Viii Emojis & Text

I	V	X	L	C	D	M
5	10	50	100	500	1000

🔢

Individual decimal places
Thousands	Hundreds	Tens	Units
M	C	X	I
MM	CC	XX	II
MMM	CCC	XXX	III
CD	XL	IV
D	L	V
DC	LX	VI
DCC	LXX	VII
DCCC	LXXX	VIII
CM	XC	IX

new 🔢 listcore schoolcore i ii iii iv v vi vii viii ix x xi xii xiii xiv xv xvi xvii xviii xix roman alphabet operating system

ⅡⅧ

new roman numeral ii viii roman 28 number 28 twenty-eight latin numbers

JUST A TOUCH viii
(Autistic author)


After dinner, they
retreat to the living room.
Plankton's eye is glued
to the puzzle book on the
coffee table, his antennae
twitching with unspoken
longing. Karen picks it up,
opening to a new page.

"Would you like to work
on this one together?"
she asks, her voice gentle.
He nods, his eye lighting
up with the familiar challenge.

Together, they tackle the
puzzle, Karen's voice a gentle
narration as Plankton's antennae
move in time with her words.

The patterns on the page
hypnotize him, drawing him in.
Plankton's antennae stop
twitching, his focus solely
on the words before him.

And then the doorbell rings,
breaking the spell. Karen's
heart skips a beat, her hand
tightening around the puzzle
book. Plankton's head snaps up,
his eye wide with alarm. "Who
is it?" he asks, his voice
sharp.

Karen's eyes dart to the clock.
"It's probably SpongeBob,"
she murmurs. Plankton's antennae
perk up at the mention of his
friend's name. "Party," he says,
his voice hopeful. Karen nods,
swiping at the tear that's
managed to escape. "Yes, Plankton.
SpongeBob's probably here
to invite us to a party at the
Krusty Krab. Do you
think you're up for it?" she asks,
her voice tentative.

Plankton's antennae droop
slightly. "Maybe," he says,
his voice unsure. The thought
of the bright lights and loud
noises at the party sends a
shiver of anxiety through
his tiny body. But the
prospect of seeing Sponge
Bob is tempting.

Karen sighs, understanding
his hesitation. She walks
to the door, her movements
slow and deliberate. Sponge
Bob's cheerful greeting floods
the hallway. "Hey,
Karen! Plankton! You guys
coming to the party?"

"Hey, Sponge Bob," she says,
her smile forced. "What's the
occasion?"

Sponge Bob's face lights up
like a Christmas tree, his
spongy body bobbing with
excitement. "Mr. Krabs is
throwing a bash at the
Krusty Krab!" he says, his
hands gesturing wildly. "You
guys are coming, right?"

Plankton's antennae quiver
at the mention of the party.
The thought of the loud
noises and the jostling
crowd makes his stomach
churn, but the prospect of
seeing his friend shines like
a beacon through the fog
of his fear.

Karen watches him,
reading his emotions like
a book. "It's okay," she says,
her voice a gentle reminder.
"We can go for a little bit."

Plankton nods, his antennae
still. "Okay," he says, his voice
barely a whisper. Karen can
see the internal struggle
playing out across his features.
"Just stay as long as you're
comfortable," she adds. "I'll
just stay, you go with him."

Sponge Bob's eyes light up.
"Great!" he says, bending
down to hold his hand. He
holds his finger as they go.

Plankton's grip is tight,
his antennae flat against
his head. The noise of the
Krusty Krab is a cacophony
of sounds, each one
stabbing at his heightened
senses. But the warmth of
Sponge Bob's hand, the
familiarity of their friendship,
anchors him.

Mr. Krabs sees Plankton
clinging to Sponge Bob's 
side.

"What's going on, laddie?"
he asks, his voice gruff but
concerned at the sight of
their hands.

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his gaze darting
to the floor. Mr. Krabs' 
eyes narrow.

"Why did ye invite
Plankton?" he asks
with suspicion.

Sponge Bob's smile
doesn't waver. "Well,
he's always welcome..."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow.
"But he's our enemy.."

Sponge Bob's smile
doesn't waver. "He's my friend,"
he says firmly. "And I'm watching
to make sure he won't steal any
thing, boss.."

Mr. Krabs' eyes soften,
his suspicion giving way to
reluctant acceptance. "Alright,
but keep an eye on him," he says,
his voice gruff.

Sponge Bob nods, his grip
on Plankton's hand tightening.
Plankton's antennae quiver,
his heart racing at the sudden
influx of stimulation. The
colorful lights, the smells of
frying food, the laughter of
the patrons—it's all so
much. But Sponge Bob's hand is
warm, a lifeline in the chaos.

They move through the
crowd, Plankton's steps small and
careful. His eye darts around,
trying to take it all in without
getting overwhelmed. Sponge
Bob's voice cuts through the
noise like a knife. "You okay,
buddy?" he asks, his smile
concerned. Plankton nods, his
voice a strained whisper. "Good,"
Sponge Bob says, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's.

As they reach the party
area, Plankton's antennae start to
wave erratically. The lights
are too bright, the sounds too
loud. He clutches Sponge
Bob's hand tighter. 
Plankton takes a deep breath,
his chest expanding with the
effort. It's like trying to
swim through jello, his senses
on high alert.

Sponge Bob feels the
change in his friend's grip,
his own heart racing with
concern. "You okay, Plankton?"
he asks again, his voice
barely audible over the din.
Plankton nods, his eye
focused on the floor. The
pattern of the tiles is
soothing, grounding him amidst
the chaos.

A flash of pink darts
through the crowd, and Plankton's
antennas twitch. "Patrick!"
Sponge Bob says, letting go
of Plankton's hand.

Plankton looks around and
sees Squidward doing the
dishes, but in a disorganized
manner that Plankton needs
to correct.

The sight of the
scattered plates, the water spots
on the glasses, sends a jolt of
anxiety through him. His
compulsion to straighten, to
organize, to make it right, is
almost unbearable. So he goes
to Squidward by the sink to interfere.

Squidward glances up, his
tentacles frozen mid-wash. "What
are you doing here?" he snaps.

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his gaze fixated on the mess.
"Help," he says, his voice tight.

Squidward rolls his eyes, grabbing
another plate to wash as he ignores
Plankton.

Plankton's antennae quiver, his
eye darting between the chaos
and Squidward's dismissal. He's
doing the dishes wrong and needs
him to help!

"Squidward, let Plankton assist,"
he says, his voice formal.
Squidward sighs, shaking his
head.

"Look, I don't have time for
this," he says, his tentacles
moving rapidly. Plankton's
body tenses, his need for
meticulousness consuming him.

As Plankton approaches Squidward,
his movements are precise, almost
mechanical. His antennae twitch
in time with his racing thoughts,
his need for order a silent
scream in the noisy room. He
holds out his hand, palm up.
"Wash," he says, his voice firm.
Squidward pauses, eyeing him
warily. "What?"

Plankton's gaze is unwavering,
his voice steady. "Smudges.
Wash dishes. Correct way."

Squidward's grip on the plate
slackens, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you mean?"

Plankton's antennae wave
frantically. "Correct way,"
he repeats, his voice a
desperate whisper. "No smudges.
Wrong order."

Squidward's tentacles still,
his gaze sharpening. "What's
gotten into you?" he asks, his voice
filled with skepticism.

Plankton's antennae twitch.
"No smudges," he says again,
his voice a mix of urgency and
desperation. Squidward sets
the plate down with a clatter.
"What are you on about, Plankton?"

But Plankton's focus is solely
on the task at hand. He reaches
for the dish soap, his movements
precise.

Squidward watches him, his
expression a mix of annoyance
and curiosity. "What's going on?"
he asks, his voice gruff. Plankton's
antennas twitch, his eye darting
to Squidward. "Just helping,"
he says, his voice flat as he puts
the now clean dish away. But he
sees imperfections on some of the
clean dishes, handing them over
for Squidward to wash as he straightens
up the other plates.

Squidward's eyebrows furrow,
his gaze flicking between Plankton
and the dishes. "What are you
doing?" he asks again. Plankton's
grip on the towel tightens, his
body vibrating with the need for
perfection. "It's not right,"
he says, his voice strained. "Has to be
right."

"Those I've cleaned!" Squidward
says as Plankton puts them in
the sink for him to wash over
again. "Squidward look. No..."

But before Plankton can
finish, Squidward snatches the plate
from his tentacles. "Look, I don't
have time for your... whatever
this is," he says, his voice gruff. He
takes it and haphazardly shoves
it with smaller plates. Plankton
can't take the misalignment!

Plankton's antennae stand on
end, his eye wide with horror.
"No!" he says, his voice rising.
"Wrong order!" His hands
shake as he tries to grab the
plate, his mind racing with
the need to correct the mistake.

Squidward pulls away, his
expression a mix of confusion
and irritation. "Plankton, what's
wrong with you?" he snaps.

"Plankton's centrum semiovale has
restricted inhibitory synaptic
transmission!" Plankton's
voice is a mix of panic and
frustration, his antennae waving
wildly. Squidward's eyes narrow,
his grip on the plate tightening.
"What are you talking about? I
am not going to wash this again,"
he says, his tone firm.

Squidward's words hit a nerve,
triggering a cascade of emotions
in Plankton. "It's not
about Squidward!" he says, his voice
sharp. "It's about the order! Cleanliness..."

"PLANKTON I SAID NO!" Squidward
yells, startling him as he turns back
to the sink.

new just a touch neurodisability viii

NEW REALITY viii
(Autistic author)

"I don't
understand," she says, her voice
filled with distress.

Plankton's hand clenches, his
body vibrating with tension.
"Numbers," he repeats, his voice
edging on a scream. "They
make quiet."

Hanna's eyes widen, her smile
fading to a look of horror.
"But Plankton," she says, her voice
shaking, "it's just a clock."

But her words are like fuel
on the fire of his distress.
He steps closer to the clock,
his hand outstretched as if
to will it to silence. "Numbers,"
he whispers, his voice a
plea. "They make quiet."

Hanna's eyes fill with
sympathy, but her words only
worsen his agitation. "Plankton,
it's just a clock," she says,
reaching out to touch him.

Karen's heart hammers in
her chest as she sees his
body tense even further.
"Hanna, don't," she warns, her
voice tight. "Please don't touch
him right now."

But Hanna doesn't hear her,
her own voice rising with
frustration. "It's just a clock,
Plankton," she repeats, her hand
covering his shoulder. "Nothing's
going to hurt you.."

The touch sends him spiraling,
his body convulsing with
overstimulation. "No touch!"
he screams, his hand slapping
at her arm, his face a mask of
fear and anger.

But Plankton's outburst has
ignited something in Hanna,
a spark of anger.

"Why can't you just be normal?"
she snaps, her voice echoing
through the tense room.

Karen's heart breaks as
Plankton's eye goes wide, his
body jerking away from her.
"Hanna, please," she says,
her voice tight with pain.

But Hanna's words keep coming,
a barrage of misunderstanding.
"You can't just ignore us,"
she says, her voice rising. "You have
to interact with the world."

Plankton's body recoils, his
skin seemingly vibrating with each
of her words. "Interact," he echoes,
his voice strained.

Karen's heart is in her throat.
"Hanna, please," she says, her
voice tight with pain. "You're
not helping."

But Hanna's eyes are
glassy with frustration. "How
can I help if he won't even
look at me?" she asks,
ignoring the desperation in
Plankton's gaze as she holds
his arms tightly.

Karen's eyes plead with her,
but Hanna's grip doesn't loosen.
"Let go," Plankton whimpers,
his voice tight with tension.

Hanna's smile is forced,
her grip unyielding. "Look at me,
Plankton," she says, her voice
laced with irritation. "You can't
just..."

But her words cut him like
knives. "Look
away," he murmurs, his voice
strained, his body begging for
the pressure to ease.

Hanna's smile falters, her
grip tightening. "Why can't
you just look at me?" she asks,
her voice edged with annoyance.

Plankton's breath hitches,
his antennae drooping. "Can't," he
whispers, his gaze flickering
between her and Karen.

Hanna's eyes narrow, her
grip on his arms tightening.
"You can," she insists, her
voice firm. "Just..."

But Plankton's whimpers
grow louder, his body
shaking with the effort
to pull away.

Hanna's smile fades, her
grip tightening in frustration.
"Why can't you just be like
everyone else?" she asks, her
tone no longer gentle.

Plankton's whimpers become
sobs, his body shaking with
the effort to break free.
Karen's eyes are wet with
unshed tears as she watches
the scene unfold, her heart
breaking for him.

Hanna's grip remains firm,
her expression a mix of
confusion and annoyance.
"Why are you doing this?"
she demands, her voice
sharp. "You're just being
difficult."

Plankton's sobs grow more
desperate, his body
twisting in her grasp.
"Let go," he whispers, his voice
a strained plea.

Hanna's eyes flash with
irritation. "Why ca--"

Her words are cut off by
Karen's firm voice. "Hanna,
please," she says, stepping
between them. "You're
upsetting him."

But Hanna's confusion turns
to anger. "How can I not
be upset?" she retorts, her
grip on Plankton's arms
tightening. "He won't even..."

Her words are cut off by
Karen's firm voice. "Please,
Hanna," she says, her eyes
pleading. "You don't
understand."

Suddenly, Plankton's legs
buckle, his body going slack
as Hanna finally releases
his arms. He crumples to
the floor. He's retreating, Karen
realizes, her heart racing.
He's retreating into himself.

Karen's eyes fill with
fear as she watches him, his
sobs subsiding into quiet
whimpers. "Plankton," she
whispers, her voice a prayer.

Hanna's face falls, her anger
replaced with shock. "What's
wrong with him?" she asks,
her voice trembling.

Karen's eyes are wet with
unshed tears as she crouches
beside him. "It's a condition,"
she says, her voice tight with
frustration. "He needs time
and space to process everything."

Hanna's face crumples, her
hands going to her mouth.
"I didn't know," she whispers,
her eyes wide with regret.
"I'm sorry."

Karen nods, her gaze never
leaving Plankton's huddled
form. "It's not your fault,"
she says, her voice thick with
emotion. "But we all have
to learn."

Hanna nods, her eyes
brimming with tears.

Karen wraps her arms
around Plankton, her
touch gentle. "It's okay,"
she murmurs. "I'm here."
He trembles against her,
sobbing.

Hanna stands there,
apology etched in every
line of her face. "What can
I do?" she whispers.

Karen looks up, her eyes
wet. "Just give us a moment,"
she says, her voice a gentle
command.

Hanna nods, backing away
slowly, her eyes on Plankton.
"Okay," she murmurs, the weight
of her words heavy in the
silent room.

Karen holds Plankton tightly,
his body a trembling mass
of emotion. "It's okay,"
she whispers, her voice a
soothing balm. "You're safe."

