Neurodivergent Characters Emojis & Text

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

** ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᴬᵘᵗⁱˢᵗⁱᶜ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴬᵘᵗⁱˢᵐ ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᴬᴵ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐʸ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * One fateful afternoon, Plankton meandered along the beach, lost in thought, an unexpected event unfolded. A tennis match, played by tourists near by, sent stray balls hurtling towards him. A tennis ball struck him squarely on the head. As he stumbled to his feet, dizzy and disoriented, the world around him had changed. Plankton found himself struggling with simple tasks that once came so naturally. His job at the local bait shop grew increasingly difficult as he often forgot names. His social interactions grew strained, as he found it hard to read the subtle cues of conversation and often took things too literally. The doctor's diagnosis was clear: the impact had left him with a mild form of autism for life. Karen, ever the rock in their marriage, took the news with a mix of shock and determination. She knew this would be a journey of adaptation for both of them. She dedicated herself to helping Plankton navigate the new landscape of his reality. His mind, now more analytical and detail-oriented, sought patterns and understanding in the overwhelming information. It was as if he had developed an insatiable hunger for knowledge, and this soon dominated their dinner conversations. "Karen," he began, "I've been thinking about the diagnosis." They were at the kitchen table. She looked up from her plate. "We can just keep this between us, Sheldon." "Karen," Plankton insisted, "I think we need to consider what this means for the Chum Bucket." "The Chum Bucket will be fine. You're still you. Just with a different way of seeing the world. You're seeing patterns no one else does. Let's focus on how we can harness that instead of worrying about what you lost." The idea took root in Plankton's mind, growing into a newfound sense of purpose. If he couldn't outsmart Krabs in their usual cat-and-mouse game, perhaps he could out-pattern him. His mind raced with the possibilities, the wheels of his imagination spinning faster than ever before. "If I could see patterns where he doesn't, we could finally steal the Krabby Patty secret!" He began to fidget in his chair, his legs bouncing up and down, a silent metronome to his racing thought. "But what if Krabs finds out? You know how he is, Karen. If he gets even the slightest whiff of weakness, he'll be on us." Karen nodded solemnly. "But you're not weak, Plankton. You're just... different. And if he does we'll deal with it together like everything else." Her words resonated with him and a newfound resolve shone in his eye. "You're right," he murmured. "We'll turn this into an advantage." Plankton retreated to his lab, the cobwebs of doubt slowly giving way to a tangible plan. He pored over blueprints and formulae, his mind racing with thoughts with his newfound focus, a stark contrast to the days when he had flitted from one idea to the next without clear direction. He dissected every encounter with Krabs, searching for patterns in his rival's behavior. His mind was a whirlwind of calculations, predicting Krabs' every move, anticipating his countermoves, and preparing for the ultimate heist. His once cluttered lab now had a method to its madness. The floor was clear of scattered inventions, and his desk was organized into neat piles of notes. His thoughts were no longer scattered; they were sharp. Karen supported him, bringing him snacks and encouraging him to take breaks, for she knew that his mind was fully consumed by his mission. The day finally came when Plankton announced that he was ready to put his new skills to the test. "Karen," he said with a steely glint in his eye, "I'm going to the Krusty Krab." "But Plankton, You haven't been since before..." "It's time. I've figured out a pattern in Krabs' security. There's a blindspot during the lunch rush." Plankton set out. The restaurant bustled with the usual sea of patrons, a cacophony of noise that Plankton found both overwhelming and fascinating. He took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand, and slipped inside. Making his way to the back, he spotted the safe in Krabs' office. His new analytical mind dissected the room with ease, noting the routine of the employees, the subtle cues in their movements that pointed to the flow of customers, and the exact moment when the chaos of the lunch rush would hit its peak. Timing was everything, and Plankton knew the moment had arrived. He slipped into the office. The combination lock stared back at him, a silent sentinel to the secret he sought. His mind raced through the patterns he had observed in Krabs' behavior, the way he tapped his claw against the desk when nervous, the time he took to drink his tea, the exact moment when his gaze would flick to the safe when the topic of the Krabby Patty formula came up. Plankton took a deep breath, his eye tracing the dial as he dialed in the sequence. The clicks of the tumblers falling into place were the sweetest symphony he had ever heard. With trembling hands, he pulled the heavy door open, revealing the treasure trove with in. His eye fell upon the secret bottle, its contents a murky mystery that could change his life forever. His heart thudded in his chest, a drum roll to the crescendo of his plan. "Plankton!" boomed a voice. He whirled around to find Mr. Krabs, claws balled into fists. The room spun, and the noises of the restaurant outside grew distant. "What do you think you're doing?" Krabs demanded, his eyes bulging with rage. Plankton's brain scrambled for a lie, but his newfound honesty and directness took over. "I've come for the Krabby Patty secret." Mr. Krabs sneered, "You're insane, Plankton. You'll never understand the brilliance of me creation." "But I see patterns now, where I used to see only chaos.." Plankton trails off before he could reveal more. Mr. Krabs took a step closer. "What are you talking about? Patterns? I don't know what you're blabbering on about, but you're not leaving here with that!" He lunged, but Plankton was ready. Using his heightened senses and the patterns he had studied, Plankton sidestepped the attack with surprising grace. The Krabby Patty secret was in his grasp, but he knew to take it back to the Chum Bucket. He sprinted out of the office. The din of the restaurant faded into the background as he weaved through the kitchen, dodging flying spatulas and the frenetic dance of the cooks. The heat from the grills washed over him but he didn't flinch. His eye remained locked on the swinging doors to the alley outside. Karen was waiting for him. Without a word, she opened the hidden hatch that led back to the Chum Bucket. Plankton squeezed through, the warmth of the stolen secret a comforting weight. They descended into the dimly lit lab. Karen looked at him with a mix of amazement and pride. "You did it," she whispered. Plankton's chest heaved with the exertion of his escape. "Yes," he panted, "but Krabs knows I have it." Plankton carefully removed the paper from the bottle, his eye scanning the list. The words and numbers swam but he focused, his mind slicing through the jumble. The list was not in English, but a cryptic code that only Krabs could decipher. The symbols and letters danced in a maddening ballet, but he could feel the tide of understanding beginning to turn. His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle with a speed and precision that astonished even him. He turned to Karen. "It's a code based on the Fibonacci sequence!" "Fibonacci?" Plankton nodded fervently, his antennae waving with excitement. "It's a numerical sequence, Karen. One, one, two, three, five, eight... It appears in nature, in the spiral of a shell, the arrangement of leaves on a stem, the branching of trees. It's a pattern that's been used in everything from art to mathematics!" Karen's trying to make sense of the seemingly random strings of digits and letters. "But how? Nevermind, I hear Krabs breaking in!" Plankton began to recite the ingredients in their proper order, translating the code as he went. "Kelp powder, four... Tartar sauce, one... Mustard seeds, three... Onion powder, five!" The lab door crashed open and Mr. Krabs' furious red face filled the doorway. "Give it back, you tiny menace!" But Plankton was already several steps ahead. With lightning-quick reflexes, he transferred the information from the paper to his photographic memory, his mind now a fortress that contained the Krabby Patty's sacred recipe. Krabs snatched the paper with a snarl, his claw closing around it like a vice. He glared at Plankton, eyes alight with fury. "You think you're so clever don't you?" But Plankton remained silent. The code was in his mind now and no one could take that from him. He had outsmarted Krabs with his own patterns, using the very neurodivergence that had made him feel weak to gain the upper hand. Mr. Krabs looked from the paper to Plankton and back again with suspicion, his claw tightening around the seemingly worthless paper. "You think you've won?" he spat. "You'll never understand the genius behind me Krabby Patties!" With that, Mr. Krabs stormed out of the Chum Bucket with his usual sneer, the worthless paper clutched in his claw. Plankton watched him go, his heart racing. He had done it. He had bested Krabs. As the echo of the slammed door faded away, he turned to Karen, his eye alight with victory. "We've got it," he whispered, his voice quivering with excitement. "The Krabby Patty secret is ours."

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

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

┌ ⃟🧠̶͞⇣

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆˙⟡♡⚕🩺⊹ 🤍

COMPUTER SENSORS i * "Karen!" Hanna exclaimed, throwing her arms around Karen in a warm embrace. "You made it!" Karen beamed. "Is the husband home?" Hanna asked, glancing around. "In our bedroom," Karen answers. "I don't think you've met!" Hanna followed Karen through the hallway. She'd heard of Karen's husband, Plankton, but had never formally met each other. Inside, Plankton sat on the edge of the bed. "Plankton, this is my friend Hanna," Karen announced, screen sparkling with excitement. Plankton looked up. He hadn't been expecting company, especially not someone so bubbly and vibrant. "Oh, Plankton," Hanna gushed, reaching out to him. She was a hugger, and she didn't hold back. She enveloped him. Plankton stiffened. It was... overwhelming. "It's so nice to finally meet you," Hanna said, her voice thick with sincerity. Hanna, ever the social butterfly, didn't seem to notice his discomfort. She plopped down on the bed beside him, her energy not even slightly dampened. "So, what do you guys have planned for the evening?" she asked, screen bright with excitement. "Well, we were just going to order in and watch a movie," Karen replied, shooting Plankton a knowing smile. She knew he liked his quiet evenings. "A movie night, huh?" Hanna clapped her hands together. "What's the film? I can stay and join!" Plankton wasn't one for sharing his personal space, especially with someone he just met. The bedroom was his sanctuary, a place of solitude where he could escape the world and be himself. Plankton managed a tight smile, his heart sinking. He wasn't in the mood for a romantic comedy, let alone one with Hanna's constant commentary and unbridled laughter. Karen quickly interjected. "Actually, Hanna, Plankton had his heart set on a sci-fi marathon tonight. You know, his usual Friday night routine." "Oh, I totally get it," she said, patting him. Plankton stiffened at her touch, his eye widening slightly. "Oooh, I know just the thing!" she exclaimed, jumping up and talking fast. "Karen, you won't believe this but I've got a DVD of 'Galactic Hearts' in my bag. It's got a bit of everything: romance, action, and a side of existential dread. Perfect for a Friday night in, right?" Plankton sighed inwardly. He knew he'd have to sit through it, if only to keep the peace. "Alright," he said, his voice tight. "Let's give it a go." With a resigned sigh, he trudged out to the kitchen to grab some popcorn and drinks. When he returned, Hanna had already claimed the spot beside him, leaving him no choice but to sit next to her, so he did, for Karen. The movie started, and Hanna was immediately engrossed, laughing and gasping at all the right moments. Plankton, on the other hand, felt like he was in an alien world of his own. Every time the romantic tension on screen built up, she would lean over and whisper something to Karen, who would giggle in response. The constant movement and noise were making his skin crawl. As the film went on, Hanna grew more and more absorbed in the love story unfolding before them. At one particularly dramatic scene, she reached over and grabbed Plankton's arm. "Oh, isn't this just the most romantic thing you've ever seen?" She gave him a squeeze not realizing the discomfort she was causing him. "Look at those stars," she whispered leaning closer. "It's just like they're reaching out to each other, isn't it?" Plankton shifted. He'd never been one for public displays of affection, and Hanna's affection was uncharted territory. He gently extracted his hand, placing it awkwardly on his lap. "I s'pose," he murmured, trying to keep his voice neutral. time she leaned in to whisper something to Karen, she brushed against him, sending a shiver down his spine. The movie's soundtrack swelled with a sappy love theme, and Hanna threw her arm around both their shoulders. Plankton stiffened. The room felt suddenly too warm, too small. He'd never been one for affection, especially not from someone he'd just met, and Hanna's touch was suffocating him. Her arm remained draped around his shoulders, her grip tightening every time the couple on-screen shared a tender moment. He tried to focus on the plot, but it was difficult with Hanna's sudden exclamations and loud sighs punctuating the silence. Karen seemed to be enjoying it, though, and he didn't want to spoil the evening. So, he sat, endured, and waited for the credits to roll. As the movie progressed, Hanna grew bolder with her displays of affection. She'd lean in close, her shoulder pressing into his, and whisper her predictions for the plot. He glanced at Karen, hoping for a reprieve, but she was caught up in the moment. Plankton sighed and turned back to the movie, trying to ignore the heat building in him. Hanna's hand found its way to Plankton's shoulder again. This time, she didn't let go. He cleared his throat, trying to subtly shift his body away from her touch, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the weight of her arm and the way she kept brushing against him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, begging for the solitude he craved. Hanna let out a contented sigh, her grip on Plankton's shoulder tightening involuntarily. He flinched, and she finally looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice full of concern. "It's nothing," Plankton said, his voice tight. Hanna looked at him. "Oh, I get it," she said, her hand moving from his shoulder to give his knee a comforting pat. "Sometimes romantic scenes can be too much, huh?" Plankton nodded stiffly. Then, Hanna leaned over and whispered, "You know Plankton you're not so bad for a guy who pretends not to like romance." She elbows him, her touch playful and teasing. Plankton's eye widened, his heart racing faster than the spaceship on the screen. He tried to laugh it off, his voice strained. He tried to keep his expression neutral. She leaned in closer, her arm now looped around his. "I think you're secretly a softy." Plankton's discomfort grew. He swallowed hard, his eye darting to Karen for help, but she was too lost in the film to notice his distress. He cleared his throat again, trying to be subtle, but they're oblivious. Karen looked over at her husband, her smile fading slightly as she noticed his rigid posture. She knew he wasn't a fan of the film, but she didn't realize Hanna's personality was making him so uncomfortable. Hanna jumped up from the couch. "Oh my gosh, you guys," she exclaimed a little too loud, her screen bright with excitement. "That was the best movie ever!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Karen couldn't help but laugh. "You really liked it?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. "Liked it?" Hanna repeated, her voice incredulous. "I'm in love with it!!" Her exuberance was palpable, but Plankton remained silent. He felt a mix of relief that the movie was over and dread for whatever might come next. Hanna, noticing his lack of response, turned to him with a grin. "What did you think, Plankton?" Plankton felt uncomfortable under her gaze. "It's just not really my genre," he said, his voice a touch defensive. Hanna's smile didn't falter. "Oh, come on," she said, nudging him playfully. "Admit it, you were totally rooting for them in the end." "Oh, I was," Plankton said, his voice devoid of enthusiasm. "I was just hoping the asteroid might hit the spaceship first." Karen couldn't help but laugh, seeing the playful banter between her friend and her husband. "Ok ok," she said, standing up and stretching. "I think we've had enough romance for one night. How about we switch gears and play a board game?" Hanna bounced, her energy unflagging. "Perfect! What do you have?" Plankton started to feel dizzy. "I'll grab something," he said, his voice tight. He needed to get away, to regain some semblance of control over the situation. He retreated to the bedroom, going on his bed. ** ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ *

