Special K Emojis & Text

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🇹🇰ꨄ

k 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄

♠️🃏🥶⃤👁️⃤

🫙🫧 ʞ🏳

★🎸🎧🧷<𝟑⋆｡ °⋆

♠️🃏k⋆˙⟡♡( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡)🥶⃤👁️⃤

²

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⠇⠀⠹⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⡟⠀⡀⠀⢻⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣼⣿⣿⠁⢠⣿⡄⠈⣿⣿⣧⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⣼⣿⣧⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁ ⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⠤⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⣴⣾⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⡇⠀⣸⣿⡿⠋⠀⠙⢿⣿⣇⠀⢸⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⠀⢠⠟⠉⢀⣠⣶⣄⠀⠈⠻⡄⠈⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⣰⠞⠛⢶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠴⠖⠒⠶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⣠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣤⣴⣶⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣼⡯⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⢃⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⣿⣿⡟⠛⠻⠷⠄ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠿⣷⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣿⡟⠛⠓⠲⠶⠤⣤⣤⡀⢀⣠⡶⠞⠉⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⢀⣀⣷⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣅⣀⣤⠴⠖⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠒⠶⠤⣼⣇⣀⡀⠀⠉⣿⠛⠷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠰⠒⠋⠻⣥⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⡴⢶⡶⠄⠀⠀⣠⡾⠃⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⢷⣶⣦⣼⠇⠀⣧⣤⠶⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣄⣠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 2 (Autistic author) He blinked a few times, his vision clearing slowly. He saw her face, wet with tears, and his own realization dawned. "Oh, Karen," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. Plankton struggled to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his head. The lab looked the same, but something felt off. The air was charged with an unspoken tension that Plankton couldn't quite put his finger on. He tried to recall the argument, but the details were fuzzy. All he knew was that he'd fallen, and now Karen was apologizing for something she wasn't even at fault for. He looked into her screen, searching for answers. "What happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Karen took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to say. "You had an accident in the lab," she replied, her voice calm and measured. "You hit your head." But as she watched him, she noticed something else. His movements were stiff, his gaze unfocused. He wasn't quite the same. Karen noticed that his usual vibrant expressions were absent, replaced by a vacant stare. She chalked it up to lightheadedness. "Karen," Plankton began, his voice still slurred. "Karen." He paused, his eye darting around the room as if searching for words. Karen felt a cold knot form. Something was different about him, something she couldn't quite place. His movements were rigid, his gaze unwavering, like he was seeing her but not really seeing her. "What is it?" she asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. Plankton's eye finally met hers, but there was no spark of recognition, no mischievous twinkle that she was used to. "Plankton glad to see Karen," he said, his tone flat and unemotional. That wasn't right. "Plankton, do you know where you are?" she asked nervously. Plankton nodded slowly, his gaze still unnaturally focused. "Home," he responded, his voice devoid of the warmth and love she was accustomed to. "The Chum Bucket." Karen's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of the man she knew, but all she found was a distant shadow. Panic began to creep in as the gravity of the situation started to dawn on her. This wasn't just a bump on the head. Something was very wrong. "Do you remember me?" she asked, her voice trembling. Plankton's eye searched her, his expression unchanging. "Karen," he responds correctly. "Wife of Plankton. Computer wife as of July 31, 1999." The words hit Karen like a cold wave. He knew her name, but the way he said it, like he was recounting a fact rather than speaking to his beloved wife, chilled her to the bone. She felt the ground shift beneath her, her world tilting on its axis. "Plankton, what's wrong?" she asked, desperation seeping into her voice. He looked at her, his gaze unblinking. "Wife Karen," he said, his voice robotic. "Irritated with Plankton's lack of attention to anniversary dinner." The words were right, but the emotion, the love, the personality behind them was gone. It was like talking to a stranger, a very tiny, very confused stranger. Karen felt a tear roll down her screen. "Plankton, can you hear me?" she asked, her voice quivering. "I'm not just 'Wife Karen', I'm your Karen. Your partner, your best friend." Plankton's response was a mechanical nod. "Affirmative," he said, his tone unwavering. "Karen is wife. Plankton is husband." The coldness of his words cut through Karen like a knife. Her eyes searched his, desperately trying to find any sign of the man she knew was in there. "Plankton," she said softly, "it's me. It's Karen. Do you understand?" He nodded again, his antennae barely twitching. "Understood," he replied, his voice devoid of inflection. "And Karen is upset?" Karen nodded, trying not to crumble. "Yes, I'm upset," she managed to say, her voice choked with emotion. "But more than that, I'm scared. You're not acting like yourself, Plankton." He blinked, his gaze shifting slightly. "Scared," he echoed, as if trying to understand the concept. "Why Karen scared?" "Because you're not you," Karen managed to whisper, breaking with every robotic response. "You're acting so... different." Plankton tilted his head, trying to process her words. "Different how?" he asked, his voice still lacking any emotional depth. Karen took a deep breath, trying to explain something she didn't fully understand herself. "You're not showing your feelings," she said. "You're not... connecting with me like you usually do." Plankton's face remained a mask of confusion. "Connections," he muttered. "Emotional bonds." He nodded slowly. "Important for relationship. Plankton in love with Karen." Karen felt a flicker of hope. "That's right," she said, her voice gentle. "I know you love me. But you're not showing it, not like before." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he processed this new information. "Plankton must adjust behavior to align with Karen's desired emotional output; how?" Karen felt a pang of sadness. He was trying to understand, but his usual charm was nowhere to be found. She took his hand in hers. "Just talk to me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you're thinking, what you're feeling." Plankton looked at her, his expression still vacant. "Plankton thinking about Karen," he said, his voice flat. "Plankton feeling determined." Karen's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of the emotion his words conveyed. "Determined to what?" she asked, hopeful. "Determined to what," he echoed. "Karen saying, determined to what. Plankton determined to show Karen love, Karen saying determined to what." Karen realized the depth of his change. This wasn't just a concussion or a temporary loss of memory; it was something much more profound, something that had stripped him of his very essence. "Plankton," she began, her voice shaking, "I don't know what happened to you, but I need you to try. Can you tell me how you feel?" But then he starts to rock back and forth to stim, humming their wedding song. The sight of her husband's usually expressive features now so vacant and his movements so repetitive was alarming. Karen felt a sob rise in her throat, but she pushed it down. She needed to stay strong, for him. "Plankton," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Look at me. I need you to focus. Can you tell me how you feel, in your own words?" He stopped rocking and turned his head to look at her, his eye still