He nests his head into
her shoulder, his whimpers
softening to quiet sobs.
The room feels thick with
their shared pain, the air
charged with the tension
of misunderstanding.

Hanna's eyes dart around,
looking for anything that might
soothe him.

Karen's gaze meets hers,
a silent plea for understanding.

"It's called autism," Karen says softly,
her voice a gentle explanation.

Hanna's eyes widen, her face
a canvas of realization. "Oh," she
whispers, the word a soft
exhalation of breath.

Karen nods, her gaze never
leaving Plankton's tear-stained
face. "It's a spectrum,"
she says, her voice calm and
steady. "And he's on a part
of it that's very sensitive to
stimulation."

Hanna nods slowly, her
understanding growing. "I'm
sorry," she says, her voice
full of regret. "I didn't know."

Karen's grip tightens around
Plankton's shoulders. "It's okay,"
she murmurs. "We're all still
learning."

Hanna nods, her eyes never
leaving Plankton's trembling
form. "I'll go," she says, her voice
small. "I didn't mean..."

Karen nods, her gaze
steady. "Thank you," she whispers.
"We can talk soon."

Hanna nods, her eyes filled
with sadness. "Of course," she says,
turning to leave.

The door clicks shut behind her,
leaving Karen and Plankton in the
heavy silence. Karen's arms
remain around him, her body
a protective cocoon against
the harshness of the world.

Plankton's sobs slowly
ease into quiet sniffs, his body
still trembling in her embrace.
Her heart aches for the pain
he's feeling, the fear that
Hanna's misunderstanding
has brought to the surface.

"I'm sorry," she whispers
to him, her voice
shaking.

Plankton's trembles begin
to subside, his breathing
evening out. He pulls back,
his eye searching hers. "No,"
he murmurs, his voice hoarse
from crying. "Not at fault."

Karen's eyes fill with
relief, her grip on him
loosening slightly. "It's
okay," she says, her voice
a gentle caress. "We just need
to find ways to help you."

Plankton nods, his eye
fluttering shut.

Karen's mind races with
thoughts of what more she
can do, what she can say
to make him feel safe.

"We'll get through this,"
she says, her voice a promise.
"Together."

Plankton's eye opens,
his gaze meeting hers.
"Together," he echoes, his
voice a whisper.

Karen's heart swells with
love for him, her eyes
shimmering with determination.
"We'll find what works,"
she says, her voice firm.

Plankton nods, his gaze
dropping to the floor.
"Thanks," he murmurs, his
voice barely audible. "Tired.."

Karen's heart breaks at the
exhaustion etched into his
features. "I got you, you
can rest," she says, her
voice a gentle whisper.

They move to the couch,
Plankton's body curling into
her side. She wraps the
weighted blanket around him,
still within their embrace.

His breathing slows, his body
relaxing against hers. The
whirring fan above offers
a steady rhythm, a lullaby for
his troubled mind.

Karen's hand strokes his
back in gentle circles, her
thumb tracing patterns that
seem to soothe his nerves.

The fan's steady whir
fills the room, a calming
symphony that lulls Plankton's
racing thoughts to a crawl.

Karen's thumb moves in
soothing circles on his back,
each pass sending a ripple
of comfort through him.

Plankton's breathing evens,
his body slack against hers.
The fan's steady hum is a
lullaby in the quiet room,
a metronome for his racing
thoughts.

Karen's hand continues its
soothing dance across his back,
his eye finally closing.

The room is a cocoon of
silence, the fan's whisper the
only sound breaking the stillness.

Plankton's breathing slows,
his body melts into Karen's embrace.
Her hand continues its gentle
caress, a metronome of comfort as
he finally surrenders to sleep.

new new reality hannacore viii

⟡ pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

→ AI Story Generator ←

completely free, NO signup required (ever), and unlimited!

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS viii

(Autistic Author)


They sit in silence for a few moments, 
the sound of Plankton's slowing breaths 
filling the space. Karen's mind races with 
the conversation they need to have with 
Chip.

"How do we explain it?" Plankton asks, 
finally breaking the silence. His 
antennae still, his eye looking at the 
floor.

"We tell him the truth," Karen says firmly. 
"But we also remind him of all the 
wonderful things you do for him, all the 
ways you show him love."

Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping 
further. "I know I'm not the dad he 
deserves," he murmurs.

Karen's voice is firm, but filled with 
warmth. "You are the dad he needs," 
she corrects. "And we'll get through this 
together."

Finally, Plankton's 
antennae perk up slightly. "I'm sorry," he 
says again, his voice still thick with 
emotion.

Karen nods. "I know," she says softly. 
"But we can't keep hiding this from him. 
He needs to understand."

Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping. 
"I know," he admits. "I just don't know 
where to start."

Karen gives his hand a gentle squeeze. 
"We'll start by talking to him," she says, 
her voice strong and reassuring. "When 
you're ready."

They sit there for a while longer, the 
rhythm of Plankton's breathing slowly 
returning to normal. Karen's mind is 
racing with thoughts of how to navigate this 
chapter in their lives. How to help Chip 
understand his father's condition without scaring 
him or making him feel responsible.

Finally, Plankton turns to her, his antennae still shaky. 
"What do we do now?" he asks, his voice a mix of exhaustion and fear.

Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes filled with resolve. 
"First," she says, "we make sure you're ok."

They sit there, the only sound in the room the distant 
hum of the TV. Plankton's antennae are still, his eye 
focused on the floor. Karen's hand remains on his 
back, a silent promise that she's there for him.

"Let's get you to bed," she says softly. "You need to rest."

With her help, Plankton stands, his legs wobbly from 
the intense episode. Together, they make their way 
to their bedroom, the quiet of the house a stark 
contrast to the emotional upheaval they've just 
experienced.

Once Plankton is tucked into bed, Karen sits beside 
him, her hand resting on his arm. "We'll get through 
this," she says, her voice a gentle reassurance in the 
stillness. "We're a family."

Plankton's antennae twitch with a hint of doubt, and 
he looks up at her, his eye searching hers for 
understanding. "But what if I can't?"

Karen's gaze is unwavering. "You can," she says 
firmly. "You're strong, Plankton. And we're here to 
help you."

Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods slowly. 
"Ok," he whispers. "Ok."

Karen leans in, kissing his forehead. "Rest," she 
says. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

With a nod, Plankton closes his eye, and Karen slips 
out of the room, leaving the door open a crack. She 
heads to Chip's room, heavy with the weight of the 
conversation they need to have.

Chip is lying on his bed, his small form wrapped in a 
blanket, staring at the ceiling. His eyes are red, and 
he looks up as Karen enters.

"Hey, buddy," she says softly, sitting beside him. 
"Can we talk?"

Chip nods, his eyes still wet with tears. "What's 
wrong with Daddy?" he asks, his voice shaky.

Karen takes a deep breath, choosing her words 
carefully. "Daddy has something called Autism, 
sweetie," she says, her voice gentle. "It makes his 
brain work a bit differently from ours. Sometimes, 
when he's really upset or overwhelmed, his body can 
react in ways that might seem strange or scary."

Chip's eyes are wide with curiosity, and he nods 
slowly. "Is that why he gets so mad?" he asks.

Karen takes a moment before responding. "Sometimes, yes," 
she says. "It's his way of dealing 
with big feelings. But it's not because he's mad at you, ok?"

Chip nods, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. 
"But why does he get so mad?" he asks again, his 
voice quivering.

Karen sighs, her hand stroking him. "Daddy gets 
overwhelmed by his feelings, and it's hard for him to 
express them," she explains. "Sometimes, when he 
can't find the right words or when things get too 
much, he feels like he's going to break apart. That's 
what we call a meltdown."

Chip sniffs, his eyes glued to the ceiling. "It's like 
when I'm really sad and I don't want to talk?"

Karen nods, her heart swelling with love for her son's 
empathy. "Exactly," she says. "And just like you, 
Daddy needs some space when that happens."

Chip looks at her, his eyes serious. "But what if I 
want to show him my affection?"

Karen smiles sadly. "You can, Chip," she says. "Just 
remember to be gentle, and maybe use words or 
gestures that aren't to overwhelming for him."

Chip nods, his eyes still on the ceiling. "But what if I 
make it worse?" he whispers.

Karen's heart clenches at his fear, and she takes his 
hand in hers. "Sometimes, we just need to learn new 
ways to show and receive love."

Chip nods, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
"Ok," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Karen leans in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. 
"You're brave," she says, her voice filled with pride.

"But what about the rock he broke?" Chip asks, his 
voice still shaky.

Karen sighs, her eyes meeting his. "Daddy didn't 
mean to scare you," she says. "Sometimes, when 
people are upset, they do things they don't mean to. 
It's part of how they cope."

Chip nods, his grip on her hand tightening. "But 
Dad now," he says again, his voice small.

"We'll give him some time to rest," Karen assures him. 
"And tomorrow, we'll talk about it more."

With that, she tucks the blanket around him and turns 
to leave. As she reaches the door, Chip's voice stops 
her. "Mom," he says, his tone tentative. "Can I go to Daddy?"

Karen's heart skips a beat, and she looks back at 
him, her eyes filled with both concern and hope. "Do 
you think that's a good idea, sweetie?"

Chip nods. "I want to tell him I love him," he says, his 
voice barely above a whisper.

Karen's heart squeezes. "Ok," she says, taking a 
deep breath. "But remember, we need to be gentle 
with him right now. Let's go to his room together."

They tiptoe down the hall, the house eerily quiet. 
Karen can feel Chip's hand in hers, small and warm 
and trembling slightly. When they reach the bedroom, 
she opens the door quietly and peeks in. Plankton is 
lying on his back, his antennae still, his chest rising 
and falling with deep, even breaths.

They approach the bed, and Karen can see the 
tension in Plankton's body, even in sleep. She
whispers to Chip, "Remember, sweetie, just a little. 
And if he wakes up, tell him you love him."

Chip nods solemnly, and together, they tiptoe to the 
bedside. Chip extends a tentative hand and gently 
pats Plankton's arm. Plankton's antennae twitch, but 
he doesn't wake. "I love you, Daddy," Chip whispers, 
his voice quivering.

Karen's eyes fill with tears at the sight of her son's 
bravery and love. She gives Chip's hand a squeeze.
"That was perfect," she says, her voice barely a 
murmur.

They stand there for a moment, watching Plankton's 
chest rise and fall in the dim light of the moon 
peeking through the curtains. Then, with a heavy 
heart, Karen leads Chip back to his room.

Once Chip is tucked in, she kisses his forehead and 
whispers, "You're a brave boy, and I'm so proud of 
you." His eyes, still red and swollen from crying, 
meet hers with a quiet understanding beyond his 
years.

new chip off the old talks neurodivergentcore viii

GREAT CHIP viii
(Autistic author)

When Plankton finally came out
Chip approached with caution. He didn't want to scare
his dad, didn't want to cause another seizure.
"Hey, Dad," he said softly. "How are
you feeling today?"

Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye
flicking towards Chip. "Tired," he murmured,
his voice hoarse from sleep. "But okay."

Chip felt his chest tighten with relief.
He'd been worried about his dad all night,
scared that another seizure would strike 
without warning.

"Can we talk?" Chip asked, his voice
gentle as he approached Plankton.
He didn't want to push, but he needed
to make sure they were okay.

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
eye searching Chip's face. "Of course,"
he said, his voice still groggy.
He sat down at the kitchen table,
his body language open but cautious.

Chip took a deep breath, his heart
racing with the need to get this right.
"Dad, I know last night was...
scary," he began, his voice shaky.
"But I want to be there for you."

Plankton's antennae waved slightly,
his expression a mix of confusion and
fatigue. "What do you mean?" he asked,
his voice still thick with sleep.

Chip took a deep breath, trying
to find the right words. "I mean,
I want to understand your seizures
and what you go through," he said,
his eyes never leaving his father's.
"So that maybe I can help."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye
narrowing slightly. "What do you want
to know?" he asked, his voice a mix
of curiosity and caution.

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his thoughts racing. "Everything," he said,
his voice earnest. "What happens
before, during, and after. What you feel,
what you see..."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
face scrunching up slightly. "Why?"
he snapped, his voice sharp. "What's
the point of reliving it?"

Chip took a step back, surprised
by his father's sudden irritation.
"I just want to understand,"
he said, his voice tentative.

Plankton's antennae waved erratically,
his eye flashing. "It's not a show, Chip,"
he snapped. "It's not something to be
poked and prodded at."

Chip felt his cheeks flush with heat,
his hands balled into fists at his sides.
"I'm not trying to pry," he said, his voice
shaking with frustration. "I just want to help!"

Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye
narrowed. "You can't help," he said,
his voice cold. "You don't get it."

Chip's heart sank, feeling the distance
between them growing wider. "But Dad,"
he began, his voice trembling. "I'm trying."

Plankton's antennae twitched rapidly,
his face a mask of agitation. "You can't,"
he said, his voice clipped. "You don't know
what it's like!"

Chip felt a wave of frustration
crash over him, his hands
clenching into fists. "That's why
I'm asking!" he exclaimed. "I'm not
trying to make it about me!"

Plankton's focusing solely on Chip.
"You don't get it," he said, his voice
softening slightly. "It's not about you,
but it's also not something you can fix."

Chip's eyes searched his dad's,
his heart racing with a mix of anger
and hurt. He knew Plankton wasn't
trying to be cruel, but the words stung.
"I just want to be there for you,"
he said, his voice shaky. "To make
sure you're okay."

Plankton's antennae twitched rapidly,
his eye flashing with agitation. "I don't
need you to fix me," he snapped, his voice
sharp as a knife. "I just need you to leave me
alone sometimes."

Chip took a step back, his eyes
watering with the sting of his father's
words. "I just want..."

"I know what you want," Plankton cut
in, his antennae vibrating with irritation.
"But you can't fix this, Chip. It's not a puzzle
you can solve with a pat on the back or a hug."

The room grew tense, the air thick
with unspoken words. Chip felt his throat
tighten, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.
He knew his father's snappy tone was a defense
mechanism, a way to keep the world at bay
when it all became too much. But it still hurt.

new great chip arguecore viii

CATCH IN MY CHIP viii
(Autistic author)

The room is bathed in a soft
moonlight, the shadows playing
across Plankton's sleeping features. His
body, once taut with tension,
has relaxed into the embrace
of the bed, his arm curled
around a pillow. His antennas
now rest gently on the
pillowcase, no longer quivering
with agitation.

Karen watches him sleep, her
thoughts a jumble of worry and
love. She knows he's tired, that the
weight of the world can be too
much for him to bear at times. But
she also knows that he's strong,
that he'll face tomorrow with
determination.

The first light of dawn filters
through the curtains, painting the
room in soft shades of pink and
orange. Karen gently squeezes his
shoulder before standing, her eyes
never leaving his peaceful face.
She knows that today will be a
day of apologies and
understanding, of teaching Chip
about his dad's autism and how to
navigate the world around him.

