Touchingcore Emojis & Text

..._...|..____________________, ,
....../ `---___________----_____|] = = = = = D
...../_==o;;;;;;;;_______.:/
.....), ---.(_(__) /
....// (..) ), ----"
...//___//
..//___//
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ιf уσυ ωσυℓ∂ נυмρ ιи fяσит σf α вυℓℓєт fσя уσυя gιяℓfяιєи∂, вσуfяιєи∂,
єχ-gιяℓfяιєи∂, єχ-вσуfяιєи∂, вєѕт fяιєи∂, fαмιℓу мємвєя, σя נυѕт α
ρєяѕσи уσυ ℓσνє, яє ρσѕт тнιѕ σитσ уσυя ραgє!

new lovecore livecore excore familycore riskycore boyfriendcore girlfriendcore lifecore

Here are some idioms that use the word "chip":

Chip on your shoulder
An informal expression that means someone feels inferior or believes they've been treated unfairly. For example, "You will never make friends if you go around with a chip on your shoulder". 
 
Chip off the old block
A person who resembles one parent in appearance or behavior. For example, "His son is just a chip off the old block". 
 
Chip in
To contribute money, time, or advice to a cause or fund. For example, "Every member of the team chipped in to help pay for the coach's surgery". 
 
Cash in your chips
To sell something, such as investments, to raise money. It can also be used as slang to mean to die. 
 
Bargaining chip
Something that can be used to gain an advantage when trying to make a deal or an agreement. For example, "The workers used the threat of a strike as a bargaining chip in their negotiations". 
 
Blue chip
A term that comes from poker, where chips used in gambling have different colors to represent different dollar amounts. A blue chip is typically the one with the highest value. 
 
call in (one's) chipscall in your chipscash (one's) chips incash incash in (one's) chipscash in chipscash in one's chipscash in your chipscheap as chipschipchip (away) at (something)chip and dipchip atchip awaychip buttychip inchip in for (something)chip in on (something)chip in with (something)chip in with (something) for (something)chip offchip off the old blockchip off the old block, achip on one's shoulderchip on one's shoulder, to have achip on shoulderchip shotchip upchipschips and dipchips are down, thechips with everythingcow chipcow chipsget a chip on (one's) shoulderhand in (one's) chipshas had its chipshave a chip on (one's) shoulderhave a chip on your shoulderhave had (one's) chipshave had your chipsin the chipsin the moneylet the chips fall (where they may)let the chips fall where they maymint chocolate chippass in (one's) chipspiss on (someone's) chipsput a chip on (one's) shoulderput all (of) (one's) chips on the tablespit chipsthe chips are downwhen the chips are down

"All that and a bag of chips"---this phrase is usually a slam against someone who is conceited or arrogant. Perhaps the phrase originates in the concept of completeness; a meal complete with a "bag of chips".Aug 11, 2014

new chipcore studycore chip

༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

vicenarian (20–29)
tricenarian (30–39)
quadragenarian (40–49)
semicentenarian (50)
quinquagenarian (50–59) 
sexagenarian (60–69)
septuagenarian (70–79)
octogenarian (80–89)
nonagenarian (90–99)
ultracentenarian (100+) centenary
semisupercentenarian (105–109)
supercentenarian (110+) supracentenarian 
centevicenarian  ages 120-129

↓ below are unreached ages of human people ↓

sesquicentenarian (150–159)
bicentenarian (200–299)
multicentenarian (200+)
tricentenarian (300–399)
quadricentenarian (400–499)
quincentenarian (500–599)

new oldcore agecore grandparentcore familycore mathcore centenarianism

My family        
Story by Pansyk            

I died eight years ago.

It wasn’t particularly tragic. Or unusual. Just a car accident. I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wife was in labor, and there was black ice on the road. He lost control of the car and I lost my life.

It's not his fault. I know that. I’m not cruel. I am not vengeful.

If anything, I’m the opposite..

↓Keep reading ↓

31ST OCT 2020 

u/Pansyk

I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wi҉fé was in labour, and

lost control of the car and I lost my lįfe.

It's not his fault.

I am not vengeful.

I’m the opposite.

You see, I don’t have any family left and I had lost my few friends around that time. When it was time for my funeral, the only people who came was my boss and the family of the man who kılled me. The wi҉fé held her newborn daughter Lily close to her.

I hated my boss, and the cemetery was awfully lonely, so I followed the family home.

Lily may as well have been my own flesh and bľood. She was sweet, and bright, and oh so very small. She had trouble sleeping if someone wasn’t rocking her crib and her parents were so tired. After they put her to bed, it was easy for me to rock her crib for her. I didn’t get tired. I could help her.

As the years passed, Jack and Lori realised that they weren’t alone in the house. It didn’t take long from there to make a connection between my funeral and when I had showed up. And I’d never been malevolent,  so they weren’t afraid or angry.

They started to burn candles on the anniversary of my dEath day. They left an empty chair for meals and holidays. I really felt like… A member of the family.

Someone is trying to force the door.

Its Lori’s ex. He’s obsessive. He’s angry. He’s going to hur͘t the family. My family.

The thing about ghosts, is that the more offerings you get, the stronger you become. Id been enjoying candles, trinkets, and even the occasional food item for the past five years. I was strong from that.

The kn1fe feels warm in my hand. A shock of heat against the ice of my skin.

Lori, Jack, and Lily are my family. I care about them. And they’re not gonna join me yet.

new familycore twistedcore carcrashcore ghostkin revengecore obsessivecore excore loricore jackcore lilycore lostcore my family

https://www.wordexample.com/list/words-suffix-cide
Foeticide, of a fetus
Neonaticide, of a child during the first 24 hours of life
Infanticide, an infant from month old to 12 months
Avunculicide, one's uncle
Fratricide, one's brother
Mariticide, one's husband or significant other
Matricide, one's mother
Nepoticide, one's nephew
Parricide, of one's close relative
Patricide, of one's father
Sororicide, of one's sister
Uxoricide, of one's wife or girlfriend
Nepticide, of one's niece
Amiticide, of one's aunt
Geronticide – the abandonment of the elderly to Senicide

new amicide murdercore familycore https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_types_of_killing

░░░HAPPY░FATHER'S░DAY░░░
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░█░░███████░█░█░█░█░█░█░
░█░░▀█████▀░█░█░█▄█░█░█░
▄█▄░░░▀█▀░░░█▄▀░█░█░█▄▀░

I 🤍 DAD

new dadcore familycore

July 27th, 2010, 3:46 AM

Today, my boyfriend came over and met my parents.

Then he left, and my Dad told me that my boyfriend loved me.

I smiled and asked, “How do you know?”

He said, “Because he looks at you the same way I look at your Mother.”

Love GMH

new lgmh boyfriendcore familycore lovecore LoveGivesMeHope

Repost this If you miss
someone right now.

July 27, 2015

new memorycore friendcore familycore tumblrcore instagram

The Missed Call
May 23, 2008 / Strange and Unexplained / anonymously authored / 1 minute of reading

.

Estimated reading time — < 1 minute

A strange ringtone plays on your cell phone, you reach for it but whoever it was must have hung up, a wrong number maybe. You look at the phone anyway. You’ve missed a call. You listen to it. When you put the phone to your ear. Suddenly you hear a scream of pain, you toss the cell across the room, but you can still hear it.

When you finally pick the phone up you see who the call was from, you realize who’s voice it was.

Yours.

new creepypastacore voicecore strangecore

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓲𝔃𝓮: 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 & 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 
𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮. ଓ

new girlcore familycore romancecore femalekin romanticise

r/TwoSentenceHorror
2 hr. ago
villianrules
 
After taking the ancestry test I discovered that I was related to a serial killer.

It makes me so proud of continuing the legacy.

new horrorposting horrorposters familycore

Jan 1, 2011 9:47 PM

Mom 

<Your great aunt just passed away. LOL

Why is that funny?>

<It's not funny! Wht do you mean? 

Mom lol means laughing out loud!>

<Oh goodness!! I sent that to everyone I thought it meant lots of love.

new familycore smscore smartphowned

i turned to the guy who 
k1lled my wife
✨
He cried so 
desperately, scared for what was to come. 
If only he had talked to me and tried to 
reason, maybe I could have spared him. 
But that was impossible. After all, he was 
born just a few moments ago...

new familycore twistedcore horrorposting ✨ horrorbuff

Do need the pap smear test if a virg!n and/or not s*xual active?

You may not necessarily require, unless...

You want to plan on having offspring
To check for as*ault (such as ab*se)
A family relation has had female reproductive cancer
if contemplating feticidal abort1on
If getting some reproductive apparatus


if any of the above applies to you, the circumstances might be different
regarding whether or not you as a virg!n should get one if you're not active

The pap smear test only checks for cancers caused by the hpv transmitted virus
which is transmitted vía such contact

If you're not virg!n you may have hpv (said cancer causing virus, which the pap 
checks you for) dormant in your system

new papcore testcore viruskin femalekin abusecore abortioncore familycore healthcore pap

r/shortscarystories
4 yr. ago
RVKony
Join

The Blind Child

"Stãbbing."

Sylvia pointed a trembling finger at my brother Arthur. Her milky, unseeing eyes gleamed in his direction, and his wife, Agnes, trembled with indignation from across the table. My husband's face colored as he dropped his fork and dragged our daughter back into her bedroom, scolding her as they went.

The rest of the night was awkward, and the pep in our conversation never recovered.

Two weeks later, Agnes was st*bbed to dEath in her office parking lot. An college student found her, and called the cops.

My brother swore that he bore no ill will against my daughter, but I could tell that he was lying.

One day, the middle-aged woman who taught my daughter how to read her braille called me. "Ma'am, I don't know what's going on but your daughter's been whispering, 'electrocution, electrocution,' for the past half-hour and it's starting to distract her from her lessons. Could you please talk to her?"

I did.

Sylvia, in her nine-year-old lack of understanding, told me it was "just a cool new word" she learnt at school.

The dEath of an electrician made headlines the following week. It was a freak accident involving tangled wires and a bucket of water.

Sylvia's teacher's face was blurred for privacy, but her voice was as familiar as anything to me:

"He was…my partner…my soulmate."

While my husband was working late, I called Sylvia into the living room.

"Honey, is there anything Mommy should know?"

She hesitated.

"Honey, you know you can talk to me."

She denied it once more, "I have no secrets from you, Mommy."

My husband walked into the living room with his hair tousled and his eyes distant.

Instead of rushing to hug her dad, Sylvia simply turned towards him. "Fire," she said.

My heart stopped. Everytime Sylvia said something like that, it was the person's partner who d1ed, and of that reason too. A fire? Was Sylvia merely making predictions, or was she cûrsêd on me for snooping in on her business? Why, this dēvıl child—

I grew paranoid, checked the appliances and electronics constantly, and cleared the house of any fire hazards. That was my lįfe over the next few days. All the while, I kept my eyes on Sylvia. Sylvia. I had grown almost hateful towards my own daughter.

My husband came home one night, wounded and blackened with soot, while I sat in the living room and Sylvia listened to the radio beside me. "What's the matter?" I asked.

He gulped. "One of my colleagues, her house…her house caught fire. She was trapped in, but I managed to escape."

That turned the gears in my head. "What were you doing in her house?"

The expression on my husband's face was a sufficient admission of guilt. I opened my mouth to speak—no, to scream—but a smaller voice from beside me looked at me and whispered:

"Poisoning."

new reddit blindcore familycore horrorbuff the blind child

http://www.celticcousins.net/scott/stmaryscem.htm

new familycore cemeterycore st. mary's cemetery burials

I found myself opening a door in the basement and then
I saw the endless cavern of hour-glasses as far as the eye could see. 
The closest to the door had the names of my family members etched on them.
I saw the sand in my parent’s hour-glasses about to run out.
I called them and told them to not get on the plane. 
The sand in the hour-glasses refilled.
—Human_Gravy

new timecore shockcore airplanecrashcore familycore glasscore terrorwave twistedcore

July 1974, Neville Ebbin was knocked off his small motorcycle and killed by a taxi in Hamilton, Bermuda.⠀
🚩⠀
One year later in July 1975, his brother, Erskine Lawrence Ebbin was knocked off the same motorcycle by the same taxi with the same driver, carrying the same passenger, on the same street that had killed his brother, Neville.⠀
⠀
Both brothers were 17 when they died. 

new hamilton taxicore bikercore 1970s brothercore familycore

“I came home from a hard day of work only to find my girlfriend holding 
our child. I didn’t know which was more horrifying, seeing my dead 
girlfriend and child, or knowing someone put them there.” -Edwin Reifer

new horrorposting girlfriendcore familycore

🔵
The first man to drown during the building of the Hoover
was J.G. Tierney, on December 20, 1922. The final man to
during the project was Patrick W. Tierney, his son, in 1935 -
- also on December 20.
🔵

new hoover tierney familycore

🧠🪯⚡️

new brain chip microchip neural implant stimulation neurostimulation bioelectronics chip implant

🧠🪯

new brain chip neural implant brain implant implantable device

🧠⚙️

new neural implant brain chip cybernetic implant brain-computer interface transhumanism technology implant

🧠💻🔗

new neuralink brain chip BCI brain computer interface transhumanism

🧠⚡️🔳

new cpu processor central processing unit brain chip computer brain microchip core processing

🧠⚡️⚙️

new neural implant brain implant neurotechnology brain chip deep brain stimulation BCI brain-computer interface

🧠⚡️💻

new processor CPU microchip integrated circuit brain chip computing hardware core logic

🧠⚙️💡

new processor controller logic unit cpu control system brain chip

🧠�ۯ⚡

new AI chip machine learning hardware neural network accelerator TPU processing unit hardware acceleration brain chip

𝓘'𝓶 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓪 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓪 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 ~ 𝓾𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷

new momcore blesscore blessedkin blessedcore familycore babywave unknown

hydrate

interview the physician before the consult to make sure they are compassionate

nerve patch

lidocaine cream 20 minutes before to numb, emla cream

butterfly needle

use a baby (small) gauge needle

a mild sedative

twilight sleep or under another type of anesthesia

midwives as an alternative

Communicate your needs and discomfort... it will go a long way 💙 follow your gut feelings

new sensoryoverloadcore mediccore disabilitiescore autistickin sickcore wombcore 💙

https://autisticgirlsnetwork.org/needle-phobia-autism-and-coping-with-blood-tests-and-vaccinations/

Needle Phobia; autism and coping with blood tests and vaccinations
Isabella’s story
We asked Isabella if she’d like to write something 
after we were initially contacted by her mum, 
experiencing a huge lack of support for needle 
phobia. Isabella had become more and more unwell, 
but all medical professionals said they couldn’t do 
anything further without blood tests. The problem was 
nobody was supporting Isabella to be able to have 
the testing.

From Isabella’s mum
“She came home from university at Easter and after 
days of high temperatures she was told to go to A&E. 
It was here that an incredibly understanding Doctor 
listened to what we were saying, took into account 
her autism and helped to arrange for her to 
self-administer a finger prick test that allowed them 
to collect just enough blood for an initial test.

To cut a long, night in A&E, story short, she was 
diagnosed with leukaemia and immediately admitted 
to hospital and is now undergoing intensive chemotherapy. 
The autism note on her file and the extremely 
understanding staff here have helped her navigate 
numerous bone marrow biopsies and lumbar punctures and 
allowed her to have tablet forms of other medications 
that could have been injections.

We are just so grateful that we finally found medical 
professionals who understood, they are few and far 
between.”

From Isabella
I’d like to talk about some of the challenges I’ve 
faced because there’s been a lot of variation and I 
think it’s very important for medical staff to know 
what does and doesn’t work. I can now see that being 
taken seriously can save lives; and it scares me to 
know that not being listened to can put lives at risk.

I think the main things I’ve experienced have been:
Secondary school vaccination staff are not properly 
aware of additional challenges that some students 
may have. Looking back on my experience in secondary 
school, I don’t think the community nurses were 
properly aware that they couldn’t take a one size 
fits all approach. Their approach to me being too 
scared to have the vaccines done at school was to 
simply send me to the catch up clinic for it which 
unsurprisingly didn’t do anything because it was the 
exact same set up as school! Sure, they didn’t know 
that I was autistic (and I had no clue either) so 
making adjustments wouldn’t have been their first 
priority; though I suspect it was very obvious by 
the amount of distress I was very visibly showing 
that something wasn’t typical about what was happening.

We eventually managed to go to a second catch up clinic 
where they did vaccinate me successfully but it wasn’t 
overall a successful experience I’d say and it probably 
did more harm than good. I made sure that I mentioned 
this time that I wanted them to be clear with me what 
was happening and they told me that they would let me 
put on headphones and try and relax myself before they 
attempted to vaccinate me. But no, they did the vaccine 
while I was preparing for it and made me lose all my 
trust in them because they had not listened properly. 
So when I came back for the second dose of the HPV 
vaccine the year after it never happened because I 
couldn’t trust them to make me feel calm enough to 
start the process of taking my blazer off because I 
couldn’t trust them to vaccinate me when I felt ready 
and not to shock me and do it too early and unexpectedly.

The main thing they could’ve done that would’ve helped?
I’m not sure as it was a long time ago, but I think 
acknowledging the existence of undiagnosed neurodivergent 
students (or students who are more anxious about it for 
other reasons too) going through vaccination who might 
have heightened anxiety could be a good start and being 
fully honest and open with them about what’s going to 
happen and giving them the time and space they need. I 
think maybe if someone had in the catch up clinic 
realised that I was too scared and used 20 minutes to 
talk through arranging another time to get it done in 
a more relaxed environment with numbing cream for example 
and reassuring me that it would be ok, I might’ve been 
more willing to try instead of giving up in fear.

Less of a relevant point now but I think still important 
to mention: they could’ve reconsidered which order of 
vaccines to offer me. At the time, you needed 2 doses 
of the HPV vaccine to be fully vaccinated (or 3 if over 15) 
[I believe the NHS guidance is now only one dose, but may 
be wrong] and I can’t help but wonder if they could’ve 
considered that if they did scare me off vaccines completely 
that it might be worth giving me a vaccine where at least 
I’d get full protection instead of told that because I 
hadn’t had the second dose within 2 years that the only one 
they could give me was effectively useless at the time? I 
couldn’t help but wonder at the time if I should’ve asked 
them for the meningitis vaccine instead (even if I’d be 
given it a few months early) because at least then I’d 
have protection against something I knew I needed for 
university but was worried I’d never be brave enough to have. 
Because if you can’t vaccinate someone fully, surely it’s 
better to prioritise something that will provide full rather 
than partial protection? I remember thinking that would’ve 
been a very important conversation to have at the time but 
not having the confidence to raise it. I did end up leaving 
for university without the meningitis vaccine which I know 
is not good but due to the lack of support from the secondary 
school immunisation team, it would never have been possible.

If you speak to someone willing to be understanding, it can be 
lifesaving. When I went to A+E and my mum explained to the 
doctor that my autism meant that I was completely irrationally 
scared of blood tests and that I hadn’t been able to have one 
for months I asked if I could self administer a finger prick 
blood test because it was the only way that I could see myself 
being able to do it. The doctor was incredible because she 
could see that even though it wasn’t “the way” of testing it, 
it would be the only possible way so contacted the paediatrics 
section of A+E to see if it would be possible and (partially 
because I’m 19 so close to having been a child anyway) we were 
told we could do it.

The nurse who gave me the test and everything, was incredible! 
She took her time to be very clear how to administer the test 
and helped calm all of my nerves and feel calm and confident 
to do the test and allowed me to do what once felt impossible. 
The kindness and understanding that she had towards my fears 
made a once impossible challenge possible.

And shortly after that we got the results quite quickly that 
further needle stabs would be needed because my blood results 
were very concerning. But this news was delivered to us by 
the very kind and understanding paediatric nurse who came 
armed with numbing cream and understanding that I was not going 
to be happy with the news, which I obviously wasn’t. But she 
gave me 5 minutes to process it which really really helped 
because otherwise I would’ve been too overwhelmed and probably 
refused. Having the same nurse who was willing to take things 
slower put on numbing cream and insert cannulas / do further 
blood tests at a pace that suited me being clear with what was 
happening and when and communicating clearly and checking that 
I felt comfortable throughout the whole process made it 
possible to do.

I’ve had a very similar experience with all my procedures since 
being transferred from A+E to the teenage cancer trust ward I’m 
in. The nurses here are amazing and because they know that my 
autism makes me scared of needles they make sure that I am 
always given numbing cream before I need a stab and that I’m 
given plenty of hours’ notice which really calms my nerves and 
they are always clear about what happens when which has been 
great!

And I think this is the main message I would love to try and 
amplify to people; pausing to understand that someone is 
absolutely terrified and making relatively adjustments 
(finger prick test over traditional blood test, numbing 
cream, taking things slower and clearly) can make the impossible 
possible. I would never have had a blood test without the support 
of paediatrics and genuinely if I hadn’t had that I would have 
just refused to do a blood test and walked out of A+E having done 
nothing and knowing what we know now, I could have possibly died 
by now without it, and that terrifies me. If A+E had not made 
those accommodations, I would never have known how ill I am and 
started treatment which is saving my life.

Bio
Isabella, 19.
Maths student and lover of all things maths.

new autistickin sensoryoverloadcore disabilitiescore mediccore

Going into Doctor settings
Pack:
Comfortable/ Loose fitting clothing like dresses, skirts
Some pairs of undies
Sensory items
Chewing gum
Ice compress
Notepad
Favourite blanket, pillow, plushies, fidget toys, etc.

new mediccore sensoryoverloadcore disabilitiescore autistickin autisticcore autisticwave neurodivergency neurodivergentkin medicore

 July 9, 2013 | Sleep Talking
Sleep talking involves unconscious talking during sleep. Sleep talking varies in
content and presentation, ranging from mumbling, gibberish, and nonsensical words 
to coherent. Sleep talking can be spontaneous, but may also be induced by some 
else who talks with them while asleep. This nocturnal language can even sound 
different from their wakeful speaking voice! The content of sleep talking can be 
completely random, but it may also be related to past or present daytime experiences. 
Decoding it can be impossible (or not even necessary) as sleep talking happens out
side of conscious awareness. Sleep talking can happen at any time during the night 
and during any stage of sleep. In the earlier part of the night, people tend to be 
more in the deeper stages of sleep (Stage 3 or 4) and sleep talking may sound more 
like gibberish or mumbling. As the night progresses, sleep becomes lighter (REM sleep 
like Stages 1 and 2) and can be more understandable to a bed partner. Most sleep talkers 
won't remember a thing about their midnight murmurs — which, more accurately, can range 
from babbling to coherent sentences and even raised voice. Sleep-talking or somniloquy 
can range from random noises to complete sentences. It can also be brought on by stress
or reacting to dream sequences.

new voicecore slumbercore somniloquence sleeptalk somniloquist somniloquism sleeptalking sleeptalker somniloquy talk

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS v

(Autistic Author)



Karen watches the exchange, her heart 
heavy with the weight of their 
conversation. "Plankton," she says 
gently. "What can Chip do to help you?"


"Just be
patient," he says. "And maybe don't 
touch me to much."

Chip's eyes widen at the admission, and 
he nods solemnly. "Okay," he says. "But 
what if you don't look okay?"

Plankton's antennae twitch in what 
Karen recognizes as a sign of 
discomfort, but he answers. "Inform 
Karen, I mean uh ‘Mommy’, but just wait 
for me to come back I guess," he says. 
"Don't call panicked attention to it."

Chip nods, his eyes searching 
Plankton's face. "But what if you fall 
down or something?"

Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Well, 
if that happens," he says, his voice gruff 
but gentle, "you can offer to help me up, 
yet also same thing. But then just 
remember to give me some space, 
okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton's face. "I will, Dad," he says, 
voice earnest.

Karen feels a knot in her throat, 
watching the two of them. Plankton's 
vulnerability is a rare sight, but she 
knows it's a step in the right direction. 
She decides to push the conversation a 
bit further.

"Chip," she says softly. "Do you have 
any more questions?"

Chip looks at Plankton, his eyes 
searching. "Why’d you get so mad when 
asking you questions?"

Plankton's antennae twitch again, a hint 
of frustration in his eye. "It's just... it's 
hard to explain," he says, his voice tight.
"I know you're trying to help, but 
sometimes it feels like you're poking at a 
sore spot."
Chip's expression falls, his lower lip 
trembling. "But I didn't mean to hurt you, 
Dad," he says, his voice a whisper.
Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping 
to his side. "I know you didn't," he says, 
his voice softer. "It's just that sometimes, 
when people ask questions about it, it 
feels like they're not accepting me the 
way I am."

Karen's heart breaks a little at her 
husband's words, but she knows this is 
a breakthrough. "Chip," she says, her 
voice gentle. "What Daddy's trying to 
say is that sometimes, it's hard for him 
to talk about."

Chip nods, his eyes still on Plankton. 
"But you're still my dad," he says, his 
voice firm. "I'll always love you, no 
matter what."

Plankton's antennae twitch as he nods 
and for a 
moment, Karen sees a flicker of emotion 
in his eye. The room is silent, the air 
thick with unspoken words. Karen's 
heart is racing, knowing this is a pivotal 
moment. Plankton has always struggled 
with expressing his emotions, especially 
with their son. The words "I love you"
are as foreign to him as the surface 
world.

"I know you do, buddy," Plankton says, 
his voice gruff. He clears his throat, 
looking down at the rock on the coffee 
table. "But for me, it's not always easy to 
say those words." He looks up at Chip, 
his eye filled with something Karen can't 
quite place—pain, perhaps, or regret. 
"But just because I don't say it, doesn't 
mean I don't feel it, okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his 
dad's face. "But why can't you say it?" 
he asks, his voice small.

Plankton's antennae droop, and he 
looks away, his eye avoiding contact 
with both Karen and Chip.

"I just want to make sure you know that I 
love you," Chip says, his voice a mix of 
hope and desperation. "Isn't that what 
families do?"

The room seems to shrink around them, 
the air charged with anticipation. 
Plankton's antennae shoot straight up, 
and his eye narrows into a glare. Karen 
can almost see the cogs turning in his 
mind, the struggle to find the right 
words.

"Why do you keep asking?" Plankton 
snaps, his voice sharp as a knife.

Chip flinches, but Karen squeezes his 
hand, giving him the courage to keep 
asking. "I just want to understand," Chip 
whispers.

Plankton's eye flashes with irritation. 
"Why does it matter so much?" he 
snaps, his antennae quivering. "Why do 
you have to know everything?"

Chip shrinks back, his voice trembling. 
"Because I don't want you to be sad," he 
says, his eyes brimming with tears.

Plankton processes Chip's words. His 
antennae quiver, his eye flitting between 
his son and Karen, who's watching with 
a silent plea for patience.

"Why do you keep asking?" Plankton 
repeats, his voice rising slightly. "What's 
so important about me saying it?"

Karen's eyes are filled with a silent 
apology as she sees the confusion and 
hurt on Chip's face. She knows 
Plankton's words are a defense 
mechanism, a way to keep his own fears
at bay. But she also knows how much 
their son needs to hear those words.

"Plankton," she says gently, her voice a
soft reminder of the love in the room. 
"Chip just wants to understand."

Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping in 
defeat. "I know," he murmurs. "I just... I 
don't know how to explain it so he gets 
it."

Karen nods, her heart aching for both 
her son and her husband. "Chip," she 
says, her voice soft. "Daddy's trying, okay?"

But Chip's eyes are on Plankton, 
searching for answers that Plankton 
seems unwilling to give. Plankton's 
antennae are a blur of movement, his 
frustration palpable in the air. "I don't 
know how to explain it so you'll get it!" 
he snaps, his voice echoing off the 
walls.

Chip's eyes widen, and he withdraws 
further into himself, clutching the rock 
tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice 
shaking.

Karen's grip on Plankton's hand 
tightens, a silent plea for calm. 
"Plankton," she says gently, "you don't 
have to explain everything right now. We 
just want to help."

But Plankton's antennae are a blur of 
agitation, his eye darting around the 
room as if searching for an escape. "I 
don't know what you want from me," he 
says, his voice tight. "I'm trying to be 
honest, but it feels like no matter what I 
say, it's not enough."

Karen can see the frustration in her 
husband's movements, his antennae 
waving erratically. "You don't have to 
have all the answers right now," she 
soothes, her voice a gentle reminder of 
the love in the room.

Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae 
stiff with tension. "But Chip expects me 
to," he murmurs, his voice filled with a 
hint of accusation. "You want me to just 
lay it all out, like it's simple."

Karen can feel the frustration rolling off 
of him, and she knows that pushing him 
further won't help. "I know it's hard," she 
says, her voice soothing. "But we can 
take it slow, okay?"

Plankton's antennae quiver, and he 
nods, his eye still narrowed in irritation. 
"Fine," he grumbles. "But don't expect 
me to be good at it."

The tension in the room is thick, but 
Karen refuses to let it linger. She takes a 
deep breath, her eyes on Chip. "Why 
don't we start by talking about what 
happened today?" she suggests, her 
voice calm and even.

Plankton's antennae twitch, and he 
nods, his eye flicking to Chip before 
looking away again. "Ok," he says, his 
voice tight.

"Do you remember what happened at 
the park today?" Karen asks, keeping 
her voice gentle and steady.

Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods 
stiffly. "Yes," he says, his voice tight. "I 
had one of my... moments."

Chip looks at him, his eyes wide with 
concern. "Is it okay with Dad…"

"I'm right here, buddy," Plankton 
interrupts, his antennae still, his eye 
fixed on the floor. "And I'm okay."

But Chip isn't convinced. "But you 
weren't okay at the park," he says, his 
voice quivering. "You were scared I 
think.."

Plankton's antennae shoot up in 
frustration. "I was not scared!" he snaps, 
his voice echoing through the room. "It's 
just... it's hard to explain!"

Karen's heart squeezes, watching her 
husband's distress, but she knows they 
need to keep the conversation going. 
"Chip," she says gently, "why don't you 
tell us what you felt when you saw 
Daddy's moment?"

Chip looks at Karen, his eyes glistening. 
"I was scared," he admits, his voice 
shaky. "I didn't know what to do, and 
everyone was looking."

Plankton's antennae droop, his eye 
flicking to the floor. He's visibly upset, 
and Karen can see the anger bubbling 
beneath the surface.

"I just want to know," Chip says, his 
voice trembling, "I wanna know why 
you…"

But before he can finish, Plankton's 
antennae shoot up in anger, his eye 
flashing with a fury. "Why do you keep 
poking at me like that?" he yells, his 
voice echoing through the room. "Can't 
you just leave me alone?"

Chip's eyes fill with tears, and he jumps 
back, his small body trembling. Karen's 
heart sinks as she sees the fear in her 
son's eyes, and she knows that 
Plankton's outburst isn't helping.

"Plankton," she says firmly, her voice 
cutting through the tension.

new chip off the old talks familycore

"Wheres your
husband?" 


He doesn't exist, I married a woman. 

It's 2015 people 
she's not
my friend. 

new whispercore familycore whisper

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 4
by NeuroFabulous


They found Chip sitting
on the floor of his room.
Karen knelt beside him,
wrapping her arms around
his small frame. "It's ok
Chip," she whispered. "Dad
didn't mean to scare you."

Plankton sat on the edge
of the bed, his body still
shaky from his meltdown.
He watched his wife and son
with a mix of love and despair.
He didn't know how to bridge
the gap that had suddenly
appeared between them.

Karen sat beside him,
her hand on his arm, her gaze
filled with understanding.
"We need to talk to Chip,"
she said gently. "He's
scared, Plankton. He just
needs to know what's go—"

But Plankton was already
spiraling, his chest tightening
as the fear of the unknown
consumed him. His eye
was wide, his breaths
quick and shallow.

He clutched at his chest,
his heart racing. "I can't."
The room spun around him,
his stims turning into a
full-blown panic attack.

Karen's eyes searched his,
seeing the fear and
desperation. She knew
this was a moment they
couldn't ignore. "Plankton,
you can do this," she said,
her voice firm but gentle.
"We're going to te-"

But Plankton's panic
was too intense. His
body began to shake,
his breaths coming in
quick, sharp gasps. He
couldn't control his stims.
"I CAN'T!" he shouted,
his voice echoing through
the room. His antennae
twitched erratically, his
body contorting in an
effort to escape the
overwhelming anxiety.

Chip's eyes grew wider
at his father's distress.
He didn't know what to
do, but he knew he
wanted to help. He scoots
closer, reaching for
Plankton's hand. "Dad?"
he whispered.

The touch was like
electricity to Plankton.
He jolted, his panic
escalating, his body
thrashing uncontrollably.

Karen held Chip back,
knowing that Plankton's
flailing limbs could
accidentally harm him.
"Daddy," Chip called out,
his voice trembling.

Karen saw the fear
in Chip's eyes.

"Chip," she said, her voice
steady despite the chaos
around them, "Dad's having
a bad seizure. He gets
them sometimes because his
brain is working extra hard.
We need to stay calm, let him
have his space."

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's convulsing
form. He didn't understand
why his dad's brain would
do this to him, but he
knew he had to be brave.

The room was silent
except for the harsh sound
of Plankton's labored breaths.

Karen's heart felt like it
was being squeezed in a vice.
This was a side of Plankton
she had shielded Chip from
for so long. But now, there was
no hiding it. She knew that
the conversation they had been
avoiding was now inevitable.

The seizure raged on,
Plankton's body jerking and
twitching with an intensity
that made Karen's own body
ache in empathy. She watched
his face, contorted in pain,
and wished she could take it
away, wished she could explain
to their son what was happening.

But Chip's innocence
shattered by the scene
before him. His tears fell
silently, mixing with the
fear in his eyes as he
stared at his dad.

Plankton's body jerked
wildly, his stims a silent
scream for help. The room
was a blur of movement
and noise, his sounds
filling the air like a cacophony
of distress.

Karen held Chip tightly,
his small body trembling
against hers. "It's ok,
Dad's brain just needs a
moment to calm down,"
she murmured.

Plankton's seizure
eventually subsided.
Karen remained by his
side, her eyes never leaving
his face as she whispered
soothing words. "You're
ok," she murmured. "You're
safe." Plankton's eye
flitted open, unfocused and
glassy.

The room was quiet,
the only sound being
his own labored breaths.
He looked around Chip's
bedroom. "Wha-wha-wha?" 
he stuttered, his voice 
still thick with
his postictal state.

Karen and Chip stared
at him, their faces filled
with a mix of fear and
relief. Plankton's mind
was still racing, trying
to catch up with reality.

"Wha-wha-wha?" he
repeated, his mouth
forming words that didn't
make sense. Karen took
his hand, her eyes filled
with love and patience.
"You had a seizure, Plankton,"
she said softly. "But you're
coming out of it now."

Plankton's gaze drifted
around the room, his
brain trying to piece
together the fragments
of what had happened.

Plankton's tremors had
evolved into a loop of
silly sounds and gestures.
He giggled, his eye
crossing slightly as he
waved his arms in the air. "Hi,
buddy," he said, his voice
slurred and childlike. Chip
stared at him, not knowing
how to react.

"You're okay, Dad?"
Chip ventured, his voice
shaky.

Plankton looked at him,
his face a mask of
confusion and child-like
innocence. He giggled
again.

