Varyxh Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Varyxh Emojis & Symbols ౨ৎ 𓇼 ᡣ𐭩 .° ༘

౨ৎ 𓇼 ᡣ𐭩 .° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ ̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅ ✎ᝰ. ྀི ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ 𓇢𓆸 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ᝰ.ᐟ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆♛*ੈ✩‧₊˚♕𝓥𝐕𓆙

Related Text & Emojis

CHIP AND FAIL xv (Autistic author) "But Dad," Chip began, his voice trembling, when Plankton interrupts. "BUT DAD," Plankton mimics, his voice high-pitched and mocking. "You think you know how I feel, but you have no idea!" Karen stepped back. She knew Plankton needed to express his anger, and Chip needed to learn from it. "Dad, I'm sorry," Chip whispered, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to make it about..." But Plankton's antennae were a flurry of agitation. "You think your stupid need to touch me can just make everything okay? WELL GUESS WHAT, CHIP? IT CAN'T!" He was shouting now, his voice echoing through the room. Chip's eyes filled with hurt. "Dad, I just wanted to tell you about my week," he said, his voice quivering. "I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's just starting. "You think your convenience more important than my comfort?" he snapped. "Dad," Chip says. "I just wanted to be close..." But Plankton's anger was a raging storm. "YOUR VERSION OF CLOSE IS Suffocation!" he yells, his antennae shaking violently. "You're nothing but a child. All you know is your own need for attention, yet you expect me to be fine with your constant poking and prodding?" Chip's cheeks burned with shame. "That's not fair," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm trying to understand..." But Plankton's antennae were a blur of anger. "Understand? You can't even begin to understand what it's like!" he spat. "You live your life in a bubble, Chip. You've always had everything you've ever wanted, and now you want to 'understand' me? And don't come crying about fairness..." "PLEASE Dad..." But Plankton's anger was unstoppable. "You think you're so clever," he sneered with rage. "With your fancy friends and your easy life. You wouldn't know what it's like to have to fight for every little thing." Chip felt the sting. "Dad," he choked out, "That's not..." But Plankton's words were a tidal wave, crashing down. "You're selfish," he accused. "Always thinking of yourself." Now Chip's getting upset. "I'm selfish? At least I'm not the one who's too busy being a drama queen to see how much I care!" he retorts, his voice a mix of pain and anger. Plankton's antennae shot up. "You dare call me that?" he roared. "You have no idea what it's like to drown in sensory overload, to have your brain betray you every single day!" Chip took a step back, his cheeks red with anger. "You think because I don't understand, I don't care?" he yelled back. "You're the one who's never there for me because of your 'condition'! You're just a shallow, spoiled little..." "ENOUGH! Both of you, stop it right now!" Karen says. Her voice cuts through the argument like a knife, silencing the room. She could feel the anger, the frustration, the hurt in each of their voices.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
I V X L C D M 1 5 10 50 100 500 1000 🔢 Individual decimal places Thousands Hundreds Tens Units 1 M C X I 2 MM CC XX II 3 MMM CCC XXX III 4 CD XL IV 5 D L V 6 DC LX VI 7 DCC LXX VII 8 DCCC LXXX VIII 9 CM XC IX
(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ
Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ͙⊹
✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹
.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑
🔎 tap an emoji to copy it long-press to collect multiple emojis ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ ₊˚⊹♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⋆ ˚ ꩜ 。 ⋆୨୧˚ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ₊˚⊹⋆ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ⋆˚✿˖° .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑ ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ 🫧 𓇼 ೀ ‧₊˚✩彡 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ִ ࣪𖤐 ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ ★🎸🎧⋆。 °⋆ 𔘓𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。˚ (๑>◡<๑) ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ .ᐟ ₊ ⊹ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⭒˚。⋆ ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ ✮ ₊˚ෆ 𖦹 -`♡´- /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ જ⁀➴ *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ ㅤ/ᐠ - ˕ -マ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)  ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ ๋࣭ ⭑ ★ ౨ৎ ⋆˙⟡♡ ༘⋆ ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ゚. ೀ⋆。🌷 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 / ⋆ ۪ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ᰔᩚ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆ ೀ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 「 ✦ 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 ✦ 」 ♫₊˚.🎧 ✩。 ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚. ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. 𓀐𓂸Fuck me ˙ᵕ˙ 🪼 ♡ ⟡ ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ 𓇢𓆸 ‹𝟹 ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ ⚝ ✧˖° ☾⋆。𖦹 °✩ ( ≧ᗜ≦) ⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆。° ✮ ✉⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨୧˚ 𔓘 ✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ (,,>﹏<,,) ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ ₊˚⊹꒷ •ﻌ• ✩°。🦦 ୧⍤⃝💐 ๋ ࣭ ⭑ ᵎᵎ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა (>_<) ! -- ✩ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀ (⸝⸝ᴗ﹏ᴗ⸝⸝) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ִ ࣪𖤐 𖦹 ༘⋆⊹ (ㅅ´ ˘ `) *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☆〜(ゝ。∂) "૮₍ •⤙•˶ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。♡˚ (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 "( – ⌓ – ) ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊 `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ꩜ ᥫ᭡ 🌷🧺*:・ ⋆⋆⋆ 。°˖ ʚ🍓ɞ ꒦꒷⩩ ⋆⑅˚₊ ಇ. ★彡 ☆ ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ✧˖°. ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ ༝༚༝༚ ⌗ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚ 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ (๑>؂•̀๑) ❀˖° ▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. 0 ‎♡‧₊˚ ✰ ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ✦ ⋆。˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡ (∩˃o˂∩)♡ ⋆☆ ⊹°˖ ᯤ <𝟑 (╥﹏╥) ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ✧˖🎀 ✧˖° °˖➴ ᝰ 🀦 ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr! ʚɞ 𓇼 🌊 🐚 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ •⩊• (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ ♡⸝⸝ ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა 𖡎 ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) 🦢🩰🎧🪞💌 ⋆♱✮♱⋆ 🍶𓂃⭑ᜊ ࣪˖ ִֶָ ᰔ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 🌷🫧💭 ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ꩜ ⋆⑅˚₊ ༘⋆ ⊹˚. ♡ (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚ ₊˚⊹ ᰔ (。- .•) (。•́︿•̀。) ✶ 🐾 ୨୧ ⭒ (๑ > ᴗ < ๑) ✿ 𓆩♡𓆪 ⭑ ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆ 🩰 ♡ ⁺‧₊˚🧸💌 🦢 ★⋆。˚༘⋆ 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈 ✩°。⋆⸜ 🎧✮ ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 "૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა ⤷ ㅤᵕ̈ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡🍰<3୧⋆ ˚。 ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ ᐟᐟ☆ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ᐟᐟ☆ ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) ᨐฅ 𝄞 ( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。) 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹 ☃︎ ♥︎ ✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩ •ᴗ• 𖤐 ⋆。°✩ 🕸 (๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝* ☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊ ♪ ✧ ૮₍˃̵֊ ˂̵ ₎ა 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 󠀠 (_ _ ) . . z Z ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 🗝☕🕰📜🎞🖋️ ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅ 🎐🫧🦋🧿💠🌀 ˙◠˙ ૮ • ﻌ - ა ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ ☆ ˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ༊·˚ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨୧˚ 𓆉 ੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦ ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ⛥ ❤︎ ⋆˚☆˖° /ᐠ - ˕ -マ 안녕하세요 ‎‧₊˚✧[text]✧˚₊‧ 𓇼 ♡︎ ˎˊ˗ ☾⋆。 