Sevener Emojis & Text

🗒🎱🕢➡

🇮🇻🇻🇮🇮

7️⃣7️⃣7️⃣

👇🏾

77️7️7️𓃏

♾㊙

♾㊙🖐🏾

🦋

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY iv (Autistic author) Without missing a beat, Plankton starts rattling off a stream of facts. "Jellyfish are invertebrates," he says, his voice gaining speed and confidence. "They have no bones, no brains, but they have stinging cells called nematocysts." "Wow, Plankton, that's amazing," Sponge Bob says, eyes wide with wonder. "I didn't know that!" "Neither did I," Karen admits, a small smile playing. "You've always had a knack for science, but this is something else." Plankton nods, his excitement palpable. "Jellyfish have life cycle," he continues, his voice taking on the rhythm of a lecturer. "Start as polyps, then grow into medusae." Plankton's antennae twitch as he recites facts rapidly. "Jellyfish can have hundreds of stinging tentacles," he says, his voice gaining momentum. "And some species can even clone themselves. It's called strobilation!" he says, his eye glued to the book. His voice is monotone, but the enthusiasm is clear as he shares his newfound knowledge. "That's so cool, Plankton!" Sponge Bob exclaims. "I had no idea!" Plankton nods. "Jellyfish book," he says again, his voice still a monotone, but his tone is less flat. Karen and Sponge Bob share a hopeful look. Plankton's intense focus on jellyfish seems to be providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos of his new reality. "I think Plankton might just become the smartest jellyfish expert in Bikini Bottom," Karen says trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe one day we can go jellyfishing together," Sponge Bob says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods, his gaze flicking to Sponge Bob before returning to the book. "Jellyfishing," he repeats. "But Plankton, remember jellyfishing can be dangerous if they sting" Karen says gently with concern. Plankton's antennae twitch. "Dangerous," he repeats, his eye still on the book. "Jellyfish sting, but Plankton have plan." He flips through the pages, stopping at an image of a jellyfish in a jar. "Jellyfish in jar," he says, tapping the picture. "Safe jellyfish." Karen and Sponge Bob exchange a look. "You wanna keep jellyfish in a jar, Plankton?" Sponge Bob asks, voice tentative. Plankton nods vigorously. "Jellyfish in jar, safe jellyfish," he says, his excitement palpable. Sponge Bob leans closer to the book, his curiosity piqued. "What else does the book say, Plankton?" Plankton starts reading off the index and page numbers, his voice a monotone yet steady stream of information. "Jellyfish page 12. Nematocysts, page 34. Jellyfish reproduction, page 67," he recites, his antennae twitching with each number. Sponge Bob leans in closer, fascinated by Plankton's sudden wealth of knowledge. "How do you remember all of that?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Good memory," he says, his voice still flat but with a hint of pride. "Plankton read book." Karen nods, her gaze soft. "Yes, you read the book," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "You've learned so much about jellyfish." Plankton's antennae quiver with excitement as he flips through the pages. "Jellyfish book," he murmurs, his gaze alight with a passion that Karen hadn't seen in him since before the accident. "You know, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, leaning closer to the book. "Maybe we could start a jellyfish club. Just you, me, and Karen. We could learn all about them together." Plankton's antennae stand at attention at the idea. "Jellyfish club," he repeats, his voice a mix of excitement and skepticism. "With Karen and Sponge Bob?" "Yes," Karen says with a smile, her voice filled with hope. Plankton nods, his antennae moving with the rhythm of his thoughts. "Jellyfish club," he murmurs, the words rolling around in his head like a treasure found at the bottom of the sea. "Yea Plankton who knew, easy as pie!" "Pie?" he repeated, the word echoing in the room. "Pi, 3.14159265358979323846..." His voice grew in confidence as he recited the digits, his eye glazing over as he fell into a rhythm that seemed almost meditative. Karen and Sponge Bob stared at him in amazement as he rattled off the numbers, his monotone delivery a stark contrast to the awe in their expressions. "Plankton, that's incredible!" Karen exclaimed with astonishment. "Pi, yes," Plankton said unwavering. "Circle's ratio." Sponge Bob's eyes went wide. "How?" "Pi," Plankton began, his antennae quivering slightly as he found his rhythm. "The ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. 3.14159265358979323846..." He recited the digits as if they were the most natural thing in the world, his voice steady and unwavering. Karen and Sponge Bob watched in amazement as Plankton's eye took on a faraway look, his focus solely on the mathematical constant that held the secrets of the universe's geometry. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight of Plankton's newfound passion. "It's incredible how you can remember all of that," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "Remember pi," Plankton said, his antennae still quivering with excitement. "Easy for Plankton." "Wow, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his eyes sparkling with amazement. "You're a math genius!" Plankton's antennae twitched slightly at the compliment.

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM iv (Autistic author) "Let's play again," Plankton says, his voice eager. Sponge Bob nods, his smile genuine. "Ok, Plankton pick a board game." Karen watches as Sponge Bob sorts through the disarray of their game collection, his spongy fingers touching each box before finally settling on a card game. "Go Fish!" Sponge Bob exclaims, holding up the battered cards. Plankton's face lights up at the familiar phrase, his antennas waggling with excitement. "Fish, fish, fish," he repeats, his voice echoing the words. The two sit cross-legged on the floor, the cards spread out in front of them. Plankton's hands tremble slightly as he picks up his cards, but his concentration is intense. "Fish," he whispers, holding his hand out to Sponge Bob. Sponge Bob nods, understanding the game despite Plankton's simplified request. "Go Fish," he responds, placing a card into Plankton's outstretched palm. Plankton's eye brightens, and he repeats the action, placing a card into Sponge Bob's hand. "Fish," he says again, his voice slightly more confident. "Plankton you gotta take a card from the pile.." Sponge Bob starts to explain, but Plankton's antennas shoot up, and he interrupts. "Fish from the pile," he repeats, his voice eager. He reaches for the deck and draws a card, his eye never leaving Sponge Bob's. Sponge Bob nods. "That's right, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "Go Fish." Plankton repeats the phrase, his antennas bobbing with each word. "Go Fish," he murmurs, his eye scanning the cards. Sponge Bob nods, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Good job, Plankton," he encourages. "Your turn to ask for a card." Plankton's antennas wiggle as he thinks, his eye darting to his hand. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice a mix of excitement and focus. "Got any...?" He pauses, his brain searching for the right word. "Got any...?" "Got any fish?" Sponge Bob prompts, his smile never wavering. "Fish," Plankton repeats, his antennas bobbing. "Got any fish?" Sponge Bob nods, understanding dawning. "Do you have any twos?" Plankton's antennas twitch in excitement. "Two," he echoes, his voice triumphant. "Do you have any twos?" Sponge Bob's smile falters slightly as he nods, looking at his own cards. He's not sure how to proceed. He decides to keep the game simple. "I don't have any twos," he says. "Now it's your turn to Go Fish." Plankton nods, his concentration unbroken. He scans his cards again. "Got any fish?" he asks, his voice determined. Sponge Bob's smile widens, his eyes sparkling with understanding. "No fish here," he says, placing a card face down. "Go Fish." Plankton's antennas twitch rapidly as he processes the new information, his brain working to keep up with the game's flow. "Go Fish," he repeats, his voice gaining confidence with each exchange. Sponge Bob's eyes widen slightly but he nods along, playing his part. "Okay, Plankton," he says, placing a card on the pile. "Your turn." Plankton's antennas wobble as he considers his next move. "Got any fish?" he asks again, his voice a mix of excitement and challenge. Sponge Bob's smile becomes a bit forced. "Nope," he says, his voice still cheerful. "Go Fish." Plankton's eye dart to the cards in his hand, then back to Sponge Bob. His antennas wave erratically as he tries to formulate his next question. "Got any...?" Sponge Bob waits patiently, his heart aching for his friend. He's never seen Plankton like this before, for SpongeBob doesn't know about the accident nor the diagnosis. "Got any fish?" Plankton's words echo in the silence of the room. Sponge Bob's confusion mounts as he looks into his friend's eye, searching for a clue to what's going on. "No, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice strained. "I don't have any fish." Plankton's antennas drop slightly, his expression one of disappointment. "Go Fish," he murmurs, his gaze drifting to the card pile. Sponge Bob's heart aches as he watches his friend, trying to understand this new, strange behavior. "Do you want to play something else?" he asks, hoping to distract Plankton from his obsession with the game. But Plankton's antennas spring back to life. "More fish," he insists, his voice almost a command. Sponge Bob nods, his mind racing to comprehend what's happening. He knows Plankton's mind is sharp, so why the repetition? "Got any fish?" Plankton asks again, his voice growing more urgent. Sponge Bob's smile falters. He's never seen Plankton act this way before. The urgency in Plankton's voice, the repetition of words, it's all so strange and disconcerting. "I don't understand," he says, his voice small and unsure. "What's going on with you?" Plankton's antennas quiver slightly at Sponge Bob's question, but his eye remains fixed on the cards. "I don't understand," he says, voice soft but firm. "What's going on with you." Sponge Bob's smile falters, his eyes searching Plankton's face for answers. "It's just a game, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with concern. "You don't have to keep asking for fish." This isn't the Plankton he knows, the cunning and scheming arch-nemesis who always has a plan up his sleeve. This is someone else entirely, someone lost and confused. But Plankton doesn't seem to hear him. "Fish," he whispers, his antennas twitching in time with his words. "Got any fish?" Sponge Bob feels a knot form in his stomach. Is Plankton trying to annoy him? "Plankton, are you ok?" he asks gently, his voice filled with concern. Plankton's antennas stop twitching for a moment, his gaze meeting Sponge Bob's. "Plankton are you ok," he echoes, his eye searching Sponge Bob's for a clue. "Fish." Sponge Bob's brow furrows deeper, his confusion growing. "You don't have to keep asking for fish, Plankton," he says again. But Plankton's mind is stuck on the pattern, his voice insistent. "Fish," he repeats. Sponge Bob's now getting irritated. The echoing of his words, the intense stare, and the persistent demand for "fish" are unlike anything he's ever seen. "Plankton, please," he says, his voice tight with frustration. "I don't have any fish. Let's play a different game." But Plankton's antennas only wiggle more rapidly. "Fish," he insists. "Got any fish?" Sponge Bob's patience is wearing thin, his cheery demeanor slipping away. "I said no!" he snaps, his voice a little too loud. Plankton recoils at the sudden change in tone, his antennas drooping. "Fish?" he whispers, his voice filled with uncertainty. Sponge Bob's eyes widen with regret at his outburst. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, his voice softening. "I didn't mean to yell. But Plankton, I don't have any more fish!" Plankton's antennas sag, and his eye becomes unfocused. "No fish," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. Sponge Bob's never seen Plankton like this, his behavior so repetitive and unresponsive to his words. It was as if the game had become the center of Plankton's entire world, and Sponge Bob's refusal to play along had shattered it. "I'm sorry, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice trembling with frustration. "I just don't understand why you're so obsessed with fish." Plankton looks up, his eye meeting Sponge Bob's, a hint of hurt flickering across his expression. "Fish," he says again, his voice smaller this time. "Need fish." Sponge Bob sighs, his hands going to his face. "Ok," he says, his voice muffled. "Let's just finish this game."