distant. "Feelings," he repeated. "Love, anger, sadness, joy. Concepts. Plankton has them. Karen saying, determined to what." Karen's hope sank. The realization was setting in. This wasn't just a case of a bump on the head. Plankton's accident had changed him in a way she didn't fully comprehend. The lab, once filled with the warmth of his passion and dreams, now felt cold and sterile. Her mind raced as she searched for any indication of the man she knew. The way he spoke, the way he moved, it was as if a switch had been flipped. "Plankton, does your head hurt?" "Cephalgia via blunt force trauma. Getting better." He responds, flapping his hands. Karen's eyes widened at his unexpected use of medical terminology. "neurodivergence," she thought to herself. Could it be that her husband had somehow developed something from the fall? It was a long shot, but the lack of emotional connection, the repetitive behaviors, and the rigidity of his speech patterns were all hallmarks of it. She scans his brain and connected herself to the monitor. Plankton looks over and sees the brain scan. "Plankton's brain?" "Yes, Plankton.." Karen says. "Cerebellar cortex reduced synapses and showing minimal activity in the corpus callosum. Irreversibly reduced blood flow in between hemispheric..." "I've no idea what you're saying, honey." Karen interrupts. Plankton's face falls, his usual playfulness replaced by a look of confusion. "Neurotypical communication error," he says, his voice laced with frustration. "Karen, Plankton trying to say the fall caused disruption to myelination.." Karen's eyes widen in shocked confusion. "Myelination? Plankton, are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with fear. Plankton nods, his gaze fixed on the brain scan. "Neuroplasticity. Synaptic pruning. Autism acquisition," he says, his words coming out in a rush. Karen's mind reels at his diagnosis. Autism? It couldn't be. But as she looks at his rigid body language and his lack of emotional expression, she can't deny it.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 2 (Neurodivergent author) By evening, Karen has set up a makeshift kitchen area in the living room, with all the ingredients for spaghetti arranged neatly on the coffee table. Plankton sits cross-legged on the floor, his eye never leaving the recipe book. He reads each step aloud, his voice growing stronger with confidence. Karen chops vegetables nearby, noticing the subtle changes in his movements, the way he tilts his head when he's concentrating. The smell of garlic and onions sizzling in olive oil fills the room. Plankton stirs the pot, his face scrunching up slightly at the aroma, a sign his sensory sensitivity has heightened. She sees him rub his hands together, a self-stimulatory behavior, but she knows it's his way of grounding himself amidst the chaos. They move around the makeshift kitchen, a silent dance of understanding and support. Karen boils the water for the spaghetti while Plankton continues to sauté the veggies. Each action is deliberate, each step measured as they navigate their new reality. The water reaches a rolling boil, and Plankton carefully drops in the spaghetti strands, his gaze transfixed by the swirling water. Karen watches his concentration and sees the childlike wonder in his eye. "How long?" he asks. "Five minutes," Karen says, her voice calm. She's read that clear and concise instructions can be helpful. After five minutes, Plankton quickly drains the spaghetti, his movements precise and methodical. He pours the sauce over the noodles and mixes them gently, his focus intense. Karen watches him, a mix of admiration and concern. "It's done," he announces, his voice a mix of excitement and apprehension. She brings over two plates, setting them on the coffee table. They sit across from each other, the steaming spaghetti a bridge between them. Plankton's hand hovers over his plate, unsure of how to proceed with the new sensory experience. "Let's eat," Karen says with a smile, picking up her fork and twirling the noodles expertly. The sound of her silverware against the plate makes him flinch, but he mimics her movements. They eat in silence, the clinking of forks and spoons the only sounds in the room. Plankton chews slowly, savoring each bite, his face a canvas of emotions. Karen watches him, her own fork poised in midair. As they finish dinner, Plankton sets his plate aside and looks at her, his expression earnest. "Thank you, Karen," he says, his voice clear. "For being here Karen." Her eyes brim with tears, but she blinks them back. "Always, Plankton. I'll always be here. Now it's getting late; let's go to bed.." In bed, she reads to him, his favorite childhood story, the words acting as a lullaby. Plankton's hand rests on her arm, his thumb rubbing circles in a self-soothing gesture. His breathing steadies, matching the rhythm of her voice. The book's final page is turned, and she switches off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The silence is filled with the comforting hum of the fan above. Karen lies beside Plankton, his body rigid with tension. Her arm wraps around him, pulling him closer, and she feels his muscles slowly relax. "Goodnight, Plankton," she whispers, kissing his forehead. He doesn't respond, lost in his thoughts. But she knows he heard her. Karen notices the tension in his body and gently runs her fingers through his antennae, a silent offer of comfort. Eventually, his breathing evens out, and he falls asleep, his body curled into hers like a child seeking shelter. The next morning, the sun streams through the blinds, casting stripes across the bed. Karen, already awake, watches him, her hand still entwined with his. He's still asleep, his body relaxed, the lines of worry from the day before smoothed out by the embrace of slumber. Carefully, she slides out of bed, not wanting to disturb him. She sees him stir in his sleep, his antennae twitching slightly, but he remains unaware of her departure. In the kitchen, Karen starts the coffee, the scent filling the room with a comforting aroma. She opens the fridge, finding the ingredients for the morning routine. Plankton's usual breakfast is a simple one: toast with jam and a banana. The toaster pops, and she spreads the jam with a gentle smoothness that Plankton likes. The banana peels easily, revealing the perfect yellow fruit inside. Her mind races with thoughts of how she'll need to learn his new sensitivities, his likes and dislikes, his triggers. But for now, she focuses on the task at hand, placing the slices of bread in the toaster. When the toast is just right, she carries the breakfast tray to the bedroom, her steps soft against the cold floor. Plankton's still asleep, his snores punctuating the quiet morning. Karen sets the tray on the bedside table. She watches him, unsure how to wake him without causing distress. She's read about sensory sensitivity and knows that sudden noise can be jarring for someone with Autism. She gently strokes his antennae, her touch featherlight, and whispers his name, "Plankton, wake up." He stirs, his antennae twitching, but his eye remains closed. Karen tries again, a little louder this time, "Wake up, sweetie. Breakfast is ready." Plankton's hand shoots up to cover his eye, a reflexive reaction to the light. His body tenses, then relaxes as his mind adjusts to the new day. He sits up slowly. "Thank you, Karen," he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. He takes in the breakfast spread before him, his antennae twitching with anticipation. He picks up the toast, feeling the warmth in his hands, the stickiness of the jam a familiar comfort. Karen watches him closely, noticing the way his eye widens slightly at the first bite, the way his tongue flicks out to taste the banana. It's as if every sensation is amplified, a symphony of flavors and textures that she can't begin to understand. She sips her coffee, silent, giving him space. As he eats, Plankton starts to hum again, his body rocking slightly. It's a low, comforting sound that fills the room. Karen feels the tension in her shoulders ease. This is their new normal, a dance of care and understanding.