𖦹 °✩ ☆.𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𓍊𓋼𓍊.☆ 🍄🍓🧸🧺🪞 (๑-﹏-๑) ≽ܫ≼ ꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱ 。 ゚ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.゚ ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ ☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°。 ⌞ ⌝ ⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ 🗒📃🕯️🧾♡💭☾. 𓆑 ✮ ✮ ✮ ₍ᐢ._.ᐢ₎♡ ༘ ૮₍´。ᵔ ꈊ ᵔ。`₎ა ⪩ ⪨ ε(´。•᎑•`)っ 💕 。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚ ꕤ ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆ (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) ⊹ 🌷🦢・₊✧ 🀣 ૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ༘⋆♡⸝⸝💌⊹。°˖➴ 🫧 (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) ♪ (ó﹏ò。) 𖠋 ⋮ ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა ‎♡‧₊˚˘͈ᵕ˘͈🪴‎┆彡 (¬_¬") 𔘓 ᥫ᭡. ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑ ❀ ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩ 🍓🍰💌🧸 CUM IS YUM🥛 ♡ ̆̈ ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ꩜⭒⋆☾♪ ☽𖤓 ♡ ༘*.゚ ./づ~ 🍓" ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓀐𓂺♡🤰👩‍🍼 (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) ♱ ( •̀ - •́ ) ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。 ˚ 𓅹 (·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ) ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ↻ 𓅰 𖦹 𖤐★⋆ =͟͟͞♡ (∩˃ω˂∩) (´。• ◡ •。`) ♡ 🎧🪐⭐️🫧 ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ 💌🧚‍♀️💗🌨🥡🍥 (๑•᎑•๑) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ♫₊˚.🎧 ✧ ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡ 𓆩⚝𓆪 ᶠYͧoͨᵏu ପ꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ଓ 🌸🤍 ༄ 🎀🪞🩰🦢🕯️ Σ(°△° ꪱꪱꪱ) ✮⋆。°✩ ✮ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ☁︎ ✰ ✰ ✰ 🍙♡‹𝟹㊗🎧" ☾ ₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧ ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ (੭ ˊ^ˋ)੭ ♡ ^_< -★ ꒰ঌᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ໒꒱ 𓆡 ( • ̀ω•́ )✧ ᶻz (╥ ω ╥) ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა 🫗 ଘ(˵╹-╹)━☆ (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ (..◜ᴗ◝..) 🪷 ₍ᐢᐢ₎ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ 🕷 (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑) ★ ◡̈ ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ ૮₍•᷄ ࡇ •᷅₎ა (≧ヮ≦) 💕 ִֶָ /ᐠﹷ ‸ ﹷ ᐟ\ノ :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: ˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡ ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。 ˚ ଘ(੭´꒳`)°* ੈ‧₊˚ ૮₍。´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`。₎ა ( ;´ - `;) ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆゚.*・。゚ /ᐠ. 。.ᐟ\ᵐᵉᵒʷˎˊ˗ ( • ᴖ • 。) ꒒ ০ ⌵ ୧ ♡ (。>﹏<) ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ 𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 🦋ꦿ ╰┈➤ ( ´ཀ` ) 𓀐𓂸 𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 ⋆୨୧˚૮ ^ﻌ^ა˚୨୧⋆ ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊ ✩°。⋆⸜(˙꒳​˙ ) 𑁍 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍓🍒🍄 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𐦍 🌈⃤. (๑´>᎑<)~* * ੈ✩‧₊˚ ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡ ( ^◡^)っ✂╰⋃╯ ☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠋⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠋⠉⠉⠛⣷⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠃ ⠀⣠⣶⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠃⠀ ⢸⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⢸⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠙⠿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣶⣦⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣤⡿⠃ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠙⠛⠉⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣄⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⋆˙⟡ —
૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
PLUSH ONE xv (By NeuroFabulous) Hanna's eyes are glued to Plankton's peaceful form, aching for the fear and confusion she's seen in his eye. "What can we do for him?" she asks, her voice a gentle prodding. Karen looks up. "We need to adapt his environment," she says, her voice a soft determination. "Reduce the sensory input, establish comforts." Hanna nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "What kind of comforts?" she asks, curiosity piqued. "Oh, like the plushie? What's the plush..." Karen's voice trails off as she considers Hanna's question. "Well, yes," she says, her voice a soft explanation. "But it's more than that. It's about creating a space that's safe for him, that doesn't overstimulate his senses." Hanna nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "How do we do that?" she asks, her curiosity genuine. "We start by understanding his triggers," Karen says, her gaze thoughtful. "The noise, the lights, the...chaos." Hanna nods, her mind racing. "And the plushies?" she prompts, her voice a soft probe. Karen's smiling. "They're... I guess comfort objects," she explains. "For someone with autism, such items can be a lifeline." Hanna nods, her curiosity piqued. "But why a plushie?" she asks, her voice a soft wonder. Karen looks at Plankton, his body curled around the fluffy toy. "It's about softness, and predictability," she says, her voice a gentle explanation. "Plushies have a certain...comfort to them. They're consistent, familiar. And when his world is too much, it's something he can hold onto, something that won't change." Hanna nods slowly, her gaze still on the plushie. "So, it's like a...security blanket?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen nods. "Exactly," she says, her voice filled with understanding. "But for his autism, it's even more. It's a constant in a world that ca--" But Plankton's eye snaps open, his antennae shooting up. "Karen," he whispers, his voice filled with panic. She quickly turns to him, her hand ready to offer comfort. "What is it?" He points at Hanna, his fear palpable. "Hanna," he stammers. "Hanna new. Too loud. Hanna hurt. Hanna made everything go...spinny." Hanna's eyes fill with tears, her hand reaching out to him. "I'm so—" But Plankton flinches, his body coiling away from Hanna's touch. Hanna's hand stops mid-air, her eyes wide with surprise. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers, her voice gentle. "I'm not going t---" But he's already retreated to the corner of the room, his tiny body shaking. "No touch," he murmurs, his antennae quivering. "No loud." Karen's heart clenches. "I know," she says, her voice a gentle coax. "But Hanna is our friend, she's just trying to he-" But Plankton's panic interrupts her. "Friend?" he whispers, his voice filled with doubt. "No. Everything changed. Hanna not good." Karen's eyes are filled with pain, her heart breaking for him. "I know it's scary," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "But Ha—" "NO!" Plankton screams, his body convulsing with fear. "No Hanna!" Hanna jumps back, her eyes wide with shock. Her hand had hovered over his plushie, intending to give it a comforting pat before reaching out to give it to him. But for Plankton, that's crossing a line. "No touch," he whispers, his antennae quivering with anxiety. "MINE." Hanna's eyes widen, the plushie still in her hand. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice a soft apology. Her heart aches for him, his fear a stark reminder of the distance between them now. She holds the plushie out to him, her hand shaking. "It's yours," she says, her voice a gentle offer. But Plankton's panic doesn't abate. His eye is a storm of confusion and fear. "MINE," he whispers, his antennae vibrating with tension. Hanna's hand hovers motionless, the plushie dangling between them. She looks to Karen for guidance, her eyes filled with worry. Karen's eyes are understood, her voice a soothing lullaby. "It's okay, Plankton," she coos. "Hanna just wanted to give it back." Slowly, she steps towards the trembling figure of Plankton, her movements careful not to startle him. But Plankton's gaze is fixed on Hanna, his antennae quivering with distress. "No," he murmurs, his voice a soft protest. "MINE." Hanna's eyes are filled with confusion as she looks at the plushie in her hand. She had only wanted to help, to comfort her newfound friend. But now she feels like an intruder in his world. Karen steps closer, her movements deliberately slow. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers. "Hanna means no ha-" But Plankton's fear has turned to anger, his tiny fists balled up. "MINE!" he screams at Hanna, his voice sharp. Her hand jerks back, the plushie dropping to the floor. "I didn't mean to..." Her words are drowned out by Plankton's cries. Karen's heart aches as she watches Hanna's hurt expression. "It's okay," she says, her voice a soft caress. "We're all just trying to fi-" But Plankton's screams cut her off. His fear has escalated into rage, his tiny fists pounding the floor. "MINE!" he shouts, his voice furious. Hanna's eyes are wide with shock, her hand still hovering above the plushie. She didn't mean to take it, didn't mean to cause such distress. But Plankton's reaction is instinctive, primal. "HANNA GIVE BACK!" he shouts, his tiny body quaking with fear. Hanna's eyes are filled with sorrow as she drops to her knees, setting the plushie on the floor. "Here," she says, her voice a soft plea. "It's yo-" But Plankton's rage won't abate. He stares at the plushie, his breaths shallow. Karen moves closer, her eyes filled with pain. "Plankton, it's okay," she whispers, her voice a gentle caress. "You can have it." Slowly, Hanna retreats, her eyes on the floor. Karen's gaze follows hers, seeing the plushie lying there, a symbol of their misunderstanding. "It's okay," she repeats, her voice a soft promise. Plankton's anger subsides as he watches Karen's approach. He recognizes her comforting strides, her calming presence. Her hand extends towards his plushie, a silent offer to bridge the gap. He looks at her, his eye narrowing. But the fear is still there, the memory of the plushie's theft fresh. His antennae quiver, his body tense. Karen's hand hovers over the plushie, her movements slow and deliberate. "It's okay," she whispers. "You can have it back." Plankton's gaze flickers between the plushie and Hanna's retreating form. He reaches out tentatively, his hand trembling. As he touches the soft plush, his body relaxes, the fear ebbing away. The plushie is a talisman of comfort, a silent sentinel in his autistic world. He clutches it to his chest, his eye closed in relief.
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.
CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xv (By NeuroFabulous) Plankton's antennae twitch. "M'sorry," he murmurs, his voice a weak apology for his condition. Karen's hand is a steady presence, her grip reassuring. "You have nothing to apologize for," she says, her voice a soft whisper of comfort. Chip watches his father, his curiosity piqued. "Hey, Dad," he says, his voice a gentle reminder of the care and understanding that now exists between them. Chip sits on the edge of the couch, his hand reaching to touch Plankton's shoulder... Plankton's antennae shoot up, his eye snapping open in alarm. His hand shoots out, batting Chip's arm away. Chip recoils, his eyes wide with surprise. "It's okay, Dad," he says quickly, his voice low. "I wa-" But Plankton's antennae are quivering with agitation, his body tense. "Don't," he snaps, his voice sharp. Karen's eyes dart to her son, her expression a silent apology. She knows Plankton's autism makes him hypersensitive to touch, especially when in pain. Chip's hand hover in mid-air, his eyes wide. "Why'd yo-" Plankton's voice is a harsh interruption, his antennae twitching erratically. "I said don't," he repeats, his voice a firm command. Chip's hand drops to his side, his expression one of confusion and hurt. "It's okay," Karen says quickly, her voice a gentle reminder. "He's just sensitive." Sandy nods, her eyes on Plankton's face. "It's okay, Chip," she says softly. "Let's just give him some space." Chip nods, his gaze on his father's tense form. Karen's eyes are filled with compassion as she watches Plankton, his antennae still twitching with agitation. "It's all right," she whispers, her voice a gentle balm. "Your body's just healing." The silence stretches between them, a soft acknowledgment of his pain. The compress feels cold against his cheek, the medication a distant promise. His antennae droop slightly, his body beginning to relax. Karen watches him closely, her eyes a map of his comfort. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers. "You just need to rest." His antennae twitch in response, his breathing evening out. The medication starts to kick in, the pain a distant memory. Plankton's antennae droop with the weight of his exhaustion. Karen's hand remains in his, a silent promise of support. She knows that his autism means that even the smallest touch can be too much, yet she also knows the comfort of familiarity. Chip's eyes are wide, taking in the scene before him. He wants to be near his dad! Karen's eyes are on them both, her heart a silent prayer. She knows how much Chip wants to comfort Plankton, to bridge the gap that autism often forces between them. Chip tries to keep his moves calm, but his heart races with concern despite his efforts to hold back. He also sees the way Karen's hand rests on Plankton's, a silent offer of comfort, and wonders if he could do the same.. So Chip takes a deep breath, his finger tentative as it reaches out to his father's shoulder, his touch immediate... Plankton's body twitches right at Chip's contact, his eye snapping open. "Mmph," he mumbles, his antennae shooting up in a defensive stance. Chip's hand freezes, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "It's okay, Da-" Yet Plankton's antennae droop again, his eye falling closed. "Mmh," he mumbles. But Chip takes this as a green light. He leans in closer, his finger brushing Plankton's cheek... "Don't touch me!" Plankton's voice is a whipcrack, his antennae twitching angrily. His hand shoots up to swat Chip's touch away. "M'fine!" he snaps, his body trembling with pain and frustration. Karen's heart aches, caught between her son's well-meaning concern and Plankton's desperate need for space. "Chip," she says gently, her voice a calming force. "Remember what we talked about.." Yet Chip wants to ask questions about his dad's dental surgery. Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye opening to slits. "What?" he snaps, his voice a sharp edge. Chip's eyes are wide with curiosity. "What was it like?" he asks, his voice eager. "The surgery, I mean." Karen's smile is a soft explanation. "It was like a long nap," she says, her eyes on Plankton. "They gave him medicine to make him sleepy, so he wouldn't feel anything." Chip's eyes light up with interest. "What happened to make him asleep?" he asks, his voice filled with eagerness to understand. Karen's smile is a gentle explanation. "They used anesthesia," she says, her voice calm and steady. "It's like a special kind of sleep that lets doctors work without you feeling anything." Chip's eyes widen, his mind racing with questions. "But how did they know he was asleep?" he asks, his voice a whisper of wonder. Karen's smile is filled with pride. "They used monitors, sweetie," she explains. "They keep track of his heartbeat and breathing, so they know he's okay." Chip's gaze is riveted on Plankton's swollen cheeks. "But his mouth?" he presses. "What did they do?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, his discomfort visible. Karen's voice is a soft guide. "They took out his wisdom teeth," she says. "They were gonna cause problems." Chip's curiosity is a whirlwind of questions. "How do they know when you're asleep?" he asks, his voice filled with awe. Karen's smile is a gentle teaching tool. "They watch his brain waves," she says, her words a soft explanation. "They use a machine that shows them how much he's sleeping." Chip nods, his eyes absorbing the information. "And how'd dad woke up?" Karen's eyes are filled with patience. "They stopped the medicine," she says. "And when he was ready, his body woke up." Chip's mind is a storm of curiosity. "But what was it like?" he asks again, his voice a persistent wonder. "Being asleep like that?" Karen's eyes hold a hint of amusement. "It's like a very deep sleep," she says. "You don't dream, you don't feel, you just rest." Chip's curiosity is a tiny flame, flickering brightly in the quiet room. "But what about when he woke up?" he presses, his voice filled with a child's need to understand the world. Karen's smile is a gentle nod. "When you wake up from surgery, it's a little different," she explains. "The body's still sleepy, and his mouth was numb." Chip's eyes are wide with understanding. "Oh," he says, his voice a soft wonder.
