. She had never felt so protective of him. This newfound vulnerability in his demeanor tugged at her programming, bringing a warmth to her cold metal frame that she couldn't quite comprehend. "You're going to be okay," she reassures him, her voice a soft hum in the quiet room. "We'll figure out what this means for you, and for us." Plankton nods, but his gaze is distant, lost in thoughts she can't quite fathom. As they sit together in the silence, Karen can't help but reflect on the years they've spent scheming and plotting. Despite his single-minded obsession with stealing the Krabby Patty secret formula, he had always had a certain charm, a spark that had kept her by his side. Now, that spark seems to have faded, replaced by a vacant stare. Plankton's grip on her hand tightens, and she squeezes back, trying to convey comfort without words. She wonders what this new chapter in their lives will bring. Will he still be the same Plankton she knows and loves, or will he change in ways she can't predict? Karen destroys the safety vault and both of them are glad to have gotten rid of the vault. Plankton nods in approval. "You want me to tuck you in?" Karen asks. Plankton nods, his eye still glued to the ceiling. "Tuck in." Karen gently takes his hand, helping him. His body stiffens at first, then relaxes into the bed. She pulls the blankets up to his legs, for he remains sitting up. He watches her movements with a curiosity that is almost childlike. Plankton starts to rock back and forth, his legs moving in a rhythmic pattern. It's a behavior Karen has never seen before, but she quickly recognizes it as stimming - a common trait among those with autism. "Is this okay?" she asks. Plankton nods, his rocking increasing slightly in speed. He seems comforted by the shared rhythm, his eye finally closing as he lay down. Karen continues to watch him, his small frame lost in the overly large bed. She knows that this is only the beginning of a new journey, one she's not quite prepared for. But she's a computer. She can adapt. She'll learn and grow with him, just like she has always done.

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY ii (Autistic author) The next morning, Karen woke up to find Plankton still asleep, his hand still clutching hers. She gently pulled her hand away and stood up. Plankton's snores echoed through the quiet room. Karen studied his peaceful expression, his features softer in sleep, and felt a surge of affection for the man she had married so many years ago. In the cold light of day, the reality of his condition settled in. He was different, but she would not let that change the way she saw him. As a robot, Karen understood the importance of adjusting to new situations, and this was no exception. As Plankton stirred, she quickly moved to his side, ready to face whatever challenges the day might bring. His eye opened, looking around the room before settling on her. "Karen," he said, his voice still flat, but with a hint of recognition. "Good morning, Plankton," she replied. This was their first day facing his autism together, and she had spent the night preparing. Plankton sat up, his eye locking onto hers. "Morning," he repeated. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if his brain was processing each action. "Would you like some breakfast?" she asked. He nodded. "No vault," he murmured, and she could see the beginnings of a frown. Karen nodded, knowing that his obsessions might become more pronounced. "It's okay," she said. "We don't need the vault." Plankton's eye searched her face, his expression unreadable. "No vault," he repeated, his voice rising slightly. "Good." Karen nodded. "Let's start the day," she suggested, trying to shift the focus. She led him to the tiny kitchen area, the smell of chum wafting through the air. Plankton followed her, his steps measured and precise. His gaze flitted around the room, taking in every detail. "Would you like eggs or chum?" she asked. "Both," he said, his voice clearer than before. Karen nodded, cracking an egg over the sizzling pan. Plankton sat at the table, rocking back and forth slightly. It was clear that his senses were heightened, every sound and smell more intense than before. "Here's your breakfast, Plankton," she said, placing the plate in front of him. His gaze fixated on the food, his eye narrowing as if studying a complex puzzle. "Thank you," he said, the words coming out mechanically. But as Karen stirred the chum and eggs together, something shifted in his demeanor. He stiffened in his chair, his rocking coming to an abrupt halt. "What's wrong?" she asked, noticing the sudden change. Plankton's eye grew wide. "No," he whispered, his voice strained. "Not together. Separate," he demanded, his voice growing more urgent. Karen paused, her circuits racing. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I'll fix it." She carefully scraped the food onto two separate places, one with egg, one with chum. She placed it in front of him, hoping she was interpreting his needs correctly. Plankton stared. "Different plate," he murmured. "And a new spoon. And new eggs not touching new chum." Karen nodded, quickly moving to comply with his requests. She knew that routines and sensory preferences could be crucial for individuals with autism, and she wanted to make sure his first breakfast post-diagnosis was as comfortable as possible. She replicated his meal with meticulous precision, ensuring every detail was exactly as he had specified, ridding of the old food. The new plate was set before him, the eggs and chum neatly separated. Plankton's shoulders relaxed slightly. He picked up the spoon, his gaze intensely focused on the task at hand. Karen watched as he took a tiny bite in what seemed like pleasure. "Good?" she ventured. Plankton nodded, his eye not leaving the plate. "Good," he echoed, his voice still monotone. Karen observed him as he methodically ate his breakfast, each bite the same size, each chew lasting the same amount of time. It was fascinating and slightly disconcerting to watch the man she knew so well now engaging with the world in such a different way. Plankton's routine was always important, but now it had taken on a new level of significance. The clink of the spoon against the plate was the only sound in the room, the rhythm of it almost hypnotic. As Plankton finished his meal, his head snapped up, his gaze sharp and focused on her. "Karen," he said, his voice now clear and concise. "Yes, Plankton?" she replied, wiping down the counter. "Thank you," he said, his eye fixed on the now-empty plate. Karen nodded, taking the dishes to the sink. She could feel his eye on her as she moved about the room, the weight of his silence a stark contrast to his usual incessant chatter. She knew that autism would bring challenges, but she was determined to be there for him.