THE LIFE OF UNITY iv (Autistic author) Kevin's smirk is long gone, replaced by a look of shock and regret. "I... I had no idea," he stammers. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know." Plankton's antennae quiver. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you hurt Plankton." Sponge Bob's protectively around Plankton, who is now visibly upset. "You hurt Plankton's feelings," he says, his voice firm but not unkind. "You see, Plankton had an accident. He's not the same as before. He nearly broke his skull on a cash register at the Krusty Krab. It changed him." Kevin's expression shifts from shock to disbelief. "What do you mean, 'changed him'?" he asks, his tentacles quivering slightly. "He has autism now," Sponge Bob says simply, never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "It's ok, Plankton," he murmurs, tightening around the tiny plankton. "You're still you." Kevin's eyes widen, the reality of the situation sinking in. "Oh my...," he whispers, his tentacles dropping to his sides. "I had no idea." Plankton's voice filled with accusation. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you didn't know. You didn't care." Kevin's eyes are wide. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's cutting off Kevin's apology. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye flashing with pain. "Kevin not care." "I'm sorry, Plankton. I didn't mean to be so cruel." But Plankton's unyielding. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye still brimming with unshed tears. "You didn't know. You no care." Kevin's smugness evaporates as the weight of his own words crashes down on him. The realization that his careless jests have caused such pain is written all over his face. His eyes are wide with horror, his tentacles trembling. "I'm sorry," he whispers, starting to touch Plankton. But Plankton recoils at the touch, his antennae quivering violently, his monotone voice filled with panic. "NO!" he squeaks, his one eye wide with fear. "Kevin, no touch!" Kevin's tentacles jerk back as if burned, his eyes filled with shock and remorse. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, his voice thick with regret. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to..." "Kevin, no touch," he repeats, his one eye flashing. "Plankton not like that." "I didn't know," he whispers, his eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "I'm so sorry." But Plankton's antennae continue to quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of the fear he feels. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye fixed on the sea cucumber, "you didn't know. You don't care." Sponge Bob's placing himself between Plankton and the sea cucumber. "Kevin," he says firmly with a newfound resolve. "You need to apologize to Plankton. What you said was not okay." Kevin's tentacles quiver, his eyes darting from Sponge Bob to Plankton's trembling form. "I'm... I'm sorry," he stammers, his smugness replaced by genuine contrition. "I didn't know. I didn't mean it like that." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and sadness, his monotone voice still echoing the pain of the insult. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye narrowed, "you hurt Plankton." Kevin's expression falls, the full impact of his words hitting him like a brick wall. He takes a step back, his tentacles drooping. "I didn't know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had... you know." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and pain. "Kevin," he murmurs, his monotone voice strained. "Kevin hurt Plankton. Not funny." Kevin's tentacles twitch, his expression a mix of shock and discomfort. "Look, I didn't know," he says, his voice quivering. "I'm sorry. I just..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and sadness, his monotone voice cutting through the awkward silence. "Space," he murmurs, his one eye pleading. Kevin creeps up closer. "Space? What..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and fear, his monotone voice a sad echo of the pain Kevin's words have caused. "Plankton," he murmurs, his one eye wide with desperation. "Alone." Kevin still doesn't understand. "You're not alone," he starts, reaching out. But Plankton's antennae quiver more fiercely, his monotone voice filled with a rare urgency. "No," he murmurs, his one eye darting around. "Space." "I don't underst--" But Plankton's filled with a desperation Kevin had never heard before. "Space," he murmurs again, more forcefully this time. "Kevin, go." "Go to outer space? But..." "Space," Plankton repeats more insistently, his eye frantic. Kevin's with confusion. "But, Plankton we're in the middle of the jellyfish fields." But Plankton's antennae quiver with urgency, his monotone voice unwavering. "Space," he murmurs, his one eye pleading. "Now." "I don't..." Kevin starts, grabbing Plankton's hand. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, and he pulls away, his monotone voice rising. "SPACE!" he shouts, his eye flashing with fury. Startled, Kevin takes a step back. "Where in outer space?" But Plankton's antennae quiver with impatience, his monotone voice tight. "Any space," he cries. "Just go." Kevin's tentacles twitch, his smugness forgotten. "But... but what about the jellyfish? Oh do you mean any planet.." He says, absent mindedly putting his hand on Plankton's back. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, and he jumps away. "NO TOUCH!" he screams, his monotone voice cracking with emotion. "PLANKTON. NEED. SPACE!" Kevin's tentacles recoil as if stung, his eyes wide with shock. "I'm sorry," he stammers, taking a step back. "I can't fly a rocket to space.." But Plankton's antennae quiver with rage. "Any space," he repeats, his one eye glaring. "Away." Kevin's tentacles hang limp, his smugness shattered by the depth of Plankton's pain. "But, Plankton, we can't leave Earth without..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with fury, his monotone voice a whip crack. "Any space," he repeats, his one eye narrowed. "Now." Kevin's tentacles retract, his smugness gone. "Any planet other than Earth? I'd like to help but..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with frustration, his monotone voice cutting through the confusion. "Not space," he murmurs, his one eye blazing with anger. "Space." Kevin's tentacles tremble, his smile fading into a look of fear. "I can't get outer space without a rocket?" he says, taking a step back. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, his monotone voice a thunderclap in the stillness. "No rocket," he murmurs, his one eye flashing. "Space. Now." Kevin's tentacles quiver, his smugness replaced by fear. "But Plankton," he stammers, taking a step back, "we can't just go to space without..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with rage, his monotone voice a whip crack. "Space," he repeats, his one eye narrowed. "Now." Kevin's tentacles retreat, his smugness replaced by a look of pure terror. "But Plankton, I can't just leave the sea," he says, his voice shaking. But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and desperation, his monotone voice a thunderclap in the quiet waters. "Space," he repeats unwavering. Kevin's tentacles retreat, his smugness replaced by a look of fear as he tries to comprehend Plankton's words. "But Plankton," he stammers, "you can't survive in space. It's not possible." But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, his monotone voice a monotone shout. "Space," he repeats, his one eye flashing with desperation. "Away from here." Kevin's tentacles retract, his smugness dissolving in to confusion. "But Plankton, we're in the middle of jellyfish fields," he says, his voice trembling. "We can't just..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and desperation, his monotone voice a monotone shout. "SPACE!" he repeats, his one eye flashing. "Kevin go now!" Kevin's tentacles twitch, his smugness dissipating like smoke in the face of Plankton's distress. "But Plankton I don't..." he starts, taking a cautious step back. Plankton breathes in and gathers his words together, his antennae quivering with the effort of controlling his emotions. "Kevin JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shouts, his monotone voice crackling with anger. Kevin's tentacles quiver in understanding, his smugness evaporating like mist in the sun. "Oh," he says, his voice small and sad. "You mean personal space.." Plankton's antennae quiver slightly, his monotone voice softening. "Yes," he murmurs, his one eye blinking rapidly. "Space." Sponge Bob nods. "Okay, Kevin," he says firmly. "You need to give Plankton some space right now. He's going through a tough time." Kevin's smugness is completely gone, replaced by a look of genuine concern. He takes a step back. "I had no idea," he whispers. "I'm really sorry. I'll go. Bye."

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS viii (Autistic Author) They sit in silence for a few moments, the sound of Plankton's slowing breaths filling the space. Karen's mind races with the conversation they need to have with Chip. "How do we explain it?" Plankton asks, finally breaking the silence. His antennae still, his eye looking at the floor. "We tell him the truth," Karen says firmly. "But we also remind him of all the wonderful things you do for him, all the ways you show him love." Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping further. "I know I'm not the dad he deserves," he murmurs. Karen's voice is firm, but filled with warmth. "You are the dad he needs," she corrects. "And we'll get through this together." Finally, Plankton's antennae perk up slightly. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice still thick with emotion. Karen nods. "I know," she says softly. "But we can't keep hiding this from him. He needs to understand." Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping. "I know," he admits. "I just don't know where to start." Karen gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "We'll start by talking to him," she says, her voice strong and reassuring. "When you're ready." They sit there for a while longer, the rhythm of Plankton's breathing slowly returning to normal. Karen's mind is racing with thoughts of how to navigate this chapter in their lives. How to help Chip understand his father's condition without scaring him or making him feel responsible. Finally, Plankton turns to her, his antennae still shaky. "What do we do now?" he asks, his voice a mix of exhaustion and fear. Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes filled with resolve. "First," she says, "we make sure you're ok." They sit there, the only sound in the room the distant hum of the TV. Plankton's antennae are still, his eye focused on the floor. Karen's hand remains on his back, a silent promise that she's there for him. "Let's get you to bed," she says softly. "You need to rest." With her help, Plankton stands, his legs wobbly from the intense episode. Together, they make their way to their bedroom, the quiet of the house a stark contrast to the emotional upheaval they've just experienced. Once Plankton is tucked into bed, Karen sits beside him, her hand resting on his arm. "We'll get through this," she says, her voice a gentle reassurance in the stillness. "We're a family." Plankton's antennae twitch with a hint of doubt, and he looks up at her, his eye searching hers for understanding. "But what if I can't?" Karen's gaze is unwavering. "You can," she says firmly. "You're strong, Plankton. And we're here to help you." Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods slowly. "Ok," he whispers. "Ok." Karen leans in, kissing his forehead. "Rest," she says. "We'll talk more tomorrow." With a nod, Plankton closes his eye, and Karen slips out of the room, leaving the door open a crack. She heads to Chip's room, heavy with the weight of the conversation they need to have. Chip is lying on his bed, his small form wrapped in a blanket, staring at the ceiling. His eyes are red, and he looks up as Karen enters. "Hey, buddy," she says softly, sitting beside him. "Can we talk?" Chip nods, his eyes still wet with tears. "What's wrong with Daddy?" he asks, his voice shaky. Karen takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "Daddy has something called Autism, sweetie," she says, her voice gentle. "It makes his brain work a bit differently from ours. Sometimes, when he's really upset or overwhelmed, his body can react in ways that might seem strange or scary." Chip's eyes are wide with curiosity, and he nods slowly. "Is that why he gets so mad?" he asks. Karen takes a moment before responding. "Sometimes, yes," she says. "It's his way of dealing with big feelings. But it's not because he's mad at you, ok?" Chip nods, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "But why does he get so mad?" he asks again, his voice quivering. Karen sighs, her hand stroking him. "Daddy gets overwhelmed by his feelings, and it's hard for him to express them," she explains. "Sometimes, when he can't find the right words or when things get too much, he feels like he's going to break apart. That's what we call a meltdown." Chip sniffs, his eyes glued to the ceiling. "It's like when I'm really sad and I don't want to talk?" Karen nods, her heart swelling with love for her son's empathy. "Exactly," she says. "And just like you, Daddy needs some space when that happens." Chip looks at her, his eyes serious. "But what if I want to show him my affection?" Karen smiles sadly. "You can, Chip," she says. "Just remember to be gentle, and maybe use words or gestures that aren't to overwhelming for him." Chip nods, his eyes still on the ceiling. "But what if I make it worse?" he whispers. Karen's heart clenches at his fear, and she takes his hand in hers. "Sometimes, we just need to learn new ways to show and receive love." Chip nods, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Ok," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen leans in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "You're brave," she says, her voice filled with pride. "But what about the rock he broke?" Chip asks, his voice still shaky. Karen sighs, her eyes meeting his. "Daddy didn't mean to scare you," she says. "Sometimes, when people are upset, they do things they don't mean to. It's part of how they cope." Chip nods, his grip on her hand tightening. "But Dad now," he says again, his voice small. "We'll give him some time to rest," Karen assures him. "And tomorrow, we'll talk about it more." With that, she tucks the blanket around him and turns to leave. As she reaches the door, Chip's voice stops her. "Mom," he says, his tone tentative. "Can I go to Daddy?" Karen's heart skips a beat, and she looks back at him, her eyes filled with both concern and hope. "Do you think that's a good idea, sweetie?" Chip nods. "I want to tell him I love him," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's heart squeezes. "Ok," she says, taking a deep breath. "But remember, we need to be gentle with him right now. Let's go to his room together." They tiptoe down the hall, the house eerily quiet. Karen can feel Chip's hand in hers, small and warm and trembling slightly. When they reach the bedroom, she opens the door quietly and peeks in. Plankton is lying on his back, his antennae still, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. They approach the bed, and Karen can see the tension in Plankton's body, even in sleep. She whispers to Chip, "Remember, sweetie, just a little. And if he wakes up, tell him you love him." Chip nods solemnly, and together, they tiptoe to the bedside. Chip extends a tentative hand and gently pats Plankton's arm. Plankton's antennae twitch, but he doesn't wake. "I love you, Daddy," Chip whispers, his voice quivering. Karen's eyes fill with tears at the sight of her son's bravery and love. She gives Chip's hand a squeeze. "That was perfect," she says, her voice barely a murmur. They stand there for a moment, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall in the dim light of the moon peeking through the curtains. Then, with a heavy heart, Karen leads Chip back to his room. Once Chip is tucked in, she kisses his forehead and whispers, "You're a brave boy, and I'm so proud of you." His eyes, still red and swollen from crying, meet hers with a quiet understanding beyond his years.