CONSOLE TONSIL ii * As the door clicked shut, Karen noticed how Plankton's body stiffened, eye open but unseeing. "Plankton?" she called out, her voice a gentle prodding into his absent-mindedness. He didn't respond. His eye remained open, but it was as if the light behind it had gone out. This wasn’t the first time Karen had seen him dizzily scatterbrained from overload, yet it was eerie to witness such shock. His body remained still, his chest rising and falling with his shallow breaths, yet there was no response to her touch or voice. It was like he was there, but not there at the same time. The room grew quiet. She leaned closer. "Plankton, can you hear me?" she whispered. His eye remained unblinking. "Plankton, talk to me," Karen urged, her voice a gentle coax. His only ‘response’ was the shallow rise and fall of his chest, his eye unblinking. Karen realized the depth of his withdrawal; Hanna's words had triggered a sensory shutdown. The room grew colder as Plankton retreated into himself, his eye glazed over like a still pond reflecting the fear and confusion rippling through him. Karen knew she needed to tread lightly. She had seen this before, during moments of intense stress or overstimulation. "Plankton," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "You're not a burden, you know that." Her hand reached out, stroking his arm in gentle, soothing motions. "You're just tired. Let's focus on getting you better." The room was still, the only sound being the tick of the clock echoing through the silence. Karen's screen never left Plankton's unresponsive face, her mind racing to find the right words, the right touch to pull him back from the edge of his isolation. "Plankton," she said again, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're ok. You're home." Her hand continued its soft, rhythmic motion on his arm, a silent lullaby to his fractured thoughts. Slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep, Plankton's eye blinked. The fog in his gaze started to clear, his pupil focusing on Karen's concerned face. He took a deep, shaky breath, wincing as the pain in his throat shot up like a warning flare. "You're ok," Karen repeated, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. "You're home, and I'm here with you." Plankton's breathing grew more even, the tension in his body slowly seeping away as he focused on her voice, her touch. The pain in his throat was a constant reminder of the surgery, but it was the emotional pain that weighed heavier on him. Karen waited patiently, her hand never stopping its gentle caress, her voice a steady stream of comfort. "You're not a burden," she repeated, her tone soothing. "You're my best friend, Plankton. We’re home. I'm here for you, always." Plankton blinked again, the reality of his situation seeping in. "Home," he murmured. "Thank you, Karen." "You're welcome. I'm here for you." The words hung in the air, the silence thick and heavy. Karen could see the internal battle playing out on Plankton's face, the war between his pride and his need for comfort. His hand reached out again, this time with more intention, and he gently squeezed hers. "I'm sorry," he croaked out, his voice still raw. "I didn't mean to scare you." Karen leaned in closer, her screen filled with a gentle understanding. "You don't ever have to apologize for how you feel," she said softly. "We're in this together." Plankton's grip tightened, his eye finally focusing on hers with a hint of gratitude. He took another deep breath, the pain a stark contrast to the warmth in the room. "What...what is Hanna doing now?" he asked, his voice a whisper of curiosity. "I don't know," Karen replied truthfully. "But she's not here to bother us. You need to rest, ok?" Plankton nodded weakly, his grip loosening. Karen felt a twinge of sadness as she saw the exhaustion etched on his features. She knew he was trying to be strong, but the weight of the day's events was too much for anyone to bear alone. "Rest," she encouraged, her voice firm but gentle. "I'll be right here if you need anything." Plankton's nod was almost imperceptible, but Karen took it as his silent agreement. She pulled the blanket up to his chin, tucking him in as if he were a child, and sat in the chair beside his bed, her hand still in his. The warmth of their intertwined fingers was a small but significant comfort in the face of his overwhelming fears. The minutes ticked by. Karen watched him closely, waiting for his breathing to deepen, his eyelid to droop. It was a slow process, but eventually, the exhaustion won. She heard a faint snore, a sign that he had finally succumbed to sleep. His hand went slack in hers, and she carefully extracted her hand, placing it on the bedside table. She took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging with relief. Her mind raced with what had happened. Hanna's words had clearly struck a nerve, and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger at her friend's thoughtlessness. Plankton had always been self-conscious about his size and his perceived weaknesses, and to hear such harsh words from someone Karen cared about had to be devastating. Karen felt a mix of anger and sadness as she approached Hanna, her mind playing back the haunting image of Plankton's lifeless stare. "Hanna," she began, her voice firm but measured. "We need to talk." Hanna looked up. "What you said in front of Plankton, though not meant to be malicious," Karen began, her voice low but steady. "It was hurtful and unnecessary. Plankton has...challenges. Neurodivergent challenges." Hanna's confused. "What do you mean?" "It means," Karen said, sitting down next to her, "that Plankton perceives and reacts to the world differently than we do. It affects how he processes information, how he interacts with people, and how he handles stress." "What happened after I left?" Hanna finally asked, her voice tentative. Karen took a deep breath, preparing to recount the events that had unfolded. "He had a...a reaction," she said. "He couldn't handle the stress anymore. His mind just sort of...shut down. He just...froze still. It's like his body was there, but he wasn't. He didn’t respond to anything I said or did." Hanna's hand flew to her mouth, horrified. "His eye were open, but he was...gone, somewhere else. I've seen it before, but never this severe. At first, nothing," Karen said, her gaze drifting to the floor. "It was like talking to a statue. But I didn't give up. I talked to him, whispered really. I tried to get through to him, to tell him he's not a burden, that he's important to me, that he's safe here. Just kept saying how much he means to me and that he's not a burden. He started to come back to me, little by little. His breathing changed, his gaze focused on me. It was like he was hearing me for the first time in hours." Karen paused, collecting her thoughts. "He apologized," she said. "For scaring me. As if it was his fault." Hanna's expression grew pained. "I never meant for this to happen," she murmured. "What can I do to make it right?" Karen considered her words carefully. "For now, let him rest," she said. "But when he's feeling better, we need to have a talk. All of us. Plankton deserves an apology." * * ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ *

COMPUTER SENSORS ii * * ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * "Plankton?" Hanna's voice called. "You've been in there for a while." But there was no response from the bedroom. Karen's smile faded as she heard the silence. She knew her husband well enough to recognize when he'd reached his limit. She excused herself and went to check. Plankton was indeed on the bed, his eye squeezed shut. His body was rigid breathing shallow. Karen ached for him; she knew he was in the throes of sensory overload. Karen approached the bed gently, not wanting to startle him. She sat down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Plankton," she said softly. "You ok?" He didn't move, didn't speak. He just lay there, a tense coil of discomfort. Karen knew to recognize the signs of his overwhelm. The way he curled tightly around his body, the shallow breaths that spoke of his struggle to regain control. He was in his own world now, one where the bombardment of Hanna's sounds and touch had become too much. "Plankton," she said again, her voice a gentle whisper in the room. "You don't have to be out there if you don't want to." The touches, the sounds, Hanna— all too much. Karen's expression filled with understanding. "It's alright," she assured him, her hand gently rubbing his back. "You don't have to force it." Plankton nodded, his body slowly relaxing under her touch. He let out a sigh. Karen knew Plankton's not one for crowded spaces or unexpected physical contact. "Hey, guys, everything ok in here?" Hanna's voice was cheerful, but there was a hint of concern that had crept in. She searched the room, her gaze landing on Plankton's rigid form. Her smile faltered for a second, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. "Is he ok?" "He's... overwhelmed," Karen said. She knew Hanna didn't mean any harm, but she also knew her friend's boundless enthusiasm could be to much for Plankton to handle. Hanna's expression grew more puzzled. "What's there to be overwhelmed about?" Her curiosity piqued. "What's going on with you Plankton?" she asked, taking a step closer to the bed. Plankton jolted slightly, but he remained silent, eye still closed. "I don't get it.." Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Plankton's a bit... sensitive to stimulation," she began. "He needs his quiet time. Nothing against you, Hanna; just how he is." Hanna grew more concerned. "But I didn't mean to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to have a good time." Karen patted Plankton's shoulder, her screen never leaving his face. "It's not you, Hanna," she assured. "It's just that to much noise, touch, all just gets to be to much for him." "How?" "Some people need more space than others. It's not a reflection on you or your company." "But I don't get it," Hanna said, her voice quiet. "What did I do?" "You didn't do anything wrong," Karen assured her, her hand still resting on Plankton's shoulder. "It's just that Plankton's sensory input is overwhelmed easily." Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton, full of questions. "But I didn't do anything weird; did I?" "No," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "It's just that Plankton isn't much... physical affection from anyone but me. And even then, it's on his terms." Hanna's expression softened, starting to reach out to gently touch Plankton's arm. "Don't," Karen said, placing a hand over hers to stop her. Hanna's hand hovered in mid-air, and she looked at Karen with confusion. Karen took a deep breath. "Plankton needs his space to recharge. And when it comes to physical touch, it's something that's... it's not something he's comfortable with, from just anyone." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "But, you?" "We've found a balance that works for us. But it's something that took time to figure out. And even then, there are days when he needs more space than usual." Hanna nodded. "But he didn't say anything," she murmured. "I didn't know." "It's not something he talks about. He tries to be strong, to handle it, but sometimes it's just to much for him." "Why does he not flinch if you touch him, if it's sensory?" Hanna asked. Karen sighed. "It's complicated. I've known him for a long time, and we've built a level of trust. He's comfortable with my touch. But even then, it's a balancing act of knowing when he needs more and or when he needs less." Hanna nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she took a step back from the bed. "I had no idea," she murmured. "How long does it take for him to..." "It varies," Karen said. "Sometimes it's just minutes, other times can be hours." "Is he going to remember us talking right now?" Hanna asked. "It's hard to say," Karen replied, her gaze still on Plankton. "When he's like this, he's kind of... in his own world. Sometimes he's aware, sometimes he's not. It's like he's not present. The best thing is to just give him space," Karen said. "Let him come out of it on his own time. Sometimes talking to him helps, but not always." Hanna nodded. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to make him feel included." Karen gave her a small, understanding smile. "It's alright, Hanna," she said. "You couldn't have known. Just remember, Plankton needs space, and for us to respect that." Hanna nodds, her gaze still on Plankton. "So, how does he act coming out of it?" "It depends," Karen said, her hand still on Plankton's shoulder. "Sometimes he's a bit groggy, other times he's just... tired. And sometimes he's a bit snappy." "What will he remember?" "Probably not much," Karen said, her voice low. "When he's like this, the world kind of... washes over him. He might remember snippets, but it's all pretty fuzzy." Hanna nods. "How do I show him I care?" "Just being a friend—that means the world to him. But sometimes, the best way to show you care is to give him the space he needs." "But I don't want him to think I'm ignoring him." "You're not," Karen assured her, her voice gentle. "Just be mindful of his own boundaries. Sometimes a simple 'How are you feeling?' or even showing interests in his likes, can mean more than any hug. It's a condition where the brain can't process all the information coming in from the senses at once. It's like your brain's circuits are overloaded, and you just... shut down." Hanna nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she took this in. "Is it ok if I can ask Plankton questions about it?" "Of course," Karen said, her voice gentle. "But just be mindful. He might not be up for a lot of talking, especially right now." Hanna took a deep breath and approached, her movements slow and deliberate. "Plankton?" He didn't respond, his body still taut with tension. Hanna looked to Karen for guidance, who offered a smile. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. "Can you hear me?" There was no response, but Karen could feel the tension in his body ease slightly. She knew he was listening, even if he couldn't bring himself to respond. "Plankton's born with a condition called sensory sensitivity," Karen began, her voice calm and measured. "It means that his brain has trouble interpreting and responding to all sensory information from his environment. It can be anything from sounds to touch." "So, like, when we were watching the movie, and I was all over the place with my feelings, that was probably a bit much for him?" "Exactly," Karen said, her voice gentle. "Everything's just... too much for him sometimes." Hanna's eyes searched Plankton's face, looking for any sign of discomfort. "But he didn't say any thing," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "He tries not to," Karen said, her eyes never leaving her husband. "He doesn't like to make a fuss. But when it gets to be too much, he just kind of... shuts down." "But how do you know when it's too much?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "It's subtle," Karen said, her eyes still on Plankton. "He'll get tense, his breathing will change, bad mood, his eye might glaze over a bit. And when he gets really overwhelmed, he just... withdraws." "So, I shouldn't have grabbed his hand during the movie?" she asked, her voice filled with regret. "It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "You didn't know. Just remember for next time." Hanna nodded. "But what if I miss the signs?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "We're all learning. Just remember to be patient and pay attention. And if you're ever unsure, just ask." Hanna nodded, her hand now resting gently on the bed next to Plankton. "I'm sorry Plankton," she whispered. He didn't move, but Karen could see the tension in his body start to ease a bit more. She knew he heard Hanna, even if he couldn't respond. "Don't worry, Plankton," Hanna said, her voice gentle. "I'll be more careful next time. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Karen watched as Plankton's antennae slowly twitched, his breathing evening out as he began to come back to the world around him. It's a slow process, one Karen knew well. She gave Hanna a nod, a silent thank you for her understanding. "Why don't you go grab us board games, Hanna?" Karen suggested, voice low. "Give him a few to 'wake up'." Hanna nodded, her gaze lingering on Plankton before she turned and left the room. Karen watched the door close behind her before turning her attention back to Plankton. "It's ok, Plankton," she whispered, stroking his arm. "You're safe here."