Chip watched his dad,
his heart pounding. The
silly sounds and movements
were so unlike him.
It was like watching
a stranger in his dad's body.
"What's going on?" Chip
asked, his voice trembling.
"Is he okay?"

Karen nodded, her eyes
filled with both love and
sadness. "It's called postictal
delirium," she said softly.
"It can happen after a
seizure. His brain is just
trying to reboot."

Plankton looked at them
both, his movements
becoming more erratic.
"I'm a... I'm a... root?"
Karen couldn't help but
smile through her tears.
"No, honey, you're not a root,"
she said, her voice gentle.
"You're just a bit mixed up
right now."

Chip watched his dad,
his mind racing. He had
never seen him act so...
so weird. "But Dad," he
stammered, "you're not 
a root.." Plankton
chuckles, his eye glazed
over.

Karen's smile grew sadder.
"It's okay," she reassured
Chip, her voice steady. "This
is just a phase, it will
pass. His brain is just
trying to get back to
his normal."

Plankton's legs pushed
his body to his side as
drool formed at the corner
of his mouth. Chip looked
to his mom for guidance,
his eyes pleading for
explanation.

Karen's heart ached
watching her husband's
mind struggle to find
his footing. She knew
this was a normal part
of his recovery, but it
was hard not to feel a
pang of sadness at his
vulnerability. "It's okay,
sweetie," she said, her voice
calm and steady. "See,
his brain is still trying to
wake up," she explained, her
voice calm and soothing.
"It's like he's in a dream,
and we just have to wait
for him to come back to us."

Chip studied his
father's face, his mind
racing to understand.
"But why is he acting
like that?" he asked, his
voice filled with worry.

"It's part of his
recovery," Karen said,
wiping a tear from her
eye. "Sometimes after a
big seizure, his brain
needs a bit of time to get
itself sorted out. He might
say or do things that don't
make sense. It's like his
brain is playing catch-up."

Plankton rolled onto
his stomach, trying
to crawl around on the
bed. Chip watched,
his heart racing. He 
didn't know whether to 
laugh or cry. Karen couldn't
help but chuckle through
her own tears. It was a
sight to see his normally 
stoic demeanor so playfully
distorted.

"Wormy wormy," Chip
repeated tentatively, a
tiny smile playing on his
lips despite the fear that
still lingered. Plankton
crawled to Chip, drooling
still, his eye still glazed
over.

Karen watched the
interaction with a 
bittersweet smile, 
heart torn between
laughing at Plankton's 
silliness and crying 
for the reality behind it. 
"That's right, buddy," 
she said, her voice
soft. Chip laughed too, 
though the fear in his 
eyes hadn't fully 
dissipated.

His dad's normally stern
face was a picture of
joyful confusion, his
movements those of a
playful puppy. "Daddy,
what's so funny?" Chip
asked, his curiosity
getting the better of him.

Plankton giggled, his
limbs flailing. "Tickle
monster," he exclaimed,
his voice high-pitched and
slurred. He reached out
and poked Chip in the
hand, his movements
uncoordinated but
playful.

Chip stifled a laugh,
his fear slowly giving
way to amusement. "Dad,"
he said, his voice gentle,
"you're not a tickle
monster." But Plankton's
reaching for Chip again.

"Tickle monster, tickle
monster," he repeated,
his voice growing more
insistent. Chip felt a
strange mix of emotions
bubbling up inside him. He
was still scared, but there
was something endearing
about his dad's newfound
silliness. Chip giggled. "Dad,
stop," he protested, but his
laughter betrayed his
enjoyment. Karen herself
watched from the edge
of the bed, her own smile
growing. She knew whenever
Plankton fully came back to
himself, he'd be completely
humiliated to find himself
like this.

new my autistic dad seizurecore

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 6
by NeuroFabulous


Plankton's sobs grew
softer, his body slowly
relaxing into hers. He's
exhausted from today's
events, and his eye had
fluttered shut.

Karen stroked his back,
her mind racing. They
needed to explain to
Chip about autism, and
they needed to do it now.
It was time to break the
silence and start a
conversation that was long
overdue.

"Chip," she called out, her
voice gentle, "can you come
back here, sweetie?" Chip 
came, his eyes red from 
crying. He slowly 
approached, his heart
racing. "Dad?"

Plankton's eye then
flitted open, and he 
looked at his wife, then
his son. He felt so tired,
his mind a jumbled mess.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his
eye half-lidded with fatigue.

"Don't be sorry," Karen said.
"Come sit," she beckoned
to Chip, who approached
slowly. He climbed onto
the bed, his eyes never
leaving his dad's face.

Plankton's eye was
half-closed, his body 
heavy with sleep. 
Karen knew the 
emotional outburst 
had exhausted him.

"What's autism, Mom?"
Chip's voice was filled
with curiosity.

"It's a part of your dad's
brain," Karen began,
carefully choosing her
words. "It's something
he was born with."

Chip looked at her, his
eyes still wide with
question. "But what does
it do?"

Karen took a deep
breath, stroking Plankton's
back. "Well," she said,
"it makes him see the world
a little differently.
Sometimes, his brain gets
really busy, like when there's
a lot of noise or when
things are too bright. It can
be hard for him to handle.
And sometimes, when he's had
a big seizure, he gets like
this," she gestured to
his sleepy form in her arms.

Chip studied his
father's face, his 
curiosity piqued. 
"Does that mean
he's sick?"

Karen looked at her 
son, her heart heavy 
with the weight of 
the truth. "No, Chip," 
she said, her voice
soothing. "It's like 
having a different 
kind of brain that 
sometimes needs 
extra care and 
understanding.
Dad's autism is like
his brain's special 
way of working," Karen
explained, her voice 
calm and even. "It's like
a computer sometimes 
runs really fast or really
slow, and we just need
to know how to help him
when it's too much."

Chip nodded. He
thought about his
own video games, how
his console sometimes
glitched or lagged. He
couldn't imagine his
dad feeling like that.

"But what about his
stims?" he asked, 
his voice filled with
concern. Karen took
a deep breath, her heart
racing as she tried to
explain.

"His stims are like little
things he does to help
his brain feel better. It's
kind of like when you
pace. But he doesn't like
for us to call attention to
them," Karen said gently,
trying to find the right
words to explain.

Chip nodded. "But
why did he get so 
mad?"

"Because," Karen said, her
voice soft, "his brain was
overwhelmed. Sometimes
autistic people can get
upset when they don't feel
understood. And when you
used that bad word, it just
reminded him of all the
times people have said
things without knowing
what it means to be autistic."

Chip's eyes grew wide
with realization. "But
I didn't know it was
bad," he said, his voice
tiny as tears threatened to
spill over. And Plankton's 
body tensed at the 
mention of the word.

"Well," Plankton began,
his voice thick with 
sarcasm, "now you 
know." His tone was
sharp, his anger 
palpable. "So, now that 
you've seen the freak 
show, you can tell all 
your friends!"

Chip's eyes filled with
hurt at his father's
harsh words. "Dad, I 
didn't mean to up-" "Oh,
you didn't mean to?"
Plankton interrupts. "Aw,
are you gonna give me the
'I'm just a kid' excuse?" His
tone was laced with anger
and sarcasm. "Well, here's
a newsflash, kiddo: words
have consequences. So
maybe you can tell all your
little pals about how
'fun' it is to have a
dad who turns into a
blubbering mess at the
drop of a hat! Is that right,
little man?"

Karen's grip on Plankton's
arm tightened. "Plankton,"
she said, her voice firm but
filled with love. "That's en-"

But Plankton's anger 
would not be contained.
"What, Karen?" he snapped,
his eye glaring at Chip. "You
think I don't know what
he's going to do? That
he's not going to tell his
friends?"

Chip's lip quivered, his
heart racing with fear
and guilt. He didn't 
understand why his dad
was so upset. "I-I won't,"
he promised, his voice
shaking. "I didn't know.
And I'm sor—"

But Plankton's sarcasm
continued, his voice
sharp as a knife. "Oh,
you're sorry," he spat.
"That fixes everything,
doesn't it? Ohhhhhhhh
look, Chip's such a good
boy, he said sorry!" He
mocked, his antennae
waving erratically.

Chip felt a knot form
in his stomach, his
cheeks burning with
shame. He didn't know
what to say. He hadn't
meant to upset his dad.

"Plankton," Karen's
voice was firm, "that is
enough. You're scaring 
him."

Chip's eyes filled with tears,
his voice trembling. "I just
want to know why you're
acting so mad," he choked 
out.

Plankton's antennae
drooped, the anger in
his voice giving way to
frustration. "I just want
to be by myself," he said,
his voice low. Chip looks
at his mother, his eyes
pleading.

Karen nodded, her heart
breaking for both of them.
"Okay," she said gently.
"We'll leave you alone
for now. But remember,
we love you." She kissed
his forehead.

Chip climbed off the
bed. "I'm sorry, Dad,"
he whispered before
exiting the room, his
tiny legs carrying him
as fast as they could
to his own room.

Karen watched him go,
her heart aching. She
turned to Plankton, who
was now lying on his
side.

"Why do you have to be
so hard on him?" she
asked, her voice filled with
frustration and love.
"He didn't know what he
was sa-"

"I know," Plankton cut
her off, his voice tired.
"I know he didn't know.
But it doesn't change
the fact that it's hurting
me.."

Karen sat next to him,
silent for a moment. She
knew his anger was a
defense mechanism, a
way to protect himself
from the fear and pain of
being misunderstood. "I'm
sorry," she whispered, her
hand on his arm. "But
you're right, what he said
was hurtful. That's why I
wanted us to explain."

Plankton sighed, his
body slowly deflating. "I
know you're trying to help,"
he said, his voice tired.

Karen leaned in, her eyes
filled with compassion.
"And we're here for you,"
she said firmly. "We're a
team. You don't have to..."

But Plankton's eye closed.
"I know," he murmured.
"But sometimes...it's just
so hard. I'm tired.."

Karen nodded, her
hand still on his arm.
"I know, sweetie," she 
said, her voice gentle. 
"But Chip loves you. He
just needs to understand.
And we ca--"

But her words were
interrupted by Plankton's
snores. Karen sighs, 
stroking his arm. She 
knew these conversations
weren't over, but for now,
he needed rest. She leaned
in, placing a soft kiss
on his cheek. "I'll take
care of him," she whispered.

With a heavy heart, she
got up from the bed and
closed the door behind
them. She found Chip in
his own room, sitting on the
edge of his bed, his eyes
fixed on the floor.

new my autistic dad meancore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
1 day ago
CenturyCoal

I pressed the stuffed teddy bear's chest to hear it's voice box 

the bear should have said 'i love you'  not 'let me out'

new teddycore bearcore voicecore stuffiecore reddit TwoSentenceHorror

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 10
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ 
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ 
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. 
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ 
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ 
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ 
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌.
"𝖣𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍?"
𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁
𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗌. "𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋
𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗆𝖾𝖽
𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽."

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐
𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗍
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗆, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾.
"𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀?" 𝗁𝖾
𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾—" "𝖡𝗅𝗂𝗉, 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆, 𝗄𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄.
𝖣𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒-𝖽𝗈𝗈, 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗒-𝗃𝗈𝗈."
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝗌. 
"𝖥𝗅𝗂𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋-𝖿𝗅𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 
𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗇. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒, 𝖣𝖺𝖽,"
𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗆.
"𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒. 𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐?"
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁
𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀.
"𝖳𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾
𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽. "𝖡𝗂𝗀. 𝖦𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇." 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐
𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖦𝗂𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋-𝗃𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋."
"𝖸𝖾𝗌," 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾
𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖡𝗂𝗀 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌."
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾
𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. "𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽,"
𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽."

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖦𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗉. 𝖦𝗅𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒,"
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌.
"𝖣𝗂𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋-𝖽𝗂𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾-
𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌.
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍.
"𝖶𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍, 𝖨'𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾
𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖣𝖺𝖽." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌
𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀.
𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾
𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗃𝗈𝗅𝗍𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉. "𝖭𝗈," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌
𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋. "𝖭𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁."
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌
𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾. "𝖨'𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗂𝗇
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋. "𝖱𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅," 𝗌𝗁𝖾
𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒. "𝖧𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍
𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽,
𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌."
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋'𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗈
𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌
𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋. "𝖣𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝖻𝗒,"
𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅.
"𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄, 𝖣𝖺𝖽," 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌.
𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌.
"𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌,
𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇."

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾.
"𝖶𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒, 
𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗒-𝗐𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗒,"
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌.
"𝖳𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗒-𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋."

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽
𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌,
𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍.
𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽'𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗌
𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍
𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌
𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌
𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼
𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌
𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗅𝗒. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒,
𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾."
𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖲𝖺𝖿𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌.
"𝖬𝗈𝗆, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇?"
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇
𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽. "𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍
𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾
𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗌. 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌
𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅
𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌. "𝖶𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒,
𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉
𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗉. "𝖣𝗈𝗈𝖻𝗒,
𝖽𝗈𝗈𝖻𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝖽𝗈," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌
𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒
𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?"
𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇
𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉," 𝗌𝗁𝖾
𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽. "𝖨'𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾,"
𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾
𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍," 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗌.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗌
𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒
𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋'𝗌
𝗁𝗎𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅
𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾.
𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌
𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾
𝗌𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌,
𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗈𝗇 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌
𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇
𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝖾𝖽.
𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗂𝗇
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋, 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍
𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗀𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆
𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋'𝗌 𝖠𝖢 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍
𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉
𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇
𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾.
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝗎𝖾𝖽
𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽. "𝖲𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽
𝗐𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾?"
𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌.
"𝖫𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗈𝗇 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. "𝖶𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉,
𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.
"𝖧𝗈𝗆𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿𝗅𝗒,
𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.
"𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒," 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋.

𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒
𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋.
𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝖽𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒. "𝖫𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈
𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉
𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌
𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍, 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗌
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗎𝖾.
"𝖱𝖾𝗌𝗍," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾
𝖺 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌
𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗍.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀. 
"𝖣𝖺𝖽?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾.
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌
𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽.
"𝖬𝗆?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗍.
"𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒?"
𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁. "𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾
𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗇.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. "𝖶𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍
𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆?" 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌.
"𝖫𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌.
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆.
"𝖲𝗎𝖻," 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒.

𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒,"
𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽
𝗈𝗇 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉'𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍
𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌." 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆,
𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌
𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉.

"𝖡𝗅𝗂𝗉, 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒,"
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾
𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀?" 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇
𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌,"
𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆, 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒. 𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒.
𝖧𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍
𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌."
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀?"
𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌. "𝖬𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾," 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌,
𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀.
"𝖪𝖾𝗋-𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆-𝗈. 𝖡𝖺𝗆-𝖻𝖺𝗆-𝖻𝖺𝗆." 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉
𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗌. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌
𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗎𝗉, 𝗁𝖾𝗋
𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁.
"𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝗂𝗑 𝗈𝖿
𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌. "𝖦𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗒,
𝗀𝗈𝗈𝗄," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾
𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖲𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗒, 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗌𝗁."
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾.
"𝖣𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀?"
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍
𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌.
"𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁
𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉."
𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾
𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇
𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗁𝗋𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌
𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌
𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. "𝖯𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀,
𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗄𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗆," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒.
𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋
𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌
𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾," 𝗁𝖾
𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽'𝗌
𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌,
𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀.
"𝖨𝗇 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌.
"𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁-𝗎𝗉,
𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒."

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖥𝗂𝗓𝗓, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗓𝗓, 𝗉𝗈𝗉,"
𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍
𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋. "𝖨𝗌 𝗁𝖾
𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼?" 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇
𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌
𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈
𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌. "𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝖺
𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗈."

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁
𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀.
𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇. "𝖬𝗈𝗆,
𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?" 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾
𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾
𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾
𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍.
"𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿
𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝖻𝗒𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒."

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾
𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾
𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄
𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌
𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑𝖾𝖽. 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉
𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌
𝖽𝖺𝖽'𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗉𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. "𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍
𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖺 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇. "𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒
𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌,
"𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆."

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍
𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾. "𝖡𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾,
𝖻𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 
𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆,
𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌
𝗍𝗈 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗉. "𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌
𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌."

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖼𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌
𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁,
𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋
𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

new autism and all chip plankton chipcore

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 3
by NeuroFabulous



Plankton's stims grew
more pronounced, his
mouth moving rapidly,
producing a series of
sounds that didn't form
words. "Kkr-kr-kr-kr,"
he murmured, his eye
squeezed shut tightly. Chip
felt his own heart race,
but he also felt a strange
sort of fascination with
his dad's behavior.

Karen knew that Plankton
was trying to regain control
over his senses. This verbal
stimming was a way for
his brain to reset, to find
comfort in the repetition
and rhythm of the sounds.

But Chip didn't know
what was happening. He
watched his dad with a mix
of fear and curiosity.
The "kr-kr-kr" sounds grew
louder, more erratic.

Karen knew this was the
moment they had been
dreading, the moment when
they would have to explain
everything to Chip. But she
also knew that Plankton's
fear was real, his need for
control overwhelming. So
she waited, her eyes never
leaving her husband's face.

Chip stared at his dad, unsure
of what to do. The sounds were
both fascinating and scary, his
young mind trying to process
the scene before him. He had
always known his dad was
different, but he had never
seen him like this.

Plankton's stimming grew
louder, his mouth moving
faster. "Tss-tss-tss-tsss," he
repeated. "Shc-shc-shcss,"
his tongue dancing around his
mouth. Karen recognized the
patterns, the sounds he made
when he was overstimulated
and trying to ground himself.

Her eyes filled with love and
understanding, she gently
guided Chip to the bed. "Come
sit with us, sweetie," she said,
patting the mattress. "Let's talk
about what's happening."

Chip climbed onto the bed,
his eyes never leaving Plankton's
face as he continued his strange
pattern of sounds.

"Dad," Chip whispered, 
"are you okay?" But 
Plankton didn't respond,
his vocalizations now 
increasing in volume 
and speed. "Ck-ck-ck-ck,"
he repeated. "Hx-hx-hx-hx."
Chip's eyes were wide
with unyielding curiosity
as his dad continues to
rock back and forth.

Karen looked at her son,
seeing the question marks
in his eyes. "Your dad
is okay," she assured him,
keeping her voice steady.
"He's just making sounds
that help him feel better
right now."

Chip studied his dad's
face, his curiosity
outweighing his fear. "But
why?" he asked.

Karen took a deep breath,
knowing this was a delicate
moment. "Dad's brain works
different, remember?" she
explained, trying to keep
her voice steady. "Sometimes,
his body does things, even 
without his permission, to 
help him feel safe."

But Chip was still 
scared. He didn't understand
why his dad was so upset.
He had only wanted to help.
Tears streamed down his
cheeks as he watched his
dad rock back and forth, making
those strange noises.

Karen reached over, taking
Plankton's hand, her voice
soothing. "It's okay," she
whispered. "You don't have
to hide anymore." Plankton
flinched at her touch, his
stims becoming more erratic.
"Chip, your dad just needs
a little more time," she
explained. "He's not mad at
yo--"

"YES, I AM MAD!" Plankton
interrupted, his voice
sharp. "Why does Chip
think he can just barge in
and see me like this?! You're
not supposed to be in here!"

The room was thick with
tension as Chip's eyes filled
with tears. "I'm sorry," he
stuttered, his voice barely
above a whisper. "I didn't mean
to scare y—"

"You didn't scare me,"
Plankton snapped, his anger
sharp. "But you just had to
go poking around, didn't you!"

Karen felt a squeeze of fear
in her heart, but she knew
this was not the time to
interfere. "Plankton," she
said calmly, "Chip was just
worried about you."

Plankton's anger didn't
abate. "I don't need his
pity!" he shouted, his stims
turning into a full-blown meltdown.
His body is now no longer his
own.

Chip shrank back, his
innocence shattered by
his father's rage. He had
never seen Plankton like
this before, had never felt
so unwanted or so afraid.
"I just wanted to help,"
he whispered, his voice
barely audible.

But Plankton was beyond
reason. His autism is now
taking over, turning violent
as Chip approached with
an outstretched hand.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Plankton
bellowed, pushing Chip away
with surprising strength. The
small boy stumbled back,
his eyes wide.

Karen's eyes filled with
concern as she watched her
son's face crumble. "Chip,
sweetie, go to your room,"
she said gently, trying to
shield him from Plankton's
fury. But Chip couldn't move,
his legs frozen to the spot.

Karen knew she had to
intervene before things
got worse. She moved
quickly, placing herself
between Plankton and Chip.
"Chip, go to your room,"
she ordered gently, her voice
firm but not harsh. "We'll
talk about this later, okay?"

Chip nodded, his eyes
still on his father's
distressed form. He turned
and left the room, his
small feet dragging against
the floor as he walked away.
The door clicked shut behind
him, leaving Karen alone
with her husband's meltdown.

Karen's heart broke for him,
but she knew she had to get
through to him. "Plankton,"
she said, her voice firm but
kind, "Chip loves you. He
was just sc-"

But Plankton's meltdown
was in full swing. He
was beyond the point of
reason, his voice a mix of
stims and rage. "I DON'T
WANT HIS PITY!" he
screamed, his fists clenching
the bed sheets. His stims
were no longer calming;
they were a manifestation
of his distress.

Karen felt a knot in her
stomach as she watched
her husband's breakdown.
Her heart was torn between
soothing him and protecting
Chip. But she knew that
Plankton's anger wasn't
just directed at their son.
It was at the world, at his
condition, at the fear of
being discovered.

"Plankton," she said firmly,
"look at me." She waited until
his eye met hers. "Your
autism is a part of who
you are, and it doesn't make
you any less of a person."
Her words seemed to pierce
his rage.

He took a shaky breath,
his body gradually
stilling. "I just... I don't
want him to see this,"
he murmured. The anger 
left his voice, leaving
behind a raw vulnerability.
Karen reached out 
gently touching his arm.
"Chip isn't scared of you,"
she assured. "He's scared
for you. And we need to
talk to him about what's
going on."

Plankton's eye searched
hers, filled with a mix
of doubt and fear. "What i-if
h-he’s ashamed of me?"
his voice was barely
above a whisper.

Karen's eyes softened,
her touch gentle. "Chip
could never be ashamed,"
she said firmly. "He loves
you just the way you are.
Now, let's go talk to him."

new stimcore my autistic dad 3

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 1
by NeuroFabulous

Karen and her husband 
Plankton adopted Chip
as a newвorn. Chip is a
good kid, but he doesn't
know that his mom and
dad kept a secret, which
is Plankton's autism.

Plankton was only
comfortable with
Karen knowing of
it. She knew all his
different tics, his stims,
nonepileptic seizures;
but Plankton's unsure
of sharing it with his
son. His pride made
him not want others
to ever find out!

But one day, that all
changed, for Chip
found out the hard
way. He stumbled 
upon his dad having
an absence seizure,
not knowing what it
meant, what was
happening.

Karen was out front
gardening when Chip
went into his parents
bedroom to the sight
of Plankton on his bed.
He sat rigidly stiff, his 
unblinking eye unseeing.

"Dad?" Chip called out, his
voice trembling with fear.
He had never seen
his father like this
before. Plankton didn't
respond, lost in his
moment of absence.

Cautiously, Chip
approached the bed.
With trembling fingers,
he gently squeezed his
dad's shoulder. "Dad?"
he repeated. No reply.

Panic began to set
in, his heart racing.
"Dad, wake up!" Chip
shouted, his voice
cracking with worry.

Chip tried to shake
his dad gently, but
Plankton remained
motionless. He was
scared, unsure. He
doesn't know about
seizures, let alone
absence seizures. "Dad,
please," he whispered,
his voice quivering.
He didn't know what
to do.

The room felt eerie,
as if the air had
become thick and
stıll. Chip looked
around desperately,
his eyes searching for
anything that might
explain what was
happening. He saw a
picture of the family
on the bedside table.
The happy faces in the
picture seemed to
contrast sharply with
the scene before him.

He tried to shake
his dad a little more
forcefully this time.
"Wake up, Dad!" he yelled,
his voice echoing in
the quiet room. The fear
was now turning into
desperation.

Tears began to well up
in his eyes as he sat
on the bed beside his
dad. He took Plankton's
hand in his own. "Dad,"
he whimpered. Nothing.

He decided to try talking
to him, maybe it would
help bring him back.
"Dad, it's me, Chip.
Remember when we went
to the beach last summer
and you taught me to
build sandcastles?" His voice
was shaky, but he continued,
"You said I was the best
sand sculptor you've ever
seen. Remember the seagulls
that kept stealing our
snacks?" Yet Plankton
remained motionless.

The silence grew heavier,
pressing down on Chip like
a weıght he couldn't lift.
He swallowed hard,
his mind racing. "Dad, please 
come back," he begged, shaking
his father's arm. He didn't
know to wait it out, ending
up sending Plankton deeper
into his overload, his eye
even more vacant.

Chip's thoughts were a
whirlwind of confusion and
fear. "What if he's hurt?"
He whispered to himself.
He knew he had to tell
his mom. But what
could she do? Would
she be mad if he did
something wrong? Besides
he didn't want to leave his
dad alone. "Dad, I love 
you so much," he said, 
tears spilling over.

He decided to sing. "The
wheels on the bus go round
and round," he began, it
being the first song that
popped into mind. He hoped
that would somehow break the
silence that had overtaken
his dad. He sang softly,
his voice wavering as the
lyrics filled the room. His
small hand tightly gripped
his dad's, willing him to
return to reality. Nothing.
So he stopped singing.

With a tremble in his
voıce, Chip decided to try
again to make a connection.
"Dad," he began, "do you
remember when you took me
to the arcade and I beat
you at Whack-A-Mole?"
He paused, hoping for
a reaction, a twitch of 
antennae, anything. "I
don't want you to go any
where, Dad. I need you here."

Just as he finished speaking,
he heard the front door
opening. His mom must've
finished gardening! He didn't
want her to find them like this,
but he knew he needed her
help. He didn't know how
else to get his dad to wake.

"Mom!" Chip yelled, his voice
strained and desperate. "Come
quick!" The sound of her
footsteps grew closer, the
tension in the house palpable.
He felt his throat tighten,
his eyes blurring with tears.

Karen rushed into the room.
Her eyes scanned the scene,
quickly assessing the situation.
Seeing Plankton on the bed,
she knew instantly what was
going on. She had seen it
before, too many times to
count. Her heart ached for
Chip's innocent confusion.

"It's okay, sweetie," she said,
trying to calm Chip's nerves
as she sat beside him. "Your
dad's just having a moment.
It's like a little nap, but for his
brain." She took his hand,
squeezing it gently. "You don't
have to be scared. He'll be
back in a bit."

Karen had prepared herself
for this day, knowing it could
come eventually. She had
learned early on what Plankton
needed during his episodes.
Now it was time to explain it
to their son. She took a deep
breath, her eyes never leaving
Plankton's vacant one.

"Chip," she began, her voice
soothing, "you know how
sometimes you get really into
your toys and don't hear me
when I call?" He nodded.
"It's like that for Dad right
now, but with his brain. He
can't really hear or see us. We
just have to wait for him
to come back."

She stroked Plankton's arm.
This was something she had
experienced countless times,
but seeing her son's fear
was a new kind of pain.

"Remember, Chip," she
whispered, "his brain is just
taking a little break. It's
like he's in a bubble right
now. We have to wait until
he pops out."

Karen knew that Plankton
needed quiet and space during
his seizures. She gently took
over, moving Chip aside to
give Plankton the room
his overstimulated mind
required. She sat down
next to her husband, placing
a calming hand on his back.
Her touch was gentle, familiar.

The seconds ticked by,
each one feeling like an eternity.
Karen's heart was beating fast,
but her voice remained calm
and soothing. "It's okay,
Plankton," she murmured.
"You're safe here. It's just us."

Chip watched his mom,
his eyes wide with questions.
He had never seen his dad
like this before, and it scared
him. But the way Karen
spoke to Plankton, with such
patience and understanding,
was comforting.

new NeuroFabulous my autistic dad 1

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 5
by NeuroFabulous


Finally Plankton's eye 
focused slightly, and 
he looked from Chip 
to Karen. He tried to 
sit up, but his body 
was still weak. "What 
happened?" he asked,
his voice confused as
he wiped the drool from
his mouth.

Karen took a deep 
breath, her heart
swelling with love 
for her husband. "You
had a seizure, sweetie,"
she said, her voice gentle.
"But you're okay now."
Plankton's antennae 
twitched, his mind
racing as he tried to
understand.

He looked from Karen
to Chip, his son's face
still wet with tears.
"Chip...I'm...I'm sorry,"
he stuttered, his body
still trembling. Chip
smiled tentatively, his
eyes never leaving his
dad's face. "It's okay, Dad,"
he said. "I just want
you to be okay."

The room was silent
for a moment, filled
only with the sound
of Plankton's labored
breathing. Karen felt
relief, but she knew the
conversation they had
put off was now 
unavoidable.

"Plankton," she began,
her voice calm and steady.
"Chip saw you having a
seizure. And he heard me
talking about your...
neurodisability." She paused,
trying to find the right
words. "We need to tell
him more about your autism.
Why don't you start telling him?"

Plankton looked at his wife,
his face a canvas of fear and
uncertainty. But he knew she
was right. He had to tell Chip.
He took a deep breath. "I'm
autistic; I was born this way.
It's like...my brain is a
different operating system,"
he began, his voice shaking.

Chip's eyes widened in
interest, his curiosity
overriding his fear. "But 
what's that mean?"

"It means," he began, "that 
sometimes my brain does 
things differently than 
yours. And when it gets
overwhelmed, like with too
much noise or too many 
people, I might have a 
reaction that looks like 
what, whatever you saw."

Chip's curiosity grew,
his fear dissipating. "So, 
you're like a... a... a..."
He searched for the right
word, his mind racing.
And then it slipped out.
"A ret-..." Chip whispered,
his voice filled with innocence.
The room went cold, Karen's
heart sinking as she saw
the look on Plankton's face.

Without another word,
Plankton abruptly got 
up, leaving Chip's room
and slamming the door
behind him. Chip looked at
her, his eyes questioning.
"Mom," Chip said, his voice
small and scared, "Wh-"

"Chip," Karen said, her voice
sharp, "That's not a word
you should use to describe
your dad!" She was upset,
hurt by the ignorance
his innocent question had
revealed.

Chip's smile disappeared,
replaced by confusion. "But
I didn't do anyth—"

"Chip," Karen interrupted,
her voice firm. "What you
just said was hurtful. His
autism is no..." Karen took
a deep breath, her eyes
filled with a mix of anger
and sadness. "You need to
understand that words can
hurt, especially when you
don't know what you're
talking about. Because that
term, it's not nice, and it's
not what we say to describe
neurodisabled people."

Chip looked down at his
hands, his cheeks flushing.
He hadn't meant to hurt his
dad, hadn't even known
what he was saying was
wrong. "I'm sorry," he
mumbled, his voice small.

Karen took a deep
breath, trying to calm her
nerves. She knew Chip
was just a child, trying to
make sense.

"It's okay," she said
finally, her voice softer.
"But we have to learn to
be careful with our
words." She took his
hand. "Let's go talk to
him together."

They found Plankton
on his own bed, his
back to them, sniffling.

"Dad," Chip called out, his
small voice breaking the
silence. "I di-"

But Plankton's body tensed,
his antennae shooting up
in alarm. "I don't want
to talk to you," he said,
angrily. "I need to be alone."

Karen's heart broke for
them both. She knew that
this was a pivotal moment,
one that could either push
them apart or bring them
closer. She took a step
forward. "Plankton, Chip
just wants to underst--"

But Plankton's voice 
was harsh. "No."

Chip took a step back,
his eyes wide with shock
and confusion. He hadn't
meant to upset his dad.
"But Dad," he began again,
his voice trembling.

Karen stepped in, placing
a gentle hand on Chip's
shoulder. "Just give him
some space," she said, her
voice calm but firm. "He's
upset, and needs time to
process."

Chip nodded, his eyes
still on his dad's back. He
felt a mix of guilt and
sorrow. He knew he'd hurt
his dad. "Ok," he murmurs.

Karen squeezed Chip's
shoulder, her eyes never
leaving Plankton's tense
form. She knew he was in a
world of his own, trying to
soothe his overstimulated
brain. She watched as he
began to rub his hand
against the bed's fabric,
a stim of his. It was a
motion she had seen a
thousand times before.

With a heavy heart, she
knew she had to approach
Plankton gently. She took
a tentative step forward,
her eyes locked onto his
back. "Plankton," she said
softly. "I know you're upset."

Plankton's shoulders
tightened, but he didn't
turn around. Karen's hand
was steady as she reached
out to touch his arm. But
he flinched, pulling away.

She moved closer, her hand
on his shoulder. "Plankton,"
she said softly. "Please,
talk to me. We love you."

He didn't respond, but
his stims slowed. Karen knew
his autism made it hard
for him to express himself,
especially when he was
overwhelmed. She sat beside
him, her hand on his back.
"You're okay," she whispers,
her voice gentle.

Plankton's body stiffened,
his antennae drooping. "I'm
not okay," he murmured,
his voice thick with
self-loathing. "I am not
feeling okay right now."

Karen's eyes searched
his face, her heart aching.
"I know," she said, her voice
soothing. "But you're not
alone." She paused, her hand
still on his back. "Chip's
just trying to understand."

Plankton's body was
still tense, his breathing
erratic. "I don't want him
to see me like this," he
whispered. "I don't want
others to see me like this."

Karen wrapped her arms
around him, pulling him
closer. "But that's what
makes you, you," she said,
her voice firm but filled
with love. "And we love
you just the way you are."

Plankton's shoulders began
to shake as he finally
let out a sob. He buried
his face in her chest, his
body trembling with the
weight of his emotions.

Karen held him tightly,
whispering words of comfort.
"You're not weak," she
said firmly. "You're
different, and that's
ok. You're still the stubborn,
brave, strong man I fell in
love with." Her words
were like a balm to his
tortured soul.

new my autistic dad meancore

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 2
by NeuroFabulous


Karen knew that Plankton's
autism came with challenges,
and one of those was dealing
with sensory overload.
Her hand remained steady
on Plankton's back, knowing
to͠uch was always either a
comfort or a trigger.

Plankton's breathing began
to even out, and she could
see the tension slowly
drain from his body.

Karen looked over at Chip,
his eyes still filled with
uncertainty. She knew it
was time to explain. "Chip,"
she said, her voice calm
and steady, "Dad has something
that makes his brain work
a little differently than
ours. It's called autism."

Chip nodded, trying to
understand. "What's
that, Mom? What does 
autism mean?"

Karen took a deep breath.
"It means that Dad's brain
processes things in a way
that's different from
most people's," she
explained. "Sometimes,
his brain gets really tired
from trying to make sense
of the world, and his body
has to take a little break."
Chip nodded slowly, his
thoughts racing. "So, like
his brain needs to reboot?"

"Exactly," Karen said with
a gentle smıle. "And when
it does, we have to be
extra careful and quiet. It's
like when your phone freezes
up, and you give it some
patience to figure things out."

Then Plankton's eye 
blinks, now focusing.

The world slowly
came back to Plankton.
He saw Karen beside 
him, her screen filled with
relief and love. "Whaa-"

He stuttered, his body
still feeling heavy. He
noticed Chip, his son, 
sitting on the bed, 
looking at him with 
wide eyes and tears 
streaking down his
face.