With a soft sigh, she heads to
Chip's room, her footsteps silent
on the cool floor. She opens the door
to find him sitting up in bed,
his eyes red and puffy from crying.
He looks at her.

"Is Dad okay?" he asks, his
voice thick with sleep and the
remnants of his earlier distress.

Karen nods, her eyes filled
with a quiet determination. "We'll
talk to him when he wakes up."

The words hang in the air, a gentle
reminder of the conversation that
needs to be had. Chip nods, his eyes
still puffy from crying. He clutches
his pillow, the fabric damp from
his tears.

"But what do I do?" he asks, his
voice small and scared. "How do
I make sure I don't make him
upset again?"

Karen sits on the edge of the bed,
her hand stroking his. "You
just keep being you, Chip," she
says, her voice warm. "Daddy loves
you, and we'll learn together how
to make sure he doesn't get
overwhelmed."

Chip nods, his eyes searching
hers for reassurance. "But what
about my trophy?" he asks, his
voice still shaky.

Karen's hand stops, her gaze
dropping to the shard of plastic
he holds tightly in his fist. "We'll
fix it," she says, her voice
filled with conviction. "Together."

The promise brings a small
smile to Chip's face, his eyes
lighting up. "Really?"

Karen nods, her own smile
genuine. "Of course, honey,"
she says. "We're a family. We
stick together."

With that, she stands up, her
body weary but her spirit
resolute. The room feels
lighter somehow, the air less
charged with tension.

Chip clambers out of bed, his
small hand reaching for hers.
Together, they walk to the
bedroom, the shattered
remnants of the trophy
glinting in the early light.

Plankton is still asleep,
his chest rising and falling in
a steady rhythm. Chip
looks at him, his eyes filled
with a mix of sadness and
curiosity.

"We'll talk to him when he
wakes up," Karen says, her voice
soft.

They sit beside Plankton's
bed, the room still and quiet.
Chip's hand trembles slightly as
he holds the broken piece
of trophy. "But what if he's still
mad?" he whispers, his voice
barely above the silence.

Karen's hand squeezes his.
"He'll understand," she says,
her voice filled with a calm
certainty. "He loves you, and he
knows you didn't mean to hurt
him."

The words are a gentle balm
to Chip's fears, but the doubt
lingers. He nods, his gaze
never leaving his father.

"Remember, Chip," Karen says, her
voice a soft whisper. "Daddy's
brain is different."

Chip nods, his eyes fixed on
his dad's sleeping form. He's
seen Plankton stressed before,
but never like this. He wants to
show him love.

With tentative steps, he moves
closer to the bed, his heart
beating a staccato in his chest.
He reaches out, his hand shaking
slightly as he hovers it over
his dad's arm.

"Chip," Karen whispers, her hand
covering his. "Remember, gentle."
Her words are a gentle
reminder of the invisible lines
that can be crossed.

Chip nods, his eyes on Plankton's
peaceful face. He takes a deep
breath, his hand steadying. Slowly,
so slowly it's almost imperceptible,
he brings his palm to rest
on Plankton's forearm, his touch
as light as a feather.

Plankton's body tenses for a
moment, a reflexive reaction to
the sudden contact. Chip holds
his breath, waiting, hoping.
Then, almost imperceptibly, he feels
his dad's arm relax under his hand.

"It's okay," Karen whispers, her
voice a gentle breeze. "He's okay."

Chip's hand remains hovering, his
heart in his throat. Plankton's
body remains still, his breathing
even. Karen's touch is a guide,
her hand resting on Chip's.

"It's okay," she whispers, her voice
a soft encouragement. "You can
do it."

With a deep breath, Chip's hand
descends, his fingertips brushing
against Plankton's arm.

Plankton's antennas twitch.
Karen watches, her eyes never
leaving her husband's face.

Chip's hand hovers, his
heart racing. He wants to
reassure his dad, to let him
know he's there. He's
learned about space and
understanding, but all he
can think of is the warmth of
his touch, the comfort
he craves to give.

His fingertips graze Plankton's
arm, the contact so light it's
barely there. He watches,
waiting for a reaction, for a
sign that he's crossed the line.
But Plankton remains still,
his breathing unchanged.

Encouraged, Chip presses down
slightly, his hand a soft
weight on his father's arm.
He feels the warmth of his
skin, the steady pulse beneath.
It's a tentative connection,
fragile as spider silk.

Plankton's antennas quiver,
but his body remains still.
Chip's heart hammers in his chest,
his breaths shallow and quick.
He's afraid to move, afraid
to break the spell.

Karen watches, her eyes
filled with a quiet hope.
The air in the room is thick
with anticipation.

Chip's hand hovers over
Plankton's arm, trembling
slightly with nerves and
love. He's unsure if this
small gesture will be met
with anger or acceptance.

Karen's gaze is a silent
cheer, urging him on. Plankton's
breaths remain steady, his body
still. Chip's heart is a
drum in his chest, each beat
a silent plea for
understanding.

With a tremble, he lets his hand
settle, his fingertips barely
grazing the fabric of the blanket.
He feels the heat of Plankton's skin,
the rise and fall of his chest.
It's a gentle touch, the lightest
of caresses.

Karen's hand remains on his,
guiding him, encouraging him.
Plankton's breaths remain steady,
his body still. Chip's eyes
are wide with hope, his hand
poised above the blanket.

With a tremble, he lets his
fingers come to rest on the
cotton, feeling the warmth
of his father's arm beneath.
He holds his breath, waiting
for a reaction, for any sign
that he's done the right thing.

Plankton's body remains still,
his breathing unchanged.
Karen's eyes are glued to
his face, watching for any
hint of distress. But there's
none. Only the gentle rise
and fall of his chest, a testament
to his deep sleep.

Chip's hand is a butterfly
landing on Plankton's arm, his
fingers fluttering slightly
against the warmth of his
skin. He's never felt so
exposed, so vulnerable. But
his love for his dad is stronger
than his fear.

Karen watches the silent
exchange, her heart in her throat.
The moment feels sacred, a
testament to their growing
understanding of each other.

Chip's hand remains on Plankton's
arm, the warmth of his touch a
promise of comfort and love.
He's afraid to move, afraid to
disrupt the delicate balance.
Karen's hand is a soft presence,
guiding him, giving him
the courage to stay.

Plankton's breaths are slow
and even, his body relaxed.
Chip wonders if he's dreaming, if he's
in a world where the sensory
overload doesn't exist. His heart
swells with hope, with the
desire to protect his dad from
the world's harshness.

Karen's hand on his is
a gentle reminder that he's not
alone. She gives him a small,
encouraging nod, her eyes filled
with understanding. He takes a
deep breath, his hand moving
slowly, so slowly, to cover his dad's.

The moment their skin
touches, it's like a dam breaks.
Chip feels a rush of warmth, a
connection that's been missing.
He squeezes Plankton's arm lightly,
his heart pounding. He's afraid to
move, afraid to breathe too loudly.

Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's face, watching for any
sign of distress. But his features
remain relaxed, his antennas
still. The room is a sanctuary
of quiet, the only sound their
melded breaths. Chip feels a
lump form in his throat, his eyes
welling with tears.

He whispers, "Thank you," to
his mom, his voice shaky with
emotion. She nods, her hand
still covering his. "Remember,"
she says, her voice a soft
caress. "Gentle."

With trembling fingers, Chip
tucks the blanket closer around
Plankton, the fabric smoothing
over his shoulders. It's a
tiny act of love, a silent
apology. He wants to crawl into
the bed beside him, to wrap
his arms around his dad..

He looks up at Karen, his
eyes pleading. "Can I?"

Karen nods, her smile sad
but understanding. "Just be
careful not to wake him,"
she whispers.

With the grace of a
cat burglar, Chip slides into the
bed, his movements slow and
calculated. He's careful not
to disturb the sheets, not to
make a sound that could break
the tranquil silence.

Plankton's arm is a warm
mound beside him, and he
reaches out tentatively, his
fingers seeking the comfort
of his dad's skin. He finds it,
his hand coming to rest lightly
on the crook of his elbow.
The connection feels right,
like finding a piece of himself
he didn't know was lost.

He snuggles closer, his head
resting on the pillow beside
Plankton's.

Karen watches, her heart
swelling with love for her son.
"It's ok," she whispers. "Just be
gentle."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II viii

CHIP AND FAIL viii
(Autistic author)

Karen's hand was a lifeline,
her voice a gentle guide. "Chip,"
she called out.
"We need to talk."

Chip stopped in the hallway. 
Why was Dad acting so
weird? He turned to face his
mother, his eyes brimming with
unshed tears. "What's wrong with
him?" he demanded, his voice
filled with accusation. "He doesn't
deserve to be called my dad if
he can't even..."
But that's when it happens.
That's when Plankton started
hyperventilating, and that's
when Plankton can't take
anymore.
That's when it happened.
Chip's words were like a match
striking too close to a powder keg.
Plankton's breath hitched, his antennae
twitching erratically. Karen rushed to
his side, her screen wide with concern.
"Babe, you okay?" she asked, her voice
a gentle caress. She holds her arms
out to catch Plankton.

But Plankton's mind was a
whirlwind, his body a live wire.
He couldn't answer, couldn't find
the words to explain the chaos
that was his reality. His antennae
trembled as he struggled to
breathe, his body rigid with fear.
He had hoped to keep this
hidden, to protect Chip from the
truth, but it was too much.
The storm inside him grew
wilder, each breath a battle.

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, his own confusion
mirroring the chaos in the
room. "What's wrong with you?"
he repeated, his voice a mix of anger
and desperation.

But Plankton's mind was a tornado,
his thoughts swirling too fast
for words. He could feel his chest
constrict, his heart pounding
like a drum.

Karen watched her son's screen,
seeing the hurt in his eyes, the
misunderstanding etched
deep. She took a deep breath,
knowing the moment had arrived.
"Chip," she began, her voice
soft but firm, "there's something
you need to know about your dad."

Chip looked at her, his expression
a mix of anger and confusion. "What
could possibly make him act like
this?" he spat, poking Plankton hard. "Why
did you marry him? He's just nothing but..."

"Chip," Karen said firmly, taking his
hands in hers, when Plankton
starts to wheeze heavily, his body
constricting with each shallow breath.

Chip's anger faded, replaced with
fear as he watched his father's
distress. "Dad?" he whispered,
his voice shaking.

Plankton's body trembled as his
legs gave out, collapsing into the
embrace Karen had been ready to offer.

"Dad?" Chip's voice was barely
above a whisper, his eyes wide
with fear and confusion. He had
never seen his father so
overwhelmed, so vulnerable.

Karen knelt beside Plankton, her
hands gentle on his trembling
body. "It's okay, love," she
whispered, her voice a salve
on his raw nerves. "Just breathe."

Chip's eyes were glued to his
father with fear. He had never seen him
like this before, his body a
stranger's under his own touch.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked
again, his voice shaking.

Karen took a deep breath, her
hands trembling as she smoothed
back Plankton's antennae. "Chip, your
dad was born with something..."
Her voice trailed off, the words
stuck in her throat like a piece
of unchewed food.

Chip's eyes searched hers, his
confusion a storm cloud
gathering. "What do you mean?"
he asked, his voice small and
scared.

Karen took a deep breath, her
heart aching for both her son
and her husband. "Your dad," she
began, her voice shaking with
the weight of her words, "was born
different, Chip." Plankton's
eye flickered open, filled with a
mixture of fear and hope.

"What do you mean, 'different'?"
Chip asked, his voice small and
scared. He had never heard his
mother talk about his dad this
way before.

Karen took a deep breath,
swallowing the lump in her
throat. "When your dad was born,
Chip," she began, her screen
filled with a sadness that
threatened to spill over, "his brain
was injured during delivery. When
the doctors pulled him out, they
didn't realize how fragile he was
and they..." Her voice trailed off,
the memory too painful to
recount. "They had to get him out
and applied too much force on his
head, which caused some damage.
It gave him a type of condition, where
he's on what's called autism spectrum."

Chip's eyes widened, his grip on
his shirt tightening. "But that's
not his fault, right?" he asked, his
voice a hopeful whisper. He didn't
want to think of his dad as
damaged or broken.

Karen nodded, her screen filled
with love for both her husband and
her son. "No, honey, it's not his
fault," she said, her voice steady.
"It's just how he's. And
it's not something you can see or
touch. It's like having a radio in
your head that's always tuned to the
loudest station, and sometimes
the static gets too much."

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II viii

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY viii
(Autistic author)

Sponge Bob's eyes widen,
his grip on Plankton's wrists
loosening. "What
accident?" he asks, his voice
filled with dread.

Plankton's smile is gone,
replaced by a look of sadness.
"Head," he says, his voice
a barely-there whisper. "Hurt." He
touches his forehead gently,
his antennas drooping.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen with
realization, his grip on Plankton's
wrists loosening entirely. "You
got hurt?" he asks, his voice
filled with concern. "What happened?"

Plankton nods, his antennas
still drooping.

Sponge Bob's confusion
grows, his anger replaced
with worry. "What do you
mean?" he asks, his voice
softening. "What happened to
your head?"

Plankton's antennas twitch, his
smile a distant memory. "Fall," 
he says, his voice a monotone.

Sponge Bob's heart skips a beat.
"You fell?" he asks, his voice
filled with concern. "When? How?"

Plankton nods, his eye
flickering with something
akin to pain. "Recently," he says,
his voice flat. "Head bad."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen in shock,
his mind racing with questions.
"You fell and hurt your head?" he
repeats, his voice filled with
disbelief. "Why didn't you tell
me?"

Plankton's gaze drops to his book,
his hands fluttering over the
pages. "No tell," he whispers, his
voice filled with regret. "Shame."

Sponge Bob's eyes fill with
understanding, his anger
evaporating like mist in the sun.
"Oh, Plankton," he says, his voice
soft. "You didn't have to keep
this to yourself."

Plankton's smile is a
pale imitation of his usual
self, his antennas still. "No good,"
he whispers, his voice barely
audible. "Head hurt. Plankton bad."

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with worry as he tries to
comprehend his friend's cryptic
words. "You're not bad, Plankton,"
he says, his voice gentle. "You've
just had an accident."

Plankton's gaze remains fixed
on the book, his hands
flapping over the pages. "No,"
he says, his voice a sad echo.
"Head bad. Plankton bad." His body
slumps, his usual vibrant energy
dimmed by his distress.

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with sadness as he tries to
comfort his friend. "You're not
bad, Plankton," he says, his voice
soothing. "You're just hurt right?"

Plankton's antennas twitch slightly,
his hand stilling on the book. "Hurt,"
he echoes, his voice a monotone.
"Inside head." He taps his forehead,
his eye searching Sponge Bob's
for understanding. "Grey matter.
Neural pathways."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his
confusion growing. "What do
you mean, Plankton?" he asks, his voice
filled with concern. "What's
going on with your brain?"