I V X L C D M 1 5 10 50 100 500 1000 🔢 Individual decimal places Thousands Hundreds Tens Units 1 M C X I 2 MM CC XX II 3 MMM CCC XXX III 4 CD XL IV 5 D L V 6 DC LX VI 7 DCC LXX VII 8 DCCC LXXX VIII 9 CM XC IX

7 🦋⃤.

⃤🤍 triangle 🧠

🪐

77️7️7️

😈

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡triangle▼🔼◀ ▶🔵✅⛛▶▶(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡🔲📐⚫

🌊〰

👑+🔺

yall can we actually stop this beef like rn? i am T.I.R.E.D. of seeing ALL THESE PEOPLE BE LIKE: "spread the word! save palestine!" THIS IS AN EMOTICON KIND OF WEBSITE. NOT TO SPREAD THE WORD ABOUT WAR KIND OF WEBSITE. and anyway, if you say STOP THE WAR!!!! on an emoticon website, i dont think the president of Israel is gonna read your paragraph and say "oh yea, what im doing is bad, ill stop right now and everything will be good". "stop posting NSFW there are kids on this site!!!" SHUT THE FUCK UP. 6-8 year olds dont even know what emojicombos.com is, and they DEFINETELY dont even know what NSFW stands for. they prob gon be like "NSFW? what the heck? does it mean No Swearing For Wood?" right now, in 2024, 6-8 year olds are watching their cartoons instead of going on emojicombos.com and searching up "NSFW / SEX / SUSSY BAKA". they are literally worrying about their slice of leftover cake getting stolen by their older siblings and not porn content made out of dots. be fr rn, there arent anyone younger than 9 (prob) on this site. and i am literally looking for bios, combos, emojis, not DRAMA. like go and watch Total Drama if youre looking for drama/are a drama king/queen (SUCH a good show btw, used to be my fav i was so addicted to it).

8ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁☾

🤟✅🇧🇷▶

😍+🔺

1898🇧 🇲 🇼

4️5️

11:11

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

Loading ↻

i think everybody knows about palestine atp...!!!!!1

DDLR1️⃣❶💡🤝⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸⁹

⋮

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠶⠞⢯⢹⠖⠑⢾⠩⠗⠒⠤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠒⠒⠺⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠗⠚⠙⠒⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠤⣜⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠤⢄⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠀⠀⢸⡧⠤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠀⠈⠓⠈⠀⢠⠤⢤⠤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡔⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠑⠒⠲⠶⠤⠤⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡼⡆⣠⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠈⠁⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⢀⠾⡇⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠤⠤⠴⠶⠒⠒⠋⠉⠉⠉⠑⢦ ⢇⠀⢠⡊⠉⠉⠉⠒⠲⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢙⡷⠶⠧⠼⣇⢠⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⣸⠠⠞⠒⢻⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠤⠴⠒⠒⠒⢤⠀⠀⢸ ⠘⣇⠀⢣⠀⠀⠤⣀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠢⣄⠀⠀⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡉⠓⠒⠀⠐⠒⠛⠂⠒⠛⠒⠒⠛⠃⠤⠄⠒⠚⠒⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⣇⠀⠀⢀⡤⠖⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀⣠⠇ ⠀⠘⢧⡀⠳⣄⠀⠀⣌⠓⠢⣄⡀⠈⠳⣴⠁⠀⣀⠀⣢⠤⠤⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣄⠔⠋⢀⣠⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⡰⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⣌⠓⠤⣀⠙⠒⣦⡬⠵⠦⣽⠀⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠀⠀⠀⢈⣏⡴⠾⠵⠖⠒⠋⠉⣀⡤⠞⣁⡴⠚⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⠦⣍⣑⡒⠛⠿⠯⢽⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠄⠀⢸⡧⠤⠶⠶⠒⠒⣊⣉⡥⠶⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠻⡄⠀⢈⣶⣞⠋⢀⠨⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣭⣻⣷⣟⡀⠀⢸⠒⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⠀⠀⢸⣼⢑⠆⢡⢹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠸⠞⢐⠐⢘⣾⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠁⠡⠠⠻⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠘⠿⠿⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠷⣦⣀⣠⣴⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣴⠀⠀⠀⢹⠉⠀⠀⠀⡶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠶⣄⣀⣸⣀⣀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠖⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣏⡅⠀⠀⠉⠓⠶⠤⣀⣀⡈⠢⢌⣁⣉⣉⠤⢊⣀⣀⠤⠶⠊⠉⠀⠀⢈⢳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣏⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢸⣰⡼⣱⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⢑⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠃⠃⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡀⢈⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢢⠀⢀⡤⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⢦⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⣶⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⢈⠀⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠓⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠂⠀⠀⠀⠹⣶⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠟⢰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⡀⡄⠸⣼⡀⢇⢠⣠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⣦⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡆⠈⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠀⢸⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⢁⡀⠈⠉⠈⠓⠛⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢈⣦⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⡿⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠁⠀⠈⡃⠀⠀⠀⠸⠁⠀⠀⠘⠻⣧⣠⣠⢀⠠⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢈⡼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡃⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢧⡤⠀⠀⢸⣠⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠙⠯⠙⠧⠽⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢄⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⠉⢧⡘⢆⠰⣄⠀⠐⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⣸⡀⠀⢱⡊⠓⠬⡓⠤⣄⠑⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⢀⡆⣠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⣄⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣦⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠓⠦⠼⣾⣄⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⢀⢀⡀⢀⡀⡀⠀⠀⣰⠀⠀⠀⣠⣷⡧⠴⠚⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠦⣭⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⡦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢌⡝⠓⠚⣋⡟⡟⠛⠋⠙⠋⠙⠛⢻⢻⣙⠓⠛⡫⡁⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⡐⢴⣒⣴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠽⠯⡄⣇⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠈⠛⠭⠽⠋⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠻⠥⠭⠚⠁⡇⠠⡄⠆⡄⠀⠢⣑⣬⣥⡶⣯⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣖⣒⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠚⠿⡦⣄⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠐⣧⣀⣏⣒⣶⠞⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠩⢉⣒⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣻⠿⠖⠦⡀⠀⠠⡰⡐⡹⣷⢱⢹⣳⣄⡘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡯⣵⡾⣁⠀⣿⣮⡆⣄⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠒⠛⠻⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⣡⡴⠒⠋⠁⠙⡆⠀⢹⢳⡇⣿⠼⠛⠁⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠘⣼⣄⢶⣼⣄⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠁⠀⠈⠙⠻⢿⡿⡀⠁⠀⠀⡞⠀⠐⠒⠠⡀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡜⠠⠔⠒⠒⢀⡿⠀⠚⣫⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢏⠉⠛⢻⡟⠛⠋⢹⠛⠛⠚⠛⠛⠉⡏⠙⠛⢳⡞⠛⠉⡝⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢭⣀⠀⠰⣄⠑⠤⣀⣀⠈⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢲⣤⣤⢶⡭⠖⠒⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣦⣀⣸⣧⣀⣠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣄⣀⣼⣇⣀⣴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠳⣮⡷⠶⣤⡶⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀

