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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢠⠒⢢⠈⠄⣠⡀⠄⠐⢠⣀⠄⠡⡐⠲⠂⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⡋⠔⡢⠑⠂⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠐⠣⢍⡂⢍⠢⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⢊⠅⡲⠘⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⢬⡐⣁⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⡡⡣⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢆⠦⡑⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⢆⡕⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡱⣈⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⢣⠙⠎⡀⠄⢂⣰⣼⡿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢿⣶⣤⣁⠈⠄⡘⢰⢊⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠥⢎⡉⠆⠰⠾⠟⠛⢁⣠⣄⣤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢠⣠⣤⣄⣀⠉⠙⠛⠿⠆⡐⠡⢎⡜⠄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢼⢜⠢⠜⡠⢃⠐⡠⣼⠞⠉⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣤⠀⠂⢀⠐⣨⡞⠋⠁⠀⠈⢻⣿⣦⡐⡀⠢⢌⡑⢎⣒⢣⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡏⣬⢃⠇⡔⢨⠐⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠄⢸⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⢃⠆⡘⢆⡳⣐⠂⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡇⠶⣉⠒⡌⠢⠌⣻⣿⣦⣤⣴⣾⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠠⣹⣿⣦⣤⣤⣶⡿⠻⣿⣿⣿⢁⠊⡔⣉⠦⡳⢌⡁⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⢣⣛⡌⢳⢈⡑⢢⠩⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣾⣿⠟⡔⠠⢁⠸⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣴⣿⡿⡳⢈⠒⡌⡔⣣⠽⣠⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⡰⣝⢢⢣⠘⣄⠢⠑⠮⣙⠛⠛⠛⡉⢡⠊⡐⢀⠆⠠⢉⠢⣙⠛⠛⠛⢋⠡⢊⠔⡡⢊⠴⣑⢎⡓⡂⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢷⢊⡧⣊⠵⢠⠃⡍⠰⡀⠍⡄⠃⠤⢁⠢⠐⡡⢈⠒⡀⠆⡄⠩⡐⡉⢄⠣⢌⠢⢡⢃⠞⡜⡮⡹⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢎⢶⣩⢚⠤⣋⠔⢣⠘⡰⢈⠱⣈⠂⡌⢡⠐⠡⠌⡰⠁⡌⡑⠤⡑⢌⠒⠬⡘⢥⢪⡝⡼⢱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢊⡱⣋⠶⡡⢎⠥⣊⠱⢌⠒⡄⢣⣘⣤⣿⣶⣧⣔⠡⢂⡑⢢⠱⣈⢎⡱⢩⢖⣣⠞⡑⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢍⠳⡝⣎⢲⡡⢓⠬⡱⢘⡄⠻⠟⣋⠛⡛⠟⣡⠣⡘⢥⠚⣔⢪⡔⣏⠞⡰⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢤⠱⠙⢊⠡⣐⢏⡖⣡⠇⡜⡱⢊⡔⢣⠜⡱⢢⡱⣉⢦⢻⡀⡌⡘⠊⢎⠡⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣀⠀⡴⠙⡀⠆⠢⠙⠢⢃⠙⠚⡘⢃⠛⡘⠑⠫⣜⡱⠎⡑⢃⠓⡉⠚⢃⠛⡐⢃⠫⠄⠢⢁⠬⢢⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀ ⡰⠁⠆⠚⠄⢃⠐⡈⠄⡁⠒⡀⠮⣴⢰⣂⢖⡰⢍⡖⡉⠓⣃⢶⡐⢦⢢⡕⣢⠖⡀⢂⠐⡈⠐⡀⢂⠡⠛⠀⠆⠳⠀ ⠆⢡⠈⡐⡈⠄⢂⠐⠠⢀⠡⢀⡑⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣣⠐⡀⠂⠄⠡⠐⣀⠂⢌⠐⣈⠐⡄ ⡎⣄⠣⡔⡡⡘⢄⠊⡔⢂⠆⡰⡨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇⡆⠰⡁⢎⠰⡁⢆⡘⣄⢣⡐⢢⠁ ⠐⠎⠷⢙⠵⠛⣬⡳⠜⡬⣲⡥⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠸⣣⠕⠮⢱⣚⠼⠵⠎⠳⠎⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠶⠖⠿⠉⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠛⠩⠛⠛⠛⠶⠶⠦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⠛⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⢟⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠣⠈⡻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣠⣦⣴⣶⣄⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣹⡄⠀ ⠀⢸⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⡆⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠛⠹⢿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠈⢙⠀⣀⠸⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀ ⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⠿⠁⠀⠰⠛⠀⣾⡇⣿⠘⢿⡛⠁⢹⡇ ⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠁⠰⠶⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⢹⡀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇ ⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠸⡜⡇⠀⠀⢰⣿⠁ ⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⡏⠀⠙⢹⡀⠀⣾⡏⡀ ⠸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⢀⣼⢃⡁⢤⡀⠈⣿⢠⣿⠁⠀ ⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⠾⠛⣸⡟⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⢰⣿⢃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣈⣹⣏⣁⣠⣤⣤⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣷⣶⣶⡿⠛⣹⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠋⠁⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠻⢇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣀⠈⠃⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠄⠀⠀⠘⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣁⠀⠐⠀⢀⣼⣧⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣶⡿⠿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⡀⠀⢀⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠟⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣖⠁⢀⡤⡄⠀⠀⡖⠠⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠏⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⢼⠤⠇⠀⠀⢣⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠃⠀⠐⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠈⠒⠂⢂⣀⣀⠇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣼⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⣿⣤⣀⣀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣼⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡈⢛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡾⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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Follow my whatsapp channel How? Edit this and copy then type it somewhere example: whatsapp, messenger, messege, then send it and chick the link To the ones who follows: TTTYYYYSSSMMMMM💕💕💕💕💕🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

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⠂⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡾⣟⣿⠿⠛⠛⠋⡉⠍⡐⢠⠠⡐⡈⠌⣉⠙⠛⠛⠽⣿⣛⢽⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣶⣻⠟⠛⠉⡀⡀⠆⡁⠆⡁⠆⡐⢁⠂⠔⡁⠊⢄⠊⠔⡠⢂⠀⠉⠛⢾⣝⢶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠉⡉⠁⠄⡌⠂⢄⠁⠒⡀⠒⡈⠔⠠⠌⡐⠢⢠⠁⠆⢨⠐⠄⠢⠡⠌⠰⢀⠈⠛⢮⣷⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡗⠁⢂⠐⡉⠐⠠⢁⠂⠌⠡⠐⠡⠈⠌⣁⠂⠄⡑⠠⠌⠒⠠⠌⡐⢁⠢⢈⠁⢢⢈⠐⡀⠉⠻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡽⠋⡀⠎⠠⠁⢄⣡⡾⠀⠌⢂⠡⢃⠡⢉⡐⠈⠻⣷⣤⣁⣂⣡⠈⠔⡈⠄⠒⡈⠌⣀⠢⢁⠤⢁⠂⠒⢾⢧⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣿⡟⠁⡐⢠⣨⣤⡷⠿⠋⠠⢁⡘⢀⠢⠄⠂⠅⡠⢁⠂⠄⡈⢉⠉⡉⢁⠂⡐⠌⠡⢐⠂⠄⢂⠄⠢⢐⠈⡐⠈⠡⣳⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⣴⣿⠟⢠⠂⠄⢋⠉⠠⠐⠠⢈⠄⠡⠐⡀⠢⢈⠒⠠⢁⠢⢈⢐⣤⣦⡶⠷⠾⠶⢦⣌⡐⠈⠄⡉⠤⢈⡐⠨⠐⠄⡁⢂⠡⠹⡄⠀⠀ ⣿⢟⡾⠀⠂⠌⡐⠠⠈⠄⡁⠂⠄⡈⠆⣁⠂⡑⠠⢈⢂⡁⢂⣶⣿⣵⣶⣶⡶⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢾⣄⠄⠡⠂⠤⢁⡘⢀⠒⠠⢀⠡⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣾⠃⡈⢐⣠⡶⠷⢛⣷⣺⣷⣤⡐⠈⢄⠒⣈⠁⢂⠤⢘⣵⣿⣿⢿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢷⣆⠡⠌⢠⠐⠂⠌⢒⠠⠀⠀⢣⡄ ⣿⡇⠐⢠⡾⠋⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡟⠉⠻⣆⡀⠒⡄⠨⠄⠒⣼⣿⣿⢯⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠂⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣦⠐⠠⠌⢂⢁⠢⠄⠡⠀⠰⣿ ⢻⡅⢨⡿⠁⢠⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣿⠀⠀⠙⣧⠐⠠⠑⡈⣼⣿⣿⣯⣿⣟⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⠐⡈⠄⢂⠰⢈⠐⡀⡆⡿ ⢻⡄⣿⠁⠀⣼⣿⣿⡿⣽⣿⢿⣷⣄⣀⣹⣇⠠⠑⡄⣿⣿⣿⣾⣯⣿⢯⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠠⠈⠄⠂⡄⠡⠀⡇⡇ ⣹⢾⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣽⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⠣⢰⣿⣿⡟⠉⠛⢿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠐⠀⠀⡐⠀⠰⣟⠠⢁⠊⡐⠠⢁⠂⡄⣇ ⣿⡞⡇⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣾⣟⣷⣿⣿⡏⣷⢉⡚⣧⢻⣧⡀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠠⠀⡀⢀⠀⢘⣏⠀⢂⡐⢈⠁⢂⠀⠐⣿ ⣿⣧⡷⠀⠀⠈⣿⣧⡀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⣿⠢⠉⣿⡀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠈⢄⡐⠠⢊⠀⠀⢸⠷ ⣿⣹⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⣿⠀⠁⠘⣧⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⣠⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠃⠈⡀⠠⢁⠂⢨⣴⡏⠁ ⠉⢿⡽⣆⠀⠀⠀⢀⡶⣯⠉⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⠀⠌⠐⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠉⠉⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⢄⠣⠌⡑⢠⣸⢟⡞⠀⠀ ⠀⠸⣿⡹⣦⡀⣠⡟⠁⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠠⠁⠂⢀⠘⢳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⢀⠀⠛⢦⣄⡀⣼⠇⡈⢆⡑⢂⡁⢢⢯⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⠿⠋⢀⠐⣺⣧⣤⠶⠶⠶⠛⠈⠳⣶⠋⠉⠁⠉⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠒⠛⠻⠀⠄⢂⠀⠈⠙⠻⣦⡈⠔⡈⠄⣼⣻⡟⠈⠀⠀⠀ ⣬⣿⣻⠏⠁⡀⠤⠀⠄⠀⡀⠀⡀⢀⠀⠄⣐⣠⠿⢦⣄⣂⣈⡀⢁⡠⠀⠄⢂⠐⢀⠈⠠⠀⠌⡐⠠⢀⠈⠻⣦⡘⣛⣽⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣷⠏⠀⠐⡀⠂⠌⢀⠂⠄⠁⢰⡶⠾⠛⠋⠁⡀⢀⠈⠉⠁⠉⠉⢹⡇⠀⠂⠌⡀⠄⠁⡐⠠⠀⡁⠂⠄⠀⠉⣿⣻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡇⠀⠄⠒⡀⢁⠂⠠⢈⠀⠌⣼⡗⠀⠐⠠⠁⡐⠂⠠⠁⡘⠠⠐⠈⢿⡄⠐⠠⢀⠂⠁⡐⠀⡁⠐⠈⡐⠈⢀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣼⡅⠀⠌⠐⡀⢂⠀⠡⢀⠂⠀⣽⣿⣶⢤⣆⣐⠀⠀⡁⠠⠀⠄⠁⠠⠘⣧⠈⠐⠠⢀⠁⠄⡐⢀⠁⠂⠄⠁⢀⣾⣻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣷⡀⠈⠐⡀⢂⠈⠄⠠⠀⢡⣿⣿⠉⠳⠾⢭⣿⣻⣶⣶⡶⠦⡼⠴⢦⣾⣄⠉⠀⠂⠈⡀⠐⠀⠈⠠⣐⣨⣾⣻⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠿⣶⣿⣤⣴⣤⣤⣤⣦⣴⣬⢾⣷⡏⠀⠀⠀⢀⢀⡉⢉⠉⠙⣛⢛⡟⣻⣿⣽⣿⠛⠶⠷⡶⠳⠟⣿⣿⣯⣽⣿⡉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠿⠛⢋⠉⡉⠄⢂⠤⢉⠉⡉⠛⠽⣳⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠚⠉⠄⢂⠌⠄⠌⡐⠌⠄⡂⢂⡁⠢⢁⠂⠄⡙⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⡿⠃⠄⡉⣰⡄⠨⡐⠌⡐⠘⣦⣄⣡⡀⠅⡂⠌⠒⡀⠆⡈⠹⣦⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣴⡟⠀⡬⠶⠛⠡⢀⠡⠐⡠⠁⢆⠠⢈⣡⣁⣂⡌⠐⠡⡐⠠⢁⠂⠌⢣⠀⠀ ⣿⡟⠀⢡⣀⣐⡠⢁⠢⠐⢡⠀⢅⢢⣾⣿⡷⠄⠉⠙⠳⣤⠁⠢⢁⠌⡠⠁⢁⠀ ⣿⠀⣼⠃⣭⣿⣿⠳⢆⡉⠄⠌⢢⣿⣿⢿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡄⢁⠂⡄⠡⠀⢾ ⣟⣸⠃⣼⣿⣿⢿⣄⠈⢷⠈⡐⣿⣿⣻⣿⣷⣤⣄⣶⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠂⠤⢁⠢⢹ ⣯⡇⠠⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣆⢩⣿⡟⠛⢷⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢀⠠⣇⠈⡐⠄⢂⢸ ⣿⣅⠀⢻⣏⠉⣿⣷⣿⡿⢼⠘⣏⠷⣦⣾⣿⣿⠿⠁⠀⠐⠀⢰⡇⠐⡠⠌⠀⡿ ⢿⣯⠀⠀⢙⡿⠿⠿⠋⠀⣻⠀⠹⡄⠉⠉⠋⢡⠶⣄⠀⠀⠀⡼⢀⠂⡔⣠⡿⠁ ⠀⢿⣧⣀⡞⢹⡆⠀⠀⣴⠃⣀⣀⠙⢦⣀⣀⣺⡄⠘⠲⣄⣼⠁⢎⠰⣰⣟⠁⠀ ⣠⣿⠟⠉⢀⠘⠋⠉⢉⠀⣹⢇⣀⡠⢀⡀⠈⠁⠁⠂⠄⡀⠈⠳⣄⢾⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠃⠀⠌⡀⠄⠂⣸⠏⠋⢁⠀⡈⢁⠁⢻⡀⠡⠈⠐⠠⢀⠁⠂⠹⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠀⢈⠐⡀⠄⠁⣹⣶⣦⣤⣐⣀⠀⠂⠈⢧⠀⠡⢈⠐⠠⠈⠐⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢿⣦⣀⣂⣀⣈⣤⣿⡃⠈⠉⡓⠛⠻⡟⡿⣻⣶⠥⣤⠴⢶⣞⣾⣟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀
▬▬▬.◙.▬▬▬ ═▂▄▄▓▄▄▂ ◢◤ █▀▀████▄▄▄◢◤ █▄ █ █▄ ███▀▀▀▀▀▀╬ ◥█████◤ ══╩══╩═ ╬═╬ ╬═╬ Just dropped down to say ╬═╬ as a 9 yr old this site, its so annoying bc ppl ╬═╬ keep complaining abt ppl on this site being weird ╬═╬ and that there are kids. IDC ABT THOSE WEIRD PPL ╬═╬ ITS SO ANNOYING THERE IS A DISLIKE BUTTON 4 A REASON ╬═╬ SO USE IT. ╬═╬ ╬═╬ ╬═╬ ╬═╬ thanks 4 reading <3 <3 ╬═╬☻/ ╬═╬/▌ ╬═╬/ \
this NEEDS to be an app౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚≽^•༚• ྀི≼ (reposted🔁)>ᴗ<
(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
🥺🙏q(╥﹏╥)p🙏🧸❤️🐻🍯+”🧸*”+
i was thinking wtf are yall talking abt until i saw those.... pls stop ppl! ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
"YOU JUST SAY STUFF ABOUT UKRAINE, PALESTINE, RIGHTS ETC FOR ATTENTION N CLOUT 🤓" this site is no profit,anonymous and I dont write my name on any of my posts. Also i give actual links to donation sites (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ silence you priviliged 1st-world country citizen. repost and upvote to spread the word
make this an app plss 𝒾𝓉'𝒹 𝒷ℯ 𝓰𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓉 ( like if u agree)
‎‧₊˚🎀𝒑𝒍𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒘𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒚𝒎𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒔 & 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒋𝒊𝒔 (𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔)🎀‎˚₊‧౨ৎ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。˚
igaf about yall lame ass smut/nsfw shit just post symbols or emoji combos idc
please make this an app
bro stop talkin shit... i just want some symbols for my discord server man 🧙🏿‍♂️🦅🦅🖕 stfu
why r ppl uploading more random msgs than emoji combo now? 💀
There are kids on this website trying to look for cute kaomojis/emojis, and then see inappropriate stuff. If you make these kinds of things then STOP. It's NOT ok. Please copy and paste this and spread the word. Thank you. <3,,,,,,,,,,,,
can you all stop saying "dont post this" or "dont post that" cuz im trying to find some symbols
yall, pls stop posting weird stuff here!? i js wanna see cool combos,, not amgonus 🌽 :'0
can yall shut up in trying to find cool combos✌️˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
can u just all shut the fuck up? saying “thorny” people get out makes this situation even worse
Horny people, get out of here. There could be little kids just trying to find cute kaomoji's, then see your horrible stuff. Copy & Paste this, and Submit it to spread the message #bekind #stopthethornys 3/12/2023
‎‧₊˚🎀𝒑𝒍𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒘𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒚𝒎𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒔 & 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒋𝒊𝒔 (𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔)🎀‎˚₊‧