A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY xv (By NeuroFabulous) The sudden chaos was too much for Plankton to bear. Karen and Chip watched in horror as Plankton's anger transformed into something beyond mere irritation—it was a full-blown meltdown. With a roar of frustration, Plankton swept his arms across the bedside table, sending the lamp and various knick-knacks crashing to the floor. Chip's eyes widened as he took in the destruction, his heart racing with fear and confusion. "Dad, no!" he shouted, rushing forward to intervene, but Karen's hand on his shoulder held him back. "Let me," she murmured, her eyes on Plankton, who was now on his knees, his antennas quivering with rage as he grabbed at the blanket, tearing it from the bed. Karen approached Plankton slowly, speaking in a calm, soothing tone. "Plankton, love," she said, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of his distress. "It's okay. It's just a mess, which can be easily fi-" But her words were drowned out by the crash of a vase smashing against the wall. Chip felt a pang of fear and helplessness as he watched his father. Plankton's rage was a living entity in the room, his antennas a blur of motion. Everything he touched, everything he saw, seemed to fuel his fury. With each crash and shatter, Chip felt his heart break a little more. He'd never seen his dad like this—so out of control, so overwhelmed. Karen's calm demeanor was a stark contrast to the chaos. "Dad, please stop," Chip pleaded, his voice trembling. "You're scaring me." But Plankton was beyond words, his autistic mind overwhelmed by the sensory assault. The now messy books hitting the floor had triggered a storm of emotions, each one more intense than the last. He had always managed to keep his meltdowns in check around Chip, but tonight, the dam had broken. Karen moved closer, her hands outstretched. "Plankton," she said calmly, "It's okay. Just breathe." But Plankton's eye was wild, his antennas a blur of overstimulation. He didn't heed her; he saw only the chaos that Chip had unwittingly unleashed. The room spun around him, a whirlwind of sounds and sensations that he couldn't escape. Karen knew the signs, having seen this before. With a gentle touch, she managed to get Plankton to look at her. "Look at me," she whispered, her voice steady. "Just focus on my voice." Slowly, the storm in Plankton's antennas began to subside. His breathing was still ragged, but he was no longer thrashing. Chip stood there, his body tense, his eyes fixed on the shambles of the room. He felt a mix of guilt and fear, his mind racing with what to do. Karen's voice broke the silence, firm but kind. "Chip, go to your room," she instructed. "Let me handle this." But as Chip turns to do so, he sees the look in Plankton's eye—it's a mixture of anger and fear. He knew he had to do something more than just leave. With a shaky hand, he reached out to his father, his heart pounding in his chest. "Dad," he says, his voice trembling, "I'm here, and I didn't me—" But as Chip touches his cheek, that's when Plankton's fury boils over. With a snarl, Plankton shoves Chip away, sending him crashing into the wall. "Don't touch me!" he screams, his antennas a blur of rage. "Don't you ever touch me!" The pain explodes in Chip's chest as he hits the wall, his breath knocked out of him. His heart thunders, his mind racing as he tries to process his father's rejection. "Dad, I'm sorry," Chip stammers, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I just wanted—" But Plankton's anger has reached a fever pitch. Karen's eyes widened as she saw the rage in her husband's antennas, her heart racing as she realized the depth of his distress. "Chip," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. "Go to your room, now." The pain in Chip's heart was palpable, but he knew his mother was right. He stumbled backward, his eyes never leaving his father's distressed form. Plankton was now standing, his antennas twitching violently, his whole body trembling with the intensity of his emotions. Karen's gaze flickered between her husband and son, her face etched with concern. "Plank..." But Plankton didn't hear her, his focus solely on Chip. With a roar of fury, Plankton tried to swat at Chip, but Karen stepped in, her arms wrapping around Plankton's body. The sudden restraint only intensified his rage. He struggled against her, his antennas a wild whirl of sensory assault. "Let me go!" he bellowed, his body a blur of flailing limbs. Karen held firm, her eyes never leaving Chip's as she whispered, "Go, now," her voice carrying a quiet urgency. Reluctantly, Chip turned and stumbled out of the room, his mind whirling with confusion and pain. He knew his father's meltdown wasn't personal, but the force of Plankton's rejection felt like a knife to the heart. As the door clicked shut behind him, he leaned against it, his breaths coming in ragged sobs.
ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
opa ╱|、 (˚ˎ 。7 |、˜〵 じしˍ,)ノ
⠀⠀ ⡠⠒⢄ ⠀⠀ ᨘ⡴⠒⢦⣀⠔⠒⢄ ⠀⠀ ⡏ ⠀ ⠉⠉⠉⣽⠀⢴⣷⠛⢲⠶⠚⣄ ⠀⠀ ⢸ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠓⠚⠛⠤⡞⠛⠀⡞ ⠀⠀⢸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ᱸ⠉⢉⣇⣀⣀ ⠉⠉⣇⡀ ⣶⠀⠀ ⣀⠀⠀ ⣶⠀⠀⣾⠤⠤ ⢎ ⠡⠨ ⣃⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀ ⡸⠒⠒ ⢸⢴⠉⠂⣘ᱸ⠖⢶⠒⠒⡶⢲⠒⡞⢣ ⠀ ᱸ⠢⣉⣁⠜⠒⢄ ⠉⠉⠀⡠⠋⠉⠉ ⠀⠀ ⠑⠒⠓⠒ᱸ
ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
⭑。𖦹°‧
hello! we are trying to start the longest IMessage of 2025! please put your name in the message (doest have to be your real name) and send it to your friends! 🌶️🔥LIAM🥵💋 💕🩷Rylee🩷💕 🔥👹Bekah😔👌 ✨🦋Audrina💕✨ ✨🎀Zee✨🎀 💅EmuOtori👁👄👁 🧑‍🦲baldies basics🧑‍🦲 ✨🌛Mwakanzai🌜✨ 🦕😃meh🦕😃 ✨🌿Lorie🌿✨ 🎀✨Khloe🎀✨
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣅⣀⢈⣩⣷⣶⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⣒⣤⣀⡲⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢾⣿⣯⡿⠟⠋⠈⠻⡛⠋⠹⣗⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠊⢔⢉⢙⣹⡿⠳⣙⡊⣓⣉⣒⡤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⣡⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠢⡍⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠐⡇⠀⠻⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠻⣟⠋⠙⠓⢤⣠⡴⣶⡿⣛⣉⣁⠒⠢⣄⣀⠀⣀⣤⡶⢺⣷⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡀⢾⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⠤⠶⠒⣺⠿⣟⢠⣯⣃⣳⡾⠲⠷⣮⣥⣴⣮⣤⣤⣬⣿⣟⣻⡿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⣷⣦⣤⣾⣿⣷⣶⡂⢉⡤⢊⣥⣿⡿⠿⠿⢿⣦⣤⣀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⢤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠋⡴⣻⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⢯⠀⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠁⠀⢀⢽⣿⣦⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠎⣡⢁⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠫⣳⠄⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⠞⠁⠈⢿⢿⡷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣰⣾⣏⠩⡉⠰⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢂⡴⢛⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠷⣾⣿⡀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣸⣾⠃⠀⢀ ⠀⣰⡇⠈⠙⠤⣽⣧⣹⣷⣤⣀⣴⣡⡤⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⠒⠛⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⡿⠁⠀⠀⠘ ⢰⣟⣹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⠿⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⢀⡖⠁⢸⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢹⡇⠂⢡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡁⠀⠠⣬⣧⣀⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠱⡄⠀⠣⠀⣠⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⢶⠃⠙⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠢⢀⣙⠿⣿⡿⢿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⡾⡄⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠊⠁⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠺⢷⣿⣿⡶⠤⢕⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠂⢶⣶⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⡎⠀⣀⣠⡾⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀fllw me on pinterest : pinkiace ୨୧
( ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ )
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⠿⠛⠿⣦⣄⣠⣶⠿⠟⠉⠉⠙⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣴⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣯⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠛⠛⠻⠿⢶⣶⣄⣠⣤⣶⠶⠾⠿⠛⢻⣿⠀⠀⢠⣶⠷⣶⣾⡿⠿⢶⣦⣤⣴⡶⠶⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠸⣧⣰⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⢹⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣄⡀⠀⠙⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠏⣷⠀⠀⢸⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣇⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠻⠷⠞⠛⢻⣧⣤⣤⣴⡾⠿⠴⠋⠀⢠⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠹⣷⣄⣀⣠⣼⡿⠁⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣿⣦⠀⣀⣀⣀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡶⢿⣿⠛⠛⠛⠋ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣀⣠⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠿⠿⣶⠟⠀⣀⣀⠘⢻⣿⠛⠛⠛⠃ ⣠⣤⣴⠶⣿⡷⠚⠻⠧⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠃⠀⠀⠉⠀⡼⣻⣻⢿⠿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠙⠉⠀⠀⠘⣿⡀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡉⣉⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢣⡏⢹⠛⠓⢒⣿⣤⣄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣿⣿⡟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣏⡿⠀⢻⣿⠄⣾⠁⠈⠉⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠛⠁⠀⠘⢿⣦⣠⡼⠆⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠋⠛⠿⠿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡟⡽⠁⢀⣨⣧⣴⠻⣧⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡿⠛⠿⣶⣤⣄⣠⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣴⣶⢿⡿⣸⠃⣰⡿⠋⠉⠁⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢹⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡿⠛⠛⠛⢉⡿⠋⠉⢹⣧⣸⣷⡏⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⣇⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⠿⠷⠦⠴⠾⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢻⣏⠛⠓⠚⢿⣦⠀⣠⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣟⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⠾⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠉⣹⡿⠛⠓⠲⠦⠤⠤⠤⠶⠶⢾⣟⠉⠉⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠃⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣶⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣼⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢹⣟⠛⠿⠿⠶⠶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣴⣶⣶⣶⠶⠶⠶⠿⠟⢿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠶⢤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣄⣼⣿⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⠤⢶⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣷⣦⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣾⣿⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣴⠶⠶⠶⠶⠦⣤⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⠾⠟⣿⣿⠾⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠻⢶⣤⣠⣤⣤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠟⠉⠀⠀⠸⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢷⣀⠈⠙⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠁⠀⠀⣰⣶⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇⠀⠀⠐⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠳⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⠉⠁⠉⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠿⠿⠁⡀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢶⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⡾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⣄⠤⠠⠐⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠁⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⢁⠀⠀⣼⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⡄⠀ ⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠻⢶⣤⣴⡾⠷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣦⣤⠀⠜⣀⣴⠟⠈⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⠀ ⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠁⠀⠀⣿⠃⠀⠀⢸⡟⠳⠶⠶⠶⢦⣶⣴⣶⣴⣶⣶⣿⠉⠀⠹⣷⣿⣿⣥⣄⡀⠀⢻⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇ ⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢿⣆⣠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⠀⢀⣿⠟⠉⠉⠉⠛⣷⡄⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇ ⠘⢷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠶⠿⣷⡀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠈⣿⡄⠀⠙⢷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠉⠛⠷⠶⠶⠶⠶⠾⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⣤⣴⠏⠀⠀⣽⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⠶⠶⠶⠶⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⣠⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⡾⠋⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠛⠉⠙⠓⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠛⠿⠾⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠐⢶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⡀⠀⠀⢶⡶⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⣀⣠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣇⡀⣠⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩
──★ ˙ ̟🐇 !!
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
⬫ ׄ ꪆ୧ ׅ ⬫ ੭੭ ݂ 17. ( 𝐍𝗮𝗺𝗲 ) ׄ 🧸 ꒱ ⁺ ꔫ ׅ 🍮 ₊﹒ ⌣ ✧ㅤִ ﹙𝘀𝗵𝗲 / 𝗵𝗲𝗿 ﹚ㅤ.ㅤ ౨౿ ꒰ ׂ ♡. 𓈒 𝟢𝟣 @not.aerin
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
`⎚⩊⎚´ -✧
/>  フ |  _ _| /` ミ_xノ /     | /  ヽ   ノ │  | | | / ̄|   | | | ( ̄ヽ__ヽ_)__) \二)
࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠋⠀⠹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣠⣤⣤⣄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡏⠀⠈⣿⡆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡾⠉⠉⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⢹⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⣦⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇ ⣠⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠁⢹⣧⠀⠀⢈⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠏⠀ ⣿⠛⢷⣤⣤⡴⠶⠾⠃⠀⠀⣿⢀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⠏⠀⠀ ⢻⡆⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⠶⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠸⣿⡿⠟⣿⣄⡾⠟⡛⢓⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡶⠞⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠹⣷⣼⣁⣽⣧⣽⠿⠋⢁⣠⣴⠶⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⡿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠰⣯⣁⣠⠴⠛⢻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣾⠋⢀⣄⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⢿⡷⠦⠴⠶⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⡏⢠⣿⢹⣧⠀⣾⠻⣧⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⢷⠟⠁⢸⡏⠀⣿⠀⠻⣦⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⡟⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
へ ╱| ૮ - ՛ ) ♡ (` - 7. / ⁻ ៸| |、⁻〵 乀 (ˍ, ل ل じしˍ,)ノ
౨ৎ⋆˚。⋆
⢠⡶⠒⠖⢢⡤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⢤⡔⠶⢲⣶⡄ ⢸⣇⠃⡐⠀⠀⢀⠉⠙⢣⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠞⠛⠉⢀⠀⠀⠄⠳⣼⡇ ⣿⡆⡃⢀⠀⠀⠄⡘⠠⢸⡘⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡛⡄⢀⠃⠄⠀⢀⠘⠳⣄⣿ ⣿⡔⡁⠂⠀⢈⠐⠠⢁⢲⣥⣟⣯⠉⠉⣽⢳⣵⡖⠤⠈⠄⡁⠀⢂⠱⣘⣾ ⣿⡔⡱⠈⠀⠄⡈⠐⠠⣿⣼⢻⣞⡠⣁⢾⠟⣮⣵⠃⠌⡐⠀⢀⠂⠰⡱⣾ ⣿⣰⢑⠈⠄⠂⠄⡁⢂⡄⢦⡯⣟⠙⠋⢻⣽⣔⡠⢌⠠⢀⠁⠄⣨⠒⣵⣻ ⠸⣷⢎⡂⠴⣈⢦⣹⡶⣾⢻⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⢟⡿⣽⣺⢥⣊⡜⣤⢛⣼⠇ ⠀⢻⣼⣱⣢⣽⠾⣏⢷⡹⠎⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡸⢇⣟⡻⢾⣻⡵⣏⣾⠿⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢹⡡⢍⠲⠌⠦⠑⢹⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡷⠈⢦⠱⣉⠦⡩⣏⠉⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢨⠇⢀⠂⠄⢂⠐⣈⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢗⡈⠠⠐⡀⠐⠠⠹⣃⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⡿⠀⡀⢀⠈⠀⠂⠄⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡁⠀⠁⢀⠈⠠⠀⢿⡀⠀ ⠀⢨⡇⠀⠐⢠⠈⠐⢠⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡄⢡⠈⡄⠈⡄⢡⢸⡇⠀ ⠀⣿⠐⡎⠴⡠⢌⡐⣀⠢⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡄⣂⠰⢤⡑⠲⣌⠒⣿⠀ ⠀⠙⠳⠾⠷⠷⣮⣴⢧⡽⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣵⣬⣳⣦⠿⠷⠞⠟⠋⠀ ✦ 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐬? 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 ‘𝐤𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐬’ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 ꣑ৎ
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧
𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.˚
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ‌  :¨ ·.· ¨: `· . ୨୧ ㅤ
₊˚⊹ 🪼 🐋 ꒱ ★ ! 222 · infp ˙ 희망 — 🎧 !! 𝘴𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 ──★ ˙ ̟ have a good day !! <𝟑
⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣷⣄ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣴⣶⣶⣶⣄ ⠀⠀⠀⣀⣿⣿⡿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⢇⠠⣏⡖⠒⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀ ⠀⠀⢀⣷⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⢋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⡙⢿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⠀⣿⠇⠀⢀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠀⣿⡿⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠷⠤⣀⣀⣐⣂⣀⣠⠤⠾⠋⠁ ⠀⠀
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒
pleas add me on discord its iirlshinji :3 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡳⣼⣆⠀⠀⢹⡄⠹⣷⣄⢠⠇⠻⣷⣶⢀⣸⣿⡾⡏⠀⠰⣿⣰⠏⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⣀⣀⣀⡹⣟⡪⢟⣷⠦⠬⣿⣦⣌⡙⠿⡆⠻⡌⠿⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣿⡿⠟⠚⠉⠀⠉⠳⣄⡀⠀⠀⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⣼⣟⠛⠛⠙⠛⠉⠻⢶⣮⢿⣯⡙⢶⡌⠲⢤⡑⠀⠈⠛⠟⢿⣿⠛⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠯⣙⠛⢉⣉⣙⣿⣿⡳⢶⣦⣝⢿⣆⠉⠻⣄⠈⢆⢵⡈⠀⠀⢰⡆⠀⣼⠓⠀⠀⠀ Nah ⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠖⠉⠻⣟⡿⣿⣭⢽⣽⣶⣈⢛⣾⣿⣧⠀⠙⠓⠀⠑⢦⡀⠹⣧⢂⠀⣿⡇⢀⣿⠺⠇⠀ ⠀I'd⠀ ⠀⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠈⠉⢛⣿⣿⣶⣤⣈⠉⣰⣗⡈⢛⣇⠀⣵⡀⠀⠘⣿⡄⢻⣤⠀⢻⡇⣼⣧⣿⠀ Beef on this