🥼🩺☤🏆🥼

🩹🩹👩‍⚕️

🏥 doutor 🌡️🚨

💊👩🏻‍⚕️🏥

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

brain, dna,study 🧠🧬📚

"medical lab technician" "🥼💉🦠🩸🔬🧫"

🦠👩‍⚕🧬🩺💉🦠👩‍⚕🧬🩺💉

👁️‍🗨️5️⃣👁️(*^o^*)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁્᭄͜͡🧠

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

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SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 1/2 (By NEUROFABULOUS) The morning light peeked through the blinds, painting stripes on the bedroom floor. Karen stirred in her sleep, sitting up. Her husband, Plankton, slept peacefully beside her, his arms wrapped around a pillow. Karen looked over at him, his face calm and serene. The digital alarm clock read 7:00 AM. She carefully slid out of bed, trying not to disturb his slumber. "Karen," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. She paused, half in and half out of the bed. Did he wake? But Plankton's snores grew softly, his breathing even. She sighed with relief. Their son Chip, a lanky teenager, was already up. Karen could hear his footsteps thundering down the hallway, his energy palpable even through the closed bedroom door. He burst into the room, a tornado of teenage angst and excitement. "Mom! Dad!" he shouted. "It's the day!" Karen winced at his volume. Plankton stirred, his eye slitting open. "What is it?" he asked, his voice groggy. "The science fair!" Chip exclaimed, his screen flushed with excitement. Plankton's eye shot open and he sat up instantly, his mind racing. The patty heist. Today was the day he had been meticulously planning for weeks. He had overheard Mr. Krabs, his rival at the Krabby Patty, bragging about their restaurant's dominance over the competition. Plankton had to have it. "Chip, buddy," he said, his voice a mix of sleep and urgency. "I will try to make it, but can’t guarantee it. But Karen, I mean ‘Mom’ can.." Karen's eyes widened, but she nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Her husband’s obsession with Krabby Patties had taken over again. "I'll be there for you, buddy," she assured Chip, trying to mask her own disappointment. Plankton threw the covers off, swinging his tiny legs over the side of the bed. His eye was sharp with focus, his mind already racing with the complexities of his heist. "I'll make it quick," he told Karen, kissing her screen. Plankton tiptoed, his heart pounding. The office door was closed, but unlocked. He eased it open, his eye darting around the room, searching for any signs of movement. Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob were deep in conversation, their backs to the door. Plankton took a deep breath and slipped in, his tiny frame barely making a sound. "Halt!" Mr. Krabs spun around, his beady eyes locking onto Plankton. His face grew red with anger. "What do ye think yer doing here?" Plankton froze, his heart thumping in his chest. "I... I... was just looking for a... a... " He searched for a plausible lie, but his mind was a whirlwind of panic. Mr. Krabs' glower deepened. "Don't lie to me, ye tiny scoundrel! I know what yer after, and ye'll not get it!" Mr. Krabs lunged forward, brandishing a heavy spatula. Plankton squeaked in alarm, trying to dodge the blow. But his reflexes weren't quick enough. The metal spatula connected with his head with a sickening crack, sending him crashing to the floor. The room spun around Plankton as darkness closed in. The last thing he heard was SpongeBob's startled, "Mr. Krabs!" before the world went silent. Mr. Krabs looked down at Plankton's crumpled form, his expression a stormy mix of anger and triumph. He turned to his trusty fry cook. "SpongeBob," he barked. "Take this...this... tiny troublemaker out of me office.." Sponge Bob looked at Mr. Krabs, then at Plankton, his face a mask of confusion and concern. He gently scooped Plankton up with one spongy arm, his eyes filled with concern for the unconscious villain. The weight of the situation hit him, and his steps were heavy as he carried his friend out of the office. He could feel the tension in the room as Mr. Krabs watched them go, his glower never leaving Plankton's form. Sponge Bob's mind raced with questions and worry. He had known Plankton for a long time, despite their rivalry over the Krabby Patty formula. They had shared laughs and schemes in the past, but this... He couldn't believe his boss would stoop so low as to attempt to hurt Plankton. As he stepped into the hallway, Sponge Bob quickly scanned for any prying eyes. The corridor was empty, the usual bustle of the Krabby Patty silenced by the early morning hour. Carefully, he navigated through the kitchen, trying not to jostle him. "What have you done?" Sponge Bob whispered to the unconscious Plankton, his voice tight with concern. He couldn't help but feel a pang of anger at his friend's usual foolishness, but his primary thought was to get him to safety. He carefully maneuvered Plankton's limp body past the kitchen appliances. The sizzle of the frying oil and the faint scent of sea salt filled the air, but Sponge Bob's thoughts were elsewhere. With a heavy heart, he carried Plankton's limp form down the narrow alley between the Krabby Patty and the Chum Bucket. The morning was still cool, the sun not yet high enough to warm the concrete. The journey was quick, but it felt like an eternity to Sponge Bob. Each step was precise, each breath measured. He didn't want to cause his friend any more harm. He reached the Chum Bucket, the neon lights flickering weakly in the early morning. With a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, he slipped inside, the smell of stale chum and machinery assaulting his nostrils. "Karen!" he called out softly, his voice echoing in the small space. "Karen, it's Sponge Bob; I need your help!" Karen rushed to the front of the Chum Bucket, her eyes widening at the sight of her husband's lifeless body. "What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling. Sponge Bob gently laid Plankton down on their couch, his eyes filled with remorse. "He... he tried to steal the Krabby Patty formula again," he stammered. "Mr. Krabs... he hit him." Karen's screen paled as she took in the sight of her injured husband. She quickly moved to his side, feeling for a pulse. It was there, still present. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Sponge Bob watched, his eyes brimming with apology. "I didn't know what to do," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Krabs... he just lost it." Karen's eyes were cold and hard. "Thank you for bringing him home, Sponge Bob," she said, her words clipped. “It’s not your fault..” Her voice trailed off as she turned her attention to Plankton. She gently shook his shoulder. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispered. He didn't move. Her eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of consciousness. "Wake up," she said, a bit louder this time, her voice laced with desperation. The silence was deafening. The room felt like it was closing in on them, the air thick with the scent of concern and fear. Karen's voice grew desperate. "Plankton, wake up!" she shouted, patting his cheek gently. There was no response. Panic began to creep into her voice. "Come on, you can do it," she urged, shaking him slightly. "You've got to wake up." Plankton's body remained motionless, his single eye closed tight. Sponge Bob felt the panic swell inside him like a wave crashing against the shore. His heart raced as he watched Karen's desperate efforts to revive her husband. "Maybe we should call a doctor," he suggested, his voice quivering. Karen's eyes snapped to his, a mix of fear and determination. "No," she decided firmly. "We can't involve anyone else. Not yet." The two of them stood silently for a moment, the only sound the ticking of a clock hanging on the wall. They waited, every second seemingly stretching into an eternity. Each tick was a silent plea for Plankton to regain consciousness. Karen's hand hovered over her husband's forehead, feeling for any sign of life. Sponge Bob looked on, his usually cheerful expression now etched with worry. They waited, each second stretching into an eternity, as the morning sun began to creep into the Chum Bucket, casting a pale light over the disheveled scene. The only sounds were the soft whir of the refrigerator and the distant calls of seagulls. Then, a twitch from one of his antennas. It was so slight that Sponge Bob almost missed it. But Karen's gaze was trained on Plankton, and she noticed immediately. Her eyes lit up with hope. "Plankton?" she whispered, her hand moving to his cheek, her voice barely audible. There was another twitch, this time in his brow. Karen's heart leaped in her chest. "Sponge Bob, I think he's coming to." Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on Plankton's face. "Plankton," he whispered, his voice full of hope. "Can you hear us?" Plankton's eye cracked open, battling against the brightness of the morning. His vision was blurry, and the world spun around him. He moaned softly, his head throbbing with pain. "What happened?" he managed to croak, his voice hoarse and weak. Karen's eyes filled with relief. "You're awake!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "You got hurt at the Krabby Patty."