Plankton's hand continues to
tap his forehead, his voice
detached. "Neurochemicals," he says,
his voice a robotic recital. "Synaptic
connections. Autism." His smile
is a mere memory, his eye
glazed over with a faraway look.

Sponge Bob's heart squeezes in his
chest, his mind racing. "You're
talking about your brain," he says,
his voice tentative. "What's wrong
with it?"

Plankton's hand stops tapping,
his gaze focusing on Sponge Bob.
"Wiring," he says, his voice a
monotone explanation. "Neuro-
typical patterns disrupted affect
the parts of brain when result
in autism." His words are precise,
his tone devoid of emotion.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen with
comprehension, his spongy heart
sinking. "You're saying you have
autism now?" he asks, his voice
barely above a whisper.

Plankton nods, his eye
still fixed on the book. "Neurotypical
divergence," he confirms, his voice
still devoid of emotion. "Synaptic
variance, myelination discrepancies."
He speaks in a monotone, his words
sounding rehearsed and mechanical.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears,
his heart breaking for his friend.
"What does that mean, Plankton?"
he asks, his voice shaking.
"Does that mean you're not okay?"

Plankton's gaze remains on
the book, his hand tracing the
spine. "Neuro-typical divergence,"
he repeats, his voice a flat
recitation of medical terms.
"Synaptic connections altered.
Atypical neural patterns. Autism."
He speaks as if recounting
a scientific paper, his tone
lacking any personal connection.
"When hit head, damaged the
myelination," he says, his hand
continuing its mechanical movement
against the book. "Myelination is
the insulation around the axons
that speeds up the nerve impulses 
made in a part of brain we call
the cerebral cortex. My cerebral
cortex now restricts, slows
down impulses."

Sponge Bob listens, his
mind racing to keep up with
Plankton's sudden shift in
vocabulary. "But what does that
mean?" he asks, his voice
filled with concern. "How'd the
damage give you autism?"

Plankton's hand stops
its movement along the book.
"Neurodivergence," he says, his
voice a clinical recount. "My brain
now operates outside typical
parameters. Synaptic pruning,
myelination patterns altered.
Atypical neural networks formed."
He speaks as if discussing a
complex scientific experiment,
his words a jumble of medical
terminology that Sponge Bob
barely understands.

"Does that mean you're not okay?"
Sponge Bob asks, his voice
filled with fear.

Plankton's hand stills on the book,
his gaze unfocused. "Functional
diversity," he says, his voice
a hollow echo of the medical
lingo he's been taught. "Neurodivergence
can lead to unique cognitive
strengths, but also challenges."
He taps the book, his antennas
waving slightly. "My brain's wiring
changed," he says, his voice
a monotone. "Synaptic clefts
widened, neurotransmitters less
efficient. Restricted blood flow to
temporal lobes."

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with a mix of confusion and
fear. "Does that mean you can't
be... fixed?" he asks, his voice
small.

Plankton's antennas twitch,
his gaze still unfocused. "Can't fix,"
he echoes, his voice a sad
recitation. "Neuroplasticity, yes.
Rewire, adapt. But cerebral
cortex, permanent. Autism, permanent."

Sponge Bob's eyes are wide,
his mind reeling with the
complexity of Plankton's words.
"But, Plankton," he says, his voice
quivering. "What about the Krabby
Patties? Your plans?"

Plankton's gaze snaps up, his
hands still. "No plans," he says,
his voice a sad echo. "No more steal."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen,
his heart racing. "You don't want
to steal the Krabby Patties anymore?"
he asks, his voice filled with
hope and disbelief.

Plankton's antennas droop, his
hands flapping slightly. "No more
schemes," he whispers, his voice a
monotone. "No more steal." His eye
meet Sponge Bob's, a flicker of
his old mischief briefly shining
through. "But," he adds, his
smile mischievous, "still have
competitive spirit." His hands
begin to flap with excitement.

Sponge Bob's heart soars with
relief, a smile spreading across
his face. "So, you're still
the same Plankton," he says, his
voice filled with hope. "Just...
different. Ok, cool!"

Plankton nods, his smile a
ghostly reflection of his usual
self. "Different," he repeats, his
voice a sad echo. "But still
have friend?" His antennas
wave slightly, his eye searching
Sponge Bob's for reassurance.

Sponge Bob's heart swells with
affection. "Of course, Plankton,"
he says, his voice firm. "We're
still friends. Nothing can
change that." He squeezes
Plankton's shoulder, trying
to convey his support. 

new karen and the autistic journey corpus callosum anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) braincore autismcore headinjuryposting neurodivergentcore neurodisability viii

🇮🇻🇻🇮🇮

new viii sevener xviii iv eighteen 7 8

8ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁☾

new march eight viii month mars march 1 coquette

SHELF IMPROVEMENT viii
(Autistic author)

The next day, Karen got
up out of bed. Plankton's
still asleep. She wondered
how she's to wake him with
his new sensory sensitivities.

Gently, she opened 
the blinds, letting in 
the soft morning light. 
The room was peaceful, 
the silence only broken by 
the steady hum of 
his breathing. She took 
a moment to just watch 
his sleeping form, the 
covers rising and falling 
with each breath.

Karen approached the 
bed, careful not to wake 
him. Plankton's antennae 
twitched slightly as 
she reached out to 
stroke his forehead. 
He mumbled something 
unintelligible in his 
sleep, and she 
smiled sadly.

"Good morning, 
Plankton," she whispered, 
keeping her voice 
soft. His eye fluttered 
open, and he blinked 
at her, his gaze 
slightly unfocused.

"Karen," he mumbled, 
his voice groggy.

"How are you 
feeling?" she asked, 
concern etched on her 
screen.

Plankton blinked a few 
times, his antennae 
slowly raising. "Tired," he 
finally said, his voice 
raspy.

"It's okay," Karen 
soothed, sitting on the 
edge of the bed. "We'll 
take it easy today. I told
Chip about your new
neurodisability.."

Plankton's antennae 
twitched slightly as he 
took in her words. "Chip 
knowing?" he murmured, 
his eye searching hers.

"Yes, sweetie," Karen 
nodded. "We talked about 
how we need to be 
gentler with you now."

Plankton's antennae 
stilled, his gaze 
unreadable. Then, slowly, 
his eye found hers. "Thank... 
you?" he whispered, the 
words a gentle caress.

Karen felt a tear 
roll down her screen. 
"Of course," she said, 
smiling softly. "We're 
in this together." It's
the first time since the
accident that he used
an actual pronoun.

Plankton's antennae 
quivered as he 
absorbed her words. 
"Together," he echoed, 
his voice gaining 
strength. Karen 
wiped her screen, trying 
not to let her emotions 
overwhelm them as Chip
came into their room.

"Morning, Dad," Chip 
said, his voice 
tentative. He had 
spent the night 
thinking about his 
father's condition, 
his young mind racing 
with questions.

Plankton's antennae 
twitched, and he offered 
a small smile. "Chip," he 
mumbled.

Chip cautiously 
approached the bed, 
his eyes wide with 
concern. "You okay, Dad?"

Plankton nodded, 
his antennae still. 
"Chip," he murmured. 
"Chip loves Plankton."

Chip climbed 
up onto the bed, 
his movements slow 
and deliberate. "I love 
you too, Dad," he said, 
his voice trembling as
he crawled closer to 
Plankton.

Plankton's antennae 
flinched as Chip approached, 
his body tensing 
instinctively. Karen had 
explained about personal 
space the night before, 
but she wasn't sure if 
he'd remember.

"Chip," she said 
softly, placing a 
hand on her son's 
shoulder. "Let's 
not get too close 
just yet, okay?"

Chip nodded, his 
screen a picture of 
understanding. He 
sat at the edge of the 
bed, giving Plankton 
enough space. Karen 
could see the effort 
it took for him to 
control his instincts.

Plankton's antennae 
twitched as he took 
in the new dynamics, 
his eye flicking between 
Karen and Chip. "Space," 
he murmured, his voice 
still weak. "I need... 
space."

Karen nodded, 
swallowing hard. "Of 
course, Plankton. We'll 
make sure to give you 
your space." She reached 
for Chip's hand, giving it 
a gentle squeeze. "Remember, 
buddy, let's not 
overwhelm Dad."

Chip nodded, 
his eyes serious. 
He slowly slid off the 
bed, his movements 
careful. But as he 
stood up, his elbow 
accidentally brushed 
against Plankton's 
arm. The reaction was 
instant.

Plankton's antennae 
shot up, his 
body jerking away 
from the touch. "No!" he 
yelped, his eye 
widening in discomfort. 
Karen lurched 
as she saw Plankton's 
expression. She had 
tried to prepare Chip, 
but it was clear that 
their new reality was 
going to be a learning 
experience for them all.

Chip's screen filled 
with tears. "I'm 
sorry, Dad," he whispered.

Karen's seeing her son's 
upset face. "It's okay, 
Chip," she said quickly. 
"It's an accident. Let's 
give Dad some more 
space, okay?"

But Plankton's 
expression had 
shifted. His antennae 
were vibrating rapidly, 
his eye flashing with 
anger. "Too much," he 
snapped, his voice 
harsher than Karen had 
ever heard it. "Chip, too 
much!"

Chip's eyes 
watered, and he took 
a step back, 
his hand hovering. "I'm 
sorry, Dad," he stuttered, 
his voice barely above 
a whisper.

Plankton's antennae 
whipped around, his 
whole body vibrating 
with agitation. "Out!" he 
bellowed, the word 
exploding from his 
tiny body. "Chip, go out!"

Chip's eyes grew 
large with shock. He had 
never heard his dad 
speak to him like that 
before. His shoulders 
slumped, and he 
turned to leave, his 
steps slow and heavy. 
Karen watched 
her son retreat.

"Plankton," she began, 
her voice shaky. "It's 
okay, he didn't mean..."

But Plankton's 
anger was palpable. 
"No!" he shouted, his 
eye flashing. "Chip, no 
more!" His voice was 
loud, a stark contrast 
to the gentle whispers 
of their previous 
interactions.

Chip hovers by the door.
"Dad, I di-"

"OUT!" Plankton's 
shout reverberated through 
the room, cutting him 
off mid-sentence. His 
body was rigid with 
tension, his antennae 
quivering angrily. Karen felt 
a pang of fear and sadness 
seeing her husband like 
this. But Chip wants to
reconcile with his father.

Chip looked back, 
his eyes brimming with 
unshed tears. "Dad, ca--"

"OUT!" Plankton's voice 
was a thunderclap in the 
stillness of the room. 
Chip flinched, his 
small body visibly trembling.

"Dad," 
Chip tried again, his 
voice shaking. "Can't
you li—"

"OUT!" Plankton 
shouted, his antennae 
whipping around like 
tiny storm clouds. 
Karen saw the fear in 
Chip and knew 
she had to intervene.

"Chip, go to your 
room," she said firmly, 
trying to keep the 
emotion out of her 
voice. "Let's give Dad 
some time to calm down."

Chip nodded. 
With one last 
longing glance at 
Plankton, he left 
the room, the door 
clicking softly behind 
him.

new shelf improvement neurodisability viii

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS viii
(By NeuroFabulous)


Karen's gaze searched
both of their faces,
seeing the tentative
connection forming.
"Why don't we let Daddy
rest now?" she suggested
softly, her eyes on Chip. "It's
getting to be bedtime. You
head to bed, Chip." she said
gently.

Chip nodded, his hand
still hovering over Plankton's.
He knew his father needed
his space, especially after
such an ordeal. "Goodnight,
Dad," he whispered, his voice
filled with a mix of
fear and love.

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, his eye
still focused on Chip.
"Goodnight, buddy,"
he murmured, his voice
exhausted. "I-I-I-I… 
lo-ove y-you."

The words hung in the
air, a declaration of
his feelings despite
his condition. Chip felt
his heart swell with
a mix of emotion, his hand
falling to his side.
"I love you too, Dad,"
he whispered back, his voice
trembling slightly.

The next morning, Karen
hears a ding vibrate on
her phone, waking her.

She sits up and looks
over at Plankton, who's
still sleeping. She smiles 
softly at the sight of her
snoring husband, his antennae
twitching slightly with each
breath.

Gently, she slides out of
bed, careful not to disturb
his rest. She grabs her
phone, checking the text.

Her heart skips a beat
at the sight of the
message: "Plankton: Dental
Appointment to discuss his
latest x-ray. We open in 1
hour." It was from Plankton's
dental office.

Karen sighed, setting
her phone on the nightstand.
"Plankton, love," she whispered,
carefully shaking his
shoulder. "Wake up, we have
a dental appointment."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, his eye opening.
He took a moment to
process the information, his
brain slowly coming online.
"Dentist?" he murmured, his voice
still thick with sleep.

Karen nodded, her voice
steady. "Yes, honey. We need
to talk to the dentist about
your latest x-ray."

Plankton's antennae
twitched.

Karen knew that
dental appointments were a
particularly tough challenge
for Plankton due to his
sensory sensitivities.

With a sigh, Plankton
nodded, his antennae drooping.

Karen could feel the tension
in the room, so she took
Plankton's hand, giving it
a gentle squeeze. "I'll call
Sandy" she said, her voice
calm. "She'll look after Chip."

Plankton nodded, his
antennas still twitching
nervously. "Thank you,"
he murmured, his voice
barely audible.

Karen quickly dials
Sandy's phone number.

The phone rings,
a distant melody in
the quiet room.
Plankton's antennae
twitched with every ring,
his nervousness palpable.

"Sandy, it's Karen,"
Karen's voice was a
comforting balm over
the line. "Could you
possibly watch Chip today?
We've got a dental appointment
for Plankton, and it's...
sudden, I know."

Sandy's voice came through
the speaker, warm and
understanding. "Of course, Karen.
Right now? I'll be heading on over!"

Karen breathed a sigh of
relief. "Thank you so much,
Sandy," she whispered, then
hanging up. She went to
Chip's room.

The light from the hallway
spilled into his room, casting
long shadows across the
floor. Chip stirred in his bed,
his eyes blinking open sleepily.
"Huh?" he mumbled.

Karen's smile was gentle
as she leaned over him.
"Hey, buddy," she whispered.
"Sandy's here to watch you
while I take Daddy to a
dentist appointment."

Chip's eyes widened,
his mind still foggy with sleep.
"Dentist?" he repeated, sitting up.

"Don't worry, Chip," Karen
assured him, her voice soft.
"You can stay here with
Sandy. She'll take good care
of you."

The sound of the doorbell
rang through the house, a
sharp, piercing noise that
made Plankton's antennae
twitch. Karen's eyes darted to
his face, but his expression
remained stoic. She knew
his hearing was sensitive,
but she didn't have time to
fuss over it now.

"It's just Sandy," she assured
Plankton with a smile, patting
his hand before heading
to the door. "It'll be okay,
honey."