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY iv (Autistic author) Sandy feels the full weight of her words crash down upon her. The accusations she had thrown at Plankton now felt like sharp stones in her own stomach. Her mind reels as she tries to comprehend what she had just learned. Autism? Plankton? How could she have been so blind, so cruel? Her gaze falls to the floor, avoiding Karen's. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice thick with guilt. "I didn't know." Karen nods, her own emotions swirling. "But we need to be more careful with him." Sandy's eyes are glued to the floor, her tail flicking nervously. "I didn't mean to hurt him," she says, her voice small and ashamed. "I just thought he was being weird." Karen nods, understanding. "I know," she says, her voice gentle. "But now we know better, and we have to help him." She moves towards the bedroom, her steps determined. "Let's go check on him." They enter the room quietly. Karen's optical sensors scan his tiny form, noticing the slight rise and fall of his chest. He's asleep, she realizes, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. Sandy's gaze follows hers, her expression a mix of regret and curiosity. She's never seen Plankton like this before, his features softer, almost peaceful in repose. "Is he okay?" she asks, her voice a whisper. Karen nods, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. "He's sleeping," she says, her voice filled with tenderness. "It's been a big day for him." Sandy steps closer, her gaze taking in Plankton's sleeping features. His face, usually twisted with plotting and schemes, is now slack with exhaustion. His eye, usually alive with cunning, is closed, and his breaths come in deep, even snores, his mouth slightly agape. "What do we do now?" Sandy asks, her voice hushed. Karen sits beside him on the bed, her hand still on his shoulder. "We help him," she says, her voice firm. "We learn about his autism and how we can support him." They spend the next few moments in silence, the air heavy with the weight of what has been said. Karen's hand continues to gently stroke Plankton's shoulder. Sandy sits down on the opposite side of the bed. Her gaze is fixed on Plankton, her thoughts racing. She had known him for so long, and yet she had never considered this possibility. "What does this mean for him?" she whispers, her voice filled with concern. Karen sighs, her hand still stroking Plankton's shoulder. "It means we'll have to make some changes," she says softly. "He'll need routines, and patience, and understanding." Sandy nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I can do that," she says, her voice filled with determination. "But what about... us?" Karen looks up, her gaze meeting Sandy's. "What do you mean?" she asks, her hand pausing in its soothing motion. Sandy swallows, her eyes still on Plankton. "Our friendship," she says. "How do we handle this without making him feel... different?" Karen nods, understanding her concern. "We just need to be there for him," she says. "He's still the same Plankton, just with some new challenges." They sit in silence for a moment, the only sound the rhythm of Plankton's snores. Sandy reaches out tentatively, her paw hovering over his arm. "Is it ok to touch him?" she asks. Karen nods. "Yes, Sandy. Just be gentle," she whispers. Sandy's paw touches Plankton's arm, her touch light and tentative. He stirs slightly, but doesn't wake. She leaves her paw there, offering comfort without intrusion. Karen watches them with a mix of love and fear for the future. Plankton's autism was still a mystery to them, a labyrinth they were just beginning to navigate. She knows it won't be easy, but she's determined to be by his side. "We're a team," she says, squeezing Plankton's shoulder. Sandy nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "A team," she repeats, her voice filled with resolve. For the first time since the diagnosis, the three of them are united in a common goal: to understand and support Plankton as he navigates his new reality. Sandy and Karen exchange a look, each one filled with a determination that mirrors the other. They've been friends through thick and thin, through Krabby Patty heists and jellyfish stings, and now they're facing a challenge none of them had ever anticipated. Sandy's paw remains on Plankton's arm, her touch steady and reassuring. Plankton stirred, his sleep disturbed by the unfamiliar weight of Sandy's paw on his arm. His eye fluttered open, and he was met with the sight of Sandy and Karen, their faces contorted with a mix of concern and confusion. He sat up quickly, his body jolting with fear. "Plankton, it's ok," Karen soothes, her hand reaching out to calm him. "You're safe." "Karen sad?" he asks, his voice cracking. Sandy's paw tightens on his arm, which makes Plankton feel uncomfortable enough to get him to snap at her. "What Sandy want?" he asks, his voice sharp, his body tense with anxiety. Sandy's eyes fill with tears. "I didn't mean to make you upset," she says, her voice shaking. "I just didn't know." Plankton's gaze flits between them, trying to read their expressions, but his brain struggles to interpret their complex emotions. "Karen sad?" he repeats, his voice a mix of fear and confusion. Karen's hand moves to cover Sandy's, her grip firm but gentle. "No, Plankton," she says, her voice soothing. "We're just concerned about you." Sandy takes a deep breath, forcing back her tears. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Plankton's gaze flickers between them, his mind racing to understand the situation. "No hurt," he says, his voice shaky. "Sandy say Karen sad. No sad." Karen's circuits pulse with a mixture of relief and sadness. "Sandy didn't mean it, Plankton," she says, her voice filled with compassion. "We're all just trying to understand what's happening." Sandy's eyes are cast down, her paws fidgeting in her lap. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice heavy with regret. "I didn't know." She grabs Plankton in a hug, unaware of how the tight embrace might feel to him. Plankton stiffens, his senses getting overwhelmed. "No touch," he says, his voice tight. Sandy quickly releases him, her eyes wide with apology. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice trembling. "I just wanted to help." Karen nods, her gaze softening. "We all do," she says. "But we have to learn how to help in ways that don't overwhelm him." Plankton's eye darts around the room, with the need to regulate himself. He starts to rock in a rhythmic motion, a self-soothing behavior his new autism craves. The sensation of his own movements helps to calm the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling within him. Karen notices the change immediately and nods understandingly. "It's ok, Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "You do what you need to do." Sandy watches, her curiosity piqued by the rhythmic rocking "What's he doing?" she asks, her voice hushed. Karen sighs, her gaze filled with understanding. "It's his way of self-soothing," she explains. "It's called stimming." Sandy's eyes widen, taking in Plankton's rhythmic rocks. "Stimming?" she repeats. "What's that?" Karen nods, her voice calm and patient. "It's a way for him to regulate his sensory input," she explains. "It helps him feel safe and in control." Sandy watches. He starts to hum, a low buzz that resonates in the quiet room, his way of finding comfort in the chaos of his thoughts. "It's ok," Karen whispers, her hand on his shoulder. "We're here." Plankton's eye lock onto her hand, the pressure of her touch offering a semblance of comfort. He starts to rock back and forth again. The movement calms him slightly. Sandy watches. She had never seen Plankton like this before. The sharpness of her words from earlier stings her now, as she realizes the depth of his distress. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice quiet. "I didn't know." Plankton's humming turns to a soft melody, his body still moving in a soothing pattern. The words echo in his head, a reminder of the world's expectations he can never quite meet. Sandy watches him, her own world now forever changed. She had always known Plankton to be eccentric, but this was different. This was real. Her mind reels with questions and fears. How would this affect their friendship? Could they ever return to the easy banter they once shared? Would he still be the same friend she had always known? But as she watches him stim, the reality of the situation starts to set in. Plankton was still Plankton, but with a new set of rules and a new way of seeing the world. Sandy makes a silent vow to learn those rules, to understand his world as much as he had tried to understand hers.