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

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

"You know I hate these early mornings," Plankton grumbled, his eye squinting against the glaring light. Karen, his ever-patient wife, offered a gentle smile, her hand resting firmly on his arm. "It's just a simple procedure," she assured him, as he’s getting his wisdom teeth removed as a preventative measure. The drive to the surgery center was quiet, except for the soft hum of the car's engine and the occasional swipe of the windshield wipers against the rain. Plankton's stomach churned with nerves, his thoughts racing to worst-case scenarios. Karen noticed his grip tightening on the armrest and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Once they arrived, the receptionist's bright smile did little to ease Plankton's anxiety. The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and mint, a sterile combination that always made him feel somewhat uneasy. They checked in, and Karen filled out the last of the forms while Plankton nervously tapped his foot, watching the clock's second hand move in slow, deliberate marches around the face. With a few moments to spare, Karen discreetly pulled out her phone and started typing a group text to her gal pals, Sandy and Pearl. "Plankton's about to get his wisdom teeth out! 😨🦷💊" she wrote. Her thumb hit send. Sandy's response was almost instant, "Good luck to him! 💪🤞 I'll be thinking of him!" Pearl's message popped up moments later, "Oh no, poor guy! Send us updates, please! 🥺💔" The nurse called Plankton's name, and Karen gave his hand a final squeeze as they followed the nurse to the operating rooml, her thumbs poised over the keyboard of her phone. "Going in now. 🙏💛" The room was cold and clinical, with shiny instruments gleaming in the harsh overhead lights. Plankton's breathing grew shallow as he settled into the chair, the paper crinkling under him like a warning. The anesthesiologist, Dr. Shell, was a kind-faced crab with a gentle demeanor that somehow made Plankton feel slightly less nervous. "This won't hurt a bit," Dr. Shell assured him, placing a mask over Plankton before the iv. "Just breathe deeply and count back from twenty for me." Plankton nodded, his heart racing like a squirrel's in a predator's gaze. He took a deep breath and began to count, his eyes never leaving Karen's. "Twenty...nineteen...eigh-" his voice trailed off as the warm embrace of anesthesia took hold, his eyelid growing heavier by the second. Karen waited until he was fully asleep before sending another text. "He's in! 🛃💤 I'll keep you both posted." She watched as the surgical team went to work, their movements swift and precise. Karen watched the surgery finish and sat with him. He’s still asleep, drooling a bit, but she couldn’t help but smile at his peaceful snores. The nurse nodded her way, indicating everything had gone according to plan. She took a picture of him sleeping to send the gal pals. "Success! 👨‍⚕️💤🦷" she texted, including the photo. "The teeth are out, and Plankton's snoring like a champ!" Sandy's response was swift, "Phew! 😅 That's a relief. How's the little guy holding up?" Karen chuckled softly, typing back, "Out cold, but his snores are music to my ears. 😂🎶" Sandy's response was a symphony of emojis, "🎉🥂 He's gonna be so groggy when he wakes up! Make sure to get some funny videos for our group chat! 📹😂" Karen couldn't help but laugh at the thought of capturing Plankton's post- op antics. She knew her friends would get a kick out of it. The nurse, sensing her amusement, leaned in and whispered, "You'll want to keep an eye on him when the anesthesia wears off. They can get pretty loopy." Karen nodded, her thumbs dancing over the phone's screen. "You bet I will. 😂🎥" she texted back to Sandy. The nurse returned with a small cup of water and a set of instructions. "Here you go. Make sure he sips this slowly once he's ready. And don't let him have any solid foods for a few hours. Just soups and smoothies." Karen nodded, still smiling at the thought of Plankton's impending drowsy adventure. Her phone buzzed again. It was Pearl this time, "Send us the updates! 👀💃" Karen looked down at Plankton, his mouth now swollen and his cheeks still numb as he slept. With a smirk, she sent a quick selfie of the two of them, his mouth open and her thumb up in the background. "Still hasn’t woken up, but I'm ready for the post-op show! 😂🤡" Sandy's reply was, "Oh, the joy of modern medicine. 😂💊👨‍⚕️" The nurse returned with a wheelchair to take Plankton to the recovery area. Karen helped his body sit up, and his head lolled against her shoulder. As they made their way down the hall, his eye still remained closed. Sandy responded to the selfie with a string of laughing emojis and a thumbs up. "You've got this! 😂👍" Pearl's message was a bit more dramatic, "Oh my gosh, he looks like he's been in a battle with a sea serpent and lost! 🐉💨🤕" Karen couldn't help but chuckle, despite her exhaustion from the early morning and the worry. Plankton began to stir as the wheelchair stopped. "We're here," Karen whispered, adjusting his pillow. The nurse helped him into a recliner, and Plankton's eye flickered open, a look of confusion spreading across his face. "Whewe...an...I?" he slurred. Karen held up the cup of water and the nurse nodded. She brought it to his lips, and he took a tentative sip, wincing as the coolness hit his numbed mouth. The sensation was oddly comforting. "Teef...?" Plankton managed to ask, his voice thick with sleep and the aftermath of the procedure. Karen giggled at his speech, snapping another photo of his swollen, goofy smile. She sent it to Sandy and Pearl, adding, "Ahoy there, pirate Plankton! 🏴‍☠️🦷" The responses came flooding in, a river of laughter and well wishes. "Looks like he found the hidden treasure of pain relief! 😂💊💎" Sandy texted. "Send our regards to the tooth fairy for us! 🧚‍♀️💃" Pearl added. Their messages brought a warmth to Karen's heart, reminding her that she wasn't alone in this moment, despite being miles apart from her friends. The nurse left them in the recovery area, the steady beep of monitors and the distant mumble of patients and staff filling the space. Plankton's eye grew heavier, and he drifted back to sleep, snoring gently. Karen, now in charge of documenting Plankton's recovery for their amusement, sent another update. "Pirate Plankton's snoring symphony is in full swing! 🐠💤🎶" This time, the replies from her friends were even faster, their emojis reflecting the comical sight of her husband. Pearl's response was a string of laughter and a band-aid emoji, "Tell him not to talk to the fishes about his treasure lost! 🐠🤐💨" Karen giggled at the thought and leaned in to whisper in Plankton, "You've got fans waiting for your tales of the deep, captain." His snores grew louder, a gentle sea breeze escaping his mouth like a lullaby for the fishes. Her phone vibrated again. Sandy had responded with a series of emojis: "🐠💨💃💃💃" followed by "Make sure he doesn't swipe his treasure map with those souvenir teeth! 🛃💃🐠" Karen couldn't resist playing along, sending a photo of Plankton's teeth, now in a tiny plastic treasure chest, along with the text, "Arrr, he's lost his pearls, but the sea's still got plenty more! 💎🐠🏹" Sandy replied with a row of clapping fish, "What a hero's journey he's had! 🐠👏" and Pearl chimed in with, "Those teeth are now part of the ocean's legend! 🐠💃💃" Karen's phone buzzed again, and she saw that Sandy had sent a meme featuring a lobster with wisdom teeth, holding a tiny pirate flag. "This is too much," she thought, laughing quietly so as not to wake Plankton. She showed him the meme once he began to stir again. His swollen smile grew wider, and he managed a chuckle, his speech still slurred. "Arrr, I'm the king of the sea now, aren't I?" Sandy texted back, "Definitely the king of the dental seas! 🐠👑💃" Pearl sent a GIF of a fish doing a celebratory dance. "Your teeth are now part of the ocean's treasure! 💃💃💃" The playful banter between the friends continued, with each text bringing a little more life to Plankton's droopy eye.

https://www.midol.com/about-my-period

ᴰᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᴬᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Part 2 ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵒʳᵃˡ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵃᶜʰᵉˢ⸴ ⁿᵒ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ?" ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴹʸ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ⸴ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴰᵒᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ? ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵉᵗʳⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ‧ 'ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵉⁿˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵖˢ ʳᵉᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵖˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵒʳ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ? ᴼʳ ᵇᵒᵗʰ? ᴺᵒ?" "ᴵ ʰ⁻⁻⁻ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱⁿᶜᵉᵈ⸴ ʷᵒʳˢᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶠᵉʳʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴴᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ‧" 'ᴴᵘᵍᵍˡʸ?' "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵈ ʰᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵒᵉᵘᵛʳᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳᵐ ʰᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵘᵐᵇ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴸᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˢᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ 'ᴺᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵐᵉˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻᵉʳ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ⁿᵒʳ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ⁱᶠ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ end finale

⚖️👩🏻‍⚖️🗼

lidocaine ointment that can apply beforehand?

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 13 (Autistic author) ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇꜱ Plankton quivers. "Stop," he whispers, his voice a plea. "Please." Mr. Krabs' grin widens, eyes glinting with cruel delight. "Afraid I'll do to you what you deserve?" Before Plankton can respond, Mr. Krabs punches at him with his claw. Plankton squeaks in pain, his eye widens with terror, his voice a distressed static. "No, Mr. Krabs, please stop!" Mr. Krabs' chuckles turn into full-blown laughter. "Look at him squirm," he says, his voice a rumble. He doesn't heed the tears streaming down Plankton's face. Plankton's body wrenches in pain, his antennae sticking straight out in alarm. "Why?" he whispers, his voice a broken static. Mr. Krabs' laughter echoes. "Because you're weak," he sneers, his voice a harsh grate. "Always have been, always will be." Plankton's body shrinks, his antennae drooping. "No," he whimpers, his voice a static plea. Mr. Krabs' laughter fills the room, his claws still poised for another strike. "Look at the tiny thief," he says, his voice a cruel cackle, "so scared of a little pain." Without warning, his claw swings down, connecting with Plankton's thin leg, and Plankton's scream pierces the air, his voice a shattered static. Pain shoots through his body like lightning, his leg feeling like it's on fire. He tries to pull away. "Mr. Krabs," he gasps, his voice a desperate whine. Mr. Krabs' laughter continues, unabated by Plankton's cries. "See? You're just a tiny, weak little creature," he says, his voice a malicious cackle. Plankton's screams fill the room, the pain in his leg unbearable. "No," he whispers, his voice a static moan. "No more." Mr. Krabs' laughter doesn't waver, his claws still poised for another strike. "Oh, poor Plankton," he sneers, his voice a harsh static. Plankton's body writhes in pain, his leg twisted at an impossible angle as Sandy and Karen return. Sandy's eyes widen in horror, her voice a shocked rumble. "Mr. Krabs, what are you doing?" she asks, as Karen rushed to Plankton. Mr. Krabs' grin doesn't falter. "Teaching a lesson," he says, his voice a cruel crackle as he finally leaves. Sandy's face is a picture of horror, her voice a trembling trill. "What did he do to you?" she asks, her eyes on Plankton's twisted leg. Karen's screens flicker with rage, her beeps sharp. "That monster!" she says, her voice filled with fury. She quickly assesses the damage. Plankton's leg is twisted grotesquely, his tiny body trembling with pain. Sandy's hands hover over his body, unsure how to help without causing more distress. Sandy nods, her face pale with shock. "I'll get SpongeBob," she says, her voice a trembling trill. She runs to the phone, dialing with trembling fingers. "Sponge Bob, please come quick," she says, her voice a desperate hum. While Sandy is on the phone, Karen's screens flicker with medical information. She quickly assembles a makeshift splint for Plankton's leg, her beeps a frantic symphony of care as SpongeBob arrives. His eyes are wide with concern, his voice a panicked squeak. "What happened, Plankton?" he asks, his eyes damp with unshed tears. But Plankton's eye had rolled up in his head. Sandy's voice is shaky as she tells Sponge Bob the story, her eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling body. "Mr. Krabs... he was so cruel," she says, her voice a soft whisper of disbelief. Sponge Bob's face twists with anger. "Why would he do this?" he asks, his voice a strained whine. "First causing brain damage, and now..." Karen's screens glow with determination. "We'll deal with Mr. Krabs later," she beeps. "First, we need to get Plankton help." Sponge Bob nods, his eyes wide with fear. "What can we do?" he asks, his voice a choked whisper. Karen's screens flicker with information. "His leg is broken, and his sensory overload could be severe." Sponge Bob's face falls, his voice a sad squeak. "Oh no, Plankton." He gently picks up his friend, his touch as soft as a feather. Sandy watches, her eyes wide with fear. "What now?" she asks, her voice a trembling trill. "We can't just take him like this to a regular hospital. We'll have to be careful not to overwhelm his senses, and find medical help equipped for neurodivergent people like Plankton." SpongeBob speaks up. "I was born with a mild form of idiopathic Autism. Different from Plankton's I know, but my parents have taken me to a sensory-friendly clinic. They are skilled and have lots of different methods of medicine! It's called the Quiet Bubble Clinic!" Sandy nods, her eyes filling with hope. "That sounds perfect," she says, her voice a gentle hum. "Let's take him there." Karen's screens pulse with agreement. "Good thinking, Sponge Bob," she beeps. "We'll have to be careful, though. Any loud noises or sudden movements could trigger another meltdown." Sponge Bob nods, his grip on Plankton steady. "Sandy can drive," he says, his voice determined. "We'll get you to the Quiet Bubble Clinic, buddy."