"Ch-Chip?" Plankton
managed to croak. The sight
of his son's presence told
him that he'd been watching.

Chip's eyes widened, hope
filling his voice as he called
out again, "Dad!" Plankton
winced.

Karen reached for Chip,
pulling him into a side hug.
"Remember, sweetie, we need
to be calm and quiet for
Dad. He's coming back."

Plankton blinked rapidly,
his senses slowly returning.
He looked at his son, then at
his wife, feeling a mix of
emotions - fear, guilt, exposed,
understanding, mortification.

Suddenly, a tic took
over. His face scrunched
up involuntarily. Chip had
never seen his dad do
this before!

"It's okay," Karen whispered
quickly to Chip, sensing his
alarm. "Sometimes, Dad's
brain needs to do little things
to get all the energy out.
It's just a part of his autism."

"Kkr-kr-kr-kr," Plankton
stims. Chip leaned in, 
his eyes still full of 
unshed tears. "You 
okay, Da-"

"I'm fi-fi-fine," Plankton
interrupted, his voice
still stuttering. Karen
turns to their son. "Chip,
sometimes Dad's brain
needs to make little noises
or movements to get all the
extra energy out." He had
managed to keep this part
of himself hidden from his
son for so long, and now,
here he was, exposed and
vulnerable in front of him.

Chip studied his dad's tics
closely. Plankton's eye
was blinking rapidly, and
his tongue clicked 
against the roof of
his mouth, creating a
staccato.

Chip leaned closer, trying
to mimic the sound with
his own mouth. "You sound
like a dolphin! How do-"

"Chip," Plankton interrupted,
his voice tight with anger and
self consciousness, "that's 
ENOUGH, so STOP IT."

The sharpness of Plankton's
tone cut through the room,
silencing Chip's curiosity.
He hadn't meant to upset
his dad. He just wanted to
make him feel better. The
twitches and noises of his
tics had now stopped, but 
the tension was palpable.

"I-I'm sorry, Dad," Chip
stuttered, his voice small.
Tears glistened in his eyes.
Karen looked at Plankton with
concern. "Honey," she began
gently, "we need to talk to
Chip about this. He doesn't
know what's happe—"
"I KNOW what's happening!"
Plankton snapped, cutting her
off. His anger was palpable.
"He doesn't need to see this!"

The room fell silent except
for the sound of Plankton's
quick, shallow breaths. Karen
swallowed hard, knowing
that she had to handle
this situation with care.

But Plankton didn't want his
son to see him like this,
so out of control. "Get out!"
he shouted at Chip. "I don't
want you here!" His voice
was raw, his emotions
spilling over. Chip's eyes
widened in shock, his
mouth dropping open in
a gasp.

He had never seen his
dad so angry before. His heart
was racing, his own chest
tight with fear. "But, Dad-"
he began.

"I said get̴ out!" Chip
scurried away, his feet
thumping on the floor as
he rushed to leave. The door
slammed shut behind him,
leaving him in the hallway.
He leaned against the wall,
his breaths coming in
quick, sharp gasps.

Tears rolled down Chip's
screen as he tried to
make sense of what had
just happened. His dad had
never yells at him like that.
He felt a pang of hurt, but
also fear. What had he done
wrong? He just wanted to
help.

Karen stepped out of the
room, leaving Plankton
alone with his guilt. She
knelt down beside Chip,
pulling him into a warm
embrace. "It's okay," she
whispered, her voice thick
with emotion. "Dad didn't
mean to scare you. He's
just overwhelmed."

Chip sniffled, his eyes
still on the closed door.
"But why is he so mad?" he
asked, his voice small and
shaky. Karen sighed. "He's not
mad at you, Chip. He's just
scared and confused. Sometimes
his brain gets too much
information, and it's hard
for him to handle it all."

Chip looked up at his mom,
his eyes searching hers for
understanding. "But why did he
tell me to leave?"

Karen took a deep breath.
"Chip, your dad loves you so
much," she said, her voice
soft and gentle. "But sometimes
his autism makes him feel
things really intensely. He's
not mad at you, he's just upset
because he didn't want you to
see him like that. Sometimes, when
people with autism get overwhelmed,
their emotions can come out in
big ways, even when they don't
mean to scare us."

Chip wiped his nose with the
back of his hand. "But why
doesn't he tell me about it?" he
asked, his voice quivering. "Why
does it have to be a secret?"

Karen sighed heavily. "Because
sometimes, people feel embarrassed
or scared to talk about things
that make them different." She
rubbed his back soothingly. "But now
that you know, we can help him
feel less alone."

Chip nodded, but his heart
was still racing. He didn't
understand why his dad couldn't
just tell him. "But he was so
angry," he murmured.

Karen nodded, her eyes sad.
"I know it's hard, but it's
important we talk to him
about it," she said. "We need
to let him know we're here
for him."

They both took deep breaths,
preparing themselves for the
conversation ahead. They
walked back into the room,
where Plankton still sat on the
edge of the bed, his head
in his hands.

"Plankton," Karen began,
her voice soft. "We need
to talk to him about your
autism." But Plankton was
still too lost in his own
head to listen.

He sat there, his antennae
twitching rapidly, his body
swaying slightly. He was
in his own world.

Karen watched him, her
heart aching. She knew
his anger wasn't directed
at Chip, but at himself,
his own limitations. She
also knew that this was
the best time to start
the conversation they had
been avoiding. "Plankton,"
she said softly. "We need
to tell Chip about what your
autis–"

"NO!" Plankton shouted,
his stims escalating. "It's
none of his business!" He
shouts, looking at Chip.

Chip's eyes widened at
his dad's outburst. He had
never seen him like this.
Karen's grip on Chip's hand
tightened, but she didn't
move to leave. "Plankton,"
she said, her voice calm,
but firm, "Chip found you.
He's already seen i---"

"I DIDN'T WANT HIM 
TO SEE!" Plankton's 
voice was sharp, his 
body shaking slightly. 
"I DON'T WANT HIM 
TO KNOW ANYMORE!"

The words echoed in
the room, each one a
dull thud to Karen's
heart. Plankton's stims
were more pronounced
now, his tongue clicking
against the roof of his
mouth in a rapid,
nervous pattern. "Kkr-kr-kr,"
he repeated, his eye
squeezed shut.

Chip watched, his
small chest rising and
falling with quick
breaths. He had never
seen his dad like this,
so out of control. But
his fear was now
mingled with curiosity.
"What's happening, Mom?"
he whispered.

"It's okay, sweetie,"
Karen assured him, her voice
still calm despite the
tension in the room.
"Dad's just trying to
make sense of everything.
Sometimes, people with
autism do things called
stims to help them cope."

new stimcore my autistic dad 2

r/TwoSentenceHorror
34 min. ago
MistStarz


“Sweetie, dolls don’t move on ıt's own,” 
mother comforted her terrıfıed 
daughter.

“So just sit sti̕ll while I stitch your prettɥ lıttle møuth up.”

new dollkin dollcore familycore sitcore twistedcore terriblecore horrorbuff

July 1996

. Twins can be conjoined at the:

Abdomen (omphalopagus).
Chest (thoracopagus).
Top of head down to the belly button, facing each other (cephalopagus).
Head only (craniopagus).
Pelvis, facing each other (ischiopagus).
Pelvis, side-to-side (parapagus).
Rump-to-rump (pygopagus).
Vertebral column (rachipagus).

Generally, parapagus are conjoined at the upper chest. Parapagus, united laterally, always share a conjoined pelvis with one or two sacrums and one symphysis pubis. Dithoracic parapagus is when the two chests are separated, and the fusion is confined to the pelvis and abdomen. Dicephalic parapagus is if there is the union of the entire trunk but not the heads. The heart, liver, and diaphragm are fused, but there is a duplication of the respiratory tract and upper digestive tract; the viscera organs are fused. There are two arms, two legs, and two complete vertebral column and spinal cord. The number of limbs varies from 4 to 7, rarely with four legs. Generally, each lung is present in a separate lung cavity. The fusion of lungs is very rare. The alignment of the conjoined pelvis is diagnostic-one complete pelvic ring, with a single anterior pubic symphysis, and with two laterally fused sacral bones, and predominantly only one rectum. Ischiopagi are united ventrally extending from the umbilicus down to a sizeable conjoined pelvis with two symphyses pubis and two sacrum. Craniopagus can be united at any portion of the skull except at the face and the foramen magnum. Pygopagus varieties are joined dorsally; sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions, sometimes even involving the spinal cord. Rachipagus twins are united dorsally above the sacrum. The union may also include the occiput. The cephalopagus varients are fused from the umbilicus to the top of the head. The pelvis and lower abdomen are usually not fused. Thoracopagus are united face-to-face from the upper thorax down till the umbilicus. Omphalopagus are primarily United at the umbilical region aligned face to face. The pelvis is not united. The pure parapagus is two heads, two hands, two legs, two hearts and two pairs of lungs.

Conjoined twins are classified on the basis of the union's site, with the suffix pagus meaning fixed or fastened. The twins can have four (tetrapus), three (tripus), or two (bipus) legs.

Cephalopagus: The twins often have a fused thorax in addition to a fused head. The single fused head may have two faces (janiceps) 

Cephalothoracopagus twinning is characterized by the anterior union of the upper half of the body, with two faces angulated variably on a conjoined head. The anomaly is occasionally known as janiceps, named after the two-faced Roman god Janus. The prognosis is extremely poor because surgical separation is not an option, in that only a single brain and a single heart are present and the gastrointestinal (GI) tracts are fused.

Craniopagus: The conjoined twins share the skull, meninges, and venous sinuses 

Ischiopagus: The twins may lie face to face or end to end

Pygopagus: The twins are joined dorsally, sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions 

Rachipagus: The twins generally have vertebral anomalies and neural tube defects.

Thoracopagus: The twins lie face to face and share the sternum, diaphragm, upper abdomen wall, and liver and have an exomphalos 

new familycore healthcore surgerycore conjoint

22 years ago, a 16 year old girl was pregnant with a baby.

Understanding the circumstances, her parents told her to abort or be disowned.

Her best friend - her 18 year old neighbour - although he was not the father, stepped into the father figures shoes. They got married 2 years later.

Mom and Dad, your love for me, and for each other, GMH.

 Dec 1st, 2014

new lgmh neighborcore familycore abortioncore gmh

In 1989 a woman gave birth to a girl who had down syndrome, and a hole in her heart and stomach. She died 3 years later.

Her next child was miscarried. She got pregnant again and was told to have an abortion that refused even though she knew the risks were high for her and the baby.

Here I am 14 years later, perfectly healthy.

Mom, your LGMH

 Dec 1st, 2014

new lgmh miscarriagecore abortioncore familycore gmh

Terms for the Mvrder of Loved Ones

Amicicide:  of one’s friend  (amicus - friend)  

Avunculicide:  of one’s uncle  (avunculus - maternal uncle)  

Familicide:  of one’s family (spouse and children)  (familia - family)  

Filicide: of one’s daughter or son  (filia - daughter; filius - son)  

Fratricide: of one’s brother (or sibling) (frater - brother; fratrem - sibling)  

Mariticide:  of one’s husband (or spouse) (maritus - husband, spouse)  

Matricide:  of one’s mother  (mater - mother)  

Neonaticide:  of one’s newborn child (neo - new; natus - born)

Patricide: of one’s father (pater - father)

Prolicide: of one’s offspring (proles - offspring)

Senicide: of one’s elder (senes - elderly; senex - old man)

Sororicide:  of one’s sister (soror - sister)

Uxoricide:  of one’s wife (uxor - wife, spouse)

Amiticide:  of one’s aunt (amita - paternal aunt)

Aniclicide:  of one’s female elder (anicla - old woman)

Avicide:  of one’s grandparent (avia - grandmother; avus - grandfather)

Conjicide:  of one’s spouse (conjux, coniux - spouse, husband, wife)

Nepticide:  of one’s niece (nepti - niece)

new murdercore familycore friendcore grandparentcore friendscore

WIFE 

"Honey, I'm home!" I yelled, seeing my wife sitting at the dinner
table already. "Nice to see you." her voice shook,
a plastic smile stuck on her face. "It was a long day at work. Hey, do you
mind maybe checking out upstairs? I saw your clothes strewn around...'
I shrug, and start to eat dinner.
"Of course!" A fuller, bigger smile.
She races upstairs, and I continue eating.
escarysories It's been quite a while, does it really
take that long to put away clothes?
So I tiptoe upstairs, and hear panicked whispering. *9111 Yes okay, this man thinks I'm his wife
and.. ohmygod he's coming! My address j.*
"What's going on, honey?" She screams as I impale the knife
into her chest.

new familycore twistedcore wife

r/shortscarystories
10 hr. ago
KieranWriter


Family Photo


The father stood at the front of the 
family photo and beamed a huge smile.

The kids were seated in front of 
the father on little stools.

His wife Deborah was at his side 
and he had his arms around her.

The camera was an automatic one 
the father had set before quickly 
running to get in to the frame.

Click. Big smiles.

The father walked over to the camera.

Just one more. Click. Big smiles.

It was done. A perfect family portrait. 
Get this up in a frame and he can take 
it with him wherever he goes...

The father put the kids to their beds 
and then his wife in front of the TV. 
It was Desperate Housewives; her favourite!

It made the father smile.

Don’t worry dear, I’ll do the dishes. 
I’ll load the washing. You just watch TV.

The father was a perfect husband. He did 
everything that he said he would. A real 
whizz around the house.

The house was sparkling 
by the time he had finished.

There was a chime on Deborah’s phone.
It was her sister Mary
 - Hey, not heard from you all day. You ok?

Deborah won’t mind, I will just shoot off a 
short message so that Mary isn’t too alarmed.

 - Hey all good, just watching TV, really tired. 
Long day. Off to bed soon xx.

It’s fine. They look at each other’s phones all 
the time. There’s trust in this relationship.

A reply from Mary
 - OK call me tomorrow xx

The father thought for a moment, just a moment, a 
flicker of worry, then replied
 - sorry better I don’t, I’ve caught a bad sore throat.

The father went into the living room to Deborah and 
gave her a big kiss on the forehead...

The next day, the father puts the frame up in 
the hallway, it will be the first thing that people 
will see when they walk into the house - the beautiful 
family, everybody’s dream...

Then he spent about an hour mowing the lawn.

After everything around the house was sorted, the father 
knew he could relax, finally relax and that the pressure 
was on for anything unexpected visits, so they don't walk 
into a dirty home...

He got into the car and took it out of the garage, turned it 
around and hit the road heading out of suburbs and through the city.

He loved his family, he really did, but sometimes a man needs a change 
and this father needs a fresh start. It wasn’t his first change of scenery.

He looked at the copy of the picture of his wife and kids on the dash
board and he felt a stab of pain...

If only he had taken that picture when they were still alive...

new familycore hometowncore horrorkin family photo

r/TwoSentenceHorror
11 hr. ago
SkullStar

“I only want two kids; no more, no less”, my husband reassured me as I smiled.

The twins went inside the house and as my husband's pregnant mistress crossed the street, my foot pressed on the gas pedal.

new familycore pregcore twincore feticidal

I was at my friends house, whose 5yr old little
brother died very recently due to a fire. He lived with his aunt and uncle. At dinner, his 4yr old
cousin blessed the meal. "Dear God, thank you for this meal. And I know your
keeping Brenden safe. Never stop playing with him.
Amen."
Little kids GMH

Mar 23, 2011 at 11:30pm by Carly, AR

new familycore kgmh gmh

https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B

Francis Edmund Bessette
Male 1904 - 1917  (~ 12 years)

Name	Francis Edmund Bessette 

Father	Augustin Seymour Bessette,   b. 1870,   d. 28 Aug 1948  (Age 78 years) 
Mother	Marie Louise Poulin 

Born	Jul 1904 	Richford, Vermont  
Gender	Male 
Died	1917 	Richford, Vermont

 	
The Bennington Evening Banner, Friday, October 10, 1919
Boy Suffocates In Elevator
Head Forced Between Knees When Caught in Pit by Descending Car

Richford, Oct. 8 ? Edmund (Edward?) Bessette, the 15-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Bessette, died of suffocation shortly after six o?clock tonight in a very unusual accident, his body being caught between the bottom of an elevator pit and the descending elevator, which forced his head between his knees and shut off his breath.
The accident happened as the lad went down to the basement of the Sweat Comings building for the purpose of getting some cracked ice to put in ice cream tanks for he Corliss Candy Kitchen where he was emplo9yed after school hours.
The buckets were filled with ice and it is supposed that the boy pulled the cable starting the elevator down and it pushed him under it. The accident was discovered when the boy failed to show up. H.H. Comings, first selectman, and Dr. R. M. Pelton were summoned and removed the body to the undertaking rooms of Powell & Comings, where and examination was held. No broken bones or even abrasions were discovered on the body and death was found due to suffocation.

Buried	All Saints Cemetery, Richford, Vermont

https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B

new familycore vermontcore bessette

Today my aunt found out she's having a girl 
She told me she was upset, I asked why She said "I don't think anyone can live up to be as great as you, but then I remember that she will have you to look up to and to become as
wonderful"
My aunts love for me GMH:)

Jul 15, 2013 at 4:00am by Ashley S

new lgmh familycore gmh

Yesterday I saw a mother and daughter studying
for a big test, and the daughter has a disability . A man at the restaurant paid for their dinner and said, " God bless you for taking the time and working with
YOUR daughter, and not paying someone else to do it".
Loving families like this GMH !

Mar 22, 2011 at 3:00am by Morgan E,
Nashville, TN

new yesterdaycore familycore gmh

Go to TwoSentenceHorror
r/TwoSentenceHorror
13 hr. ago
Classic-Dog8399

 ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᵖˡˢ ⬇️

When I picked up my daughter from the mental institution, something was off about her.

It was not just the feeling in my soul, but the stitches across her forehead.

new soulcore horrorpost horrorposters horrorbuff familycore mentalcore acrania

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 16

Plankton's antennae 
twitch, and his 
body relaxes further 
into the embrace. 
He's safe here, with 
his son, in a world 
that so often feels 
like too much. Chip 
doesn't need him to 
be like everyone else, 
and that knowledge 
brings him peace.

The room is silent 
but for the soft 
snores of Plankton 
as he drifts into 
sleep. His breathing 
is even, his body 
finally at ease. 
Chip watches him, 
his own eyes growing 
heavy. He's learned 
so much today, 
about his dad, 
about himself, about 
their complex life.

He lies back, his 
head resting on the 
pillow, his arm 
still wrapped 
around his dad. 
How can he show 
love to him? To be a 
supportive son?

The next morning
Chip awoke to find
his mom gathering
their suitcases, as
they'd make the 
drive back home
today. She put Chip's
trophy and ribbon in
his suitcase. Plankton's
still asleep, his head
on Chip's shoulder.

Chip felt a gentle
warmth in his chest
looking at his dad,
his antennae slightly
quivering in his sleep.
He didn't want to wake
him too abruptly. So,
he gently began to
move his fingers
along Plankton's arm.

The soft touch seemed
to resonate within
Plankton's dream, his
body giving a slight
twitch. Chip took a
deep breath and continued,
his fingertips tracing
slow circles, hoping 
it would be enough 
to rouse him without
causing distress.

Plankton's antennae 
twitched again, 
picking up on the 
comforting pattern.

"Dad?" Chip 
whispered, his 
voice gentle. He did
not want to startle 
his father, who 
was finally at 
rest after the 
overwhelming day.

Plankton's antennae 
twitched again, 
his eye still closed.
"DAD," Chip tried 
again, a little too
loud this time.
Plankton jolted 
awake, his antennae 
springing to life.

"What?" He asked, 
his voice filled with 
slumber. Chip felt 
his heart race. "It's 
time to go home, Dad.."

Plankton's antennae 
relaxed at the 
familiar voice, his 
body slowly moving 
from the warmth of 
his son's embrace. He 
sat up, rubbing his 
eye. "Home," he repeats, 
his mind slowly 
waking up to the 
world around him.

Karen looked up 
from her packing, 
smiling at the 
scene. "That's 
right," she said, her 
voice soft. "We need 
to get going."

Plankton blinked 
slowly. "Home," 
he murmurs again.

Chip nodded. 
"Yeah, home," he 
says, his voice 
trembling slightly. 
He'd had enough 
of the repetition, 
his mind craving 
a break from the 
endless cycle of 
his dad's words.

Plankton's facial
expression remains
neutral, his eye
not quite focusing. 
"Home" he parrots,
his voice flat. "Ho-"

Chip's patience 
starts to fray. "Yes, 
Dad, home," he says, 
his tone sharper 
than he intended. He's 
tired of the same 
words, the same 
questions, the same 
look of confusion. 
It's like talking to 
a broken record.
"You DON'T have to 
repeat everything," he 
exclaims, making
Plankton jump.

Karen pauses in 
her packing, her 
heart racing. She 
knows this is a 
moment that can 
spiral quickly, but 
she also knows 
Chip's frustration 
is real, too.

"Chip," she says, 
her voice calm. 
"Remember, Dad's 
autism makes 
things hard for 
him. He's just 
trying to 
make sense of 
what we're 
saying." She 
crosses the room 
to stand beside 
them, her hand 
on Chip's shoulder.
Plankton's antennae 
are still.

Chip's face softens. 
"Okay, Dad," he says, 
his voice gentle. "We're 
going home soon."
He reaches up to 
stroke Plankton's 
cheek.

But Plankton's 
reaction isn't what 
he expects. His 
dad's antennae 
snap back, and his 
face contorts in 
discomfort. "Chip," 
he says, his voice 
strained. "No."

Chip's hand 
freezes, his eyes 
wide with shock. He 
quickly withdraws 
his touch, his 
heart racing. "I'm 
sorry," he whispers.
"I didn't mea-"

But Plankton 
doesn't let him 
finish. "No," he 
says again, more 
firmly this time. 
"I don't like that!"

"Dad," Chip says, 
his voice small. 
"What's w---"

But Plankton 
interrupts, his 
voice rising. "I said 
no, Chip! I DON'T 
WANT THAT!" His
hands balled into 
fists. Karen 
moves closer.

The room feels
smaller, the air 
thicker. Chip 
swallows hard. "I'm 
sorry," he says again.
"I didn't kn-" "I 
JUST WANT TO GO 
HOME!" Plankton
shouts over Chip.
"So STOP TOUCHING 
ME!" His antennae 
vibrate in frustration, 
a rare show of his
physical anger.
"I don't want to 
be touched right 
now!"

Karen's eyes 
fill with sadness. 
She knows Plankton's 
boundaries, has seen 
his frustration boil 
over before. But 
it never gets 
easier, never 
hurts less. But
Chip wants to
fix it, in the only
way he knows how.

He reaches out 
his hand again, 
slowly, tentatively, 
his eyes searching 
his father's. "It's 
okay, Dad," he says, 
his hand hovering 
above Plankton's 
shoulder. "I just 
wa-"

But Plankton's 
frustration turns to 
fear. "NO!" He yells, 
his body tensing. 
"PLEASE!"

Chip's hand 
freezes in midair, 
his eyes wide with 
surprise and 
hurt. He hadn't 
meant to upset 
his dad so much. 
He'd just wanted 
to help. So he pulls 
his hand back, but 
accidentally brushes 
his arm against 
Plankton's. The 
contact is light, 
barely noticeable 
to anyone else, but 
for Plankton, it's 
like a jolt of electricity.

Plankton's antennae 
shiver violently, 
his body convulsing. 
His one eye 
rolls back in his 
head as he 
collapses onto the 
bed, his legs 
thrashing against 
the mattress. Karen
sighs.

"Another seizure,"
Karen says. "It's his 
brain's way of 
dealing with stress," 
she explains.

Chip nods, his 
heart racing. Plankton's 
tiny body convulses 
on the hotel bed, 
his antennae flailing 
wildly. Karen quickly 
moves to his side.
Her eyes never 
leave his. She's done 
this before, so 
many times, but 
each seizure still 
slices through her 
like a knife. "It's 
okay," she murmurs
as Chip watched.

new adaptable family bedcore wake

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 25

Time seems to drag
as they wait for Plankton 
to wake up. But finally
Karen notices a slight 
twitch in his eyebrow, 
his antennae starting to 
move slightly.

Sandy squeezes Chip's 
hand. "Look, he's 
coming around," she 
whispers. Chip's eyes 
snap to his dad's face, 
his heart racing.

Plankton's single eye 
flickers open, looking 
around the room with 
a haze of confusion. 
Karen rises from her 
chair, her hand 
still tight around 
his. "Hi, honey," she says 
gently. "You're okay.
You just had a little 
surgery. Your dentist
removed your wisdom
teeth. Are you almost
ready to go home?"

Plankton's gaze settles
on her face, his 
expression still cloudy. 
He tries to speak, but 
his mouth is thick with 
cotton. "Wha..." he 
mumbles, his tongue
fumbling with the 
gauze and numbness.

Karen's eyes fill with
relief. "Shh, it's okay.
You're in recovery."
Her voice is a soothing 
balm to his confusion.
Sandy steps forward, 
her eyes shining with
concern. "You're okay,
buddy! How goes it?"

Plankton blinks 
slowly, the world
swimming before his
eye. "M'th... moufth?"
he mumbles, his speech
slurred from the numbness
and remaining anesthesia.

Sandy and Karen
can't help but chuckle
at his antics. "Your
mouth is okay, Plankton,"
Karen explains, her voice
patient. "They just
removed extra molars."

Plankton's antennae
wave erratically as
his eye widens. "I can'th
fee my teef," he says,
his voice still thick. He 
tries to sit up, only to fall 
back with a thump,
his antennae drooping.
"Whoa," he says, his
eye spinning. "The floor
moveths." 

Chip giggles nervously,
his heart racing. He's 
seen his dad act weird 
before, but not like
this. Sandy's laughter 
fills the room. "Oh, 
Plankton," she says. "You're
always full of surprises."

The nurse smiles. 
"It's the anesthesia,"
she explains. "It'll
wear off in a bit. But
for now, keep talking to
him."

Karen nods, her
relief palpable. She
knows her husband's
quirks, but this is new
even for him. She leans
in. "You're ok, Plankton.
We're here for you."

Plankton's antennae
twitch as he tries to 
comprehend. His voice
slurs more, "Whewe am I?"
He looks around, his 
eye blinking. "I'm in’a
white... box?" His words
slur together, and he 
starts to giggle. "I thishk
I'm in a fridge!"

The nurse, Karen, and
Chip all chuckle despite
themselves. The tension
in the room breaks a
little. "Dad, you're
still at the dentist,"
Chip says, trying to
keep a straight face.

"Dentith?" Plankton
slurs, his antennae waving 
in confusion. "Why am I
in da fridge den?" His
laughter turns into a
snort, and the gauze in
his mouth shifts, 
causing him to drool.
"Careful, buddy," Sandy
says, her eyes crinkling
with amusement. "You've
got gauze in your mouth."
Plankton looks up. "Gosh?"

Chip can't hold in his
laughter anymore. He
sees the humor in the
situation, despite the
anxiety from earlier.
"You're in the surgery
recovery room, Dad," he 
explains, trying not
to laugh. "You had
some teeth removed."

Plankton's antennae
wave wildly. "Teesh?"
He asks, his voice
slurred. "I can'th feel 
my teethies. Dith they 
tik dem aww?"

This sets off a 
fit of giggles from 
the group, even Karen
can't hold back. "They
just took out your 
wisdom teeth, love,"
she says, her voice 
full of mirth. "They
had to, remember?"

Plankton's eye crosses. 
"Wi’dom teefs?" He
repeats, his voice 
slurred. "Buth... but I'm 
smart wifth aww my 
teef!" He tries to 
touch his mouth, but 
his arm flops back 
down, too heavy. 
"Windom teefs awe 
supposeth to be...
smart?" His voice
trails off into a 
silly giggle.

The nurse laughs 
lightly. "Mr. Plankton,
you're adorable. But 
yes, wisdom teeth 
can cause problems.
They're like the extra 
baggage in your mouth 
that you don't need."

Sandy looks at him.
"Do you recall anyth—"

But Plankton's eye rolls
back and he's out again,
snoring gently. The nurse
chuckles. "It's the 
medicine," she says. "He's
still under the effects.
Give him some time."

Karen nods, her 
smile lingering despite
the situation. She's 
seen Plankton act silly
before, but never 
like this. The anesthesia
has brought out a
whole new side of him.

new adaptable family wisdomtoothcore wisdomteethcore

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 5

As they pack the last of their
things, Plankton can't help but
wonder what the science fair
will be like. So many people,
so many sounds, so much to
process. It's a minefield of
overstimulation, but for Chip,
he's gonna try.

Bags in the trunk, Karen
gets in the driver's seat
as Plankton and Chip sit
in the back together.

"You okay, Dad?" Chip asks,
his voice gentle. Plankton
nods, his antennae still as
the car starts with a purr.

After leaving the driveway
Chip notices his dad's
humming to himself, a soft,
steady rhythm. Plankton's
hands are in his lap,
fidgeting slightly as he
focuses on the hum.

"What are you doing?"
Chip asks, his curiosity
getting the better of him.

Plankton jumps in his seat,
antennae shooting up. "I'm...
uh...just...thinking?" He's
flabbergasted that his son
has caught him stimming.
He's still trying to process
the idea that his son now
knows his deepest, most
personal secret.

Chip's eyes widen. 
"Thinking?" He 
repeats. "With a so-"
"Chip," Karen interrupts.
She knows Plankton's 
stimming, which he never
likes to speak of. Yet she
also knew Chip's trying to
understand, and decided
it's time to explain.

"Your dad's humming is a 
stim," she says gently, 
keeping her eyes on the 
road ahead. "It's something 
some autistic folks do to 
help manage their sensory 
input or self-soothe."
Chip nods, filing away the 
new information. "Oh," he says,
as Plankton freezes. "So Dad, 
is that why you sometimes 
do that spinning thing with 
your fing--"

"Chip!" Plankton 
snaps, his voice 
harsher than he 
intends. So Karen 
jumps in.

"Sweetie," she says,
turning in the 
passenger seat to 
face her son, "Dad's 
stims are private.
They're like his 
personal way of 
taking a deep breath 
when things get too 
much. He doesn't do
it for anyone else, 
just for himself. And
if he's alright with
sharing them with us,
that's his choice. But
it's important we
respect his privacy."

Plankton's gaze 
meets hers in the 
rearview mirror,
gratitude in his 
eye, hands stilling
as Karen continued.
"And unless he 
says so, it's not for 
us to bring up or
comment on them," 
she explains to Chip.
"So your dad hums,
or flaps his arms, or 
rocks his body, even
muttering to himself. 
They're all his ways of 
stimming, and aren't
to be interrupted or 
discussed unless he 
initiates it. If he seems
distressed, you can ask if
he needs anything, but
otherwise, just be there 
for him."

Chip nods, his 
face a picture of
concentration. "Ok,
Mom," he says. 
"But could, can I 
tr-" "NO!" Plankton's 
voice cuts through 
the car, sharp 
and sudden.
He turns to face 
his son, his eye
blazing. "I don't
want you staring at 
or making fun
of me!"

Karen's eyes meet
Plankton's in the 
mirror, filled with
a mix of love and 
frustration. She knew
this outburst is rooted in 
fear and vulnerability.
"Chip wasn't trying to, 
Plankton," she says.
Chip shrinks back, his
face reddening. "I'm so
sorry," he stammers.
Plankton's face softens,
his antennae drooping.
"I know," he murmurs.
"It's just...it's hard."

Karen nods. "So the
science fair is gonna
be tomorrow, so the
hotel we're going to
tonight has reserved
the contestants and
their families rooms!
So the three of us are
gonna have to share 
the hotel room."

Plankton's antennae
twitch. "And, Dad," 
Chip says, his voice
full of excitement. "It's 
going to be so cool! 
There'll be so many 
science lovers like us!"

Plankton nods, trying
to mirror his son's
enthusiasm, but inside
he's panicking. So many
people, so many
potential triggers. But
he can't let Chip see
his fear. He takes a
deep breath, his hand
against his own seat
in a stim. "Yea."

The car ride is 
quiet for a while, 
and Plankton
finds himself
getting drowsy.
He fights the urge
to close his eye.

He knows if he 
dozes off, he'd be
embarrassed, and he 
can't let that happen 
now, not with Chip
watching him so 
closely. He focuses
on the scenery 
passing by, the 
rhythm of the 
car's tires on the 
road, anything to 
keep himself awake.

But it's a losing 
battle. His eyelid 
keeps drooping, his 
brain begging for 
rest. He starts 
counting the yellow 
lines on the road, 
then switches to red
cars, but the 
monotony of it all 
just makes him 
sleepier. His head 
nods, and he jolts 
awake with a 
start, his heart 
racing for a 
moment. Chip 
glances at his
father. "You okay, 
Dad?"

Plankton nods, 
his antennae 
twitching with 
the effort to stay 
awake. "Fine, buddy," 
he says. But his 
body feels heavy, 
like he's sinking into 
the car seat. He 
decides to try 
distraction. "So, tell 
me more about your 
science fair schedule," 
he asks, hoping that 
his son's excitement 
will keep him alert.

Chip's face lights 
up. "Well, tomorrow 
we've got the setup 
in the morning, then 
the judging starts 
right after lunch."
He rattles off the 
various categories and
his predictions for 
each, his voice rising 
and falling with 
enthusiasm. Plankton 
nods along, trying to 
keep up with the 
flurry of information.
But his eyelid starts 
drooping again.

"And then there's the 
final round!" Chip says, 
his voice carrying 
on despite Plankton's 
fading attention. "I've got 
my experiment all set up 
by myse—"

Plankton's snore cuts 
his son off mid-sentence
as his head lolls, his
mouth slightly open, to 
Chip's shoulder.

Chip looks at Karen 
in the front seat, her 
eyes glancing back at 
them in the mirror with 
a knowing smile. "It
looks like he's really
tired," she says, keeping
her voice low. "It's
okay to let him sleep."
Chip nods, feeling a
wave of protectiveness
over his father. He
chuckles, taking a selfie
with Plankton's sleeping
face on his phone. He
forwards the selfie to
Karen's phone. She tries
not to giggle. "Oh, Chip,"
she smiles, "Dad's not
gonna take that too
kindly when he wakes up."

new adaptable family stimcore stimming

What GENS are y’all? 🤨

Lost Gen – 1883-1900 😩 

Greatest Gen – 1901-1927 👵🏽👴🏾

Silent Gen – 1928-1945 🤫 

Baby Boomer Gen – 1946-1964 👩🏽‍🍼👶🏽👨🏾‍🍼
 
Gen X – 1965 - 1980 ❌ 

Millennial – 1981-1996 💎 

Gen Z – 1997-2012 💤

Gen Alpha – 2013 - present 🎁

new familycore listcore peoplecore gens

r/shortscarystories
3 yr. ago
deontistic

Unnatural Birth

ᵀᵂ ᶜᵘᵗˢ

There was no other way, and there was no one else. The grotesque swell to the belly, the unnatural writhing, my indescribable pain—I was panicked, but I knew it was up to me. I had to do it. No one else seemed to have the spine to offer anything more than assistance.