🍥

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY iv (Autistic author) The front door clicked open, and Hanna poked her head in, expression uncertain. "Hi! Is he ok?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Come in," Karen called out softly, noticing Hanna's worried features. Hanna stepped into the room, her movements cautious. Plankton rocked slightly in his chair, a subtle motion that Karen recognized as his way of self-soothing. It was a stimming behavior, something he does now. Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton, her gaze questioning. Karen nodded reassuringly. "He's okay," she whispered. "He just needs a moment." Plankton sat in his chair, his body moving gently in a rhythmic rock. It was a new behavior, one he'd developed since the diagnosis. Karen had read about stimming in her research and knew it helped him to regulate his sensory input. Hanna, who had returned with a cautious hopefulness, took a seat across from them, curious as she watched Plankton's movements. "What's he doing?" Hanna asked softly, her voice filled with concern. Karen glanced at Plankton, his body swaying gently in the chair. "It's called stimming," she explained calmly. "Plankton, Hanna's here. Do you want to tell her about what's happened with you?" He stopped rocking, his antennae twitching. He took a deep breath and nodded slightly. Hanna leaned in, her eyes full of sympathy. "What happened, Plankton?" she asked gently. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae still. "Plankton... autistic," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Hanna's expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What does that mean?" she whispered. Karen took a deep breath, preparing to explain. "It means his brain works differently now. He's more sensitive to sounds, textures, lights, everything. And sometimes, it's just too much." Hanna's eyes widened, her grip on the chair tightening. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to his trembling hands. "Fight," he began, his voice still a whisper. "With Krabs." Her screen filled with understanding, the pieces falling into place. "The fight gave you...this?" she asked, her voice tentative. Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching slightly. "Krabs hit head," he murmured. "Too much." The words were simple, but clear. Hanna's eyes filled with tears as she looked from Karen to Plankton. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered. "I had no idea." Plankton nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on his hands. Karen watched his struggle to communicate, her heart breaking for him. She knew autism was a part of him now. Hanna reached out tentatively, her hand hovering over Plankton's shoulder. "Can I...?" But Plankton flinched, his antennae shooting up. "No," he murmured, his voice strained. Hanna's hand hovered in midair, uncertain. She looked to Karen for guidance. Karen's expression was sad, but firm. "He's touch averse now, Hanna," she said gently. "It's part of his condition. But thanks for asking." Hanna nodded, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. She could see the fear in his eye, the way he shied away from her touch. She felt a pang of regret for her earlier behavior. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice filled with sincerity. "I'd never hurt you.." Plankton's gaze remained on the floor. "No touch," he said firmly, his voice shaky but determined. Hanna nodded, her hand dropping back to her side. "Okay," she whispered, respect in her tone. "I'll remember." The doorbell rang, a sharp intrusion into the quiet of their makeshift sanctuary. Plankton's head snapped up, his antennae quivering with the sudden noise. Karen stood quickly, moving to the door. "I'll get it," she murmured to Plankton, her hand on the doorknob. "Remember, it's okay." Plankton nodded, his antennae still. The door swung open to reveal Karen's gal pal Sandy, face lit up with a smile. "Surprise!" she exclaimed, her voice too loud for Plankton's heightened hearing. Sandy didn't notice the tension in the room, her eyes bright with excitement. "I brought cookies!" she chirped, holding out a plate of sugary goodies. Plankton flinched at the sound of her voice, the sudden change in environment jolting his senses. He felt his heart rate spike, his body preparing for fight or flight. Sandy saw Karen and Hanna sitting in front of Plankton. Sandy knew Plankton's always a loner, so she didn't catch on, nor does she know about what happened to him this week. "Hi Plankton!" she said cheerfully, completely unaware of the sensory minefield she'd just stumbled into. Plankton's antennae twitched with discomfort, the sudden burst of sensory input overwhelming him. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain composure. "Hi, Sandy," Karen said, her smile forced. She took the plate of cookies, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Thanks for the surprise." But Sandy's gaze was on Plankton, who sat stiffly in his chair. "Howdy," she said, her voice a little too bright. "How are you?" Plankton didn't look up, his body tense. "Why ain't ya talking?" Sandy asked, her cheerfulness fading. Plankton's antennae twitched, his body tightening. "Sandy," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Sandy's smile faltered, her eyes narrowing. "What's with you?" she snapped, her voice sharp. "You're acting weird!" Plankton flinched at the harsh tone, his antennae drooping. He couldn't explain, not with words that made sense to him. "No." He says. Sandy's smile disappeared, replaced by a scowl. "What do you mean, 'no'?" she demanded. "I don't get it, why are you being so rude, even for you?" Her voice was loud. Plankton's eye darted around the room, searching for an escape from the confrontation. He felt the familiar panic rising, his heart beating faster. But Sandy wasn't having it. "You usually got a lot to say, Plankton," she said, her tone accusatory. "What's wrong with you?" Plankton's antennae flattened against his head, his eye darting nervously around the room. He could feel the pressure building, his ability to communicate slipping away under the weight of her frustration. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice a mere whisper. Sandy's frown deepened. "Sorry? What for? You're acting like a sulfur-brain, Plankton!" Her words were a slap to his face, each syllable a jab at his already fragile state. "Can't ya at least say hi back‽" She demanded. "Hi back." Plankton replied. Sandy thought he's trying to be rude. "You're always so full of it, but now you can't even bother to talk?" Her words cut through the tension like a knife, slicing into the quiet sanctuary they had built. Plankton's antennae twitched erratically, a silent testament to his rising anxiety. But Sandy was on a roll, her frustration with his lack of response fueling her accusations. "You know what? Forget it," she huffed, throwing the cookies down right in front of Plankton. The sharp clatter of the plate was like a gunshot to his overstimulated senses. He flinched, his antennae shooting straight up. "It's like you're not even trying!" Sandy's voice was a whirlwind of accusation. Plankton felt his control slipping, his thoughts racing. "Sandy," he tried again, his voice strained. "Plankton not good now." But Sandy's irritation had turned to anger. "What's your problem, Plankton? You've always been a tiny troublemaker, but now you can't even have a simple conversation?" The room grew tense, and Plankton started rocking trying not to let the tears in his eye fall. Sandy's eyes narrowed, her frustration with Plankton's new behaviors growing. "What's with the rocking?" she snapped. Plankton's rocking grew more pronounced, his antennae twitching rapidly. Sandy got even more annoyed. Her voice grew louder. "Stop that!" she barked, startling Plankton more. He stopped rocking but he starts shaking. Sandy's fury was a storm, her words stinging like hailstones. "Why are you acting so crazy?" she demanded, her voice laced with disgust. Plankton's antennae drooped, his body trembling. The room was too loud, too bright, too much. Sandy's tone grew sharper, her frustration palpable. "What's gotten into you, Plankton?" she snapped. "You're acting like you're not even here!" Plankton's eye darted to Karen, his silent plea for help evident. Karen took a deep breath, stepping into the fray. "Sandy, I need to tell you something," Karen began, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her. "There's something we need you to know." Sandy's scowl didn't fade. "What could possibly be more important than a simple hello?" she spat out. Karen took a deep breath, her hands clenched into fists at her side. "It's not simple, Sandy," she began, her voice tight. "Plankton had an accident. A really bad one." Sandy's expression morphed from anger to confusion. "What do you mean, an accident?" she asked, her voice softening slightly. Karen's screen was a mix of sadness and determination. "He got into a fight with Mr. Krabs," she said, her voice measured. "And he hit his head. Hard. It... changed him. Plankton's been diagnosed with autism, Sandy," she said gently. Sandy's expression went from confusion to shock. "What?" she whispered, her anger forgotten. Sandy looked at Plankton, his antennae drooping, his body shaking. Her eyes filled with horror as she took in the scene before her. "Oh my stars," she breathed, her hands reaching out. But he shrank away from her. "No touch," Plankton murmured, his body curling inward, antennae quivered with anxiety. Her heart sank. "Oh, Plankton," she murmured, her voice filled with regret.

♦️

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢼⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⠀⠈⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠃⣠⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⢤⣤⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡉⠁⠀⠀⠰⣤⣀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡶⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡏⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠹⣿⣷⣤⣀⣀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⣤⣤⣾⣿⡟⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠘⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣇⣀⣹⣿⠿⠿⠟⠛⣿⡟⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡘⢿⡶⢤⣀⣀⣀⣉⣉⣁⣀⣀⣠⣴⣾⡟⢁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡌⠁⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠉⢹⠟⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤ ⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⣸⣿⣿⣧⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM viii (Autistic author) Plankton's antennas lift slightly. "Game," he whispers, his voice shaking. "Just game." Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow, his claws tense. "If it's just a game, then why are you acting so strange?" he snaps at Plankton. Plankton's antennas wobble with effort to maintain control. "Because," he starts, his voice shaky, "Plankton... different." Mr. Krabs stares at Sponge Bob, his expression unyielding. "Different?" he echoes, his eyes darting to Plankton, then back to his employee. Sponge Bob nods, his voice trembling. "Yes, Mr. Krabs, Plankton's been through something that's changed him." He looks at Karen for support, but she stays silent, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and hope. Mr. Krabs crosses his arms, his eyebrow quivering with skepticism. "What do you mean, changed him?" he asks. "Is he trying to steal the Krabby Patty formular again?" Sponge Bob's frustration rises. "No, Mr. Krabs," he says, his voice steady. "It's not like that. Plankton has... a condition." Mr. Krabs' skepticism turns to curiosity. "Condition?" he repeats, his voice softer. Sponge Bob nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. "He's been diagnosed with acquired autism," he explains, his voice barely above a whisper. Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, his mouth dropping open as the words sink in. He turns to Karen, his gaze demanding confirmation. "Is it true?" he asks, his voice gruff. Karen nods solemnly, her circuits flickering with a mix of sadness and hope. "Yes," she says gently. "Plankton has an acquired form of autism." Mr. Krabs' expression shifts from skepticism to shock. He looks at Plankton. "Autism?" he repeats, his voice barely above a murmur. "But... but how?" Karen's LED lights dim slightly. "I don't think he'd like to answer that question" she says, her voice clinical. "It's caused a significant shift in his neural functioning." Mr. Krabs' gaze remains on Plankton, his expression one of dawning understanding. "Was me fry pan..." he starts, his voice trailing off. Plankton's antennas drop, and he nods slowly. "Yes," he whispers. "Krabs pan." Mr. Krabs' face crumbles, his claws clenching into fists. "I didn't mean to," he stammers, his voice choking with regret. "I was just trying to keep me formular safe." Plankton's antennas twitch, his single eye welling with unshed tears. Mr. Krabs' guilt is palpable, his eyes swimming with remorse. "I'm sorry, Plankton," he says hoarsely. "I had no idea." But Plankton's gaze doesn't soften. His stare is unyielding, his voice cold. "Sorry not enough," he says, his words clipped. "Hurt, Mr. Krabs hurt Plankton bad." Mr. Krabs' heart squeezes at the accusation in Plankton's voice. He's never heard him speak like this before, with such raw emotion. "I know," he says remorsefully, his voice cracking. "I know I hurt you, Plankton. I'm so, so sorry." But Plankton's unforgiving gaze doesn't waver. "No," he insists, his voice still cold. "Not just sorry. Mr. Krabs must understand." Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes brimming with tears. "I do," he chokes out. "I understand. What can I do to help?" Plankton's antennas still don't move, his expression unreadable. Mr. Krabs' reaches for Plankton's shoulder. That's the last straw. With a burst of energy, Plankton pushes away the clawed hand. "No touch," he snaps, his voice cold. "Mr. Krabs not understand." His words are like shards of ice, each one cutting deeper into Mr. Krabs' guilt. Mr. Krabs' face falls, his hand retreating quickly. "But I do," he insists, his voice desperate. "I swear, Plankton, I do." But Plankton's expression remains stony, his antennas rigid. "No," he says simply. "Krabs don't." His voice is a knife, slicing through the tension in the room. Mr. Krabs' eyes water, his heart heavy with regret. "I swear, Plankton," he pleads. "I'll do anything to make it right." But Plankton's gaze remains steady, his unforgiving gaze bearing into Mr. Krabs' soul. "Make right?" he echoes. "Cannot make right. Cannot change. Krabs fault." Mr. Krabs' shoulders sag with the weight of Plankton's words. He knows his rival is right; he can't reverse what's been done, no matter how much he wishes it. "But I want to help," he says desperately. "Please, tell me how..." But Plankton's expression is a mask of coldness, his antennas unyielding. "Help?" he echoes, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Krabs can't help." His gaze slides to the discarded chessboard, his eyes lingering on the scattered pieces. "Too late." Mr. Krabs' shoulders sag with the weight of Plankton's rejection. "Please," he says desperately. "I didn't know. I just want to make it better." But Plankton's unforgiving gaze doesn't falter. His stare is a mirror reflecting Mr. Krabs' own guilt and regret. "Better?" he repeats, his voice devoid of emotion. "Cannot be. No cure. Just stop." Mr. Krabs' eyes well with tears, his heart aching with the pain of his mistake. "But I want to fix it," he says pleadingly. "I want to make it right." But Plankton's gaze doesn't soften. "No fix," he says flatly. "Cannot change what is." His single eye seems to bore into Mr. Krabs, his voice unyielding. "Krabs hurt Plankton. Krabs must live with." Mr. Krabs hangs his head, his shoulders heaving with sobs. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice breaking. "I'll do anything." But Plankton simply shakes his head, his antennas still. "Cannot change," he murmurs. "Must live with." His eye are empty, devoid of the malicious spark that once fueled his quest for the Krabby Patty formula. Normally Plankton would love to cause such a reaction out of Mr. Krabs. Mr. Krabs' sobs grow louder, his guilt consuming him. "But I didn't mean to," he wails. "It was just a mistake." Plankton's antennas twitch slightly. "Mistake," he echoes, his voice still cold. "Mistake not enough." His eye are unrelenting, his stare piercing through Mr. Krabs' soul. "You hurt me," he says, his words a quiet thunder clap in the tense silence. "Mistake changed me." Mr. Krabs looks up, his eyes red with tears. "I know," he says, his voice thick with regret. "I know I hurt you, Plankton. Yet I didn't know how bad..." But Plankton's expression is one of resentment, his antennas twitching with anger. "Hurt," he says, his voice cold. "Krabs hurt Plankton. Krabs must understand." His gaze doesn't waver from Mr. Krabs, his accusation hangs in the air like a heavy fog. Mr. Krabs' sobs quiet, his eyes swimming with regret. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. "I do underst--" "No," Plankton interrupts, his voice like a whip. "You don't." His antennas wave with agitation, his eye flashing with a cold fire. "You don't understand pain." His words are sharp, cutting through Mr. Krabs' protests. Mr. Krabs' expression falls, his claws trembling. "I see that now," he whispers, his voice racked with emotion. "But what can I do?" His desperation is clear, his eyes searching Plankton's face for any sign of forgiveness. "I'd even give you a krabby patty.." But Plankton's expression doesn't change. His antennas remain rigid, his eye still cold. "Krabby Patty not fix," he says simply. "Cannot fix brain." His voice is matter-of-fact, his tone unyielding. Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, his hope dashed. "But I'll do anything," he insists, his voice desperate. But Plankton's unforgiving gaze remains unmoved. "Anything?" he repeats, his tone mocking. "Can you give me back my mind?" His antennas wave in frustration. "Do leave, Krabs. Can leave." Mr. Krabs' expression falls, his claws hanging limp at his sides. "But Plankton," he begs. "We can work together, I can help you get better." But Plankton's face is a wall of coldness, his antennas waving with anger. "No better," he says firmly. "Only live now." His words are a reflection of the stark reality that Mr. Krabs had ignored. Mr. Krabs' eyes fill with tears, his claws clutching at his chest. "I hurt you so badly, Plankton. But I can't live with this," he sobs. "I know Krabs sorry now. Yet I last registered Krabs laughter as I fainted from the impact. Even if Krabs didn't mean to, Krabs did. So goodbye, Eugene Krabs." The room grew silent as the gravity of Plankton's words settled heavily upon Mr. Krabs. He hadn't considered that his foolishness could lead to such a profound change in his rival. Mr. Krabs looked at Plankton, his eyes brimming with desperation. "If I can go back and sacrifice my life to..." "Can't. Perhaps can find peace but for now, goodbye." The finality in Plankton's voice was a slap to Mr. Krabs' face, his hope crumbling like sand through his claws. He staggered back, his eyes wide with shock. Sponge Bob's heart ached, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he watched the exchange unfold. He knew Mr. Krabs was suffering, but he couldn't ignore the pain in Plankton's voice either. Mr. Krabs' sobs grew louder, his body shaking with the weight of his guilt. "Please, Plankton," he begged. But Plankton's gaze remained on the chessboard, his hands tracing the pattern of the squares, his antennas were still, his body a statue of cold resolve. Mr. Krabs' sobs turned to sniffs as he took in Plankton's unyielding stance. He knew his rival well and he could see the deep-seated pain that lay beneath the surface of his words. With a heavy heart, he nodded. "I'll let ye space then. I never wanted to lose ye." Plankton turns away. Mr. Krabs' eyes grew large with sadness, his body quivering with the weight of his mistakes. "SpongeBob I'll give ye time off work as long as you need to when for Plankton. Goodbye, Plankton," he choked out. He left the chum bucket.