petition to make this an app!! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𝒜𝒶 ℬ𝒷 𝒞𝒸 𝒟𝒹 ℰℯ ℱ𝒻 𝒢𝓰 ℋ𝒽 ℐ𝒾 𝒥𝒿 𝒦𝓀 ℒ𝓁 ℳ𝓂 𝒩𝓃 𝒪ℴ 𝒫𝓅 𝒬𝓆 ℛ𝓇 𝒮𝓈 𝒯𝓉 𝒰𝓊 𝒱𝓋 𝒲𝓌 𝒳𝓍 𝒴𝓎 𝒵𝓏

✗⚬ﾒ⚬

💜💜💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 💜💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 🩵🩵🧡💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵🧡🧡💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️🧡🧡💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️❤️🧡🧡💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️❤️❤️🧡🧡💛💛💛💛💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️❤️❤️❤️🧡🧡💛💛💛💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🧡🧡💛💛💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🧡🧡💛💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🧡🧡💛💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🧡🧡💛💚💚 🩵🩵❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🧡🧡💚💚 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩷 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩷🩷

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEE EEEE EEEE EEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEE EEEE EEEE EEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE 🇪

™ᐸ/3²™

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠔⢒⣀⠤⠤⠤⠤⠀⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⠐⠒⠂⣲⡶⣲⡟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣋⣤⠟⠉⠁⢢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⡿⠟⡡⠀⢀⠀⠀⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡌⠢⣱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢱⠁⠀⡇⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣜⣬⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⡔⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣯⡇⠀⣷⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⢸⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣟⡇⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨ ⠀⠀⢰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡏⡇⠀⣹⠷⠶⠿⣿⣶⣸⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣇⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰ ⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠳⡙⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠉⢿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣜⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⢧⠈⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠈⠿⠟⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨ ⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢸⡤⣼⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⢿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⠶⠤⠴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⠙⣧⡀⢀⡀⠀⠀⡼⠀⢠⣦⣠⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠆⠀⠉⠛⠾⠦⣾⣧⡿⢻⣾⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⡿⠁⣰⣇⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈ ⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢻⣡⠶⣷⠀⣰⣷⠶⠃⡰⠛⠁⠈⠲⡆⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠ ⠀⠀⡏⠈⠳⠤⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠔⡿⠛⠁⠼⣿⣸⡇⠙⠒⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⠀⣼⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐ ⣠⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⣴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢛⠀⠀⢀⣷⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠ ⠈⠑⢢⠀⢀⡤⣬⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠈⢿⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠘⠒⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠏⠉⣹⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡞⠉⠙⠢⢄⡀⠀⠀⠘⢻⠘⠉⠉⡽⠛⡆⠀⠀⢸⣆⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡴⠒⠂⠤⠤⢀⡀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⡇⡼⢷⡄⠀⠈⢇⠳⣽⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣆⢀⣿⡇⠀⠀⡇⡇⠈⣿⡆⠀⠸⡀⠈⢿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣼⠟⢹⡇⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠹⣦⡀⠱⡀⠀⠉⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠏⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⣧⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⣵⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡴⠶⢽⡀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⢹⡿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠣⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡰⠃⠘⠀⠀⣠⣶⣛⠁⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⢇⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡁⣤⣖⠮⠽⠁⠙⠤⢉⡒⠤⠄⣘⢣⣀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢷⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠒⠁⢿⣿⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢋⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⠀⠀⠈⠙⣇⠀⢣⠀⠀⠈⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨

guys pls dont put bad stuff on here, theres probably just little kids scrolling trying to find some cool emoji combos, so pls, no bad stuff :(

༺♡༻

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★. 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒

🪄๋࣭ ⭑🫧

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉ Join ! 'ㄑᴡᴇʙᴄᴏʀᴇ ‹𝟹  ୨୧ ' We are currently a small server so please join to help me/us out we would really appreciate it ^^ ! 🕊️ꜱʜᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ᴀꜱ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ...🤍 ⛓️┆・୨୧ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴇᴍᴏᴊɪ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴏꜱ 🦴 ┆・୨୧ ɴᴏ ɴꜱꜰᴡ 🕸️ ┆・୨୧ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴇᴍᴏᴊɪꜱ 🦇┆・୨୧ ʟɢʙᴛqɪᴀ+ ! ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ 🎧 ┆・୨୧ ʀᴏʟᴇꜱ ! 🕯️┆・୨୧ ɢɪᴠᴇᴀᴡᴀʏꜱ ────୨ৎ──── 🤍 ᴏᴡɴᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: mix1mi._ ( ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴜꜱᴇʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛɪɴɢ ) ʟɪɴᴋ: https://discord.gg/WgTxfHcT

❍˙𖦹"≂

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ᡣ𐭩 𐙚 𐙚 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧🩷˚.🎀༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧🩷˚.🎀༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧🩷˚.🎀༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

˚₊‧꒰ა 💌 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

✉️‎♡‧₊˚

fairy butterfly heart ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

⋆⁺₊🦋ૐ🪬🪄

💌🌹❤️💕 𝙩𝙤: 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢: 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙖𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙧 જ⁀➴𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦. 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮, 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵. 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵! ☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆

*[▻::◅]*

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

♘⚔️

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🧚🏻₊˚ʚ 🪷 ₊˚

𖤐☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

🔮

⣿⣿⠿⠛⣉⣉⣉⣉⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣌⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⢉⠋⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣷⣄⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢉⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡈⠻⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⣄⡙⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡈⠻⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢹⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⣉⣀⠀⠙⣨⣤⣭⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢻⢸⣿⡟⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠸⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⣿⣿⣯⡇⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠛⢿⡏⣡⣶⡌⢻⣟⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠛⢋⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢰⣿⣷⣬⢉⣵⣿⣿⣧⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠇⣸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠘⠿⠿⠟⢁⡙⠛⠛⢋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠀⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⡿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⢻⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⢋⣭⣭⠡⠾⢟⣂⣒⡻⠷⠌⠵⢶⣍⠻⣛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠈⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⢋⣴⡦⢊⣥⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣬⣌⡛⠿⠌⣛⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡅⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⢑⡸⢁⣾⡟⠉⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣝⠻⡆⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⢾⠃⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠿⣿⣷⣌⠻⡆⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠠ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢠⡀⣿⣿⣷⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣦⣱⣌⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⡏⢰ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠣⠹⢛⣙⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣭⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⡇⠛⣸⣽⣿⡟⡻⢁⣾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣴⣿⣿⣯⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⢼⣾⣟⠟⢁⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠙⠛⠟⣙⡻⣦⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡀⢡⠞⠛⣁⣴⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣶⣿⠆⠿⠦⠀⣰⣾⢂⣉⣛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⢁⣺⣥⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠛⠿⣿⣷⣤⠀⣀⠳⢢⣢⢲⠧⠘⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠉⡀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⠌⢉⡄⣈⠑⠛⠛⠂⠚⠓⠒⠀⠀⡀⢩⣴⣶⣶⡌⢢⡘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣴⣿⠟⡅⠚⠘⠂⡽⢻⣿⣬⣿⣷⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠒⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠴⣋⡅⣚⣥⣾⣿⣧⣙⠂⢭⡛⠻⠿⠃⡌⠛⢿⣿⣃⣼⠟⠈⢨⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣐⣣⣶⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠘⣶⣦⣍⠁⠐⠐⠰⠌⠉⠋⠁⠄⠶⠂⠊⢙⢻⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⣿⣿⣇⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⠀⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡶⠂⢉⣾⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⡙⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣦⣭⣝⡋⠶⢙⣫⣥⣴⡇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣙⣂⠶⠦⠠⣤⠤⣄⡀⣡⣀⢠⣀⠄⣤⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠐⠶⠶⠄⠀⠼⣦⡲⠔⠾⣶⣶⣶⠶⠖⠀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠛⠶⠶⠀⢿⣶⣤⣤⣘⣣⣤⣤⣤⣶⡞⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣁⣉⣉⣉⣉⣡⣌⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

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༄.ೃ࿔࿐໋✧˖°.