The door opened, and
Sandy's cheerful face 
appeared. "Howdy,
Karen!" she chirped, her eyes
scanning the room.

"Hi, Sandy! I don't know how
long we'll be gone but I can
keep you updated. It's to
review an x-ray from Plankton's
last x-ray they said they'd keep
an eye on, and they notified us
to come in today."

Sandy nodded, her smile
warm and reassuring.
"Don't worry, I've got this.
I'll keep Chip busy and
entertained," she promised.
"But he can also sleep in.."

Karen's eyes searched
Plankton's, his antennae
twitching slightly.
"It's okay, love," she murmured,
squeezing his hand. "We'll be
going now."

Plankton nodded, his antennae
drooping. Karen knew he was scared,
but she also knew he'd get through it.
"Come on," she whispered, her voice
soothing. "Let's go to the car."

new chip on the shoulders shockfic viii

CHIP IN MY BOX viii
(Autistic author)


The room is quiet as they wait for
Plankton to stir. Chip's mind
is racing.

Suddenly, Plankton's body
twitches, a small movement
under the velvet shroud.
Karen's hand flies to her mouth,
her eyes wide with anticipation.
Her heart is a wild animal in
her chest, thumping against
her ribs as she watches her
husband slowly come back to
them.

Under the curtain, Plankton's
eye opens slightly, the pupil
dilated with confusion. His
limbs move sluggishly, his mind
trying to make sense of the
world that's rushing back in.

Karen's hand reaches out to
his, her eyes brimming with
relief and fear. "It's okay,"
she whispers, her voice a gentle
breeze in the quiet room. "You're safe."

"Wh... wha... whale...?" Plankton's voice
slurs, his eye flickering behind
the velvet curtain. 
Karen's grip on her son's hand
tightens as she watches her
husband struggle to find his
footing in the murky waters
of consciousness.

"It's okay," she whispers, her
voice a lifeline in the storm
of his confusion. "You're home,
you're safe."

Plankton's eye blinks, his
brain trying to piece together
the shards of reality. "Whale?"
He mumbles again, his voice
slurred with sleep.

Karen's heart squeezes, her
hand still in Plankton's, her voice
even softer now. "No, honey,
it's not a whale," she says,
forcing a gentle laugh. "It's
me, Karen. You're at home."
Her words are a soft
caress, a beacon in the fog
of his sensory overload.

Chip watches, his eyes
wide with fear and hope.
He wants to call out, to tell
his dad everything's okay,
but he remembers Dr. Kelp's
instructions. He stays quiet,
his hand tightening around the
new fidgets, his knuckles
white with tension.

Plankton's mumbling becomes
more pronounced, his eye
darting around under the velvet
cover, as if searching for
something he can't quite see. 
"Bubble...box," he murmurs,
his voice a distant echo.

Karen's heart races, her mind
racing to keep up with his
scattered thoughts. She knows
his brain is trying to make
sense of the world, to find
the familiar in the chaos. "A box is here,"
she whispers, her voice soothing.
"It's new, and right beside you."

Her words seem to resonate
somewhere in the fog of
Plankton's mind. His hand
twitches, reaching out. Chip's
breath hitches as he sees
his father's hand hover over
the new box of sensory
items.

"Bubblebox," Plankton murmurs,
his voice a soft breeze through
the room. The words are
meaningless, but the tone
conveys a desperate search.
Karen's eyes fill with tears as
she nods. "It's here," she whispers,
guiding his hand to the box.

His fingers graze the velvet
curtain, his movements clumsy
and unsure. Chip watches, his
heart in his throat, as his
father's hand trembles over the
box's edge. "Bubba," Plankton
says, his voice a whisper
of confusion.

Karen's eyes are glued to
his face, her heart breaking
at his distress. She tries
to think of something to
say, to bring him back to
them fully. But she knows
better than to push too hard.

Plankton's eye blinks rapidly,
his hand fumbling with the
box's contents. "Fishy," he
mumbles, his voice a
disjointed symphony of
half-thoughts. "Fishy, fishy."
Karen's heart squeezes.

He's talking to his mind,
she knows, to the jumble of
thoughts that have overtaken
his reality. The words are
nonsense, a random assortment
of sounds.

"Fishy?" He murmurs again,
his hand patting the floor.
"Fishy, bubblebox." His voice
trails off, lost in the fog
of his own thoughts.

Karen's heart is racing,
her mind trying to decode
his ramblings. She knows
his mind is searching, trying
to find the safety net of
his sensory world. "Yes, honey,"
she whispers, her voice a
soothing lullaby. "You're okay."

Plankton's eye rolls
back into his head, his
body going slack again.
The silence in the room is
deafening, a stark contrast
to the tumult inside her.
Karen's hand is a tremor
against his, willing him
back to reality. Chip watches,
his own thoughts racing, as
his mother's eyes dart to
Dr. Kelp for guidance.

The doctor's tentacles
move with a quiet
assurance, placing more
items around Plankton. "It's
normal," he whispers, his
voice a lifeline in the
storm of their fear. "His
mind is trying to find
his bearings."

"Where's," he mumbles, his
voice a distant whisper.
"So... many... Karen..."
His antennae twitch erratically,
his hand flailing in the
air as if trying to catch
invisible orbs. Karen's
heart is in her throat, her
eyes brimming with tears
as she watches his struggle.

"I'm here," she says, her
voice a soft caress, reaching
for his hand. "You're safe."
Her eyes plead with Dr. Kelp,
desperation etched in her
features. The doctor nods
reassuringly, his tentacles
moving with a gentle rhythm.
"We're home."

Plankton's eye moves
beneath the velvet, searching
for familiarity. "Home?"
He whispers, his voice
scratchy from disuse. "Where
am I?" The fear in his tone
makes Karen's heart ache.

"You're home, Plankton,"
she whispers back, her voice
soothing. "You're safe."
Her words are a gentle
reminder, a beacon in the
storm of his senses.

new chip in my box chip plankton ii viii

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY viii
(By NeuroFabulous)

Chip's heart ached, his
guilt a physical presence in his
chest. He knew he had hurt his
father, and he desperately wanted
to take it back. "I know I don't
understand, Dad," he said, his voice
quivering. "But I want to learn.
I want to be there for you. You're
special..."

Plankton's antennas perked up slightly
at the word 'special'. It was a term
he had heard before, but it didn't
always come with the warmth and
sincerity that filled Chip's voice.

"You don't know 
what that means,"
he said, his voice 
low and defensive.

Chip felt his heart sink
even further, his stomach
twisting into knots. "Huh?"

Plankton's voice grew louder,
his antennas shooting up.
"You think because I'm 'special',
you can just treat me like a toddler?"
He threw the pillow across
the room, his anger palpable.
"I'm not some kind of science
project, Chip!"

The room grew tense as Chip
swallowed his words, his eyes wide.
He had never seen his dad so upset.
"Dad," he began, his voice trembling.
"I didn't mean it like that.
I just want to—"

"Don't," Plankton snapped,
his antennas pointing sharply at
the ceiling. "You think you can fix me
with your little experiments?"
His words were like a slap in the face,
but Chip knew better than to let
his own anger flare up.

He took a deep breath, trying
to calm the storm inside him.
"I just want to help," he said, his
voice barely above a whisper.
"I want to be ther-"

"I don't need your help!"
Plankton's outburst echoed
through the room, his antennas
quivering with emotion. "I don't need
anyone to 'fix' me, especially not
you!" His voice was raw, each
word a dagger to Chip's soul.

Chip took a step back, his
eyes wide with hurt and confusion.
"But Dad, I just wa-"

"Don't," Plankton said, his voice
sharp and final. "Just don't."

Chip felt his throat tighten, his
words stuck in his mouth.
He had never seen his father like
this, so raw and exposed. The silence
was suffocating, each second that
passed feeling like an eternity.

Plankton's chest heaved with the
effort of containing his emotions.
His antennas were a blur of movement,
indicating his internal turmoil.
Karen watched from the doorway,
her heart breaking for both her husband
and her son, feeling torn between
comforting them and giving them
space.

"I know," Chip
said, his voice 
small. "But I'm 
tr-"

Plankton's antennas shot
up, cutting him off. "You think
you know?" His voice was laced
with bitterness. "You have no
idea what it's like to be me.."

Chip felt his heart sink further,
his mind racing. "I'm sorry,"
he offered, his voice small.
"But I do know that you're more
than just your autism. You're
my dad, and I love you."

Plankton's antennas remained
stiff, his eye unblinking.
"Love," he spat out the word
like it was a foreign object.
"You don't know what that
word means either, do you?"

Karen stepped forward,
her voice a soothing balm.
"Plankton, sweetheart, let's not
do this," she pleaded. "Chip's
just trying to—"

"I know what he's
trying to do!" Plankton
shouted, his antennas jerking
erratically. "He's trying to make
me feel less than, like I'm so—"

"Dad, no," Chip said, his voice
shaking. "That's not what I'm
doing. I just want us to be
closer, like you and Mom.."

Plankton's antennas quivered,
his body tensing. "Don't bring her
into this," he warned. "You don't
understand her either." His words
were like a slap, but Chip knew
his father wasn't in control of his
emotions.

"I do, Dad," Chip
managed to say, 
his voice filled with
determination. "I 
see how much
you both love each 
other, and I just
want to be a part of th-"

"Don't you dare!" Plankton's
voice was a roar, his antennas
thrashing in agitation. "You
don't get to use your mother
as an excuse for your ignorance!"

The room vibrated with tension,
each word a blow to Chip's heart.
He felt tears prickling his eyes
but blinked them back, trying to
maintain some semblance of calm.
"I'm not using her, Dad," he
said, his voice shaking. "I just
want to know how to be close to you
the way Mom..."

Plankton's antennas shot
up in a gesture of disbelief.
"The way your mother is with me?"
his voice was thick with anger.
"You think you can just mimic that?"
He stood up, his whole body
shaking with emotion.

Chip felt his heart drop, his
words coming out in a rush. "No,
Dad," he said, his voice trembling.
"I just want to connect with you."
He took a step towards his
father, his hand outstretched,
but Plankton took a step back,
his antennas bristling.

"I don't like your connecting,"
Plankton said, his voice cold.
"I need you to leave me alone."
His antennas waved erratically,
a clear sign of his distress.

Chip took another tentative step
forward, reaching out again..

Plankton flinched, his antennas
waving wildly. "I said no!" he
shouted, his voice cracking. "I can't
do this right now!" His eye darted around
the room, seeking an escape from the
overwhelming emotions.

Chip's eyes filled with tears, but
he knew pushing would only make
things worse. He took a step back,
his arms falling to his sides. "Ok,"
he whispered, his voice tight with
unshed emotion.

new a plankton family story NeuroFabulous viii

PLUSH ONE viii
(By NeuroFabulous)

Karen's mind races 
with questions,
but she knows 
better than to 
ask now.

She watches
Plankton closely,
his body slowly
unwinding. His
eye opens slightly,
his gaze flicking to
his plushie.

"Plankton," she says,
keeping her voice
steady, "Would you
like to sit with me?"

He considers her offer,
his antennae twitching
nervously. Then, with
a shaky nod, he crawls
across the floor, his
body still tense, and sits
by her side, the plushie
still clutched in one hand.

Karen swells with
relief, the air in the room
finally feeling a bit less
suffocating. She keeps her
movements slow and
deliberate, not wanting to
startle him.

Plankton sits next to her,
his antennae still twitching.

The man she loves is
trying, and it's all she can ask.

Plankton sits next to her,
his antennae twitching, a
constant reminder of the
world he now navigates. She
reaches out tentatively, her
hand hovering near his.

"Would you like me to hold your
hand?" she asks, her voice
barely above a whisper. He looks
at her hand, then at her, his
eye swiveling in consideration.

For a moment, Karen thinks
he might reject her offer, but
slowly, his hand reaches
out and wraps around hers.
It's a tentative gesture.

His grip is firm, but not too tight,
his antennae quivering as he tries
to process the sudden
contact. She holds her breath,
afraid to disturb the fragile peace
they've found.

Karen's mind races, trying to
recall everything she's read
about autism, about how
touch can be both a source of
comfort and of pain. She
remembers the importance of
consent, of letting the person with
autism lead the way.

So she sits, her hand in his,
and waits. The room is still,
the only sound the distant
hum of the city outside their
window. Plankton's breaths are
steady now, his grip on the
plushie loosening. His antennae
are still, no longer searching
the air for threats.

Karen's eyes are locked
on their intertwined hands,
the warmth of his palm a
comfort she hadn't realized
she'd missed. "You're doing
so well," she whispers, her voice
as gentle as his only response is
a twitch of his antennae. His eye
flicks to hers, a silent question.

"It's okay," she says, her smile
reassuring. "We're just sitting
together."

Plankton nods slightly, his eye
still focused on their joined hands.
He then repeats her words, his voice
a mirror of her own. "Okay, sitting
together."

The phrase echoes. It's called
echolalic palilalia, a common trait
in those with autism, where words
are repeated.

Karen nods with love. "Yes,"
she says. "Sitting together."

Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly, a hint of
a smile playing.

It's a small victory,
but a victory nonetheless.

new plush one comfortfic viii

KAREN AND THE TEETHIES viii

With the nurse's help, they
manage to get Plankton into the car.
Karen buckles him in, his eye
opening briefly before dropping shut
again. His snores fill the car as
she starts the engine. She
glances at him, his mouth hanging
open slightly, and laughs. "You
can sleep when we get home,
Plankton," she whispers, her voice
filled with affectionate amusement.

But Plankton's snores are a
steady beat, his body swaying
slightly with the car's movement.
His head tips back.
Karen smiles, reaching over to
adjust his seatbelt, making sure
it's snug but not too tight. She
kisses his forehead, her
laughter a soft sound in the quiet
car. "You're such a goofball,"
she murmurs.

But Plankton's eye won't open,
his snores gentle. His head
rolls against the headrest,
his mouth hanging slightly open.

Karen shakes him gently.
"Wake up, babe," she whispers,
her voice a soft laugh. "We're
going home." She says as she
drove out of the parking lot.

But Plankton's only response
is a snort, his snores
continuing. His head
lolls to the side, his mouth
open, a thin line of drool
connecting his lip to his chin.

Karen's smile widens, a
mixture of affection and
exasperation. She reaches
over with a napkin to wipe
his mouth gently. "You're
such a sleepyhead," she whispers,
his snores the only reply.

The car's engine purrs
as they pull onto the street.
Plankton's snores crescendo
into a gentle snort, his
body jolting slightly in the
seat. But sleep wins again,
his head drooping to the side.

Karen's eyes dart between
the road and Plankton's sleeping
form. His snores are a soft
comforting background noise.

Plankton's head tips to the side,
his mouth drooping open. A thin
line of drool forms, and Karen
quickly darts a napkin to catch
it. She giggles softly to herself,
his peacefulness a stark contrast
to his usual frenetic energy.