18+

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠠⢤⣄⣤⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣄⣤⣤⣴⣦⣤⣀⣠⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⣄⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⢟⡚⢿⠾⢦⣠⣀⠌⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣫⣿⣫⠗⠝⡫⠛⢿⡷⣄⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠃⠀⠀⠐⢀⠩⡹⢾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⢿⡷⠳⢦⠌⠀⡐⠎⡱⣿⣳⣡⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠂⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡥⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠏⢾⣷⣿⣷⢦⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⡒⠤⠀⠄⡀⢀⠀⡀⢁⠀⡸⣿⣿⣟⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣀⣀⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⢴⣥⣬⣆⣰⡀⠜⡐⣂⣁⣳⣿⡿⠽⡁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠔⠊⠈⠀⠉⠭⢿⡻⠖⠀⢀⣀⣼⢽⠳⢶⣿⡿⣿⡿⡟⢮⣿⣿⣯⣽⣟⠶⣀⢹⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⢯⠶⠲⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠒⠒⠖⠲⠦⣮⣴⣾⣯⣭⣻⣍⠶⢤⡀⡾⠟⠉⣻⠀⠉⠉⠟⠋⠀⠀⢈⠛⡿⠎⠿⣭⠛⡁⢁⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣈⡆⢠⣶⣻⠿⣿⢿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡯⣛⣓⣯⠏⢀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⡉⠑⣆⠀⢰⣈⣄⣀⠆⠀⢀⣯⡇⡼⠊⠍⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⣧⢩⡫⠁⣑⡀⢸⠿⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⢄⡉⠀⠀⣬⡿⠁⠘⣟⠿⢿⣟⣻⣟⣤⣄⣌⣉⣁⣄⣠⣾⣟⡽⣂⣔⠕⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⣨⣮⣟⣦⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡬⠟⣆⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⣄⣸⣿⣷⢯⠹⠿⠯⠿⣻⣿⣽⣿⣿⡷⠋⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣽⣾⡄⠐⡀⠁⠀⠀⠀⡐⠐⣶⡿⠋⠐⠀⠉⠛⢿⣧⢾⣿⣠⠛⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣾⠏⣹⣿⣿⣿⢿⠄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⢿⣿⡉⡎⢇⠱⠆⡀⢁⠀⠀⠀⡀⢁⢀⢹⣿⢿⠿⠿⣷⣶⣸⣾⣷⣇⡀⠀⠹⢹⡎⢇⢿⡏⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⠀⠈⠹⣟⣆⠌⠼⡅⡜⠠⠌⡐⠠⠄⠃⠌⠀⠈⠳⢌⡒⠤⠉⡭⣧⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣆⠈⡊⠙⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣦⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠰⠃⠀⠄⢀⠈⠺⣦⠀⠱⣌⢣⠓⣌⠰⡈⢒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⠽⢿⠟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠆⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⡿⣟⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠂⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢀⠄⡌⠓⣤⠘⣦⢛⡼⣣⣜⣡⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⢿⣿⣿⠇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢌⠄⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠈⠀⢂⠀⢀⠨⠳⣌⠳⣝⣳⣞⣧⢿⣭⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⣻⣿⣯⡏⢉⡍⣹⡏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⣓⢁⡂⠅⠒⣄⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⡀⠠⠀⠐⡌⠄⢻⢈⠷⣿⡾⠿⠜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⢻⣷⣿⣧⠰⡾⡻⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠋⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠕⢄⠀⠀⠄⠀⢀⠀⠉⠄⠀⠂⠃⡑⢧⡘⣟⡄⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣬⣿⣿⣧⣴⣴⠟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠁⠀⠀⠐⠀⡀⠀⠀⡀⠠⠀⠂⠀⠥⢀⠡⠑⢷⡇⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠂⠄⢀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣷⣟⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⢈⢂⢜⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡾⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡜⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠣⡄⠀⠀⠀⠄⠈⠀⠂⣀⠵⢓⣀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣁⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠜⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⢀⡀⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡖⠁⠀⣯⢩⢢⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⠞⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠐⠀⠀⠀⡤⠱⡶⡒⢎⠓⣕⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢀⡀⠁⠄⣤⠊⢀⠈⢄⠀⠑⣇⢠⠇⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠜⠊⠁⠀⠀⠑⠄⡠⠄⡀⠐⢀⠱⣄⠄⡀⠈⠢⡀⠄⠂⠑⡀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠉⣀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