Clinically . . . I had to think clinically. And I had to move fast, had to take the kn*fe and cut—yet I had to be careful not to cut too deep. To cut too deep would mean certain disaster, wouldn’t it. I had to šhut everything down; I had to šhut off the lights in all my rooms except the one where I would cut. I had to ignore my paın . . . exit the moment . . . had to proceed.

I took the kn*fe and placed its blxde on the belly, then I pressed and dragged—not too hãrd, but firm. The layers cut more easily than I’d imagined, and my incision was true. Still, no time to waste . . . had to keep moving. I pulled back the layers and reached deep into the belly. He was right there, my chıld, my soñ . . . I held him in my hands inside the belly, then I pulled him through the viscera, the muscle, the skın.

I held him in my arms, covered in blood as he was, eyès half øpened staring at nothing. Of course he was đeađ, just as they’d said he’d be. I held him . . . and I wailed . . . and wailed . . .

I hated . . . I hated my husband for making us come to the Amazon with him, hated myself for not refusing to come. I hated that I’d look͘ed̛ away, even though it’d only been for the slightest of moments. And though the beast hadn’t acted out of malevolence as my heart told me it surely must’ve, but only out of its instinct to survive . . . I hated the anaconda, too. My boy, my little James . . . he was just two . . .

new familycore surgerycore reddit

r/shortscarystories
2 yr. ago
Monechetti

Can't choose where you're born

I live in a pretty brutal part of town. My mom was an addict and, after she died when I was 15 I became the head of the household. Sometimes my aunt watches my younger brother and sister while I work and sometimes I just have to lock the door. Hope that my siblings are okay while I'm gone. It's difficult but we make it work because we have to.

My neighborhood is filled with addicts like my mother. Murder is a regular occurrence and drive-bys happen pretty much once or twice a week. Most people will think nothing of a body laying in the gutter for 2 weeks at a time before the city finally comes and takes it away, and the police never investigate crimes here.

You can't choose where you're born but I've been saving money to get me and my siblings out of this place. I was on my way to my second job when I ran into the strangers.

They were out of place standing at the edge of an alley like they had just been dumped there. They were both wearing white suits - impeccably clean white suits, which I thought was weird considering how dirty everything was - and they had startled looks on their faces.

"Y'all look lost," I said. One of them turned to me and smiled.

"We are, yes. We traveled here and need a place to stay for the night. Could you help us?"

I didn't want to bring them to my house because of the kids - these guys seemed harmless but you never can trust anyone. I decided to take them to an abandoned trap house a few doors down.

On our way we were mugged. I recognize the guys from my high school. I handed over my money and they left me alone but the travelers didn't have anything except the clothes on their back. He took their shoes and roughed them up pretty bad.

I apologized - not sure why - and stated that we should go quicker. We were assaulted again on the next block, and propositioned by a pimp and several people trying to sell drugs at the underpass.

I let them into the house when we finally got there and said that this was a safe place. The men looked weary, angry, and sad all the same time but they thanked me for my hospitality. I left and went to work.

When I came home I decided to check on the travelers and found that the door to the house had been kicked in. Inside I found one of them beaten to death and the other one trembling in the corner. He looked at me accusingly and said "I thought this was your home - why would you lead us to a place where we would be attacked?"

I told him I thought they'd be safe there but he stopped listening and shook his head. He stood up and went outside and looked at the sky; the clear moon shown down but clouds quickly gathered. He started praying.

"Father," he shouted, "there are none here who are without sin." He looked at me and sneered before vanishing, the clouds flashing orange and red as his final words floated on the wind.

"Burn it all down".

new familycore reddit lot

r/shortscarystories
3 mo. ago
Intrepid_Wanderer

ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ

Delivery Room

My grandparents were worried when I said I'd decided to get the tablet.

They're a bit old-fashioned, but they mean well. The thing is, it's 2084. 

Most people who can get the tablet just go ahead and accelerate 

through all nine months of pregnancy. The baby can be born as soon 

as the parents like- no need to endure mornıng sickness or false 

warnings for labor. And miscarriages are nearly a thing of the past- 

most babies are accelerated at the first warning. Medical technology 

is truly amazing.

Not everyone accelerates. Some people worry about those obscure 

studies on bonding ability in accelerated babies, some consider a 

"natural" course an unmissable experience and some just don't have 

access to it. Most of the time, though, people accelerate.

I was so excited to get to the hospital. I didn't even get an ultrasound 

done first- the test was positive, and I was about to see my baby 

anyway in a few minutes.

There were the occasional horror stories. Most of them were urban 

legends, tales of some quack who messed up and made horrific 

things happen. Truth was, there was very little to mess up, especially 

at a nice clinic like this one. With today's medications, I could 

expect to hardly feel the labor and go home with my family on the 

same day.

They said I'd feel a tingling in my abdomen, maybe even some light 

kicking. At first I did, but it was more uncomfortable than I'd imagined. 

It was like a twisting, stretching sensation inside of me. I hated to 

imagine what it might have been like if the tablet didn't also act as an 

aesthetic.

I tried to close my eyes and breathe through it. Something was 

soaking through the bed- must be my water breakıng. But it smelled 

metallic, and I was so dizzy. Why didn't I hear crying? Shouldn't it have 

worked by now?

Someone started shouting, but I couldn't open my eyes to see why. 

The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was a doctor 

asking about ultrasounds and the words "ectopic pregnancy."

new familycore Science Fiction & Fantasy delivery room

Go to shortscarystories
r/shortscarystories
6 yr. ago
JCarnacki

 
A child's story.


We gots to go to the hopsital today. Mommy got me
a new baby brother for my birfday just like I telled 
her. My new brother is James and I love him! Mommy 
has been sleeping but she just waked up when the 
doctor opened the door. The doctor looks sad. Now 
mommy is crying. Daddy is crying too. What is, "can 
sir?"

new familycore cancercore james

To my dear darling baby.
Author: Anonymous
Baby Name: Baby Zepeda
Birth Date: May 2011
Abortion Date: October 2010

The pain sometimes is so hard to bear, even after 11 years. I regretted it all the moment I woke up from the procedure. I screamed, “My baby!”. I’m so sorry I was weak and insecure. Your dad didn’t want to keep you because we were barely making it and didn’t want to give you a bad life. I was scared, no one would love me like your dad and he would leave me if I kept you. How wrong we were. He wouldn’t have left me. He would have loved you so much. Baby, you are missed every second of my life. Both your dad and I regret our decision. He also hurts for you too even tho he doesn’t show it. You have 2 sisters and 1 brother. I can’t wait to hug you and hold and kiss you in heaven. Oh my baby. How could I have been so stupid and weak. I know you are with God, Jesus y tu bisabuela y tus tios! I love you with all my being and hope you can forgive me. Your passing lead me to God. The only positive. I love you!

Posted: Jul 6, 2022

new familycore abortioncore

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 8
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

As she pulled the blankets up
to his chin, Plankton's hand
reached out, grasping for hers. "Stay,"
he murmured, his voice
barely above a whisper. Karen squeezed his
hand gently. "Always," she promised.

They sat in the quiet of
the room, the only sound the
rhythmic squeezing of the fidget
toy. Plankton's eyelid grew
heavy, his breathing deepening.
"It's ok," Karen whispered,
stroking his forehead. "Rest now."
Plankton's hand tightened briefly
around hers before his grip
slackened. His eye fluttered
closed, and she watched him
slip into a deep, much-needed
sleep.

During the week, Plankton got
more comfortable as Karen 
helped make adjustments. She
let him stim safely without any
judgment, even suggesting
different ways to fidget. And
she saw Plankton's old self shine
through, too. As usual, he stayed
up late watching movies. He'd
sigh and lightly tease Karen when
it came to mundane matters. Yet
she knew when it came to sensory
matters and potential triggers, it's
unnegotiable. He did open up to her
more due to his fears which came
from the autism. He didn't try to
steal the krabby patty formula any
more, but that didn't stop him from
spying on the krusty krab.

But their son Chip, whom they
adopted at birth, was going to
come home. Chip had left during
the beginning of the week before
Plankton acquired autism, to a
week long camp with some school 
mates of his. But now it's the
weekend, and Chip will be coming
back from his trip today.

Karen felt a pang of anxiety
as she thought about Chip
seeing Plankton. Would he
understand? Would he be scared?
Would he still love him? "Plankton,
Chip's old enough to underst--"

"No," Plankton said firmly,
his voice clear. "I don't want
anyone to know." Karen knew
his fear of change, of being
different. "But, Plankton,"
she began, her voice gentle.
"Chip is our son, and he might
notice changes..."

Plankton's eye grew stormy.
"No," he repeated. "I don't want
to be..." Plankton trails off as
Chip himself came in excitedly.
"Mom; Dad!"

Plankton's gaze darted to their
son, his hand tightening around
his fidget toy. She watched as
Chip rushed over, his eyes full
of excitement from his camp
adventures. "Hi, I'm home!" Chip
says, hugging Karen before turning
to Plankton.

Plankton's body tensed, his
eye avoiding Chip's gaze. "Hi,
son," he murmured, his voice
forced, But Chip, ever cheerful, 
doesn't seem to notice.
"Dad!" Chip said, launching
himself at Plankton.

"Welcome home," Plankton said,
his voice a monotone. Chip's
expression fell a little, but
his excitement was too great
to be dampened.

"How was camp?" Karen asked,
trying to ease the tension.
Chip's enthusiasm was
infectious. "It was amazing!
We did archery, and I even
made a new friend!"

Plankton's gaze remained
on the fidget toy, his thumb
flicking the switch back and
forth. "That's... nice," he
managed, his voice tight. Karen
could see the effort he was
making to engage.

Chip chattered away, not
noticing the strain in Plankton's
voice. "Her name's Luna, and she's
super cool! We're gonna be
pen pals!"

Plankton's gaze flicks up to
meet Karen's. She gave him an
encouraging smile, willing him to
find his place in the conversation.
"Cool," he murmured, his mind
racing to process the sudden
flood of information. "Pen pals."

Karen watched as Chip's
eyes searched Plankton's face,
his youthful innocence unable to
comprehend the gravity of the
situation. "Why don't you show
us if you've any pictures
you took?" she suggested,
trying to shift the focus.

Chip nodded, eagerly pulling out
his phone. He sat beside
Plankton, scrolling through the
photos, his excitement a stark
contrast to his father's
detached demeanor. Plankton's
eye flicked to the screen, his
heart racing at the thought
of impending touch.

Karen watched as Chip's
fingers hovered over a picture
of himself and Luna. "Look,
Dad," he said, holding out the
phone. Plankton blinked. "Oh
nice," he says.

But as Chip's hand reached
out to hug, Plankton's arm shot
up, his antennae quivering.
"Don't," he murmured, his voice
barely audible. "Don't touch me."
Chip's hand hovered in the
air, confusion clouding his
features. "But, Da-"

Karen stepped in quickly.
"It's ok," she whispered. "We're
all family."

new familycore lunacore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 12
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

But Plankton was too lost in
his rage to hear her. "Get
OUT!" he screamed, his antennae
thrashing. "I don't need Chip!"
The words were a knife in
Karen's, but she knew they
were not truly his own.

"Dad," Chip's voice was small,
his eyes wide with shock. "I didn't
mean to..."

But Plankton's anger was a
beast that had been unleashed,
his words cutting like a knife.
"I said get out!" he roared, his
body vibrating with rage.

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, looking for the man
he knew beneath the storm of
emotions. But all he saw was a
stranger, a creature of fear and
frustration. He took another
step back, his heart racing. "But
Dad," he whispered, his voice
barely audible. "I didn't do anything
wrong.."

Plankton's antennae stilled,
his breathing erratic. "You're
right," he murmured, his voice
deflating like a balloon. "You
haven't done anything wrong, in
fact, you're pretty perfect." The
words were laced with sarcasm, a
bitterness that made Karen's fists
clench. "After all, it's not like
you called me burdensome or
anything," he added, his voice
dripping with false sweetness.

Chip's eyes widened, the
impact of his father's words
hitting him like a slap. He
looked at Karen, his eyes
pleading for help, for
understanding. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "That's not
what I me-"

But Plankton's anger had
become a living entity in the
room, feeding off his fear and
frustration. "Oh, I'm sorry,"
he said, his voice thick with
sarcasm. "Did my little falling
accident hurt your precious wittle
feelings?" His antennae twitched,
his eye glinting with rage.

Chip took another step back,
his chin quivering. "But Dad,"
he protested, his voice shaking.
"I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't mean it,"
Plankton interrupted, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "You're
so innocent, so pure." His antennae
waved erratically. "But let me tell
you a secret, Chip. You see, there's
a wonderful thing called tact.
Maybe you should try it sometime!"

Chip felt his screen burn with
embarrassment, his eyes filling
with tears. "But Dad," he whispered,
his voice shaky. "I just wanted
to-"

"Oh, I know what you wanted,"
Plankton sneered, the sarcasm
dripping from his words like acid.
"You wanted to be the hero,
didn't you? The big strong
boy who saves his daddy from
his own brain!" His antennae
twitched erratically. "But let me
tell you something, Chip. You can't
fix this. You can't make it all
better with your toys and your
stupid questions. So why don't
we all just praise perfect little
Chip for trying, shall we.." The
words were a slap in the face, each
one hitting Chip harder than the
last.

Chip's eyes filled with tears,
his body trembling. "But Dad,"
he whispered, his voice
desperate. "I just want to help."
"Oh, how noble," Plankton said,
his voice thick with sarcasm.
"Want a medal?" His antennae
quivered with anger, his eye
glinting with spite.

"I just want to be with
you," Chip said, his voice
breaking. "To make you happy."
"Well, you're doing a fine job,"
Plankton said, his voice like
a whip. "Keep it up, Chip.
You're a regular miracle worker."
His words were barbed, each one
designed to cut deep.

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
desperate for some sign of the
love he knew was there. But
all he found was anger, a wall
so thick it was suffocating.
"Dad," he said, his voice
shaking. "I'm sor-"

"Don't," Plankton interrupted, his
voice cold. "Don't you dare say
you're sorry. You don't get to
feel sorry for me. You don't get
to pity me." His antennae
twitched with agitation. "You don't
even get to be upset about what
you said. Because it's all true,
isn't it?" His eye bore into
Chip's, his voice like ice. "I'm a
burden. That's all I am. That's all
I'll ever be."

Chip's breath hitched, the
weight of his father's words
crushing him. "Dad," he managed,
his voice a whisper. "That's not
what I-"

But Plankton talked over him,
his voice a sneer. "Oh, I see.
You're going to play the innocent
now, are you? Pretend like you didn't
just say I'm a burden?" His antennae
were a blur of movement, a silent
testament to his rage. "How
convenient."

Chip felt his world crumbling,
his heart shattering into a
thousand pieces. "But Dad," he
whispered, his voice shaking.
"I didn't-"

"Don't you dare lie to me,"
Plankton's voice was like a
knife, cutting through the air.

Chip felt the room close in, his
throat tight. "But Dad," he choked
out, "I didn't mean-"

"Oh, the poor little hero,"
Plankton said, his voice a mocking
whisper. "So misunderstood."
He rolled his eye dramatically.
"It's always about you, isn't it?"
The sarcasm was a knife twisting
in Karen, but she knew
it was the fear and pain speaking.

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his own brimming with tears. "But
Dad, I just want to help," he
whispered, his voice shaking.
"To make things right."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
gaze cold. "You want to make
things right?" he echoed, his
voice laced with condescension.
"How sweet! Why don't you go
play the hero somewhere else!"

Chip felt the sting of his
father's sarcasm, his eyes
welling up. "But I'm your son,"
he whispered, his voice
breaking. "I'm supposed to-"

"Oh, I know your role,"
Plankton said, his tone biting.
"The golden child, always
trying to fix things." His antennae
quivered with disdain. "Dad,"
Chip protests, "I just want
you to be happy."

Plankton's eye narrowed, his
face a mask of condescension.
"How sweet," he said, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "But you
see, Chip, happiness is a
concept lost to me. I'm just
a broken toy now, remember?"
He twirled the fidget toy in
his hand, his thumb moving
compulsively over the patterns.

Chip's cheeks flushed, his eyes
filling with tears. "But Dad,"
he whispered, "you're more than that."

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
face a contorted mask of
disdain. "Oh, really?" he said,
his voice thick with patronizing
sarcasm. "Enlighten me, oh great
and wise Chip. Tell me what I
am." He leaned back in his chair,
his antennae waving in the air
as if inviting a lecture from
his son.

Chip took a deep breath, trying
to keep his voice steady. "You're
my dad," he said, his eyes
shining with unshed tears. "And
you're... you're still you, even if
you're a little different now."

But Plankton's sarcasm was
a shield he couldn't penetrate.
"Ah, yes," he said, his voice
dripping with mockery. "The
ever-elusive 'you're still you'
argument. How original." His
antennas twitched in disdain.

"You don't get it," Chip's voice
was desperate, his eyes
pleading. "I don't care if
you're different. I just want
you to be happy."

But Plankton's anger had
become a shield, his words a
barbed wire fence keeping his
son at bay. "Oh, you don't
care?" he said, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "How
magnanimous of you." His antennae
twitched in a mock salute. "Well,
let me tell you something,
Chip. You can't just ignore
the fact that your perfect
little world has been shaken
up, can you?"

Chip felt the sting of his
father's patronizing tone, his
eyes burning with unshed tears.
"But Dad," he said, his voice
quivering. "I just want to-"

"Oh, I know what you want,"
Plankton interrupted, his voice
dripping with condescension.
"You want the perfect little
storybook ending where we all
hold hands and skip off into the
sunset." His antennae waved in
the air dramatically. "But life
doesn't work that way, Chip.
Sometimes, bad things happen to
good people, and there's no
magical cure for it." His eye
was cold, his antennae stilled.
"So save your pity for someone
wh-"

Karen stepped in, her voice
calm and firm. "Plankton, that's
enough." She knew his words
were a defense, a way to push
away the pain. "Chip's just
trying to help."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
breath hitching. He looked at
his wife, his anger momentarily
fading. "I know," he murmured.
"But I don't want his pity."

Karen's gaze was filled with
understanding. "It's not pity,
Plankton," she said, her voice
soothing. "It's love."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
expression softening slightly.
"But what good is love when I can't
eve-"

"Love is more than just
touch," Karen interrupted, her
voice gentle. "It's understanding,
it's patience, it's being here
for you." She took another step
towards him, her hand outstretched.
"It's about connecting in
other ways."

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
eye flicking to her hand and then
back to her face. He knew she was
right, but the fear was a beast
that ruled him. "But I don't
know how to," he murmured, his
voice barely audible. "How do
I connect without... without
the things I used to do?"

Karen ached, her hand
still extended. "We'll find a
way," she assured him, her voice
steady. "Together."

new familycore emotionalcore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 13
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

Plankton's antennae drooped, his
eye focusing on the fidget toy
in his hand. It was a silent
testament to his internal
turmoil, his mind racing with
thoughts and fears. He knew Karen
was right, that love didn't need
to be physical, but the concept
was still so alien to him, so
difficult to grasp in his current
state. "I'm trying," he murmured,
his voice tight. "But it's just..."

Karen's hand reached out to
cover his, her touch gentle. "We
all are," she said, her voice
soothing. "And that's all we can
do." Her gaze was filled with
understanding, her eyes speaking
volumes without a single word.
"We're all just trying to
navigate this new world,
together."

Chip watched his parents. He knew
his father was struggling, but he
also knew that love didn't have to
be about touch. He took a step
forward, his hand hovering..

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his eye wide with fear. Karen
quickly intervened, placing a
hand on Chip's shoulder. "Not
now," she whispered, her screen
meeting her son's. "Let's give
Dad some space."

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's, the
desire to connect with his
father a palpable force. But
Plankton's reaction was a stark
reminder of the invisible barriers
his injury had erected, the
sensory minefield that surrounded
him. The room was thick with
silence, the only sound the
steady tick of the clock on the
wall.

Karen's hand remained on
Plankton's, her touch a gentle
reminder of her presence. "It's
ok," she murmured, her voice
soft. "We're all learning
together."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye meeting hers with a glimmer
of hope. "I know," he said, his
voice tight. "But it's so hard."
The words were a confession,
his vulnerability laid bare.

Karen ached, her grip
on his hand firm. "I know," she
said, her voice understanding.
"But we'll get through this.
Together."

Chip took a deep breath, his
eyes still locked on his father's.
He knew that his dad's reactions
were not personal, that his
brain was just trying to make
sense of the world in a way
that was different now. He
forced a small smile, his voice
steady. "We're here for you, Da-"
But Plankton's antennae shot
up, his body stiffening. "Don't,"
he murmured, his voice tight.
"Just... don't."

Karen stepped in, her voice
calm and firm. "Plankton," she
said, her eyes never leaving
his. "Chip's just trying to
tell you that he loves you."
Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye flicking to his son and
back to Karen. The words hung
in the air, a bridge between
his old life and his new reality.
He knew his son was trying,
but the fear was a thick fog
that clouded his mind, making
it difficult to see the love
beyond the barrier of his own
emotions.

Chip knew his father was in
pain, and his words had only
added to it. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "I don't
want you to feel li—"

"Don't," Plankton interrupted,
his antennae drooping. "I know
what you're trying to do."
His voice was a mix of
fatigue and frustration. "But it's
not that simple."

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, the depth of his pain
mirrored in the tremble of his
chin. "But Dad," he said, his
voice shaking. "I just want to
make you happ..."

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his body stiffening like a board.
"Don't," he murmured, his voice
strained. "I don't want your pity."
The words were a warning, a
reminder that his love was not
conditional on his ability to
function in the traditional sense.

Karen's gaze remained
steadfast on her husband's face,
seeing the raw pain beneath
the anger. She knew his
frustration was a shield, a way
to protect himself from the
overwhelming sensory assault that
his brain was still trying to
comprehend. "It's getting late,"
she said. "Let's all get to bed."
Plankton's antennae drooped, his
body slumping in defeat. He
was tired, so tired of fighting, of
trying to make sense of this new
world of sensory overload and fear.
He nodded, his voice a whisper.
"Ok." The silence that followed
was heavy, filled with the
unspoken words that hung in the
air like a thick fog. As they
made their way to their separate
rooms, the weight of the evening's
interaction settled on Chip's
shoulders. He knew his father's
reaction wasn't personal, but it
was hard not to take it that way.
He lay in bed, his mind racing
with thoughts of his dad, his
heart heavy with the knowledge
that their relationship was
forever changed.

The next morning, Chip awoke
and went to his parents room.

The door was open, the light
filtered through the blinds. Plankton
was sitting on the edge of the bed,
his antennae drooped low. He looked
up as Chip entered, his eye
wary, as if expecting another
onslaught of emotions he couldn't
comprehend. Chip paused.
He knew he had to tread carefully,
his father's sensory issues a
delicate dance they were all still
learning. "Hey," he said, his
voice soft. "How are you?"
Plankton's antennae twitched, a
sign of his internal struggle.
He took a deep breath, his eye
flicking to the fidget toy
resting on the bedside table.
"I'm... ok," he murmured, his
voice tentative. "Just tired."

Chip took a step closer, his
movements deliberate and slow. "Do
you want to talk?" he asked, his
tone gentle.

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
expression a mix of fatigue and
frustration. "Talking doesn't change
anything," he said, his voice
flat. "But if it makes you feel
better..." His eye met Chip's, the
unspoken challenge clear.

Chip took a deep breath,
his mind racing. He knew his dad
was in pain, knew that he needed
to be patient. He sat down on
the bed, his movements careful.
"It's not about making me feel
better," he said. "It's about...
understanding."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye focusing on Chip. For a
moment, the anger and fear
receded, replaced by a hint of
curiosity. "Understanding what?"
his voice was gruff, but there
was a crack in the armor, a
glimpse of the man he used to be.

Chip took a deep breath, his
heart racing. "Understanding...
how to be there for you," he
said, his voice earnest. "How to
love you in a way that doesn't...
hurt." He swallowed hard, his
throat tight. "I know it's different
now, but I still want to be your
son."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
eye flicking to the floor. He
was quiet for a long moment,
his thoughts racing. He knew Chip
meant well, but the concept of
nonverbal love was so foreign
to him. "I know you do," he
murmured, his voice tight. "But it's
not your job to fix me." "I don't want to
fix you, Dad," he said, his voice
shaking. "I just want to be with
you." He reached out tentatively,
his hand hovering over the
fidget toy. "Can I?"

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
eye wide with fear. "No," he said,
his voice sharp. "Don't touch it."
He knew the toy was a lifeline, a
way to ground himself in a world
that felt like it was spinning
out of control. But he also knew
his son meant well.

Chip's hand retreated, his eyes
filling with tears. "I'm sorry,"
he whispered. "I just want to...
connect."

Plankton's antennae drooped, his
eye closing briefly. He knew his
son's intentions were pure, but
his own fear was a cage he couldn't
seem to escape. "I know," he said,
his voice softer. "But it's not that
simple."

Chip felt his chest tighten, his
desire to help his father a physical
ache. "But there must be a way,"
he said. "We'll find it."

Plankton's antennae quivered, a
tiny spark of hope igniting in
his eye. "Maybe," he murmured,
his voice tentative. "But you have
to be patient." He picked up the
fidget toy, his thumb tracing
the patterns.

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving his father's. "I can
do that," he said, his voice
determined. "I'll do whatever it
takes."

 Plankton's antennae twitched, a
tiny glimmer of appreciation in
his eye. "Thank you," he murmured.
The words were a lifeline, a
connection in the storm of his
emotions. "But you have to
understand," he continued, his
voice strained. "Sometimes, I just
need to be left alone."

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving his father's. "I get it,"
he said. "But I'll always be
here when you're ready."

new familycore emotionalcore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 14
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

Karen's voice was gentle
but firm. "Plankton," she
said. "Chip's right. We'll
find a way to connect that
works for all of us. We just
have to keep trying. Why don't
we all go drive to the new
sensory park they just opened?"
It was a place designed for
those with sensory processing
disorders, with areas that catered
to different sensory needs. "It's a
bit of a drive across town, but
do you wanna try going?" They
both nodded.

They parked the car. "Let's 
go slow, ok?" Plankton nodded. 
They approached the sensory
garden, a place designed to be
calming. The scent of lavender
was thick in the air, and the
soft crunch of gravel beneath
their feet was a comforting
contrast to the harshness of the
city.

As they walked through the
gates, Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye scanning the area. 
The sensory park was a
symphony of soft colors and
soothing sounds, designed to
minimize the overstimulation that
so often triggered his seizures. "This
is nice," he murmured.

Chip watched his father, his
heart in his throat. He knew
how much this meant to him,
how much Plankton was struggling.
"It is," he said, his voice
matching his dad's quiet tone.
He took a deep breath, his
sensors tuned to his father's
every movement. "Do you want to go
on the swings?"

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
eye flicking to the swing.
He nodded slowly.

Chip led the way, his
movements cautious. He knew
his dad needed space, needed to
feel safe. They approached the
swing set, a simple metal frame
with plastic seats. Plankton
closed his eye, the rhythm
familiar and comforting as 
he swings.

Chip took the swing 
next to Plankton, his 
movements tentative. 
He knew his father's 
fear of touch was a 
battleground, and he 
didn't want to cross 
any lines.

The squeak of the
chains and the gentle
breeze through the leaves
of the nearby trees were
the only sounds that 
accompanied them as
they swung back and 
forth, side by side.

Chip watched his father. He
wanted so badly to reach
out, to hold Plankton's
hand, but he knew the
boundaries. Instead, he
focused on matching his
swing to Plankton's, their
motion in sync. He hoped
the rhythm would be a
comfort to his dad, a
small piece of the connection
they used to share.

As they swung, the tension
slowly began to ease from
Plankton's antennae. The
back-and-forth movement
was soothing, a gentle rocking.

After a while, they got off
the swings.

Plankton's antennae were still
twitching with the residual
energy of the movement, his
body craving the sensory input
that had become so rare. Chip
noticed and searched the park for
a suitable activity. His eyes
lit upon the sandbox. "How
about playing in the sand?"
he suggested, his voice hopeful.
Plankton's antennae quivered
with interest, his eye lighting
up slightly. He had always
enjoyed the feel of sand
between his... well, the
equivalent of fingers. Karen
smiled, seeing the potential
for a positive interaction.

They approached the sandbox,
the fine grains glinting in the
sunlight. Chip took a seat on
the wooden bench beside it,
watching as Plankton tentatively
placed his hand into the cool
sand. His antennae quivered with
pleasure at the sensation, his
body relaxing slightly. Chip
followed suit, his movements
deliberately slow and cautious,
mirroring his father's. He
knew that sudden movements or
touch could send Plankton spiraling,
so he remained still, his eyes
on the sand.

Together, they began to
sculpt the sand, their hands moving
in harmony without any need
for words. The gentle scrape
of the grains against their
hands was a soothing balm, a
silent conversation that
transcended the barriers of
language and injury. Plankton's
fears and anger from the night
before seemed to melt away with
each mound of sand that took shape.
Chip watched his father, his
heart swelling with hope. He had
found a way to connect, a
sensory experience that didn't
overwhelm Plankton. As they
played, he noticed his father's
breathing slow, his antennae
relaxing slightly. It was a
small victory, but it felt like a
huge step in the right direction.

The sun grew higher in the
sky, casting warm rays down
on the sandbox. Karen sat
beside them, her eyes filled with
gratitude for this moment of
peace.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly as he focused on the
sand, his movements precise. Chip
watched, mimicking his father's
careful touch. The sand was a
bridge between them, a shared
experience that didn't require
words. They built sandcastles
together, their hands working
in harmony despite the unspoken
fear that hung in the air.

Chip felt a weight lift from
his shoulders as he saw Plankton's
eye light up with each new
creation. The sand was a
therapy in itself, a gentle
reminder that love didn't need
to be loud or physical to be
felt. They built a sandcastle
together, their silent
companionship a balm to the
wounds of the previous night.

After a while, they 
finished. "Want to
try something else?" Chip
asked, his voice soft.
Plankton's antennae quivered,
his eye flicking to the nearby
beach ball. "Maybe a
game of catch?" Plankton 
suggested, his voice tentative.
Chip nods. He knew
his dad's fear of the 
unexpected, so he rolled it
gently to him.

Plankton caught the
ball. He tossed
it back to Chip, his eye
watching the arc of its
flight with a hint of 
excitement.
Chip's throw was
careful, underarm, 
keeping it within
Plankton's visual
comfort zone. He knew
his dad's limits,
his fear of fast
movements.

Plankton's antennae
twitched as he caught
the ball again. The
sensation of the cool,
smooth plastic was a
comfort in his hands.
He threw it back to Chip,
his movements calculated,
his mind focused on the
game. It was a simple
activity, but it was one
where he felt in control.
Chip watched his father, his
movements mirrored. He knew
his dad's fear of the
unexpected, so he
threw the ball with a gentle
underhand toss, keeping it
slow and predictable. Plankton
smiled slightly, his eye
tracking the ball's
trajectory.

Later, Karen told them it's
time to go, to start the drive
back home. She got in the
driver's seat as Plankton and
Chip sat in the back together.

Chip's eyes were on his dad,
his heart racing with
excitement. The car's
movement was a gentle rocking,
akin to the swing. Plankton watched
the world pass by. The
sensation of the car's vibrations
was soothing.

Karen glanced in the rearview
mirror, her eyes searching for any
sign of distress. But Plankton was
calm, his antennae still. The drive
was a quiet reprieve, a chance for
them to process the newness
of their relationship. Chip knew that
his dad's sensory issues made
the world a minefield, but in this
moment, the steady hum of the
car was a comfort.

As Karen drove, Plankton's
eyelid began to droop, his 
antennae slowing.

The gentle vibration of the
car and the predictable rhythm
of the road was a balm. He
leaned back, his head resting
against the seat, his hand 
clutching the fidget toy.
Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, his eye
half-closed, head dropping.
Chip felt his heart swell
as Plankton's head slowly
dropped onto his shoulder.
And as Plankton starts to
snore gently, Chip realized
his dad had fallen asleep,
his head resting heavily on
his shoulder. He stiffened for a
moment, fearing that any
sudden movement might
wake his father, might
disrupt the fragile peace
they had found. But Plankton's
snores grew deeper, the tension
leaving his body.

Karen glanced in 
the rearview
mirror. "It's ok,"
she murmured. 
"You're doing a
good job."

Chip felt his muscles
relax slightly, the weight of
his father's head a comfort.
He knew that this moment
was precious, a sign that
his efforts were not in vain.
He leaned into the warmth of
his dad's body, his hand
finding its way to the fidget
toy. His thumb traced the
patterns, mimicking the
rhythm that Plankton had
found soothing. Chip then
decides to take a selfie. He
holds up his phone after looking
at his dad, who started to drool
at the corner of his open mouth.
He chuckles quietly, snapping the
photo as Plankton remains asleep.

Chip posts the picture with
adding this caption:
"Went to the park with my
dad @ Sheldon Plankton
today 💙👨‍👦💨 "

Plankton still
snored softly against Chip's
shoulder. Chip noticed more
drool escaping the corner
of his mouth and felt a
surge of affection mixed with
concern. "Mom, he's drooling,"
he whispered to Karen, his voice
barely audible over the car's
hum. Karen chuckled, her eyes
meeting Chip's in the mirror.
"It's ok," she said softly.
"It's a sign of his tiredness.
Let him sleep."

new familycore emotionalcore brain chip

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 24
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ 
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ 
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. 
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ 
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ 
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ 
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ

"I've had enough of 
this!" Vickie snaps.
"He's just a burden. 
Look at him, he can't 
eve-"

Chip's fist hits the desk
with a loud smack, cutting
Vickie's words off. His eyes
blaze with a fiery determination.
"That's my dad you're talking
about!" he says, his voice
shaking with anger. The room
stills, the tension thick.
"And he's not a burden!"

Vickie's face contorts in shock.
Karen's eyes are proud,
but filled with fear. She
watches as Chip's shoulders
square, his voice strong and firm.
"I'm not leaving without this,"
he declares, his jaw set. "And if
you want him hurt, you'll
have to kick me out too."

Nurse Vickie looks at
him. "Oh you've done
nothing wrong, sweet..."

But Chip doesn't care,
his mind racing. "I have!"
he says, his voice rising.
"I'm the one causing
trouble!" He glares at her,
his fists clenched. "I'm the
problem, not him!" He throws
his backpack at the wall.

The room echoes with
the sound of books hitting
the floor, the clatter of his
defiance. "Now, are you
going to kick me out
or keep hurting him?"
Vickie's eyes narrow,
suspicion growing. "What
are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing," Chip says,
his voice shaking. "If you
want a problem, I'll give you
one. Just leave him alone."
He kicks over a chair,
his heart racing. He's fighting for his
father, for the right to be
understood.

Vickie's eyes narrow, her
mouth a thin line. "Young man,"
she says, her voice stern. "You
need to calm down." But Chip's
not calming down. He's just
getting started.

"You think you know him?"
he challenges her, his eyes
filled with a passion that's
been building for too long. "You
think you know what it's like to live
with autism?" His voice echoes
through the small office.