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🧸🧚🏻‍♀️. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁𓍢ִ໋🀦𓇢𓆸

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KNྀི

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

✮★

𐦍𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

2/2 THE MOOON Karen couldn't help but giggle at his befuddled state. His usual stoic demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a childlike wonder and confusion. He tried to sit up again, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. "Stay still," she said, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "How... how's it... it over?" he slurred, his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton trying to form words around his thick tongue. The nurse, who had seen this reaction before, offered a reassuring pat on the arm. "You're all done, Mr. Plankton. The anesthesia is just taking its time to wear off. You're going to feel a bit funny for a while." Plankton's eye rolled back, his body lolling to the side like a ragdoll's. "I can't feel my face," he mumbled, his words barely coherent. "It's the anesthesia," she explained, her voice soft and soothing. "It'll wear off soon." Plankton's eye rolled back in his head, and his antennae flopped to the sides as if they had lost their will to stand tall. "I've been... I've been... to the mooon!" he exclaimed, his slurred words tripping over each other. The nurse and Karen couldn't help but laugh at his nonsensical rambling. "The moon?" Karen managed to get out between giggles. "You mean the dentist's chair?" Plankton's eye snapped back to hers, his antennae perking up slightly. "No, no... the moo... the cheesy moo!" he insisted, his speech still slurred and his gaze unfocused. His hand waved in the air, trying to describe something that clearly only existed in his anesthesia-induced haze. Karen's laughter grew louder as she watched him. "The cheesy moon?" she repeated, trying to make sense of his gibberish. The nurse's chuckles grew to a full-blown laugh, shaking her whole body. "It's ok Mr. Plankton," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "You're safe here." Plankton's antennae waved erratically, his mouth forming another round of slurred syllables. "The... the... shmoobly wobble!" he exclaimed, his eye glazed over with a far-off look. "Whewe's shmoobly go?" Karen couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "Oh, Plankton, you're so funny when you're like this!" she exclaimed, her voice full of mirth. "Fum-fum," Plankton slurred. "I'm not fum-fum," he protested, his voice a mix of indignation and the lingering effects of the anesthesia. His antennae wobbled. "Wha’ you do wiff Mx shmoobly?" "Your mouth is just numb," she explained, her voice shaking with laughter. "You had wisdom teeth removed." "Widom... teef?" Plankton repeated, his voice a mix of slurs and half-sounds. "The... the shmoobly wobble took them?" Karen's laughter grew. "No, Plankton, your wisdom teeth. They were removed." Plankton's eye searched hers, his expression one of utter perplexity. "But... but where's the shmoobly wobble?" he demanded, his mouth a mess of numbness and anesthesia. Karen couldn't contain her laughter any longer, bending over in her seat, her hand over her screen. The nurse was equally amused, her shoulders shaking with silent giggles. "Shmoobly wobble?" she managed to ask between gasps. "What's a shmoobly wobble?" Plankton's antennae waved with the vigor of a drunken sailor. "It's... it's a... a vnorbly snork!" he exclaimed, his words a delightful jumble that made no sense in the sober world. Karen's laughter was infectious, and even the nurse found it hard to maintain her professional demeanor. "A vnorbly snork?" she repeated, her smile growing wider. "What does that do?" Plankton's face scrunched up as he tried to gather his thoughts. "It... it makes... makes the teef... it makes the teef go bye-bye!" he exclaimed, his antennae waving wildly. The nurse covered her mouth, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I see," she said, nodding as if she understood. "The shmoobly wobble is quite a character." Karen wiped a tear from her screen, her laughter subsiding. "I think we should get you home, sweetheart," she said, her voice still thick with mirth. "You need to rest." Plankton's antennae twitched, his gaze firmly locked on the nurse. "The... the... snibble-bobble?" he declared. "Take the snibble-bobble home, Karen..." The nurse's eyes twinkled with humor and she nodded. "Yes, Mr. Plankton. The snibble- bobble will take good care of you at home." Plankton's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to form words that simply would not come out right. "Karen, did you... did you see the... the... the... floobly-doobly?" Karen's laughter bubbled up again. "The floobly- doobly?" she repeated, her voice wobbling with mirth. "What's a floobly-doobly?" Plankton looked at her with confusion. "Huh? The whath?" He asked her. Karen tried to calm her laughter. "The floobly-doobly, Plankton," she said, smiling broadly. "You mentioned it just now." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts a jumble. "I... I don't know," he murmured, his voice trailing off. With the nurse's help, Karen managed to get him into a sitting position, his movements sluggish and clumsy. His legs felt like jellyfish, flailing about with no sense of direction. "Come on," she coaxed, helping him stand. Plankton's eye remained half-closed as he stumbled towards the door. The hallway looked like a twisted kelp forest, and his body felt like a ship adrift without a compass. The nurse provided a steady arm, guiding him down the corridor. "Keep walking," she instructed, but with each step, Plankton seemed to drift closer to sleep. His head bobbed, his eyelid fighting a losing battle against the siren's call of slumber. "Plankton, stay with me," Karen urged, her voice a gentle reminder of the world around him. But his body had other ideas, his legs giving out under him. The nurse caught him, her laugh now a warm chuckle at his plight. "It's the anesthesia," she explained. "It'll wear off soon. Just keep talking to him, it'll help keep him alert." Karen nodded. "Look, Plankton," she said. "Can you see the little fishy?" Plankton's eye snapped open, his antennae shooting up. "Fishy?" he repeated. He took a few wobbly steps before his legs gave out once more, and he leaned heavily on the nurse. "Whoa, there," she said, steadying him with a laugh. "We're almost to the car." Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye half-closed again. "So... so tiwed," he mumbled. "We're almost there," Karen assured. The nurse opened the door to the waiting area. Plankton blinked slowly, his eyelid drooping once again. The bright light from outside was like a siren's song, lulling him back into the depths of sleep. "Come on, Plankton, stay awake," Karen encouraged. But the world was spinning, and the siren's call of sleep was growing stronger. With each step closer to the car, his eyelid grew heavier, and his mind swam with a haze of disorientation. The floor beneath his feet felt like waves, and he stumbled again, his hand reaching out for support that wasn't there. "Keep talking," the nurse whispered to Karen, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Karen took a deep breath, forcing her own laughter down. "Remember the time we found the treasure?" she asked, hoping to keep him alert. Plankton's antennae perked up slightly, his sluggish eye focusing on hers. "Tweasure?" he murmured. The nurse nodded encouragingly, and Plankton took another step, his body swaying like a piece of kelp in the current. "Yeah," he mumbled, "the... the... goldy wobble." His words were slurred, his mind lost in the fog of the anesthesia. They made it to the car, and Karen gently guided him into the passenger seat. She buckled him in, his body already slack with the weight of exhaustion. "Tell me more," she said, trying to keep his thoughts on the treasure they had found together, anything to keep his mind engaged. But Plankton's eye weas closing again, his head lolling against the headrest. "Goldy... wobble... " he murmured, his words barely audible. "It's okay, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice soothing. "You can rest." With a contented sigh, Plankton gave in to the warm embrace of slumber, his body going limp. Karen started the engine and drove carefully, her mind racing with the events of the day. The thought of her stoic husband, reduced to a slurring mess, was too absurd to fully comprehend. Yet, there was a tenderness in his vulnerability that made her love him all the more.