"You're going to wake up in a
puddle of drool," she whispers, her
voice filled with amusement.
But Plankton's snores are a sweet
lullaby, unchanged by her words.
His body sags into the car seat,
his chest rising and falling with
each deep, sleepy breath.

As they hit a bump in the road,
his head jolts up, his eye
half-open. "Wha... wha..." he
mumbles, his voice a thick slur.
But the moment passes, and his
head lolls back again, snores
picking up where they left off.

Karen's laughter fills the car,
her hand reaching over to
stroke his antennae gently. "You're
such a mess," she whispers, her
voice a mix of love and amusement.
"But you're my mess."

Plankton's snores are the
only reply, his head
bobbing with the car's movement.
Karen watches him sleep,
his mouth slightly open,
drool glistening in the
soft light from the dashboard.

Each time she looks over,
his snores crescendo, and
she can't help but smile.
"Sleepy Plankton," she whispers,
her voice filled with love.

They arrive home, the
car's engine silenced in the
quiet neighborhood. Plankton's
snores continue, unbothered
by the change in scenery.

Karen shifts into park,
turning to look at him. His
snores are a soft whisper in
the quiet car, his body still.
His head tips to the side,
his mouth open slightly, drool
pooling on his chin.

"Home," she whispers, her voice
a gentle wake-up call. But his
snores are unbroken, his body
remaining slack.

With a sigh, she opens
his door, her arm slipping
under his to support his weight.
"Wake up, Plankton," she says,
her voice a soft nudge. "We're home."

But Plankton's snores are
the only answer, his body
unmoving. Karen shakes her
head, a smile tugging at her
lips. She carefully lifts him,
his legs swinging like a ragdoll's.

"Wake up," she whispers, her
laughter a soft caress. "We're
inside." Plankton's snores
pause briefly, his eye
flickering open before shutting
again. "Home," he mumbles, his
voice barely audible.

Karen chuckles, her
strength carrying his
weight. "You can sleep all
you want in bed," she promises,
his snores the only answer.

They stumble into the
hallway, Plankton's snores
bouncing off the walls. She
guides him to the couch,
his legs giving out with a
thump. "Come on," she whispers,
laughing. "Bedtime."

But Plankton's eye is
closed, his snores a soft
whisper. He slumps against
the couch cushions, his body
unyielding. Karen sighs, her
smile filled with affection.
"You're so stubborn," she
says, her voice a gentle scold.

With a grunt, she shifts
his weight, his head rolling
to the side. "Wake up," she whispers,
a hint of laughter in her voice.
But Plankton's snores are a sweet
testament to his deep slumber.

"We're almost there,"
she whispers, her voice a gentle
reminder. But his body is a
deadweight, his snores echoing
through the quiet house.

With a soft chuckle, Karen
shifts him into a standing
position, his snores hitching for a
moment before resuming their
steady rhythm.

"Walk, Plankton," she whispers,
guiding his sleepy steps. But his
body sags again, his head rolling
back with a snore. "Come on,
sweetie," she says, her voice a blend
of amusement and persistence.

Karen's heart swells with love
for his adorable state. She
manages to carry him to their
bedroom, his snores a gentle
reminder of his deep sleep. She
eases him onto his bed, his body
falling into the soft embrace of the
mattress with a final, heavy snort.

Karen props his head with
pillows, his mouth still open.
She wipes the drool from his
chin with the napkin, her touch
gentle and loving.

"You're home," she whispers,
his snores the only response.
Her eyes scan his face,
his features relaxed in sleep.
With a soft sigh, she tucks
the blanket around him.
"Rest well, my love," she says,
kissing his forehead.

Plankton wakes up the next
morning, finding himself in
his own bed after his 
appointment for wisdom 
teeth removal. The anesthesia
worn off overnight.

He looks around, his head
feeling light and his mouth
feeling... strange. He touches
his cheeks gingerly with his
fingers, feeling the absence
of his teeth. "What happened?"
he mumbles, his voice groggy with
sleep. Last thing he remembers is
the dentist's chair and Karen's
soothing whispers.

Karen walks in, her smile
bright. "You're awake," she
says, her voice a soft
caress. "How do you feel?"

Plankton's hand moves to his
swollen mouth, his eyes
wide with surprise. "What...
how'd I get here?" he
slurs, his speech still thick with
sleep.

Karen laughs, her eyes
sparkling with mirth. "You
fell asleep at the dentist's
and I brought you home,"
she explains, her voice filled
with humor. "Do you remember
the surgery?"

Plankton's eye widen,
his brain foggy with
recollection. "I... I think so,"
he mumbles, his hand
still cupping his cheek.
"I recall the chair...
and your voice..."

Karen nods, her smile
warm. "You were pretty
out of it," she says, her voice
a gentle tease. "But you're
all healed now."

new wisdomteethcore wisdomtoothcore viii

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON viii

(Autistic author)


The room grew quiet as they
all digested the information.
Sponge Bob's gaze never left
Plankton's, his expression
filled with a fierce loyalty.
He knew his friend was
different, but that didn't
change the love he had for
the tiny creature.

Sensing the tension, Sponge
Bob took a deep breath and
smiled his wide, welcoming smile.
"You know what, Plankton?" he
said, his voice a gentle rumble.
"You're still my best buddy, no
matter what."

Plankton's antennae perked
up, his eye focusing on
Sponge Bob's earnest expression.
The sponge's words were a
comforting lullaby, a gentle
reminder of their unbreakable bond.
He felt the warmth of their
friendship wash over him, a
comforting blanket against the
coldness of Hanna's accusations.

Sponge Bob's hand found its
way to his shoulder, the
touch a familiar comfort that
his overstimulated senses craved.
Plankton leaned into the warmth,
his body responding to the
soothing pressure. "Best buddies,"
he echoed, his voice a soft
affirmation.

The room grew quiet as
Sponge Bob's hand remained
steady on his shoulder, his
presence a calming force in
the storm of his emotions. Plankton
closed his eye, his body
relaxing into the gentle embrace.

"We're gonna get through this,"
Sponge Bob said, his voice a
soothing lullaby. "We'll figure
it out, buddy. I'm here for
you."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, the warmth of his friend's
words seeping into his soul.
Sponge Bob had always had
a way of making him feel safe,
but now, with this new
knowledge, their friendship
felt even more vital.

"Thank you," Plankton murmured,
his voice a soft echo of
gratitude. Sponge Bob's
thumb rubbed circles on his
back.

The two friends sat in
silence, the warmth of their
companionship a stark contrast
to the chill of Hanna's words.
Plankton felt the tension in
his body slowly melt away,
his breaths evening out. The
steady beat of Sponge Bob's
heart was a comforting lullaby
that helped him find peace.

Sponge Bob's thumb continued
its circular dance on his back, a
wordless communication of
his love and support. Plankton
sighed, his body growing
heavier with each comforting
pressure point. "Thank you," he
murmured, his voice a gentle
whisper.

Sponge Bob's eyes searched his
face, a flicker of understanding
dawning. "It's okay, Plankton,"
he said. "We'll get through this
together." His hand didn't
move, his touch a silent
promise of his unwavering
support.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, the comfort of his
friend's presence a warmth
against the coldness of his fear.
He knew Sponge Bob would
always be there for him, even
if he didn't fully understand
his condition. The sponge's
love was a constant, a beacon
of light in his otherwise
confusing world.

Sponge Bob's eyes never left
his friend's, his smile a gentle
reminder of the joy they
shared. "You know, Plankton,"
he began, his voice a soft
caress. "You're still
the same little guy I've
always known."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
body leaning into the warmth of
Sponge Bob's embrace.

The steady beat of the sponge's
heart was a comforting metronome
that helped him find his rhythm
again. He felt the tension in
his body slowly melt away, each
breath growing deeper and more
even. The room, once a battlefield
of accusations and misunderstandings,
was now a haven of quiet comfort.

The rustling of pages grew
softer, the candle's glow dimming
as the minutes ticked by. Karen
and Hanna watched from afar,
heavy with regret
and hope. They saw the change in
Plankton, the way he leaned into
Sponge Bob's touch, the way his
body slowly relaxed.

Sponge Bob, ever the
comforting presence, began to
hum a gentle tune, a melody
that Plankton had heard a
thousand times. The familiar
notes were a lullaby that
soothed his frazzled nerves,
his antennae dropping to rest
against the sponge's shoulder.
The tune was a bridge to
his past, a time before the
accident, before the world had
shifted on its axis.

Plankton's breaths grew deeper,
his body swaying slightly with
the rhythm. His eye closed.
Sponge Bob's humming grew softer,
his hand never leaving Plankton's
back. The warmth of his
companion's embrace was a
soothing balm.

The room, once a prison
of accusations, was now a sanctuary
of friendship. The candle's
flame danced, casting shadows
that played across the walls,
their flickering a gentle reminder
of the warmth in their hearts.

Sponge Bob's hum grew softer,
his melody a gentle whisper that
lulled Plankton into a peaceful
reverie. His body molded
into the sponge's embrace,
his antennae drooping with
the weight of his eyelid. The
world outside faded away,
replaced by the safety of Sponge
Bob's arms.

Karen watched from the
distance, shimmering with
unshed tears. She knew the
importance of this moment, the
power of a friend who
understood without words. Her heart
swelled with gratitude for
Sponge Bob's unwavering support.

Hanna, too, felt the
weight of her own words, the
realization of her ignorance
heavy on her shoulders. She
longed to reach out, to be
part of this healing embrace, but
felt the boundary that she had
unwittingly created. Her screen
followed the tender scene, her
thoughts racing with a
desire to apologize, to explain.

But she knew that now was not
the time for words. Instead, she
sat quietly, watching the
dance of friendship unfold. The
steady beat of Sponge Bob's
heart, the gentle rustle of his
body against Plankton's, the
soothing hum that filled the
air—it was a symphony of care.

Hanna's gaze drifted to the
candle, its flame a flickering
reminder of the warmth that
was slowly seeping into the
room. She watched as Plankton's
body grew heavier, his breaths
deepening. The anger and fear
that had once dominated the
space were now replaced with a
comforting quietude.

Karen's hand found Hanna's,
squeezing gently. "He's ok,"
she whispered. "We're going
to be ok." Her voice was a
calm sea, offering a gentle
buoyancy to the storm of
emotions that had ravaged
them all.

Hanna's screen searched hers,
uncertainty warring with hope.
"I'm sorry," she murmured,
her voice a soft apology. "I
just didn't know."

Karen nodded, her gaze
compassionate. "It's a journey,"
she said. "We're all just
trying to understand."

The humming grew softer, until
it was only a faint echo in
the room. Plankton's antennae
twitched with the last
remnants of his anxiety,
before they too stilled. His
body grew heavy, his breaths
deep and even. The gentle
sway of Sponge Bob's embrace
was a lullaby that rocked him
into a peaceful slumber.

Sponge Bob felt the
change in Plankton's tension,
his friend's body becoming
a soft weight against his. He
smiled, his heart swelling
with love and relief. Carefully,
he adjusted his hold, cradling
the tiny creature against his
chest. His thumb continued its
comforting strokes, his eyes
never leaving the closed eye.

Karen stepped forward, her
movements graceful and silent.
Her hand rested on Sponge
Bob's arm, her screen a gentle
thank you. Hanna quietly left.

The room was now bathed in
the soft glow of the candle,
its flicker the only sound.
Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly in his sleep, his
breaths deep and even. Sponge
Bob held him tight, his
heartbeat a gentle rhythm that
soothed the tiny creature's
slumber.

Karen watched the two,
aching with love and
gratitude. She knew that
Sponge Bob's simple act of
comfort was a powerful
statement of friendship and
support. It was moments like
this that reminded her of the
strength in their bond.

The candle's flame danced
gently, casting shadows that
played across Plankton's sleeping
face. His antennae, once a
whirlwind of anxiety, were now
still, resting against Sponge
Bob's chest. His breaths were
even and deep, a testament
to the peace he had found
in his friend's embrace.

Sponge Bob looked down at
his sleeping companion, his
face a picture of quiet contentment.
He knew that Plankton was
safe here, that his slumber was
a reprieve from the storm of
emotions that had ravaged
his day. The room was a
sanctuary of calm, the candle's
warmth a gentle guardian.

The sponge's heart swelled with
love as he watched his friend's
tiny chest rise and fall, each
breath a whispered promise
of support. He knew that
Plankton's world was now
different, that the ASD had
brought with it challenges that
neither of them could have
foreseen. But in this moment,
their bond was stronger than
ever, a beacon of understanding
in a sea of uncertainty.

Karen's eyes searched
Sponge Bob's, her own heart
heavy with the weight of what
Plankton had endured. "Thank
you," she murmured, her voice a
soft wave of appreciation.
"For being there for him."

Sponge Bob's gaze never left
Plankton's sleeping form, his
thumb still tracing comforting
patterns. "Always," he said, his
voice a gentle promise. "No
matter what."

new neurobehavioral plankton plankbobs viii

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM viii

(Autistic author)


Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly. "Game," he 
whispers, his voice 
shaking. "Just game."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow, 
his claws tense. "If it's 
just a game, then why 
are you acting so 
strange?" he snaps at
Plankton.

Plankton's antennas 
wobble with effort 
to maintain control.

"Because," he starts, his 
voice shaky, "Plankton... 
different."

Mr. Krabs stares at 
Sponge Bob, his 
expression unyielding. 
"Different?" he echoes, 
his eyes darting to 
Plankton, then back to 
his employee.

Sponge Bob nods, his 
voice trembling. "Yes, 
Mr. Krabs, Plankton's 
been through something 
that's changed him."
He looks at Karen for 
support, but she stays 
silent, her eyes 
reflecting a mix of 
concern and hope.

Mr. Krabs crosses his 
arms, his eyebrow 
quivering with skepticism. 
"What do you mean, 
changed him?" he asks.
"Is he trying to steal 
the Krabby Patty formular 
again?"

Sponge Bob's 
frustration rises. "No, 
Mr. Krabs," he says, 
his voice steady. "It's 
not like that. Plankton 
has... a condition."

Mr. Krabs' 
skepticism turns to 
curiosity. "Condition?" 
he repeats, his voice 
softer.

Sponge Bob nods, 
swallowing the lump 
in his throat. "He's 
been diagnosed with acquired
autism," he explains, 
his voice barely above 
a whisper.

Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, 
his mouth dropping open
as the words sink in.
He turns to Karen, his gaze 
demanding confirmation.
"Is it true?" he asks, 
his voice gruff.

Karen nods solemnly, 
her circuits flickering 
with a mix of 
sadness and hope.
"Yes," she says gently. 
"Plankton has 
an acquired 
form of autism."

Mr. Krabs' expression 
shifts from skepticism 
to shock. He looks 
at Plankton. 
"Autism?" he repeats, 
his voice barely above 
a murmur. "But... but 
how?"