Karen had always loved her husband Plankton. His mind was a bastion of order in a world that often seemed too noisy and chaotic for him. Plankton had a way of seeing patterns and connections that she never could. He'd spend hours meticulously categorizing his collections. It was his way of making sense of the world, a comforting rhythm she learned to appreciate. But today was one of those days where Plankton's brain seemed to betray him. It was a silent, unassuming morning until Plankton froze. His eye glazes over, and his body stiffened like a plank. Karen's heart skipped a beat, knowing all too well what was happening. Her mind raced as she quickly took action. She guided him to the safe spot they'd designated for these moments, a corner padded with cushions and devoid of sharp edges. His body began to convulse, a symphony of uncontrolled movements that didn't match the calmness of the surroundings. She felt her own heart race, her palms sweating, but she knew she had to be his rock, his anchor. Suddenly his friend Sponge Bob came in; he's never seen nor heard of Plankton like this before. "What's happening to him?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice quivering with concern. Karen took a deep breath. "He has autistic seizures," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's like his brain gets overwhelmed with stimuli, and it just... short-circuits." SpongeBob's eyes widened beyond belief, taking in the scene before him. Plankton's tiny frame jerked and tremored. It was a stark contrast to the precise, orderly Plankton he knew. "Is he okay?" Sponge Bob stammered, his hands waving in the air, unsure what to do. "Just stay calm," Karen instructed, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "These usually pass quickly. I need to make sure he doesn't hurt himself." She moved swiftly, carefully placing pillows under his head. Sponge Bob nodded, his concern growing as he watched his friend suffer. He wished he could do something, anything to help. "Can I talk to him?" he asked tentatively, his thumbs tucked into his pants, fidgeting. "It's better to let him be," Karen advised gently. "He can't process much during this. But once it's over, you can." When Plankton's convulsions finally ceased, his body limp, and his eye flutters closed. Karen checked his pulse, sighing in relief when she found it steady and strong. She looked up at Sponge Bob, her expression a mix of worry and fatigue. "Just be there for him when he wakes up," Karen said. "He'll be disoriented. He might not understand what happened." Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for Plankton, trapped in his own mind during these episodes. As Karen tended to Plankton, Sponge Bob felt a surge of curiosity. With a newfound determination, Sponge Bob turned to Karen, his eyes brimming with hope. "Could he maybe like... can he understand me now?" Karen looked at Plankton, still twitching, but clearly drained. She nodded slowly. "He can hear you. Just keep it simple and soothing." Sponge Bob approached cautiously, his eyes fixed on his friend. He knelt down and took Plankton's hand in his spongy grip. "Plankton," he whispered, "It's me, Sponge Bob. You're safe now." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, a hint of recognition flickering across his face. Karen offered Sponge Bob a small, grateful smile. She knew how much Plankton valued his friendship. Sponge Bob cleared his throat, his words gentle and measured. "Remember when we played catch with jellyfish?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're the best at catching them, Plankton. Your reflexes are so fast, it's like you're a jellyfish ninja." Karen smiles. Plankton's eye is open, but unfocused, as if looking through Sponge Bob instead of at him. His pupil is dilated, and his gaze is distant. Sponge Bob's heart swells with a mix of hope and concern. "Plankton?" he calls again, a little louder this time. No response, just the slightest twitch. He's there, but not really. Karen watches closely, a silent guardian making sure her husband doesn't slip back into the chaos that had consumed him. The room feels eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual symphony of sounds that filled their lives. Karen's eyes are filled with love and fear, a potent mix that's all too familiar. She's seen this before, Plankton's mind retreating into itself when the world becomes too much. Sponge Bob squeezes Plankton's hand, trying to ground him in reality, but his friend's hand is cold and limp. "You know, Plankton," he starts again, his voice quivering slightly, "you're like a tiny superhero with a giant brain. Nothing gets past you." Then, as if a switch was flipped, Plankton's body starts to jerk again, but this time, the movements aren't the violent convulsions of a seizure. They're smaller, faster - tics. His head tilts quickly. Karen's eyes narrow slightly as she recognizes the signs. This was a common aftermath of his seizures, his brain's way of recalibrating itself. "It's okay," she soothes, her voice a gentle melody that pierced through the tension. "Just ride it out." Karen's eyes never leave his, her gaze a silent promise of protection and patience. She knew these tics were a part of his autism, a way for his body to cope with the overwhelming input. It was as if the world was too loud for him, and his body had found its own rhythm to try to drown out the noise. The tics grew more frequent, his head jerking in quick, spasmodic movements. Sponge Bob's grip tightens on his hand, his own heart racing. He didn't understand what was happening, but he knew his friend needed him now more than ever. Karen's voice remained soothing, a constant in the storm of Plankton's neurological maelstrom. "It's okay," she said softly. "Let it happen." Sponge Bob watched, his eyes wide with concern. He'd never seen his friend like this before. The tics grew in intensity, Plankton's head snapping to a nod, his limbs twitching erratically. It was like watching a tiny, trapped bird, desperately trying to find its way out of a cage made of its own nervous system. "It's okay," Karen repeated, her voice a beacon of calm in the chaos. "These are just his tics. They're part of his autism. It's his brain's way of adjusting after a seizure." Sponge Bob nodded, trying to absorb the information. He'd known Plankton for years but had never known or seen him like this. Then Plankton's eye focused on Sponge Bob. A flicker of recognition sparked in the depths. "Sp...Sponge Bob?" he stuttered, his voice weak and tremulous. Sponge Bob's smile grew wider, relieved to hear his friend's voice. "Hey, buddy," he said. Plankton's head continued to twitch in a nodding motion, his eye blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on Sponge Bob's face. The tics were less intense now, but they were still present, a subtle reminder of the storm that had raged within him moments ago. Karen knew that this was the part where he'd start to come back to them. Karen explained, "The tics can last for a bit, but he'll be back to normal soon." Sponge Bob nodded, his grip on Plankton's hand steadying as he watched his friend's eye refocus. He didn't understand it, but he knew Plankton needed time. As the tics began to subside, Plankton's hand squeezed Sponge Bob's in weak acknowledgment. Sponge Bob felt a wave of relief crash over him. "I'm here," he murmured, his voice quiet and reassuring. Plankton's breathing grew more even, his body finally relaxing. The twitches gradually slowed until they were barely noticeable. It was like watching a tightly wound clockwork toy slowly unwinding. Karen reached over to stroke Plankton's arm, her touch feather-light. "You're going to be okay," she said. (my search NeuroFabulous)

ᴰᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᴬᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Part 1 ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢʰᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵘᵇˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧" ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ! ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ?" ᴴᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᴳᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ‧" ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶜ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ᶠˡᵒˢˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵃʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ?" 'ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ?' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ˢᶜᵃⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ʷᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧" 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ‽' "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈ⁻ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜˡⁱⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ?" "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴵ'ᵐ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰʸᵍⁱᵉⁿⁱˢᵗ! ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ʷᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵒˡᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵃˡ‧ ᵂᵉ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵒᵘᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ʰʸᵍⁱᵉⁿⁱˢᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵈᵒ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵉʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵘᵐˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵈᵘʳᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵃˢⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵃˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧" "ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ?" ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵃˢᵏˢ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ'ˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ?" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵃᵈᵐⁱⁿⁱˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴼᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ʰʸᵍⁱᵉⁿⁱˢᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʲᵒᵇ‧" 'ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁱᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ʸᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗˡʸ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ/ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰʸᵍⁱᵉⁿⁱˢᵗ ʷⁱᵖᵉˢ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢʷᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ‧" "ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢʸˢᵗᵉᵐ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵘˢᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉᵈ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢˡᵒᵖᵖʸ‧ 'ᵂᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧' 'ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ?' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʳʳᶻ ᵇʳʳʳᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᵇᵇˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᴹʳⁿⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" 'ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠⁱᶜᵘˡᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃᵗᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡˢ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʲᵒᵇ!" ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵃᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" "ᴵ ᵐⁱˢˢ ᴷ⁻ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ⸴ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧" "ᴹʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᴷᵃʳⁱ ᴵ ˡᵒ⁻ᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ!" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ!" ᵀᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉ⁻⁻⁻⁻ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‽" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧" "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ?" "ᵂᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵖᵉˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵖˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢᵒ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃᵛⁱˡʸ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘⁿᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ‧ 'ᔆᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵗⁱʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ⸴ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ "ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ‧‧" "ᴷ⁻ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ?" 'ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ?' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉʷ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᶻʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ/ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ ʷⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʷ!" "ᶜʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵃʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ᵗᵉᵉᵈ ᶜʳᵉᵃⁿˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ‧" "ᴹʸ ⁿᵉⁿᵈⁱˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉⁿᵗⁱˢ‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵘˢʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ? ᵀʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴱᵃˢʸ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ 'ᴶᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧ to be cont. pt. two

https://www.femininesexualalchemy.com/blog/smear-test

How to Sleep Comfortably With a Full Stomach: Tips and Tricks HelpSleepProblems Blog – after enjoying a delicious meal or indulging in a late-night snack, you climb into bed feeling uncomfortably full and wondering how on earth you’re going to get any sleep. While it may seem like an impossible task, there are actually several strategies that can help you fall asleep even when your stomach is stuffed. Eat earlier One of the most effective ways to avoid going to bed with a full stomach is simply to eat your last meal earlier in the evening. Try eating dinner at least three hours before bedtime so that your body has ample time to digest your food before you lay down for the night. Avoid heavy meals late at night In addition to eating dinner early, try to make sure that your last meal of the day isn’t particularly heavy or high in fat. Foods like pizza, burgers, and fried foods take longer for your body to break down and can lead to discomfort if eaten too close to bedtime. Opt for lighter snacks If you do find yourself wanting a snack later in the evening, choose something light that won’t weigh heavily on your stomach. Good options include fruit, yogurt or milk-based smoothies, crackers with hummus or nut butter spread thinly on top. Stay upright after eating Another tip for avoiding indigestion and difficulty sleeping when you have a full stomach is simply staying upright after eating. Lying down immediately after a meal can allow acid from our stomachs back up into our esophagus leading us towards heartburns and other digestive problems which would further disturb our sleep cycle. https://helpsleepproblems.com/how-to-sleep-on-full-stomach/ Avoid physical activities right away Avoiding physical activities right away will allow more time for digestion because exercise speeds up metabolism which could result in indigestion over time. Practice relaxation techniques If you find that your stomach is still feeling full and uncomfortable even after taking these steps, try practicing some relaxation techniques to help calm both your mind and body. Deep breathing exercises, gentle stretching or yoga, meditating can all help in relaxing our muscles. Create a comfortable sleep environment Finally, even if you’re feeling stuffed and uncomfortable from overeating before bed creating a comfortable sleep environment may make it easier for you to fall asleep. This includes making sure your room is cool and dark with no distractions while sleeping and having comfortable bedding makes falling asleep much easier. Conclusion While going to bed with a full stomach can be uncomfortable at first throughout our life journey but there are several strategies we can use for effective digestion. Eating earlier in the evening, choosing lighter snacks later in the day staying upright post-meals along with avoiding physical tasks right away really helps us feel relaxed while helping us maintain good health overall.

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https://www.cancer.gov/news-events/cancer-currents-blog/2020/cervical-cancer-screening-hpv-test-guideline#:~:text=ACS%20recommends%20cervical%20cancer%20screening,Pap%20test%20every%203%20years.