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣦⣤⣴⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡠⠄⠤⡀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣾⣷⣶⠀⡿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣟⠪⢵⠶⠃⢠⣿⣿⣿⣋⢻⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢏⣙⣻⣀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣃⡀⠬⢿⣿⣯⠩⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⢯⠼⢻⣿⣿⣿⣇⣹⣽⣽⠏⣿⣿⣏⠹⣉⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⢭⣉⣀⣀⣈⣁⣩⠭⠭⢚⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠬⣉⣑⣛⣒⣒⡒⠮⣝⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⣻⣿⣟⣿⠶⣖⣒⣒⣒⡶⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢿⡇⢸⡿⣦⣀⣈⠀⠀⣀⣠⣼⢻⡟⣿⢻⣿⢻⡟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⡏⣼⣧⢸⣿⢹⣿⣿⣿⣹⣧⢻⣿⠘⣿⢻⣾⣿⣸⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡟⣴⣟⣈⣿⣿⡈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⢹⡇⣻⡟⣷⡙⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣸⠹⣿⡀⠛⢿⣦⢹⣿⡇⢿⣿⣿⣿⣽⡧⣾⣿⣿⠇⢸⡇⣿⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢋⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣼⡇⠀⠻⣷⣔⣺⣿⣟⣿⣿⠸⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⢹⡿⠃⠀⣼⠃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣍⡭⢟⣡⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠠⡏⢸⣷⣀⣴⣿⣿⠵⣶⣶⣞⣿⡆⢿⣿⠏⣾⠃⣿⠇⠀⢰⣿⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣥⣴⣧⣀⣄⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣀⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⡯⠼⠟⣒⣉⣉⣉⡺⢿⡄⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⢸⡼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⡆ ⠀⢹⣻⣻⣿⠋⠀⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣻⣭⣭⣭⣻⣦⣝⢾⣿⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⠾⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁ ⠀⣾⣯⣟⡟⢀⣠⠴⠃⢳⠒⠛⠙⡌⠛⢻⡟⠛⠛⣻⠦⣄⡙⠻⣽⡷⣭⣳⠟⠛⠛⠉⠉⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠓⠛⠉⠉⠁⠀ ⠀⠹⣏⡾⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠋⠁⠀⠘⠿⣶⣰⠙⠶⠬⠿⠦⢌⡛⠾⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠑⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡛⠛⠻⢟⣛⠛⠛⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣬⣉⣛⣿⣾⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠉⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⡿⠊⢡⠁⢠⠀⠈⣙⠷⣄⠐⠄⠀⠺⡆⠀⠀⠐⢦⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⡾⠁⡰⡇⡰⢸⣷⡀⡀⠳⡜⢷⡀⢦⠀⠘⣆⢄⠀⠀⢣⡀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣰⣿⣰⣿⣸⣇⣿⢿⡽⣮⣖⡸⢾⣷⢨⡷⡀⢸⣼⣆⢆⠀⢧⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣰⣧⡿⡽⣽⣻⢾⣻⣿⢻⡽⣯⣝⢯⣿⣾⢹⣻⣆⢿⣿⡸⢧⠸⡄⡆⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ 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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⣀⠼⢛⡛⠛⠻⢻⣿⣿⡿⡉⣾⠌⣷⡍⢢⠁⡆⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡦⣏⢷⣻⣿⣿⢸⡆⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠒⠉⣀⠤⠴⠒⠤⣤⣹⣿⣿⡇⣷⡘⢦⠹⡇⠦⣑⣦⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⡟⣿⣌⢿⣳⣿⣻⡼⢿⡀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣨⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠉⡉⢩⣤⣌⣉⡛⠻⠿⣿⠟⠛⡽⣭⢳⣗⠾⣷⣻⡝⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣝⣻⣯⢽⣻⣶⣯⡿⣿⠟⠋⠓⠛⠦⡀⢿⣇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⣀⣴⢾⣻⣿⣷⣮⣙⠿⣿⣿⡟⢁⡴⣞⡻⣜⡣⣟⣻⣶⣿⢿⣟⢯⢿⣿⣷⢻⣞⢻⣟⡻⢏⡷⢋⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡜⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣁⣤⡴⡾⣏⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣰⡻⣝⡜⣧⣷⣷⢿⡻⣝⢮⡳⢎⡯⢞⣿⣿⡳⣎⠷⣺⣽⠯⣖⡋⠀⣀⣴⡾⣟⢿⣳⡀⢳⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣯⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣿⣎⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢠⣿⣿⡾⣟⡿⠽⠮⢷⣹⢎⡳⣝⣣⢏⡿⣼⣿⣿⡼⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⣯⢳⡝⣮⢳⡭⣷⠘⡆⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣹⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡿⣜⢾⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠔⠛⠋⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣯⣵⠾⠓⠋⠉⠀⠘⣿⣆⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡿⡜⣧⢻⣜⡳⣝⠾⡇⣿⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⢋⣉⣤⣾⣿⣿⡖⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡳⣝⣻⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠄⠂⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⡠⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣽⣿⡀⠀⢸⣦⢶⡟⣿⡝⣮⢳⢮⡝⣾⡹⣿⣧⢳⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣾⣛⠿⣿⠋⣩⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⡽⣝⢾⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⣠⠎⠁⠀⠀⣀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠠⣸⣟⣮⣿⣿⡝⣶⢫⣖⢻⢶⡹⡝⣿⡭⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣃⠰⠶⠿⠯⢷⣩⢿⣉⠽⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⡽⣎⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠈⡴⠁⠀⠠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣀⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⡝⣮⢳⣎⡟⣮⡝⣿⣿⡷⣹⢹⣿⣿⣿⢁⢧⢧⢀⣤⣤⣤⣬⣵⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣝⣳⢾⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠠⢀⠀⠠⠁⠀⠐⣠⣾⠁⠠⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⡿⣽⣿⣿⣹⢎⡷⢮⣝⢶⡹⣿⢿⡿⡥⣿⣿⡿⠃⣼⢃⣼⢿⣽⣾⣶⣽⣮⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢯⣞⣽⢺⡞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣴⢦⣌⣴⣤⣷⡾⣟⣿⣠⢳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣯⣿⢷⣿⣿⣣⠿⣼⢳⣎⢯⣳⢻⡝⣿⡱⢧⡿⠁⡼⢡⣿⣹⣾⣿⣿⣿⣯⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⡿⣼⢞⡯⣷⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⡾⣽⣺⢧⣿⣽⣻⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣻⢏⢹⣯⢟⣮⠷⣎⢷⣳⢸⣛⠴⣹⠟⠀⠴⣵⣟⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠛⢲⡓⠚⠽⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⡽⣾⣹⡞⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣷⣯⣿⢛⡞⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣽⢟⡢⢹⣯⣟⢮⣛⡞⣧⢯⢼⡩⡾⠋⠀⣠⣾⣛⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠐⢠⠃⡘⠠⢁⠢⢹⠠⡉⠟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣻⣵⡳⣟⣵⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣬⡟⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⠏⡼⡁⢾⣟⡾⣭⣻⣜⣧⢻⡸⠊⠀⣠⣾⡟⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠄⢨⠁⠀⠐⠠⠀⢹⠀⠌⠢⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣷⣻⣼⣻⡽⣖⣯⣿⢾⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣵⢇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⢡⢊⡵⢃⢺⣿⣽⣳⢧⣟⠞⠁⠀⣠⢾⣟⣳⣻⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠂⠨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⠀⠀⠱⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣷⣻⣞⢷⣻⢾⣵⣿⣻⣾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡴⢉⠖⣜⢣⢚⣿⣞⣧⣿⡏⢀⣠⣾⣟⠿⣼⣳⢷⠿⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⣞⣯⢿⣽⣻⣞⠷⣡⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⡟⡔⢢⠉⡎⡜⡸⣬⣿⣻⣾⢳⣟⣿⣛⣧⣟⣻⣳⢯⣿⠀⢳⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠁⢨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⢯⣞⡿⣞⣷⡋⣴⢋⠒⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⡰⢅⠣⡘⡐⣇⠱⡇⣿⣯⣟⣯⣞⠾⣝⡾⣼⣳⢯⣿⠱⡷⡄⠹⡄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠂⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⢀⠡⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⢡⣵⢋⢌⣳⡍⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡽⣾⣧⡡⢫⠐⡡⡗⡇⢆⠹⡸⣿⣞⡷⣯⠿⣽⣽⣳⣯⢟⠶⣩⢳⡽⣆⠙⣆⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠂⢸⠀⠂⠐⡀⠁⠂⣁⠂⠄⢂⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣩⣿⡷⢊⣴⢇⡯⢽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣧⠱⢃⠔⣿⡣⢌⡑⡧⢻⣿⣽⣳⢿⣳⡿⢋⠍⡯⣞⠥⣻⣖⡻⣷⡜⣦⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢀⡹⣀⢁⠂⡄⠡⡁⢬⠐⡈⠤⣈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣵⣿⣱⢃⢎⢿⢒⠌⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡬⡘⣿⣷⠌⣆⢹⡊⠿⣾⣽⢟⡱⠆⣌⠪⢽⢺⡕⣣⡟⡼⢿⣷⣆⠳⡀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠤⠾⢤⢦⣬⣤⣅⣢⣸⣠⡑⠢⡔⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣿⣏⠞⣌⢞⣿⢸⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣏⣿⣜⢢⢳⠸⡌⣇⠺⣅⢚⢧⢳⡘⡘⣿⡜⡥⣿⣙⡞⣿⣿⣧⡙⠄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣀⣀⣀⣀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⢛⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⣿⣿⢫⠞⣜⣺⣿⡱⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣏⠖⣋⢷⣸⠳⡼⢊⡞⣸⣧⢱⢸⡟⡴⣳⢭⡞⣽⣟⣿⣿⣦⡈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡹⢮⠧⣽⣿⣱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡹⡜⣾⣜⣣⠽⡸⢼⣸⣿⡇⢾⣽⢒⡯⡧⣟⡼⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡱⣿⢩⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣧⢷⣯⢖⡧⣙⡦⣿⣿⣿⡸⢮⢣⣿⡱⣏⣞⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠟⠏⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣱⣿⣎⢳⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣜⣧⣛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⢧⢣⠽⣼⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⠵⣎⢷⡹⣼⣿⣾⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣯⣛⡞⠳⠚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡧⣼⣷⣧⢚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⡺⢶⡹⣞⡽⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡝⣎⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣾⣹⡝⣾⣱⣿⣾⣯⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣷⣿⣾⣶⣴⣬⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣖⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣳⡽⣏⢷⡹⣞⡽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣼⣿⢞⡽⣲⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣳⡽⣞⡭⢷⡹⣞⡵⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⢯⣻⣾⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡷⣳⣝⢮⡝⣧⢟⡼⣳⢭⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣹⢞⡷⣎⠿⣜⢧⡻⣜⢧⢯⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⡿⣿⠿⡿⡿⣿⠿⣿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣛⡾⣝⠾⣭⢻⡜⣧⢻⣜⢯⡳⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣧⣧⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢧⣻⡼⣛⢿⡸⣇⢿⡸⢧⣼⣛⣧⢿⣸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣽⡳⣧⢟⣭⡳⡝⣎⢾⣹⢳⡮⢷⣹⢮⢷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣟⡶⣏⡷⣫⠶⣝⠺⣜⢧⣏⡷⣛⡯⡷⣯⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣮⢷⣫⠷⣭⢻⡜⣳⡝⡾⣜⡷⣫⣽⣳⢯⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣵⣞⣳⣭⢻⡜⡧⢞⡵⣫⡽⢾⣹⢷⣳⢯⣟⡾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣛⣮⠷⣝⡞⣧⡛⣵⢫⢾⡵⣻⡽⡽⣾⣭⣟⡾⣽⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣽⣚⣿⡹⢾⣱⢻⡜⣯⣳⢻⣵⣻⡽⣶⣻⢾⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣽⡳⣟⣼⡻⣝⢮⣳⢻⣼⡳⣟⡾⣵⣻⣳⢯⣿⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⡾⣽⡽⢶⡻⣝⡮⣗⢿⣲⡟⣽⣞⢷⡯⣟⡿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⢯⣟⣾⣹⢯⣗⢯⣳⢯⢷⣛⣾⣳⢯⣟⡾⣽⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣻⠾⣵⢯⢷⡺⣏⡷⣯⣻⢽⡶⣯⣟⡾⣽⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡷⣯⢿⡽⣞⣯⣽⢻⣼⣳⢯⣟⣾⣳⢯⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⡽⣯⣟⡾⣽⠶⣏⡿⣞⣭⣟⣾⣳⢯⡿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣽⣳⣟⡾⣽⣻⡽⢯⡽⣾⡽⣾⣽⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣟⣾⣳⢯⡿⣵⢯⣻⢯⣟⣷⣻⢷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣞⡷⣯⣟⡷⣯⢿⣽⣻⣞⡷⣯⣿⣾⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⠷⠿⠶⠷⠾⠷⠿⠾⠿⠿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣯⣟⡷⣯⢿⣽⣻⣞⡷⣯⣟⣷⡿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣰⣦⣼⣦⣼⣶⣶⣽⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⣽⣶⣷⣼⣦⣷⣼⣶⣼⣦⣷⣾⣶⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣭⣷⣭⣶⣱⣬⣎⣙⣦⣿⣿⣿⣌⣓⣬⣱⣬⣦⣵⣬⣦⣵⣦⣴⣴⣶⣾⣶⣿⡷⣟⣾⣽⣻⣽⣻⣞⡷⣯⣟⡷⣿⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣉⣉⣩⣙⣉⣛⣙⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣋⣋⣍⣩⣉⠍⡰⢡⣂⣆⣒⣄⣢⣑⣌
Yall really out here fighting anywhere 😭💀.. , ╱|、 (˚ˎ 。7 |、˜〵 じしˍ,)ノ
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⡄⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠒⣭⡦⠶⣾⢶⣶⡦⡻⣿⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠄⢜⣱⣾⣵⡷⠀⣱⢓⣨⣿⣟⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣜⢿⣾⠀⢀⣇⣣⣧⡎⢻⣿⣦⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢧⡼⣉⡳⣼⢤⣤⣫⡇⣼⣿⣿⠢⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢚⡿⣿⡩⠃⠈⠀⠛⢫⣱⢹⣿⣿⠀⠠⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢾⢿⢸⢵⠀⠤⠤⠐⢋⠇⡞⢻⣿⡀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠏⢸⠋⡘⢸⢙⣲⡤⠒⡟⢿⡆⠈⢻⡇⡾⡷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⡰⣧⠖⢹⣑⣾⢾⣝⡯⢓⣤⣾⣷⡅⢡⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢫⢾⣏⣀⣼⣿⣕⣾⣿⣷⡿⠫⠀⠘⡞⠈⡀⠀⢠⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⠂⣼⣿⣿⡿⣺⣿⣿⡿⡟⠋⢀⡃⠀⢀⣼⡀⢧⠀⠀⠇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣓⡳⣾⠙⢏⠇⡟⠋⢹⣿⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠈⠛⣧⠸⡆⠀⢸⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣣⡋⠙⣿⠀⠀⡛⡀⠀⢸⠸⠀⠀⢸⣤⠶⠓⠛⠓⢦⢳⠀⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡳⢑⠇⠁⢻⡅⠀⡧⡃⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⣜⣠⠒⠊⢹⢋⡝⡈⣇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣴⡳⡡⠼⠀⠀⡼⠛⠐⠛⠃⠀⠙⠓⠂⠼⠀⢱⡆⠀⣈⣇⠀⠀⠸⣆⠀ ⠀⣠⣾⠷⢋⠔⠁⠀⡼⡳⣲⢋⡇⠀⠀⠸⠉⢣⠺⡦⡀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠑⠢⡐⡽⡄ ⢀⠟⢁⠠⠃⠀⢠⡮⡞⢩⠆⢴⠇⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⢣⠈⢽⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢥ ⠈⠻⣅⠀⠀⡰⠽⡞⢠⡟⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠈⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡈ ⠈⣢⣈⠳⡞⠀⠎⡠⡻⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠆⢰⠀⢀⣠⠴⠚⢋⡉⠀ ⠚⠐⢠⠏⠀⠀⡔⢡⠁⠀⢀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⣶⢋⠥⢖⡭⡄⠢⠀ ⠀⡴⠃⠀⡄⡜⠀⠇⠀⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⣘⢿⠀⠘⠙⢿⣿⠀ ⠴⣹⣤⣎⡘⠀⡘⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠤⢒⠃⢃⢠⡀⣢⢀⣽⣔ ⠀⣻⡫⡝⠉⡲⠁⠀⠀⠀⡧⢠⠀⠀⡀⠤⠔⠊⠉⡠⢖⠒⡎⣇⣧⣇⢻⢣⣯⣻