Karen's LED lights 
dim slightly. "I don't
think he'd like to answer
that question" she says, 
her voice clinical. "It's 
caused a significant 
shift in his neural 
functioning."

Mr. Krabs' gaze 
remains on Plankton, 
his expression one 
of dawning 
understanding. "Was 
me fry pan..." he starts, 
his voice trailing off.

Plankton's antennas 
drop, and he 
nods slowly. "Yes," he 
whispers. "Krabs pan."

Mr. Krabs' face 
crumbles, his 
claws clenching into 
fists. "I didn't mean to," 
he stammers, his voice 
choking with regret. "I 
was just trying to keep 
me formular safe."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch, his single eye 
welling with unshed 
tears.

Mr. Krabs' guilt is 
palpable, his eyes 
swimming with 
remorse. "I'm sorry, 
Plankton," he says 
hoarsely. "I had no idea."

But Plankton's gaze 
doesn't soften. His 
stare is unyielding, 
his voice cold.

"Sorry not enough," he says, 
his words clipped. 
"Hurt, Mr. Krabs 
hurt Plankton bad."

Mr. Krabs' heart squeezes 
at the accusation in 
Plankton's voice. He's 
never heard him speak 
like this before, with such 
raw emotion.

"I know," he says 
remorsefully, his 
voice cracking. "I know 
I hurt you, Plankton. I'm 
so, so sorry."

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
doesn't waver. "No," 
he insists, his voice 
still cold. "Not just sorry.
Mr. Krabs must understand."

Mr. Krabs nods, 
his eyes brimming with 
tears. "I do," he 
chokes out. "I understand.
What can I do to help?"

Plankton's antennas 
still don't move, his 
expression unreadable.

Mr. Krabs' reaches for
Plankton's shoulder.
That's the last straw.
With a burst of 
energy, Plankton 
pushes away the 
clawed hand. "No 
touch," he snaps, his 
voice cold. "Mr. Krabs 
not understand." His 
words are like shards of 
ice, each one cutting 
deeper into Mr. Krabs' 
guilt.

Mr. Krabs' face falls, 
his hand retreating 
quickly. "But I do," 
he insists, his voice 
desperate. "I swear, 
Plankton, I do."

But Plankton's 
expression remains 
stony, his antennas 
rigid. "No," he says 
simply. "Krabs don't." His 
voice is a knife, slicing 
through the tension 
in the room.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
water, his heart 
heavy with regret. "I 
swear, Plankton," he 
pleads. "I'll do anything 
to make it right."

But Plankton's 
gaze remains 
steady, his 
unforgiving gaze 
bearing into Mr. 
Krabs' soul. "Make right?"
he echoes. "Cannot make 
right. Cannot change. Krabs
fault."

Mr. Krabs' shoulders 
sag with the weight 
of Plankton's words. 
He knows his rival is 
right; he can't reverse 
what's been done, 
no matter how much he 
wishes it. "But I want 
to help," he says 
desperately. "Please, tell 
me how..."

But Plankton's 
expression is a 
mask of coldness, 
his antennas unyielding. 
"Help?" he echoes, his 
voice dripping with 
skepticism. "Krabs 
can't help." His gaze 
slides to the 
discarded chessboard, 
his eyes lingering 
on the scattered 
pieces. "Too late."

Mr. Krabs' shoulders 
sag with the weight 
of Plankton's rejection. 
"Please," he says 
desperately. "I didn't 
know. I just want to 
make it better."

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
doesn't falter. His 
stare is a mirror 
reflecting Mr. Krabs' 
own guilt and regret. 
"Better?" he repeats, 
his voice devoid of 
emotion. "Cannot be.
No cure. Just stop."

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
well with tears, his 
heart aching with 
the pain of his 
mistake. "But I want 
to fix it," he says 
pleadingly. "I want to 
make it right."

But Plankton's gaze 
doesn't soften. "No fix," 
he says flatly. "Cannot 
change what is." His 
single eye seems to 
bore into Mr. Krabs, 
his voice unyielding.
"Krabs hurt Plankton. 
Krabs must live with."

Mr. Krabs hangs 
his head, his 
shoulders heaving with 
sobs. "I'm sorry," he 
whispers, his voice 
breaking. "I'll do anything."

But Plankton 
simply shakes his 
head, his antennas 
still. "Cannot change," 
he murmurs. "Must live 
with." His eye are 
empty, devoid of the 
malicious spark that 
once fueled his quest 
for the Krabby Patty 
formula. Normally
Plankton would love to 
cause such a reaction
out of Mr. Krabs.

Mr. Krabs' 
sobs grow louder, his 
guilt consuming him. 
"But I didn't mean 
to," he wails. "It was 
just a mistake."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch slightly. "Mistake," 
he echoes, his voice 
still cold. "Mistake 
not enough." His eye 
are unrelenting, his 
stare piercing through 
Mr. Krabs' soul. "You hurt 
me," he says, his 
words a quiet thunder 
clap in the tense silence. 
"Mistake changed me."

Mr. Krabs looks up, 
his eyes red with tears. 
"I know," he says, his 
voice thick with regret. "I 
know I hurt you, Plankton. 
Yet I didn't know how bad..."

But Plankton's 
expression is one of 
resentment, his antennas 
twitching with anger. 
"Hurt," he says, his 
voice cold. "Krabs hurt 
Plankton. Krabs must 
understand." His gaze 
doesn't waver from Mr. 
Krabs, his accusation 
hangs in the air like a 
heavy fog.

Mr. Krabs' sobs 
quiet, his eyes 
swimming with regret. 
He opens his mouth to 
speak, but the words 
catch in his throat. 
"I do underst--"

"No," Plankton 
interrupts, his 
voice like a whip. "You 
don't." His antennas 
wave with agitation, 
his eye flashing with 
a cold fire. "You don't 
understand pain." His 
words are sharp, 
cutting through Mr. 
Krabs' protests.

Mr. Krabs' 
expression falls, his 
claws trembling. "I 
see that now," he 
whispers, his voice 
racked with emotion. "But 
what can I do?" His 
desperation is clear, 
his eyes searching Plankton's 
face for any sign of 
forgiveness. "I'd even give
you a krabby patty.."

But Plankton's 
expression doesn't 
change. His antennas 
remain rigid, his eye 
still cold. "Krabby 
Patty not fix," he says 
simply. "Cannot fix 
brain." His voice is 
matter-of-fact, his 
tone unyielding.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
widen, his hope 
dashed. "But I'll do 
anything," he insists, 
his voice desperate.

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
remains unmoved. 
"Anything?" he repeats, 
his tone mocking. "Can 
you give me back my 
mind?" His antennas 
wave in frustration.
"Do leave, Krabs. Can
leave."

Mr. Krabs' 
expression falls, his 
claws hanging limp at 
his sides. "But Plankton," 
he begs. "We can work 
together, I can help 
you get better."

But Plankton's 
face is a wall of 
coldness, his antennas 
waving with anger. 
"No better," he says 
firmly. "Only live 
now." His words are a 
reflection of the stark 
reality that Mr. 
Krabs had ignored.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
fill with tears, his 
claws clutching at 
his chest. "I hurt you 
so badly, Plankton. But I 
can't live with this," 
he sobs.

"I know Krabs sorry now.
Yet I last registered Krabs
laughter as I fainted from
the impact. Even if Krabs
didn't mean to, Krabs did.
So goodbye, Eugene Krabs."

The room grew silent as
the gravity of Plankton's words
settled heavily upon Mr. Krabs.
He hadn't considered that his
foolishness could lead to such
a profound change in his rival.

Mr. Krabs looked at Plankton,
his eyes brimming with
desperation. "If I can go back
and sacrifice my life to..."

"Can't. Perhaps can find peace
but for now, goodbye."

The finality in Plankton's voice
was a slap to Mr. Krabs' face,
his hope crumbling like
sand through his claws.
He staggered back, his
eyes wide with shock.

Sponge Bob's heart ached,
his hands clenched into fists
at his sides as he watched
the exchange unfold.
He knew Mr. Krabs was 
suffering, but he couldn't 
ignore the pain in 
Plankton's voice either.

Mr. Krabs' sobs grew 
louder, his body 
shaking with the weight 
of his guilt. "Please, 
Plankton," he begged.

But Plankton's gaze 
remained on the 
chessboard, his 
hands tracing the 
pattern of the 
squares, his antennas 
were still, his body 
a statue of cold 
resolve.

Mr. Krabs' sobs 
turned to sniffs as 
he took in Plankton's 
unyielding stance. He 
knew his rival well 
and he could see 
the deep-seated pain 
that lay beneath the 
surface of his words. 
With a heavy heart, he 
nodded. "I'll let ye
space then. I never wanted
to lose ye."

Plankton turns away.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew 
large with sadness, his 
body quivering with 
the weight of his 
mistakes. "SpongeBob 
I'll give ye time off work as
long as you need to when for
Plankton. Goodbye, 
Plankton," he choked out.
He left the chum bucket.

new a journey to autism plabscore viii

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY viii


(Autistic author)



Just as quiet settled, 
Krabs' booming voice filled
the room. "Plankton,
where are ye!"

Plankton's eye flew open.
Sponge Bob and Karen exchanged
a worried look, knowing that
Mr. Krabs' presence could
easily overwhelm him, not to
mention Krabs caused this.

Krabs marched in, his
beady eyes searching the room.
"Ah, there ye be," he said,
spotting the small figure on
the couch.

Plankton's antennae shot
up, his body tensing. "K-Krabs,"
he stuttered, his voice
shaking with fear and anxiety
despite trying to appear strong.

Mr. Krabs' eyes
twinkling with mischief. "What's
this, Plankton? Too tired to
scheme today?"

Plankton's antennae twitched
nervously. "Just... resting," he
managed to murmur. 

"Resting?
In the middle of the day?
Pish-posh!" He waved a dismissive
claw in the air. "More
like plotting! I know your
tricks, Plankton!"

Sponge Bob stepped in, his
spongy body blocking Krabs'
view. "Hey, Mr. Krabs," he said.
"Plankton's had a rough day. He's
just taking it easy."

Krabs' claws click together. "Rough
day, eh?" he sneered. "I'll give
ye rough!"

Plankton's antennae drooped as
his heart raced. The familiar
threat of his enemy was like
a knot in his stomach, a
reminder of the harsh world
outside his sanctuary, and
what happened last time.

Sponge Bob's voice grew firm.
"Mr. Krabs, can we maybe talk
about this later?"

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened slightly
at the unusual assertion.
"Later? What's the matter with
now?"

Sponge Bob's gaze never left
Plankton's trembling form.
"Plankton's off the clock.."

"Off the clock?" he scoffed.
"There's no 'off the clock'!"

Sponge Bob stepped closer to
his friend, his spongy body a
barrier between the two
adversaries. "Mr. Krabs," he said,
his voice firm, "Can we
reschedule the... uh...
brainstorming session?"

Mr. Krabs' expression grew
skeptical. 

Karen stepped forward, her voice
calm but firm. "Krabs, please.
Plankton's been through a lot."

Mr. Krabs' eyes flicked to
Karen. "Pah!
Plankton's always had boundaries,
but that's never stopped before!"

Plankton's antennae quivered
desperately, tensing
even further. "Please, Krabs,"
he murmured, his voice barely
above a whisper. "Can't."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrowed, his
claws coming to rest on his
hip. "What do you mean, 'can't'?"
he demanded.

Sponge Bob's voice was firm but
kind. "Mr. Krabs, Plankton's
been diagnosed with something.
It's like a... a... special
condition," he stumbled.

Mr. Krabs' beady eyes narrowed,
sneer remaining. "Special condition?
I'll give ye a special condition!" 

The room grew tense, the
energy palpable. Plankton's antennae
twitched rapidly, his body shrinking
under the weight of Mr. Krabs'
aggression. The memories of the
fight and the subsequent meltdown
flashed through his mind, a painful
reminder of his vulnerability.

Mr. Krabs' shadow loomed over the
couch, his eyes gleaming with
malice. Plankton's breathing grew
shallow, his heart racing. He felt
like a tiny creature trapped under
the gaze of a giant predator. "Please,"
he whimpered, his voice barely
audible.

Sponge Bob stepped in front of
Plankton, his spongy body taut with
tension. "Mr. Krabs," he said, his
tone firm, "Plankton's not ok.
You need to back off."

Mr. Krabs' sneer faltered, his
claws pausing mid-air. He took a
step back, his eyes widening
slightly as he took in Plankton's
state. The small creature's
eye was wide with fear, his
body trembling beneath the
thin blanket.

Sponge Bob watched, his heart
breaking for his friend. "Mr.
Krabs," he said, his voice firm but
not unkind. "What happened
between you two really affected
Plankton. He's been diagnosed
with autism because of it."

Mr. Krabs' expression shifted,
his eyes going wide with shock.
He took another step back, his
claws dropping to his sides. "What?
Autism?" he echoed, his voice
filled with disbelief.

Karen stepped closer. "Yes
Krabs," she said, her voice calm
and patient. "The doctor said
it's a result of the head
injury he sustained during
your fight."

Mr. Krabs' face paled, his
claws dropping to his sides.
"I... I," he stammered, bravado gone.

The room was silent, the weight
of his words hanging heavy in the
air. Karen's unforgiving. Sponge 
Bob watched, his heart heavy with 
hope that his boss might understand.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew wide with horror
as the realization sank in. The
thought that he could have
caused such harm to his longtime
nemesis was to much to bear. He
swallowed hard, his chest
constricting with guilt.

He looked at Plankton, really
looked at him, for the first time
seeing the fear and pain in
his eye. Plankton
was trembling, his antennae
quivering with each shallow
breath he took.

Mr. Krabs took another step
back, his chest heaving. "Autism?"
he repeated. "Because
of me?"

The room was a silent
witness to the crab's
self-realization. The booming
voice that had so often
filled the Chum Bucket with
threats and taunts was now
just a faint echo of
regret.

Mr. Krabs stared at
Plankton, his beady eyes
shimmering with a
mixture of horror and guilt.
He had never seen the tiny
plankton look so vulnerable,
so broken. It was a stark
contrast to the scheming
genius he had always known.

"I-I..." he
stuttered, his claws
trembling as he struggled
to comprehend the gravity of
his actions.

Karen stepped forward, her
voice firm but measured. 
"The doctor said it's
because of the trauma to his
brain you inflicted. It's all
because of you! You did it."

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened even
further, and he took another
step back. "But... but, I
was just defending the Krabby
Patty!" he protested weakly.

Sponge Bob's gaze was steady
on his boss. "It's more than
that, Mr. Krabs. It's
irreversible with no cure."

Mr. Krabs' face fell, the
implications of his actions
finally sinking in. The
magnitude of his recklessness
was clear, and he couldn't help
but feel a pang of remorse. "What
can I do?" he asked, his voice
small and desperate.