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

SWEET CWEAM pt. 2 Plankton's gaze shifted to the ceiling, where shadows danced in the harsh fluorescent light. He tried to remember, but his thoughts were like grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "Karen," he whispered, his voice tiny and lost. "My tweef?" Her smile never wavered, her eyes steady on his. "Don't worry about your teeth now. They're all taken care of." Plankton's mind raced, trying to grasp the concept of missing teeth. He swallowed, the movement painfully sluggish in his throat. "Buh... buth how?" "They used a special kind of sleepy medicine," she explained, her voice a calm lullaby in the stark reality of the recovery room. "It made sure you didn't feel any pain." Plankton's eye grew rounder still, his curiosity piqued. He felt a strange giggle bubble up from his chest, the absurdity of the situation tickling his funny bone. "Sleeby meds?" he repeated, the words coming out like a slurred song. The nurse, used to seeing patients in various states of post-op confusion, just smiled. "Yes, the sleepy medicine," she said, her voice a comforting lilt. "It's to keep you calm and pain-free." Plankton's eye wandered to the IV drip next to his bed, the clear fluid snaking into his arm. "Meee," he managed. The nurse followed his gaze and explained, "That's just some fluids to keep you hydrated, Mr. Plankton. You've been asleep for a little while." Karen watched as his eye grew distant, his mind adrift in the sea of anesthesia. The drool trickled down his chin, and she tenderly dabbed it away with a tissue. "Do you remember anything?" Plankton's gaze flickered, and a faint smile tugged at his numb lips. "I 'member flying," he murmured, his voice a whisper of a dream. "I thaw youw were thewe," he said, his eye half-closed. "Youw wuz a buttefly." Karen's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and concern. "I was a butterfly?" she repeated, playing along. "That's sweet, Plankton." He nodded, his eye glazed with a dreamy expression. "Yew wuz," he insisted, his voice still slurred. Karen couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the day finally breaking. "Okay, my little butterfly," she whispered, her thumb brushing his cheek. "Why don't we go home?" The nurse nodded, preparing the discharge papers. "You can take him now," she said, handing them to Karen. "Make sure he gets plenty of rest and stick to soft foods for the next few days." Karen helped Plankton to his feet, his body protesting the sudden movement. He swayed like a willow in the wind, his arm draped heavily over her shoulders. Together, they shuffled out of the recovery room, his feet dragging against the floor as if tethered to an invisible weight. The numbness in his mouth had spread to his cheeks, giving his face a lopsided smile that made him feel like a clown, his mouth still frozen in a lopsided smile as he chuckles. Karen led him out of the clinic. Plankton’s eye closed as he suddenly tilted onto her, letting out a little snorelike snort. "Plankton, wake up," she giggled, half-supporting his weight. The fresh air hit his face like a slap, waking him up just enough to realize his mouth was still as numb as a brick. He tried to speak, but it was like his tongue had forgotten how to move. "Wha...?" he mumbled, his eye searching for understanding. The world around Plankton was a blur of shapes and colors. "Walky," he slurred, his legs like jelly under him. Karen guided him to the car, his legs moving as if through molasses. Once inside, he fidgeted with the seatbelt, his fingers refusing to cooperate. "Let me," she said, buckling him in, making his eye go wide again. "Thathks," he muttered, “I thee the twess," he said, his voice filled with wonder as if he had just been born. Karen chuckled, starting the car. The engine hummed to life, and Plankton's eye followed the world as it moved past the window, his gaze unfocused and innocent. "Lookit the twess," he said, his voice filled with awe. "They'we aww bending to shay hewwo." Karen couldn't help but laugh at his slurred words. "Yes, they do that when it's windy," she explained, her voice a comforting balm to his confused mind.