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

CONSOLE TONSIL iii Plankton's eye fluttered open just enough to see Karen beside him. He felt groggy and disoriented, the events of the day a distant, hazy memory. He then notices Hanna brimming with tears. He blinked slowly, trying to clear the fog. "Karen," he croaked, his voice hoarse from surgery and emotional turmoil. "Hanna?" "I'm so sorry," Hanna choked out with regret. "I didn't mean to...I didn't know." "What happened?" he rasped. Karen's gaze softens. "You had a bit of a shutdown, Plankton," she said gently. "You've had a long day, and everything just became too much." The word 'burden' echoed in Plankton's mind. "Burden?" he managed to croak. "Hanna said something she didn't mean," she began,. "She didn't understand what she was saying, but she hurt you, and she's sorry." The word 'burden' it seemed, that fear had been given a voice. He looked from Karen to Hanna. "Burden," he said, barely a whisper. "Is that what you think of me?" Hanna looked stricken. "No, Plankton, I just..." Her voice trailed off. He had always known that he was different, that his size and his quirks set him apart from others. "It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "We all have moments where we say things without thinking. But what's important is that you know you're not a burden to me, Plankton. You never have been, and never will be." Plankton's word 'burden' ringing. "Hanna didn't mean it, she just didn't understand." But the word had already taken root in Plankton's mind. Burden. The word resonated through Plankton but to be called a burden was something else entirely. "Plankton, I'm sorry," she said again, "I didn't know." But Plankton could only repeat the word. "Burden," he croaked. Karen reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "No, Plankton, you're not a burden," she said, her voice steady and firm. "You're loved and valued, just the way you are." "Burden," he murmured agai. "I'm a burden." "Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle reprimand. "You are not a burden." But Plankton's eye remained fixed, voice a hollow echo. "Everything I do is a burden," he murmured. Karen squeezed his shoulder. "Plankton, please, don't say that." "Burden," Plankton whispered, voice barely a breath. Karen's heart broke at the sound of his self-loathing. "Plankton, you're not a burden," she insisted, her voice filled with compassion. "Am a burden," he repeated, the word sticking to his tongue like a sour candy. "What can I do?" Hanna asked, desperation seeping. "Listen," Karen said, turning to face her. "You need to understand that Plankton isn't just being dramatic. This isn't something you can just apologize for and expect him to get over. His brain works differently. He processes stress in a way that's unique to him. And when you said that..." Her voice trailed off, unable to find the right words to express the gravity of the situation. "I'm a burden," Plankton murmured. "You're not a burden, Plankton," she said, her voice a soft, steady rhythm. "You're my friend, and I care about you." "Burden," Plankton said, his voice a quiet rebuttal. He was stuck in a loop of pain and she wasn't sure how to pull him out. "Plankton, you're not," she began, but he cut her off. "Burden," Plankton murmured, his voice a sad refrain. "Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle plea. "You're not a burden." "Burden," Plankton replied, his voice a soft echo of despair, "is a burden." Karen tries to find the right words to cut through the fog of his pain. "Plankton," she said firmly, "you are not a burden. You're my husband, and my confidant." "But a burden," Plankton whispered, voice trembling. "I am burden." "Plankton, please," she said. "You're not a burden." "Burden," Plankton said, his voice a stubborn echo. "Everything I do is a burden." "No, Plankton," Karen insisted, her tone firm but filled with care. "You're not a burden. You're an essential part of this home." But the word 'burden' a heavy weight on his soul. "I'm not a burden," he murmured, the words barely a breath. "I'm not." "Right, you are not," Karen said. "You're so much more.." "Burden," his voice a quiet protest. "I'm just a burden." "You're not a burden," she said. "You're a companion, and a vital part of our lives." "But, burden," Plankton whimpered, his voice a sad refrain. "I is burden." Karen took his hand. "You are not," she said, her voice a gentle but firm declaration. "You're a unique and wonderful being, Plankton." "Plankton, burden," Plankton repeated, his voice a whisper of doubt. "I, burden." "Plankton," she said. "You are not a burden. You're a brilliant mind, and family." Plankton's word 'burden' still clinging to the edges of his consciousness. "But, Karen," he whispered, "I am burden." "No," Karen said firmly, voice unyielding. "You are not. You are treasure, a light in this world." Plankton blinked slowly, the word 'burden' echoing in his mind like a mournful chant. "But I burden," he protested, his voice barely above a whisper. "Burdens, Plankton." "You are loved." "Karen," Plankton said, his voice shaking with emotion, "I burden." Karen leaned closer. "Plankton," she said softly, "you're not a burden. You're someone who brings joy and laughter into our lives." Plankton's gaze searched hers, the word 'burden' still clinging to his every thought. "But I burden," he murmured, his voice a sad echo. "You're a part of this home, a piece of our lives." But Plankton's mind was a tumultuous sea, the word 'burden' a stormy island he couldn't escape. "Burden," he said again, his voice a sad admission. Karen's looking for a way to bridge the gap between his pain and the truth. "Plankton," she said, her voice a gentle reminder, "you're not a burden." "Burden," Plankton whispered, the word a sad acceptance in his mind. "I burden." "Plankton," she began, but he talked over her. "Burden," Plankton said, his voice a sad refrain. "Everything I do, burden." "Plankton," she said, her voice a gentle but firm counterpoint. "Burden," Plankton murmured, his voice a quiet echo of despair. "Everything I do, a burden." Karen felt the urgency to reach him, to pull him out of the dark pit of his thoughts. "Plankton, you're not a burden." Plankton's eye remained unfocused, his voice a sad refrain. "Burden," he whispered, the word a painful acceptance. "Everything I do, I burden." "You're not a burden." "But, Karen," Plankton murmured, his voice a sad refrain, "everything I do is burden." Karen's looking for any sign of the vibrant spirit she knew was there. But Plankton's gaze remained vacant, the word 'burden' echoing in his mind like a funeral bell. Karen knew she had to do something, had to find a way to break through the barrier that had been so carelessly built. She took a deep breath, reaching for the one thing she knew could always lift his spirits. "Remember the time we built that sandcastle?" she asked, her voice filled with the warmth of nostalgia. "The one with the moat that kept filling up with jellyfish?" Plankton's eye flickered with the ghost of a smile. "Jellyfish," a soft echo of a happier time. "Yes," Karen said, her voice a gentle nudge. "Remember how we laughed when they kept popping the bubbles in the moat?" A flicker of life returned to Plankton's eye. "Burden, Bubbles," he murmured. Karen clung to the glimmer of hope. "And the karaoke nights? When you sang that sea shanty about the Krabby Patty?" "Krabby Patty," the words a soft echo of happier times. Karen's seeing the first crack in the wall of pain he had built around himself. She took his hand, voice filled with warmth. "Remember pranks we’d play on SpongeBob?" Plankton's gaze flickered with a glimmer of amusement. "Jellyfish," he murmured. Encouraged, Karen pressed on. "And the time we accidentally turned the restaurant into a bubble bath?" "Bubble bath," he murmured, his voice a soft echo of the laughter they had shared. "Yes," Karen said, her voice a gentle caress. "Remember how Mr. Krabs had to wear those ridiculous floaties because he couldn't swim in the bubbles?" Plankton's smile grew. "Floaties," he murmured, a hint of laughter in his voice. Karen squeezed his hand. "See, Plankton. You're not a burden. You're a partner in crime, and the best roommate I could ask for." The room remained still, the only sound the steady beat of Plankton's heart. Then, ever so slowly, his smile grew, pushing back the shadows in his mind. "Karen," he murmured, his voice a soft echo of gratitude. "Thank you." Hanna's pixel eyes widened with hope, the guilt still etched on her face. "Plankton," she said, her voice tentative. "I'm so sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. You're not a burden. You're...you're like family to us." Plankton's gaze shifted to her, the weight of her words a gentle nudge towards healing. "Family," he murmured, the word a tentative bridge over the chasm of his doubt. "Yes," Hanna said, her voice earnest. "I'm sorry for not understanding before. But I do now. And I'll do better." "You will?" he asked, a tentative thread of hope. "Yes," Hanna said with earnestness. "I'll learn, listen, and I'll be more considerate of how my words can affect." Karen nodded in approval, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening slightly. "That's all we can ask," she said, her tone a gentle reprimand. "For you to understand and do better." Hanna's pixel eyes well up with tears. "I'm so sorry, Plankton," she said, voice shaking. "I had no idea." Plankton's gaze softened, the word 'burden' slowly losing grip. Karen released a sigh of relief, tension in the room easing. "What's important," she said, her voice a gentle guide, "is that we all understand each other better now." Hanna nodded with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it right," she said, a solemn vow. Plankton looked from Karen to Hanna, the word 'burden' losing power. "Ok," he murmured. "I forgive."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 12 (Autistic author) 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 Sandy's eyes follow his finger as it traces through the grid. "Ah, here it is," she says, her voice a calm hum. "I'm gonna go find Karen, I'll be back!" But then Mr. Krabs, who hasn't had Plankton try to steal the formula since the fry pan incident, comes in to check and see what he's up to. "What are ye doing?" Mr. Krabs snaps, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why isn't this little troublemaker trying to steal me formula?" Plankton's antennae wilt at the sound of Mr. Krabs' gruff voice, his sensory haven shattered by the intrusion. Mr. Krabs storms into the room, his claws waving in the air. "What's this nonsense?" he barks, his voice a thunderclap to Plankton. "A book; more like some blueprints!" Mr. Krabs sneers, his claws snatching the word search from Plankton's trembling hands. Plankton's eye widens with horror as Mr. Krabs crinkles the pages, ripping up the book. Mr. Krabs rips the pages with a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with malice. "This is what happens when ye too cozy with the enemy," he says, his voice a harsh crackle as he tips the bookshelf onto the floor with a bang. Plankton's antennae snap back, his body tense with fear. The painful memory of the frying pan flashes through his mind, his voice a terrified static. "No!" he squeaks. Mr. Krabs looms over him, his eyes a cold, hard gleam. "What's wrong with ye?" he barks, his voice a rough scratch of sarcasm. "Ye gonna cry?" Plankton's eye fills with tears. "No," he whimpers. Mr. Krabs laughs, his cackle echoing through the room. "Look at the tiny thief, so scared of a little noise!" he sneers, his voice a grating static. Plankton's body shrinks, his antennae drooping. "Krabs," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. Mr. Krabs' laughter fills the room, his claws still gripping the torn pages. "Look at the wittle thief," he mocks, his voice a cruel cackle. Plankton's single eye darts around the room, seeking escape from the crushing wave of stimulation. The pressure of Mr. Krabs' stare is like a boulder on his chest. "What's the matter, Plankton?" Mr. Krabs sneers, leaning down so his face is inches from Plankton's. "Afraid I'll catch you red- handed?" Plankton's antennae flatten against his head, his breath quick and shallow. "No," he whispers, his voice a static hiss of fear. Mr. Krabs' looming presence is like a shadow over him, his voice a grating buzz. "What's the matter, Plankton?" he sneers. "Can't handle a little competition?" Plankton flinches, his antennae retracting. The pressure of the crab's eyes bore into his soul, his voice a panicked static. "No, Mr. Krabs, please," he whispers. Mr. Krabs' claw slams down onto the coffee table, the impact rattling everything on it. "I see," he says, his voice a cruel chuckle. "Ye've gone soft."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 15 (Autistic author) ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ Sandy and Sponge Bob leave the room while Karen stays for the surgery. The doctor's tentacles move with practiced ease. The room hummed with a gentle consistency of medical equipment, designed to avoid jarring sounds. The doctor's eyes were focused, his voice a steady rhythm of instructions for the nurse. She put the IV in, a swift and precise motion, and Plankton's snores remained undisturbed. The surgery begins, each movement calculated to minimize pain. The doctor's tentacles dance around the broken limb, his touch as light as a feather. The smell of antiseptic hangs in the air, but it's faint, not overwhelming. Plankton's body lies still, his snores the only sound besides the low whisper of instruments coating the bone. The nurse's eyes flick to the clock on the wall, the seconds ticking by like a metronome to the rhythm of the doctor's work. The room is a symphony of soft sounds: the steady beep of the heart monitor, the low mumble of the doctor's instructions. Plankton's tiny body lies motionless, his snores the only evidence of life. They put his leg in a cast and unhook the IV. Sponge Bob and Sandy wait outside, their minds racing with worries and hope. Their conversation is whispers, not wanting to disturb the peaceful hum of the Quiet Bubble Clinic. The nurse beckons them back in. "The surgery was a success," she says, her voice a gentle gust of relief. Plankton lies in the bed, his leg now encased in a cast. His snores are quieter, his body less tense. Sponge Bob and Sandy hover by his side, their eyes locked on his peaceful face. "But we need to be prepared for his waking," the nurse continues, her voice a soft warning. "He might wake up feeling disoriented or overwhelmed. Also, it takes time for the anesthesia to fully wear off, so he might be groggy and silly, sleepy or even a bit forgetful." They nod, their expressions a mix of gratitude and anticipation. The doctor enters the room, his tentacles wiped clean of any sign of surgery. "He'll need to stay here for a bit, to recover," he says, his voice a gentle rumble. "But you can stay with him. After he's fully awake, you can take him home! Just be careful, of course." Sponge Bob's eyes light up, his grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "We'll make sure he's okay," he says, his voice a promise. Sandy nods, her face a mask of determined calm. "Thank you," Karen says, her voice a gentle hum of appreciation. The doctor nods, his tentacles flicking a dismissive wave. "It's what we're here for," he says, his voice a warm rumble. "Now, let's get him settled." They work together, Sponge Bob and Sandy supporting Plankton as they move his bed to a recovery room, his body still asleep as Karen holds his hand. The room is painted with soft, soothing colors, and the bed is surrounded by pillows and blankets that seem to swallow his small frame. The lights are dimmed, a stark contrast to the stark whites and harsh florescents of a normal hospital. Sponge Bob sits on the chair beside his bed, his eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping face. The gentle whirl of a fan in the corner provides white noise, a comforting constant hum that fills the silence. Sandy sits on the other side, her hand resting lightly on the foot of the bed. Her eyes are glued to a book titled "Understanding Neurodivergence in Friends," her expression focused. Karen meanwhile was holding his other hand. Plankton's antennae twitches as the gentle hum of the recovery room starts to pierce his slumber. His single eye opens to a sliver, taking in the soft, blurry world around him. He blinks, trying to focus, and sees Karen first. "Hey, buddy," she says, her voice a warm buzz of comfort. "You're okay." Plankton's eye widens, his brain foggy from the anesthesia. "Wheh..." he starts, his voice a static whisper. Sponge Bob's hand squeezes his gently. "You're at the Quiet Bubble Clinic," he says, his voice a soft wave of reassurance. "You had your leg fixed." Plankton's antennae wave slowly, his eye blinking as realization sets in. "Mr. Krabs," he whispers, his voice a static memory of pain. Sponge Bob's thumb pauses in its comforting rhythm. "Don't worry about him now," he says, his voice a gentle lapping of waves. "You're safe here." Plankton's antennae twitch with confusion, his mind a foggy storm of memories. He tries to sit up, but the nurse's firm hand gently pushes him back down. "Easy," she whispers, her voice a soft breeze. "You need to rest." Sponge Bob's face is a picture of relief as Plankton's eye focusses on him. "Remember, buddy?" he asks, his voice a gentle reminder. "You're safe." Plankton's antennae quiver with the echoes of pain, but the soothing presence of his friends begins to anchor him. He nods slightly, his voice a static rustle. "Sandy?" he asks, his gaze shifting to her. Sandy looks up from her book, her eyes soft. "I'm here," she says, her voice a gentle hum. She sets the book aside and takes his hand. Plankton's antennae twitch with confusion, his eye darting around the room. The softness of the pillows and the gentle hum of the fan are alien to him. "Where...?" he whispers, his voice a static question. The nurse's smile is a beacon of calm. "You're at the Quiet Bubble Clinic," she says, her voice a comforting trill. "You're safe." Plankton's mind is a swirl of fuzzy images and half-remembered fears. He tries to piece together what happened, his antennae flailing for answers. The nurse's voice is a gentle guide, leading him through the mist. "You had surgery," she murmurs, her eyes kind. "Your leg is fixed now. Just rest." Plankton's eye blinks slowly, trying to comprehend the words. The pain is gone, replaced by a dull throb and the weight of the cast. He nods, his body still feeling the aftermath of the anesthesia's embrace. The room is a soft blur, the edges of his vision dancing with colors. He tries to lift his head, but it feels too heavy. Sponge Bob's grip is steady, keeping him grounded as the world slowly sharpens. Plankton's thoughts are like bubbles popping in the sea, each one briefly forming before disappearing into the depths. The nurse's voice is a distant lullaby, guiding his consciousness back to the surface. He blinks again, his vision slowly coming into focus. The nurse's face swims into view, her smile a lifeline in the murky water of his confusion. "You're okay," she whispers, her voice a gentle ripple. "Just rest." The room sways like an underwater garden, the soothing sounds of the recovery room a soft symphony that Plankton can't quite place. His mind is a kaleidoscope of half-formed thoughts. Sponge Bob's hand is a steady beacon, the gentle squeeze a comforting reminder that he's not alone. Plankton's eye widens as he takes in the sight of his friend, his face a canvas of concern. "You're okay," Sponge Bob whispers, his voice a gentle wave washing over the static in Plankton's mind. Suddenly, Sponge Bob's phone beeps, a video call request from an unexpected name: Mr. Krabs. Sandy's eyes widen and she looks at Sponge Bob, who nods slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. He accepts the call, the screen filling with the familiar craggy face of their grumpy neighbor. Mr. Krabs looks sheepish, his eyes darting around the screen. "Plankton," he starts, his voice a gruff whisper. "I heard what happened with the autism and broken leg.." Sponge Bob's grip on Plankton's hand tightens, his face a mask of caution. Plankton's antennas quiver with apprehension. "What Krabs want?" Plankton mumbles, his voice a static hiss. His single eye narrows. Mr. Krabs clears his throat, his face a portrait of discomfort. "Look, Plankton, I... I wanted to say... I'm sorry." His eyes dart to the side, avoiding the camera. Plankton's antennae stand on end, his eye unblinking. "What for?" he asks, his voice a wary whisper. Mr. Krabs' face scrunches up, his claws fidgeting with his apron strings. "For, uh, you know, the frying pan... and the... uh, everything." Plankton's antennae twitch with surprise, his voice a static hush. "Why?" Mr. Krabs looks away, his eyes anywhere but on the screen. "I know I've been... rough on you lately," he says, his voice a gruff rumble. "And I didn't know about the... the autism thing. It's just, the Krabby Patty formula is all I've got, and I can't... I don't know how to make it up to ye but I just called to let ye know." Plankton's antennae quiver with shock, his eye wide. "Mr. Krabs," he whispers, his voice a static hum. "Is this... real?" Mr. Krabs nods, his face a map of regret. "Yeah, it's me," he says, his voice a gruff mumble. "I know I've not been the best... neighbor, or... frenemy." Sponge Bob's eyes are wide, his grip on Plankton's hand unwavering. Sandy's jaw is slack with disbelief. "Mr. Krabs," Karen's voice is a cautious whisper. "That's... really nice of you to say." Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes returning to the screen. "It's just, I've seen what you've gone through, and I... I shouldn't have hurt you." His claws fiddle with his apron, a rare show of vulnerability. "And I forgive ye."