site⠀⡿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⢍⡉⠛⠻⣷⡆⠨⣿⣭⣤⣍⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠹⣿⡄⠈⠀⢿⠁⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣇⣠⣾⣿⣛⣲⣿⠛⠀⠀⢀⣸⣿⣿⣟⣮⡻⣷⣤⡙⢟⡀⠀⠙⢧⠀⠀⠎⠀⠉⠁⠰⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣴⡏⠚⢛⣈⣍⠛⠛⠿⢦⣌⢙⠻⡆⠁⠀⠀⠀⣴⣦⠀⠀⠀⠐⢳⢻⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠙⣿⣧⣶⣿⠿⣧⣴⣿⢻⡉⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⡟⠿⠃⠁⣠⣤⡶⣾⡟⠅⠀⣀⡄⠀⣾⢸⣿⣏⢻⢶⣦⣤⣤⣄⢶⣾⣿⣡⣤⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣞⣋⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⡛⣹⡟⣤⢰⡿⠟⠉⣀⣀⣤⣤⡠⠙⢁⣾⡿⠂⠀⣿⠟⣁⠀⣹⠀⣹⣿⡟⣼⣿⣿⣌⣿⣞⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⡿⢛⢟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣼⣿⣟⢓⠛⣿⣏⣿⣵⣗⣵⣴⣿⢟⡵⣣⣼⣿⢟⣵⣶⢻⣶⣿⠀⠀⣈⢻⣿⣿⣿⢿⣾⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠘⠃⢸⣿⡾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣟⣾⡿⣫⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⢫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣴⡆⣻⣿⡏⣿⢻⣧⣿⡿⣿⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠜⣿⣾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣭⣿⣖⣿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢡⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡿⣾⣷⣿⣿⢿⣿⡇⠉⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠞⠟⣸⣿⠏⣸⣧⣀⠿⢿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⡿⢶⣦⣄⣿⠏⠀⣿⣟⣿⣶⠾⣿⣟⣋⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣻⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠟⠛⠫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣧⠛⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣷⡌⠹⡟⠀⠀⠉⡟⠋⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠋⣾⣷⣿⣿⣧⠙⠀⠙⢣⠝⠛⠋⣽⣷⢦⠇⠀⠀⠘⠁⣤⣾⣿⠝⠛⠉⠘⢻⣿⣿⢿⣼⣷⡟⢻⣷⠉⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠟⠀⢸⣷⣿⡇⠀⠛⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠁⠀⢹⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢻⡿⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠲⣄⠀⡄⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⢻⣆⠀⠛⠁⠶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡶⠆⠘⠋⣠⡾⢫⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠛⠀⠙⣷⡀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠁⠀⢀⣴⠋⠀⣾⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣿⣰⣦⡀⠸⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡟⠁⠀⠐⢻⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡄⢺⣿⡄⠹⣿⠻⢦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣿⡟⢀⣀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣿⣿⡀⠹⡷⣦⣀⡀⡀⢸⣿⠏⢠⣾⣿⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠘⣷⣻⡟⠀⡼⠁⣴⣿⣿⣯⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣯⣿⣤⣤⣤⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣄ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ 🤞🤞🏻 𐙚
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ₍ᐢ.‸. ᐢ₎◌ ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ⑅₎ ꒰ ૮₍ ⑅ ᐢ..ᐢ   ₎ა ꒱ ᐢ..ᐢ ᐢ. ֑ .ᐢ ᐢ⸼⸼ᐢ ₍ᐢ  ›   ̫ ‹ ᐢ₎ ₍ᐡ。っ ̫-。ᐡ₎  ₍⑅ᐢฅ́˘ฅ̀ᐢ₎ ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎   ₍ᵔ•ᴗ•ᵔ₎ ꒰ᐢ - ˕ - ᐢ꒱ ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა ૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა ૮₍´。ᵔ ꈊ ᵔ。`₎ა ૮₍´˶ᵔェᵔ˶`₎ა ૮₍꜆꜄ ˃ ³ ˂ ₎ა ૮₍⇀‸↼‶₎ა ૮₍ ˵ • ꤮ ก ˵ ₎︎ა ૮₍。´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`。₎ა ૮₍ ˶• ˔ ต ₎ა ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა ૮₍。 •᎔• 。₎ა ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩ ૮ – ﻌ–ა "૮₍ •⤙•˶ ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა ૮ / / / ⍝ა ૮₍๑•ˑก₎ა ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎ა ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ฅ ₎ა ૮ ˊ͈ . ˋ͈ ა ( ◠·◠)ა ૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡ ⊂(◉‿◉)つ ૮₍ ⑅ • ᵜ • ⑅ ₎ა ૮₍ ´˶• ᴥ •˶` ₎ა ૮₍ ៸៸ ᵜ ก ₎ა ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა ˘ ᵜ ˘ ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა ૮₍ ๑ • ᵜ ก ๑ ₎ა࣪ ⍝ ˘ ᵜ ˘ ⍝ ૮ ・ﻌ・ა ૮ ・ﻌ・ა /ᐠ - ˕ -マ /ᐠ ˵> ⩊ <˵マ ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ ദ്ദി(• ˕ •マ.ᐟ ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ ₍˄·͈༝·͈˄₎◞ ₍˄·͈༝·͈˄*₎◞ ̑̑ ₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎ ≽^•⩊•^≼ ≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼ /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ /ᐠ . ֑ . ᐟ\ノ (=^‥^=)ノニ! ꒰ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱ ꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ˀˀ ପ꒰⋆°͈꒳°͈꒱ ꒰◍ॢ•ᴗ•◍ॢ꒱ ꒰◍ˊ◡ˋ꒱ ପ(⑅ˊᵕˋ⑅)ଓ ʚ(◜𖥦◝ )ɞ ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ (๑>؂•̀๑) ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑) (๑´`๑)♡ (๑•̀ᗢ•́๑) (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑) (๑ •ﻌ•๑ ) ( ๑˃̶ ꇴ ˂̶)♪⁺ (๑¯ิε ¯ิ๑) ヾ(๑╹◡╹)ノ" (๑ ́ᄇ`๑) (๑•́o•̀๑) ๑・ꈊ ⍝ ʔ (๑ó⌓ò๑) (๑•﹏•) ʅ(๑ ᷄ω ᷅ )ʃ ٩(๑`ȏ´๑)۶ (๑‾᷆д‾᷇๑) ヾ(◍・ꈊ・◍)ノ (◍•ᴗ•◍) ♡(◍•ㅅ•◍)♡ (⋈◍>◡<◍)。 (◍˃̶ᗜ˂̶◍)ノ”   (●'◡'●) (●´⌓`●) ᘒ (  '-' )ノ💥)`-' ) ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡ o(^^o) (o^^)o ヽ(*・ω・)人(・ω・*)ノ (o・_・)ノ"(ノ_<。) (ɔ ˘⌣˘)˘⌣˘ c) ( ´∀`)人(´∀` ) (-.ㅡㆀ) (ㆀㅡ.-) ദ്ദി (ᵔᗜᵔ) ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ (⌒^⌒)b o(>< )o ᭬(੭˘͈ᵕ˘͈)੭ ૮( ˀ ་𓄧་)੭ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ✌︎( ᐛ )✌︎ ☜(`o´) (՞ټ՞☝ <(_ _)> ⸜( •⌄• )⸝ ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و ̑̑ (o··o)/ \(·o·)/! ╭( •̀ •́ )╮  (ว˙∇˙)ง (、._. )、...... ( 〃..)ノ (˶˃⤙˂˶) ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) (ᵕ—ᴗ—) ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ? ( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。) 。°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°。 .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. (¬`‸´¬) ꉂ (˃̵ᗜ˂̵ ) ( ´ཀ` ) (¬_¬") (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) (ㅅ´ ˘ `)( ,,⩌'︿'⩌,,) (っ- ‸ - ς) (·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ) (˶◜ᵕ◝˶) (ᓀ‸ᓂ) ( ・ิω・ิ ) つ᎑•᷅)♡ (  ᵒ̴̶̷̤ ꒳ ᵒ̴̶̷̤。 ) (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) ( ¯꒳​¯ )ᐝ (›´-`‹ ) (ーー゛) (᎑ ᎑).zzZ (っ ̯- )˚˚˚ᙆᙆᙆ ( ˶ ̇ᵕ​ ̇˶) (ιº o º)! (* - -) ( •᷄ - •᷅ ) ( ˊ• ·̭ •̥ ) (˵¯͒〰¯͒˵) (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू) (ιº o º)! (·へ·) (;๏д๏) Σ(º ロ º๑) >ヮ< ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ᴖ ᴈ ᴖ ᵔᴗᵔ ˘ᵕ˘ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ ꃋᴖꃋ •᷄ࡇ•᷅ n⇀‸↼‶ ⎚-⎚ `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧ >ㅅ< ˆ𐃷ˆ ⪩. .⪨ >ᨓ< ᯣ_ᯣ •⩊• ‪ᯅ̈ •᎑ᵕ ๑ ᜊﬞﬞ 𓈒𓏸 •ɞ• ๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑ ๑◕‿◕๑ ⌯' ▾ '⌯  ・ิ▽・ิ   ゚ヮ゚ ⸝⸝> <⸝⸝ ‪ ⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ︎ っ ̫ -˘ •﹏• ⚆_⚆  ˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣   ・ิĹ̯・ิ  ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr! /ᐠ. 。.ᐟ\ᵐᵉᵒʷˎˊ˗ ʕ•̫͡•ʔ ㅤᵕ̈ ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ ୧⍤⃝💐 ˓˓ ⍥⃝⃝ ˒˒ ႔ ႔ ᠸᵕ ᵕ 𐅠 /)___/) (๑-﹏-๑) 🎸 Some Kaomoji Elements! (to make your own :D) eyes ˊ ˋ  ◞ ◟   .ܸ .ܸ  • •   › ‹  o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅   ≧ ≦ ˇ ˇ  ◜◝    ◡◡⁠  •̀ •́  ^^  ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀   ꈍ ꈍ ⏑ ⏑  ◝ ◜  _ ̫ _  •́ •̀  ⊳⊲  o̴̶̷̤ o̴̶̷̤   ˃̶̤́ ˂̶̤̀ ´ `   -᷅ -᷄   .⁠ .⁠   ߹ ߹  ՞ ՞⁠  ಠ ಠ  ᴗ͈ ᴗ͈ mouths ᵕ  ⤙  ᴖ  Ⱉ   △  ࿁  ꕀ   ‸ ༝  ‿  ⌓  ⩊    ⌑   。  ㅁ  ⇀ ̫  ֊   ᎔   ᗜ   Д⁠   ³  ᯅ   ˬ           noses ˶  ᵜ  ᆺ  ˕  ܫ ˔  ᴥ  ɷ   ̷  ꀾ   ears ᐢ ᐢ   ᕱ ᕱ  ᕬ ᕬ  ᙏ   ᵔ ᵔ  ᐡ ᐡ   ∩∩  ꪒ ꪒ  ՞ ՞  ⍝ ⍝  ᥥ ᥥ  ᘏᘏ hands / arms ก ก  ٩ ۶  ⊃⊂  ᑌ ᑌ  ദ്ദി   ა૮ ฅ ฅ  ੭ ᐣ  っ ς  ੭ ੭  ੭っ  ∩ ∩ brackets 𝇋 𝇌  ૮ ა  ૮₍ ₎ა   ( ິ )ິ  ໒꒰ྀི ྀི꒱७  ૮ ོ ོ𑁬 ₍ ₎  ꒰ ꒱ྀི  ૮꒰ ꒱ა  ᧔ ᧓  ᧔ྀི ᧓ྀི  ʕ ྀི ྀིʔ ꒰ ꒱  ଘ꒰ ꒱  ꒰ ੭ ꒱ ᐣ  𓊆 𓊇  ᑦ꒰ྀིྀི ྀྀི꒱ᐣ   ૮꒰ྀི ꒱ྀིა
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🪭ּ ֶָ֢.๋࣭𓂃𓈒
petition to make this an app! ⭑.ᐟ
⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆
‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡
𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹
⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°
(˶°ㅁ°)!!