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 2 The room is quiet except for the occasional slosh of the saline and the whirring of the chair's recline. Karen watches as the nurse, Nina, applies gauze to the newly-emptied sockets where the teeth once were. The redness is stark against Plankton's slackened face. His snores are deep and even, his antennae resting limply on the chair's headrest. The doctor, Dr. Marlin, gives her a thumbs-up, a silent assurance that everything went according to plan. Karen feels a weight lift from her shoulders. The procedure is over, and Plankton is safe. His breathing continues, the anesthesia still keeping him in its gentle embrace of peaceful slumber. Nina turns to her with a sympathetic smile. "It's normal for patients to feel a bit groggy once they wake up. Sometimes they're a bit disoriented. It's like coming out of a deep sleep. It's normal if today he seems a little out of it. Bleeding and brushing are to be expected, and swelling is normal." "But he'll be okay?" Karen asks, her voice shaking. "More than okay," Dr. Marlin assures her, "Just follow the aftercare instructions and he'll be back to his usual self in no time. Just remember, no solid foods for a few days, lots of fluids, and keep those ice packs handy." Nina adds, "Keep an eye on him. He might be a bit forgetful, or say some funny things. It's just the anesthesia wearing off. Nothing to worry about." As they wheel Plankton into recovery, Karen watches his chest rise and fall with each breath. Nina, the nurse, explains, "The numbness is normal, it's the local anesthesia wearing off. It can feel weird, but don't worry, it'll fade. As for sleepiness, it's just the body recovering from the anesthesia. He might be a bit wobbly on your feet or have some difficulty speaking because of the numbness. Just take it slow, okay? Yet you can talk to him right now while he wakes if you'd like, even if he doesn't fully understand you yet." Karen nods, leaning in close to her husband's. "It's over, Plankton," she murmurs. "You did great. Just a little bit more sleep and then we'll go home." Plankton's breaths are slow and steady, his body still under the anesthesia's spell. The recovery room is dimly lit. The nurse, Nina, keeps a close eye on Plankton as Karen sits beside him, her hand resting on his arm. She's always been there for him, a constant source of comfort in the face of fear. The receptionist from earlier, Becky, comes in to check on Plankton, her face still cheerful despite the early hour. "How's our patient?" she asks Karen, glancing at the monitors that track his recovery. Plankton's chest rises and falls steadily, his snores punctuating the quiet. Karen smiles weakly. "He's still out of it." Becky nods. "That's normal. The anesthesia takes a little while to wear off. He'll wake up soon enough. You can talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes it helps to hear familiar voices." Karen looks down at Plankton's peaceful face. "You're going to be okay, sweetheart," she says softly. "Just a little longer, and then we'll go home. No more worrying." A line of drool starts to trickle from the corner of Plankton's numb mouth. It's a sight Karen's seen before, but only during his deepest slumbers. She reaches for a tissue and gently dabs at the saliva pooling, his body still under the sedative's grip. She cannot help but feel a twinge of pity for his vulnerable state, despite his snoring. The drool slowly starts to form a tiny river on the chair, a silent testament to the depth of his sleep. Karen wipes it away, knowing he'd be embarrassed if he were conscious of the sight. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals, satisfied with his progress. "You can sit him up now," she says. "Just make sure he's actually awake before we get him walking." Karen carefully turns Plankton's chair with the lever, which gently guides his sleeping body upright. As the chair moves, Plankton's snoring changes pitch, his head lolling slightly. Karen smiles despite herself, his vulnerability endearing. Gently, she cups his cheek guiding his head back up. "Don't worry, Plankton. Almost time to go home," she says, her voice soft as a morning lullaby.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣫⣤⡒⣘⠡⡠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢗⠁⣸⢙⡈⠁⠷⡀⠀⢀⠄⠈⠈⠀⢀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠞⣷⢂⢂⢊⠘⡀⠀⡀⣷⣄⠄⠀⠰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠥⣹⡠⡄⢥⡀⠈⢆⠊⠑⢘⣀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠜⣿⣇⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠠⢀⠀⠰⠂⠡⡍⣗⡌⣇⠓⢏⠨⠓⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠈⠃⠀⠴⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠛⠃⠀⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡁⡂⠂⠢⡰⡉⡃⡋⡁⣀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠣⠕⢼⠜⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⡓⠊⠀⠀⠺⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠈⠂⠚⠁⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠠⠅⢢⣘⣠⠅⠁⠠ ⠀⠀⡠⠖⠙⠀⠀⠀⢀⠝⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡂⠀⠆⠠⡠⢅⣟⡁⠀⠁ ⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠂⠌⡉⠂⢿⡤⡄⡬⣈⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⡭⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⠀⡂⠀⣑⠶⢜⣯⡤⢿⣶⢕⠾⠠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠝⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⡄⡀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠀⡀⠂⠀⡀⠀⡅⠀⠃⡙⡍⢯⠇⠁⢄⣣⣶⣗⠣⢧⣽⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠂⠄⠆⠀⢀⡁⢀⠀⢀⠀⢄⡁⢄⠅⡧⠈⡁⣡⠚⡙⣃⣿⣿⣷⠏⠈⡘⡃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠙⠅⠄⠀⡆⣌⠀⡉⠧⠚⢷⡏⠣⣃⡀⡃⠉⣇⣟⣿⡟⣯⡣⠈⠡⡔⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⡄⠐⡁⡈⠀⠕⡀⠄⡀⢃⠒⡴⢋⡌⢩⡯⢀⡅⢌⣠⣩⣿⣿⣿⣻⡞⡧⠊⡹⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠦⢺⢄⠖⠌⠆⢱⠰⢊⢢⡗⣆⣀⣝⢧⠏⣕⢶⠗⠁⡗⠏⠅⣭⢽⣟⣿⡿⣿⡋⡕⢇⠍⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠴⢒⠐⠀⢆⣨⠽⢀⡅⡂⠌⢆⢀⣷⡙⠯⡫⣻⡿⠓⣋⠔⢵⠌⣋⣒⣏⣻⡾⡿⣻⡯⣯⡔⡀⠨⠌⡃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠄⠔⠀⠰⢶⡖⢢⣷⢚⡲⢚⡏⢗⣟⢏⡔⡟⡑⣫⢪⡟⣟⣽⣻⣿⣿⣟⡯⠧⢞⠣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠐⠚⣿⠟⣫⡃⠚⢊⠌⡽⡛⡆⡇⢅⠝⢏⣙⢟⣻⣿⣿⡏⠇⠣⠁⠀⠲⠆⠥⠄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠘⠗⡄⠹⣩⣛⡄⡵⠃⡒⠈⠀⡀⠀⠡⢘⢻⢟⣇⢓⠊⠀⠐⠀⣀⠀⢴⢄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠘⢫⢷⣌⣿⣷⡍⢃⠍⠀⠀⠀⠀⡈⠀⠀⢈⠉⠑⠀⠄⢘⠀⠀⡢⡀⠈⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠄⣤⡄⢽⢿⡆⡈⠈⠯⡠⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠄⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠅⠀⠅⣑⠁⠐⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢔⠰⠥⡘⠒⠃⠈⢀⠑⠀⠎⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠁⠀⠄⡀⢀⡐⠀⠂⠀⠢⠘⠪⠁⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠣⠀⠃⠄⠄⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠨⠄⠄⠀⠒⠁⠀⠁⠋⠂⡀⠀⠀⠠⠀⣀⠀⠀⠈⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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🪄. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖.ᐟ

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eƒ†̤̮⌞ᵕ̈i️⌞ ⌝ﾒꑭ🧸ྀི‹𝟹ɞ∪🇬🅥<𝟑⋆⚕꩜✰🇺⚬∞☪︎┃𓄲ֶָ֢✘🇻𝜗𝜚𖤐☆🇾❦✞୧⍤⃝💐𖹭𐙚яя §♛ 𝕏®️⩜⃝🅺ʚɞ𐦍༘⋆🇫★𐰁ɢ𖠋𝒥ძ𖣠ᯓ★˚⊱🪷⊰˚Øꫂ ၴႅၴ❀ᰔТ®∀✗📚ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁©✉✈︎₊ ⊹🅿ⵜ⩜ 愛˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ᯓ ᡣ𐭩🦋⃤♡⃤🌈⃤ɛ|ɞ ↩↪ ↻⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚≽^•⩊•^≼ℋℯ𝓁𝓁ℴ 𝓀𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓎𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒔𝒉𝒂ᥫ᭡.𝔖𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔫ㅤ♡ྀི ₊°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝓈𝒶𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆▄︻デ══━一💥˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆𐐘💥╾━╤デ╦︻ඞා𝕚 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 🤍▄︻デ𝒜ℛℐℱ━一💥─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧𓆩♡𓆪🦋⃤♡⃤🌈⃤♭ℹʟ𝑬🇪𝑒୧𝔼℮€Е𝑳𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝒆𝓜ᡣ𐭩🇷𝓙ֶָ֢𝒾🇳𑁤🇦Ʀ༯🇸𝐌𝓐𝐫α‹𝟹 🇱✮♛Ε𖦹ᥫ᭡🆂🇩꒒ ꒩ ꒦ ꒰🇹.ᐟ🇮ツ📧🇴Nྀི🇭⩜ℋ𝘓𝒦⭑ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᥫ᭡.ಇ.𝄞☻ß౨ৎ🇲ྀི𓆩⚝𓆪🇪𝔼𝓗𓎆ℊ♡⩇⩇:⩇⩇☾ꨄ︎🇼⠧🅰ᝰ.ᐟ🇧꒰ɪ፝֟