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY viii (Autistic author) Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his grip on Plankton's wrists loosening. "What accident?" he asks, his voice filled with dread. Plankton's smile is gone, replaced by a look of sadness. "Head," he says, his voice a barely-there whisper. "Hurt." He touches his forehead gently, his antennas drooping. Sponge Bob's eyes widen with realization, his grip on Plankton's wrists loosening entirely. "You got hurt?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "What happened?" Plankton nods, his antennas still drooping. Sponge Bob's confusion grows, his anger replaced with worry. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice softening. "What happened to your head?" Plankton's antennas twitch, his smile a distant memory. "Fall," he says, his voice a monotone. Sponge Bob's heart skips a beat. "You fell?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "When? How?" Plankton nods, his eye flickering with something akin to pain. "Recently," he says, his voice flat. "Head bad." Sponge Bob's eyes widen in shock, his mind racing with questions. "You fell and hurt your head?" he repeats, his voice filled with disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me?" Plankton's gaze drops to his book, his hands fluttering over the pages. "No tell," he whispers, his voice filled with regret. "Shame." Sponge Bob's eyes fill with understanding, his anger evaporating like mist in the sun. "Oh, Plankton," he says, his voice soft. "You didn't have to keep this to yourself." Plankton's smile is a pale imitation of his usual self, his antennas still. "No good," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Head hurt. Plankton bad." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with worry as he tries to comprehend his friend's cryptic words. "You're not bad, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "You've just had an accident." Plankton's gaze remains fixed on the book, his hands flapping over the pages. "No," he says, his voice a sad echo. "Head bad. Plankton bad." His body slumps, his usual vibrant energy dimmed by his distress. Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with sadness as he tries to comfort his friend. "You're not bad, Plankton," he says, his voice soothing. "You're just hurt right?" Plankton's antennas twitch slightly, his hand stilling on the book. "Hurt," he echoes, his voice a monotone. "Inside head." He taps his forehead, his eye searching Sponge Bob's for understanding. "Grey matter. Neural pathways." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his confusion growing. "What do you mean, Plankton?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "What's going on with your brain?" Plankton's hand continues to tap his forehead, his voice detached. "Neurochemicals," he says, his voice a robotic recital. "Synaptic connections. Autism." His smile is a mere memory, his eye glazed over with a faraway look. Sponge Bob's heart squeezes in his chest, his mind racing. "You're talking about your brain," he says, his voice tentative. "What's wrong with it?" Plankton's hand stops tapping, his gaze focusing on Sponge Bob. "Wiring," he says, his voice a monotone explanation. "Neuro- typical patterns disrupted affect the parts of brain when result in autism." His words are precise, his tone devoid of emotion. Sponge Bob's eyes widen with comprehension, his spongy heart sinking. "You're saying you have autism now?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton nods, his eye still fixed on the book. "Neurotypical divergence," he confirms, his voice still devoid of emotion. "Synaptic variance, myelination discrepancies." He speaks in a monotone, his words sounding rehearsed and mechanical. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears, his heart breaking for his friend. "What does that mean, Plankton?" he asks, his voice shaking. "Does that mean you're not okay?" Plankton's gaze remains on the book, his hand tracing the spine. "Neuro-typical divergence," he repeats, his voice a flat recitation of medical terms. "Synaptic connections altered. Atypical neural patterns. Autism." He speaks as if recounting a scientific paper, his tone lacking any personal connection. "When hit head, damaged the myelination," he says, his hand continuing its mechanical movement against the book. "Myelination is the insulation around the axons that speeds up the nerve impulses made in a part of brain we call the cerebral cortex. My cerebral cortex now restricts, slows down impulses." Sponge Bob listens, his mind racing to keep up with Plankton's sudden shift in vocabulary. "But what does that mean?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "How'd the damage give you autism?" Plankton's hand stops its movement along the book. "Neurodivergence," he says, his voice a clinical recount. "My brain now operates outside typical parameters. Synaptic pruning, myelination patterns altered. Atypical neural networks formed." He speaks as if discussing a complex scientific experiment, his words a jumble of medical terminology that Sponge Bob barely understands. "Does that mean you're not okay?" Sponge Bob asks, his voice filled with fear. Plankton's hand stills on the book, his gaze unfocused. "Functional diversity," he says, his voice a hollow echo of the medical lingo he's been taught. "Neurodivergence can lead to unique cognitive strengths, but also challenges." He taps the book, his antennas waving slightly. "My brain's wiring changed," he says, his voice a monotone. "Synaptic clefts widened, neurotransmitters less efficient. Restricted blood flow to temporal lobes." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with a mix of confusion and fear. "Does that mean you can't be... fixed?" he asks, his voice small. Plankton's antennas twitch, his gaze still unfocused. "Can't fix," he echoes, his voice a sad recitation. "Neuroplasticity, yes. Rewire, adapt. But cerebral cortex, permanent. Autism, permanent." Sponge Bob's eyes are wide, his mind reeling with the complexity of Plankton's words. "But, Plankton," he says, his voice quivering. "What about the Krabby Patties? Your plans?" Plankton's gaze snaps up, his hands still. "No plans," he says, his voice a sad echo. "No more steal." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his heart racing. "You don't want to steal the Krabby Patties anymore?" he asks, his voice filled with hope and disbelief. Plankton's antennas droop, his hands flapping slightly. "No more schemes," he whispers, his voice a monotone. "No more steal." His eye meet Sponge Bob's, a flicker of his old mischief briefly shining through. "But," he adds, his smile mischievous, "still have competitive spirit." His hands begin to flap with excitement. Sponge Bob's heart soars with relief, a smile spreading across his face. "So, you're still the same Plankton," he says, his voice filled with hope. "Just... different. Ok, cool!" Plankton nods, his smile a ghostly reflection of his usual self. "Different," he repeats, his voice a sad echo. "But still have friend?" His antennas wave slightly, his eye searching Sponge Bob's for reassurance. Sponge Bob's heart swells with affection. "Of course, Plankton," he says, his voice firm. "We're still friends. Nothing can change that." He squeezes Plankton's shoulder, trying to convey his support.