😂Δ

▶• ılıılıılılılıılıılı. 0𝟖𝟖𝟖

✨💗

🧨

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY viii (Autistic author) After SpongeBob and Patrick left Plankton settled for his usual movie night. Karen took this time to call Sandy, her best friend, a gal pal. "Sandy, it's Karen," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to talk to you about something." On the other end of the line, Sandy's voice was warm and concerned. "Howdy! What's going on Karen?" "It's Plankton," Karen began. "He's... changed." Sandy's voice grew serious. "What happened Karen?" "Plankton had an accident," she said, her voice shaking. "He hit his head and... well, the doctors say he has autism now, and I thought I'd let you know." Sandy's voice was calm and understanding. "Oh Karen," she said. "I'm so sorry to hear that. How's he handling it?" Karen sighed heavily. "It's been... a lot," she admitted. "He's so focused on jellyfish now, and it's like nothing else matters. It's his whole world." "Wow, that's quite a change," Sandy said, her voice filled with empathy. "How's he been with social interactions?" "Well, that's the thing," she said. "He's been... different. Sometimes, it's like he's in his own little world. And other times, like with Patrick, he's just... really sensitive." "Patrick?" Sandy's voice was incredulous. "Patrick made fun of him?" "Well, not exactly. He just didn't understand," she explained. "He said jellyfish were boring, and it really hurt Plankton's feelings. The neurodivergence is irreversible, and he's still Plankton." Sandy's voice was filled with understanding. "But it sounds like he's found something that brings him a lot of joy." "Yeah," Karen agreed, her tentacles relaxing slightly. "But it's hard to watch him struggle, you know?" Sandy's voice was gentle. "I can imagine, Karen. But remember he's still the same Plankton at heart." The next day, Sandy arrived at the Chum Bucket, her burly squirrel arms holding a treasure trove of various miniature jellyfish figurines. She'd spent hours scouring the deepest parts of the ocean for the rarest and most detailed jellyfish models she could find. "Hi, Karen!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. Karen's eyes lit up at the sight of her friend. "Sandy, what's all this?" she asked, her tentacles waving in curiosity. "I heard about Plankton's newfound love for jellyfish," Sandy said with a grin, her cheeks red with the excitement of her discovery. "And I thought these might help him feel more connected. Where is he?" Sandy comes in. Plankton's sitting in the corner, his jellyfish book open on the floor in front of him, surrounded by a sea of scribbled notes and diagrams. His gaze didn't leave the page, but his posture straightened at the sound of a new presence in the room. "Plankton," Karen called gently, "Look who's here!" Plankton's antennae shot up as he looked over at Sandy, his eye widening at the sight of a box. "These are for you," Sandy said, setting the box down in front of him. Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he looked up, his monotone voice cracking slightly. "For Plankton?" Sandy nodded, her smile genuine. "I thought they might make you happy," she said, her voice gentle. "They're all different types of jellyfish. Each is unique and special, just like you." Plankton's antennae twitched with excitement as he reached for the box, his eye scanning its contents. "Jellyfish," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with wonder. "Thanks" Sandy watched as Plankton carefully removed each figurine, his eye lighting up with each new discovery. "You're welcome," she said, her voice warm. "I wanted to do something to support you in your newfound passion." Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he examined each jellyfish. "These are... amazing," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with awe. Sandy chuckled, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad you like them," she said, watching him closely. "They're from all over the ocean. Some of them are pretty rare." Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he examined each figure. "Rare," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a new found enthusiasm. "Rare jellyfish." Sandy nodded, her eyes bright. "Yeah, some of them are," she said, her voice filled with excitement. "Do you have a favorite type?" Plankton's antennae twitched as he thought. "Turritopsis dohrnii," he murmured. "The immortal jellyfish. It can revert back to its polyp stage and start its life cycle again." Sandy's eyes widened. "Wow, Plankton," she said, impressed. "That's really cool." Plankton looked up from the box, his antennae waving slightly. "You know jellyfish?" he asked, his voice monotone yet filled with hope. Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. "A bit," she said, her tail swishing with excitement. "But I'd love to learn more from an expert like you." Plankton's antennae quivered with a hint of pride. "Expert," he murmured, his monotone voice cracking slightly. Sandy sat down next to him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell me more about them," she urged, her voice gentle. Plankton's antennae perked up, and he began to speak with a newfound energy. "Turritopsis dohrnii," he recited, his monotone voice cracking with excitement. "It's a jellyfish that can live forever. If it's injured or stressed, it goes back to being a polyp. It's like a rebirth." Sandy leaned closer, her eyes wide with fascination. "Really?" she said, her voice filled with wonder. "That's incredible!" Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "Yes," he murmured, his monotone voice growing more animated. "Immortal jellyfish can survive forever. Plankton read in book." Sandy's eyes grew wide with amazement. "That's so fascinating, Plankton," she said, her voice filled with genuine interest. "How do they do that?" Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "When Turritopsis dohrnii is hurt, it goes back to polyp," he said, holding up a tiny figurine of the species. "Polyp is like jellyfish baby, but it's not baby. It's just jellyfish in different shape." Sandy nodded, her eyes glued to the miniature figures as Plankton spoke. "That's so amazing," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "I've never heard of anything like that before." "Jellyfish are fascinating," Plankton murmured, his antennae waving slightly as he picked up another figurine. "This one," he said, holding up a mini model of a clear jellyfish, "is called a Burgessomedusa phasmiformis." Sandy's eyes lit up. "It's like a ghost jellyfish," she said, her voice filled with excitement. "I've read about these!" "Yes," Plankton murmured, his monotone voice cracking with pride. "They're very rare and very beautiful." Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. "They are," she agreed, reaching for one of the figurines. "How did you learn so much about jellyfish?" Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he paused in his examination of the ghostly jellyfish. "Plankton read book," he murmured. Sandy nodded, her eyes still on the delicate figurine. "What else?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity. Plankton's antennae quivered as he searched his memory. "Book say... that jellyfish are ancient creatures, with some species over 500 million years old." Sandy's eyes grew wide with amazement. "Wow, Plankton," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "You really know your stuff. Can I ask a question?" Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with excitement. "Question," he murmured. Sandy took a deep breath, her eyes on the book. "What was the accident, Plankton?" she asked gently. "How did you hit your head?" Plankton's antennae drooped slightly, the excitement draining from his voice. "Krabs," he murmured, his monotone cracking. "Mr. Krabs. Angry." "What happened, Plankton?" Plankton's antennae twitched as he looked up at Sandy, his eye wide with the memory. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a sudden urgency. "Mr. Krabs slammed cash register on Plankton's head, then Plankton woke up in hospital." Sandy's smile faltered, her eyes filled with concern. "Oh Plankton," she said, her voice gentle. "Woke up," he murmured. "In hospital. Everything different." Karen looked at him, her expression gentle. "What do you remember?" Plankton paused, antennae quivering as he tried to piece together the jumbled memories. "Car," he murmured finally. "Long ride." "The hospital," Karen said, stroking his back gently. "You were in a hospital for a bit after the accident." Plankton's antennae twitched as he nodded, his monotone voice cracking. "Yes, hospital," he murmured. "Doctors talked, but Plankton didn't understand." Sandy leaned in, her eyes filled with sympathy. "They told you about your autism?" she asked softly. Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping. "Karen said it's why Plankton thinks differently," he murmured. Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. "It's okay to think differently, Plankton," she said. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "Different," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a hint of confusion. "But... Plankton good at jellyfish." Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "You are," she said, her voice firm. "And that's something amazing. Your brain works in ways that let you understand jellyfish better than anyone else." Plankton looked at her, his antennae perking up slightly. "Better than anyone?" he asked, his monotone voice filled with a hint of doubt. "Absolutely," Sandy said, her voice firm.

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY viii (Autistic author) Just as quiet settled, Krabs' booming voice filled the room. "Plankton, where are ye!" Plankton's eye flew open. Sponge Bob and Karen exchanged a worried look, knowing that Mr. Krabs' presence could easily overwhelm him, not to mention Krabs caused this. Krabs marched in, his beady eyes searching the room. "Ah, there ye be," he said, spotting the small figure on the couch. Plankton's antennae shot up, his body tensing. "K-Krabs," he stuttered, his voice shaking with fear and anxiety despite trying to appear strong. Mr. Krabs' eyes twinkling with mischief. "What's this, Plankton? Too tired to scheme today?" Plankton's antennae twitched nervously. "Just... resting," he managed to murmur. "Resting? In the middle of the day? Pish-posh!" He waved a dismissive claw in the air. "More like plotting! I know your tricks, Plankton!" Sponge Bob stepped in, his spongy body blocking Krabs' view. "Hey, Mr. Krabs," he said. "Plankton's had a rough day. He's just taking it easy." Krabs' claws click together. "Rough day, eh?" he sneered. "I'll give ye rough!" Plankton's antennae drooped as his heart raced. The familiar threat of his enemy was like a knot in his stomach, a reminder of the harsh world outside his sanctuary, and what happened last time. Sponge Bob's voice grew firm. "Mr. Krabs, can we maybe talk about this later?" Mr. Krabs' eyes widened slightly at the unusual assertion. "Later? What's the matter with now?" Sponge Bob's gaze never left Plankton's trembling form. "Plankton's off the clock.." "Off the clock?" he scoffed. "There's no 'off the clock'!" Sponge Bob stepped closer to his friend, his spongy body a barrier between the two adversaries. "Mr. Krabs," he said, his voice firm, "Can we reschedule the... uh... brainstorming session?" Mr. Krabs' expression grew skeptical. Karen stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Krabs, please. Plankton's been through a lot." Mr. Krabs' eyes flicked to Karen. "Pah! Plankton's always had boundaries, but that's never stopped before!" Plankton's antennae quivered desperately, tensing even further. "Please, Krabs," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can't." Mr. Krabs' eyes narrowed, his claws coming to rest on his hip. "What do you mean, 'can't'?" he demanded. Sponge Bob's voice was firm but kind. "Mr. Krabs, Plankton's been diagnosed with something. It's like a... a... special condition," he stumbled. Mr. Krabs' beady eyes narrowed, sneer remaining. "Special condition? I'll give ye a special condition!" The room grew tense, the energy palpable. Plankton's antennae twitched rapidly, his body shrinking under the weight of Mr. Krabs' aggression. The memories of the fight and the subsequent meltdown flashed through his mind, a painful reminder of his vulnerability. Mr. Krabs' shadow loomed over the couch, his eyes gleaming with malice. Plankton's breathing grew shallow, his heart racing. He felt like a tiny creature trapped under the gaze of a giant predator. "Please," he whimpered, his voice barely audible. Sponge Bob stepped in front of Plankton, his spongy body taut with tension. "Mr. Krabs," he said, his tone firm, "Plankton's not ok. You need to back off." Mr. Krabs' sneer faltered, his claws pausing mid-air. He took a step back, his eyes widening slightly as he took in Plankton's state. The small creature's eye was wide with fear, his body trembling beneath the thin blanket. Sponge Bob watched, his heart breaking for his friend. "Mr. Krabs," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "What happened between you two really affected Plankton. He's been diagnosed with autism because of it." Mr. Krabs' expression shifted, his eyes going wide with shock. He took another step back, his claws dropping to his sides. "What? Autism?" he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. Karen stepped closer. "Yes Krabs," she said, her voice calm and patient. "The doctor said it's a result of the head injury he sustained during your fight." Mr. Krabs' face paled, his claws dropping to his sides. "I... I," he stammered, bravado gone. The room was silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Karen's unforgiving. Sponge Bob watched, his heart heavy with hope that his boss might understand. Mr. Krabs' eyes grew wide with horror as the realization sank in. The thought that he could have caused such harm to his longtime nemesis was to much to bear. He swallowed hard, his chest constricting with guilt. He looked at Plankton, really looked at him, for the first time seeing the fear and pain in his eye. Plankton was trembling, his antennae quivering with each shallow breath he took. Mr. Krabs took another step back, his chest heaving. "Autism?" he repeated. "Because of me?" The room was a silent witness to the crab's self-realization. The booming voice that had so often filled the Chum Bucket with threats and taunts was now just a faint echo of regret. Mr. Krabs stared at Plankton, his beady eyes shimmering with a mixture of horror and guilt. He had never seen the tiny plankton look so vulnerable, so broken. It was a stark contrast to the scheming genius he had always known. "I-I..." he stuttered, his claws trembling as he struggled to comprehend the gravity of his actions. Karen stepped forward, her voice firm but measured. "The doctor said it's because of the trauma to his brain you inflicted. It's all because of you! You did it." Mr. Krabs' eyes widened even further, and he took another step back. "But... but, I was just defending the Krabby Patty!" he protested weakly. Sponge Bob's gaze was steady on his boss. "It's more than that, Mr. Krabs. It's irreversible with no cure." Mr. Krabs' face fell, the implications of his actions finally sinking in. The magnitude of his recklessness was clear, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice small and desperate. Karen's gaze was steely. "You can start by giving him space. And maybe, just maybe, by being kind for once in your life." Mr. Krabs looked down at his claws, which had been poised for battle, now hanging limply at his sides. He nodded slowly, his eyes still on Plankton. "I'm sorry, Plankton," he said, his voice gruff. "I never meant to hurt ye like this." Plankton's antennae stilled. He wasn't sure what to make of Mr. Krabs' sudden apology. His eye searched the crab's face. "Mr. Krabs," he began, his voice still small but growing stronger. "I know Krabs didn't mean to... to make me like this." His antennae twitched slightly as he spoke. Mr. Krabs' expression grew soft, his eyes misting with tears. "But I can't take it back," he whispered, the weight of his guilt heavy on his shoulders. Suddenly, Plankton's tiny hand reached out, tentatively taking Mr. Krabs' large claw in his grip. The gesture was unexpected, his antennae quivering with the effort of reaching out despite his fear. It was a silent offering of peace, a bridge over the chasm of their rivalry. Mr. Krabs looked down at their joined hands with surprise. The warmth of Plankton's touch was a stark contrast to the coldness of his own heart, a reminder that despite their differences, they were all just creatures trying to navigate a complex world. The room held its breath as Mr. Krabs felt the tremble in Plankton's grip, a silent plea for understanding and compassion. It was a moment of unexpected connection, a reminder that even the most bitter of enemies could find common ground in pain and suffering. Mr. Krabs' eyes grew wet with tears, his hardened exterior cracking like a shell under the pressure of his guilt. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Plankton's antennae twitched as he processed the crab's words. He knew Mr. Krabs was capable of empathy, but rarely did it show. This was a side of him he had never seen before, and it was as overwhelming as it was comforting. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes still on Plankton's hand in his claw. He took a deep breath, the weight of his apology heavy on his chest. "I'll leave you be," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. Plankton's antennae remained still, his grip on Mr. Krabs' clawed hand lingering in the air for a moment before he slowly withdrew it, his mind reeling from the exchange. Sponge Bob and Karen watched, their expressions a mix of shock and hope. Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. He knew that words alone wouldn't erase the pain he had caused, but it was a start. He took a step back, his shoulders slumped with the weight of his newfound understanding. "I'll leave you to rest," he said, his voice gruff but sincere. Plankton's antennae quivered with relief, and he nodded slightly. Mr. Krabs turned to leave, his steps heavy as he moved toward the door. But before he could exit, Plankton's voice stopped him. "Mr. Krabs," he called out, his tone firm but not unkind. Mr. Krabs paused, his claw on the doorknob. He looked back over his shoulder, his expression a mix of hope and fear. Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he gathered his thoughts. "I... I forgive you," he managed to say, his voice surprisingly steady. Mr. Krabs' eyes widened in shock, his claw frozen on the doorknob. He had never expected such words to come from his enemy's lips, especially not now, in the aftermath of such a life-altering revelation. He turned to face Plankton, his expression a tumult of emotions. "You... forgive me?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with disbelief. Plankton nodded, his antennae still. "If you can change," he said, his voice firm but not unyielding. "Be better." Mr. Krabs' gaze searched Plankton's face, his own expression a mirror of the plankton's. "I'll try," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Plankton's antennae drooped in a gesture of defeat. "Just try," he murmured. "That's all I ask."