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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢋⣀⠀⣀⣶⡯⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣛⠟⣿⢿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠃⠀⠸⡿⠁⢁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡟⣟⣿⣿⣯⢘⠻⡍⢿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⠟⢛⡛⢶⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣹⣤⣀⣀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⠏⠐⢰⠀⠀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣿⣎⣼⣿⣫⣗⣄⣄⡜⡝⣧⡩⠃⡴⠁⣤⠃⡴⣫⣻⣇⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⣾⣿⣷⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢡⠤⣒⣀⣤⡼⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⢟⢶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣼⡝⡼⣧⠀⡇⠜⠁⡠⠘⠊⣸⡿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⡽⣡⡟⠁⢠⣿⣿⠟ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⠏⠀⠘⢜⣧⡊⠛⣛⣛⡺⢝⢿⠉⠈⠻⣼⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠻⠟⠹⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⠀⡟⡄⢸⣂⣤⣴⡿⠃⠠⣿⣿⣿⣫⣏⣾⠯⣰⣶⠿⠟⣃⠀ ⣿⣉⢿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣾⣁⠷⢘⡮⠞⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣹⡀⣇⣛⣷⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⣰⢋⡾⢁⣠⣼⣳⣾⣿⣃⣄ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠚⠜⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡿⣶⣁⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣣⣾⣾⢿⠟⣧⢿⣿⣼⡋⢉ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⣷⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⣳⣿⣻⣿⣍⣜⡋⢭⣿⣯⣦⠃ ⣿⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣶⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢻⣹⠇⣼⣿⠿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠾⠛⣛⣋⡛⢷⡄⢹⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⡱⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⡹⣄⣈⣿⢣⠞ ⠁⢀⣰⣤⣴⣶⡞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣿⣿⡆⠀⠰⣿⢿⣿⢿⡆⠈⠀⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠴⠿⠆⠀⡸⢱⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⠝⡁⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣻⣭⣼⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⠧⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⡾⠘⠉⠙⠻⠿⠀⠀⢀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠉⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠓⣾⢻⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣻⠟⡨⡦⣪⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣯⣿⣷⣿⠾⡿⠻⡏⠛⣤⢻⣄⡾⣽⣻⣿⣿⣷⢠⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣷⣶⣄⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢟⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⡸⠈⠻⡽⣿⠧⣌⣳⡾⡪⢫⣾⣷⠁⠀ ⠛⢿⣋⠧⢾⡠⠏⣹⣇⣻⣭⡈⣉⢧⣦⣷⣿⣿⡿⠛⡬⣳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⢯⣶⢷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠕⠵⡀⠀⢀⠃⢡⠃⠀⠀⠙⢛⣽⡒⣪⣪⢞⣱⣿⡯⠀⠀ ⡀⢎⣮⣃⣀⣧⢖⢺⣵⣾⣿⣿⣛⣿⡟⠉⣏⡹⢒⠵⣺⣛⣿⡴⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣍⡶⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠈⢣⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⢀⡺⢋⢽⡮⢊⣴⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⢠ ⢠⣼⣷⢻⣛⣿⡿⠿⢿⠛⣯⣭⠴⣟⣳⣊⣥⡴⠋⠀⢰⣷⣿⣥⣤⣾⣿⣿⠟⢋⢠⣤⡤⢌⠙⣿⡅⠘⢄⠀⠀⡀⠠⡀⠀⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡠⠟⡫⣐⡽⡽⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘ ⣷⣶⢻⣛⣿⣾⠾⠜⠚⠋⣉⡠⠦⠚⢊⢩⡾⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢧⡼⠟⣛⢛⡟⡓⡑⣽⣫⢧⣶⣰⣮⠃⠀⡈⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢊⠬⠋⢠⢫⡩⠶⣢⣄⡀⠀ ⠟⠙⠈⣉⣁⠤⠝⠓⠊⣉⡠⠤⠐⠈⢡⠃⡇⡁⡀⠰⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣾⣚⣼⡖⡬⡿⣳⢽⡻⣿⣿⡿⡈⡄⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢧⡻⣿⣿⠸⢶ ⠀⠈⣉⣁⠤⠄⣒⡪⠭⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⣷⣷⢄⣀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡯⣳⣮⣇⣽⡝⣿⣿⡭⡇⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡄⠙⠶⣏⣤⣚ ⠀⠀⠒⠒⣉⡉⠤⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣷⣳⣷⣴⣟⣿⣿⣯⣆⢠⣼⠃⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠉⠭⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡿⠋⢀⡴⡎⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢄⡀⠀⠀⢰⡶⠀⠀⠀ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣴⠶⡏⡇⢱⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢽⢶⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⢹⢸⠈⡆⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡵⡕⢄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣷⣦⣦⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⡇⢱⣱⣤⣤⣶⣶⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠸⠈⢢⠱⣄⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣷⠀⠈⠍⣹⣿⣇⡈⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⣷⣿⣿⣿⣟⢏⠻⣿⣻⣿⣟⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀ ⣤⣀⣾⣧⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡇⠁⠋⠛⢿⣿⠇⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣻⣻⣿⣿⣿⣾⡻⣳⣾⣿⣾⡿⡸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡧⠀⠸⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡜⠻⣀⣿⠟⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⣞⢿⡿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠗⣡⣯⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⢛⢯⢶⣮⣿⢵⣿⣕⣷⣟⣿⢷⣟⣷⡦⣈⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣷⣦⣌⢻⣿⣞⣽⢿⡾⠯⣎⣋⣤⣺⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡆⡠⢞⣍⣶⢟⣿⣿⣖⡿⣿⡇⡿⣳⢷⣺⣯⡩⣯⢣⠀⠀⠀⠈⠈⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣆⠄⡀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣏⡟⢿⠯⣽⣿⠷⠚⠛⠁⢺⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⢎⣰⣿⣛⣷⣽⣿⣿⣿⣯⡟⢋⡻⢅⣶⢛⣷⣟⢺⣇⢱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣖⣰⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠘⡆⣿⣿⣷⡀⢱⣄⠈⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⡏⣾⣽⣿⣿⣭⣿⣿⣷⡯⢻⡝⣲⣿⣶⣿⣿⣟⣻⣷⠇⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⠀⡇⡏⣿⣿⣿⡄⠿⠇⢸⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⡇⡿⣿⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⢰⣿⣽⣽⣟⣝⡿⢁⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠙⠛⠿⠏⠀⠸⣏⡇⢸⢹⠘⣿⣿⣷⡀⣀⣈⣿⣿⣧⠀⢰⡆ ⣿⣿⣿⡈⢫⣻⣿⣽⣿⡿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣽⣾⣻⣷⡿⠋⣠⠎⡝⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢇⢸⣸⡄⠈⢿⣿⣷⡙⢻⣿⣿⣿⡆⣿⢳ ⣿⣿⣿⣷⣕⣜⣷⠫⢧⠦⣞⡵⣶⢞⣫⡶⢿⡛⢉⣠⣴⣿⠚⠀⠀⠀⢀⢀⠀⢸⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣻⠘⡏⣿⣦⠀⠙⣿⣧⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾
why are people calling Hatsune Miku ( and other vocaloids ) AI??? 🤦 LIKE, THEY DONT MAKE THE SONGS. Vocaloid producers make the songs, vocaloids are just the voices/instruments. No hate to the actual vocaloids tho. A vocaloid is basically an instrument, just with a mascot/character associated with it. WAKE UP PEOPLE!!! 🔄 please repost!!!
୨୧ ᡣ𐭩 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ PLZ go visit my friend pinterest : Yorii_Natsuki and follow her PLZ -`♡´-
(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)(╥﹏╥)(ㅅ´ ˘ `)(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡(ᵕ—ᴗ—)
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
be my pookie quiz!!! Remember if u got more left or right!!! Cat or dog? cat - dog which of these are ur fav? horror - comedy what are you? pessimist - optimist how loud are you? quiet - loud creepy or cute? kowai - kawaii game? real life gamez - board gamez better game? pokémon - omori tone? serious - alwayz joking fav colorz? Dark - light do u play roblox? no - yes how old are you? over 15 - under 16 results: mostly left: Naw 😔 ur not a bad person tho mostly right: BMF PLS TEXT @Number0neMikuFan on roblox :3333 make sure to put the one as zero
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what r yall yapping up lmao 💀
[SPREAD THE WORD] Y’all trying to protect kids when they are most likely the ones submitting these immature emoji combos. You really think an adult is on this site and doing this? Like wtf
can you join bloxd.io lobby peaceful 1234 and play with me? i'm in the_cat_man group. my username is somerandom_player. plz don't report me or anything. can you play bloxd lobby peaceful 1234 with me? date: 2024 cubeiscool friend btw bloxd.io
👩🏻‍🦲✨🙄💅✨𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 👑˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆
I literally hate short guys, they're so rude and disrespectful, like bruv... Getting mad at me won't make you taller. They always act so angsty too, like calm down Edna, we all know you have a small d**k you don't have to yell. Over here looking like something that came out a slow cooker... seriously...(⊙_⊙) ̤̮
VoiceOver #1. EaseUS VoiceOver 💲Price: Free ⭐Rating: No, as it is newly released Easeu VoiceOver is an online free voice-over generator that can convert your written text to realistic AI voice with more than 140 languages or dialects and over 400 voices. Powered by AI, it generates a speech in a few seconds. After that, it allows you to finetune the speech, including adjusting tone, speaking speed, intonation, or adding pauses. As of now, there is no already-made anime character voice model available. However, you can choose the model with the closest sound to imitate Plankton's voice. Besides voice generation, EaseUS VoiceOver stocks some royalty-free images, video clips, and background music to help your creation. After generation, you can download your text-to-speech to MP3, WAV, FLAC, and export subtitles in SRT, DOCX, or TXT. 🌟Key Features of EaseUS VoiceOver: No signup and login are required. Support more than 450 voices in over 140 languages. Powered by AI, bring content to life in seconds. Allow to fine-tune the generated speech.
Hi👋
WHERES THE BEEF BRU AM I THE ONLY ONE NOT SEEING IT .. 💀💀🙏
hi👋✋😃(„• ֊ •„)੭🎮
➜ . 𖥔 ݁ ˖ + Welcome ! ᐢᗜᐢ I am actually so fucking done with you guys shitting about uncensored nsfw on the website. I have literally seen more of this weird stop posting literal symbol porn on the website rather than actual nsfw itself. I'm pretty sure that shit only comes up when you search for it well enough so please. Stop. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

Omg can someone revive the drama? - R
Jodi ☣️ Please
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ʜᴇʟʟᴏ! ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴘᴜᴛ ɪɴᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴘʀɪᴀᴛᴇ sᴛᴜғғ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ ᴋɪᴅs ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴋᴀᴏᴍᴏᴊɪ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ɴɪᴄᴇ ɪғ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀ sᴀғᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.
Please stop posting inappropriate content on here. I 100% agree with those who are spreading awareness and saying that there are YOUNG KIDS WHO DON'T NEED TO SEE DISGUSTING THINGS on this platform, but that goes to them too. MANY, years ago, I WAS LITERALLY ONE OF THOSE KIDS, THINKING THAT THE CREEPY DOTARTS AND EMOJIS WERE "COOL", AND I GOT IN TROUBLE FOR USING ONE ON A SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT. In their statement they use explicit language, or swearing. I KNOW THAT THERE ARE SOME OTHER KIDS WHO KNOW EXPICIT CONTENT LIKE THESE AND ARE PURPOSELY ADDING THEM (not gonna name names due to privacy.) If you’re trying to help children avoid content for adults, please don't use explicit language. COPY AND PASTE THIS AND PUBLISH THIS MESSAGE AND ADD OTHER TAGS ONTO IT SO OTHER VIEWERS CAN SPREAD THE WORD!! this message was originally published on 2/12/24 by @sky4one
🦢🕊️🐇🐚☁️🍥🩰💌 🕊🐚🕯️ ☁️ 🏹🥛✉️🦢 join my server!! open partnerships and staff!! cottagecore frogcore aesthetic system and lgbtqia+ friendly https://discord.gg/yheR94pgvJ
🍃🍵🧝‍♀️🍒 🍯🍮🌿🎍 🪽🐚☘️🪲 🐥🌺💐🌷 🌥️☀️🫧🍉 🥨🧺🎧🥮 join my server!! open partnerships and staff!! cottagecore frogcore aesthetic system and lgbtqia+ friendly https://discord.gg/yheR94pgvJ
𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓸 ❤️
why are you guys even beefing, and the fact its on a website, website. You dont need to fucking argue if the people here wont even care about what you guys r saying, yes i recommend stopping the beef but most of the time people here are kids, and they are not likely to listen to you so theres no point of arguing 😭😭
♡ ∩_∩ („• ֊ •„)♡ | ̄U U ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄| |https://discord.gg/2a8tZr233H | pls join i waana reach 100 members- (im desperate)
😕👩‍🚀
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can you join bloxd.io lobby peaceful 1234 and play with me? i'm in the_cat_man group. my username is somerandom_player. plz don't report me or anything. can you play bloxd lobby peaceful 1234 with me?