Vickie takes a step back,
her hands on her hips. "I know
what's best for this school,"
she says firmly, her eyes cold.
But Chip's not backing down.
"You don't know anything,"
he says, his voice shaking.
"You don't know what it's like to
have a meltdown, to need space."
He slams his fist into the desk
again, the sound ringing out
like a declaration of war. "You don't
know what it's like to be him!"

The room is silent, the
weight of his words hanging
heavy in the air. Karen's heart
swells with pride, but her
stomach is in knots. "Chip,
please..." she says, but he's
not listening. He's fighting a
battle she wishes he never had
to face.

Vickie's expression flickers
between annoyance and confusion.
"Young man, if you don't calm
down, I will be forced to
call the principal," she says.
But Chip just shakes his head,
his eyes never leaving hers.
"Then do it," he challenges.
"Call the principal. Tell
them to kick me out. Tell them
to leave my dad alone. I don't
wanna attend a school where
my dad isn't respected." His voice
cracks, the tears he's been
fighting spilling over.

Karen's hand is on his shoulder,
trying to calm him, but Chip's
determination is a force to
be reckoned with. "Chip, sweetie,
you don't have to do this," she whispers.
But he shrugs her off.

"I do," he says, his voice
steady despite the tremble in
his chest. "I won't let anyone
hurt him like this again." His
eyes are wet, but his stance is firm.
"I'd rather be kicked out than
see him suffer. I've made mistakes,
but he's not a mistake. He only got
sick because his needs weren't
respected. Now, let us all go."

Vickie's face reddens, her
patience wearing thin. "Fine,"
she says through gritted teeth.
"I'll call the principal. You're
both coming with me." She grabs
Plankton's arm, ignoring his
flinch. Karen and Hanna follow
Chip as he trails behind Vickie.

The walk to the principal's
office feels like a march to the
gallows. Plankton's body is tight
with tension, his antennae
twitching with every step. Chip's
heart races, his mind a tornado
of fear and anger. He can't believe
he's doing this, but he's seen
his dad suffer enough.

The principal greets them all.
"Nurse Vickie, and Chip; hello!"

But Chip's face is a mask of
determined anger, his eyes
fixed on the woman who had
caused his father so much pain.
"My dad's in trouble
because he's different, 
and she won't let him be!"
He points an accusing 
finger at Vickie,
his words a declaration.
The principal's eyebrows shoot up,
his screen a picture of surprise.
"What seems to be the trouble?"
his voice calm, his eyes
quickly assessing the situation.

Vickie starts to explain,
her voice a river of accusations.
"He's a disruption, he's..."
But Chip cuts her off,
his voice a knife. "I'm
the disruption!" he says.
"I'm the one who threw the chair,
I'm the one who yelled.
My father's condition is not
a disruption. It's a part of who
he is." He turns to Vickie.
"I'd appreciate it if you could
be more understanding."

The principal's eyes flicker between
Chip and Vickie, his expression
neutral. "Chip, I understand
you're upset. But throwing
chairs and yelling is not
the way to express yourself."
He pauses, looking at Plankton
huddled in the corner. "But I also
see that something has happened
here that we need to address."

Vickie's grip on Plankton's arm
loosens, her face a mask of
defensiveness. "The father 
was just being difficult, and
was acting strangely."

The principal's gaze sharpens.
"Difficult? Strangely?" he
repeats, his eyes drilling
into hers. "Care to elaborate?"

Vickie stammers, her
confidence waning. "He was
rocking back and forth, and...
his antennae... they... I don't
know, just..." She trails
off, unsure of herself.

The principal's gaze
remains on her, his patience
thinning like a wavering thread.
"I see," he says, his voice calm.
He turns to Plankton, his
expression gentle. "Is that right?"

Plankton's antennae quiver,
his body a taut wire of
nervous energy. "No," he says,
his voice a croak. "It's... it's just me."
He can't meet the principal's gaze,
his eyes darting to the floor.
"I... I just need..."

But Chip's voice cuts through
the silence like a sword,
his words a shield for his
father. "It's not his fault,"
he says firmly. "Autisticaphobia
exists in this school.
It's not his behavior that's
the issue, it's the lack
of understanding and empathy."

The principal's eyes narrow,
his gaze on Vickie, who
shifts uncomfortably under the
weight of accusation. "Is this true?"
he asks her, his voice calm but
his eyes like steel.

Vickie opens her mouth, but
no words come out. She looks
from Plankton, huddled in the
corner, to Chip, standing tall
and furious. "I was just trying
to calm everyone," she says weakly.

The principal's gaze never wavers
from her. "What happened in
my office, Nurse Vickie, is not
calming. It's discrimination."
His voice is low, but it resonates
like a thunderclap. "Your job
is to support our students and
their families, not to make them 
feel less than."

Vickie's cheeks burn with
shame, her eyes downcast.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I 
didn't mean..."

But Chip's voice is a wall,
his words unyielding. "It's not
about what you meant," he says.
"It's about what you did." His
eyes are on the principal,
his stance unwavering. "He's
my dad, and I'll do anything
to protect him."

The principal's face is
still, his eyes thoughtful. "Chip,
you need to understand that
this isn't the way to handle
things," he says, his tone measured.
"But I also appreciate your
concern for your father." He looks
at Vickie, his gaze stern.

Vickie's eyes dart around
the room, her discomfort palpable.
"I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice
small. "I didn't know..."

The principal's gaze is
steady, his voice firm. "Ignorance
is no excuse," he says. "We will
have a training session for
all staff on autism awareness,
and we'll make sure everyone
understands neurodiverse needs."
He turns to Plankton, who's
still huddled in the corner.

"Mr. Plankton, I'm sorry for
any discomfort you've felt here
today," he says, his tone
soothing. "Your son has made
it clear that your needs are
important, and we will respect
them." He glances at Vickie.
"This won't happen again."

Chip's chest loosens, his breaths
coming easier. He's done it.
He's protected his father.

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye flickers up to Chip's.
There's something in them,
something new. Recognition?
Pride? Chip isn't sure, but
his heart swells with hope.
Slowly, tentatively, Plankton
moves towards him, his
tiny body shaking with
the effort of controlling
his overwhelmed senses. Chip
holds his breath, his eyes
on his father.

Karen watches the scene with a
mixture of pride and sorrow as
Plankton's arms extend, a silent
offering of love and comfort.
Chip's heart races, his eyes
wide. He's never seen his dad
want to hug him before. But
his instincts kick in, the days
of learning about autism
guiding his actions. He steps
forward, his own arms wrapping
around Plankton's shoulders.
Their embrace is tight, a
physical manifestation of the
bridge they're building. Chip
can feel Plankton's heart racing
against his chest, his antennae
twitching slightly. But it's not
with fear or panic, it's with
a love so pure it's overwhelming.
He squeezes his dad tighter,
his eyes closing as he whispers,
"I've got you."



 

new familycore autism and all schoolcancelationcore chipcore

Why Privacy Matters
For teens, having a space to call their own is key to feeling safe and respected. Losing a bedroom door, especially as a punishment, can feel like losing a big chunk of personal dignity. It’s more than just a door—it’s about having a safe spot to chill, change clothes, or just be alone with your thoughts.

What’s Legal vs. What’s Right
So taking off a bedroom door might not break any laws, but that doesn’t mean it’s the best move for the kids. It’s a grey area, legally speaking, but when it comes to what’s best for the teens, it’s pretty clear that this kind of punishment might be missing the mark.

jared555
•5y ago
Not having a door on your bedroom would likely be considered a safety hazard by most fire departments. The departments near me occasionally post videos on Facebook recommending sleeping with your bedroom door shut.


If your parents remove your door, calmly but firmly express your need for privacy and discuss the situation with them, potentially seeking mediation or outside help if necessary. 
Here's a more detailed breakdown of what to do:
1. Understand the Reason:
Ask for Explanation: Calmly and respectfully ask your parents why they removed the door and what they hope to achieve.
Listen to Their Perspective: Try to understand their reasoning, even if you don't agree with it. 
2. Express Your Needs and Concerns:
State Your Need for Privacy:
Explain that you need a space where you can be alone and have privacy for things like dressing, showering, and studying.
Point Out Potential Problems:
Explain that removing the door can lead to feelings of discomfort, vulnerability, and a lack of personal space.
Consider the Impact:
Discuss how this situation might affect your ability to function and your overall well-being. 
3. Seek Mediation or Outside Help:
Talk to a Counselor or Therapist:
If you're unable to resolve the issue with your parents, consider seeking professional guidance from a counselor or therapist. 
Involve a Trusted Adult:
If you feel comfortable, talk to a trusted teacher, family friend, or other adult who can help mediate the situation. 
Contact Child Protective Services (CPS):
If you feel your safety or well-being is at risk, or if you believe your parents are neglecting your needs, contact CPS. 
4. Consider Your Actions:
Don't React Emotionally: Avoid yelling, slamming doors, or engaging in other destructive behaviors. 
Find Alternatives: Explore ways to create privacy within your room, such as using curtains, screens, or rearranging furniture. 
Document Everything: Keep a record of the conversations you have with your parents and any incidents that occur. 
⣞⢽⢪⢣⢣⢣⢫⡺⡵⣝⡮⣗⢷⢽⢽⢽⣮⡷⡽⣜⣜⢮⢺⣜⢷⢽⢝⡽⣝ ⠸⡸⠜⠕⠕⠁⢁⢇⢏⢽⢺⣪⡳⡝⣎⣏⢯⢞⡿⣟⣷⣳⢯⡷⣽⢽⢯⣳⣫⠇ ⠀⠀⢀⢀⢄⢬⢪⡪⡎⣆⡈⠚⠜⠕⠇⠗⠝⢕⢯⢫⣞⣯⣿⣻⡽⣏⢗⣗⠏⠀ ⠀⠪⡪⡪⣪⢪⢺⢸⢢⢓⢆⢤⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢊⢞⡾⣿⡯⣏⢮⠷⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠊⠆⡃⠕⢕⢇⢇⢇⢇⢇⢏⢎⢎⢆⢄⠀⢑⣽⣿⢝⠲⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠂⠠⠀⡇⢇⠕⢈⣀⠀⠁⠡⠣⡣⡫⣂⣿⠯⢪⠰⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡦⡙⡂⢀⢤⢣⠣⡈⣾⡃⠠⠄⠀⡄⢱⣌⣶⢏⢊⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢝⡲⣜⡮⡏⢎⢌⢂⠙⠢⠐⢀⢘⢵⣽⣿⡿⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⣺⡺⡕⡕⡱⡑⡆⡕⡅⡕⡜⡼⢽⡻⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣳⣫⣾⣵⣗⡵⡱⡡⢣⢑⢕⢜⢕⡝⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⡽⡑⢌⠪⡢⡣⣣⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡟⡾⣿⢿⢿⢵⣽⣾⣼⣘⢸⢸⣞⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠇⠡⠩⡫⢿⣝⡻⡮⣒⢽⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀

new familycore spacecore doors dot art text art ascii art

r/shortscarystories
1 day ago
CBenson1273

My Aunt Tried To Protect Me From My Mother
My childhood was a nightmare. My mother hated me and took every chance to show it. Nothing I ever did was good enough. ‘B’s on report cards were because I was stupid. Unfinished chores were because I was lazy. Any beatings I got were because I deserved them. And my father was just as bad.

Fortunately, her sister was my refuge. When things got too bad, I could go over there to escape for a day or two. Perhaps that was why my mother didn’t like Aunt Lisa. The feeling was mutual.

So I was surprised when my aunt told me she’d invited my parents over for tea tomorrow.

“Why would you invite them here? The whole reason I come here is to get away from them!!”

“I know,” she replied. “But that all ends tomorrow. I’m going to have a talk with them; they aren’t going to mistreat you anymore.”

I knew in my heart they’d never change, but she was determined to try.

The next day, I sat in the corner as my parents entered.

“There you are, you wretched child,” my mother said. “Come home this instant and stop causing trouble!”

“Now, now, Lydia,” replied my Aunt. “That behavior is exactly why I called you over today. It’s quite enough.”

“HOW DARE YOU TELL ME HOW TO RAIS—!”

“Do calm down, Lydia. All that screaming isn’t good for your blood pressure. What’s say we all relax, have a nice cup of tea, and discuss this like adults?”

My mother still looked furious, but she took the proffered cup and retook her seat.

“How you treat Annie isn’t right. It needs to stop.”

“You have no say in what I do in MY home. And whatever MY daughter gets, I can assure you it’s deserved.”

“So you aren’t open to change, then?”

“Absolutely not - that girl’s gotten exactly what she deserves.”

“Very well, then. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”

“Come to wh—“ my mother started when she suddenly began to foam at the mouth and grasp at her throat.

“Don’t mind that,” my Aunt said. “Just a bit of poison I placed in your cups. I was hoping you’d agree to change your ways, but clearly you never will. Goodbye, sister.”

After my parents had collapsed on the floor, I looked over at my aunt. “What did you do?”

“What needed to be done,” she replied.

“But what if they’d agreed to stop?”

“Then I’d have given them the antidote I was keeping in my purs—“

A look of shock crossed her face as her throat closed, replaced by panic as she rifled desperately through her purse.

“Looking for this?” I asked, holding up her syringe.

“But…. why?” my aunt asked as she collapsed.

“Remember all those times you saw my bruises and scars and sent me back there anyway?”

“But I loved you like a daughter,” she gasped with her final breath.

“Then you should’ve done better,” I said

new familycore unaliving reddit

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 11
by NeuroFabulous


Chip's eyes never left
his dad's face as he did
as his mom said. Plankton's
body remained still,
his breathing even. Karen
smiled. "See, that's it,"
she whispered. "It's all
about knowing when and
how to touch."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, but he remained
asleep. Chip watched him
closely, his curiosity
piqued. He wanted to
understand everything about
his dad's condition. "So,
what types of touch does
he not like?"

Karen thought for a
moment. "Sudden touches,
like taps or pokes, can be
startling for him," she
explained. "And hugs can be
overwhelming unless he's
ready for them. It's about
knowing his cues."

Chip nodded, his hand
still on Plankton's arm,
moving in the gentle strokes
his mom had taught him.
He felt a strange sense
of connection, like he was
learning a secret language
only they shared. "What
are his cues, like how do
you know when he needs a
hug or space?" he asked.

Karen leaned in closer,
her voice low. "Look at his
body language," she said.
"If he's leaning in, it might
mean he's okay with a
hug. But always ask first.
And if he says no, don't take
it personally. It's not about
you; it's about his comfort.
But if he's leaning away or
his antennae are moving
quickly, it's best to ask if
he needs some space."

Chip nodded, watching
his dad's antennae. They
were still, a sign of peace.
He felt a warmth spread
through him, knowing that
he was learning how to
make his dad feel safe and
loved. "I want to know
more," he whispered.

Karen's eyes searched
his, and she saw the
eagerness in his gaze.
"Okay," she said, her voice
calm. "What do you want
to know?"

Chip's mind raced with
questions, but he took a
deep breath to focus. "What
causes his seizures?"
he asked, his voice soft.

Karen looked at him,
her eyes filled with
compassion. "Sensory
overload," she said.
"It's like his brain gets
too much information at
once, and it can't process
it all. Sometimes it's just
too much, and his body
has a reaction."

Chip nodded, his
thumb still rubbing
his dad's hand in
soothing circles. 
"But how can I tell 
when he's about to 
have one?"

Karen squeezed Chip's
other hand gently. "Look
for changes in his 
behavior," she said.
"If he gets really
quiet, or if his stims
get more intense. And
his eye glazes over. If
you see any of that, just
offer him a gentle touch or
a quiet space to retreat to."

"Can you tell me how
he got his autism?" he
asked Karen, his voice
barely above a whisper.
He didn't want to wake
his dad, but he wanted
to learn.

Karen looked at him,
her eyes filled with
patience. "It was
acquired at birth. When
his own mother gave
birth to him, his head
was in a weird angle.
It's nothing anyone did 
or could've prevented."

Chip nodded, his
fingers still moving in
the gentle pattern on
his dad's arm. "So it's not
because of any-"

But his question was
interrupted by a soft
moan from Plankton. 
Chip's eyes widened,
his hand frozen 
mid-stroke.

Plankton's antennas
twitched, and his eye
flitted open. He looked
up at them. "Hi there,
sleepy head" Karen said
with a smile, her voice
barely above a whisper.
Plankton managed to
wave. "Hi," he said.

Chip's eyes lit up,
his fear from earlier
melted away by his dad's
small gesture. "Hi, Dad,"
he whispered, his hand
still on Plankton's arm.

Plankton's gaze searched
his son's face, his
expression a mix of
fatigue and love. He knew
Chip was still scared,
still confused. "I'm okay,"
he said.

Chip nodded, his eyes
filled with relief. He
wanted to ask more
questions, but he could
see his dad was tired.
"Okay," he said. "I'm
here for you."

Plankton's smile was
subtle, but it was there.
He reached out his hand
and gave Chip's a gentle
squeeze. It was his way
of saying 'thank you'.

Karen watched them,
her heart full. "Why don't
we let him rest?" she
suggested, her voice low.
"You can sit here and
read by him."

Chip nodded, his eyes
never leaving Plankton's
face. He picked up a
book and settled into
the bed with his dad.

Plankton's hand then
moved in a repetitive
motion against the
bedspread, a gentle
back-and-forth that
seemed to soothe him.
He started to murmur.
"Soft with the fabric,"
he whispered in the stim.

Chip watched him, his
curiosity growing. He
wanted to try it, but
wasn't sure if it was
appropriate. 

"Mom," he whispered.
"Can I do his stim with
hi-"

But before he could
finish his sentence,
Plankton's hand stilled
on the bedspread. "No
Chip," he said, his voice
steadier. "Do NOT."

Chip's eyes widened.
"But I just want to help,"
he protested, his voice
whispered.

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his eye closing
slightly. "It's personal,"
he murmured.

Chip felt his cheeks
heat up. "I'm sorry," he
whispers.

But Plankton's hand
was already moving 
again. "Fabrics," he
said, his voice still low.
"The texture i---"

But Chip interrupts, 
his hand tentatively
mimicking his dad's
motion. "Like this?"
he asks, disrupting
Plankton's stim.

Plankton's hand stops,
his antennas flinching
back. "No," he says, his
voice harsh. "It's mine."

Chip withdraws his hand
quickly, his eyes wide
with shock and apology.
"I'm sorry, Dad," he says,
his voice a whisper. "I just
wanted to help. But why
did you whisper to yourself
about the fabric? I--"

"CHIP," Plankton snaps.
"Didn't I tell you not to?"
his voice is firm, almost
angry. Chip's eyes
filled with sadness.

Karen quickly intervenes,
"Plankton, it's okay. Chip
was just trying to be
su—"

But Plankton's anger is
difficult to quell. His
body tenses, his antennae
twitching erratically.
"I-it's not for him," he
stammers out. "MINE!"

The room goes quiet,
the tension palpable. Chip
retreats slightly, his hand
still hovering in the
air where it had been
touching the fabric. "I-I'm
sorry, Da-"

But Plankton's eye shut tight.
"Chip," Karen says, her voice
even. "Remember what we
talked about. His stims are
not for us to take over or
interrupt. Just let him do
his thing."

Chip nods, his eyes
brimming with apology.
He watches as Plankton's
hand starts moving again.
He doesn't know what to say,
his mind racing with confusion.
He just wanted to be closer
to his dad, to understand him
better. But instead, he feels like
he's made things worse.

new my autistic dad learncore

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 29

"Daddy?" Chip asks,
his voice full of 
concern. "You ok?"

Plankton's hand moves.
"I don't wanna be 
touched," he says 
in annoyance. "Pain."
Chip's face falls, but
he understands. "Okay, 
Dad," he says, pulling
his hand back. "Do you 
want me to ge-"

"No," Plankton says, 
his voice firm. "I don't."
Karen nods, her eyes
knowing. "Remember, 
Plankton," she says gently. 
"You might be even more 
sensitive to touch 
right now because of 
the surgery. It's okay 
to tell us if something 
bothers you."

Chip nods, his 
expression solemn. 
They both know that 
Plankton's autism means 
senses can be overwhelmed
even on a good day. Now,
with his mouth sore from
the surgery, any touch 
could be agonizing.

Plankton takes a sip
of water, but does little
for the ache in his jaw. 
He leans back into the 
pillows, his eye
half-closed. Chip sits
on the bed by him.

"Dad," Chip starts, 
his voice tentative. "I'm
here for you." Plankton's
antennas twitch slightly.
"I know, buddy," he says,
voice strained. "Thanks."

Karen looks at Chip,
her eyes filled with
appreciation. "Why don't
you read to him?" She
suggests. "It might 
help distract him."

Chip nods, his mind
racing. What would
his dad want to hear?
He settles on a book 
about sci-fi, something
that usually interested 
him. He sits down by
Plankton on the bed.

He opens the book and 
begins to read, his voice 
low and steady. "Once
upon a time, there was 
a utopian world," he 
reads, his eyes glancing
at Plankton. His dad's 
antennas twitch slightly 
in response. Good, he's 
listening.

As Chip reads about
molecules and atoms,
Plankton's eye begins to
glaze over. The story 
is interesting, but the
pain in his mouth
makes it hard to focus.
He can feel his anxiety
start to rise, his chest
getting tighter.

Karen notices his
discomfort and touches
his hand lightly. "Honey,
are you okay?" She asks.
But then the doorbell 
rings, interrupting their 
moment. Chip jumps up, 
excited for a break. 
"I'll get it," he says, 
his voice hopeful. 
Karen nods, her gaze 
still on Plankton. Chip
finds Sandy at the door!

"Hi Chip," she says,
her smile wide. "I
thought I'd stay a bit,
keep y'all company
or whatnot." So she
follows Chip into his
parents bedroom.

Plankton's antennae
twitch at the sight of
Sandy. "Hi," he mumbles,
not really focusing. Karen
knew this look usually
meant an oncoming
absence seizure for him.

"You okay?" Sandy asks,
her eyes searching his.
Plankton doesn't respond.
Sure enough, Karen knew
an absence seizure's starting.

Still Sandy approaches, her
movements slow and
careful, not wanting to
overwhelm him. "Plankton?"

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, but he doesn't
react. His mind is 
somewhere else. Karen 
quickly explains, "It's okay,
Sandy. He's having an
absence seizure."

Sandy gasps, for she 
has never seen this 
before. "Oh no," she 
whispers, her eyes wide.
"It's okay Sandy," Karen
says, her voice calm. "It's
just a part of his autism."

Sandy looks at Karen,
her eyes questioning.
"An absence seizure?"
Sandy asks, her voice
quiet. Karen nods, her 
hands steady. "They're
harmless, but can be
disconcerting if you're
not used to them. They
can last anywhere from a
few seconds to a couple
of minutes, even a few
hours." They both sit on
his bed.

Plankton's antennae
twitch once more before
his body goes still. The
only sign he's alive is
his chest rising and
falling with his shallow
breaths. Sandy watches, 
concern etched on her 
face. "What can we do?"
she whispers to Karen.

Karen shakes her head, 
keeping her voice low.
"Just stay with him. 
Perhaps talk to him, but
don't touch unless he 
initiates. Keep it calm."

Sandy nods, taking a
deep breath. She sits 
on the edge of the bed, 
her eyes never leaving
Plankton's still form. "H-
hey, Plankton," she says 
softly, her voice trembling.
"It's me, Sandy. I came
to check on you."

Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's face, watching
closely for any sign 
of the seizure's end. She 
smiles gently at Sandy. 
"It's okay, sometimes he can
hear us. Just keep talking."

Sandy nods, her voice 
soft. "Plankton, I'm here,"
she says. "Your surgery 
was yesterday!" She smiles 
nervously, hoping to 
engage him. Plankton
remains motionless.

Karen squeezes his hand
gently. "You had a good
night's sleep," she says, 
continuing to talk to 
him as if he's just
daydreaming. "Your 
mouth will heal soon."

Sandy nods, her voice 
even softer. "Yeah, 
Plankton. And Chip
and I are gonna help 
you through this, okay?" 
Plankton's antennae
barely move. The 
seizure seems to be 
continuing. Karen 
sighs, her hand 
still in his.

Chip watches his dad
with a heavy heart. 
He wishes there was 
more he could do than 
just sit doing nothing. 
He glances at them, 
his eyes questioning.
Karen shakes her head, 
keeping her voice low.
"It's normal," she 
explains. "It's just his 
autism making it 
harder for him to deal 
with pain. He'll come
out of it in his own time."

"How might I know when 
it's over?" Sandy whispers.
Karen nods, her gaze
still on Plankton. "When 
his antennae move 
again, or when he blinks.
It's like he's just 
spaced out, but his brain's
not processing 
anything around him."

"How do you know if or
when he can hear us?" 
She asks, watching his chest 
rise and fall rhythmically.
Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's still form. "Sometimes,
during these seizures, 
he can still process what's
being said around him. It's like 
his brain's on pause, but 
the background's still playing.
It's why we keep talking."

"So what do we talk 
about?" She whispers. Karen 
smiles gently. "Just keep
it simple and calm. 
Talk about his favorite
things, or ask questions
that don't require an answer."
Sandy nods, taking a
deep breath.

"Plankton," she says 
softly. "You know, I
was thinking, going through
surgery can't be easy for 
anyone, but especially not
for someone with sensory 
issues like you." But still
Plankton doesn't budge.

But Sandy's still curious.
"Karen, why doesn't
he blink during these?"
Sandy whispers, her
eyes never leaving 
his face.

"It's a part of the 
seizure," Karen says 
quietly. "His body goes 
still, and his brain does
not send signals to 
blink or move. It's like
his body's frozen in 
time. Why don't you
try to keep his mind 
engaged?"

Sandy nods, leaning
closer. "Plankton," she 
whispers. "You know 
what I was thinking?" 
Her voice is soft, almost 
a sing-song. "We could 
have ice cream. What do 
you think?"

There's a pause. Then, a
tiny twitch in his antenna.
Karen smiles. It's working.

"Maybe mint chocolate chip,"
Sandy suggests, her voice
soothing. "Or would you
prefer vanilla?" "Villa,"
Plankton replies, a glimmer of
life returning to his eye.
Karen's smile widens. "Look,
he's coming back," she whispers.

Chip's eyes light up,
his voice eager. "Can we
have ice cream too?" Karen
nods. "Of course. But let's
wait until later."

Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly, but
his eye remained 
unblinking. So Sandy
tries again.

"What's your favorite 
flavor, Plankton?" She 
asks him, her voice 
barely above a whisper. 
This time, there's more
life in his antennae. They 
wave slightly. "Villa," 
he murmurs. Sandy nods.
"Okay, vanilla it is. Great!
We'll have a little 
celebration later with
your ice cream, okay?"

And then, finally, his 
eye blinks. "Welcome
back," Karen says, her 
voice a warm smile. 
Chip's face breaks into a
grin, and Sandy looks 
at him with a mix of
relief and curiosity.

Plankton looks around
a bit confused, seeing
Sandy sitting by him.
"S-Sandy?" He says, 
his voice weak. "How long
have you been here!"

Sandy smiles warmly, 
her eyes filled with 
relief. "Not long," she
says. "Just waited for
you to come back to us."
Plankton nods, his 
antennas drooping. 
"I-I must've had a seizure.."
Karen nods gently. "Yes,
you did," she confirms. 
"But it's over now, and
you're ok." She squeezes
his hand, her eyes full of
warmth and reassurance.

Sandy scoots beside
Plankton. "Back when
I was in Texas, I gotta
extra copy of a Texan
science book and just
knew you'd like to keep
it!" She pulls out a big
book. Plankton's eye lit
up. "Ooh, let's look at
the index!"

"What, why the index?"
Sandy asks. "It's just a
part of his autistic brain
that he always likes the
index." Karen interjects.
"Read the title and page
to him; it might help him
relax a bit."

Sandy nods, her voice
soft as she reads. "Alright,
Plankton. 'The Wonders of
Texas Mechanics'... page 32.
'Life in Texas'... page 110." Sandy
holds the book in front of them
as Plankton peers over by her
shoulder, following along.

Sandy continues on
reading. "Texan
Electricity... page 240.
Alien Technology... 
page 478. Unusual
Texas Phenomena...
page 520. New Texan
Inventions... page 600."

Sandy reads on. 
"Discoveries in Texas
Biology... page 780. The
Molecular Universe...
page 850. Li—" Sandy
is cut off by a soft snore.
Plankton's antennae had
stopped twitching and
his eye was now fully
closed. Sandy looks to
find his head resting
against her arm,
his mouth slightly open.

Karen smiles gently. "Looks
like he's out," she whispers.
Sandy nods, setting the
book down carefully. "I
think so," she whispers back.
"He must be exhausted.
And the pain probably wore 
him out."

They sit in quiet 
companionship. 
His snores are soft 
and rhythmic. Sandy's
arm is now around 
Plankton's shoulders, 
supporting him.

Chip looks at his 
mom and Sandy, a 
question in his 
eyes. Karen nods. "It's 
okay," she whispers. 
"Let him sleep. He 
needs rest."

Sandy nods with 
compassion. She gently 
shifts her arm around 
Plankton, making sure 
his head is comfortably
propped on her 
shoulder. Chip 
watches, feeling a mix
of awe and confusion.
He's never seen his 
dad trusting and relaxed.

Karen whispers, "Why
don't you go play, 
Chip? We'll keep an
eye on him." Chip 
nods, his eyes 
lingering on his 
father. He doesn't 
want to leave, but he 
understands that his 
dad needs peace.

new adaptable family wisdomtoothcore wisdomteethcore

𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 13
by NeuroFabulous


They enter the bed
room, where Plankton
still sat on his bed. He
had his box of sensory
items in front of him.

Karen approaches
carefully, her eyes
full of empathy.
"Plankton," she says,
sitting down next to him.
"Chip's just trying to
understand. He loves
you and wants to help."

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his eye still
firmly on his box.
Chip leans over and
sees various aids. Ear
phones, squishy balls,
fidget toys, stuffed
plushies, even a black
out curtain rod.

"Dad, what are these?"
he asks, his voice soft.
But Plankton's not quite
over his irritation. "Take
a picture, it'll last longer,"
he mumbles, hugging
the box as he turns away.

Karen puts a hand on
Chip's shoulder. "Those are
his sensory aids," she
explains, her voice calm.
"They help him when he's
feeling overwhelmed."

Chip looks up, his eyes
filled with curiosity. "Can
I se-"

"NO," Plankton snaps,
his voice sharp. Karen's
hand squeezes Chip's.
"Your dad considers 
these as his personal
space," she whispers. "But 
you can ask him to show
you how they work."

Chip nods, his eyes
still on the box. He
swallows his curiosity
and speaks up, "Dad, can
you show me whaa-"

But Plankton cuts him
off again. "I'll show
you when, IF, I'm ready," he
says, his voice still edgy.
"For now, just leave
me alone.."

Chip's eyes water, but
he nods. He understands
his dad needs space, yet
he's hurt that he can't just
help like he wants to.

Karen gives Chip a
squeeze. "It's okay,"
she whispers. "You're
learning."

Chip nods, his eyes
still on Plankton, who's
now breathing deeply, his
hands moving over the
items in his sensory box.

Karen watches the two
of them, her heart swelling
with love and understanding.
Plankton's autism isn't
easy, but she's dedicated
to making sure they all
navigate it together. She
reaches out to Plankton,
placing a gentle hand on
his shoulder. "We're here
for you," she says, her voice
soft.

Plankton's antennae twitch,
but he doesn't pull away.
He's still upset, but Karen's
presence is soothing. "I know,"
he murmurs, his hand
still moving through his
sensory box.

Chip watches, his eyes
filled with a mix of
longing and regret. He
wishes he could share
his dad's world, but he
knows that's not how it
works. Karen's hand on
Plankton's shoulder is a
reminder of the bond
they share, the silent
understanding that comes
with knowing someone so
intimately. And Chip wants
to be like his mom with
the ability to share.

Karen feels Plankton's
body relax slightly under
her touch. His breathing
becomes less ragged.
"Thank you," he whispers,
his voice low, almost lost.
"For what?" she asks,
stroking his arm gently.
"For being you," he says,
his antennae drooping. "For
understanding." Chip feels
a pang of longing, wanting
to be a part of this. Karen
notices his sadness and
gestures for him to come
over. "You're a part of
this, too, Chip," she says,
her voice soothing.

Chip sits on the edge of
the bed, his hand hovering
over Plankton's. Plankton
glances up, his eye
seeing the unshed tears.
"Chip's NOT a part of this."

Karen's voice is calm
and firm. "Plankton," she
says, her hand still on his
shoulder. "Chip is a part
of this family, and he's
trying to understand you.
We-"

"I don't need him to
understand," Plankton
interrupts, his voice
sharp. "I just need him
to leave me alone!"

Karen's gaze remains
steady, her voice calm.
"Plankton," she says firmly,
"You know Chip loves
you. He's just trying
to help." Chip nods, putting
a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah
Dad, I---"

But Plankton pulls away.
"Chip's not a part of this,"
he says. Chip's heart
drops, feeling the weight of
his father's words. He tries
to put his hand on his dad's
shoulder again, but Plankton 
flinches.

Plankton's hand suddenly
stops moving as his 
antennae spike in
overwhelm. He can't take 
it, can't take anymore.

"Chip, go," he whispers, his 
voice tight with the effort of
containing his agitation.
"Please.." Chip shakes his
head. "No, Dad; I'm NOT
leaving you."

Plankton's stims intensify,
his hands now flapping.
The room seems to spin
around him as he tries
to process the world in a
way that makes sense to his
overwhelmed brain.

Chip's heart aches, but he
wants to do something, to
help in some way, but he
doesn't know how.

Plankton's stims become
more frantic, his hands
now flapping at his sides.
His breathing is rapid, his
body tense.

Chip feels like he's intruding,
but he can't bring himself
to leave.

Karen watches, her heart
breaking for both of them.
She knows Plankton's stims
are his way of coping, yet
seeing Chip's pain is hard.
"Why don't you sit by him,"
she suggests. "But don't
touch unless he asks."
Chip nods, moving closer
to his dad, his eyes
following the erratic
movements.

Plankton's stims grow
more intense. His body
sways, his hands flap. His
eye closes tightly, his
mouth moving in silent
sounds that not even he
himself can understand.

Chip sits by his side
with concern, but he 
knows his dad needs him.

He watches Plankton's
stims closely, his heart 
swelling with love and
worry. He can see the
tension in his father's
body, the way he rocks 
back and forth slightly,
his hands moving in a
pattern. Chip tries to
mirror the movements, 
hoping to somehow share.

But Plankton's reaction
isn't what he expects. His
eye flies open, turning to
see Chip mimicking his
stims, his hands moving in
the same erratic pattern.

Plankton's antennae flinch,
his body stiffening. "STOP!"
he yells, his voice raw.
Chip's eyes are wide with
surprise, then fill with
determination. "But Dad,"
he says, his voice steady.
"I'm just trying to be
there for you."

Plankton's body language
doesn't soften. "You're not
getting it. This isn't a game
you can just play when
you feel like it. These are
mine. They're private."

Chip's eyes fill with
understanding. "I'm sorry,
Dad," he says. "I didn't mean
to make it seem like that."