Anonymous asked: autism culture is feeling like a nuisance when you’re overstimulated because you don’t want to be mean to anyone or have a meltdown but you can’t keep masking and everything is too much

Anonymous asked: Undiagnosed autism culture is your family can't comprehend that you are also autistic because you have a family member that was diagnosed as a child and has different support needs than you.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ & ꜱᴜʀɢᴇʀʏ “Good morning, Ms!” Ms has hypersensitivity due to autism. Even a slight touch is unbearably painful! How will Ms get through the medical exam? Ms sits on the exam table, heart racing. Ms tries to focus on the poster of a serene beach scene to calm herself. Dr. Hartwell, noticing her distress, approaches carefully. "Ms I know this can be overwhelming. But I'm here to help you. We'll take it slow, okay?" Ms nods, gripping the cold metal bar tightly. He starts with gentle explanations of each step, his voice calm and steady. Ms tries to breathe deeply, fighting the urge to retreat. The door clicks shut, a soft, final sound that echoes in the sterile room. He asks if she's ready, and she shrugs. His gloved hand touches her skin, and she tenses. "Ms, I'm sorry," Dr. Hartwell says, retreating slightly. He tries a different approach, his voice softer now. "How about I touch with less pressure?" The pain subsides a fraction, but it still remains. Dr. Hartwell then gets out a big metal speculum. Ms sees it, feels it, she’s uncontrollably shaking. "Ms," Dr. Hartwell says calmly, placing the speculum down. “Sorry. To big and hard,” Ms manages. The doctor nods thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving hers. “Let's use this instead,” he says, picking up a smaller, plastic one. It's less daunting, less cold, but the pain lingers, unbearable. Ms grips the bar tighter, her knuckles white with strain. “You're doing great,” Dr. Hartwell whispers, his voice a balm. He inserts the speculum slowly, his eyes on her face, reading every twitch, every flinch. Ms squeezes her eyes shut, body rigid with tension. The plastic touches, slides, and she gasps, but it's more unbearable than she feared. Dr. Hartwell stops immediately, his expression filled with concern. "Would you like to insert it?" He gently withdraws the tool. They’re running out of time. He looks around the room. "How about we try this?" he asks, his voice a gentle coax. "You can sit in the chair, lean back, and I'll examine you that way." Ms nods, desperation in her eyes. Dr. Hartwell adjusts the chair, bringing the foot rest closer. He tells her to put her feet up, the action itself traumatizing. He takes the smaller speculum, coated it in gel, and tells her to breathe deeply. Dr. Hartwell proceeds, his movements precise and gentle. Ms feels the pressure, the intrusion. She whimpers. The doctor's eyes meet hers, filled with understanding. "Let's try this," he suggests, picking up a small object. "I'm going to use this cotton swab instead. It's softer, less intrusive." Ms nods, the fear lessening ever so slightly. The cotton swab touches her gently. The pain does not vanish, but it's tolerable, a dull throb instead of a piercing scream. The doctor's voice remains calm, guiding her through the motions. “Good. Now for a mammogram..” Ms feels a new wave of anxiety crash over her. The machine looms in the corner, cold and unforgiving. "It’s important we check everything today," Dr. Hartwell explains, his eyes kind and patient. "But I know this is hard for you. Can you please stand up and come…” Ms, however, is still shaking, knows her hypersensitive condition will render it. The doctor notices and quickly adapts. "How about we skip the mammogram for now and discuss other options?" They talk through alternatives, like manual self-checks at home. Dr. Hartwell assures her that her health is his priority. He's willing to work with her to find the best approach, one that's comfortable and effective. Ms feels a glimmer of hope, a hint of trust and gratitude. They agree on a plan: a manual exam for today, and they'll explore further options for if needed. Her eyes light up with hope. They go over the instructions, simple steps she can do herself. Ms feels empowered by the idea of having control over the process. The doctor's empathy is palpable. They practice together, a mock exam with a plastic model. Mis's hands shake slightly as she mimics his gentle touch. He corrects her grip, praising each small victory. “Your in need of two hormone inoculations.” Dr. Hartwell says. Mis's heart sinks. She hates the sharp sting, the feeling of invasion. She looks at the needle, so thin and yet so terrifying. Her anxiety spikes, her chest constricts, making it hard to breathe. Dr. Hartwell notices and nods. "Ok let's try something different," he says, his voice calm and measured. He shows her a cream, explaining how it can help. They apply it, waiting for it to work. Finally, the time comes. Dr. Hartwell holds the needle, his grip steady and firm. His touch is swift and sure, but Ms feels the pain, a sharp reminder of her vulnerability. “One down, one more to…” But she cries. Dr. Hartwell pauses, understanding in his eyes. "It's ok," he says gently. "We can find another way." He sets it aside and pulls out a small device. "This is a topical anesthetic spray. It will numb the area so you don't feel as much." Mis nods, desperate. He applies the spray, and she feels a coldness spread where the inoculation will soon be. The doctor waits patiently, letting the numbing agent work its magic. Mis's breathing slows, the panic easing slightly. "Ready?" he asks, his voice soothing. This time, the approach is less terrifying. It’s administered with minimal discomfort. Ms winces but does not pull away. The pain is there, but it's muffled. Dr. Hartwell nods, his expression a mix of relief and determination. "Good job, Ms. You're doing so well." Ms needs a blood draw. She's not just afraid of needles, but the anticipation of pain, the cold touch of the alcohol swab, the pressure of the phlebotomist's grip...it's all too much. Not to mention the actual poking prick.. Dr. Hartwell notices and suggests a compromise. They'll use a butterfly needle, smaller and more comfortable, and a warmer to heat before drawn. The nurse prepares the equipment, movements efficient and kind. She's used to dealing with anxious patients, but Mis's fear isn’t just fear or annoyance; it’s autistic condition and hypersensitivity that Ms herself knows limited pain tolerance. The nurse wraps the warm cloth around Mis's arm, and the gentle heat seeps. Dr. Hartwell takes his place beside her, holding the small butterfly needle with a cotton ball at the tip. The nurse places the heated alcohol swab on the inner elbow, and Ms tenses. It's a gentle poke and she feels the slight sting as the nurse inserts it. But of course the sting is magnified for Ms. The nurse is quick, her hands steady with expert ease, and the whole process is over in seconds. Mis's heart is racing, her body shaking. Dr. Hartwell rubs her shoulder, his touch a reassurance. "It's over," he says softly. "You did it." Ms nods. "What can we use for next time?" The nurse asks. “X-rays, different form of the hormonal injection where no needles are involved, urinal test instead of bleeding? A bigger room? Child sedatives?” Ms murmurs. Dr. Hartwell nods, scribbling down notes. "We'll explore all those options. In the meantime, you can go home!" “Thanks..” Ms says. The next appointment, Mis goes knowing her sensitivities have not changed. This time, Dr. Hartwell meets her in the hall. Mis breaks down, despite being gratefully understanding and trying to be brave. They take her to a quieter, more private exam room, decorated with soothing colors and a soft, plush chair. "Take your time, and tell when you're ready." Ms sits down. She sees a box labeled "DIY Health Kits" and feels a spark of curiosity. Dr. Hartwell opens the box, revealing an array of tools and instructions tailored to her needs. "This is your DIY health kit," he explains, his voice calm and soothing. "You can use to perform self-exams at home. It's less invasive, and you can do it on your own terms." Ms nods, a flicker of hope in her eyes, tears of relief instead of upset tears. He hands a small container with a test strip inside. "This is for urine. It's quick and easy, and it will tell what needs to know." Ms takes the container, follows his instructions, each step a small victory. Dr. Hartwell shows her a slim device, similar to a tampon but with a small cap. "This is DIY Pap. You insert it like so, then twist to collect a sample." The vibrating ice pack is next. "For finger pricks," he says, his voice calm. Ms looks at it, a strange mix of relief and curiosity. The thought of doing it herself is less terrifying than the clinic. "Now, let's talk mammograms," Dr. Hartwell says, his gaze soft. He shows her a handheld scanning device. "This is a DIY mammogram. It uses sound waves, no radiation, and it's less invasive than the traditional. You can use it in the privacy of your home, at your own pace. It's designed to be gentle." Ms nods, the fear slightly eased. The doctor opens another compartment in the DIY health kit, revealing a pack of colonoscopy strips. "These are for checking your bowel health. They're painless and easy to use. All you do is defecate on this, will tell what’s going on down there, ok?" Ms nods. The idea of self-examination is less daunting than the traditional methods. Dr. Hartwell's empathy is a balm, his patience unyielding. He opens the last compartment. Inside, she finds a set of small patches. "These are the hormonal patches," he says, holding one up. "They're like stickers. You just apply one to your skin, and it delivers the medicine through your skin. No needles." Mis's eyes widen. It's like he's reading her mind, offering a solution tailored to her fears. Ms feels a surge of gratitude to Dr. Hartwell. His understanding and willingness to adapt to her needs make her feel seen and heard, something she's not used to, in a medical setting. For the first time, Ms feels a glimmer of hope that she can take control of without the debilitating pain nor fear of ableist microaggressions. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )

ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᶠᵃⁿᶜʸ ᴼⁿᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ "ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ˢᵘʳᵉ! ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵘᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱⁿⁱ ᶜʰⁱⁿᵃ ᶜᵒᵗ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᵁˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳⁱⁿᵉˢ ᴵ ˢᵒˡᵈ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ʷʰʸ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵘᶜʰ ˢⁱᶻᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᶠᵉˡˡ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱⁿᵃ ᵇᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵃˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ ˢᵒ ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ⁱⁿᵃᵘᵈⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍᵘʸ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵗᵉˢᵗ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴴᵒᵘˢᵉ ᶠᵃⁿᶜʸ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ˢᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵍᵃᶻⁱⁿᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᶠᵉˡˡᵃ!" "ᴼʰ ʰⁱ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖʳᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ'ˢ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴿᵉᵃᵈʸ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰʸ'ˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷ⁻ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ; ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵘˢ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ᵐʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵒᵖ ᶜʰᵉᶠ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵘᵖᵍʳᵃᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃᵗᵉʳʸ!" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ?" "ᴹʸ ᵇᵘᵗˡᵉʳ‧" ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵗˡᵉʳ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᔆᵒ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵃᶜᵗ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴵ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵒ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ʷᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈˢ ᵒʰ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᶜᵃˢʰⁱᵉʳ!" "ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵃʳʸ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᶜᵒⁿᶠʳᵒⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵏᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ 'ᵉᵐ ᵇᵘˢʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱˢᵗ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ‽" ᴬˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʳᵃⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʷʰʸ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵏⁱˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ‧ ᴮʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ˢᶜʳᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇʸ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵈˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵉᵐᵇᵉᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ‧ ᴮᵃᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʰᵃʳᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ; ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵍˡᵒᵇ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵈ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵃˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵃˢᵖʰʸˣⁱᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢⁱᵖʰᵒⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ‧ "ᴬᵍʰ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧" ᴱˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿

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ᴸⁱᵃʳ ᴸⁱᵃʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵉˡˡʸ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ ᶜˡᵒᵘᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗⁿⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒʳᵃˡ ᵗʳᵉᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ˢᵖʳᵉᵃᵈ ʳᵃᵖⁱᵈˡʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱˡᵈ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠⁱᶜᵘˡᵗʸ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵖʳᵒᵖᵉʳˡʸ‧ ᵁⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ/ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴸᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘⁿᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵇʸ ʲᵘᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵘⁿˢ⸴ ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧ ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵐᵖˡʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ˢ⁻ˢᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠⁱˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒʷˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿᵏ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵖ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳⁱⁿˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵈʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᶠᶠᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ˢᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁿ ᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ⸴ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" "ᵁᵍʰʰʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵂᵘʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵃ⁻ ʷʰᵃ’ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵ?" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮ⁻⁻ ʷʰ⁻ʷʰᵃ⁻ʰᵘʰ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ?" ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏᵉᵉⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃⁿ‧ "ᴿᵉᵃᵈʸ?" ᴴᵉ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃʳᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ‧" ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᵀᵃˢᵗᵉˢ ʳᵉᶠʳᵉˢʰⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒˡᵛᵉ ᵃ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵒʳ ᵍᵒ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧" "ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢʷᵉᵃᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏ?" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵒˡᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒʳᵃˡ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᶠⁱʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵐᵉˡᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᴵ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˢᵒ⸴ ᵗʰᵃ⁻ ᵘʰ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧‧" "ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ‧" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵃ ʷᵃˢʰ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃˡᵃʳᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵛᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ʸᵒᵘ?" "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˢʰ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧" ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˢᵘᵖⁱⁿᵉ‧ "ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ⸴ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʳᵉˢᵗᶠᵘˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵘʳᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ 'ᴿᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵖᵒᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ‧‧' ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟔𝟓𝟎

ᴮᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵀᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ “ᴼʰ ᵖᵒᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ “ᔆᵘʳᵉ ʷᵉ’ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵂᵉ’ᵛᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ‧ ᔆᵒ ʸᵉˢ, ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜʰᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ‧” “ᴹᵒᵐᵐʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ…” “ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ? ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵒ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ, ⁿᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ‧” ᴴᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢ ˢᵒⁿ‧ “ᴸⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ, ᵃⁿ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᶜʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ’ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ “ᵂʰᵃ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ, ᶠᵒʳ ‘ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵉˢ ˢᵃᵖⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱᵃᵉ’ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵒʷ…” “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ!” “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰⁱʳᵈ ᵐᵒˡᵃʳˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᴹᵘᵐ ʷⁱˡˡ ʰᵉ ᵇᵉ ʰᵘʳᵗ?” “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧‧” “ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!” “ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ, ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉᵈ, ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇᵒᵗʰ‧ “ᴴᵒʷ ⁱˢ ʰᵉ?” “ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ, ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ ᴵ’ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ‧ “ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ?” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢʰᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ʲᵘᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴸᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ, ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ “ᵂᵉ’ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ‧” ᴬˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ’ˢ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴼᵖᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰᵉᵈ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘʳʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵈʳᵉˢˢ‧ “ᴵ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʷᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ᵇᵒᵗʰ…” ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ‧ “ᴬˡˡ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ!” ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿ‧ “ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ…” “ᴳᵉⁿᵉ‽” ˢˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ, ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈˡʸ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᴼʰ ʰⁱ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵘⁿˢᵘʳᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ, ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵘⁿˢᵘʳᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵃˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ’ˢ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵃˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵐᵖᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ’ʳᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁿᵉʷ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ “ᴸᵉᵗ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧‧” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ‧ “ᴼᵖᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰⁱᵗᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵈ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴮⁱᵗᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ‧” ᔆʰᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ʲᵒᵇ!” ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ‧ “ᵂʰʸ?” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ᴾʳᵒᵘᵈ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ!” “ᴴᵘʰ?” ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ “ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵗ?” ᴴᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏˢ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵛ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉˢ ᵒʳ…” “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵗʰ ᵉˣᵗʳᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵃᵖ‧ “ᵂʰʸ’ˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ?” “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵒᵘʳ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵉⁿᵗˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵃʷ‧” ᔆʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ’ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ ˢᵒ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ?” “ᵂᵉˡˡ ʸᵉˢ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ⁱᵗ’ᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ’ᵈ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧‧” “ᔆᵒ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧‧” “ᴵ’ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ…” “ᔆᵒ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ, ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ʰᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ “ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ˢᵒ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵃᵖ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴸᵉˢˢ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ ‘ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ‧’ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵍᵍʸ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ, ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵍᵃᵍˢ‧ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ, ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵍʰᵘʳᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ!” ᔆʰᵉ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵍʰᵘʳᵗ‧ “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ‧ “ᵂⁱˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ʷᵃˢʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ…” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ‧ “ᔆᵒ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ?” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢʰʳᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ‧ “ᴴᵒᵖᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵃᵇˢᵒˡᵘᵗᵉˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ ‘ᴳᵉⁿᵉ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵖᵃʸ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ; ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ’ᵈ ᵇᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱᶠ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ!” “ᴵ ᵃᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ, ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᴼˡᵈ ᴹᵃⁿ ᴶᵉⁿᵏⁱⁿˢ ᵗʳʸ ᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵘʳᵍᵉʳ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ!” “ʸᵉᵃ! ᴬⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ, ᵇᵒᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ, ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ!” ᵀʰᵉʸ ʰᵘᵍ, ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇʸ ᵐʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵐᵉ…” “ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ‧‧” ✧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟗𝟖𝟗

"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."

ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ! ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆᵉᵉᵐˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵏⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖˡᵒᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ ⁱᵐᵃᵍᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵘᵍʰᵗʸ ˡⁱˢᵗ! 'ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᵍⁱᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ' ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵒˡˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵒʳʸ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵒᵒˡ ᵇᵒˣ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒˡ ᵇᵒˣ ʰᵉ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ⸴ ᵗⁱˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵍⁱᶠᵗ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧ "‧‧‧ʸ’ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖᵗᵃˡᵏˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵒˡˡˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᶠ⸴ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ!" ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵍˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 1 6

ᵀᵒ ᴴᵉᵃˡˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵉᵗ ᵃ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᶜˡᵃᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʳᵃᵖ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʰᵒˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃˡᶠ⸴ ᵃˢᵏᵉʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ˡᵒᶜᵃˡ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿˢ ᵈᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᴷⁱᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ; ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᵘᵖ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴾᵃⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ʳᵃᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ‧ 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ʰᵉᶜᵗⁱᶜ ᵈᵃʸ‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍʳⁱᵖ ᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴹʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵈ‧ 'ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ "ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛⁱᵒᵘʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ⁻ ʷʰᵒ⁻ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ⁻' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒʰᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ‧‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˡⁱᵈ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ‧ "ᵂʰᵉⁿ’ᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ; ᵃˡˡ'ˢ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ!" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ‧ "ᴸᵒᵒᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗⁱˡᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ˢᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃˢ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃᵛⁱˡʸ ᵈᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉᵈ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒʷ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵛⁱᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵍᵘˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ʰᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧

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ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵘʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ - 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟶.𝟼𝚔? ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃˢʰ ᵖʳⁱᶻᵉ ᵃᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿ‧‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵍᵘⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵖⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᵗᵃˡˡ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴰᵉⁿⁿⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵗᵃˡᵉ ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍˡᵉʳ ᶜⁱʳᶜˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠˡᵃᵗˢ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ʲᵒⁱⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ! ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐⁱᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ⸴ ᵒʳ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃⁿᵍ‧ ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢᵘˡᵗˢ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵉᵐᵉˢⁱˢ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉˡʸ ᵈᵉᶠᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴬ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵍᵘʸ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵐᵇˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖˡʸ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˡᵉˢˢ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵐᵉʳᶜʸ⸴ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ; ᵇᵘᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʳᵘˡʸ ᵃʷᶠᵘˡ‧‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ‽" "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵐᵉ‧" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵛʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵘˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᵂⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˡᵉˢˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ‧‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵐ⸴ ⁱᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢˢᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵒʷ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵖᵘˡˢᵉ⸴ ˢⁱᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᶠ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰᵒˡᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ʰᵉˡᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁿᵒ ʳᵉˢⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ "ᴺᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ʷᵉᵗ ʳᵃᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒ ˢⁱᵍⁿ ᵒᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʷᵃˢʰ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉⁿˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʳᵃᵍ ᵈᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˢʰ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵒʷˡ ᵗᵒ ʷᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᵂᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴼᵘᵍʰʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉˣᶜᵉˢˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵃᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳˢ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᵂᵃᵘᵍʰ ʰᵒʷ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᵂʰᵉⁿ’ᵈ‧‧‧ ʸᵃʰ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ "ᴳᵃʰ⸴ ᵐʸ⸴ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ; ᵃʷ‧ ᵂᵃʰʰʰʰ ᵂʰᵃᵗ⸴ ʷᵃʰʰ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‽" "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵇ? ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʷᵉᵃᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᵂᵃⁱᵗ ʷʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ? ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵈⁱᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʸᵒᵘ! ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵃᵈ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃˡᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴵ⸴ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ; ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ‧‧"

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