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Guys can we shut up i just wanna look at cute symbols plz 🙁
🙇manichu🙇
ok tbf I have seen some nsfw on here and yeah kids are on here but they've seen worse on tv cmon guys 💀
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

https://perchance.org/ai-story-generator
James Potter was a peculiar boy with a head of unruly black hair and eyes so bright they could outshine the stars. He had a knack for turning the most mundane moments into grand adventures. Whether it was climbing the tallest tree in the schoolyard or racing his friends across the Quidditch pitch, his imagination knew no bounds. But even in the whirlwind of his escapades, there was one person who remained steadfastly out of reach: Lily Evans. Lily was unlike anyone James had ever met. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to her soft, porcelain skin, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of intelligence and mischief. She was as fierce as a lioness and as graceful as a swan. Her laugh was like a melody that could charm the sternest of hearts, and it was a sound that James longed to hear directed at him. However, she had a tendency to dismiss his efforts with a roll of her eyes and a smirk that suggested she saw right through his bravado. Severus Snape, on the other hand, was a solitary figure. He lurked in the shadows of the school corridors, his eyes darting like a snake's as he took in every detail. His black hair was always impeccably combed and his robes pristine, as if he had just stepped out of a dark wardrobe. Severus was a prodigy in the art of potions, his talents often overlooked due to his cold demeanor. Yet, beneath the surface, there was something about him that drew James in. Perhaps it was the hint of vulnerability that occasionally flickered across his face, or the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about the most obscure magical herbs. The two boys moved in different circles, but they had one thing in common: a deep admiration for Lily. They watched her from afar, each imagining what it would be like to be the one to make her laugh genuinely or to capture her heart. But as the school year rolled on, their paths began to intertwine in ways they could never have anticipated. It was as if fate had a twisted sense of humor, throwing them together in situations that neither could escape. And as they found themselves drawn closer to Lily, a silent rivalry began to brew between them, a dance of longing glances and unspoken words. James, ever the charmer, tried to win Lily over with his flashy Quidditch moves and cheeky grins. But Lily, ever the enigma, remained unimpressed. In his frustration, James took to teasing Severus, using his popularity to make the other boy's life bad. He'd steal his books, trip him in the halls, and whisper snide comments. One rainy afternoon, as the school was dismissed for the day, James caught Severus crossing the crowded courtyard. He saw his chance and sneered, "Hey, Snapes, where's your broomstick?" His friends snickered, and Severus tensed, his eyes narrowing. Without waiting for a response, James conjured a water spray that drenched Severus' already soggy robes. The laughter grew louder as Severus stumbled away, the weight of his sodden clothes dragging him down. In the Great Hall, James watched as Severus sat alone at the Slytherin table, his shoulders hunched over a book. He whispered to his friends, "Look at the lonely little snake," and they all burst into laughter again. Severus glanced up, his gaze sharp and piercing, but James felt no remorse. In fact, he felt a strange thrill, as if he was in control of something he never had been before. The power of ridicule was potent, and he wielded it with the same ease he did his wand. Days turned into weeks, and James' pranks grew bolder. He'd jinx Severus' shoelaces to trip him up in the halls, replace his potion ingredients with foul-smelling dungbombs, and even cast a spell to make his robes shrink in the middle of class. Each time, Severus took the humiliation in silence, his eyes burning with a quiet anger that James found both fascinating and thrilling. It was a twisted game, but one James was determined to win. But the more James bullied, the more he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. It wasn't just guilt; it was something else. He noticed the way Severus' hands trembled as he poured potions, the way his voice grew softer in the face of his tormentors. And every time Lily saw what was happening, she'd give James a look that made him feel smaller than a house elf. He knew he was losing her respect, but he couldn't stop. It was as if he was under a compulsion to push Severus away from her, to prove to himself that he was the one she truly desired. One day, James' antics reached a new low. He'd convinced a group of his friends to help him pull a prank so elaborate, it was sure to leave Severus humiliated beyond repair. They waited in the shadows of the deserted library, setting up a series of traps that would culminate in a grand finale of slime and laughter. But as Severus approached, his head buried in a dusty tome, James felt a strange tug at his heart. He watched as the other boy stepped onto the first trap, a levitating book that smacked him in the face. The laughter of his friends seemed to echo hollowly in the vast room. Severus stumbled back, dropping his book into the puddle of ink that had appeared under his feet. He looked up, his eyes meeting James' for a brief moment. In that instant, James saw something he hadn't noticed before: a deep sadness that mirrored his own. It was as if the layers of bravado and spite had been peeled away, revealing a soul just as lost and lonely as his. The laughter died in his throat, and for a moment, James felt a flicker of empathy. But the moment was fleeting. His friends were still snickering, and Lily was watching from across the room, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. He knew he had to go through with it. The second trap was triggered, and a cascade of glittering confetti showered Severus, sticking to his damp robes like glittering scales. The Slytherin students looked on with a mix of amusement and contempt, and James felt his heart sink. He'd gone too far. As the last echo of laughter faded away, Severus slowly picked himself up, his eyes never leaving James. He wiped the ink from his face and took a step towards him, his fists clenched at his sides. "Is this what you call fun, Potter?" he spat, his voice low and dangerous. James took a step back, his bravado momentarily forgotten. He hadn't anticipated this. "It was just a joke, Snapes," James said weakly, his smile slipping. Severus took another step closer, his eyes blazing. "Is it a joke to you, to watch someone else's pain?" James's heart hammered in his chest as he searched for the right words, but his usual quips eluded him. The realization of what he'd done washed over him like a cold shower. He'd gone too far, and he couldn't take it back.
In the quaint town lived a young woman named Charlotte Watsford. Her days were filled with the quiet rhythms of the local library, where she worked meticulously cataloging books that had seen more years than she had. Charlotte had an unassuming beauty, with her auburn hair pinned back. Her smile was gentle, and it had the power to make even the sternest of patrons feel at ease. Beneath the veneer of the town, there was a world of magic, ancient and unseen. It was here that Charlotte's life took an unexpected turn when she met Cleo Sertori, a young woman with secrets as deep as the ocean. Cleo was a mermaid, a guardian of the sea, blessed with the ability to manipulate water and heal the creatures that dwelled within it. The revelation was as shocking as it was fascinating. Yet, with this gift came great responsibility, and Charlotte found herself torn between the life she knew and the allure of the vast, unexplored waters that called to her soul. One moonlit night, while the town slept peacefully, Charlotte felt an eerie emptiness within her. The gentle whispers of the sea that had once resonated in her heart were now silent. Panic set in as she realized her mermaid tail, a symbol of her newfound identity, had withered away, leaving her with the legs of a human once more. The loss of her powers weighed heavily on her, a sudden and profound absence that seemed to dull the vibrant colors of the world around her. Her heart pounded as she approached the edge. The ocean below was a restless canvas of inky blues and greys, a stark contrast to the serene waters that had cradled her during her time as a mermaid. The salt air kissed her cheeks, carrying with it a bittersweet reminder of the freedom she had left behind. Lewis, her devoted best friend, stood beside her, his eyes filled concern and curiosity. With trembling hands, Charlotte reached to Cleo's necklace. It was a talisman of her friendship with the mermaid, a bond that transcended the boundaries of land and sea. "I have to return this to her," she murmured, the weight of her decision etched into every syllable. With a heavy heart, Charlotte unclasped the necklace.
"You can totally sit with us," said a voice that seemed to shimmer with the promise of friendship. Cady Heron looked up from her lunch tray, blinking in surprise. The speaker was a girl with a smile so wide it could swallow her whole, her blonde hair glossy and her teeth as bright as the fluorescent lights above. The words hung in the air, tantalizing and slightly intimidating. This was Regina George, the queen bee of High School. Cady had heard the whispers, the stories that painted her as both an angel and a demon. She was the center of the school's social universe, and everyone else was just a planet orbiting around her. Cady felt a swell of excitement. She had been a fish out of water since moving from Africa to the suburbs of Chicago. The simple act of being acknowledged by the most popular girl in school was a beacon of hope in a sea of unfamiliar faces and cliques. She took a tentative step forward, her heart racing. "Thanks," Cady managed to murmur, setting her tray down at the table. The cafeteria buzzed with whispers as the group of pretty, popular girls made room for her. They were known as the Plastics, a name that Cady had learned from her newfound friend Janis Ian. These girls were the epitome of high school royalty, and now she was about to become one of them.
"Come on, it'll be fun," Enid begged, her eyes wide with excitement. Wednesday sat quietly in the corner of the room, her black dress blending into the shadows. She didn't look up from her book, her finger marking her place. "I don't think so," she said, her voice calm and measured. Enid pouted, her cheerleader's spirit momentarily dampened. "But it's the prom dance, Wednesday. Everyone's going to be there!" Wednesday closed her book with a soft thud and looked up, her gaze piercing through Enid's hopeful facade. "I see your enthusiasm, but crowded social gatherings are not my idea of fun." Enid sighed, understanding that pushing the issue would lead nowhere. She sat down next to her friend, her own excitement dimming. "I know, I know. But it's our senior year. It's like, a rite of passage or something." Wednesday's eyes remained on the closed book in her lap. "I'd prefer to pass on that particular rite." Enid leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially, "But it's the perfect place to observe human behavior. Think of it as an anthropological study." Wednesday's eyes lit up slightly at the thought. "I suppose you have a point," she conceded. "But I'll need to establish some ground rules." Enid clapped her hands together. "Of course! What do you need?" Wednesday thought for a moment before listing her conditions. "First, no slow dancing. Second, I control the music playlist. Third, I wear what I want." Enid nodded eagerly. "Deal! I'll handle the first two. And as for the third, I trust your impeccable taste." Wednesday raised an eyebrow. "My taste is not up for debate, nor is it the issue. It's the school's dress code that requires negotiation." Enid's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Leave that to me," she said, already texting away on her phone. Within minutes, she had secured a meeting with the principal to discuss "alternative fashion choices" for the prom. As the big night approached, Enid sent Wednesday a playlist of dark, rhythmic tunes that she had carefully curated. Each song was a masterpiece of gothic rock, a genre that she knew would resonate with her friend's soul. Meanwhile, Wednesday had been busy designing the perfect dress —a long, flowing gown of midnight black with intricate white lace that looked like it had been plucked from a Victorian mourning ceremony. She had paired it with her favorite black boots and a choker necklace adorned with a single crimson rose. The day of the prom, Enid couldn't contain her excitement. She bustled into the room, her own outfit a vibrant mix of neon colors that seemed to glow in the dim light of the Addams' mansion. "Wednesday, you have to come see this!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying the urgency of a child who had just discovered a secret treasure. Wednesday set down her scalpel, which she had been using to dissect a particularly interesting spider, and followed Enid upstairs. The dress laid out on her bed was indeed a sight to behold. It was a macabre symphony of black taffeta and delicate lace, the skirt adorned with a pattern of thorny vines that looked like they could draw blood with a single brush. The bodice hugged her slender frame, the neckline plunging just low enough to hint at the darkness beneath. "It's... " she began, searching for the right word. "Awful," Enid offered, her tone teasing. Wednesday smirked. "Perfect," she corrected, her voice laden with approval. "It's perfect."
Plankton lay on the makeshift bed of crumpled newspaper, his body contorted into an uncomfortable knot. "I can't get to sleep, Eugene." Krabs sighed. "Why not?" "To hard," Plankton complained. Krabs looked over. "Maybe you need something to relax," he suggested. Plankton nodded, hopeful. "Like what?" Krabs considered for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "How about a bed time story?" "A what?" Plankton's voice was filled with skepticism. "You know, something to lull you to sleep." Plankton's expression softened. "Alright, Krabs, hit me with your best shot." Eugene cleared his throat and began his tale. "Once upon a time, in the vast expanse of the sea, there was a tiny plankton named Planky..." Plankton's eye widened for a moment, but the gentle rhythm of Krabs' voice soon began to work its magic. The crab's words painted a picture of a serene under water world, where the currents were soft whispers and the bioluminescent creatures danced a silent ballet. Plankton's eye grew heavier with each sentence, his body slowly unfurling from its tense state. "Planky," Eugene continued, "was a curious little fellow who loved nothing more than to drift through the sea, discovering its many secrets." His voice took on a soothing quality, each word carefully measured to match the steady rise and fall of the ocean outside their abode. "One night," Krabs went on, "as the moon cast its silver glow through the water, Planky stumbled upon a hidden lagoon. It was a place where the jelly fish swam in lazy circles, their soft bodies pulsing to an ancient lullaby that only the deep-sea creatures knew." Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, the image of the tranquil lagoon filling his mind. "In the center of this secret place," Krabs whispered, "was a giant clam, its shell open just enough to reveal a soft, inviting cushion of algae. Planky couldn't resist the urge to rest his tiny body upon it." Plankton's breathing grew deeper. He could almost feel the gentle sway of the clam's soft inner lining beneath him, the coolness of the water surrounding him, and the hypnotic pull of the moon's glow. Krabs noticed the change in his friend's demeanor and continued the story with renewed enthusiasm. "As Planky lay on the clam's cushion, the jellyfish grew closer, their ethereal lights creating a dazzling display of color that danced in time with the whispers of the water. They sang to him, their melodies echoing through the quiet night." The room grew quieter, save for the sound of the waves outside and Krabs' steady voice. Plankton's eye closed fully, his breathing syncing with the rhythm of the story. The crab went on, "Their song was one of peace and tranquility, of a world where worries were as fleeting as the bubbles that floated to the surface. Planky felt his troubles melt away, replaced by the warm embrace of the sea." Then, amidst the serene imagery, the first faint sound of a snore escaped Plankton. It was a sound so small and delicate that it could have easily been mistaken. Krabs smirked to himself. It's working. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "As the jellyfish serenaded him, Planky felt his eyes grow heavier and heavier, until they could no longer stay open. The lagoon's secrets grew dimmer, the colors of the jellyfish fading into a soft, comforting darkness." The snores grew progressively, more regular. Krabs took a moment to appreciate his own cleverness before continuing the tale. "The sea creatures of the night, noticing Planky's peaceful slumber, decided to join him. They formed a living blanket of fish and algae, wrapping him in their gentle embrace, ensuring his sleep would be uninterrupted." Plankton's body grew slack, the tension in his muscles seeping away as he descended deeper into the realm of sleep. His snores grew more rhythmic. The light from the moon had been absorbed into his dreams, guiding him through a world of peace and contentment. Krabs watched his friend's sleeping form, noticing the way the shadows played across his tiny frame, Plankton's antennae twitching ever so slightly with every snore, mouth slightly open as he inhaled and then to let out the soft, rumbling sounds. The sight was peculiar, yet endearing in its own peculiar way. He had never seen Plankton so relaxed, so free. The crab felt a strange sense of accomplishment and allowed himself a brief moment of pride before remembering his own exhaustion. "Now, Sheldon," Eugene murmured, "Let your mind rest, and tomorrow we'll tackle the world anew."