But Plankton's not ready
to hear it. He turns away,
now suppressing his stims
with a grimace. But Chip
doesn't let up.

"I'm not playing games,
Dad," Chip says, his voice
quiet but firm. "I just am
making an effort to 
observe and connect."

But Plankton's anger
doesn't diminish. "You
can't connect with me
by playing copycat!"
he snaps, his voice
filled with pain. "You
don't get to—"

"Dad, I'm sorry," Chip
interrupts, his voice
trembling. "I just want
to be here for you."

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his body still
tense. "But you're not," he
whispers. "You're not like
me, Chip."

Chip's eyes water,
his voice trembling. "But
I want to be there for
yo--"

"NO," Plankton says, his
voice firm. "You can't be."
He turns away again.

Chip feels the sting of
his father's rejection, but
his resolve to support
doesn't waver. He takes a
deep breath. "Dad, I know
I'm not autistic, but I can
learn. I can be there for
you like Mom is, so just 
tell me—"

But Plankton's voice
interrupts him, "No,
Chip," he says, his tone
exasperated. "You can't just
learn to be there for me.
It's not something you can
just pick up. It's something
you either get or you don't.
And right now, you're not
getting it." His hands
clutch the bedspread.

new my autistic dad stimcore

DON’T 👏🏼 SAY 👏🏼 YOU 👏🏼 BELIEVE 👏🏼 IN 👏🏼 BIBLICAL 👏🏼 MARRIAGE 👏🏼 IF 👏🏼 YOU 👏🏼 DIDN’T 👏🏼 OFFER 👏🏼 THREE 👏🏼 GOATS 👏🏼 FOR 👏🏼 YOUR 👏🏼 WIFE

new 👏🏼 familycore christianity religion church christian goat

Drowning In Sorrow
I had a cousin who drowned when I was much younger. At the time, he was off at college, so nobody knew about it until the next day. His parents were taking care of his 2-year-old niece. The night he drowned, she woke up screaming in the night and would not go to sleep. She just kept pointing to a picture of him that was on the nightstand. His parents gave it to her, and she hugged it and wouldn't let go of it all night.

new drownedcore familycore factinate

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS x

(Autistic Author)


Karen's heart squeezes as she sees the 
vulnerability in her husband. She 
reaches out and takes Plankton's hand, 
giving it a comforting squeeze. "We're all 
learning here," she says. "And we'll keep 
figuring it out together." Then, Chip speaks 
up again, his voice a little stronger. 
"Daddy," he says, "I still want to show 
you affection."

Plankton looks up, his antennae 
twitching with a hint of sadness. "I know, 
buddy," he says. "And I appreciate that. 
But sometimes, my brain needs a 
different kind of love."

Chip frowns. "But I 
don't know how," he says.

Plankton's antennae wiggle as he thinks. 
"How about this?" he suggests, his eye 
brightening slightly. "You can make me a 
'love rock'."
Chip's eyes light up with excitement, and 
Karen nods encouragingly. 

"You can 
pick out a rock from the beach or the 
yard, and every time you feel like giving 
me a hug but know I might not be able 
to handle it, you can give me the rock 
instead. That way, I'll always know 
you're thinking of me."

Chip nods eagerly, already imagining the 
perfect rock in his mind. "I'll find the 
biggest, smoothest rock," he says, his 
eyes shining with purpose.

Plankton's antennae rise slightly, and he 
manages a smile. "That's my boy," he 
says, his voice a little less strained.

“I’ll go look in our backyard right now,” 
Chip says as he does so.

Karen watches him run off and looks at 
Plankton, her eyes filled with emotion. 
"You ok?" she asks, squeezing his hand.

Plankton nods, his antennae still. "I think 
so," he murmurs. "Thank you, Karen."

Karen squeezes his hand in return, her 
eyes filled with understanding. "You're 
doing great," she whispers.

As Chip rummages outside, the sound 
of his little feet pattering on the ground, 
Karen and Plankton sit in the quiet 
kitchen, the weight of their conversation 
still hanging in the air. Plankton's 
antennae droop slightly, but there's a 
newfound openness in his gaze.

"Do you think he'll understand?" 
Plankton asks, his voice still raw from 
the previous night's emotions.

Karen squeezes his hand, her eyes filled 
with warmth. "He's a smart kid," she 
reassures him. "And he loves you. He'll 
get it."

They sit in silence for a moment, 
listening to the distant sounds of Chip's 
exploration. Then, Plankton speaks up, 
his voice tentative. "What if I have 
another meltdown?" he asks.

Karen squeezes his hand, her gaze 
unwavering. "We'll be there for you," she 
says. "We'll help you through it."

The sound of the back door opening and 
closing echoes through the house, and 
Chip returns, holding a rock that fits 
perfectly in the palm of his hand. It's 
smooth, with a slight shimmer in the 
light. "Here it is!" he exclaims, holding it 
out to Plankton. "It's your love rock!"

Plankton's antennae lift, and a genuine 
smile spreads across his face as he 
takes the rock. "It's perfect," he says, his 
voice filled with emotion. He can feel the 
warmth from Chip's hand still lingering 
on the stone. "Thank you, buddy."

Chip beams, his earlier fears forgotten in 
the excitement of the moment. "Can we 
go to the park now?" he asks, hopeful.

Karen looks at Plankton, who nods 
wearily. "Sure," she says, pushing her 
chair back. "But let's take it slow, okay?"

The park is a familiar place, filled with 
the sounds of children's laughter and the 
distant hum of the city. As they walk, 
Chip chats away, his voice a balm to 
Plankton's nerves. Karen notices the 
subtle changes in her husband's gait, 
the way his antennae twitch with every 
new sound or sight. She knows he's 
trying hard to stay present, to not get 
overwhelmed by the sensory onslaught 
of the outside world.

When they reach the playground, Chip 
runs off to the swings, his love rock 
clutched tightly in his hand. Plankton 
watches him, his gaze a mix of pride 
and concern. He knows his son's energy 
can be too much for him sometimes, but 
he doesn't want to miss out on these 
moments.

Plankton takes a deep breath, his 
antennae wiggling as he gathers his 
courage. He approaches the swing set, 
his eye scanning the area for any 
potential triggers. The chains of the 
swings glint in the sun, and he can 
almost feel the sway of the seat beneath 
him. He hasn't swung in years, not since 
before Chip was born.

Plankton sits on the swing by Chip.

The metal is cold and hard beneath him, 
but as he starts to push off with his foot, 
the chains begin to squeak a comforting 
rhythm. The motion is familiar, almost 
soothing, reminding him of a time when 
the world was simpler, less stormy. He 
watches Chip, his heart swelling with 
love as his son's laughter fills the air.

As they swing side by side, Plankton's 
antennae twitch with every movement of 
the breeze, every giggle that escapes 
Chip. The wind rushes through the 
playground, and he feels the rock in his 
pocket, a reminder of their newfound 
understanding.

The rhythmic motion of the swing starts 
to work its magic, and Plankton's 
beginning to relax. The gentle sway 
feels like a lullaby for his overstimulated brain. 
Plankton smiles, his antennae waving in a way that 
says everything is ok.

They swing in silence for a while, the 
steady back and forth a comforting 
metronome to the chaotic symphony of 
the playground around them. Plankton 
can feel the tension in his body slowly 
uncoiling, the squeak of the chains 
becoming a familiar melody that soothes 
his frazzled nerves.

new chip off the old talks familycore x

GREAT CHIP ix
(Autistic author)

Chip took a deep breath, trying
to compose himself. "I know I can't
fix you, Dad," he said, his voice shaking.

Plankton's antennae stopped moving,
his eye focusing on Chip with an intensity
that made him feel like he was being x-rayed.
"You can't," he said, his voice firm. "But you
can support me. You can be there without
trying to change me."

Chip nodded, swallowing the lump
in his throat. "Okay," he managed to say.
"But I want to understand. I want
to be here for you."

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye narrowing slightly. "Understand?"
he echoed, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"Sure, it's easy. Just imagine your
brain's a pinball machine on tilt. Sounds
fun, right?"

Chip felt a smile tug at the corner
of his mouth despite the tension,
which only adds to Plankton's anger.
"Well, when you put it that way..."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye squinting at his son's response.
"What?" he barked, his voice
sharp.

Chip tried to hold onto his smile,
his heart racing. "I mean,
if it's like a pinball machine, I can
learn the patterns," he said, his tone
carefully light. "I'm pretty good at video
games, so..."

Plankton's antennae waved wildly,
his eye flashing with anger. "You think
this is a game?" he shouted, his voice
filling the room. "You think
I enjoy being out of control? WELL THEN
PERHAPS YOU CAN EXPLAIN THE FUN OF FORGETTING
WHERE I AM FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!"

Chip's smile dropped, his eyes wide
with shock at his father's outburst.
He took a step back, his hands up
in a gesture of peace. "I'm sorry,"
he said quickly, his voice trembling.
"I didn't mean to make a joke of it, I
just..."

"You just what?" Plankton spat, his
small body vibrating with rage. "You just
don't get it! You can't get it! You're not
autistic, you don't know what it's like to have
your brain turn on you like that!"

Chip's eyes filled with tears,
his heart breaking at the accusation.
"I know, Dad," he said, his voice
barely above a whisper. "But I'm trying."

Plankton's antennae quivered with
the force of his rage. "You don't know,"
he said, his voice cold. "You can't know.
All I see is a little child playing pretend,
thinking he can understand what I go 
through! And yet you're the one asking
for help! Face it, you're never going to get 
it and so don't expect ME to explain it to you!"

Chip's eyes watered, the words hitting
like a sledgehammer. He had never seen
his father so furious, so unyielding. "I'm sorry,"
he whispered, his voice shaking. "I just want 
to help."

Plankton's antennae stopped their wild
movements, his eye focusing on his son with
a cold, calculating gaze. "Help?" he repeated,
his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want to
help by poking fun at my condition?"

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his heart racing. "Dad, I didn't mean it
like that," he said, his voice trembling.
"I just wanted to lighten the mood."

Plankton's antennae waved, his eye
still cold and distant. "Don't," he said,
his voice like ice. "Don't try to lighten
it. And don't you DARE make fun of it."

Chip's eyes fell to the floor,
his heart aching with the weight of his
father's anger. "I'm sorry," he whispered,
his voice trembling. "I di-"

"You're sorry?" Plankton's voice
was a whip crack in the silence. "Sorry
doesn't cut it!" He slammed his fist
on the table, causing their plates to rattle.
"You think an apology is enough
when you belittle what I go through?"

Chip's eyes widened with fear
as his dad's anger grew. He'd never
seen Plankton like this before, his
tiny body trembling with rage, his antennae
thrashing like live wires. The kitchen
felt suffocatingly small, the walls closing in.

"Dad, please," Chip begged, his voice
shaking. "I didn't mean it that way."

But Plankton was beyond listening, his
tiny body vibrating with fury. "You don't get to
make jokes about this!" he roared, his antennae
whipping about like agitated snakes. "You don't get to
reduce it to a game you can win with a simple joke!"

Chip took another step back, his heart
pounding in his chest. He had never seen
his father this enraged, and it scared him. "Dad, I-"
he began, but Plankton's tirade didn't stop.

"You think it's funny?" Plankton shouted,
his antennae a blur of motion. "You think
it's fun to live with this?" His voice grew
louder, his words sharper. "You think it's
easy to lighten up at the drop of a hat?"

Chip's eyes filled with tears as
his father's anger grew, his voice
crackling like static. He hadn't meant to make
light of his dad's condition, but now it
seemed as if he'd made everything worse.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, his hands
shaking.

Plankton's antennae whipped around
his head, his eye bulging. "Sorry won't
make it go away!" he screamed, his voice
bouncing off the walls. "You think you can
make it better with a laugh?" He slammed
his fist down again, the sound like a gunshot.
"It's not a joke, Chip!"

Chip's eyes filled with tears as he watched
his father's outburst, his heart pounding.
He had never seen Plankton like this,
his anger a living, breathing thing that filled
the room like a toxic cloud. "I know," he whispered,
his voice shaking. "But I want to help."

Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his
body shaking with the force of his emotions.
"Help?" he spat, his voice a whip. "You want
to help? Then stop making it about you!"

Chip's eyes grew wide with fear
as he watched his father's anger
boil over, his voice shaking. "Dad, please,"
he whispered, his heart racing.

Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly,
his body vibrating with uncontrollable
rage. Suddenly, he grabbed the
coffee mug from the table,
flinging it across the room
where it shattered against the wall.
Shards of ceramic flew everywhere,
puncturing the silence like shrapnel.

"Dad, no!" Chip yelled, his heart racing
faster than it ever had before. He had
never seen Plankton this out of control.
And Karen knew she had to act fast.

Her voice was calm but firm as
she approached Plankton. "Sweetie,
it's okay," she said, her hands up in a
non-threatening gesture. "Let's go
to your workshop. You know that's your
safe space."

Plankton's antennae thrashed, his
eye darting around the room, seeking
anything to target his anger. "I don't
want to go anywhere!" he roared, his
body shaking with the intensity of
his emotions. "It's not okay!"

Karen stepped closer, her voice
steady. "It's okay to be upset,"
she said, her eyes never leaving
his. "But Chip..."

But Plankton's rage was unstoppable.
He lunged for the nearest object,
a framed photo of Chip,
his grip tightening as he raised it
over his head, ready to smash it
against the floor.

Karen's eyes widened, her heart
pounding in her chest. She had
to defuse the situation before it
got any worse. "Plankton, no," she
pleaded, her voice steady. "Please,
don't."

But Plankton's rage had taken over,
his body moving on autopilot as he
swung the photo frame with all his might.
It crashed to the floor, the shattering
glass echoing in the small room.
Chip's eyes grew round with shock,
his body frozen in place as he watched
his father's tantrum unfold.

"Dad, please stop!" he shouted, his voice
cracking with fear. "You're scaring me!"

But Plankton's rage was a runaway train,
his antennae quivering with the intensity
of his anger. He stomped over to the counter,
grabbing a plate and flinging it against
the wall, where it shattered into a hundred
tiny pieces. The sound was deafening, the force
of the impact sending a shiver down Chip's spine.

Karen stepped in front of Chip,
placing herself between him and the storm
of Plankton's fury. "Stop," she said firmly,
her voice a calm oasis in the chaos.
"You're scaring him."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye focusing on Karen with a mix
of anger and confusion. For a moment,
his body seemed to pause, his arm
still mid-air, a kitchen towel gripped tightly
in his hand. Then, with a roar, he threw it,
the soft fabric landing limply on the floor.

Karen's eyes searched her husband's,
seeing the turmoil behind the rage.
"Please, Plankton," she said, her voice
soothing. "Let's talk about this."

But Plankton's anger was like a
wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
He picked up another mug, his arm
winding up to throw it, when Chip
suddenly stepped forward, his eyes
locked on his father's. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "Please don't."

Plankton's antennae paused, his
arm still raised. "WHY?" he growled,
his eye wild with anger. "You think
you can just tell me what to do?" And
then, with a sickly twisted satisfaction,
Plankton hurled the mug in front of
Chip, purposefully missing him.

The room seemed to hold its breath
as the mug spun through the air,
the shattering of porcelain on the
tile floor a symphony of pain. "Dad,"
Chip said, his voice shaking. "It's not
about control. It's about us. Our fam..."

But Plankton was beyond words,
his rage a living entity that
consumed him. He grabbed a toaster,
his grip white-knuckled, and hurled
it at the fridge, the metallic clang
a cacophony in the small kitchen.
"I DON'T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!"
he bellowed, his antennae a blur.

new great chip familycore ix

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 23

Plankton's sobs echo
through the room, his
body shaking with the
force of his emotions.
"Karen," he whispers,
his voice hoarse.

Karen's eyes are wet,
but she holds his gaze,
her voice a lifeline.
"I'm here," she says, her
hand steady on his cheek.
"You're safe." Plankton's
breath hitches, his eye
flickering with recognition.
"Safe," he repeats, his
voice a mere breath.

The therapist nods
encouragingly, her eyes
on the two of them. "Keep
going," she murmurs. "You're
getting through to him."

Karen's eyes never
leave Plankton's. "You're
safe," she repeats, her
tone soothing. "You're with
me, and Chip." Plankton's
sobs slow, his body
still trembling. "Wi-with
me," he whispers, his
hand tightening on hers.

The therapist nods,
smiling slightly. "Good,"
she says. "Keep it simple."
Karen nods, her voice
steady. "You're okay,
Plankton," she says. "We're
right here." Plankton's
breathing hitches, his
body slowly calming, when
Krabs barges in.

Krabs hadn't seen his
rival Plankton much so
he thought perhaps
Plankton's up to some
thing big. "Alright, funny
business; where are ye-"

But then he sees the
scene before him as
Plankton once again slips
into a shut-down, his
body going limp in Karen's
arms. Chip's eyes widen
with fear, the room
spinning. "Dad!" he cries.
"It's okay," Dr. Marla says.

Krabs freezes, his eyes
taking in Plankton's
state. "What in Neptune's
name is goin' on here?"
his voice gruff, but
concerned as he never
knew of Plankton's
neurodisability.

Karen's gaze
meets his, her 
voice steady. "It's a
sensory overload,"
she explains. "When
his mother was to
give birth, somehow his
head got stuck. It was
nobody's fault, just
a tough delivery. But it
caused his brain
structure to develop
differently. When he
got stuck, the lack
of oxygen and blood
flow, along with
pressure, affected the
way his neurons
connect. And some
parts of his brain just
couldn't handle the
stress, dwindling and
pretty much depleted
the resources that
were allocated for his
senses and social skills."

Krabs' eyes
widen, his usual
grumble replaced with
a rare moment of
sympathy. "So that's
why he's always been...
Neptune." he says.

Karen nods, her
expression calm but
sorrowful. "It leads
to moments like what
you're seeing right now,"
Dr. Marla explains.

Krabs looks at Plankton,
his eyes filled with a
mixture of shock and
remorse. "But he
always seemed so...
I'll leave ye alone." He 
leaves with a heavy heart.

Chip wipes at his own
tears, feeling a weight
lifting. "Dad," he says,
his voice shaking.
"You're okay." Plankton's
breathing slows, his grip
on Karen's hand loosening
as he rubs his eye, finally
coming back to them.

Plankton looks around,
his gaze confused. "Huh?"
he murmurs. Karen nods,
smiling through her
tears. "You're okay," she
says again. "You had a
big moment, but you're
safe now." Plankton's eye
finds Chip, and his
expression relaxes slightly.
"Where," he says, his voice
still weak.

Karen's voice is soft.
"You're at home," she
explains. "Dr. Marla is
gonna get going, but
you gotta new box
of sensory items!" She
says, deliberately leaving
Mr. Krabs’s discovery out.
They all knew he won't 
take it lightly.

Dr. Marla leaves, 
and Chip smiles,
his eyes shining. 
"You're all better," 
he says, his voice 
filled with relief.

Meanwhile, Krabs
went to his own
home feeling quite
conflicted with new
found knowledge
of Plankton's autism.

He'd always seen
his rival as a mere
annoyance, a pebble in
his otherwise smooth
existence. But now,
he couldn't shake the
image of Plankton's
desperate sobs and
his own lack of
understanding.

Krabs sat in his
dimly lit bedroom,
thoughts racing as he
stared at the wall.
He'd never known
Plankton's struggles
went so deep, that
his brain was wired
differently. It made
sense now, the way
his rival would react
to things dramatically. 
The way he'd just
bluntly speak his mind.
He'd just thought Plankton
was weird, but now,
he knew better.

The next day, Krabby
Patty's sales were
booming, but Krabs'
mind was elsewhere.
He thought of what
Karen told him about
Plankton's birth and his
autism. It was a lot to
take in, but he couldn't
decide how to interact
whenever Plankton next
comes around. He knew
Plankton has no idea that
he found out.

As he counted his
money, his heart felt
heavier than the
gold coins. He'd always
seen Plankton as a
nuisance, a constant
thorn in his side. But
now, he saw a different
side to him. A side that
was struggling, a side
that was just trying to
navigate a world that
wasn't made for him.

Krabs sighs, his
thoughts deep. He 
knew he couldn't 
bring himself to
mock Plankton 
anymore, yet he
knew Plankton might
be suspicious if he
suddenly acts any
different than their
usual competitiveness.
He decided to keep
his newfound
understanding to
himself, for now, but
his interactions
could be more
considerate.

Moments later
Plankton, obviously
oblivious to the
shift in Krabs'
demeanor, attempts
to steal the Krabby
Patty secret formula.

Krabs, still deep in
thought, catches him
mid-sneak by the
cash register as the
cashier, Squidward,
read some magazine.

Plankton's antennae
perk up as he's caught.
"Mr. Krabs," he stammers,
his eye darting around.
"Just... just popping
in for a... uh...chat?" 
Plankton lied, his usual
bravado apparent.

Mr. Krabs looks at
his rival, his expression
unreadable. "Oh, I see,"
he says, his voice calm.
Plankton didn't notice
the subtlety of Krabs’s
tone being a bit nicer.

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xii

(Autistic Author)


The tree above them provides a gentle 
canopy, casting dappled shadows on 
Plankton's sleeping form. The leaves 
rustle in the breeze, creating a natural 
lullaby that soothes not only him but 
Chip and Karen as well. The world 
outside the shade seems to melt away, 
leaving them in a quiet cocoon of peace.

Karen watches her son with a mix of 
admiration and sadness. He's growing 
up so fast, she thinks, having to learn 
about things most kids his age don't 
have to. But Chip's strength is 
undeniable, and she knows that 
together, they'll navigate the storms that 
come with Plankton's condition.

The park's cacophony slowly starts to 
fade into the background, replaced by 
the rhythmic sound of Plankton's deep, 
even breathing. Chip sits next to him, 
the love rock still in his hand, his thumb 
tracing the smooth surface. The 
shadows from the tree above dance 
across their faces, creating a 
mesmerizing pattern of light and dark 
that seems to mirror the complexities of 
their lives.

Karen pulls out a small blanket from 
their bag and covers Plankton gently, 
tucking it around his small body. She 
looks at Chip, her eyes filled with a mix 
of love and sadness. "Why don't you sit 
with him for a bit?" she suggests. "I'll 
grab the car."

Chip nods solemnly, taking a seat 
beside his father. He places the love 
rock in Plankton's palm, curling his 
slender fingers around it. The park's 
sounds seem to fade away as he 
focuses on Plankton's peaceful face, the 
only indication of life the steady rise and 
fall of his chest. Chip's eyes drift over to 
the swings, now silent, the chains still 
swaying slightly from their earlier use.

While Karen walks to get the car, Chip 
sits in quiet contemplation, feeling the 
weight of their conversation from the 
night before. He's learned so much 
about his dad, about the storms in his 
brain that make him different. But 
instead of fear, Chip feels a newfound 
respect and love, a bond stronger than 
any storm could break.

Plankton's eye flutter open, the sleepy 
confusion fading as he sees Chip sitting 
beside him, the love rock still clutched in 
his hand. He looks around, the park 
coming back into focus. His antennae 
twitch slightly, searching for the source 
of comfort.

"Hey, buddy," Plankton says, his voice 
groggy. "What happened?"

Chip's eyes light up, his grip on the rock 
tightening. "You had a seizure," he 
explains, his voice steady. "But you're ok 
now. We're just waiting for Mom to bring 
the car."

Plankton nods, his gaze drifting to the 
rock. He opens his palm, revealing the 
smooth, shimmering stone. "Thank you," 
he murmurs, his voice thick with 
emotion.

Chip looks up, his eyes meeting 
Plankton's. "It's our love rock," he says 
simply, his voice filled with the weight of 
their new understanding.

Plankton's antennae twitch, a hint of a 
smile playing on his lips. "I remember," 
he says, his voice a little stronger. "It's a 
good rock."

The two sit in companionable silence, 
the rock a tangible symbol of their bond. 
The park's sounds slowly filter back in, 
the laughter of children, the squeak of 
the swings, the distant bark of a seagull. 
Life goes on around them, but in this 
moment, their world is small and 
focused.

As Karen pulls up with the car, she sees 
them sitting under the tree, the love rock 
in Plankton's hand. She parks and walks 
over, her eyes filled with concern. 
"Ready to go home?" she asks gently.

Plankton nods, his antennae rising 
slightly. "Yeah," he says, his voice still 
shaky. "Let's go."

They carefully help him into the car, the 
love rock still nestled in his hand. The 
drive home is quiet, the weight of the 
day's events hanging heavy in the air. 
Chip watches his dad, his heart aching 
for the silent struggle he knows he's 
facing.

As they pull into the driveway, Karen 
looks back in the rearview mirror.

"Remember, Chip," she says, her eyes 
meeting her son's in the reflection, 
"today was a learning experience. We all 
need to be patient with each other."

Chip nods solemnly, his gaze never 
leaving Plankton's face. He sees the 
exhaustion etched into his father's 
features, the quiet strength that hides 
beneath the storm. "I know," he 
whispers, his voice filled with 
understanding beyond his years.

The house is a welcome retreat from the 
overwhelming sensory assault of the 
park. Inside, everything is familiar and 
comforting, a bastion of predictability in 
a world that often seems too loud and 
too bright for Plankton. Karen helps 
Plankton into bed, tucking him in with 
the care of a lighthouse keeper guiding 
a ship to safety.

Chip sits on the edge of the bed, holding 
the love rock out to Plankton. "Do you 
still want this?" he asks, his voice 
tentative.

Plankton's hand reaches out, his eyes 
never leaving the rock. He takes it, his 
grip firm. "Yeah," he says, a hint of a 
smile playing on his lips. "It's 
comforting."

Karen gives them both a soft smile 
before leaving the room, closing the 
door gently behind her. The room is 
filled with the hum of the fish tank, the 
calming blue light casting a soothing 
glow. Chip sits with his father, the love 
rock nestled in Plankton's hand, a silent 
sentinel of their bond.

For a moment, they just breathe 
together. Then, Chip decides to speak. 
"Daddy," he says, his voice gentle and 
soothing, "I'm here for you. No matter 
what happens, ok?"

Plankton's eye flicker with 
understanding, and he squeezes the 
rock in his hand. "Thank you, Chip," he 
murmurs, his voice filled with more 
emotion than Chip has ever heard from 
him. "I'm lucky to have you."

The words hang in the air, heavy with 
meaning, as Chip nods, his own eyes 
brimming with tears. He leans in to offer 
Plankton his hand to hold. Plankton 
takes it, his grip firm, his eye searching 
Chip's for reassurance. The love rock 
remains a silent witness to their 
conversation, a physical representation 
of the unspoken affection that flows 
between them.

Slowly, Plankton's eye grow heavy, the 
lid drooping as sleep claims him once 
more. His hand relaxes around Chip's, 
the rock still cradled in his other palm. 
Chip watches his father's chest rise and 
fall with each deep, even breath, the 
storm of the day finally abating.

Eventually, Plankton's eye opens, a 
glimmer of understanding piercing the 
tempest. His antennae still, his body 
going rigid with the effort of speaking. 
He draws in a deep breath, his eye 
locking onto Chip's and also Karen’s, the 
love rock a bridge between them. "Lo..." 
he manages to murmur, the word a 
tremor in the quiet room. Karen's eyes 
widen, her heart skipping a beat. "Lo..." 
he tries again, the syllable a whisper of 
hope. The room feels like it's expanding, 
the walls stretching with the weight of 
his effort. "Lo...ve," he finally says, the 
word a shaky but clear declaration.

The air shimmers with the power of the 
spoken word, the love rock in Chip's 
hand feeling like it's vibrating with joy. 
Karen's eyes overflow with tears as she 
squeezes Plankton's hand, her voice 
choking with emotion. "Oh, honey," she 
says, her voice a gentle caress, "we 
know." Chip's own eyes sparkle with 
unshed tears, his voice trembling as he 
speaks. "We love you too, Daddy."
 "Lo...love," he manages to repeat, the 
word a treasure pulled from the depths
of his mind. Chip feels a tear slide down 
his cheek, the love rock in his hand a 
warm emblem of victory.

"You don't have to say it, Daddy," Chip 
says, his voice shaky but earnest. "We 
know." But Plankton's eye
determined, the word 'love' a beacon he 
needs to reach. With a Herculean effort, 
he whispers, "Chip...Karen...love...you." 
The room is suffused with a warmth that 
feels like a sunrise, the shadows 
retreating to the corners.

Karen stands with 
love for her family. She knows that this is 
just the beginning of their journey, that 
there will be more storms to weather. 
But with Chip by his side, she feels a 
glimmer of hope that Plankton's world 
will be a little less overwhelming.

new chip off the old talks familycore xii

She Knew Something Was Up
When my great-grandma was on her last legs, she was convinced that my mom was having a baby and wanted to know if it was a girl or boy. My mom replied by telling her that she was not pregnant, and after asking the same to my aunt she said, "Oh, guess I was wrong". Here's where it gets unsettling. Exactly nine months later, I was born.

new factinate familycore reproductioncore parenthood

Spiritually — I will win.

Financially — I will win.

Career wise - I will win.

Mentally - I will win.

Emotionally - I will win.

Physically - I will win.

Family wise — I will win.

Love Life - I will win.

In my life — I will win.

I will have it all I'm claiming it.

new spiritualcore familycore wins

😘😘💚🐾

new spotcore familycore green

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xi

(Autistic Author)


The wind whispers through the leaves of 
the nearby trees, carrying with it the 
scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant 
sound of seagulls. It's a simple pleasure, 
but one that Plankton has often missed 
in his quest to protect his son from the 
storms in his own mind.

Suddenly, the serenity is shattered as a 
ball comes hurtling through the air, 
narrowly missing Plankton's head. He 
flinches, his antennae shooting straight 
up in alarm. Chip's swing comes to an 
abrupt halt, his eyes wide with fear. The 
children playing nearby laugh, unaware 
of the chaos their game has brought to 
the quiet corner of the playground.

Plankton's eye darts around, trying to 
process the sudden assault of sound 
and movement. His breath comes in 
quick, shallow gasps, and Karen can 
see the beginnings of a panic attack 
forming on his face. "Daddy!" Chip 
shouts, jumping off his swing and racing 
to his side.

With surprising speed and grace, Chip 
leaps into action, catching Plankton just 
as he starts to topple off the swing.

"Daddy!" Chip says, his voice filled with 
urgency as he gently guides Plankton's 
unresponsive body to the soft grass 
below. The love rock still clutches in his 
small hand.

Karen rushes over, her eyes wide with 
concern. "Is he ok?" she asks, kneeling 
beside them.

Chip nods, his chest heaving. "He has 
an absence seizure thing," he says, his voice 
shaking slightly. He looks up at Karen, 
his eyes filled with fear and confusion. 
"What do we do?"

Karen's eyes fill with a mix of panic and 
love as she takes in the sight of 
Plankton, his body frozen in mid-swing, 
his antennae limp. She's been here 
before, but it never gets easier. "It's ok," 
she says, her voice calm despite her 
racing heart. "Just give him a moment. 
He'll come back to us."

Chip nods, his grip on the love rock 
tightening as he watches his father. The 
world seems to slow down around them, 
the laughter of the other children fading 
into a distant memory. Plankton's 
breathing is shallow, his body stiff. Karen 
reaches out, placing a gentle hand on 
his back, feeling the rise and fall of his 
chest.

The seconds tick by like hours, each 
one filled with the weight of uncertainty. 
Chip clutches the love rock, willing his 
dad to come back. He's seen this 
before, but it never gets easier. He 
remembers the first time it happened, 
the fear that had gripped him, the feeling 
of helplessness as his dad's eye glazed 
over. But now, he knows what to do. 
He's not as scared; he's prepared.

With trembling hands, Chip takes out the 
love rock, its smoothness a comforting 
reminder of their conversation. He 
places it gently in Plankton's palm, 
curling the slender fingers around it. 
"You're ok," he whispers, his voice 
steady despite the storm of emotions 
inside. "We’re here."

Plankton's body remains still, a stark 
contrast to the vibrant world around 
them. The squeaks of the swings, the 
laughter of the children, the distant 
crash of waves, all seem to fade into the 
background as they wait for him to 
return from his brief retreat.

Karen sits beside Chip, her hand on his 
shoulder, offering silent support.

Time seems to stand still as they wait, 
the rock in Plankton's hand a silent 
testament to their newfound bond. The 
park's vibrant sounds muffle into a 
distant symphony, the world holding its 
breath for Plankton's return. Above 
them, the sun casts a warm, gentle light, 
the shadows dancing as if in a silent 
ballet of concern.

The seconds stretch into eternity, each 
one a heartbeat of hope. Chip's eyes 
never leave his father, willing him back 
with all his might. The rock in Plankton's 
palm is a symbol of love and 
understanding, a bridge connecting 
them through the stormy seas of his 
mind.

As Plankton's body remains frozen, the 
world around them seems to hold its 
breath. The rustling of the leaves above, 
the distant laughter of children, even the 
crash of waves in the background seem 
to hush in respectful silence. It's as if the 
universe itself is offering a quiet 
sanctuary for Plankton's return.

Chip's eyes never leave his father's 
face, his grip on the love rock in 
Plankton's palm unwavering. His heart 
races with fear, but he squeezes the 
rock tighter, trying to channel the love 
and support he feels into his dad's 
unresponsive hand. Chip decides to 
whisper comforting words.
"Daddy, it's ok," he says softly. "You're 
safe here with me and Mom."

Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of fear 
and admiration for her son's courage. 
She watches as Chip decides to 
continue.

"Remember the rock, Daddy?" Chip 
whispers. "It's my way of saying I love 
you."

Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, a 
glimmer of recognition in his eye. The 
world around them seems to hold its 
breath, the very air thick with 
anticipation. Chip's voice is the only 
sound, a gentle lullaby in the cacophony 
of the playground.

The rock in Plankton's hand feels warm, 
almost alive, as if it's absorbing the love 
Chip is whispering into it. Chip watches 
as Plankton's antennae slowly start to 
wiggle, a sign that he's coming back to 
them. "I'm here," Chip says, his voice 
barely audible. "I'll always be here."

Karen's hand moves to cover Chip's, her 
eyes glistening with tears she's trying 
hard to hold back. The sight of her son's 
unwavering support is both 
heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. 
Plankton's chest rises and falls more 
steadily, his breathing evening out.

The rock in Plankton's hand seems to 
pulse with a gentle warmth, a silent 
acknowledgment of Chip's words. Karen 
sees the tension in Plankton's features 
begin to ease, his antennae drooping 
slightly as he starts to come back to 
them. It's a delicate process, like waking 
a sleeping dragon. Any sudden 
movement could send him back into the 
storm.

Chip's voice is a beacon, guiding 
Plankton through the fog. 
"It's ok," Chip repeats, his voice 
soothing, "You're with us." Plankton's 
antennae twitch again, and Karen can 
see the spark of understanding in his 
eye.

Slowly, Plankton's body starts to relax. 
The tension in his shoulders eases, and 
his antennae twitch in a way that tells 
Karen he's listening, that he's with them 
again. His breathing evens out, and his 
eyelid flickers closed.

For a moment, Chip is afraid. But then, 
Plankton's hand tightens slightly around 
the rock, giving him a squeeze that says 
'Thank you'. Karen smiles, her eyes 
shimmering with relief. "Looks like he’s 
asleep," she whispers, her voice filled 
with a mix of humor and love.