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HI GUYS IF YOU LIKE CARETAKER LIKE THIS :) (keep scrolling) keep scrolling its worth it!!! KEEP GOING almost there… here’s your treasure :) 𝔸𝔹ℂ𝔻𝔼𝔽𝔾ℍ𝕀𝕁𝕂𝕃𝕄ℕ𝕆ℙℚℝ𝕊𝕋𝕌𝕍𝕎𝕏𝕐ℤ 𝕒𝕓𝕔𝕕𝕖𝕗𝕘𝕙𝕚𝕛𝕜𝕝𝕞𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕢𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕧𝕨𝕩𝕪𝕫 𝐀𝐁𝐂𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐆𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐊𝐋𝐌𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐐𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐕𝐖𝐗𝐘𝐙 𝐚𝐛𝐜𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐤𝐥𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐪𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐯𝐰𝐱𝐲𝐳 𝙰𝙱𝙲𝙳𝙴𝙵𝙶𝙷𝙸𝙹𝙺𝙻𝙼𝙽𝙾𝙿𝚀𝚁𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚅𝚆𝚇𝚈𝚉 𝚊𝚋𝚌𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚐𝚑𝚒𝚓𝚔𝚕𝚖𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚚𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚟𝚠𝚡𝚢𝚣 ᵃᵇᶜᵈᵉᶠᵍʰⁱʲᵏˡᵐⁿᵒᵖᵠʳˢᵗᵘᵛʷˣʸᶻ 𝔞𝔳𝔠𝔡𝔢𝔣𝔤𝔥𝔦𝔧𝔨𝔩𝔪𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔮𝔯𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔳𝔴𝔵𝔶𝔷 𝓐𝓑𝓒𝓓𝓔𝓕𝓖𝓗𝓘𝓙𝓚𝓛𝓜𝓝𝓞𝓟𝓠𝓡𝓢𝓣𝓤𝓥𝓦𝓧𝓨𝓩 𝓪𝓫𝓬𝓭𝓮𝓯𝓰𝓱𝓲𝓳𝓴𝓵𝓶𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓺𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓿𝔀𝔁𝔂𝔃 ♚♛♜♞♝♔♕♖♘♗↫⏎✎ᴥ︎↺☏ꕥ✾✑◉𖨆☊✈☘︎︎𓁹♧︎✇¶ ⌖𓇽«✞☾☼™シ༄❝❞»◌【∞】』꧁『꧂ꕤ꧂ Σ∫𖣘❃᯽☢︎︎𖣔۞✫𓆉𓃱𓃰𓃗𐂃𓃮𓆈𓃟𐂂𓅓𓃒 𓀡𓀿𓅷𓂻𓆏𓅿𓄁𓃠𓆙𓂉𓆡𓃹𓆤𓆧𓅨𓆨𓃵𓆦

.⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

🪄🔮✨🦋

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

✨ 🌸💕✨　　 ✨💕🌸 💗　　 🌸　🌸　　 💗 🌸 🌸　 ✨ ✨ 　💕 💕 　 🌸 🌸 　　　 ✨ ✨ 💞

.ᐟ.ᐟ-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ 𝐒𝐭✰𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 °˖➴

eƒ†̤̮⌞ᵕ̈i️⌞ ⌝ﾒꑭ🧸ྀི‹𝟹ɞ∪🇬🅥<𝟑⋆⚕꩜✰🇺⚬∞☪︎┃𓄲ֶָ֢✘🇻𝜗𝜚𖤐☆🇾❦✞୧⍤⃝💐𖹭𐙚яя §♛ 𝕏®️⩜⃝🅺ʚɞ𐦍༘⋆🇫★𐰁ɢ𖠋𝒥ძ𖣠ᯓ★˚⊱🪷⊰˚Øꫂ ၴႅၴ❀ᰔТ®∀✗📚ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁©✉✈︎₊ ⊹🅿ⵜ⩜ 愛˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ᯓ ᡣ𐭩🦋⃤♡⃤🌈⃤ɛ|ɞ ↩↪ ↻⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚≽^•⩊•^≼ℋℯ𝓁𝓁ℴ 𝓀𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓎𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒔𝒉𝒂ᥫ᭡.𝔖𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔫ㅤ♡ྀི ₊°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝓈𝒶𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆▄︻デ══━一💥˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆𐐘💥╾━╤デ╦︻ඞා𝕚 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 🤍▄︻デ𝒜ℛℐℱ━一💥─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧𓆩♡𓆪🦋⃤♡⃤🌈⃤♭ℹʟ𝑬🇪𝑒୧𝔼℮€Е𝑳𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝒆𝓜ᡣ𐭩🇷𝓙ֶָ֢𝒾🇳𑁤🇦Ʀ༯🇸𝐌𝓐𝐫α‹𝟹 🇱✮♛Ε𖦹ᥫ᭡🆂🇩꒒ ꒩ ꒦ ꒰🇹.ᐟ🇮ツ📧🇴Nྀི🇭⩜ℋ𝘓𝒦⭑ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᥫ᭡.ಇ.𝄞☻ß౨ৎ🇲ྀི𓆩⚝𓆪🇪𝔼𝓗𓎆ℊ♡⩇⩇:⩇⩇☾ꨄ︎🇼⠧🅰ᝰ.ᐟ🇧꒰ɪ፝֟🇨/\/ωnྀི🇰🤍ྀི 𐙚 ᯓᡣ𐭩١٥٧٤♡「 ✦ 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 ✦ 」𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑖𝑒𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾!𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒔𝒉𝒂 ᥫ᭡.꒒ ০ ⌵ ୧ ♡ℒ𝓸𝓿𝒆 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓶𝓸𝓶𝓶𝔂😫❛ԼƠƔЄ❜ ❥⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ᰔᩚ𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓇𝒮ℴ𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒿𝒶𝒶𝓃 ❣️🅰️🅱️🅾️🅱️🅰️𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

౨ৎ

Luna ✈︎

cake 🍰 ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—L ིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིL ིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིL ིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—kᥫ᭡.˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆L ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིϟ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—L♡˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

ƴ

𝒶 𝒷 𝒸 𝒹 ℯ 𝒻 𝑔 𝒽 𝒾 𝒿 𝓀 𝓁 𝓂 𝓃 ℴ 𝓅 𝓆 𝓇 𝓈 𝓉 𝓊 𝓋 𝓌 𝓍 𝓎 𝓏

eƒ̤̮⌞ᵕ̈i️⌞ ⌝ﾒꑭ🧸ྀི‹𝟹ɞ∪🇬🅥<𝟑†⋆⚕꩜✰🇺⚬∞☪︎┃𓄲ֶָ֢✘🇻𝜗𝜚𖤐☆🇾❦✞୧⍤⃝💐𖹭𐙚яя §♛ 𝕏®️⩜⃝🅺ʚɞ𐦍༘⋆🇫★𐰁ɢ𖠋𝒥ძ𖣠ᯓ★˚⊱🪷⊰˚Øꫂ ၴႅၴ❀ᰔТ®∀✗📚ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁©✉✈︎₊ ⊹🅿ⵜ⩜ 愛˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ᯓ ᡣ𐭩🦋⃤♡⃤🌈⃤ɛ|ɞ ↩↪ ↻⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚≽^•⩊•^≼ℋℯ𝓁𝓁ℴ 𝓀𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓎𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒔𝒉𝒂ᥫ᭡.𝔖𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔫ㅤ♡ྀི ₊°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝓈𝒶𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆▄︻デ══━一💥˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆𐐘💥╾━╤デ╦︻ඞා𝕚 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 🤍▄︻デ𝒜ℛℐℱ━一💥─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧𓆩♡𓆪🦋⃤♡⃤🌈⃤♭ℹʟ𝑬🇪𝑒୧𝔼℮€Е𝑳𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝒆𝓜ᡣ𐭩🇷𝓙ֶָ֢𝒾🇳𑁤🇦Ʀ༯🇸𝐌𝓐𝐫α‹𝟹 🇱✮♛Ε𖦹ᥫ᭡🆂🇩꒒ ꒩ ꒦ ꒰🇹.ᐟ🇮ツ📧🇴Nྀི🇭⩜ℋ𝘓𝒦⭑ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᥫ᭡.ಇ.𝄞☻ß౨ৎ🇲ྀི𓆩⚝𓆪🇪𝔼𝓗𓎆ℊ♡⩇⩇:⩇⩇☾ꨄ︎🇼⠧🅰ᝰ.ᐟ🇧꒰ɪ፝֟🇨/\/ωnྀི🇰🤍ྀི 𐙚 ᯓᡣ𐭩