................................. ／＞-🌱-フ 　　　　　| 　_　 _ l 　 　　　／` ミ＿xノ 　　 　 /　　 　 　 | 　　　 /　 ヽ　 　 ﾉ 　／￣|　　 |　 |   | 　| (￣ヽ＿_ヽ__) _) 　＼二つ

...!...............!..... 　　　　　| 　_　 _ l 　 　　　／` ミ＿xノ 　　 　 /　　 　 　 | 　　　 /　 ヽ　 　 ﾉ 　／￣|　　 |　 |   | 　| (￣ヽ＿_ヽ__) _) 　＼二つ

🚔

▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▓▒▒▒░░░░▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒░▒▒░░░░▒▒▒░░▒░░░░░░▒░░░▒░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░▒░ ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░▒░░▒▒▒░░▒▒░▒░▒░▒▒░░░░▒▒░░▒░░░▒░▒▒░░░░▒▒▒▒░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒░░▒░░▒░▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░▒░░░░░░░ ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓░▒▒▒░░░▒▒▒░▒░▒▒▒▒░░▒░▒░░▒░▒▒░▒▒░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓░▒░░▒▒▒░░▒░▒▒░▒░░▒░░░░░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░▒░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒░░░▒░░░▒░░░░▒░░░▒▒░▒░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒░░█▓░░░▒░▒▒░▒░░░▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒░░░▒░▓▒░█▓░▒▒░▒░▒░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░█▓░▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░▒▒░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░█▓░▒▒▒░▒░▒░░░░░▒░░░░░░▒░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░ ░██▒░░▒██▓▒░░░░░▒▓▓▓▓▒░░▓▓░█▒░░░▒▒░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░█▒▒▓█▓░░▒▓█▓▒▒▓█▒░░░▒▒░▓█░█▒░░░░▒▒░▒▒▒░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░ ░█▓░░░░▒░░░░▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░▒█░█▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒░░▒░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█░█▒▒░▒░░░▒░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█░█▓▒▒▒▒░░▒░░▒░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░▒█░█▓░░░░▒░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░▒▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓█▓░░░░░░░▓█▓██▒░░░▒▒▒░░▒█░█▓░▒░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░▒░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓█▓▒█▓▒▒▓█▒░░░▒██▓█▓▒▒▓░▓█░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒░░▒░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓▓█░░▓█▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█░▓▓▒░░░░▒░░░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▓▓▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓▒█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▓▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ █▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███████ █▒█▒▒▓▓▓▒░░░░▒▓█▒░░░░░░░▓▓░▓▓░▒▒░▒▓▓███████████████████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ █▒█▒░░░░▒▓█▓█▓▒▒▓▓░░░░▒░▓▓░▓▓░░░░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ █▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒███▓▒░▓▓░▓▓▒░▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ █░▒▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▓░▓█░░▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ █▓░░▓██▓▒░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒░░░░▓▓░█▓░░░░▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒███▓▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▓░▒█▒░░░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▒░▒▓████████▒░▒█▓░░░░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▒░░░░░░░▒░▒▒▒░░░░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓██▓▒▒▓▒░░░░░░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒░▒░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓███▓▒▒▒░▒░▒░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒░░░░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒█▒░▒▒▒░░░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒█▒░▒▒░▒▒░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒█▒░░▒░░░░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒█▒▒▒▒▒░░░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒░▒░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒█▓▒▒▒▒░▒░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▓█▒░▒▒░░▒░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒░░░░░▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▓▓█▓▒▒▒▓▓█████▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒░░░░░▒▒▒▓▓▓█████▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒░▒▒▒▒░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░░░░▒██▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓███▓▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░▒▒░▒░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█░░░░░░▒▓██▓▓██▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▒░░░░▓▒░░░░░▓██ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░░░░░░▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░░░▒█▓░░░░░░▓▒▒██▓░░░░░░░░░░▒▓███▓▓▓██▒░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▓█░░▒▒░▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓░░░▒█▓▒░░░░░░░░░▓▓▓░░░░░░░█▒▓▓░░▓▒░░░▒░▒███░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒░▓█▒░▒░░░░▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█░░░░▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒██▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▓█▒░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒█▒░▒░▒░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓████▓▒▒░▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒▓░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░░▒▒░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒██████▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▒░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒░▒░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓░░░░░░▒▓▓▒░░░░░░░░▓█▓▓▒▓▓▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▓█▒░▒▒░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░▒▓▒░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▓░░░░░░▓▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒█▒▒▒▒░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒░▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▓▓░░░█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒█▒░░░░▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒░░░░░░▒░░░▒▒▓▒░░▓█▒▒████▓▒▒█▒▒▒█▒░░▒░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒██▒░░░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▓▓░░▓██░░▒██▒▒▒▓▒░░░▒▓██▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒█▓▒░░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒░░░░░░░▓▓▒▒▒█▒░░▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▓█▒░▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▓█▓░░░░▒█▓▒▒▒▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒█▓░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒░░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒░▒█▒▒▒▓████▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓░░░▓███▓▒░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▓█▓▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓█▓▒░░▓█▓▓▓█▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒░▒▓███▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████▒░░░░░██▓▓▒▒▒▒▓████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒░░░▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▒░░▒▓▓▒▒▒▒░▒░░░░░░▒▓█████▒▒▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░░▒░░░▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓░░██▒▒░░▒░▒░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▒█▓▒█▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒░░▒░▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓░░▓▓░░▒░▒░░░░░░░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▒█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▓▓███████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒░░░▒▒░░░░▒▒▒▒░▒░▓█▓▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▓██▓▒▒░▒░▒░░░▒░▒▒▓░▒▒░▒▒▒▒░░░░░▓██▒░░░░░░░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▓▓▓▓ ██▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████▓██▓▒░▒▒▒▓▒░▒░▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▒▒▒▓██████████▓▓▒▒░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒░░▒░▒▒░▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▓█░░▒▒▒▓▒▒░▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓███████████ ░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒█▒░░▒▓▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓█▓▒▒▒ ░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒█▒░░▒▓▒▒▒▓▓░▒▒▒░▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▓▒▒ ░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒█▒░░░▒▓▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▓▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒░▒█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒█▒░░▒░░▓▓▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓▓▒ ░░░░▒░░░░░░░█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒█▒░▒▓▓▒▒▓▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒ ░░░░▓░░░░░░░█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒█▒░▒░▒▒░▒▓▒░▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▒▒█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒█▓░░░▒░▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ░░░░▓░░░░░░░█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒█▓░░▒▒▒▒▒▓▒░▒▒▓▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ░░░░▓▒░░░░░░█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▓▓░▒▒░▒▒▒▓▒░▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░░░█▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ░░░░▒▓░░░░░░█▓▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▓█▒▒░░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓███ ░░░░▒▒░░░░░░█▓▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▒▒▓█▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▒▒░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒░░░▒█▓▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒░▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████▓░░░░░░░░░░ ░░░░░▓░░░░░░▓▓▒▒▓█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░░░░░▓░░░░░░▒█▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓████████▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒█▓▒▓████▓▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒█▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

🏺🪸🪐🇸꩜⚬

🏺🪸🪐🇸

🔎

💗✨🏹🐈‍⬛

👁

ྀི🧸▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||||။၊|။•

🖤

👁🤖⃤

⨺

Y’all what fvcking drama are ya talkin bout ion see nothin anywayssss here’s some cute kaomojis for ya hehe ✧༺♡༻∞ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ✮ ✰ ✧ ☆ ★ ✦ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ✧.* ⋆·˚ ༘ * ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༊*·˚ .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ｡.｡:∞♡*♥︎ ❁ཻུ۪۪♡ *(*❦ω❦)* ⌦ .｡.:*♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♬ ♫ ♪ ♩ ♯ ♮ ♭ ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ Volume: ■■■■■□□□ volυмe : ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇▉ 0:00 ───|────── 0:00 ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ☆。*。☆。 *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ∘°∘♡∘°∘ °。°。°。°。°。°。 .・。.・゜✭・. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦ ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ🌌🪐💫☄️⩇⩇:⩇⩇✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊💗.💗.⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⩇⩇:⩇⩇⩇⩇:⩇⩇

Y’all what fvcking drama are ya talkin bout ion see nothin anywayssss here’s some cute kaomojis for ya hehe ✧༺♡༻∞ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ✮ ✰ ✧ ☆ ★ ✦ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ✧.* ⋆·˚ ༘ * ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༊*·˚ .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ｡.｡:∞♡*♥︎ ❁ཻུ۪۪♡ *(*❦ω❦)* ⌦ .｡.:*♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♬ ♫ ♪ ♩ ♯ ♮ ♭ ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ Volume: ■■■■■□□□ volυмe : ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇▉ 0:00 ───|────── 0:00 ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ☆。*。☆。 *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ∘°∘♡∘°∘ °。°。°。°。°。°。 .・。.・゜✭・. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦ ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ🌌🪐💫☄️⩇⩇:⩇⩇✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

They replaced their search for knowledge With the reach of many material gains They lack the tenderness of the sensitive Empathetic bodies crying from the pain It's too late to grow their frame Of mind it seems that it's already made No use in arguing with someone who doesn't Wanna prioritize birthing of creation~🎶