Chip nods, his own eyes never leaving 
Plankton's peaceful face. They stay like 
that for a while, the three of them, in the 
quiet sanctuary of the park bench. The 
storm in Plankton's mind has passed, 
leaving them in a gentle lull.

The playground's sounds slowly start to 
filter back in, the chatter of children, the 
distant hum of the city, the rustling of 
leaves in the breeze. Chip keeps 
whispering, his voice a gentle caress in 
the stillness. "It's ok, Daddy. You're 
safe."

Karen watches her son with a mix of 
love and sadness, knowing the weight 
he now carries. He's growing up too fast, 
she thinks, but he's handling it with more 
grace than anyone could ask for. 

Plankton's hand relaxes around the 
rock, his breathing deep and even. The 
storm inside him has passed for now, 
leaving them with a quiet, precious 
moment.

Chip leans into her, his voice a whisper. 
"Is he going to be ok?"

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving 
Plankton's peaceful face. "He'll be fine," 
she says. "Rest is sometimes the best 
thing for him after an episode."

Chip nods, his grip on the rock in 
Plankton's hand loosening slightly. He 
looks around the park, the world coming 
back into focus. The other kids are 
playing, their laughter a gentle reminder 
of the life that goes on outside their little 
bubble of concern.

"Should we go home?" Chip asks, his 
voice still hushed.

Karen nods. "Let's get him into the 
shade," she says, gesturing to a nearby 
tree. "The fresh air and quiet will do him 
good."

Together, they gently lift Plankton and 
carry him to the cool, shaded spot. Chip 
is careful not to jostle him too much, his 
little hands supporting Plankton's head.

Under the tree, Karen lays a blanket on 
the ground and they place him down. 
His antennae are still now, no longer 
dancing with the stress of the seizure. 
His breath is deep and even, his 
features relaxed in sleep.

Chip watches him intently, his thumb 
tracing the smooth surface of the love 
rock. "He's going to be ok, right?" he 
asks, his voice a barely audible whisper. 
Karen nods, her eyes filled with a fierce 
protectiveness. "Of course, sweetie," 
she says. "Daddy just needs some rest."

new chip off the old talks familycore xi

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 17

Plankton's body relaxes
slightly, his breathing
evening out as Karen
continues to stroke his
back. Chip feels a
lump in his throat. He
wants to help, to ease
his dad's pain. "I never
meant to hurt you," he
whispers, his voice
hoarse with emotion.

Karen looks over, her
expression a mix of
love and sadness. "You
didn't, sweetie," she says.
"But sometimes, even
good intentions can
be overwhelming for your
dad. It's not your fault.
Just like it's not his."

Plankton's antenna
twitches, his gaze 
shifting to Chip.
He takes a deep 
breath as Karen's 
hands continue to 
stroke his back. His 
body relaxes a little
more, his grip on 
Karen loosening.
"Dad?" Chip whispers, 
his voice tentative.
Plankton eye opens.

"Can I...?" Chip 
gestures towards
his dad, his hand 
now outstretched.

Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly, his 
eye darting to Karen.
She nods, her smile
reassuring. "If you like,"
she whispers.

With tentative movements,
Chip's hand reaches for his
father's shoulder. Plankton 
flinches slightly. "Gentle."

Chip nods, his touch
featherlight as he rests
his hand on Plankton's 
shoulder. "It's okay,"
he murmurs. Plankton's
body relaxes a fraction
more under the warmth
of his son's hand, his eye
now closing.

Karen's eyes meet
Chip's, and she smiles
weakly, her gaze filled
with gratitude. "Thank
you," she mouths. Chip
nods, his hand still on
his dad. Plankton's 
humming has stopped,
his breathing steadying
as Karen holds him.

For the first time,
Chip feels a profound
sense of understanding
for his father. He's
seen his strength in
the face of Mr. Krabs'
competition, his genius
in his inventions, but
now he sees his softer
side, his vulnerability.
And it makes him love
his dad even more.

Plankton's breaths have
now turned into a soft
snore, his body relaxed
against Karen's. Chip
can see the exhaustion
in every line of his
father's face, a testament
to the battle he's just
faced. "He's asleep,"
Karen whispers, her voice
filled with love and
relief.

Chip nods, his hand
still on Plankton's shoulder.
"Should we...?"
Karen shakes her head.
"Let him rest," she
says, her voice a mere
whisper. "He's had
a long day."

Plankton's clinginess
was a stark contrast to
his usual demeanor.
Karen knew all too
well the emotional toll
his seizures took on
him. But it was the
first time Chip had
seen his dad so...
dependent on someone
else for comfort. It
was jarring, but it also
made him realize the
strength that Plankton
held within himself, the
courage to face, alone.

As Plankton sleeps,
his snores are rhythmic.
It's a sound that
Karen finds soothing,
a sign that he's at peace. 
His body seems to melt
into her side, his
muscles unclenched.

Chip watches him,
his mind racing with
thoughts. He's seen
his dad's fiery temper,
his ingenious inventions,
his unwavering drive,
but never this, raw and
exhausted. It's a stark
contrast that makes
his chest ache.

Plankton's snores
remain steady, his body
completely relaxed
against Karen's side.
Karen looks over at Chip,
her expression a mix
of love and sadness.
"He's been through a lot,"
she whispers. "But he's
stronger than anyone I
know." Chip nods, his
hand still resting lightly
on his father's shoulder.

Karen gently shifts 
Plankton, getting 
ready to tuck him
into his bed, his 
snores unchanged,
his mind resting.

Karen carefully 
slides her arm from
underneath Plankton's
head, her movements
practiced and gentle.
Chip watches, his eyes
never leaving his father's
face, as if afraid to miss
anything. Plankton's
snores hitch, but 
don't stop.

As Karen pulls the
covers over Plankton,
his snores don't miss
a beat. His body sags
against the pillow,
his antennae still.

Chip watches his dad
sleep, a sight that
both comforts and
saddens him. He's
seen Plankton's fiery
determination in
their battles against
Mr. Krabs, but now
his father seems so
small, so vulnerable.

Karen nods to Chip,
whispering, "Why don't
you go to your room?
I'll keep an eye on
him." Chip hesitates,
his hand still on Plankton's
shoulder. "But what if
he wakes up?"

Chip's concern is
palpable, but Karen's
smile is reassuring.
"I'll wake you if he
needs you," she promises.
"But he's in a good
place right now. He
just needs rest."
Chip nods, his
hand lingering on
Plankton's shoulder
for a moment longer.
He gently withdraws it,
his gaze still locked
on his father. "Okay,"
he whispers, his voice
barely audible.

Karen stands up,
her movements silent
as she crosses the
room. "You've had a
long day too," she
says softly, her hand
on Chip's shoulder. "Why
don't you get some
sleep as well? Your dad's
got an appointment
tomorrow with his
sensory therapist."

But Chip's eyes
widen. "What‽"

"It's okay," Karen
whispers, her hand
on Chip's shoulder.
"It's just to help him
and us understand
his senses better."

The next morning
Karen wakes Chip
up. "We're about to
go; I'll wake your dad."

Chip nods sleepily,
his eyes still adjusting
to the light. He
walks into the room
to find Plankton still
asleep, his body
still curled into a
tiny ball, his snores
steady and deep.

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore pt

GREAT CHIP xi
(Autistic author)

After a moment, she turned and walked
towards the workshop door, her steps slow
and deliberate. She paused, her hand
on the doorknob, looking back at Chip with a
mixture of pain and resolve. "I'll check
on your father," she said, her voice a whisper.
"You... you clean up here."

Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving
his mother's. He knew she was hurting too,
but she was putting on a brave face for him.
As she disappeared into the workshop,
his heart felt like it was in a vice. He'd never
seen his parents like this before.

The kitchen was a mess of shattered
dishes and splattered jelly, a stark
contrast to the usually pristine space.
He took a deep breath and began to
collect the broken pieces, his mind racing
with thoughts of his father's pain.

Karen's footsteps were quiet
as she approached the workshop,
the door slightly ajar. She could
hear Plankton's muffled sobs from
inside, his tiny body hunched
over his workbench. She took a
deep breath, steeling herself for
what she might find.

The room was a whirlwind of
half-finished inventions, wires
and gadgets scattered about.
Her heart broke at the sight of her
husband, the usually stoic and
resourceful Plankton, reduced to a
tiny, shaking figure, his antennae
drooped like the wilted leaves of
a forgotten houseplant.

"Plankton?" Karen's voice was a soft
whisper, cutting through the quiet.
He didn't look up, his sobs the
only sound in the cluttered room.
Slowly, she approached, her eyes
taking in the chaos around them.
"Honey," she began, her voice
trembling. "I know you're upset, but..."

Plankton's sobs grew louder,
his body shaking with the force of
his emotions. Karen reached out,
her hand hovering over his shoulder,
uncertain whether to touch him.

Finally, she decided that in this moment,
space was what he needed most. She
stood there, a silent sentinel, her presence
a gentle reminder that she was there
for him. "Plankton," she said softly,
her voice a balm in the storm of his
rage. "Can I get you anything?"

Plankton's sobs grew quieter,
his tiny frame heaving with the
weight of his emotions. "No,"
he said, his voice muffled.

Karen took a step closer,
her hand still hovering. "Do you
want me to stay?" she asked, her
tone gentle.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his head nodding slightly. It was the
barest of movements, but it spoke
volumes to Karen. She stepped
forward, wrapping her arms around
his shoulders, careful not to press
too hard. He stiffened at first, but
then, ever so slightly, leaned into her.

Her embrace was gentle, her touch
like a soft breeze, offering comfort without
smothering his pain. "I always love you."

The words hung in the air,
their quiet strength a stark contrast
to the chaos of the kitchen. Plankton
felt his body begin to relax, his sobs
easing as Karen's warmth seeped in.

He took a deep, shuddering breath,
his antennae drooping. "I'm sorry,"
he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
"I didn't mean to... I don't know..."

Karen's grip tightened, her hand
sliding up to cradle his head. "It's okay,"
she soothed, her voice a gentle lullaby.

Plankton's antennae twitched
nervously against her, but he didn't pull away.
He knew she was there for him, even when
his own mind was a tempest of confusion.

"You don't have to apologize," Karen
whispered.

Her words were a balm to Plankton's
raw nerves, and he leaned into her
embrace. She knew he was
sensitive post-episode, his emotions
like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap.
Her heart ached for him, for the fear
and frustration he felt in those moments.

Karen's eyes scanned the room,
noticing the chaos of Plankton's
workshop, his mind's refuge.
Usually, the disarray was organized,
each gear and wire in its place. Now,
it was as though a tornado had swept
through, leaving a trail of half-finished
inventions in its wake.

Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his
body still tense under her touch.
"I just... I don't want you to look
at me and see something broken
and unlovable.."

Karen's eyes filled with tears.
"You are you, and that is all 
I've ever loved."

The words hung in the air,
a gentle rebuttal to the harshness
of the earlier scene. Plankton's
sobs grew quieter, his breathing
evening out. Chip hovered at the
entrance, his heart a tumultuous
sea of regret and fear. He'd hurt
his father, and he didn't know
how to fix it.

He took a tentative step into
the workshop, his eyes scanning
the room. The mess was a stark
reminder of the turmoil Plankton
was feeling, and it only served
to amplify Chip's own guilt.
He watched his mother's careful
movements, her gentle touch,
and he desperately wanted to do
the same.

new great chip familycore xi

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 18

Karen moves quietly.
She gently shakes him.
"Plankton, wake up,"
she whispers. "The
therapist."

Plankton's antenna
twitches, his eye
slowly opening. "Oh,
right," he mumbles,
his voice groggy. "He
usually comes over
when Chip's at school
or someth-"

Plankton startled at
a knock on the front
door, the sensory
therapist arriving for
the session. Chip
follows his parents to
open the door.

The therapist, a calm
and kind octopus,
enters the room, her
arms filled with toys
and devices. She
smiles warmly at
Plankton. "Good
morning," she says.
"And who's this young
man I see?" She looks
at Chip. Chip smiles shyly.
"Our son Chip," Karen said,
introducing her son.
"He's here to learn too."
The therapist nods, her
eyes understanding. "It's
important for everyone to
understand, isn't it?" she
says, her voice gentle.
Karen turns to Chip. "So
Chip, this is Dr. Marla."

"Hello," Dr. Marla
says, coming in
to the living room.
"I've known your
father and worked
with him for ages.
Let's all sit on the
living room floor."

Chip nods, his heart
racing. This is the
first time he's met
someone who's known
his dad's secret. He
sits down next to
Plankton, who's now 
fully alert as they all
sit in a circle.

Dr. Marla opens
a bag filled with
various sensory
toys. "Plankton," she
says, her tone gentle,
"I assume your son
has learned about
your condition. How'd
that come about?"
Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly. "It was
an accident," he says,
his voice a mix of
embarrassment and
resignation. "But it led
to... to a good
discussion? It was
when he saw me having
one of my seizures.."

Chip looks down at
his hands, feeling
his cheeks grow warm
as he remembers that
moment. Karen's hand
finds his, giving it a
squeeze. "It's okay,"
she whispers. "You
can talk about it. Now
is the time to ask, Chip."

Dr. Marla nods. "And
how has that affected
your father and son 
relationship?" She asks.
Chip looks up, his eyes
meeting hers. "It's...
it's different," he says.
"But in a good way, I
think." He glances at
Plankton, who nods in
agreement. "I've learned
so much about his...
his autism. And I know
now that he's not just
being mean, sometimes."

Dr. Marla nods, her
expression gentle. "That's
important," she says. "It's
about understanding and
compassion. Now, I'd
like to ask if there have
been any mishaps with
said relationship?"

Plankton's antennae droop,
his eye flicking to Karen.
"Well," Karen says, "There
was the time Chip tried
to be supportive, yet he
accidentally used a slur.."

The therapist nods
sympathetically. "It's a
learning process,"
she says, her tone
reassuring. "Missteps
are common when
navigating new
understandings." She
glances at Chip, her
expression encouraging.
"But it's how you
apologize and move forward
that shows growth. May I
ask what slur wa-"

"It was just a... a
silly thing I said," Chip
interjects, his voice
small. "I didn't kno—"

"It's okay," Dr. Marla
interrupts, her eyes
kind. "We're here to
learn together. What
was the slur?"

Chip swallows hard.
"I... I called him a
ret-" he admits, his
voice barely above a
whisper. "I just saw 
him acting..."

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his gaze dropping
to the floor. Karen's
grip on his hand tightens
slightly, a silent
reassurance. "It's okay,"
she whispers. "You didn't
kn-"

But Plankton's anger
surges up, cutting her
off. "No, it's not okay!"
he snaps, his voice
sharp. "I can't believe you
said it, again!" His eye
narrows, and he pulls
his hand away from
Karen's grasp.

Chip shrinks back, his
heart racing. He's never
seen his dad so upset
with him. "Dad, I'm
sorry," he stammers. "I
really di-"

But Plankton isn't
listening, his antennae
thrashing. "How could
you?!" he yells. "After
everything we talked
about!" His voice is
loud, echoing in the
small room, and Chip
flinches. Karen's eyes dart
between her husband and
son, her heart breaking
for both of them. She
knows Plankton's anger
is a defense mechanism,
a way to cope with
his pain. But she also
knows the pain Chip is
feeling, the guilt and
fear of losing his dad's
trust. "Plankton," she
says, her voice calm,
"Let's talk about this
with Dr. Marla; she's he--"

"No!" Plankton shouts,
his eye wide with rage.
He stands up, his fists
clenched as he grabs a
pillow, throwing it
across the room.

Karen flinches as
the pillow hits the
wall, but her voice
stays calm. "Plankton,
sweetie, let's breathe."
But Plankton's in
his own world, his
autism exacerbating
his reaction to the
painful word. He's
spinning, his antennae
thrashing as he searches
for something, anything
to release his anger.

"Dad," Chip whispers,
his voice trembling.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

But Plankton's in
the throes of his
tantrum, his body
moving erratically.
He grabs a book from
the shelf, tossing it
across the room.
Karen jumps up,
intervening before
anything else can fly.
"Plankton," she says
firmly, her voice a
steady force in the
storm of his anger.
"Look at me. Look at
me," she repeats, her
hands up, palms out.
"Just br-"

But Plankton isn't
calming down, his
eye wild, kicking a
chair over. Dr. Marla
approaches them.

"It's okay, Plankton,"
she says calmly. "Your
feelings are valid. But
right now, let's find a
better way to express
them." She holds out
a fidget toy, her voice
steady. "Remember,
this can he-"

But Plankton's anger
has taken over. He
swipes at the toy,
sending it flying. He
then moves to a shelf,
his hand grabbing a
picture frame. It hits
the floor. "No!" Karen
yells, but it's too late.

Dr. Marla approaches
Karen and Chip. "See,
this is the anger," she
says, her voice calm
and understanding. "It's
common with autism.
He's feeling overwhelmed
and doesn't know
how to express it.
This is Plankton's autism
flaring up, and this is
Plankton's way of
dealing with it. This is
Plankton's way of saying,
'I'm in pain, and I need
help.' Plankton is angry,
yes, but he's also scared." 

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

~ Doubting Blood
My father got a DNA test done on my autistic, non-verbal little brother because he didn't think he was his child. The results came back and it turns out my brother is his son, but my mother has no idea my dad ever got that done.

new autismcore familycore

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 19

Dr. Marla gestures
to the corner of the
room, where there's a
calming space set up
specifically for times
like these. "Let's go over
there," she suggests,
her voice calm and
soothing. But Plankton's
rage is like a tornado,
spinning him in circles.

Karen tries to guide
him gently, but he
shrugs her off, his
body tight with tension.
Chip's eyes are wide
with fear, watching his
dad's outburst. He's seen
his father's temper
before, but not like
this, not with such
unbridled fury.

Plankton's movements
are jerky, his face
distorted with anger
and pain. His breaths
are quick, his eye
unfocused. Karen
moves closer, her voice
still calm. "Let's go
to this calming corner,
sweetie," she says. But
Plankton's rage doesn't
abate. He throws
another pillow, knocking
over a lamp. The room
is a mess, a reflection
of the turmoil within
him.

"Dad, please," Chip
whispers, his voice
shaking. He's never
seen his dad like this,
his usually stoic
facade crumbling into
a chaos of emotions.

Plankton's body jerks,
his limbs flailing as
his anger escalates.
He knocks over a table,
his eye unseeing as
his senses overload.

Karen moves quickly,
trying to guide him
to the calming corner,
but he resists.
"Dad, please," Chip
pleads, his voice trembling.
But Plankton's anger is
uncontrollable, knocking
over furniture, his eye
filled with a mix of
fury and fear.

The therapist's calm
demeanor remains. She
knows this is part of
his condition, and she
doesn't flinch as a
book flies past her.
"Plankton," Karen says,
her voice firm but
gentle, "we need to—"

But Plankton isn't
listening, his rage
consuming him. He
grabs another pillow,
squeezing it tightly. His
eye darts around the
room, searching for an
outlet for his anger.
"Daddy, no!" Chip
whispers, his voice
shaking. His heart is
racing as he watches
his father, his hero,
fall apart.

Chip tries to
intervene, but
Plankton swats 
his hand away, 
his movements
wild. "Dad," Chip 
says, his voice 
louder, more
urgent. "Please, 
let's talk!" But 
Plankton can't 
hear him, his 
mind lost in
his emotions. 
He throws the 
pillow, watching
it soar through
the air before it
slams into the wall,
the feathers 
exploding out.

The room is a
whirlwind of 
movement and 
noise, and Chip 
can't help but 
flinch with every 
crash and smash. 
Karen's eyes are
wide, her face
pale. She's seen 
this before, but
it never gets
any easier.

Plankton's breaths
are coming in
quick gasps, his
body trembling
with the effort
of containing his
emotions. He throws
his head back, letting
out a scream that 
echoes through
the room, his antennae
whipping around. 
Karen's heart is in
her throat, but she 
knows she has to 
stay calm.

"Plankton," she says,
her voice steady.
"Come to the
corner, please." She
holds out a hand, 
but Plankton's too
far gone to see it. 
He throws another
book, his screams
filling the room.

Karen's heart is
racing, but she
keeps calm.
"We're here for
you," she repeats.
Yet Plankton's rage
continues to build,
his movements 
more erratic.

The therapist 
watches, ready to
step in if needed.
"It's okay," she says
soothingly. "Let's all
stay calm and sa-"

But Plankton's meltdown
reaches a crescendo.
He stumbles. Chip's eyes
widen in horror as
his father's body jerks
uncontrollably. So
Chip gets the box of
all the sensory items
and brings it out. But
that ends up being a
huge mistake.

Plankton's flailing ends
up kicking, sending every
thing flying, everything 
slamming into the wall,
the plaster cracking. The
destroyed sensory box
and unfixable items are
what breaks the straw on
the camel's back. His eye
rolls back in his head,
his body going slack.

Karen gasps, her hand
flying to her mouth.
"Plankton!" she cries out,
catching him as he falls.
Chip jumps forward, his
fear turning to dread.
But the sensory therapist
has seen it all before. "Let
him down gently, his body
and his brain have just
decided to take a break."

"But he's not moving,"
Chip cries, as Karen
lowers Plankton. Dr.
Marla opens her bag.

"It's okay," she says
calmly, her voice steady.
"This is called a shut-
down. His body has
simply had enough. But
I've got some new stuff
for him. I'll show you as
I set it up." 

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

SHELF IMPROVEMENT xi
(Autistic author)

Karen stood up. She 
needed to check on 
Chip, to make sure he 
was okay after the 
scary scene he had 
witnessed. She stepped 
out of the room, 
leaving the door 
cracked open, 
listening for any 
sign of movement 
from Plankton.

The house was 
quiet, the only sound 
being the distant 
thump of Chip's 
footsteps. She 
walked down the hallway, 
each step heavier 
than the last.

When she reached 
Chip's room, she 
found him sitting on 
his bed, his screen 
blurry with unshed 
tears. He looked up 
as she entered, his eyes 
wide with worry.

"Mom," he said, 
his voice small.

Karen's heart 
broke anew. She 
crossed the room 
and sat beside him, 
wrapping her arms 
around his small 
frame. "Chip," she 
whispered, "it's okay."

Chip leaned into her 
embrace, his body 
shaking with 
sobs. "But Dad...," 
he choked out. "Dad was 
so mad at me."

Karen's heart 
was heavy. She 
stroking his back. 
"He's not mad at you, 
Chip," she said, her 
voice gentle. "His brain 
is just... different 
now. He's scared and 
overwhelmed."

Chip sniffled, 
his shoulders 
heaving. "But why?"

"Because of his 
autism," Karen 
explained, her voice 
soft and steady. "It's 
like he's experiencing 
the world with all his 
senses turned up to 
max. Sometimes it's 
too much, and it can 
make him upset."

Chip's sobs grew 
quieter as he 
absorbed her words. "But 
I didn't mean to," 
he murmured, his voice 
filled with regret.

"I know, buddy," 
Karen said, her voice 
soothing. "And Dad 
knows you didn't mean to. 
We all just need to 
learn how to be more 
careful with each other."

Chip nodded 
against her shoulder, 
his body slowly 
relaxing into her 
embrace. "I don't 
want him to be sad," 
he whispered.

Karen kissed 
his forehead. "I 
know, Chip. And we'll 
make sure he isn't. 
We'll all learn 
together."

They sat in 
silence for a few 
more moments, 
until Chip's 
sniffles subsided.

"Would you like 
to go see him?" 
Karen asked, her 
voice tentative.

Chip nodded, 
his screen wiping 
away tears. "But 
I don't want to make 
Dad mad again," he 
whispered.

"You won't," Karen 
promised, her voice 
filled with warmth. 
"We'll go in together, 
and I'll be right here 
with you."

They walked back 
to Plankton's room, 
their steps measured. Karen 
pushed the door open 
carefully, her gaze 
flicking to the bed. 
Plankton was still 
asleep, his snores 
now a comforting 
lullaby in the quiet 
space.

Chip's eyes were 
glued to his dad, 
his antennae quivering 
slightly. "Dad?" he 
whispered.

Karen nodded, 
swiping at her own 
tears. "Let's just 
watch him for a 
moment," she said, 
guiding Chip to the 
chair beside the 
bed. They sat down 
together, their 
hands joined.

Plankton's antennae 
twitched slightly 
in his sleep, and 
Karen held her breath, 
fearing he might 
wake up. But he 
remained still, his 
tiny frame nestled 
under the blanket.

"Look, Chip," she 
whispered, pointing 
to Plankton's peaceful 
face. "Dad's sleeping. 
Let's not wake him 
up yet."

Chip nodded, 
his gaze never leaving 
his father. "But I 
want to tell him I'm 
sorry," he said, his voice 
barely above a 
whisper.

"You can tell him 
later," Karen assured, 
squeezing his hand. "Let's 
let him rest for now."

Chip nodded, 
his eyes never leaving 
Plankton's sleeping 
form. "Okay," he murmured, 
his voice thick with 
unshed tears. "But I'll 
make it up to him. I've a
science fair at school
tonight and would like
you both to come. I know
he enjoys science."

Karen's heart 
swelled with pride 
and hope. "That's 
a wonderful idea, 
Chip," she said, 
smiling through her 
tears. "I'm sure 
your father would love to 
see your project."

They sat in 
companionable silence 
for a few moments 
more before Karen 
stood up. "Go get 
ready," she said, 
gently tugging on 
Chip's arm. "We have 
a science fair to attend."

Chip's eyes 
lit up with 
excitement. 
"Really?"

"Yes," Karen 
nodded, standing 
up. "We'll all go 
together and 
support you."

Chip perked up, and 
he scurried out of the 
room, eager to get 
ready for the 
science fair. Karen 
watched him go, 
his enthusiasm a 
tiny beacon of light 
in the heavy silence 
that lingered. She took 
a deep breath, 
preparing herself for 
the task ahead.

new shelf improvement familycore xi

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 20

Dr. Marla opens her
bag, pulling out an
extending rod black
out curtain. "It kinda
looks like a shower
curtain, but these
curtains muffle sound
and block light."

Karen nods, her eyes
on Plankton's still
form. "We've tried
things before, but
this is new." Dr.
Marla nods. "We're
always learning,
aren't we?" She unfurls
the curtain around
Plankton, creating a
small, cozy space. "This
will help him feel
safe and reduce his
sensory input. It's
good for absence
seizures too."

Plankton's breathing
slows as he sinks
into the curtained
cocoon. Dr. Marla
continues. "It's like
you power off a tablet
to restart, and it will
gradually come back
on, right? That's what
Plankton's doing. And
as he 'reloads' he might
act like a newborn seeing
the world for the first time
as he wakes up. Meaning
he might not recognize
anything, speak incoherently,
etc. Plankton might take a
little while to fully come
back. Like a file downloads
it loads info little by little
until it's finished, only
then can you view it; so as
with Plankton's consciousness."

Karen nods, her eyes
never leaving her husband.
Her heart aches for him,
but she knows that he's safe,
his body cocooned in the
sensory curtain. Chip, still
shaking, watches his dad,
his eyes wide as Plankton's
eye blinks open. His gaze is
as if he's trying to
relearn his body. "K-kay?"

Karen smiles softly, her
voice gentle. "It's okay,
sweetie," she says, her
hand reaching for the
curtain. "Your dad's just
restarting, remember?"

Chip nods, his eyes
glued to Plankton's
form as he sits up,
his eyes blinking
slowly. "Hi," Chip
whispers, his voice
barely above a breath.

Plankton's eye
focuses on him, and
his mouth moves, but
only one word comes
out: "Hi." It's a
tiny victory, but
Chip feels a surge
of relief. He knows
his dad is okay, or
at least on his way
back to okay.
Dr. Marla nods.
"It's normal for
someone coming
out of a shut-
down to speak in
single words or not
at all for a while."

Karen strokes
Plankton's antenna.
"How do you feel?"
she asks softly.
Plankton's gaze is
vacant, his voice
weak. "Sedm."
Chip looks at him
confused, his heart
racing. "Dad?"
The therapist nods.
"It's normal," she says.
"After a shut-down,
his words may come
slowly. Give him
space, let him come
back to us."

Plankton blinks,
his eye unfocused.
"Mm." It's all he says,
his mouth moving
slightly, as if tasting
the air for words.
Karen nods encouragingly.
"Good job," she murmurs.
"You're doing great."
Chip feels like he's
watching a newborn
learn to speak again.

The therapist sits
beside Plankton, her
voice calm. "Would you
like a new fidget toy?"
"Buth," he mumbles, his
eye still glazed. His
brain isn't comprehending.

Karen nods, her hand
gently taking the toy.
"It's okay," she says, her
tone soothing. "You
just need to relax."
Plankton takes the
fidget toy, his hand
shaking. He clutches it,
his gaze unseeing.

Chip sits cross-
legged, his heart
pounding. He watches
his dad, his mind
racing. Why is he
like this? He's so
smart, so capable, but
right now, he seems
so... lost. "Thuh..."
Plankton whispers.

Karen nods, her
voice soft. "Take your
time," she says. "We're
not going anywhere."
Chip nods, his throat
tight. "I'm here," he
says, his voice barely
a murmur.

Plankton's hand
shakes, his grip
on the fidget toy
loosening. His eye
blinks rapidly, his mind
trying to come back
online. "Ba-back?"
he whispers, his voice
tiny.

The therapist, Dr. Marla,
sits back, her eyes
assessing. "It's normal,"
she repeats. "Your brain
needs a moment to
recalibrate." Plankton's
breathing slows, his
body uncurling from
its defensive ball. He
takes the fidget toy,
his hand trembling.

Karen's heart aches as
she watches her husband
struggle to find words.
Chip's eyes are wide
with concern, but he
doesn't interrupt, giving
his dad space. "Th-the...
hash?" Plankton says, his
voice barely a whisper.

The therapist nods.
"Good," she says. "Keep
going." Plankton's hand
shakes, the fidget toy
clutched tightly. "Doge."
Karen smiles gently. "Yes,
you're getting there," she
says. Chip watches, his
heart in his throat.

"Toy?" Plankton says,
his voice a little
stronger. Dr. Marla
smiles. "Yes, the toy
is helping," she says.
"Keep playing with it."
Plankton nods, his hand
moving slightly as he
flips the fidget toy in
his hand. "Yea," he whispers.

Chip watches his dad,
his own hands still. He's
seen Plankton in tough
situations before, but
never like this. It's like
his mind is a computer
that's been hit by a
virus, trying to reboot
with only basic
functions. "Dad," he
says, his voice filled with
longing. "Can you tell me
what yo-"

But Plankton's gaze
remains unfocused, his
mouth moving slightly.

"Chip," Karen says,
interrupting gently. "Give
him a minute, okay?"
Chip nods, his eyes
still on his father. He
doesn't want to leave, but
he understands. He sits
back, his heart racing as
he watches Plankton's
slow progress.

Plankton's hand
moves, the fidget toy
spinning in his grip.
"Good," he murmurs, his
voice a little stronger.
"Home." The word is a
relief, a sign that he's
coming back to them. Karen
smiles, her eyes filled
with love and concern.
"Would you like to sit up?"
she asks, her voice soft.
Plankton nods, his body
moving in slow motion
as he sits. The curtain is
still up, creating a
small, safe space for him.

Chip watches, scared,
but he's also in awe of his
dad's strength. Plankton,
his hero, who's faced so
much and is still here.
"D-dad," he says, his voice
shaking. "You okay?"
Plankton's eye flicks
to Chip, his mouth
opening slightly. "Yeahhh."
It's a simple word, but
it feels like a lifeline.
"Need?" he whispers,
his voice strained.

Karen nods, her hand
still on his back. "We're
here," she says, her eyes
never leaving him. "We're
always here for you."
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye focusing a little
more. "Th-thank," he
stammers. Chip feels his
heart swell with love.
He's still in there,
his mind just needs 
to recalibrate.

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

SHELF IMPROVEMENT xv
(Autistic author)

Karen's heart
breaks a little more 
with each word.

"Chip, please,"
she says, her voice 
shaking. "Your dad 
doesn't mean to be..."

But Chip's anger
has taken over. "Dad
you just touched me!
So I think at this point,
you don't get to tell me
what to do!" he yells,
his voice a mix of
pain and anger as he
once again pokes Plankton.

This time, Plankton's
response is explosive.
He jumps off the bed,
his antennae flaring with
fury. "DO. NOT. TOUCH. ME!"
he roars, his voice
booming in the confines
of the room. The 
power behind his
words sends a shiver down
Karen's spine.

"Chip, stop it," Karen 
says, her voice 
firm. "Your dad's 
autism makes him 
sensitive to touch 
right now. You know 
this."

But Chip is beyond 
reason, his own 
pain fueling his 
actions. He 
pokes at Plankton 
again, his eyes 
filled with anger.

Plankton's antennae 
quiver, his 
body tight as a 
spring. "Don't," he 
warns, his voice 
low and dangerous. 
But Chip doesn't 
listen.

He reaches out 
once more, his 
finger poised 
like a dart.
Karen can 
see the internal 
battle raging 
behind that one 
word, the need for 
his personal space 
and the fear of 
what could happen 
if it's violated.

The moment 
Chip's finger makes 
contact with 
his arm, Plankton's
unable to take 
much more.

With a 
whimper that 
sounds like 
the sigh, 
he crumples back
onto his bed as
his eye rolls 
back in his 
head. His 
body convulses 
once, twice, and 
then stills as his
eye closes.

Karen's seen 
this before, but 
the sight of 
it never gets 
easier. She rushes 
to Plankton's side.

"Daddy!" Chip's 
voice cracks, 
his anger 
dissolving into 
fear. "Mom!"

Karen's eyes 
widen as she 
sees Plankton's
body go limp. She
quickly assesses 
his condition, 
seeing the signs 
of a meltdown 
turning into a 
full-blown shutdown.

"Mom?" Chip's 
voice is shaky, 
his anger now 
replaced with 
fear. "What's 
happening?"

Karen's heart 
is racing as she 
gently cradles 
Plankton's head. 
"It's okay," she 
soothes, her voice 
calm but filled 
with urgency. "He's 
just overwhelmed."

Chip stands 
frozen, his hand 
still in midair. 
The reality of what 
his words have 
caused crashes 
over him like a 
wave, soaking him 
in guilt. "Dad?"
he whispers, his voice
tiny and scared.

Karen's eyes 
meet Chip's, 
full of pain. 
"I'll take care 
of your father," she 
says, her voice 
steady despite the 
tears threatening to 
fall. "Why don't 
you go to your 
room?" She nods 
towards the door.

Chip nods, 
his eyes never 
leaving Plankton's 
still form. He 
backs out of the 
room, the weight 
of his guilt 
following him like 
a shadow. The door 
clicks shut behind 
him, leaving 
Karen alone with 
Plankton.

The silence 
is heavy, the air 
charged with the 
residue of their 
outburst. Karen 
pulls the blankets 
up to Plankton's 
chin.

"You're okay," she 
whispers, her voice 
barely audible over 
his shallow 
breaths. She runs 
her hand over his 
forehead, soothing 
his antennae.