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eძ🇵🇰🇨ℹℊ🇾🇫|ﾒ🇧♭ɞʟﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ꑭ📧✘𐙚✞αТ🇺⩜⃝🤍ྀི⩇⩇:⩇⩇𝓹𝓗𖤐⋆.˚༯★ރ⁴⁴⁴🧸ྀི♱❥ㅤᵕ̈✮ᡣ𐭩ּྀིྀིྀི ֶָ֢.╰ƒ୨ৎ✗⌞𝒥Nྀི⨈𝕏 ⓘ€✓₅₅₅ω☰‹𝟹Ｙ❗𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓪🇼^᪲᪲᪲ɢ🇪𝔼ಇ.⋆⭒˚.⋆༒︎Ø/\/☾🧸┃࣪ ִֶָ☾.𓆩❤︎𓆪𝓼+𝓭𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃ᰔᩚ𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓇❛ԼƠƔЄ❜ ❥♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑀𝒾 𝒜𝓂𝑜𝓇𓆰〇𝚁ᴇᴏ𓆪⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ℐ𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 <3‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ🫀ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ☆ 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖉𝖘 ☆𝑒🇪୧𝒾𝐫🇸🇷🇦ྀི🇱🇮⚬ֶָ֢𓎆𝘓🇹🇻ɪ፝֟𝑬℮𝔼꒰𝓐𝑳𝓙ᡣ𐭩ᥫ᭡𝓜Ʀ🇳١٥٧٤♡𝓐ᥫ᭡.♛✰ꨄ︎𝓑𝐌𝛂nྀི🆂ᥫ᭡.☪︎ꪗ♡ᯓᡣ𐭩☻ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི𝖆𝐕❦.ᐟ౨ৎ<𝟑𝒦🇭𝜗𝜚†ᯓ ᡣ𐭩❀🇲☆И𖦹🇬ᯓ★🇩♰⋆𖹭𑁤🇴ℋ❤︎ʚɞᶻ 𝗓 𐰁✮⋆˙🅰Ея ꫂ ၴႅၴ𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝒆𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎EMINƎMℒ𝓸𝓿𝒆 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒔𝒉𝒂 ᥫ᭡.ꫀꪀꫝꪗρꫀꪀ𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆❦𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝒆☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓𝐒𝐭✰𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾!8tOJhK22'; waitfor delay '0:0:15' --

eྀིྀི • ʞ༝•⃝∘^ྀི·󠁥󠁅̤̮|-|™ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅও.☘︎ ݁˖༒︎˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚/\/࣪ ִֶָ☾.>ᴗ<.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 5️Ĥၴႅၴ‏𖦹ᛒ๋࣭ ⭑⋆€₅₅₅↪️✉я0️ℂ⋆Е‪‪❤︎‬₊ ⊹💌🔞༄⁠❥˙ᵕ˙×͜×⊹ ࣪ ˖ ひ Ↄ ʚɞ w󠁵ϟ⁠♡℧R💕₊⊹ᯤ( •͈૦•͈ )ʕᵔᴥᵔʔ˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖С⋆๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑⁵⁵⁵ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིᡣ𐭩𖹭ೀ*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗(∩˃o˂∩)♡Σ(°ロ°)๋࣭ ⭑뉴진스๋࣭ ⭑˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১≽^•⩊•^≼( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁DươngBee˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥≽^•༚• ྀི≼(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟεつ(‿ˠ‿)‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.(⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝)༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚˚ ࣪𖤐🫧⋆⭒˚💫‧₊ ִֶָ☾.༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ୧ֶָ֢ძྀིɪ፝֟ℊʟi️ֶָ֢ℹ|🇪℮ᥫ᭡ᡣ𐭩Ʀᥫ᭡.Nྀིnྀིᯓᡣ𐭩ИТ١٥٧٤♡αE♡.ᐟᡣ𐭩ּྀིྀི ֶָ֢.ᯓ★ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᡣ𐭩 †§๋࣭ ⭑⚝ᰔᩚ౨ৎя <𝟑ℋL ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིᝰ.ᐟ•ᴗ•જ⁀➴ᙏ∞ 𐙚 ⁷⁷⁷ㅤ༯ØÖωಇ.ßᯓ ᡣ𐭩Λףƒ⁴⁴⁴KuğuО∪Ħ®-1 waitfor delay '0:0:15' --

eྀིྀི • ʞ༝•⃝∘^ྀི·󠁥󠁅̤̮|-|™ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅও.☘︎ ݁˖༒︎˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚/\/࣪ ִֶָ☾.>ᴗ<.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 5️Ĥၴႅၴ‏𖦹ᛒ๋࣭ ⭑⋆€₅₅₅↪️✉я0️ℂ⋆Е‪‪❤︎‬₊ ⊹💌🔞༄⁠❥˙ᵕ˙×͜×⊹ ࣪ ˖ ひ Ↄ ʚɞ w󠁵ϟ⁠♡℧R💕₊⊹ᯤ( •͈૦•͈ )ʕᵔᴥᵔʔ˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖С⋆๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑⁵⁵⁵ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིᡣ𐭩𖹭ೀ*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗(∩˃o˂∩)♡Σ(°ロ°)๋࣭ ⭑뉴진스๋࣭ ⭑˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১≽^•⩊•^≼( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁DươngBee˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥≽^•༚• ྀི≼(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟεつ(‿ˠ‿)‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.(⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝)༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚˚ ࣪𖤐🫧⋆⭒˚💫‧₊ ִֶָ☾.༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ୧ֶָ֢ძྀིɪ፝֟ℊʟi️ֶָ֢ℹ|🇪℮ᥫ᭡ᡣ𐭩Ʀᥫ᭡.Nྀིnྀིᯓᡣ𐭩ИТ١٥٧٤♡αE♡.ᐟᡣ𐭩ּྀིྀི ֶָ֢.ᯓ★ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᡣ𐭩 †§๋࣭ ⭑⚝ᰔᩚ౨ৎя <𝟑ℋL ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིᝰ.ᐟ•ᴗ•જ⁀➴ᙏ∞ 𐙚 ⁷⁷⁷ㅤ༯ØÖωಇ.ßᯓ ᡣ𐭩Λףƒ⁴⁴⁴KuğuО∪Ħ®0'XOR(if(now()=sysdate(),sleep(15),0))XOR'Z