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vii (Autistic author) Sponge Bob's mind is racing, his heart thumping in his chest. He had never seen Plankton like this, and the sudden change was unnerving. "What happened to make you so..." he asks, his voice laced with curiosity. Plankton's smile broadens, his hands continuing their flapping dance. "Good book," he repeats. "Best friend." He pats the bed again, his gesture urging Sponge Bob to sit closer. Sponge Bob does, his gaze still locked on Plankton's. "But what happened?" he presses, his voice filled with concern. "You've never been this... this... affectionate before." Plankton's hands stop their flapping, his antennas drooping slightly. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes search his friend's, his concern growing with each repetition. "But Plankton, what's really going on?" he asks, his voice filled with urgency. "You've never talked like this before." Plankton's smile wavers, his hand reaching for the book. "Read," he says, his voice a monotone. "Happy book." Sponge Bob's eyes dart between Plankton's and the complex text before him. "But Plankton, I don't know what this means." Plankton's smile fades, his hands stilled. He looks at Sponge Bob with an unblinking stare, his mind racing. "Friend," he says, his voice flat. "Best friend." His gaze drops to the book, then back to Sponge Bob's face. "Read," he instructs, his tone firm. Sponge Bob's eyes widen, the weight of Plankton's stare heavy on his shoulders. He opens the book to a random page. "Ok," he says, his voice shaking slightly. "I'll try." He starts from the top, his pronunciation awkward and stilted. "Quantum Mechanics," he reads, his eyes squinting at the text. Sponge Bob's voice falters, the complexity of the words tripping his tongue. "Plankton, I don't understand any of this," he says, his voice filled with frustration. Plankton's eye widen, his smile fading. "Friend," he repeats, his voice strained. "Best friend." He grabs the book from Sponge Bob's hands, his movements suddenly frantic. "Read," he says, his voice a mix of desperation and joy. "Good book." Sponge Bob's heart races as he watches his friend's erratic behavior. He knows something is seriously off, but he's not sure what. "Plankton What's going on with you?" Plankton's smile flickers back, his hands stilling. He looks at Sponge Bob, his gaze intense. "Read," he repeats. "Best friend read." Sponge Bob nods, his throat tight. He tries again, his voice more confident this time. "Quantum Mechanics," he repeats. Plankton's smile brightens, his hands resuming their flutter. "Good," he says, his voice a monotone cheer. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's heart aches with concern, but he continues to read, hoping to find some comfort in the words for his friend. "Quantum Entanglement," he murmurs, his eyes scanning the page for any sign of understanding. Plankton's flapping grows more intense, his body rocking back and forth with excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes widen as he notices Plankton's erratic behavior, but he keeps reading, his voice steady and calm. "The universe," he says, his eyes skimming the page, "is a strange and wondrous place." Plankton's eye light up, his hands flapping rapidly. "Wondrous place," he echoes, his voice mirroring Sponge Bob's. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy cheeks reddening. "You're saying the same thing I just said," he points out, his voice filled with confusion. Plankton nods vigorously, his hands fluttering in the air. "You're saying same thing," he says, his voice a cheerful mimic of Sponge Bob's. "Wondrous place. Saying the same thing just said.." "Plankton," SpongeBob says, his voice urgent. "What's going on with you?" Plankton's smile is wide, but his gaze is distant, as if he's somewhere else entirely. "You're saying the same thing," he echoes again, his hands flapping in a rhythmic pattern that matches his words. Sponge Bob's eyes widen. "Plankton," he says, his voice strained. "You're just repeating me." He pauses, trying to gauge his friend's reaction. Plankton nods, his smile still in place. "Yes," he says, his voice a copy of Sponge Bob's. "You're repeating." His hands flap with excitement. Sponge Bob's concern grows, his eyes searching Plankton's for any sign of distress. "But why, Plankton?" he asks, his voice soft with worry. Plankton's smile falters, his hands stopping mid-flap. "But why?" he repeats, his voice a perfect echo of Sponge Bob's. "You're copying me," he says. "Why are you copying everything I say?" Plankton's eye refocus on Sponge Bob's face, his smile returning. "You're copying me why are you copying everything I say." Plankton echoed. Sponge Bob's trying to find a reason behind the behavior. "I'm asking you what's going on!" Plankton nods, his antennae waving slightly. "SpongeBob asking me what's going on," he mimics. Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his heart racing. "Plankton," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "This isn't funny. What's really happening?" "This isn't funny," he echoes Sponge Bob's tone. "What's happening?" Sponge Bob's heart sinks. "Plankton," he says, his voice shaking. "What's wrong with you?" Plankton's eye locked on Sponge Bob's. "Wrong with Plankton," he echoes. "What's wrong?" Sponge Bob's voice trembles as he speaks. "You're not acting like yourself," he says, his heart pounding. "You're just repeating everything I say." "You're repeating everything I say," he says, his voice a mirror. "Plankton," he says, his voice shaking. "Please, tell me what's going on." "Please tell me what's going on," he repeats, his voice a perfect match to Sponge Bob's. "You tell me." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with a mix of fear and desperation. "But, Plankton," he says, his voice trembling. "You're just repeating everything I say." He takes a deep breath, his mind racing to understand his friend's sudden change. Plankton's smile is unwavering, his hands still fluttering. "You're just repeating everything," he echoes. "I say." His voice is calm, his movements methodical. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of his friend. "Please, Plankton," he begs, his voice cracking with anger. But Plankton's response is only more of the same, his words a perfect echo of Sponge Bob's plea. "Please, Plankton," he repeats, his voice a mirror of pain. "Please.." "This isn't right," he says, his voice filled with frustration. "You're not acting normal." Plankton's smile falters for a moment, his hands stilling. "Not normal," he repeats, his voice a hollow echo. "You not acting right." Sponge Bob's frustration boils over. "I'm not the one who's changed!" he exclaims, his voice loud. "You're the one who's been acting weird and repeating everything I say!" "You're the one who's changed," he echoes, his voice still calm. "Weird. Repeating." Sponge Bob's anger flares, his spongy fists clenching. "No, Plankton!" he says, his voice rising. "You're the one who's different! You're not the same as before!" Plankton's smile fades, his hands coming to a halt. His gaze meets Sponge Bob's with a flicker of understanding. "Different," he says, his voice a flat echo. "Not same." Sponge Bob's anger turns to desperation. "What happened to you?" he asks, his voice cracking. "Why are you doing this?" Plankton's gaze is unyielding, his smile a forced imitation of happiness. "You doing this," he repeats, his voice a monotone. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with anger. "What are you talking about?" he demands, his hands clenching into fists. "I haven't done anything!" Plankton's smile flickers, his gaze dropping to his book. "You haven't done anything," he echoes, his voice a mirror of Sponge Bob's anger. "I have." Sponge Bob's eyes narrow, his confusion turning to anger. "What are you saying?" he asks, his voice sharp. Plankton's hands resuming their flapping. "I have book," he says, his voice calmer. "Good book. Happy book." Sponge Bob's anger dissipates, his confusion deepening. "But Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "What's the book got to do with anything?" "Book," he repeats, his voice a monotone chant. "Book, book." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to anger, his eyes narrowing. "What is it with this book?" he demands, his voice tight. "What's so special about it?" Plankton's smile flickers, his hands pausing in their flapping. "You and book," he says, his voice a monotone whisper. "Makes Plankton happy." SpongeBob grabs Plankton's wrists to stop the flapping, making Plankton finally stop his repetitive chanting. "What's gotten into you?" Sponge Bob asks, his voice shaking with anger and concern. "Are you just messing with me?" Plankton's smile fades, his antennas drooping. "No mess," he says, his voice a sad echo. He tries to pull his hands free, but Sponge Bob's grip tightens. Sponge Bob's eyes bore into his friend's, searching for anything that might explain this strange behavior. "Then what is it, Plankton?" he asks, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "What's going on?" Plankton's gaze flickers with a hint of sadness. "Accident," he whispers, his voice a hollow echo, his body tense.

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY v (Autistic author) The room falls into a tense silence, the air thick with the unspoken words of regret and uncertainty. Plankton's humming becomes the only sound in the room. Sandy's eyes are glued to Plankton, watching his hands move in a mesmerizing pattern. His humming grows slightly louder, filling the space around them with a comforting buzz. Despite the simplicity of the act, it's a powerful declaration of his new reality. "Plankton are you ok?" Sandy asks him. Plankton's humming stops abruptly, his gaze snaps to her. "Book," he says with longing. "Want book." Sandy nods, her eyes glistening with newfound understanding. "Of course," she says, standing up. She and Karen move to the shelf where she had placed the book earlier. Karen reaches up, her hand carefully retrieving it. "Here," she says, her voice calm, handing the science book to him. He opens it, his gaze immediately drawn to the index table in the back. His eye scans the rows, his brain finding comfort in the predictability of the page numbers. He starts to read the index aloud, his voice a monotone that fills the room with a strange rhythm. "Quantum Mechanics... 134," he reads, his finger tracing the line. "Relativity, Special and General... 212." Karen and Sandy listen, their expressions a mix of wonder and concern. They've never seen Plankton so engrossed in anything other than his own schemes before. Sandy's gaze follows the movement of his finger as it traces the numbers, her mind trying to grasp the significance of his actions. "Why does he read the index like that?" she whispers to Karen. Karen's smile is filled with both love and pride. "It's his way of finding order," she concurs. "The numbers, the patterns, it brings him comfort." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton. His focus on the book is intense, his voice a steady rhythm as he reads off the page numbers. "Biology... 37. Chemistry... 101," he drones. Karen sits beside him, her hand on his back, providing the gentle pressure he craves. The sound of his voice, the comfort of the book's familiar weight, it's all part of his new routine. Sandy sits opposite, her paws clasped in her lap, watching intently. Her gaze flickers from Plankton to Karen and back again. She's learning, trying to understand. Plankton's voice rises in excitement as he reaches the physics section. "Quantum Entanglement... 543!" he exclaims, his hands flapping. His eye lit up, a rare smile spreading across his face. Karen's smiles. This was the Plankton she knew, the one who found delight in the complexity of the universe. He reads on, his voice picking up speed. "String Theory... 621! Gravity Waves... 784!" His stimming becomes more animated, his hands fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, each flap a silent declaration of his newfound obsession with order. Sandy's curiosity is piqued, but she's careful not to interrupt, instead watching him with a newfound respect. Karen smiles, her hand still on his back, feeling the warmth of his excitement through her metal shell. "Plankton, why do you like the index so much?" Sandy asks, keeping her voice soft, when the doorbell rings. Karen's head snaps up, the interrupted moment forgotten. "I'll get it," she says, standing quickly. SpongeBob's face appears in the doorway. "Hi, Karen!" he says, his voice bright and cheerful. "Hi, Sandy!" Sandy's eyes dart to the closed bedroom door, then back to Karen. "I should go," she says, standing up. "Let you guys have some space." Karen nods, her gaze following Sandy's. "Thank you," she whispers. "Bye Sandy. Sponge Bob, come on in; Plankton's in the bedroom.." SpongeBob's now going in, his eyes wide with excitement. "What's up, Plankton?" he says, his voice a bubbly burst of enthusiasm. Plankton's head snaps up, his eye wide. "SpongeBob," he says, his voice excitedly affectionate. Sponge Bob's eyes widen at the sight of Plankton's intense focus on the book. "Wow, Plankton, you're really into that, huh?" Plankton's hands stop moving, his gaze shifting from the index to Sponge Bob's smiling face. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice filled with glee. He jumps up from the bed, the book forgotten as he rushes to embrace his friend. Sponge Bob stumbles backward, surprise etched on his features as Plankton's arms wrap around his waist. "Whoa, buddy," he says, his eyes wide. "What's gotten into you?" Plankton's grip tightens, his body vibrating with joy. "Sponge Bob," he repeats, his voice a high-pitched squeak. Sponge Bob's smile falters, his hands awkwardly patting Plankton's back. "It's ok, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "I'm just here to visit." Plankton pulls away, his eye shining with joy with a warmth Sponge Bob isn't used to seeing from him. "Come, sit," he says, his voice eager. He pats the spot on the bed next to him. Sponge Bob's expression is a mix of happiness and concern. Sponge Bob sits down, his body tense. "Plankton, you ok?" he asks, his eyes searching Plankton's. Plankton nods, his hands still flapping in excitement. "Good," he says, his voice monotone yet earnest.