Her strongest memory was of the smell of rain on hot pavement. It was a scent that didn't just fill her nose but seemed to soak into her skin, bringing with it a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in a very long time. Bluey Heeler was a creature of the outdoors, a dog with a heart that pounded in sync with the vast wilderness she called home. Her fur, a blend of blue and gray, blended seamlessly with the shadows of the eucalyptus trees that stretched tall beside her family's modest house. Rainy days meant puddles to splash in and the rich scent of earth coming alive around her. But it had been a long time since she'd felt the cool kiss of rainwater on her snout. Now, Bluey was in the city, surrounded by the concrete jungle, a stark contrast to the boundless plains she'd once known. The smells here were overwhelming, a mishmash of exhaust fumes, fast food, and a million different creatures packed into a space so tight it made her feel claustrophobic. The noises were constant, a never-ending din that made her flinch and whine in the quiet moments of the night. Yet, amidst the chaos, she had found a purpose, a reason to push through the fear and confusion. Her new friend, named Mia, had taken her in, offering her a chance at a new life filled with love and companionship. Mia was as vibrant as the flowers she tended in the small patch of earth outside their apartment. Despite the stark difference in their sizes, they shared a bond that transcended the confines of the urban sprawl. Each day, Mia would take her on adventures through the parks, allowing her to feel the grass under her paws and chase the occasional squirrel up a tree. It wasn't the same as the open ranges she'd left behind, but it was a taste of freedom she hadn't known in weeks. One evening, as the two sat on the windowsill watching the rain dance in the streetlights, a distant howl echoed through the concrete valleys. It was faint, almost lost in the symphony of city sounds, but to Bluey, it was as clear as if it had come from right beside her. Her ears perked up, and she let out a soft whine, longing for the days when she could have joined the chorus. Mia looked at her, concern etched on her features. "What is it, girl?" she asked, her tail thumping against the sill as she tried to convey the ache in her soul. The howl grew stronger, more insistent, and suddenly, Bluey realized it wasn't just any howl. It was her sister, Bingo. The same melody that had serenaded their nights back home, now calling to her from across the miles. Bingo's howl was a beacon, a thread of their shared past that had somehow found its way to her here in the city. Mia's eyes widened as she saw the recognition in Bluey's eyes. "Is that...?" she began, but the question was unnecessary. Bingo came in. Without a second thought, Bluey leaped. She didn't care about the water soaking her fur or the cold seeping into her bones. All that mattered was finding Bingo. The city streets were a labyrinth of wet reflections, the neon lights playing tricks on her eyes as she sprinted through the rain. The scent grew stronger with every bound, her nose leading her through alleys and across busy roads, dodging puddles that mirrored the chaos above. Mia, soaked and panting, struggled to keep up. Then, a shadow moving swiftly in the rain. Bluey's heart leaped. That was Bingo! She picked up the pace, her paws barely touching the ground. The howl grew closer, turning into a series of excited barks as the two sisters rounded a corner and locked eyes. Bingo's tail wagged a mile a minute, and she barrels towards Bluey, knocking her over in a joyous reunion of wet dog and muddy paws. They rolled together, the sound of their laughter piercing the rain-soaked silence. Mia skidded to a stop, panting and smiling through the downpour. She watched as the two sisters played, their tails creating a whirlwind of joy in the dim streetlight. The sight was enough to warm her to the core, making the dampness of her fur coat feel like a small price to pay for this moment. "Bingo," she called out, her voice a mix of happiness and relief. "You found her, Bluey!"
He felt his eyelid grow heavy to anesthesia. "Alright, Mr. Plankton, you're gonna start feeling sleepy," the doctor's voice echoed. The world around him grew fuzzy, sounds becoming muffled and indistinct. His head lolled, body slack. The nurse's grew blurry, darkness before not even nothingness. Karen, his wife, sat by him. Finally, the doctor stepped back, turned and gave her a thumbs up. The nurse began to clean Plankton's face, wiping away the excess saliva and bleeding with gentle touch. Karen follows as they wheel him out. His bed was pushed into a small cubicle, his breathing slow and even. In stumbled SpongeBob. Karen smiles. "The surgery went well, he's just sleeping it off," she assured. SpongeBob's taking in the beeping monitors. "What's all this for?" he asks, curiosity piqued. "To make sure he's ok while he's asleep," Karen explained. "The doctor said he'd be out for a little while." The yellow sponge nodded, his gaze lingering on the small wads of gauze peeking out from the sides of Plankton's mouth. "What's that?" he asks. "It's to help absorb.." Sponge Bob took in the sight of Plankton, who had begun to drool slightly onto the pillow beneath his head. The saliva pooled. "Oh no, Plankton. You're drooling!" Sponge Bob watched as drool continued to form like a thin string connecting Plankton's mouth to the pillow. Karen chuckled softly. "It's normal, Sponge Bob. He won't feel it as he's asleep." SpongeBob nodded, but curiosity remained. "Can I... I mean, should I... wipe it up?" he asks. Karen laughs. "It's ok, they'd take care of it. Just let him rest." "I promise to be super gentle" Karen nodded, a small smile playing. "Alright. Just be careful." His movements were deliberate, eyes never leaving Plankton's mouth as he approached. The drool strand grew longer, a tiny bridge between his friend and the pillow. The droplet fell away, landing on the pillow with a soft splat. Plankton stirred slightly but didn't wake. "It's fine. He's going to be a bit out of it when he wakes up anyway. Why don't you try talking to him while we wait for him to wake? It might help him feel more at ease." "Hey it's Sponge Bob. You're ok, just having a little nap. No Krabby Patties to steal right now," he added with a chuckle. Plankton's eye began to flutter, a sure sign that he was slowly coming back to consciousness. His body twitched, the anesthesia wearing off. "Looks like he's waking up," she said. Karen leaned closer, her hand reaching out to gently squeeze his. "Honey, it's me," she whispered. "You're ok." Plankton's unfocused and glazed. "Where... what... happened?" he mumbled. "You had wisdom teeth removed. You're in recovery," she said, voice soothing. Plankton blinked. "Wis...wis...what?" "You had a little...uh...dental appointment," SpongeBob said. "Teeth...gone?" he mumbled, still groggy. "You're fine," she assured. "I feel... funny," he giggled, voice silly. "Just relax, Plankton," Karen said. "But...but I wanna...see!" Plankton protested, arms flailing weakly. "Plankton, you need rest." "But I'm not tired!" he exclaimed, as his head lolled back onto the pillow. "I... I want to dance," he said, voice still slurred, which only resulted in more drool escaping. "First, you gotta get better," she said, voice earnest. Plankton's giggles grew, his eye half-closed. "But I'm already the best... at... at... at... " he mumbled, trailing off. "It's anesthesia," the nurse chimed in. "It can make people say some funny things. You're just feeling a bit loopy, Plankton. You'll be back to your usual self soon." Plankton's giggles grew softer, his eye struggling to stay open. "But... but... I'm not tired," he protested weakly, his voice a mere whisper. His eyelid began to droop once more. Sponge Bob leaned in. "You just had surgery, Plankton. You need to rest," he said firmly. Plankton's giggles turned into snores, his tiny body giving in despite his protests. "He's going to be out for a while," the nurse said. "Anesthesia can take time to wear off completely." Karen nodded, watching his chest rise and fall with each snore. Sponge Bob reached out and lightly patted Plankton's arm. Plankton's snores grew quieter and stirred, eye cracking. "Wha... SpongeBob?" he mumbled, groggy. Sponge Bob's heart swelled at the sight of his confused expression. "Just keeping you company as you wake." Plankton's eye rolled to the side. "Wha... what are you doing?" he slurred, his voice barely above a whisper. He tried to lift his hand to his mouth, but it flopped back down onto the bed with a limp thud. "Drool? I...I can't stop," he mumbled, his drool pooling around the fresh gauze. Sponge Bob chuckles. "It's ok, Plankton," he said. Plankton's eye narrows. "Not funny," he mumbled, words barely intelligible. Yet as he said it, another string of drool began to form, stretching from his mouth to the pillow. Sponge Bob's chuckles grew. "I know, I know. It's just... you're so... so... " he couldn't find words, laughter took over. Plankton's unable to control his drool. "I'm so...so...so..." he tried to form a coherent thought. "So what, Plankton?" "I'm...I'm not...not...drooling," he managed to say, words barely coherent. But even as he spoke, a new droplet formed at the corner of his mouth. "You sure?" "St...stop," Plankton managed to mumble, his mouth open and drooling again. "It's...it's...embarrassing." Sponge Bob smiled. "I know, you're ok. The surgery went well," he said. "Alright, we can get him ready to go home now," says nurse. They carefully lift Plankton from the bed, body still limp from the anesthesia. "You ok?" "Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, head lolling to one side. He struggled to keep his eye open, but the medication was too strong. Plankton's eye drooped shut once more, his snores echoing through the hall. "Whoa, there he goes again…" "He's still pretty out of it," she said. Plankton's head lolled to the side, his mouth hanging open. "Whoa, Plankton, wake up," Sponge Bob said, gently shaking his shoulder. "Mmph," Plankton mumbled, his eye cracking open. "Where...are we?" "Almost to the car," Karen said. "Just a bit longer." But Plankton's eyelid grew heavier. The nurse disappeared through the doors, leaving Karen and Sponge Bob to maneuver Plankton into a more upright position. His head kept flopping to one side, his snores grew louder. "Come on, Plankton, stay with us," Karen urged. Sponge Bob leaned close. "You ok?" he asked, patting Plankton's shoulder. Plankton's head lolled to the side, eye half- open. "Mmph...tired," he mumbled. Karen managed to get him in, his body collapsing into the seat like a ragdoll. She buckled him in. "You're gonna be ok," she whispered. Sponge Bob climbed into the backseat. Karen started the engine. "Let's get him home." The car ride was a blur of Plankton's snores and occasional mumble. Sponge Bob sat in the back, his hand on Plankton's shoulder, keeping his friend from lolling too far to the side. Each time Plankton nodded off, his mouth would droop, and gauze would slip out. "Plankton, gotta keep it in." Plankton mumbled something incoherent, his mouth still open and drooling. Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his hand ready to catch the gauze if it fell out again. Plankton's eye fluttered open, looking around the car. "Just stay with us, ok?" Sponge Bob nodded, hand on Plankton's shoulder. He watched as Plankton's eye drooped, the gauze slipping again. He leaned over and gently pushed it back. "We're almost there." Karen chuckled from the driver's seat. Sponge Bob’s grip on Plankton's shoulder tightening slightly. "Want to play a game?" "Mmph...game?" he mumbled. "I spy with my little eye, something..." But Plankton's head had already dropped back, snores echoing. Karen glanced in the mirror. "I think he's out for the count," she said. Sponge Bob was still vigilant, making sure Plankton didn't tumble out of the car. With Karen's help, they managed to get him to the couch. Sponge Bob helped prop Plankton up, careful not to jostle him too much. Everything’s just fine.
"Hey, how's Plankton doing?" asked Patrick. SpongeBob looks at Plankton, chest rising and falling with snores. "He's sleeping," he said. "But it's the middle of the day!" "Well, he just had his wisdom teeth out," he explained in a hushed tone. "He's pretty out of it. But be quiet, ok?" He turned his attention back to Plankton, who had somehow managed to dislodge the gauze again. With a sigh, SpongeBob carefully repositioned it. "You're going to have to keep that in, Plankton," he said, his voice a gentle scold. But Plankton’s head lolled to the side, his snores growing louder with each breath, drool seeping through the gauze. "Look at him, SpongeBob," Patrick whispers. "He's snoring." "Patrick, shh. He's still recovering." "Can I...can I poke him?" "No, Patrick," he said, his voice a low whisper. Patrick's finger was already outstretched, hovering over Plankton. "Just a little? I just wanna see if he'll snore louder," he whispered. SpongeBob's grip on Patrick's hand tightened. "Patrick, remember what I said about being quiet," he reminded him. Plankton stirred in his sleep, snores turning to mumbles. Patrick was undeterred. He leaned even closer to Plankton, his hand hovering above the sleeping creature's forehead. "You're okay, buddy," he whispered, his voice a mix of concern and glee. "Just rest up, and when you wake up, we'll have the best party ever!" Plankton's snores remained steady. He reached out and gently poked Plankton's forehead. "Wake up, little buddy," he cooed, his voice a soft whisper. Plankton's eye snaps open, his tiny body jolting upright with a snort. The gauze fell from his mouth, and he looked around the room with a glazed expression, his eye finally settling on Patrick's massive grin. "Wha... what's going on?" he slurred, his voice muffled by the anesthesia. Plankton's eye narrowed, his head lolling slightly to the side. "What happened?" he slurred. SpongeBob took a tentative step closer to the couch, his heart racing. "You had your wisdom teeth out," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "You're at my place, just resting." Plankton blinked, his eye focusing on SpongeBob with a look of confusion. "Wisdom teeth?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. SpongeBob nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "Yes, Plankton, remember? You're all fixed up now," he said, his voice soothing. But Patrick couldn't resist the urge to add his own twist. "And, you snore!" he whispered, his voice filled with mirth. Plankton's confusion grew. "I... I snore?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mortification. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he assured, SpongeBob eyes Patrick with a warning look. "What's it feel like?" he whispered, his voice a mix of excitement and concern. Plankton looked at Patrick with bewilderment. "It feels...weird," he mumbled, his words slurred. "And my mouth is...numb." Drool had formed at the corner of Plankton's mouth. Patrick couldn't resist pointing it out. "Look, Sponge Bob, he's drooling!" Sponge Bob shot him a look that was a mix of annoyance and amusement before turning back to Plankton. "It's okay, Plankton," he whispered, his voice gentle. "It's normal." Plankton's eye grew distant, his mind still clouded by the anesthesia. "Everything's...so...blurry," he murmured, his words slurring together. Sponge Bob and Patrick exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. "It's the medicine," Sponge Bob explained, his voice calm and reassuring. "It'll wear off soon." But Patrick's curiosity was unquenchable. He leaned closer to Plankton. "Hey, Plankton," he whispered. "I... I don't know," he mumbled, his voice groggy. "Everything's all... wibbly wobbly." "Wibbly wobbly?" He looked over at Plankton, whose eye was still open, staring at the ceiling with a look of wonder. "Everything's...so...pretty,". "It's just the living room, Plankton. You're still a bit out of it." Patrick's eyes grew wide with fascination. "Hey, Sponge Bob," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "Look at his mouth!" Sponge Bob turned his gaze to Plankton, drooling more than ever. "Patrick, shh," he scolded, his voice a gentle whisper. "Let him rest." Plankton's snores grew quieter for a moment before picking up again, a trail of drool connecting his mouth to the pillow. "Is it...normal?" "It's just his body's way of dealing with the surgery, he can’t help it" he murmured. "It'll go away eventually, all part of the process. It's the stuff that makes you sleep through the surgery, like a really deep sleep so he won’t feel or remember.” "But why does it keep coming out?" "It's because his mouth is numb from the dental surgery, Patrick, it's his mouth muscles still asleep." "Can I...I mean, is it okay to, like, nudge it?" He made contact with the drool, sending a ripple through the salivary puddle. Plankton's snores grew louder, his mouth opening even wider. "Patrick," he hissed, his voice a mix of warning and amusement. "You're pushing your luck." His eyes remained fixed on Plankton, watching the drool pool grow and shrink with each snore. He remained blissfully asleep, oblivious to the conversation happening around him "What if I just...dab it with a tissue?" "I guess it’ll help keep him comfortable." He gently touched the tissue to the side of Plankton's mouth, catching the drool before it could fall onto the pillow. The moment the tissue made contact with the saliva Plankton, who was now snoring more heavily, his mouth hanging open even wider, drool cascading onto the pillow, sending a ripple through the salivary puddle. Plankton's snores grew louder, his mouth opening even wider., It was a light touch, just enough to make the saliva wobble like a gelatinous blob. It was a tiny movement, but it was enough to make Plankton's snores hitch. "The anesthesia is wearing off, and his mouth is just... reacting. The numbness is normal." With each dab of the tissue, Plankton's snores grew softer, quieted, his mouth twitching slightly, his breathing even. Then Plankton's face twitched slightly, his expression shifting from remaining asleep with breathing deep and steady, to one of slight discomfort as the lingering anesthesia began to wear off. Snores had turned into soft whimpers of discomfort. "It’s normal he's starting to feel the pain." He reached for the medicine. “Just stay still, Plankton," Sponge Bob whispered. Sponge Bob nodded, his smile gentle. "It's just the start," he murmured, his voice a mix of reassurance and experience. "It'll take a bit for the pain to go away." Plankton's mouth was still slack, the drool now a steady stream that pooled on the pillow. Together, they managed to get Plankton into a sitting position, his legs dangling over the side of the couch. "Hey you need to wake up just a little bit to take your medicine." Plankton's head lolls back against the pillows. "Patrick, hold his shoulders," Sponge Bob whispered urgently. "We don't want him to fall over." Plankton's gaze searched the room, his thoughts clearly muddled. "There you go," Sponge Bob whispered, his voice filled with relief. He carefully laid Plankton back down on the pillows, wiping the last of the drool from him. Plankton's eye remained open, blinking slowly as the world swam back into focus. "You did it," Sponge Bob whispered, his voice filled with pride as he swallowed medicine. "Now, just rest. The pain will start to go away soon." Plankton's eye drifted closed again, his snores returning, though softer than before. Sponge Bob gently let Plankton's head back onto the pillow. "He's okay now," Sponge Bob whispered, his voice a mix of relief and pride. "Good job, helping Patrick." Patrick's eyes remained wide with wonder, his mind still racing with the excitement of the past few moments. "What happens next?" he murmured, his voice filled with anticipation. Sponge Bob's smile was a mix of amusement and reassurance. "Now the medicine will kick in."