⠀⠄⠠⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡃⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠁⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠒⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢇⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠒⠦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠀⠀⢈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⡀⠀⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣥⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡨⠏⡿⠗⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⠎⠀⠀⡂⠀⠉⠓⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠤⠤⠤⠤⠄⠤⠤⢤⠄⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⠺⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⡆⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠄⠀⡆⠁⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠠⠄⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⢵⠗⢸⠠⠀⡂⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⡈⣓⠹⡁⣟⢦⢨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢅⡩⡀⡇⢄⣭⠧⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢼⠨⠏⣧⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⡅⠗⣗⠂⣟⣽⢹⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢬⡀⣄⡇⡕⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠧⡙⣧⠄⠝⢞⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣦⠁⣹⡁⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⡧⣗⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡠⣻⣟⠀⣩⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠏⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⢖⢏⠈⡟⠃⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⢂⠀ ⠀⠉⠃⡀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢆⡀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄⠃⠀⠀⠓⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁❀. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Δ♥∞☺

please dont post gross stuff on here!! kids who are young like probably 9 year olds are just trying to find cute combos. spread the word (≧ヮ≦) also people who are spreading the word, please do not put curse words. its the same example for kids with the gross things but with curse words. thanks love<3 bye!!(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

please don't post gross stuff on here!! kids who are young like probably 9 year olds are just trying to find cute combos. spread the word (≧ヮ≦) also people who are spreading the word, please do not use curse words. it's the same example for kids with gross things but with curse words. thanks love<3 bye!!(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

⠶⠶⣶⣿⣆⠀⠐⠙⠛⠛⠳⠂⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠀⠀⠈⠙⠦⢄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠑⠒⠲⠤⠤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⠁⣠⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠑⠒⠤⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠤⡀⠀⢶⡏⠀⡰⠁⠄⢀⣀⠀⣀⣀⡤⠤⠂⠀⠰⣄⠁⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠦⣠⣤⣼⣦⣀⣧⠀⡇⢀⣤⣾⣯⣽⣄⠀⢀⣀⡠⢶⡀⠈⣳⠖⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠓⢦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣤⣧⡀⠉⠹⠿⣿⡏⠠⣸⣿⠟⠉⠁⠀⠀⣀⡠⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣷⣶⣾⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠋⠀⠀⣿⣶⣟⣻⣀⠀⣀⡁⠀⠀⢠⡀⠀⣄⣀⣉⡹⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢥⣤⣤⣤⣤⣬⠹⠛⢶⣦⣤⠤⠤⠴⠖⠒⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠟⠉⠉⠉⠙⢠⠋⣹⠆⠀⠘⠓⠾⡩⠟⠉⠀⢰⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣶⣦⣭⣽⣛⣛⣿⣿⡴⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⡴⠃⠀⠀⣀⠴⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⢤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣾ ⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣧⠤⠖⠶⠟⠻⠛⠻⢶⠖⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠋⢹⣿⠟⠛⠉ ⣦⣄⣈⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠒⠲⠤ ⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡔⠋⢁⡬⠛⠉⠉⢑⠖⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⡀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡏⠀⢀⠎⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣷⣄⡀ ⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⣸⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣁ ⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢠⡏⠀⠀⣠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠹⡿⣿ ⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⡸⣿⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠹⠌ ⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠉⢻⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡷⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠅⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠁⢠⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠿⠋⠁⢀⣹⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠁⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⡤⠖⠉⠀⠀⠹⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠎⠁⣠⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣬⣿⠷⠶⠶⠤⢤⣤⣤⡤⣤⣹⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣤⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⠒⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠞⠋⣀⡴⠞⠋⠻⢿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠒⠁⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠞⣉⣠⠴⠚⠁⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣤⣤⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠶⠶⣶⣿⣆⠀⠐⠙⠛⠛⠳⠂⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠀⠀⠈⠙⠦⢄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠑⠒⠲⠤⠤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⠁⣠⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠑⠒⠤⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠤⡀⠀⢶⡏⠀⡰⠁⠄⢀⣀⠀⣀⣀⡤⠤⠂⠀⠰⣄⠁⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠦⣠⣤⣼⣦⣀⣧⠀⡇⢀⣤⣾⣯⣽⣄⠀⢀⣀⡠⢶⡀⠈⣳⠖⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠓⢦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣤⣧⡀⠉⠹⠿⣿⡏⠠⣸⣿⠟⠉⠁⠀⠀⣀⡠⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣷⣶⣾⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠋⠀⠀⣿⣶⣟⣻⣀⠀⣀⡁⠀⠀⢠⡀⠀⣄⣀⣉⡹⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢥⣤⣤⣤⣤⣬⠹⠛⢶⣦⣤⠤⠤⠴⠖⠒⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠟⠉⠉⠉⠙⢠⠋⣹⠆⠀⠘⠓⠾⡩⠟⠉⠀⢰⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣶⣦⣭⣽⣛⣛⣿⣿⡴⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⡴⠃⠀⠀⣀⠴⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⢤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣾ ⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣧⠤⠖⠶⠟⠻⠛⠻⢶⠖⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠋⢹⣿⠟⠛⠉ ⣦⣄⣈⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠒⠲⠤ ⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡔⠋⢁⡬⠛⠉⠉⢑⠖⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⡀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡏⠀⢀⠎⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣷⣄⡀ ⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⣸⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣁ ⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢠⡏⠀⠀⣠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠹⡿⣿ ⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⡸⣿⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠹⠌ ⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠉⢻⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡷⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠅⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠁⢠⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠿⠋⠁⢀⣹⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠁⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⡤⠖⠉⠀⠀⠹⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠎⠁⣠⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣬⣿⠷⠶⠶⠤⢤⣤⣤⡤⣤⣹⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣤⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⠒⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠞⠋⣀⡴⠞⠋⠻⢿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠒⠁⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠞⣉⣠⠴⠚⠁⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣤⣤⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠄⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⢿⡛⠫⢽⣖⠒⠲⢤⠾⠁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⠶⢦⣄⡀⠀⠉⠓⢦⡈⠉⠑⠲⣤⡀⠉⠓⠲⣤⣀⠀⠀⢀⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢙⣶⡄⠀⠀⠈⠲⣄⠀⠀⠙⠦⣀⠉⠳⣍⢓⢦⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣟⢮⡳⡀⠀⠀⠈⠳⡄⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠈⠛⠳⡈⠳⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣠⣾⠟⠁⠐⠁⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣽⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠘⠂⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⠀⠀⢘⠂⠀⠙⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣠⣴⠆⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⢾⠟⢁⠄⠀⠀⢠⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡈⠘⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⡘⢮⣻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡀⠈⠓⣄⢰⠀⠱⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠛⠁⠀⢀⣠⠴⠋⣰⠏⡴⠃⠀⠀⢰⠋⠀⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⠳⣽⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⡀⠀⠈⠻⣇⠀⠙⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠻⠯⠤⠤⡞⢁⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⢶⣀⠀⣆⡀⠀⢀⠃⠐⠒⠀⠳⡄⠀⡀⢀⣀⣀⣈⣳⡘⢾⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⣦⣀⠀⠈⠀⠀⡇⢳⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⢡⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⠀⢰⡇⣇⠀⠀⠀⠠⠙⠿⣮⡷⢤⣼⠤⠤⠤⠤⠖⠛⢿⣻⡻⣄⡀⠀⠀⠉⢿⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢻⠟⠦⣄⠀⠳⣄⠻⣄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⢁⡎⠀⠀⠀⡤⠀⡟⠀⠀⣸⠁⣼⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⣟⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣙⣷⣀⡙⣦⣄⠀⠀⢻⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠀⠀⠘⢆⠀⠈⠃⠹⣄ ⠀⠀⠀⠠⠃⡾⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⠀⡇⠀⠀⡏⢸⠃⢹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣇⢰⠏⠀⠈⡹⠋⠉⢉⣿⢉⣉⣽⣯⣭⣭⣭⣶⣤⣹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣾⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⣧⡿⠐⠲⢷⡀⢳⡄⠀⠀⢹⡜⠀⠀⠀⠀⣖⣿⣿⡿⢟⣻⢏⡽⠉⠉⠉⠛⣿⣾⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢯⢷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⢠⣾⢷⠀⣧⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠱⡄⡟⢦⡀⠀⢷⡀⠀⠀⠸⢋⡟⠳⠶⠶⠒⠋⢀⣀⡠⣴⣴⣿⡋⣹⠀⠀⣤⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣼⡏⠉⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠒⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠁⠀⢸⡇⣨⡟⣧⡇⢀⣴⣂⡀⠀⠙⢾⡀⠘⠲⢌⣧⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⣀⣠⢴⣺⡭⢖⣿⡿⢇⣀⡽⢿⠀⠀⢻⠀⠈⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⡟⣧⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⣾⡿⠁⠹⣜⣶⠋⠁⢀⡄⠀⠀⠘⡿⡀⠀⣠⢝⣹⣤⠒⡤⣶⠯⠟⢿⣯⡥⠖⠛⠉⠛⠉⠉⠀⠘⡆⠀⢸⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⡿⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⣿⠁⠀⣠⢛⣾⣶⡶⡿⣿⣥⡀⠀⡧⣁⣼⡷⣫⠆⠀⢀⡴⣯⣝⣻⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠿⠋⠀⠀⠢⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⡇⢠⡟⢀⣾⣷⢿⣟⣣⠶⠚⠁⠀⣠⣼⠟⠉⠡⠞⠁⠀⠐⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢸⡾⠋⠁⠀⢱⡀⢀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡧⣷⠘⡇⢘⣾⡏⠀⠀⢀⡠⣤⠞⢻⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢸⣻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⣤⠀⢿⣿⣧⢳⠀⣿⣧⣤⣺⠽⣛⡥⠾⠋⠋⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⡼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠸⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠇ ⠀⠀⠈⠀⢰⡘⡇⠈⣿⣯⠻⣤⠉⠛⢛⡥⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⣸⠃⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠓⠄⠀⠀⢠⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢣⢱⡀⢻⣹⡆⣿⣠⣶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢧⡇⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⠀⠀⠀⢠⠎⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⢣⣷⡸⡇⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡴⠖⠋⠉⢙⣲⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣯⡞⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⢸⣿⣠⠆⢠⡏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣷⣽⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣛⢛⣉⣠⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠏⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⢸⠟⠁⣰⣿⣇⡠⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣆⠀⠈⡇⠙⠆⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣭⣝⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠻⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⣯⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⠞⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣿⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣿⢋⠀⢰⠛⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣼⣿⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠀⢐⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠠⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⢰⠗⠁⠀⢸⡄⠀⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢸⣾⠀⡾⠀⠀⢸⠇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠸⡹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡄⠀⠀⠠⣿⣶⣿⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⢠⠃⠀⠀⡟⠀⢠⣿⣿⡿⢿⡠⠖⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠸⡀⢀⠀⡇⠹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⣄⠀⠀⠘⣿⠉⠉⠛⠿⣶⢤⣴⣷⠁⣸⠀⠀⢠⠃⠀⡞⢿⡿⠡⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠀⠀⢇⠘⡀⢹⡄⢹⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣄⠀⠀⢠⡀⠉⠙⢦⡀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡟⢠⠇⠀⢀⣿⠀⢰⣧⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⡀⠀⠘⡆⢷⠈⣿⡈⢷⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣉⠉⠉⣙⣒⡶⠬⢧⣶⣄⠁⢀⡇⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠃⡼⠀⠀⣼⣿⣠⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⢁⠀⠀⠸⡌⡆⢹⡱⡌⢧⡀⠉⠳⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⢀⣠⠄⠈⠈⠉⠉⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⠃⠀⣴⣣⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠘⡎⢣⠀⠀⠹⣽⡀⢇⠘⢆⠻⡄⠀⠀⠉⠳⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⠏⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡿⢠⠎⠀⣸⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡄⠀⢹⡌⣆⠀⠀⠣⢷⡘⣧⠈⠳⡘⢦⣀⡈⢦⡀⠈⠛⠲⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⣀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⡹⢃⠎⠀⣴⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⡏⠀⠀⡶⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠈⠓⡆ ⠙⠒⡛⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⡼⠁ ⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⢀⠅⠀⠀⡜⠁⡋⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠓⠒⠒⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

☯🐻✨