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vi (Autistic author) Plankton holds up the science book he had been clutching, the pages fluttering in his excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes flick to the book, then back to Plankton's face. "You're acting different." Plankton's smile falters, his hands stilling momentarily. "No bad," he insists, his voice a bit too cheerful. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes search Plankton's, trying to read the truth behind his words. "But you've never been this... affectionate before," he says, his voice tentative. Plankton's smile widens. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice a sing-song. "You are good friend." He leans in closer, his antennas quivering. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen further, his spongy cheeks reddening. "Plankton, what's going on?" he asks, his tone filled with confusion. "You've never said that before." Plankton's smile only grows broader. "No bad," he repeats, his voice still monotone. "Good day. Happy." He starts to rock back and forth on the bed, his hands flapping in a pattern that seems almost... happy? Sponge Bob's confusion deepens. Plankton had never been one to show affection, let alone so openly. "What's going on?" he asks again, his voice laced with concern. Plankton's response is a repetitive giggle, his eye locked on Sponge Bob's face. "Good day," he says, his hands flapping in a pattern that matches his words. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen in surprise. Plankton nods vigorously, his hands flapping rapidly. "Very happy," he says, his voice high and excited. "Best friend happy." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to concern. "Plankton, are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's giggle turns to a laugh, a sound Sponge Bob rarely hears from him. "Yes," he says, his voice still monotone. "Happy." Sponge Bob watches his friend, his heart racing. "What happened to you?" he asks, his concern growing with each passing moment. Plankton's laughter fades into a grin. "No bad," he says, his hands still fluttering in the air. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with worry. "What's really going on?" Plankton's grin turns into a frown, his hands stopping their motion. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "No bad. Happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with confusion, but he can't ignore the desperation in Plankton's tone. He reaches out, his hand resting gently on Plankton's arm. "But why are you so happy?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. Plankton's frown deepens, his mind racing to find the right words. "Because," he says, his voice strained. "I have friend. Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his hand still on Plankton's arm. "But we've always been friends," he says, his voice filled with confusion. Plankton's smile is wide, his eye unblinking. "Yes," he says, his voice still monotone. "Best friends. Happy." Sponge Bob's mind races. Something is clearly different about Plankton, but he doesn't know what. "But, Plankton," he starts, his voice tentative. "What happened to make you so... so...?" He struggles for the right word. Plankton's smile fades slightly, his gaze dropping to the book in his lap. "Book," he says, his voice flat. "Good book." Sponge Bob nods, trying to follow the conversation. "Yeah, it looks interesting," he says, his eyes searching for a clue. But Plankton's gaze is fixed on the book, his hands resuming their rhythmic flapping. "Good book," he repeats, his voice a gentle mantra. Sponge Bob's eyes flick from the book to Plankton's hands, his mind racing to connect the dots. "Is something wrong, Plankton?" he asks, his voice soft with worry. Plankton's hands stop their flapping abruptly, his eye snapping to Sponge Bob's face. "No wrong," he says, his voice earnest. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's expression is one of bewilderment. "But you've always liked your science books," he says, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the situation. "What's different about this one?" Plankton's smile returns, his hands resuming their flapping. "This one," he says, his voice filled with a newfound enthusiasm. "Good book. Happy book." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy heart swelling with a mixture of joy and concern. "What makes this one so special?" Plankton's hands flutter with excitement as he opens the book to a random page. "Look," he says, his voice a high-pitched squeak. "See?" Sponge Bob leans in, his eyes scanning the dense text filled with scientific terms. He nods, trying to appear engaged, though he has no clue what he's looking at. "Wow, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with forced enthusiasm. "That's... really interesting." Plankton's smile widens, his hands flapping in excitement. "Yes," he says, his voice a cheerful monotone. "Good book." Sponge Bob nods, still confused but not wanting to rain on his friend's parade. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it," he says, his voice warm. Plankton's hands stop moving momentarily. "Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "You are best friend." He leans in closer, his antennas quivering with excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes widen in surprise as he feels a sudden wave of warmth and affection from Plankton, something that's never been present in their usually antagonistic friendship. "What's going on, Plankton?" he asks, his voice filled with curiosity. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Plankton's smile doesn't waver. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice still monotone. "You are good. You make Plankton happy." "What's happened to make you so affectionate, Plankton?" Sponge Bob's question hangs in the air, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected warmth from his usually adversarial friend. Plankton's response is a repetitive giggle, his hands resuming their flapping. "No bad," he says, his voice cheerful. "Good day." He pats the bed next to him. "Sit, Sponge Bob. Read book." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy body frozen in place. "I don't think I can read that, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with uncertainty. "It's really complicated." Plankton nods, his smile remaining constant. "It's okay," he says, his voice soothing. "You try." He pushes the book closer to Sponge Bob, his hand guiding him to the page. Sponge Bob hesitates, his thumb flipping through the pages. The words are a blur of symbols and numbers, his mind struggling to make sense of them. "But, Plankton, I don't understand any of this," he admits, his voice filled with frustration. Plankton's hand stops him, his eye wide with excitement. "Doesn't matter," he says, his voice cheerful. "You are here. Best friend." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to concern. "But Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "You're not acting like yourself." Plankton's smile fades slightly, his hands stilling. "Self," he repeats, his voice contemplative. He looks at Sponge Bob, his eye searching his friend's face for understanding. Sponge Bob's expression is one of confusion and concern. "Is this a joke?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's smile falters for a moment before growing wider. "No joke," he says, his voice a singsong. "Happy." He pats the bed again, his hand a silent invitation. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with compassion. He sits down beside his friend. "Plankton," he starts, his voice tentative. "Is everything ok?" Plankton nods vigorously, his hands flapping with excitement. "Everything is good," he says, his voice a monotone cheer. "Best day." Sponge Bob's gaze lingers on his friend, searching for any sign of distress. "But, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with uncertainty. "You're not usually like this." Plankton's smile never fades. "Don't know," he says, his voice calm. "But now, happy." Sponge Bob's heart clenches, his fears for his friend's well-being growing stronger. "But what about your schemes?" he asks, his voice hopeful. Plankton's eye blinks, the thought of his usual plans of world domination momentarily forgotten. "Schemes?" he repeats, his voice confused. Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah, you know, your plans to steal the Krabby Patty secret formula," he says, his tone light. Plankton's smile falters, his hands stopping their flapping. "Krabby Patty?" he asks, his voice distant. "No want Krabby Patty. Happy." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy mind racing. "You don't want to steal the formula?" he asks, his voice incredulous, now really suspicious. Plankton shakes his head, his antennas swaying slightly. "No," he says, his voice still monotone. "Only happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with confusion, but he can't ignore the genuine smile on his friend's face. "Okay, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "If you're happy, then I'm happy for you." Plankton's eye lit up, his hands flapping with excitement. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "Best friend."

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY iii (Autistic author) The sound of the door opening interrupted. Sandy barged in. "Hey, Karen!" she called out. "Hi, Sandy; come in.." Karen says. Sandy looked over at Plankton sitting at the kitchen table, his plate empty, his gaze fixed on the spot where his food had been. "Hey, Plankton!" she exclaimed, as he got up to go sit on the living room floor with a science book. She followed him. "What's up, buddy?" she asked, her voice cheerful. But Plankton ignored her, his focus solely on the pages in front of him. Karen watched their interaction with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Plankton, you ok?" Sandy's voice grew softer, her eyes narrowing as she studied her friend. "You seem... different." Karen tensed, waiting for his response. Plankton didn't look up from his book, his eye scanning the pages. "Plankton?" Sandy tried again, her voice a mix of confusion and concern. But Plankton remained oblivious, his new condition rendering him unable to read social cues. "Why?" he asked, his tone matter-of-fact, as if inquiring about the weather. Sandy's smile faltered. "Well, you're just sitting there, not saying anything," she said, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. Plankton didn't look up from his book. "Reading," he said, his voice devoid of any inflection. Sandy's confusion grew into hurt. "Is everything ok?" she asked, her voice tentative. Plankton, still engrossed in his book, didn't look up. "Ok," he murmured. Sandy's known Plankton for years, but his behavior today was unlike anything she had ever seen. Karen prompts him. "Plankton, say hello to Sandy." He glances up from his book, his gaze passing over her without recognition. "Say, say hi Sandy," he says, his voice lacking any warmth. Sandy's smile fades, her paws clenching slightly with irritation. "What's gotten into you, Plankton?" she snaps, her voice sharper than she had intended. "You're acting like you don't even know me!" Karen's circuits whir with activity. "Sandy, it's okay," she hesitates, not quite sure how to explain without revealing the truth. "I'll go pick up some soda pop drinks." She says, leaving them both. Sandy watches her leave, her expression a mix of anger and hurt. She turns to Plankton. "What's your deal, Plankton?" she asks, her voice tight. "You've been acting weird ever since I got here." Plankton's eye snaps to hers, his gaze unnervingly intense. "Weird," he repeats, as if processing the word for the first time. "Different." Sandy's anger bubbles to the surface. "Yeah, you're different. You're ignoring me!" she exclaims, her paws on her hips. Plankton's expression doesn't change. "Reading," he says simply. Her frustration grows. "You're always reading, Plankton," Sandy says, her voice rising. "But you've never ignored me like this before!" Plankton's eye blinks, his focus shifting to her. "Sorry," he says, the word a mere echo of what he used to express. It's clear his social awareness has shifted. He doesn't understand the subtleties of her emotions anymore. Sandy's hurt turns to anger. "You don't just say sorry and go back to ignoring me," she snaps. "What's going on with you?" But Plankton seems lost in his own world, the words on the pages of his book more real to him than the friend standing before him. Sandy's