Plankton's body 
shudders under her 
touch, his mind 
reeling from the 
sensory assault.

"You're okay," 
Karen repeats, her 
voice a gentle 
lullaby in the 
storm of Plankton's 
thoughts. She 
continues to stroke 
his antennae, 
trying to ground 
him.

Plankton's 
eyelid flickers, 
his mind slowly 
coming back to 
his surroundings. The 
weight of his 
exhaustion is like a 
heavy blanket, 
smothering him.

"Chip," Karen says, 
her voice tight with 
worry. "Come 
back in. I need 
you to see this."

Chip's eyes 
are red from crying, 
but he obeys, 
his gaze 
falling on his 
father's still 
form.

"Look at him," 
Karen says, her 
voice thick 
with emotion. 
"This is what your 
words did."

Chip's eyes 
fill with horror 
as he looks at 
his father's form. 
"Dad," he whispers, 
his hand reaching 
out tentatively.

But Plankton 
doesn't react, 
his mind shut down.

Karen's eyes 
are filled with 
despair, watching 
her husband, her 
partner, her best 
friend, trapped 
in his own 
overwhelmed world. "Oh, 
Plankton," she whispers, 
her voice shaking 
with concern.

Chip's hand 
hangs in the air, 
his heart racing. He 
doesn't know what 
to do.

"He's in a 
shutdown," Karen 
explains, her voice 
calm but 
strained. "It's like 
his brain has 
turned off to 
protect itself."

Chip's hand 
drops to his side, 
his eyes never 
leaving his 
father's 
motionless body. 
"But why?" he 
asks, his voice 
small and scared.

Karen sighs, 
exhaustion etching 
lines into her face. 
"It's his autism, 
Chip. It's like 
his brain's way of 
saying 'I can't handle
any more'." She 
swipes at her 
own tears, trying to 
keep her voice 
steady. "When the 
stimulation gets 
to be too much, his 
body just...shuts down."

Chip looks at 
his dad, his 
heart heavy with 
regret. "But I didn't 
know it would be 
this bad," he says, 
his voice barely above 
a whisper. "I just 
wanted to be heard."

Karen nods, her 
eyes never leaving 
Plankton's. "I know, 
sweetheart," she 
says. "But you 
see, your dad's 
brain works 
differently than 
yours or mine." She 
takes a deep 
breath, choosing 
her words 
carefully. "When 
there's too much 
noise, or too many 
people, or even just 
too much 
expectation," she 
pauses, her hand 
still stroking 
his antennae, "it can be 
like someone's 
turned the volume 
up too high, and 
everything just 
becomes too much."

Chip sighs. 
"But why did we 
have to leave?" he 
asks, his voice 
small and lost.

Karen looks at 
Plankton, his 
body still 
shaky from 
his meltdown. 
"The science fair 
was too much for 
Daddy," she says 
gently. "You know 
how I said he
overwhelms easy?"

Chip nods, 
his eyes 
glued to the 
floor.

"At the science 
fair, Daddy had a 
kind of seizure," 
Karen explains, 
trying to keep 
her voice steady. 
"It's like his brain 
got too full of 
information and 
it couldn't process 
it all. To many
people were talking
all at once." She pauses, 
swallowing the lump 
in her throat. "It's 
not that he didn't 
want to be there 
for you, Chip. It's 
that his body 
simply couldn't handle 
it."

Chip's eyes 
widen with 
understanding. 
"But he looked 
normal," he says, 
his voice tinged 
with doubt. "He
didn't..."

Karen sighs, 
taking Chip's hand.
"It's not like a 
normal seizure," she 
explains. "It's 
called an absence
seizure. He's 
semiconscious but 
his mind kind of...
leaves him 
for a moment."

Chip nods 
slowly, 
his eyes 
focused on 
Plankton's face. 
"But why was 
he so mad at me?"

Karen looks 
at her son, 
her heart 
aching for 
both of them. 
"It was just 
his brain's way of 
dealing with 
the overload. And
when you kept
poking him and
blaming him," she
sighs, her eyes
filling with tears,
"it just added to 
his stress. He's just...
overwhelmed."

Chip stares 
at the floor, 
his eyes wide 
with guilt. 
"I didn't mean 
to," he whispers. 
"I just wanted 
you to be proud 
of me."

Karen's heart 
aches for her 
son. She knows 
his intentions 
were pure, but 
the impact of 
his words was 
like a bomb 
exploding in 
Plankton's mind. 
"I know, Chip," 
she says gently. "But 
sometimes, we 
have to think about 
how our words affect 
others, especially 
when someone's going 
through something 
as hard as your dad. Now
it's getting late; we could
all use some rest."

Chip nods, his 
throat tight with 
unshed tears. He 
kisses Plankton's 
forehead, his heart 
heavy with regret. 
"I'm sorry, Dad," he 
whispers, his voice 
cracking. "I'll do 
better."

Karen watches 
as her son 
backs out of the 
room, the weight 
of the evening's 
events weighing 
heavily on his 
small shoulders. She 
wishes she could 
take away his pain, 
his guilt.

Turning back 
to Plankton, 
she gets in 
his line of sight 
and speaks softly.
"Plankton, honey, 
are you awake..."

His single 
eye opens 
slightly, a 
tiny slit in 
his otherwise 
still form. "Yes,"
he whispers, his 
voice hoarse with 
fatigue.

Karen's 
heart clenches 
with relief. 
"How are you 
feeling?" she 
asks, her voice 
gentle.

Plankton's 
eye flickers, 
his antennae 
barely moving. 
"Tired," he 
whispers.

Karen nods, 
understanding. "I'll
be right here," she 
promises, her 
voice a gentle 
caress. 

new shelf improvement familycore xv

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 21

The room is quiet,
except for the soft
whir of the fidget toy.
Plankton's breathing
evened out, his eye
focusing on the spinning
discs. "More?" he asks,
his voice a whisper.
Karen nods, her heart
swelling with pride.
"You're doing so well,"
she says, her voice
gentle. "We're here for
you." Chip's eyes are
wet, but he nods in
agreement. He wants
to hug his dad, but
he knows Plankton needs
his space right now.

Plankton's hand shakes
as he holds the fidget
toy, his gaze fixed
on it. "Ma-more?" he
asks again, his voice
still a whisper. Dr.
Marla nods, reaching
for a weighted blanket.
"Let's try this," she
suggests, her tone calm.
Karen helps drape it
over him, the heavy
material grounding him.
"Ma-make it," he says,
his voice slightly
stronger. Chip's heart
leaps at the sound. "Make
what?" he asks, his voice
eager.

But Plankton can't
quite articulate. He
just shakes his head,
his eye squeezed shut.
"M-make," he repeats,
his frustration clear.
Karen nods, her hand
on his shoulder. "We
know you can," she says.
"Ma-make it st-sto-"
He stammers, his
body trembling with
the effort of speech.
"Ma-make it stop," he
whispers, his voice
breaking. His gaze
meets Chip's, desperation
in his eye.

Chip looks up at the
therapist, his eyes
pleading for guidance.
"What do we do?"
Dr. Marla nods, her
expression calm. "Just
keep talking to him," she
instructs. "Use simple
words, and let him
know you're here."

So Chip does, his voice
softer than ever. "Dad,
we're with you." 
Karen's eyes are wet, but
she smiles encouragingly.
"You're doing so good,"
she says, her voice
barely above a murmur.

Plankton's hand clutches
the blanket, his breath
coming in quick gasps.
"Ma-make," he says again,
his voice strained.
"Ma-make it sto-"

Karen nods, her voice
soothing. "You're
doing so well, sweetie,"
she says. "Keep going."
Chip watches, his eyes
filled with hope.
"Ma-make it qui-et,"
Plankton whispers, his
body still trembling.

The therapist nods,
understanding. "Let's
turn down the lights,"
she suggests, her voice
calm. Karen nods and
moves to the switch, the
room plunging into a
soft glow. "Ma-more?"
Plankton whispers.
"Ma-make it qui-et,"
he repeats, his hand
flapping slightly. Karen's
heart aches, but she
nods. "We're here," she
says, her voice steady.

Chip looks around, his
thoughts racing. "How-
how do we do that?"
he asks, his voice
shaking. Dr. Marla
smiles gently. "Just talk
to him," she says. "Keep
your words simple, and
use a sensory toy to help."

So Chip picks up
a small, squishy ball,
its surface covered
in bumps. "Dad," he
says, his voice soft.
"Look." Plankton's eye
sluggishly turns to the
toy. "Ball," Chip says,
his voice clear. Plankton's
gaze flicks to the
therapist, then back to
Chip, his mouth
moving slightly. "Bah,"
he tries, his voice
barely a whisper. It's a
start, a tentative step
forward in understanding.

The therapist nods.
"Good," she says. "Keep
trying." Plankton's hand
reaches out, his grip
weak. Chip places the
ball in his palm, and
his dad's eye light up
slightly. "Bowl," he says,
his voice a little
stronger. It's a simple
word, but it feels like a
breakthrough.

Chip nods, a smile
spreading across his
face. "Ball," he repeats,
his voice encouraging.
"Ball," Plankton says,
his tongue wrapping
around the word
slightly. "Ball." It's a
small victory, but it's
enough to make Chip's
heart soar. He picks up
another toy, a plush
octopus. "Dad, look,"
he says, his voice
trembling. "Octo."
Plankton's gaze
shifts, his antennae
twitching slightly. "Ah-
pple," he says, his voice
confused. "No," Chip says
gently, taking the octopus.
"This is octo. Octo." He
shakes it slightly, the
legs flailing. "See?"

Plankton's eye widens
slightly, his mouth
forming an "o." "Ah-
tto," he whispers. It's not
perfect, but it's a start.
Karen's hand squeezes
his shoulder. "Good
job, Plankton," she says,
her voice filled with
relief. The therapist
smiles, her eyes
observing them both. "Keep
going," she says. "This
is great progress."

Chip holds up the
octopus closer to
him. "But-but," 
Plankton murmurs.
Karen smiles. "You 
can do it." Plankton's
hands are still, his gaze
locked on the octopus.
"Octo," Chip says again.

Plankton's eye blinks
slowly, his mouth
moving. "Ah-tto," he 
tries again, his voice
slightly louder. Chip's
heart skips a beat. 
"No," he says gently.
"Octo." He waves the
toy in front of him.
"Octo." Plankton's antennae
twitch, his mouth
forming the word.
"Octo," he repeats, his
voice stronger. Chip
can't help the grin that
spreads across his face.

"Good," Dr. Marla says,
nodding. "Keep working
together." Karen's hand
squeezes Chip's shoulder,
pride in her eyes. Plankton
holds the octopus, his hand
still shaking. "Ma-make
it sp-spin?" he asks, his
voice hopeful. Chip nods,
his hand steady. He
spins one of the octopus's
arms. "Spin," he says.

Plankton's eye follows the
spinning arm, his gaze
focused. "Spin," he whispers,
his tongue working the
word. "Spin." His voice
grows stronger, the word
becoming more than just a
sound. "Spin," he says,
his hand tentatively reaching
for an arm. "Mo-
re," he whispers, his
hand reaching out. Karen
smiles encouragingly. "Good
job," she says. "Keep
talking to us."

Chip nods, his heart
racing. He holds up
another toy, a shiny
spinner. "Dad," he says,
his voice hopeful. "See
this?" Plankton's antennae
twitch. "Spin?" he asks,
his voice a question.
"Yes," Chip says, his
voice steady. "Spin." He
flips the spinner, watching
the colors blur.

Plankton's eye follows
the movement, his mouth
opening slightly. "Clis,"
he whispers, his voice
barely audible. Karen
smiles, her eyes shining.
"Keep going," she says.
"You're doing so well."

Chip nods, his hand
steadier. "Dad, watch,"
he says, his voice filled
with hope. He picks
up a small, plush star,
its material soft and
comforting. "Look," he
says, his voice clear.
"This is star." Plankton's
eye flicks to the toy,
his hand reaching out. "Sta,"
he tries, his tongue
sluggish. Chip nods, his
heart racing. "Yes," he
whispers. "Star."

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 22

Karen watches, her eyes
glistening. "Keep
going," she says, her
voice filled with
admiration. Plankton
fumbles with the star,
his hand shaking. "Sta,"
he whispers again, his
voice stronger. "Sta."
The therapist smiles.
"This is excellent," she
says. "Keep up the good
work." Chip's eyes are
on his dad, his mind
racing with ideas for
more words.

"D-dad," Chip says,
his voice gentle. "Look
at me." Plankton's
gaze shifts to Chip,
his eye unfocused.
"Look at me." Plankton's
eye narrows slightly,
his antennae twitching.
Karen's hand strokes
his shoulder. "Come
back to us," she says.
"Ma-make it... Ma-make
it... qui-et?" he whispers.

The therapist nods.
"Good job," she says,
smiling. "Keep focusing
on the toy." Chip
holds the star closer.
"This is... star," he says,
his voice calm. Plankton's
eye follows the toy,
his hand reaching out.
"Sta," he murmurs. "Yes,"
Karen says, her voice
soothing. "It's a star."
Plankton's hand
closes around the
star, his grip firm. "Sta,"
he repeats, his voice
growing stronger.

Chip feels his heart
swell with hope. He
picks up a small, plush
dolphin. "Dad," he says,
his voice clear. "Look."
Plankton's gaze shifts,
his hand still shaking.
"Dolf," he says, his voice
slurred. Chip nods. "Yes,
it's a dolphin. Can you say
dolphin?" Plankton tries, his
mouth moving slightly.
"Dolf," he whispers. Chip's
face lights up. "Yes,"
he says, his voice filled
with excitement. "Dolf."

The therapist smiles,
seeing the progress.
"Keep it up," she says.
"You're both doing
wonderfully." Plankton's
hand clutches the dolphin,
his gaze unfocused.
Karen's heart aches, but
she knows this is a step
forward. "You're doing
so good," she says.

Chip nods, his eyes
on his dad. "More?"
he asks. Plankton's eye
flicks to him, his mouth
opening slightly. "Ma-make?"
he whispers. Karen's
hand squeezes his shoulder.
"What else would
you like?" Plankton's hand
shakes, the dolphin
dropping to the floor.
"Ma-make it... K-Karen.
Neeeed Karen!"

Karen's eyes fill
with tears, but she
smiles, her voice gentle.
"I'm right here," she
says, moving closer.
"Yo--"

Plankton's body jerks
slightly, his gaze
shifting to her. "Ka,"
he whispers, his voice
a plea as tears stream
down his face. Karen's
heart breaks, but she
smiles. "I'm here," she says,
her voice a lifeline.
"Karen," he repeats,
his hand reaching out
but not recognizing her.

Karen takes his hand,
her eyes never leaving
his. "You're okay,"
she whispers, her voice
soothing. "I'm right
here." Plankton's eye
lock onto hers, his tears
falling harder. "Karen,"
he says again, his voice
a desperate whimper.

Chip watches, his heart
wrenched. He's never
seen his dad like this,
so vulnerable and lost.
He picks up the dolphin,
his hand trembling. "Dad,"
he says, his voice gentle.
"This is do-"

But Plankton's cry
interrupts him, his
body trembling. "Karen!"
he sobs, his hand reaching
for her. Karen takes
his hand, her eyes
filled with love. "You're
right here," she whispers.
"I'm right here with yo-"

But Plankton's cries
grow louder, his grip
on her hand tightening.
"Karen! Need Karen!" His
eye is wild, his body
shaking uncontrollably.
Karen's heart aches as
she tries to calm him,
her voice steady. "You
have me," she says. "I'm
right here." But he's lost
in his own world, his
fear overwhelming his
senses.

"Karen," he sobs, his
voice breaking. Chip's
heart is in his throat, his
hands clutching the
dolphin toy tightly. He's
never seen his dad so
desperate, so lost. The
therapist, Dr. Marla,
watches them, her eyes
knowledgeable. "It's
okay," she says, her
voice calm. "This is part
of the process." But Chip
can't help feeling
helpless, his mind racing
to find a way to reach
his dad.

Karen's eyes never
leave Plankton's as she
speaks to him gently. "You
have me," she repeats,
her voice a lullaby. "I'm
right here." Plankton's
grip on her hand is
crushing, his sobs
becoming more
desperate. "Karen! Ka-
ren!" he cries, his body
wracked with tremors.
Karen's eyes fill with
determination. "I know
you're scared," she whispers.
"But I'm here. You're sa-"

Her words are cut
off by another sob from
Plankton. Chip feels his
heart tear in two, watching
his father's agony. "Dad,"
he says, his voice shaking.
"We're here." But Plankton's
gaze remains unfocused,
his mind lost in a
whirlwind of overstimulation.

Karen's eyes are wet,
but she keeps talking,
keeping her voice steady.
"You're okay," she says,
her hand stroking his
back. "You're safe." Plankton's
body convulses, his cries
escalating. "Karen!" he
wails, his voice raw.
"Need Karen!"

The therapist nods
at Karen, her gaze
compassionate. "Keep
going," she whispers. "This
is a breakthrough."
Karen's voice is a beacon
in the storm. "You have
me," she repeats. "You
have us."

Plankton's cries
turn into sobs, his
body convulsing with the
force of his emotions.
Karen's hand remains
steady on his back, her
heart breaking for him.
"You're okay," she
soothes, her voice a gentle
wave of comfort. "We're
right he--"

But Plankton's panic
doesn't abate. "Karen!"
he cries out, his voice
shattered. "Need Karen!"
Chip feels his own tears
burn his cheeks as he
watches his father's pain.
"Dad," he whispers, his
voice trembling. "You're
not alone." But Plankton's
eye is wild, his mind a
tempest of fear and
overwhelming stimuli.

Karen leans in, her
face close to his. "Look
at me," she says, her
voice firm but gentle.
"You're safe with me."
Plankton's gaze shifts,
his sobs quivering his
body. "Safe? If with Karen
safe.."

Karen's hand moves to
his cheek, her thumb
wiping away a tear.
"Look at me," she says
again, her voice a soft
command. "You're okay."

new dare to be different sensoryoverloadcore marla

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 17
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ 
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ 
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. 
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ 
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ 
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ 
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ

Karen's eyes are filled with love
and understanding. Plankton
slowly nods, his antennae dropping.
"I'm sorry," Chip says, his voice
barely a whisper.

But Plankton's antennae shoot
up, his eye cold. "You need to go,"
he says, his voice firm. Chip's screen
flickers with hurt. "What?"
he asks, his voice shaking.
Plankton's gaze is unyielding.
"I don't want you here," he says.
"Not right now." His words are like
a dagger to Chip's heart, but
Karen's screens flicker with a
message of patience. "Dad, what
do you mea-"

But Plankton cuts him off,
his antennae rigid. "I mean it,"
he says, his voice hard. "I don't
want you here." Chip's screen
reflects confusion and pain.
He doesn't understand. "But why?"
he asks. "We're fa-"

"Don't," Plankton says, his voice
sharp. "Don't pretend to care."
His eye is cold, his antennae
quivering with anger. "You made
fun of me. You think my world
is a joke." Chip's screen flickers
with confusion and guilt. "Dad,
no," he says, his voice shaking. "That's
not what I meant." But Plankton's
not listening, his words cutting
through the air like shards of
glass. "You think you know," he says,
his voice rising. "But you don't. You
can't. You're not like me."

Karen's screens are a
swirl of emotions, her heart
aching for both her son and
her husband. "Plankton, please,"
she says, her voice a gentle
plea. But he's not listening.
He's too lost in his own
hurt, his own frustration.
"You think you can just play
along?" he says, turning to Chip.
"You think it's that easy?"
Chip's screen shows his fear
growing, his mind racing. He didn't
mean to hurt his dad, but now
he feels like he's being pushed
away. "Dad, I'm sorry," he says,
his voice barely a whisper. "I just
made a mis-"

"Mistake? Hah. The only
mistake was thinking
you could ever understand!"
Plankton's words are a harsh
reminder of their earlier
misunderstanding. Chip's screen
reflects his hurt, his eyes
filling with tears. "You think
you can just pretend?"
Plankton continues, his voice
bitter. "You think you know what
it's like to be me?" His antennae
wave wildly in accusation.

Chip's voice is barely a squeak.
"I just wanted to help, Dad,"
he says, his screen a jumble
of sadness and confusion.
"But you didn't," Plankton
says, his voice cold. "You 
hurt me. And I can't just
shake it off." Karen's screens
flicker with pain for her husband,
but she knows Plankton's anger
is a shield, a way to protect
his tender heart.

"You don't get it," Plankton
continues, his antennae jutting
forward. "You think you can
just pretend to understand?"
His words are a knife in the dark,
twisting in Chip's gut. "Dad,"
Chip says, his voice trembling.
"I'm sorry. I'll do better. I'll
learn." But Plankton's eye
narrows, his antennae waving.
"It's not about you," he says,
his voice harsh. "It's never been.
You don't get to cry victim. I can
forgive accidentally touching me
and such, but this... I can't.
I saw you mocking me. I heard you
laughing." Chip's eyes widen.
"No," he says, his voice desperate.
"I didn't mean t---"

But Plankton's not listening.
"You think because you're sorry,
everything's okay and 
make it go away? You don't
get to decide that," he says, his voice
shaking. "You don't get to tell me
how I feel. Because right now, you
don't understand a thing. You're
not a part of this. You're not
being a good son. And I don't
think I can trust you."

The words hit Chip like a wave,
his screen flashing with disbelief.
He feels like he's drowning,
his mind racing for a way to
make it right. "Dad, I'm sorry,"
he says again, his voice choked
with tears. "I'll do anything.
I'll learn, I'll change." But
Plankton's antennae droop, his
body defeated. "It's too late,"
he murmurs. "You had your
chance. But honestly, I don't think
you'll ever be the son I need."

Karen's screens pulse with pain,
seeing the rift between
them grow wider. She knows
how much Plankton values trust,
how hard it is for him to give it
once it's been shattered.

Chip's screen flickers with
desperation. "Dad, I'll be here," 
he begs, whimpering. "I'll try anyth—"

But Plankton's antennae are
rigid with finality. "No," he says,
his voice barely above a whisper.
"I now know better than to let
you in again. I hoped we'd be 
closer, but now I... I don't think
you belong in my life, Chip."

The words hang in the air,
each one heavier than the last.
Chip's screen is a whirlwind
of emotions: guilt, sadness,
fear. "Dad," he says, his voice
a broken plea. "Please, I'll do
better. I promise." But Plankton's
gaze is unyielding. "I'm letting go
Chip. We're done now. You'll never
be the son I adored again. You
failed to accept me, so I won't
accept your façade. So good
bye, Chip. I hope you find peace.."
Plankton then turns around, leaving
Karen and Chip in the living room
as he walked down the hall.
Chip's eyes are wide with shock,
his screen flickering with tears.

Karen's screens dim with sadness
as she looks at her son. "Chip,"
she says, her voice gentle. "It's not
you. It's just his way of coping."
But Chip's not listening. He's
thinking about the moments
his dad's eyes had lit up, the
times Plankton had laughed,
his antennae waving with joy.
And now, it's gone, replaced by
a coldness that scares him.

He tries to imagine what it's like
for Plankton, to live in a world
that's too loud, too bright, too
much. A world where even the
smallest touch can send him spiraling.
Where every interaction is a minefield
of misunderstandings. And he wonders
how he could have missed the signs.
How could he have hurt his father so
much without even realizing it?

new autism and all familycore chip

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 8

Chip's eyes 
well up, his 
body shaking.
He doesn't 
understand why
his dad is so 
angry with him. 
He thought he
was just trying
to help.

"Dad, please," 
he whispers, his 
voice thick with 
unshed tears.
"I just wan–"

"NO!" Plankton 
shouts, pushing 
his son away.
Plankton's sobs 
turn to heavy 
breaths. Karen 
watches them both, 
her heart breaking.

Chip's eyes 
brim with tears 
as he retreats, 
his voice barely 
a whisper. "But Dad..."

Plankton turns to 
his side, his 
back facing Chip, 
his antennae 
thrashing violently. 
"I'M TRYING!" He 
screams into the 
silent room. Chip
then makes the
mistake of putting
his hand on his
dad's shoulder.
"Don't touch me!"
Plankton shrieks,
his body jolting.

The room seems to
shrink around
them, the tension 
pressing down 
like a heavy
wet blanket. 
Chip feels a 
wave of fear wash 
over him. He's
seen his dad upset
before, but 
never like this.

He moves his 
hand away, his 
throat tight. "I'm
so sor—"

"I SAID, DON'T 
TOUCH ME!" 
Plankton's scream 
reverberates through 
the room, echoing 
off the walls as his
sobbing turns 
to anger, his 
body stiff as 
he glares at Chip.

Chip jumps back, 
his heart racing.
He's never seen 
his dad like this, 
so out of control.
He looks to Karen,
his eyes wide with 
fear. "What's happe—"

"Chip," she says 
quickly, her voice 
sharp with urgency. 
"Give him some 
space. Now." She 
moves closer to 
Plankton, her hand
outstretched but 
not touching, giving
him the option.

Chip nods, his 
face crumpled with 
hurt and confusion.
He retreats to his 
own bed, his 
eyes on the floor.
The room feels like 
it's closing in on 
them, the silence
deafening. Plankton's
sobs turn to 
angry grunts as 
his breaths become
more pronounced.

Karen sits next 
to Plankton, her 
hand hovering near
his, but not 
touching. "It's okay,
babe," she whispers.
"We're here." Plankton's
body tenses further.
"I DON'T NEED 
CHIP'S HELP!" He 
doesn't wanna lash
out, yet Karen knows
he needs to let out
the storm inside. She
can feel the energy
building in Plankton,
his body a coil 
ready to snap.

With a sudden 
explosion of rage, 
Plankton yells, 
"I'M THE ONE 
WITH A PROBLEM‽"
Plankton's limbs
flail erratically, 
his voice hoarse 
from screaming. 
Karen's heart 
aches for him, 
for the pain he's 
in, the pain he 
can't express in 
any other way.
She needs to
redirect his energy.

"Plankton," she says
firmly, her hand 
still hovering 
just out of 
reach. "Take a 
deep breath." 
But Plankton's 
too far gone.

He starts to kick 
the bed, the 
mattress shaking 
as his body 
thrashes. Karen
flinches, but 
doesn't move as
the tantrum 
intensifies, his 
tiny fists 
slamming into 
the mattress.

Karen's eyes 
are wide, her 
body tense, but 
she remains calm, 
knowing that 
this is part 
of his coping 
mechanism.

He kicks the 
bed harder, 
his fists 
clenching the 
covers. Yet
Karen remains 
steady, her voice 
calm and firm. "Hey,
look at me," she 
instructs, her hand 
still hovering. "Take
a deep breath with me."
He doesn't move, 
his fists clenched 
in the sheets. 
Her voice doesn't
waver. "In and out, 
babe. In and ou-"

Suddenly, Plankton's 
body goes rigid. 
He inhales deeply, 
his antennae 
shaking with the 
effort. His 
eye snaps to hers, 
his breath hitching.

For a moment, 
there's silence. 
Karen holds her 
breath, noticing he's
gonna have one of
his seizures. Then
as Chip comes back
through the curtain
Plankton starts 
to shake as it
finally took over.
Karen tucks Plankton
in loosely.

"Dad?" Chip asks, 
his voice shaking.
Karen's eyes dart 
to him, filled with
the knowledge that
he's gonna be fine.
"It's ok Chip," she 
whispers. "Just watch
from here." 

Plankton's body 
shakes harder, 
his breaths coming 
in short bursts. 
He's lost in a 
world of sensory
overload, his 
body reacting to 
the chaos around 
him. Karen strokes 
his arm gently.
"It's ok, Plankton,"
she whispers. "We
are right here."

The seizure 
lasts for a few
moments, and as 
it now subsides, 
Plankton's body 
goes limp with
exhaustion. Karen
knew his postictal
phase can bring on
some loopiness.

Plankton's antennae
twitch erratically,
his eye unfocused.
He giggles, a sound
so unlike his usual
self. "Karen? Oh!
You're so...shiny."
Karen can't help but
smile at her husband's
post-seizure loopy state.
"Yes, I'm right here,"
she says.

Chip's eyes are 
wide with worry,
his voice a tremble.
"Is he okay?"

Karen nods, her 
smile tinged with 
sadness. "He's 
in his post-
seizure phase. It's
normal for him to 
be like this."

Plankton giggles again,
his voice slurred as he
tries to sit up, his 
body wobbly. "I'm 
fine, I'm fine," he 
mutters. He then 
reaches for Karen,
his hand missing
by a mile.

Chip watches, his 
heart racing. He's 
seen his dad act weird 
before, but never 
like this..

"It's part of his 
autism, Chip," Karen 
explains gently, her 
hands steady. "After a 
big meltdown or usually a 
seizure, he can get 
disoriented." Plankton's
head lolls to the 
side, his antennae
twitching erratically.

"You're...so...far
away..." He giggles,
his body swaying 
slightly with the 
effort of speech.

Karen takes his
hand, her eyes 
understanding.
"You're fine."

Plankton's hand
shakes in hers, his
eye half-closed. 
"No, no, I wanna...
play." He giggles 
again, his body 
lurching forward.

Karen sighs.
"I wanna go on 
an adventure,"
he slurs, his 
body listing to 
one side.
Karen tightens her 
grip on his hand, 
keeping him grounded.
"We can go on 
an adventure later,
babe," she promises. 
"For now, let's just 
get some sleep. It's
bedtime for all of us!"

Plankton's giggles 
turn into a 
snore, his body
going limp. 
Karen gently 
guides him to lie 
down, his breathing
evening out. 
She covers him 
with the blanket, 
his antennae 
twitching slightly.

new adaptable family sensoryoverloadcore overloadcore

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱
𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌
part 5

Chip approached tentatively,
his hand still gripping the
octopus. "Hey Dad," he said,
his voice gentle. "It's okay.
Can you say 'octopus'?"
Plankton looked up. "Oc-
-topus," he repeated, the word
coming out as a garbled mess.
Chip couldn't help but chuckle
despite the gravity of the situation.
It was strange to see his
dad, the master of words,
stumble over something so simple.

"Good job, Dad," Chip said,
his voice filled with affectionate
pride. "Again," he encouraged.
"Oc-top-us," Plankton managed,
his speech slightly clearer.
Chip nodded, a soft laugh escaping.
"That's it. The octopus wanted
us to play together. Do you want
to play?"

Plankton looked at the
stuffed octopus in Chip's hand,
his expression still foggy. "Is?"
he murmured, his eye moving
slightly. "Is."

Chip nodded, a small smile
tugging at the corners of his
mouth despite the sadness
in his heart. "Yeah, Dad. It's ok."
He held out the octopus.
"This is the octopus. He's
here to see you."

Plankton's gaze focused
on the octopus, his hand
reaching out to touch it.
"Octopus," he repeated, his
tongue struggling with the
word. "Octo...pus." More
drool pooled in the corner of
his mouth as he tried again.

Karen watched the
interaction, her heart
swelling with hope. Maybe,
just maybe, this could be a
moment of bonding for
them, a chance for Chip to
see his father in a new
light. "Keep going," she
whispered encouragingly.

Chip held out the octopus
further. "Dad, remember?"
he prompted gently. "We
talked about the octopus."
Plankton's hand grasped the
toy despite his confusion.
He stared at the tentacles,
his mind racing with a jumble
of thoughts that he couldn't
quite articulate. "Wh-wh-what?"
he stuttered, his gaze unfocused.

"It's okay," Chip assured,
his voice soothing. "You're okay."
He began to make the octopus
wave its tentacles around playfully.
"Look, he wants to be friends."

Plankton stared at the octopus
for a moment, his brain trying
to catch up to the situation.
"F-friends," he mumbled,
his mouth twitching into a smile.
He watched as the octopus's
tentacles danced in the air,
and then his own hand started
to mimic the movement.
"F-f-friends," he repeated,
his voice gaining a bit of its
usual lilt.

Chip's heart swelled with
relief. He had never seen
his father like this before,
and it was both terrifying
and endearing. He knew his
dad was still in there, trying
to come back to reality.
"That's right," he said, his
tone gentle. "We're all friends
here." He waved the octopus
again, and Plankton's hand
followed suit, the two of
them playing a silent game
of copycat.

Karen watched, her
eyes misty with tears. It was
both heartbreaking and
oddly sweet to see her husband
like this, vulnerable and child-
like in his confusion. But she
knew they needed to keep
the conversation simple
for Plankton's sake. "Chip,
ask him about the bear,"
she suggested, her voice
barely above a whisper.

Chip nodded, turning his
attention back to the bear.
"Dad, remember the bear?"
he asked, his voice gentle.
Plankton's gaze flickered to
the plush animal in his hand.
"Be-be-be-" he started, his
tongue tripping over the word.
Chip waited patiently, giving
his dad the space he needed
to find his voice. "Bear,"
Plankton finally managed, his
expression lighting up. "Good bear."

Karen's heart swelled at
the sight of the two of
them playing, her son's
innocence and her husband's
vulnerability a stark contrast.
Plankton's hand movements grew
more animated, his speech still
slurred but gaining clarity. "Bear...good,"
he said again, giggling. "Bear
making octo happy."

Chip couldn't help but laugh
at the nonsensical words. "Yeah,
Dad, the bear's making everyone
happy." He watched as Plankton's
hands danced with the octopus's
tentacles, the bear bobbing up and
down in the air. It was a sight
that would have been comical
under different circumstances, and
Karen knew Plankton would normally
feel humiliated at his inability to
speak coherently. But in that moment,
his confusion seemed almost endearing.

"Bear, octo, happy," Plankton
repeated, his words slurring
together into a loop. It was
like listening to a broken record,
his brain stuck on the same phrase.
Karen bit her lip, trying not to
smile at the absurdity of it all.
"Good, Plankton," she said, her voice
soft. "Keep playing with the bear."

Chip's eyes were glued to
his father, a mix of fascination
and concern. He had never seen
Plankton so out of sorts, his usual
sharp wit replaced by babbling
nonsense. "Look, Dad," he said,
his tone gentle. "The octopus is
dancing with the bear."

Plankton's eye lit up with a
childlike wonder as he watched
the two stuffed animals interact.
He giggled, a sound that was
both sweet and slightly eerie
coming from his normally serious
demeanor. "Dance," he mumbled,
his hand moving the bear in a
clumsy imitation of the octopus's
wavy tentacles. "Dance, bear."

The scene was almost comical,
like a surreal play performed
by a pair of silent puppets.
Karen and Chip exchanged
glances, their smiles tinged
with sadness. They knew this
wasn't the Plankton they were used
to, but they couldn't help but
be drawn into his bizarre world
of confusion and simple joy.

"Octo, bear, friends," Plankton
repeated, his voice gaining
slightly in clarity. His hands
worked in unison, the octopus
and bear engaged in a silent,
stuffed dance of sorts. Karen
notices his gaze sharpening a
bit and knew Plankton will
soon be himself again.

"Good," she murmured, her eyes
never leaving her husband's
face. "Keep playing, sweetie."
Her voice was soft.

Plankton nodded, his
hands moving more freely now,
his speech slowly becoming
less slurred. "Octo...bear,"
he said, his eye darting between
his octopus and bear.

new bearcore familycore come together

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