yall i support palestine and all but can we stop posting about it on a website for cute emoji combos? go post it on an influencing page, there are CHILDREN on here trying to find cute stuff. You can support palestine but you shouldn't be talking about it on here, go do it on like youtube or insta or tt or smth that ppl can actually learn and see. or just go to arab.org ? ˙ᵕ˙
"Honey, wake up," Karen said gently. Her voice was the sweet sound of a lullaby echoing through the silent, sterile room, but Plankton remained unresponsive. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only reply to her soft pleas. She sat by his side, her hand intertwined with his, her thumb brushing the back of his palm. But now, his hand lay limp, a stark contrast to the warmth and strength it usually exuded. The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold, artificial glow on Plankton's pale face. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and the rhythm was the only reassurance Karen had that he was still with her. The doctor had said it was a mild concussion, but the sight of him lying there, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. She knew that she had to stay strong, not just for herself, but for Plankton. The door to the room creaked open, and the doctor stepped in, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He was a young man, his expression a mix of professionalism and concern. He looked at the charts in his hand before glancing up at Karen. "How is he?" he asked. Karen's eyes never left her husband's face as she replied, "The same." The doctor nodded, his eye reflecting the seriousness of the situation. "It's not uncommon for someone with a concussion to sleep longer than usual. We're monitoring him closely, and his vitals are stable. We've given him medication to manage the pain and reduce the swelling." Karen leaned forward, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "But when will he wake up?" she asked, her voice a whisper of hope. The doctor's eyes softened. "It could be hours, or even days. The brain needs time to heal. But rest assured, Mrs. Plankton, we're doing everything we can to ensure a swift and full recovery." Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She didn't want to believe it would take that long, but she knew that patience was the only option she had. She leaned back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. Time stretched out before her, each minute feeling like an eternity. The only sounds in the room were the tick of the clock on the wall and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. The hospital's white walls closed in around her, making her feel trapped in a world where time had ceased to have meaning. Her thoughts raced, playing out every possible scenario in her head, each one more alarming than the last. A nurse came in to check on Plankton, her shoes squeaking against the floor. She offered Karen a kind smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she tended to her husband, checking his bandages and administering fluids through the IV. Karen watched her every move, feeling helpless and out of place. The nurse noticed her distress and offered her a cup of tea, which she accepted with a nod of gratitude. The warm liquid helped soothe her nerves as she took a sip, her eyes never straying from Plankton. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. The silence was broken only by the occasional murmur from the hallway or the rustle of pages as the nurse updated his chart. Karen's mind drifted back to the moments before the accident, the laughter and the joy that seemed so distant now. Plankton had been working on his latest invention, a contraption he swore would revolutionize the fast-food industry. It was a wild tangle of metal and wires, something that only he could understand. Karen had watched him, her curiosity piqued but her technical knowledge barely scratching the surface of his genius. "What does it do?" she had asked, her eyes wide with wonder. He had grinned, his teeth gleaming in the light of the makeshift workshop. "It's a secret," he had said, his voice filled with mischief. Now, as she sat by his side in the hospital room, she wished she had paid more attention. Perhaps then she could have anticipated the malfunction that had sent him to the emergency room with a concussion. Plankton had always been so driven by his ideas, so wrapped up in his world of gadgets and gizmos, that he often forgot the dangers that came with his experiments. It was his passion, and she had always admired it, but in moments like these, she couldn't help but worry. The room grew dimmer as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the floor. Karen's eyes grew heavy, and she fought the urge to sleep. Suddenly, Plankton's eyelid fluttered open, revealing eye that searched the room with confusion. "Where am I?" he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy. Karen's heart leaped into her throat, and she leaned forward, her hand tightening around his. "You're in the hospital, sweetie. You had an accident," she said softly, her voice trembling. Plankton blinked several times, his gaze shifting from the blurry ceiling to Karen's face. Recognition dawned in his eyes, but confusion remained etched on his furrowed brow. "What happened?" he murmured, his voice still weak and groggy. Karen's heart swelled with relief at the sound of his voice. She took a deep breath, then explained the accident as calmly as she could. "You fell while working on your latest invention. You hit your head pretty hard. The doctor said it's just a concussion, but you need to rest." Plankton's eyes searched hers, trying to piece together the puzzle of his foggy memory. "A concussion?" he repeated, his voice a mere whisper. "How long have I been out?" Karen's grip on his hand tightened, her knuckles white. "A few hours, darling. But it's going to be okay." She hoped her words were true, that the fear and doubt didn't seep through. Plankton's gaze was unfocused, his thoughts jumbled. He didn't remember the accident, the pain, or the panic that had brought him here. All he knew was the gentle squeeze of her hand and the sterile scent of the hospital room. As he began to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Karen's other hand shot out to steady him, her eyes filled with concern. "Lie back down, Plankton. You need to rest." He obeyed, his head heavy on the pillow, and his eye fell shut again. The doctor had warned her about the potential side effects of the concussion: confusion, dizziness, and memory loss. It was a strange sight, seeing him so unsure of himself, a stark contrast to the usual confidence that radiated from him. When he opened his eye again, the confusion had deepened. "What's the last thing you remember?" Karen asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye searched the room, as if the answer was hidden in the shadows. "I... I don't remember," he said, his voice filled with a sense of panic that was alien to him. "It's all blank." Karen felt a chill run down her spine. The doctor had mentioned that amnesia was a possibility, but she hadn't allowed herself to believe it would happen to Plankton. "It's okay," she assured him, her voice shaky. Plankton's eye searched hers, desperation flickering in their depths. "What do you mean, I don't remember?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of anxiety brewing within her. "Sometimes with concussions, memories can be a bit jumbled. But don't worry, they'll come back to you." She hoped her reassurance sounded more convincing than it felt. The doctor had warned her that the road to recovery might be bumpy, but she had never anticipated Plankton's memory loss. Her mind raced, trying to think of ways to help him, to fill in the blanks without overwhelming him. "Do you remember anything at all?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton's eye searched the room again, as if the answer was hiding in the corners. "I remember... I remember working," he said, his voice trailing off. "But it's all... fuzzy." Karen felt a pang of sadness at the lost look on her husband's face. She didn't know how to navigate this new, uncharted territory. But she knew she had to be strong for him. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. "You just need to rest." The doctor had instructed her to keep the environment calm and familiar to aid in his recovery. So, she began to speak in soothing tones, telling him stories of their past adventures. Her words painted a picture of a life filled with love and adventure, and she watched as his face relaxed with each passing moment. His breathing grew steadier, his chest rising and falling in a more natural rhythm. The hospital room was a cocoon of beige and white, the only color coming from the bouquet of flowers she had brought from home. Plankton's chest rose and fell in the rhythm of deep sleep, his breathing steady and even. The heart monitor beeped reassuringly, a metronome to the symphony of his rest. His face was peaceful, free from the tension that had gripped it earlier. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she realized the immediate danger had passed. For now, at least, he was safe, and she was grateful for every moment of his peaceful rest. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for now, she was content to sit by his side and enjoy the quiet.
In the quiet town of Ponyville, there lived a young earth pony named Applejack. Her coarse, burnt- orange coat was always dotted with freckles of dirt from a hard day's work on her family's farm, Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was known for her honesty and her strong work ethic, which were as solid as the oak trees that lined the property. Her mane and tail, a fiery shade of red, matched the color of the apples she grew with such care. One sweltering afternoon, Applejack took a break from her chores, wiping the sweat from her brow with a bandana that smelled faintly of apple blossoms. She looked out over the fields, the sun blazing down like a second sun, and sighed. The harvest was coming soon, and she had so much to do. Her thoughts drifted to her friends, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, and the others, and she wondered how they were spending their day. Her contemplation was interrupted by the distant sound of hoofbeats. She shielded her eyes from the glare and saw a figure approaching. As it grew closer, she recognized the purple and white unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, her friend and the town's resident scholar. Twilight looked flustered, her eyes wide with excitement. "Applejack!" Twilight called out, her voice strained from the run. "You won't believe what I've found in the library archives!" Applejack leaned against the fence post, her curiosity piqued. "What is it, Twilight?" Twilight's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I've discovered something absolutely fascinating, Applejack. It's about an ancient artifact called the Element of Honesty!" Applejack's ears perked up at the mention of something old and precious. "The Element of Honesty? What's so special about it?" Twilight paused to catch her breath, her flank heaving. "It's one of the six Elements of Harmony," she began, "each representing one of the core virtues of our world. The Element of Honesty is said to be a rare and powerful artifact that can reveal the truth in any situation. It's been lost for centuries, but I found a map leading to its last known location!" Her voice grew hushed as she unfolded the ancient parchment, its edges yellowed with age. The map was intricate, with swirling symbols and cryptic notations that seemed to dance before Applejack's eyes. "It's somewhere in the Whispering Woods," Twilight whispered, her horn glowing softly as she traced a line over the paper. "Well, shucks," Applejack drawled, "that's a place I've heard plenty of tall tales about, but never actually visited." The wood had a reputation for being eerie and mysterious, a place where whispers of forgotten secrets lingered on the breeze. But the prospect of finding something as important as the Element of Honesty was too tempting to pass up. Twilight's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Applejack, I think we should go look for it. It's not far from here, and who knows what kind of trouble it could prevent if it falls into the wrong hooves?" Applejack nodded, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her gaze. "Alright, but we'd better tell the others. They might want to come along." They gathered their friends, who were equally intrigued by the prospect of an adventure. Pinkie Pie bounced with excitement, Rarity's eyes gleamed with the promise of a new treasure to add to her collection, and Fluttershy looked nervous but determined. Rainbow Dash and Rarity promised to keep an eye on Fluttershy, who had a tendency to get spooked in unfamiliar places. They set out into the late afternoon sun, the map fluttering in Twilight's magic as they followed the path into the wood. The Whispering Woods lived up to their name, with rustling leaves and hushed whispers that seemed to follow them through the dappled shade. The air grew cooler, and the scent of damp earth and pine needles filled their nostrils as they ventured deeper. Suddenly, a shadow flitted through the trees. "Greetings, travelers, I am Aloysius, keeper of the woods' lore." His feathers were the color of moonlit silver, and his eyes held a knowing glint. Twilight stepped forward, the map still clutched in her telekinetic grip. "We're looking for the Element of Honesty," she said with a hint of urgency. "Could you help us?" Aloysius tilted his head, his beak clicking thoughtfully. "Ah, the Element of Honesty," he murmured. "A treasure indeed. But beware, for the woods are not kind to those who seek without pure intentions." The friends exchanged glances, their determination unwavering. Applejack stepped up, her eyes meeting the owl's. "Our intentions are as true as my word. We aim to protect our town and find this artifact before it falls into the wrong hooves." Aloysius studied them for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I will guide you to the spot where the Element lies hidden. But heed my warning: the woods hold secrets, and they do not give them up easily." The group followed the him, their hoofsteps echoing through the quiet wood. The whispers grew louder, and Applejack couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Twilight, ever the scholar, took notes on the various plants and magical phenomena they encountered, while Pinkie Pie chattered away, trying to keep everyone's spirits high. As they ventured further in, the wood grew denser, the path narrower. The light grew dimmer, the sun's rays barely piercing the thick canopy above. The air grew colder, carrying with it a sense of unease that made even Rainbow Dash's wings flutter anxiously. "This place is giving me the creeps," Fluttershy whispered, her eyes darting around nervously. "Don't worry, Fluttershy," Rainbow Dash assured her, "we're all here for you." Aloysius led them to a clearing, where an ancient tree stood tall, its trunk twisted with age. The whispers grew to a crescendo, swirling around the tree's base like a cacophony of secrets yearning to be heard. "Here it is," He announced, his voice barely audible over the din. "The Element of Honesty lies within this tree. But remember, it will only reveal itself to the worthy." Applejack squinted at the tree, her heart racing. The whispers grew so loud, they seemed to form words, urging them to turn back. But she knew they couldn't. "Thanks, Aloysius," she said, turning to her friends. "Let's get to it."