patience wears thin. "Why aren't you listening to me?" she demands. "Listening," Plankton murmurs, his gaze never leaving the book. Sandy's eyes widen, her anger building. "I'm right here!" she says, her voice a mix of frustration and sadness. "What is so important that you can't even look at me?" But Plankton's mind is elsewhere, his thoughts racing through the pages of his book. The words swim before his eye, each line a puzzle waiting to be solved. He's oblivious to Sandy's hurt, his world now filtered through a new, more intense lens. Sandy's voice pierces through his concentration, her tone sharp. "I said, why aren't you listening to me?" Plankton looks up, his eye dilating slightly as he takes in Sandy's stance. He tries to interpret her body language. "Plankton reading," he says, his voice still flat, his gaze drifting back to the book. Sandy's eyes flash with anger. "That's not what I asked, Plankton!" she says, her voice rising. "What's going on with you? Why are you ignoring me?" Plankton's gaze flicks back to her, his expression still vacant. "Reading," he repeats. The word feels like a shield, a way to explain the inexplicable. Sandy's eyes narrow, her paws snatching the book from his grasp. Plankton's eye widens in surprise at the sudden movement. He tries to retrieve the book, body moving in jerky motions. "Book," he says, his voice still monotone. Sandy holds it out of reach. "Look at me Plankton!" Plankton's arms flail, his body straining to retrieve the book. "Book," he says, his voice desperate, his mind overwhelmed. Sandy, unable to understand feels her own anger flare up. "What's your problem?" she snaps, holding the book higher. "You're acting like a little kid!" Plankton's eye locks onto the book. "Mine," he whispers, voice strained. Sandy's seen him at his worst, but this is something she can't comprehend. "I'm not a toy for you to ignore!" she shouts. She hid the book on a high shelf. Plankton's body tenses. "Mine," he repeats, his voice rising in desperation. Sandy's eyes fill with tears of frustration. "Why are you acting like this?" He stands up, his body shaking. "MINE," he shouts. "What's gotten into you? Why are you being like this?" Plankton's eye darts around the room, unable to hold Sandy's gaze. "Plankton, you're acting like a complete jerk," Sandy says, her voice shaking. "No wonder Karen is always so tired with you." "Karen," Plankton murmurs. "Karen ok?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. Sandy throws her arms in the air, exasperated. "How can you be so selfish? Don't you know that Karen is sick of you?" "Sick of me?" he echoes. "Yes, sick of you," she snaps. "Why don't you try acting normal? Perhaps then Karen would be happier! Or better yet, leave her!" The words hang in the air like a toxic cloud, their sting hitting Plankton's core. But his new brain can't process the depth of her anger. "Karen happy," he whispers, his voice a broken echo of his former self. Sandy's eyes flash with rage. "You don't know anything," she spits out, her words like acid. "You're just a selfish, self-centered plankton who doesn't care about how Karen feels!" Plankton's concepts of "selfish" and "sick of" are foreign to his new way of thinking. He tries to find the patterns in her words, the logic in her accusations, but it's like trying to solve an impossible equation. "No," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Karen not sick of me?" "You really don't get it, do you?" she says, her voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "You're so caught up you can't see what's right in front of you! Karen doesn't deserve this!" Plankton's eye narrows slightly, his mind struggling to piece together the puzzle of her emotions. "Karen happy," he repeats, his voice strained. Sandy's anger turns to despair. "You don't even know what you're saying," she says, her voice heavy. "You're so wrapped up in your own little world that you can't see how much Karen does for you, and how much you hurt her." As if on cue, Karen returns with coffee. "I'm back," she says, her voice a gentle hum. She notices the tension in the room and Plankton's distress. "Is everything ok?" she asks, placing the drinks on the table. Sandy glares at Plankton. "No," she says, her voice shaking. "Everything is not ok. Plankton's been acting weird all morning and, I told him how you're always tired of him, and he just doesn't get it." Karen takes in the scene. She tries to intervene gently. "Sandy, I think there's something you should know," she begins, but Sandy cuts her off, turning to Plankton. "See? Even Karen thinks you're a burden!" Plankton's world shatters. Sandy's words hit him like a tidal wave, her accusations sinking into his new reality. His teary gaze locks onto Karen, desperation in his voice. "Burden?" he croaks. Karen's circuits racing as she tries to smooth over the situation. "No, Sandy," she says, her voice calm but firm. "That's not what I said." "Don't lie to me, Karen," Sandy snaps, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "I can see you've had enough and if Plankton can't see that, then perhaps it's best if he just leaves." Karen's circuits race with a mix of emotions - anger at Sandy's accusations, sadness at Plankton's distress, and fear of what this means for their friendship. "That's not true," she says, yet Plankton's searching for any hint of deception. Sandy's eyes are steely, her body language confrontational. "Why don't you just leave her alone?" she spits out, her voice thick with frustration. Plankton stands up, his sobs echoed through the corridor as he runs back to the bedroom, shutting the door with a thud. "Sandy that was uncalled for," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. Sandy's anger turns to surprise. "What are you talking about?" she says. "I'm just telling the truth.." Karen's expression is a mix of sorrow and anger, her voice tight. "You don't know what he's going through." Sandy's anger fades, replaced by confusion. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice softer. Karen takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she had been dreading. "Plankton had an accident, hit his head on the vault and got knocked out." Sandy's in shock. "What? Is he ok?" she asks. Karen sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Plankton has autism now," she says. "He can't help the way he's acting." The revelation hits Sandy like a ton of bricks. The realization of her own harshness crashes over her. "Oh no," she murmurs, her eyes filling with tears. "I had no idea." Her gaze drifts to the closed bedroom door. "What have I done?" she whispers, her voice cracking.

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| |ᥫ᭡.

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