/\_/\ (\ __ /) A__A ( ˶•o•˶) ( •ω• ) ( •⤙• ) ଘ(ა🍱) (ა🍙૮)。 (🍜٩ )੭
⊹₊ ⋆
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢀⡠⠤⠒⠒⠲⠤⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠙⡮⣂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣢⠊⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⣦⣂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣝⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠱⣥⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠮⣶⠞⠛⣛⣛⣛⣷⠶⠀⠀⠐⢶⣟⣛⣛⡛⠓⠿⡚⣮⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⢪⠛⠁⠀⣠⣚⣶⣶⡶⡆⡗⠀⠀⠰⡇⣶⣿⣿⣟⡢⠄⠀⠙⣮⢄⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⢦⡋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣳⢆⠀ ⠀⢨⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠀⠀⠀⠈⢯⠄ ⠀⡬⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⡄ ⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡦⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠴⠒⠋⠁⢰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇ ⠰⣳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠛ ⠀⠁⢷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⢵⠙⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠩⠗⠲⠤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⡤⠴⠶⠚⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠂⠈⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀
໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১
(˶ˆᗜˆ˵)
˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。˚
𑁍ࠬܓ𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ ɞ
₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘
please dont post gross stuff on here!! kids who are young like probably 9 year olds are just trying to find cute combos. spread the word, also people who are spreading the word, please do not put curse words. its the same example for kids with the gross things but with curse words. thanks love <3 bye!!
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠤⠖⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠓⠲⠤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠔⠋⢀⠄⠊⠀⠀⠤⢀⠀⠒⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠢⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠖⠁⠀⠀⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠋⠀⠀⢀⣼⠇⢀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⢠⢂⡾⣿⢆⣿⡑⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⢸⠀⣿⡀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⡴⠋⠀⠀⡾⣸⠇⠧⠞⡹⠉⠀⠀⠀⢸⢀⣿⣴⢏⣧⢸⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡆⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠙⠧⢴⡎⠀⠀⣷⣏⣠⣴⣶⣯⡂⠐⠒⠢⠏⠞⣽⠋⠀⠿⢼⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⣷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⢠⠄⠀⡿⣿⠋⣎⣸⣟⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⢦⡀⢸⡂⠀⠀⠐⢸⡀⠛⢤⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⡰⡇⠀⣿⡝⠀⢯⣈⣹⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢣⣾⣛⡇⢻⣾⠁⠀⡆⠀⢸⡿⣶⠒⠚⠉ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⣳⡀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠧⣄⡼⠃⠈⡼⠀⢠⡇⠁⣸⢿⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢷⡀⢿⣷⣤⣀⠀⠀⢄⡀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠇⢐⣼⢁⣴⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠚⠻⠉⠀⣽⣶⣶⡶⠥⠤⣤⣴⣶⣶⢿⠏⣴⣾⣻⣽⠋⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣷⣿⠈⠑⢚⣿⣟⣿⣿⠛⠋⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⢿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡟⣟⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⢯⣿⡞⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣞⡵⣫⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⢳⣿⡷⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡖⣿⣷⣭⠿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⢹⣽⡁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣿⡟⢱⢿⣾⡿⠻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡷⣻⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡽⣞⣿⠉⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⡇⠀⠀⢸⢏⠉⠿⢳⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⢸⢸⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡶⣶⡟⠘⡤⢤⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠉⠁⠀⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀ (\ __ /) (UwU) _ノ ヽ ノ\_ / `/ ⌒Y⌒ Y  \ (  (三ヽ人  /   | | ノ⌒\  ̄ ̄ヽ  ノ ヽ___>、__/ |( 王 ノ〈 /ミ`ー―彡\ |╰ ╯| | /\ | | / \ | | / \ |
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⣠⣀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣵⡶⢶⣶⣦⣄⣠⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⢿⡿⣿⣦⣤⣶⡿⠟⠛⠛⢿⣆⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⠿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⡿⣯⢿⣽⣻⢿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣽⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⢠⣤⣤⣿⣯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⡾⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣾⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣽⣷⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠉⠉⠙⠿⠾⠿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣾⢏⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣾⣽⡿⣿⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⣀⣄⣀⣿⣇⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⡴⣾⣿⡶⢶⡶⢆ ⠚⠉⠉⠙⢻⡏⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠂⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣺⣿⣤⣤⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢳⣿⠷⡾⠦⠔⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⠋⠙⠹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣄⣠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣼⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣎⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⠿⠋⠉⠙⢿⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⢿⠏⠀⠀⠈⠙⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⣻⣷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣶⣾⠟⡫⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⣴⡾⠛⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⢩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠙⠻⣾⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣨⡾⠟⠟⠻⣷⣴⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣧⣀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣧⣴⡿⠛⠻⢷⣆⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢿⡅⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣟⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⢿⣾⣿⣽⡿⣯⣿⣟⣿⣿⣻⣿⣾⣟⣷⣿⣟⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣦⣀⣸⣿⣿⡿⣿⣻⣾⣟⣿⣿⣽⣿⣻⣾⡿⣷⣿⣻⣿⣾⢿⣻⣿⣧⣠⣴⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠉⢿⣿⣿⢿⣟⣿⣽⣿⣻⣾⢿⣾⣿⣷⣿⢿⣽⣿⣳⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⠍⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡟⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠼⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢷⣦⣤⣤⣀⣤⣤⣤⣼⣿⣦⣤⣤⣠⣤⣤⣴⡶⠟⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.~♡︎
Daily reminder to stay safe and take care of your well being, and mental health and your physical health. Yes, i am very proud of you for making it to 2025. You can make it to 2026, i believe in you. I hope you're doing alright, if not then i hope you will be doing alright and recover from all the stuff you've gone through. If you are doing alright im very proud of you, i just hope you know that. Stay safe everyone love yall lots !! <33 ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
If you'd like to report a bug or suggest a feature, you can provide feedback here. Here's our privacy policy. Thanks!
AI Story Generator - AI Chat - AI Image Generator Free