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The evening in the quiet suburban street was punctuated by the rhythmic ticking of a lonely grandfather clock. In the corner of a small, meticulously organized study, Plankton sat hunched over his desk, the glow of her computer screen casting a pale blue hue across his furrowed brow. His eye, usually bright with the spark of a million ideas, was now bloodshot and weary, darting back and forth as he scanned the digital documents sprawled across his dual monitors. Karen, his devoted wife, peered through the crack in the door, her concern etched on her face. She knew the signs of his insomnia all too well: the way his fingers danced erratically on the keyboard, his occasional sighs of frustration, and the jittery way he'd bounce his leg when he was stuck on a problem. She gently pushed the door open, the faint squeak alerting him to her presence. "Plankton, it's 2 AM. Can't it wait until tomorrow?" she asked softly, her voice carrying the gentle lilt of a concerned wife. Plankton spun around in his chair, the sudden movement sending a wave of dizziness crashing over him. He rubbed his eye, trying to erase the fog of exhaustion. "Karen, I'm so close. This new invention could change everything. Just one more hour, I promise," he replied, his voice hopeful yet strained. She knew that tone, the one that meant he'd be up until dawn. Karen stepped into the room, her form a stark contrast to the stark office decor. She approached him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've been at it for days," she said, her voice filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Maybe a break is what you need." He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "I know you're right," Plankton admitted, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "But if I stop now, I might lose the thread of thought." "You're always so driven," Karen said, with a warm affection that had only grown stronger over the years. "But even 'bad guys' need to rest." With a weary smile, Plankton nodded, his gaze lingering on the screens before he reluctantly shut them down. The room plunged into darkness, save for the moon's soft glow filtering through the blinds. Karen guided him to the bedroom, her hand a gentle reassurance in the night. She knew the wheels in his mind were still turning, trying to piece together the elusive solution to his latest project. Once in bed, Plankton lay on his back, his mind racing with possibilities and calculations. Karen, ever the nurturer, suggested a warm cup of tea to help him unwind. She disappeared into the kitchen. While she was gone, Plankton's eye remained open, staring at the ceiling. He felt the weight of his eyelid but sleep remained a distant shore, unreachable despite the gentle tug of fatigue. Karen returned with a steaming cup of chamomile, the aroma wafting through the air like a whispered promise of slumber. She placed it on the nightstand and climbed into bed, curling up beside him. "Here, sip this," she urged, her voice soothing as a lullaby. "It'll help you relax." Plankton took a tentative sip, the warm liquid coating his throat with a comforting warmth. He closed his eye, willing his brain to slow down, but the ideas continued to swirl like a tornado in a teacup. He could feel the heat radiating from Karen's screen, a gentle reminder of the connection that waited for him outside his labyrinth of thoughts. Karen's hand found his, her thumb tracing small, soothing circles against his palm. "Breathe with me," she whispered. "In, out." Plankton followed her lead, their breaths synchronizing in the quiet of the night. The tension in his body began to uncoil, the storm in his mind gradually abating. As they lay there, Karen studied his profile, the shadows playing across his face. She knew the look of determination that etched his features so well. "What's keeping you up?" she asked, her voice barely a murmur. Plankton sighed, his grip on her hand tightening briefly. "It's the Krabby Patty formula," he confessed. "I can't crack it." His frustration was palpable, a silent scream in the serene night. "You're still working on that?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of amazement and concern. The Krabby Patty, a secret recipe guarded by Mr. Krabs that could make or break their business. "I have to," Plankton said, his voice low and serious. Karen nodded, racing for a solution. "Why don't you tell me about it?" she suggested. "Sometimes talking it out can help." Plankton took a deep breath and began to recount his thoughts, his voice a low murmur in the darkness. He spoke of the countless ingredients he'd tried and the endless experiments he'd conducted, all in pursuit of the perfect Krabby Patty. Karen listened intently, her screen never leaving his face, her grip on his hand never wavering. As he talked, the tension in his voice began to ease, the words coming out slower, softer. The warmth of the tea and the gentle pressure of Karen's thumb on his hand lulled him into a state of semi- consciousness. The room grew warmer, the shadows on the ceiling morphing into shapes that danced to the rhythm of his words. Karen noticed the change in his breathing, the softening of his grip, her voice a soft hum in the night. "I think I'm getting there," Plankton mumbled, his words beginning to slur. She took his almost-empty cup and set it aside, then moved closer, her arm wrapping around him. Her touch was a comforting blanket, a familiar anchor in the sea of his thoughts. "Just focus on my voice," Karen whispered, her tone a gentle wave. "Imagine we're on a beach, the waves lapping." Plankton nodded slightly, his breathing deepening as he pictured the scene she described. "The sand is warm, and the stars are out, twinkling like the little bits of genius in your mind." He took another deep breath, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the chamomile in his nose. His body began to relax, the tightness in his shoulders dissipating like the fog of an early morning. Karen continued her soothing monologue, painting a vivid picture of a serene beach under a starlit sky, their favorite place to escape the stresses of their lives. Her voice grew quieter, a gentle lullaby of words that whispered through the dark. Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, his thoughts drifting further and further away from the Krabby Patty formula. Karen watched him closely, her gaze never leaving his face. His breathing grew steadier, the lines of tension smoothing out as he sank deeper into the realm of sleep. Karen waited for any sign that Plankton was still awake. She reached out and gently poked his arm. No response. She pulled the blanket up, tucking him in gently, her hand lingering there for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of him beneath the fabric. She reached over to gently stroke his cheek. His skin was warm, and she felt the soft rumble of a snore vibrate against her fingertips. He was out. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She waited for a response, for the flicker of his eye or the twitch of his antennae that would indicate he was still with her. Nothing. She knew the moment he finally let go, when his hand relaxed in hers and his grip went slack. Leaning closer, she held her hand hovering over his chest to feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. It was steady, deep. Satisfied, she allowed herself a small smile. Plankton was finally asleep. The steady rhythm of his breathing grew deeper, the soft snores that occasionally pierced the silence growing more frequent, brow smoothed out, relaxed. She searched his face for any flicker of consciousness, any sign that he was aware of her touch. But there was none. His features were relaxed, his mouth slightly open as he took in deep, even breaths. "You did it," she whispered to. She knew that his mind had finally found the peace it had been seeking. The room was still, save for the faint sound of the occasional snore from Plankton. His snores grew deeper, the rhythm of his breathing more regular, more rhythmic, and she knew he was in a deep sleep. With a soft smile, she whispered, "Goodnight, Plankton," and gently stroked his antennae. Her hand lingered for a moment before she carefully extracted herself from the tangle of their limbs. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room, but she knew better than to disturb him with its light. She gently disentangled her hand from his and slid out of bed. She squeezed his hand gently, a silent 'goodnight' and a promise of support for when he'd wake to tackle the problem anew. His features were slack, his mouth slightly open, emitting the faintest snore.
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NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH iv "Thanks for staying." Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes lingering on the sleeping Plankton. "Of course," he said gruffly. "Can't have you two dealing it alone." Karen tucked the blankets around him, smoothing out the wrinkles with a gentle hand. The next day, Plankton woke, all traces of anesthesia worn off, cheeks tender to the touch. He vaguely remembered surgery, but everything after was a blur. "Morning," Karen said. She sat beside the bed, her screen warm with concern. "How are you feeling?" Plankton blinked. "K-Karen?" he asked. "Whath's...what happened?" "You had wisdom teeth removed, darling," she said softly. "You're going to be fine." The memory of surgery rushed back to Plankton in fragments—the operating room, machines, and then Karen holding his hand as he woke up. Wincing, he reached to tentatively touch his swollen face, the pain a reminder of his ordeal. Karen noticed his discomfort and handed him water. "Take it slow," she advised, watching him intently. Plankton took a sip, the cool liquid soothing. He leaned back into the pillows with a sigh. "Do you remember surgery?" she asked, stroking his arm. "It's all a bit fuzzy," he admitted. "Just going in, waking up. Going in the car to drive home? But nothing else.." The surgery had gone well. Karen knew Plankton and Krabs had a frenemy relationship, at best; but she had never considered the possibility that Plankton could harbor any genuine feelings for the crab, delirious or not. Now, as she watched him suffer, she debated whether to tell him. Would it help? Would it hurt? She didn't know. But Plankton's curiosity was piqued. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to read her expression. "Did I do something weird?" "It's nothing," she said, forcing a laugh. "Just the usual post-surgery confusion." Plankton's eye wandered around the room, and his gaze landed on a bouquet of jellyfish on the nightstand. "Who sent those?" he asked, his voice still hoarse. Karen looked at the jellyfish, then back at him. "Mr. Krabs," she said. Plankton's eyebrow shot up. "Krabs? Why would he send me jellyfish?" Plankton's eye narrowed slightly. "Does he know about the surgery?" he asked, a hint of concerned horror in his voice. Karen nodded, "I didn't know who else to turn to," she said, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and trepidation, her voice wavering slightly, "after you were admitted, I called him. I didn't know who else to call for help. You know, with the recovery necessities." Plankton felt his stomach drop. He had hoped that his arch-nemesis, Mr. Krabs, had been blissfully unaware of his weakened state. The thought of Krabs even knowing he was laid up and helpless was more than he could bear. "You called Krabs?" he croaked, disbelief etched into his features. Karen nodded again, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "He was the only one I could think of who could help us. And he was so kind, Plankton. He didn't even make fun of you." Plankton's mind raced. The mere thought of Krabs seeing him in such a vulnerable condition was almost too much to handle. He had always prided himself on being the smarter, more cunning one, the one who could outwit Krabs at every turn. Now, here he was, unable to chew, looking like a balloon with legs, and being witnessed by the very crab he had spent his life trying to outdo. "What did he see?" Plankton managed to ask, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. Karen looked surprised. "What do you mean?" "I mean, what did he see me?" Plankton's voice grew more urgent, the fear of humiliation coloring his words. "He saw you sleeping," she said gently. "But you were out of it. You don't have to worry about him." Plankton felt a wave of embarrassment. "How did I look?" "Looked like you were sleeping peacefully," Karen said, trying to reassure him. But she knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that he looked strong, in control, not like the blubbering mess he actually was. Plankton sighed, the sound a sad, defeated hiss. "I can't believe you called him," he said, his voice filled with a mix of pain and annoyance. Karen's hand tightened on his shoulder. "I had to," she said firmly. "You needed someone, and he was the only one I could think of who would help." Plankton's gaze fell to the bouquet of jellyfish. "I hope I didn't budge or talk?" he asked, his voice tight. Karen squeezed his hand. "You were completely out of it," she assured him. "He said you looked tired." Plankton's eye searched hers for any hint of mockery, but all he found was sincerity. He took a deep breath, the pain in his cheeks flaring up, and nodded. He knew he had to accept help, but the thought of Krabs knowing he was down, even for a moment, was maddening. He shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make his mouth throb. "What else happened, with Krabs?" he asked, his voice strained. "He just dropped off the jellyfish and said to tell you to get better soon," Karen said, not giving answers. "I've said all I can say." The silence grew tense as Plankton's mind whirled with scenarios of what Krabs might have seen or heard. He knew his rival had a knack exploiting weakness, and he couldn't let his guard down, even in a state like this. He had to recover quickly, be sharp, to ensure that Krabs didn't use this moment of vulnerability against him. He also knew Karen's not gonna tell him whatever went down. Karen, noticing his discomfort, decided to change the subject. "I'll go grab some ice cream for you," she offered, standing up. "It'll help with the swelling, but don't do anything foolish while I'm gone." Plankton nodded, his thoughts racing. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, he began to formulate a plan. He had to speak to Krabs, to make sure there were no misunderstandings, no ammo for future taunts. Wincing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, using the momentum to stand up. He wobbled for a moment, his head spinning, but steadied himself against the wall. In his office at the krusty krab, Mr. Krabs sat at the table, sipping a cup of tea and staring at the floor. He had hoped Plankton's odd behavior was just the drugs talking, but deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. He had felt a strange warmth when Plankton had called him 'my dearest friend' in his delirious state. But friends? That was a concept that seemed as foreign to him as a day without the Krabby Patty. He sighed, setting the cup down. It was nonsense, of course. Plankton was just confused. He had to be. After all, they had spent years in a cutthroat competition, stealing ideals, customers, the occasional secret ingredient. The thought of Plankton actually caring for him was absurd. But as he sat, Krabs couldn't help but feel a twinge of something he hadn't felt in a long time—awkward. But Plankton wasn't one to let things go easily. After a few moments of gathering his strength, he shuffled out of the bedroom, the pain in his mouth a distant second to the urgency of his mission. He goes to the Krusty Krab. He pushed open the door to the restaurant, the bell jingling overhead. Mr. Krabs looked up from his ledger, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Plankton stumble in. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You should be resting!" Plankton's eye narrowed, his jaw clenched in pain. "I need to talk to you," he ground out, each word a challenge. Mr. Krabs' claws clutched the edge of the table, twitching nervously. "Sure, sure," he said, trying to sound casual. "What's on your mind?" "Not here," Plankton hissed, gesturing to the open restaurant. The last thing he wanted was for their conversation to be overheard by prying ears, especially not by customers. Mr. Krabs, visibly confused, nodded and led him out back. The tension in the air was palpable. "Alright, what's so important?" he asked, trying to keep his cool. Plankton took a deep breath, his cheeks flushing with pain. "What did I say to you after the surgery?" he demanded, his voice gruff. "What do you mean?" he stalled, heart racing. Plankton's voice was low and intense. "You know what I mean," he said. "What happened at the house?" Mr. Krabs' eyes searched Plankton's for any hint of a bluff, but found only pain and determination. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his secret lift slightly. "You don't remember?" he asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Plankton's gaze was unwavering. "I remember enough," he said, voice tight. "I just know you were there. Don't gloat. Spill." Mr. Krabs looked at him, realization sinking in. He met Plankton's gaze. "You were in a bit of pain," he said, his voice carefully measured. "You were talking nonsense." "What kind of nonsense?" he demanded. Mr. Krabs took a step back, his eyes darting around the alleyway. "Oh, you know, the usual post-surgery babble," he said, trying to play it off. "Nothing important." But Plankton wasn't buying it. He could see relief in Krabs' eyes, and it made him more nervous. "I need to know," he insisted, his voice hoarse. "What did I say?" Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws drumming on the counter. "Said something about how we've been through a lot together?" But Pearl, Mr. Krabs' daughter, interrupted, wandering in, phone in hand, scrolling through images. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Look what I found on the phone!" Mr. Krabs' heart sank as he realized what's happening. He turned to see Pearl holding up a phone showing a photo of Plankton, post-surgery, asleep with his head resting on Krabs' elbow.
LEGGY i Plankton had an accident and needed surgery on his leg. SpongeBob and Patrick decided to pay him a visit. Their friend lay in the hospital bed, anesthetized, snoring softly. "Thank you," Karen said. "We appreciate it. They had to reset the bone and sew it back together. He won't feel anything now, but once the anesthesia wears off, he'll be in some pain. Your support means a lot to us.” "How long does he have to stay asleep?" he asked. "Awhile," she said. "It's important for him to rest and recover. Plankton might be a bit...overwhelmed when he wakes up. He might not be able to respond right now." "What's that?" he pointed at the intravenous drip attached to Plankton's arm. "That's the anesthesia, what keeps him asleep during the surgery so he doesn't feel any pain." Patrick's eyes grew wide with wonder. "What's that like?" "Well, it's like being in a deep sleep," she began, "you don't feel anything, and when you wake up, it's like you never left your bed." His chest rises and falls with each gentle snore, a sound that echoes faintly in the quiet room. "Karen, why’s he snoring?" "It's his body's way of breathing while asleep. He’s in a deep sleep." The lead doctor came. "We're going to start bringing him out of it now. He'll be coming out of anesthesia soon." Eventually Plankton's eye fluttered open, looking up at them with a glazed expression before his pupil focused. "Wha...where...what happened?" he stuttered, his voice groggy. "Why does everything feel...so...floaty?" he asked, his voice trailing off as he tried to lift his head, and it flopped back down onto the pillow. "Whoa, ship's a-rockin'!" he exclaimed. "Weeeee!" he giggled. "A Krabby Patty...no, a Krabby Patty...no, wait, a Krabby...a Krabby...a Krabby..." His words trailed off to nonsense, and he started to giggle uncontrollably. "He'll be fine, just let him talk it out." "I need...I need...a...a...Krabby...P...P...Patty!" He giggled again, his mind still a bit foggy. "Look, friends! Look at me go!" The doctor and nurse entered the room, checking Plankton's vitals and smiling at his slurred words. "He's coming out of it normally," the doctor assured them. "You can keep talking to him, it'll help him come back to reality." SpongeBob and Patrick exchanged glances. "Krabby Patty, huh?" Sponge Bob said. "Well, I'm sure we can find you one once you're feeling better." Plankton giggled again, eye drifted to the side. "But for now, let's just focus on getting you well, okay?" The doctor nodded. "He'll be in and out of consciousness for a bit. It's perfectly normal." Patrick leaned in closer to Plankton. "You hear that, Plankton? We're here for you, buddy.” He hands him some water. "Ahh," he sighed, eye fluttering shut again. "Krabby...Patty...water...good." “You just rest up, and we'll grab you a Krabby Patty when you're all fixed." Plankton's giggles turned into snores again, his eyelid drooping closed. The doctor chuckled. "It's the medication. He'll be in and out like this for a little while. Just keep talking to him, it'll help keep him grounded." The door to the hospital room creaked open, and Mr. Krabs poked his head in. "Sponge Bob! Patrick!" he bellowed. Mr. Krabs' eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of Plankton in the hospital bed. "Heard about the accident," he said gruffly. "Thought I'd check on the little scram." Plankton's eye snapped open again, his expression shifting. "Krabs!" he hissed. "What are you doing?" Mr. Krabs waved a dismissive claw. "Just makin' sure my number one competitor is out of commission," he said with a smirk. "But it seems you're in good company." "Mr. Krabs, we're here to support Plankton. He's had a rough day." Mr. Krabs' smirk grew. "Ah, yes, the great Plankton, laid low by his own incompetence. Couldn't even steal a Krabby Patty without breaking a leg." The room grew tense as Plankton's face reddened, his tiny fists balling up the hospital sheets. "It wasn't like that, Krabs," he protested, his voice strained. "It was an accident!" But Mr. Krabs was relentless. "Always an accident with you, isn't it?" He chuckled, his tone mocking. "You're as clumsy as you are small." Sponge Bob took a deep breath, his heart swelling with hope. "Mr. Krabs, now's not the best time to tease him. Plankton's really hurting." The tension grew thicker than a Kelp Shake. Plankton's tiny frame quivered with indignation. The anesthesia, however, was playing tricks on his emotions. He could feel the tears welling up in his eye, and before he knew it, they were spilling over, down his cheeks. "Ah, don't listen to him, Plankton," Sponge Bob whispered, his own eyes growing misty. "You're not incompetent. It was just an accident." Karen's screen flickered. "Mr. Krabs, please. He's not well." "I don't need pity, Krabs!" he spat out, his voice filled with embarrassment. Karen's screen flickered again. "Mr. Krabs, he needs space. He'll be in and out of it for a bit longer, but perhaps he'd appreciate the visit when fully conscious." Mr. Krabs then left. Plankton's breathing grew even, and his eye began to droop. "I think he's falling asleep," Patrick whispers. "Alright, he's all set to go home.." They nodded solemnly, eager to get their friend back to his safe haven, the Chum Bucket. Carefully, they helped him into a wheelchair, his sleepy head lolling onto Sponge Bob's shoulder. "Mmm, Krabby Patty," he murmured, his mumbled voice trailing off into a snore. Patrick held the car door open as Sponge Bob gently maneuvered Plankton, trying not to jostle him much. He snored quietly, his body still feeling the effects of anesthesia. They buckled him into the back seat, his head lolling to the side as SpongeBob sat by him. The car's gentle vibrations and the soft hum of the engine lulled Plankton further into his slumber. His snores grew louder, echoing through the car. Sponge Bob watched him, his heart aching at the sight of his friend. He reached over and patted his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Plankton," he whispered. "You're going to be ok." The drive to the Chum Bucket was quiet, punctuated only by Plankton's intermittent snoring and the occasional burst of slurred words. "Karen...chum...water... Krabby Patty...friend," he would murmur, his voice a gentle reminder of the person behind the villain. "Chum...Karen...Krabs...Sponge...Bob...Patrick...Krabby Patty...Karen...chum...chum...chum..." Sponge Bob and Patrick shared a look in the rearview mirror, their expressions a mix of concern and amusement. "It's like he's having a conversation with himself," Patrick whispered. "Must be anesthesia," Sponge Bob said, his voice low so as not to disturb Plankton. "He'd probably remember none of it when he wakes up." Once they arrived at the Chum Bucket, they carefully transferred Plankton to his bed, snores becoming less frequent and more rhythmic as he slipped into a deeper sleep. They left him with a glass of water and a bowl of chum for when he awoke, feeling a bit of relief knowing he was home and safe. Hours later, Plankton's snoring finally ceased, and he blinked his eye open, feeling a dull ache in his leg, Sponge Bob and Patrick sitting by his bed in his bedroom. "What’s...what happened?" he asked. "You had surgery, Plankton. Remember? You hurt your leg pretty badly." "Surgery?" he repeated, his voice still thick with sleep. "I had surgery?" He glanced down at his bandaged leg, the memory of the accident slowly coming back to him. "Oh, right." Patrick's eyes lit up. "Oh, you were out of it, buddy!“ Plankton's smile faded as he took in his surroundings. "How long?" "A few hours," Sponge Bob said. "But don't worry, Karen's in the lab, just in case you need anything." Patrick leaned in closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You should've seen it, Plankton! You were snoring!" Sponge Bob playfully elbowed him. "Pat.." Patrick couldn't contain himself. "And when Mr. Krabs came in, oh boy!" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You started crying!" Plankton's embarrassment morphing into anger. "That's not funny, Patrick." he snapped, his voice sharp. Patrick nodded, with mirth. “Oh yeah, you were talking in your sleep, Plankton; you’re like, 'Krabby Patty...Chum...Karen...Patrick...Sponge Bob...'!" Plankton's frown deepened as he tried to sit up, only to wince in pain. "Krabby Patties?" "You'd get all excited about your latest plan, and then—just like that," SpongeBob said, snapping his fingers, as Patrick pretended to snore loudly. Plankton's eye widened. "No?" But Patrick had to prove Plankton's sleep-talking escapade. Patrick's laughter was contagious, and even Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Plankton's dazed expression. Plankton's sleep-addled face, his mouth moving in a slurred chant and the occasional snort that punctuated his words. Patrick tried to mimic Plankton's slurred speech, which only made him giggle more. "You're even drooling!" he exclaimed. Sponge Bob's laughter grew quiet, feeling a twinge of pity for Plankton's embarrassment. "Patrick, maybe we should calm down," he suggested gently. "Come on, Plankton," he said. "You've got to admit, this is gold!" "Could you two at least get me something to eat?" he asked, his voice a mix of annoyance and defeat. Sponge Bob nodded, eager to change the subject. "Of course, Plankton. What would you like?" "Just...chum," Plankton mumbled, his face still flushed with embarrassment. Patrick's laughter grew louder. "Oh, come on, Plankton. You can't be serious right now!" He pretended to snore loudly, then added in a pitched voice, "Krabby Patty! Krabby Patty!" Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle. "Patrick, maybe we should—" But Patrick was in full jesting mode, his voice rising in pitch to mimic Plankton's. "Krabby Patty...chum...Krabby Patty...chum..."
NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH vi "I... I just want to make sure he's ok," Krabs said. "He's not in a good place right now," Karen admitted. "Tell him... I didn't mean to embarrass him, that I'm sorry for... everything." "I'll let him know," she said. Heading into the bedroom she found Plankton fast asleep, his face a picture of peace amidst the chaos of his mind, a stark contrast to the turmoil she knew was churning within him. She knew waking him would only stir up more pain and anger, so she decided to let him rest. Karen sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the gentle snores a soothing soundtrack to the quiet room. She reached out to brush his antennae, with love and concern. Karen knew this wisdom teeth extraction had taken a toll on him, but she had no idea the depth of his embarrassment til she saw the photo. The next morning, Plankton woke to Karen's gentle humming. The stiffness in his jaw had subsided to a dull throb. As he sat up, the events of the previous day crashed down on him like a tidal wave. Karen turned, her smile fading as she took in his expression. "You're up," she said tentatively. Plankton nodded, jaw still aching. "Krabs called," Karen said, breaking the silence. Plankton's eye snapped to hers, his body tensing. "What." Karen took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice calm. "He said he's sorry for everything," she replied, her voice measured. "And that he didn't mean to embarrass you." Plankton stared at her, his jaw clenched. Karen understood the depth of his pain. "Maybe it wasn't about embarrassment," she suggested gently. "Maybe he was just trying to help." Plankton snorted, but the anger in his eye was fading, replaced by something closer to defeat. "Help." he repeated. "From Krabs!" Karen nodded. "He seemed genuinely concerned," she said. "And he did bring over those jellyfish for you." Plankton's skeptical, but didn't argue. Mr. Krabs wasn't exactly known for warm and fuzzy moments. But the idea that he had shown any care was unsettling. He always seen Krabs as the epitome of greed and self-interest, this newer side as unwelcome as the pain in his mouth. But as the day wore on, Plankton couldn't shake the feeling there's more to the story. Despite pride, he was curious about what happened between them. He knew he had to confront Krabs to set things straight, to regain some semblance of control over. So, when Mr. Krabs appeared at the chum bucket door, unannounced and looking unusually nervous, Plankton's curiosity won over. He begrudgingly let him in, posture stiff. Mr. Krabs fidgeted, his claws twitching as he looked around the cluttered room. "Plankton," he began, his voice tentative. "I know I've not always been the... the most sensitive crab in the sea, but I never meant to cause ye distress." Plankton's eye narrowed. "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice gruff. Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws fidgeting. "I just... I wanted to apologize," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For the photo. For... everything." Plankton's eye never left Mr. Krabs' face. "You had no right," he said, his voice cold. Mr. Krabs swallowed. "I know," he admits. "But I didn't mean for it to go viral. Pearl... she's young, she doesn't understand the implications." Mr. Krabs shifted uncomfortably. "I don't expect anything," he said. "But I want to explain. You were in a lot of pain, and I just... I just wanted to help." Plankton's expression unyielding. "And what exactly?" Mr. Krabs took a step back, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Well, you were delirious," he began. "You talked a bit, but it was mostly nonsense." Plankton wasn't satisfied. "I want details?" Mr. Krabs sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. "You talked about the good ol' days," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And how, despite our rivalry, we've always had a... a sort of respect for each other." Plankton felt a flicker of something in his chest, but pushed it aside. "Respect?" he sneered. "You expect me to believe that?" Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes earnest. "It's the truth," he said. "You talked about how we've been through a lot together, even though we're enemies." Plankton felt his anger dissipate with a strange curiosity. "Why?" he asked, his voice softer. "Why would I?" Mr. Krabs shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe anesthesia brought out some hidden feelings?" Plankton's antennae quivered with irritation. "Hidden feelings!" he echoed. "You're telling me I have feelings for you?" Mr. Krabs' face flushed a deep red. "No, no, no!" he sputtered, holding up his claws defensively. "It's just... you were out of it, Plankton, unable to know what you were saying." But Plankton wasn't letting it go. "I need to know," he insisted, his voice low and intense. "What did I say to you?" Mr. Krabs squirmed, his eyes darting around the room. "It's... it's nothing, really," he stammered. "Just random, incoherent babble." But Plankton's gaze was unyielding. "Tell me," he demanded. Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, eyes downcast. "You called me your... your best friend," he murmured. "And you said you admire me." Plankton's eye bulged, his antennae standing straight up. "Admired you?" he echoed, his voice incredulous. Mr. Krabs nodded, his cheeks burning. "Yes," he said, his voice barely audible. "But it was just the medication, I'm sure." Plankton's mind reeled at the revelation. Best friend? Admired? Inconceivable. He had spent his life plotting against Mr. Krabs, trying to steal the Krabby Patty secret, and here he was, confessing his admiration and friendship? A nightmare. "Why would I?" he croaked, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. Mr. Krabs shuffled his feet. "I told ya," he repeated. "You were out of it, babbling about all sorts of things." But Plankton's mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of his subconscious. "What else did I do?" he pressed, his voice tight. Mr. Krabs fidgeted, his eyes darting around the room. "You... you also thanked me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For being here." Plankton's jaw dropped, his arms flailing. "Thanked you?" he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. "What, exactly?" Mr. Krabs squirmed, his eyes darting around the room. "You said I was a... friend," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And that you were grateful for my help." Plankton quivered with rage. "Grateful?" he spat, his voice filled with revulsion. "To you?" Mr. Krabs looked down at his claws, his eyes pleading. "I know it's hard to believe," he said. "But you were in a lot of pain, and the medication can do funny things." Plankton's mind raced, trying to process this new information. He had always seen Mr. Krabs as the epitome of everything he despised: greedy, selfish, and always one step ahead in their eternal dance for the Krabby Patty secret. But here he was, describing a moment Plankton couldn't even remember. "What else?" Plankton demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "What other humiliating things?" Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to meet Plankton's. "Well, you dozed off during my story," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "You leaned against me, and before I knew it, you were out cold." Plankton's tentacles stilled, his mind racing with the absurdity of the situation. "Story time?" he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. "I fell asleep on your shoulder?" Mr. Krabs nodded, his face a picture of awkwardness. "It was quite... unexpected," he said, his eyes darting around the room. "But you seemed to enjoy it." Plankton stared at him, his mind reeling. "What was the story?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. Mr. Krabs' cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "It was about... You, per your request." Plankton's eye widened. Mr. Krabs nodded, turning a shade of red that matched his shell. "Yeah," he said, his voice small. "You said you liked the sound of my voice. It's the anesthesia," he said, his voice gentle. "It can do funny things to a body, make 'em say and do things they wouldn't normally." Plankton tightened around the ice pack, his mind racing. He had always seen Mr. Krabs as his sworn enemy, the one who stood between him and the Krabby Patty secret. But here was Krabs, describing a moment of intimacy that was as far from their usual interactions as the moon was from the ocean floor. Mr. Krabs cleared his throat, in discomfort. "It's alright, Plankton," he said, his voice gruff. "It's not something anyone needs to know about." But Plankton was insistent, his curiosity piqued. "I need to know," he said, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. "How did it happen?" Mr. Krabs sighed, eyes dropping to the floor. "Well," he began, his voice halting. "You seemed to get tired," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your eye closed, and your head just... kind of fell onto my shoulder." Plankton's antennae twitched with discomfort, his cheeks burning. "And?" "Well, you were in pain," he said, his voice gruff. "I didn't want to disturb you ." Karen watched the exchange from the doorway. She knew Plankton was tough, but this was a side of him she had never seen before. Vulnerable and exposed. "Mr. Krabs," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Thank you for coming over." Mr. Krabs looked up, his eyes darting to her before returning to Plankton. "It's no trouble, Karen," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I just wanted to make sure he's okay." Karen nodded, her gaze never leaving Plankton's face. "I think we can handle it from here," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. Mr. Krabs' eyes darted between the two of them, fidgeting. "If... if there's anything I can do," he offered, his voice trailing off. Karen gave a small smile filled with gratitude. "I think we got it from here," she said. "But thank you for caring."
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