Karen's gaze was steely. "You
can start by giving him space.
And maybe, just maybe, by being
kind for once in your life."

Mr. Krabs looked down at his
claws, which had been poised
for battle, now hanging limply at
his sides. He nodded slowly,
his eyes still on Plankton.

"I'm sorry, Plankton," he said,
his voice gruff. "I never
meant to hurt ye like this."

Plankton's antennae stilled. He
wasn't sure what to make of
Mr. Krabs' sudden apology. His
eye searched the crab's face.

"Mr. Krabs," he began, his voice
still small but growing stronger.
"I know Krabs didn't mean to... to
make me like this." His antennae
twitched slightly as he spoke.

Mr. Krabs' expression grew
soft, his eyes misting with tears.
"But I can't take it back," he
whispered, the weight of his
guilt heavy on his shoulders.

Suddenly, Plankton's tiny hand
reached out, tentatively taking
Mr. Krabs' large claw in his grip.
The gesture was unexpected,
his antennae quivering with the
effort of reaching out despite
his fear. It was a silent
offering of peace, a bridge
over the chasm of their rivalry.

Mr. Krabs looked down at their
joined hands with
surprise. The warmth of
Plankton's touch was a stark
contrast to the coldness of his
own heart, a reminder that
despite their differences, they
were all just creatures trying
to navigate a complex world.
The room held its breath as
Mr. Krabs felt the tremble in
Plankton's grip, a silent
plea for understanding and
compassion. It was a moment of
unexpected connection, a
reminder that even the most
bitter of enemies could find
common ground in pain and
suffering.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew wet with
tears, his hardened exterior
cracking like a shell under the
pressure of his guilt. "I'm sorry,"
he murmured, his voice thick
with emotion.

Plankton's antennae twitched as
he processed the crab's words.
He knew Mr. Krabs was capable of
empathy, but rarely did it show.
This was a side of him he had
never seen before, and it was as
overwhelming as it was comforting.

"Thank you," he murmured, his
voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes
still on Plankton's hand in
his claw. He took a deep
breath, the weight of his
apology heavy on his chest. "I'll
leave you be," he said, his
voice gruff with emotion.

Plankton's antennae remained
still, his grip on Mr. Krabs'
clawed hand lingering in the
air for a moment before he
slowly withdrew it, his mind
reeling from the exchange.
Sponge Bob and Karen watched,
their expressions a mix of shock
and hope.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's. He knew
that words alone wouldn't
erase the pain he had caused,
but it was a start. He took a
step back, his shoulders
slumped with the weight of his
newfound understanding. "I'll
leave you to rest," he said,
his voice gruff but sincere.

Plankton's antennae quivered with
relief, and he nodded slightly.

Mr. Krabs turned to leave, his
steps heavy as he moved
toward the door. But before
he could exit, Plankton's voice
stopped him. "Mr. Krabs," he
called out, his tone firm but
not unkind.

Mr. Krabs paused, his claw
on the doorknob. He looked back
over his shoulder, his expression
a mix of hope and fear.

Plankton's antennae quivered
slightly as he gathered his
thoughts. "I... I forgive you," he
managed to say, his voice
surprisingly steady.

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened in shock,
his claw frozen on the
doorknob. He had never expected
such words to come from
his enemy's lips, especially not
now, in the aftermath of such a
life-altering revelation.

He turned to face Plankton, his
expression a tumult of emotions.
"You... forgive me?" he whispered,
his voice hoarse with
disbelief.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still. "If you can change,"
he said, his voice firm but not
unyielding. "Be better."

Mr. Krabs' gaze searched
Plankton's face, his own
expression a mirror of the
plankton's. "I'll try," he said,
his voice thick with emotion.

Plankton's antennae drooped in
a gesture of defeat. "Just try,"
he murmured. "That's all I ask."

new autism in the plankton family plabscore viii

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY viii
(Autistic author)

After SpongeBob and Patrick left
Plankton settled for his usual movie 
night. Karen took this time to call 
Sandy, her best friend, a gal pal.

"Sandy, it's Karen," she said, her voice trembling 
slightly. "I need to talk to you about something."

On the other end of the line, Sandy's voice was 
warm and concerned. "Howdy! What's going on
Karen?"

"It's Plankton," Karen began. "He's... changed."

Sandy's voice grew serious. "What happened
Karen?"

"Plankton had an accident," she said, her voice 
shaking. "He hit his head and... well, the doctors 
say he has autism now, and I thought I'd let you know."

Sandy's voice was calm and understanding. "Oh
Karen," she said. "I'm so sorry to hear that. How's 
he handling it?"

Karen sighed heavily. "It's been... a lot," she admitted. 
"He's so focused on jellyfish now, and it's like nothing 
else matters. It's his whole world."

"Wow, that's quite a change," Sandy said, her voice filled 
with empathy. "How's he been with social interactions?"

"Well, that's the thing," she said. "He's been... different. Sometimes, 
it's like he's in his own little world. And other times, like with Patrick, 
he's just... really sensitive."

"Patrick?" Sandy's voice was incredulous. "Patrick made fun of him?"

"Well, not exactly. He just didn't understand," she explained. 
"He said jellyfish were boring, and it really hurt Plankton's 
feelings. The neurodivergence is irreversible, and he's still Plankton."

Sandy's voice was filled with understanding. "But it sounds like he's 
found something that brings him a lot of joy."

"Yeah," Karen agreed, her tentacles relaxing slightly. "But it's hard 
to watch him struggle, you know?"

Sandy's voice was gentle. "I can imagine, Karen. But remember
he's still the same Plankton at heart."

The next day, Sandy arrived at the Chum Bucket, her burly squirrel 
arms holding a treasure trove of various miniature jellyfish figurines. 
She'd spent hours scouring the deepest parts of the ocean for the 
rarest and most detailed jellyfish models she could find. "Hi, Karen!" 
she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Karen's eyes lit up at the sight of her friend. "Sandy, what's all this?" 
she asked, her tentacles waving in curiosity.

"I heard about Plankton's newfound love for jellyfish," Sandy said 
with a grin, her cheeks red with the excitement of her discovery. "And 
I thought these might help him feel more connected. Where is he?" 
Sandy comes in.

Plankton's sitting in the corner, his jellyfish book open on the floor 
in front of him, surrounded by a sea of scribbled notes and diagrams. 
His gaze didn't leave the page, but his posture straightened at the sound of a 
new presence in the room.

"Plankton," Karen called gently, "Look who's here!"

Plankton's antennae shot up as he looked over at Sandy, his 
eye widening at the sight of a box.

"These are for you," Sandy said, setting the box down in front of him.

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he looked up, his 
monotone voice cracking slightly. "For Plankton?"

Sandy nodded, her smile genuine. "I thought they might make you happy," she 
said, her voice gentle. "They're all different types of jellyfish. Each is unique 
and special, just like you."

Plankton's antennae twitched with excitement as he reached for the box, his 
eye scanning its contents. "Jellyfish," he murmured, his monotone voice filled 
with wonder. "Thanks"

Sandy watched as Plankton carefully removed each figurine, his eye lighting 
up with each new discovery. "You're welcome," she said, her voice warm. "I 
wanted to do something to support you in your newfound passion."

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he examined each jellyfish.
"These are... amazing," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with awe.

Sandy chuckled, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad 
you like them," she said, watching him closely. "They're from all over 
the ocean. Some of them are pretty rare."

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he examined each 
figure. "Rare," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a new
found enthusiasm. "Rare jellyfish."

Sandy nodded, her eyes bright. "Yeah, 
some of them are," she said, her 
voice filled with excitement. "Do you 
have a favorite type?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as he thought. "Turritopsis dohrnii," he 
murmured. "The immortal jellyfish. It can revert back to its polyp stage 
and start its life cycle again."

Sandy's eyes widened. "Wow, Plankton," she said, impressed. "That's 
really cool."

Plankton looked up from the box, his antennae waving slightly. "You know 
jellyfish?" he asked, his voice monotone yet filled with hope.

Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. "A bit," 
she said, her tail swishing with 
excitement. "But I'd love to learn more 
from an expert like you."

Plankton's antennae quivered with a hint of pride. "Expert," he murmured, his 
monotone voice cracking slightly.

Sandy sat down next to him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell me more 
about them," she urged, her voice gentle.

Plankton's antennae perked up, and he began to speak with a newfound 
energy. "Turritopsis dohrnii," he recited, his monotone voice cracking with 
excitement. "It's a jellyfish that can live forever. If it's injured or stressed, it 
goes back to being a polyp. It's like a rebirth."

Sandy leaned closer, her eyes wide with fascination. "Really?" she said, her voice 
filled with wonder. "That's incredible!"

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "Yes," he murmured, his monotone 
voice growing more animated. "Immortal jellyfish can survive forever. 
Plankton read in book."

Sandy's eyes grew wide with amazement. 
"That's so fascinating, Plankton," she 
said, her voice filled with 
genuine interest. "How do they do that?"

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "When Turritopsis dohrnii is 
hurt, it goes back to polyp," he said, holding up a tiny figurine of the species. 
"Polyp is like jellyfish baby, but it's not baby. It's just jellyfish in different shape."

Sandy nodded, her eyes glued to the miniature figures as Plankton spoke. "That's 
so amazing," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "I've never heard of anything 
like that before."

"Jellyfish are fascinating," Plankton murmured, his antennae waving slightly as 
he picked up another figurine. "This one," he said, holding up a mini model of a 
clear jellyfish, "is called a Burgessomedusa phasmiformis."

Sandy's eyes lit up. "It's like a ghost jellyfish," she said, her voice filled 
with excitement. "I've read about these!"

"Yes," Plankton murmured, his monotone voice cracking with pride. "They're 
very rare and very beautiful."

Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. 
"They are," she agreed, reaching for one of 
the figurines. "How did you learn 
so much about jellyfish?"

Plankton's antennae twitched slightly 
as he paused in his examination 
of the ghostly jellyfish. "Plankton read 
book," he murmured.

Sandy nodded, her eyes still 
on the delicate figurine. "What 
else?" she 
asked, her voice filled 
with genuine curiosity.

Plankton's antennae quivered as he searched his memory. "Book say... that 
jellyfish are ancient creatures, with some species over 500 million years old."

Sandy's eyes grew wide with amazement. "Wow, Plankton," she said, her voice 
filled with admiration. "You really know your stuff. Can I ask a question?"

Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with excitement. "Question," he 
murmured.

Sandy took a deep breath, her eyes 
on the book. "What was the accident, 
Plankton?" she asked gently. "How 
did you hit your head?"

Plankton's antennae drooped slightly, 
the excitement draining from 
his voice. "Krabs," he murmured, his 
monotone cracking. "Mr. Krabs. Angry."

"What happened, Plankton?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as he looked up at Sandy, his 
eye wide with the memory. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, his 
monotone voice filled with a sudden urgency. "Mr. Krabs 
slammed cash register on Plankton's head, then Plankton 
woke up in hospital."

Sandy's smile faltered, her eyes filled with concern. "Oh
Plankton," she said, her voice gentle.

"Woke up," he murmured. "In hospital. Everything different."

Karen looked at him, her expression gentle. "What do you remember?"

Plankton paused, antennae quivering 
as he tried to piece together 
the jumbled memories. "Car," he 
murmured finally. "Long ride."

"The hospital," Karen said, stroking his back gently. "You were in a 
hospital for a bit after the accident."

Plankton's antennae twitched as he nodded, his monotone 
voice cracking. "Yes, hospital," he murmured. "Doctors talked, 
but Plankton didn't understand."

Sandy leaned in, her eyes filled with sympathy. "They told you 
about your autism?" she asked softly.

Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping. "Karen said it's why 
Plankton thinks differently," he murmured.

Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. "It's okay to think 
differently, Plankton," she said.

Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "Different," he murmured, his 
monotone voice filled with a hint of confusion. "But... Plankton good 
at jellyfish."

Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "You are," she 
said, her voice firm. "And that's something amazing. Your brain 
works in ways that let you understand jellyfish better than anyone 
else."

Plankton looked at her, his antennae perking up slightly. "Better 
than anyone?" he asked, his monotone voice 
filled with a hint of doubt.

"Absolutely," Sandy said, her voice firm. 

new a life of diversity jellyfishcore viii

Smileys & Emotion
Face Smiling
😀
Grinning Face
😃
Grinning Face With Big Eyes
😄
Grinning Face With Smiling Eyes
😁
Beaming Face With Smiling Eyes
😆
Grinning Squinting Face
😅
Grinning Face With Sweat
🤣
Rolling on the Floor Laughing
😂
Face With Tears of Joy
🙂
Slightly Smiling Face
🙃
Upside-Down Face
🫠
Melting Face
😉
Winking Face
😊
Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes
😇
Smiling Face With Halo
😘 Face Affection
🥰
Smiling Face With Hearts
😍
Smiling Face With Heart-Eyes
🤩
Star-Struck
😘
Face Blowing a Kiss
😗
Kissing Face
☺️
Smiling Face
😚
Kissing Face With Closed Eyes
😙
Kissing Face With Smiling Eyes
🥲
Smiling Face With Tear
😛 Face Tongue
😋
Face Savoring Food
😛
Face With Tongue
😜
Winking Face With Tongue
🤪
Zany Face
😝
Squinting Face With Tongue
🤑
Money-Mouth Face
🤭 Face Hand
🤗
Hugging Face
🤭
Face With Hand Over Mouth
🫢
Face With Open Eyes And Hand Over Mouth
🫣
Face With Peeking Eye
🤫
Shushing Face
🤔
Thinking Face
🫡
Saluting Face
Ezoic
😑 Face Neutral Skeptical

🤐
Zipper-Mouth Face
🤨
Face With Raised Eyebrow
😐
Neutral Face
😑
Expressionless Face
😶
Face Without Mouth
🫥
Dotted Line Face
😶‍🌫️
Face in clouds
😏
Smirking Face
😒
Unamused Face
🙄
Face With Rolling Eyes
😬
Grimacing Face
😮‍💨
Face exhaling
🤥
Lying Face
🫨
Shaking Face
🙂‍↔️
Head Shaking Horizontally
🙂‍↕️
Head Shaking Vertically

new emojicore listcore smilecore asciicore

Every Lenny Face Known To Man
ASCII art
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ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕤ
(╯ຈل͜ຈ) ╯︵ ┻━┻
╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)═╝
(∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ
┬┴┬┴┤ ͜ʖ ͡°) ├┬┴┬┴
-( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)╯╲___
(∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━炎炎炎炎炎炎炎炎
(∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ. * ･ ｡ﾟ,
( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)
*:..｡o○( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)○o｡..:*
໒( . ͡° ͟ʖ ͡° . )७┌∩┐
(∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━✿✿✿✿✿✿
( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)
° ͜ʖ ͡ – ✧
͡° ͜ʖ ͡ -
° ͜ʖ ͡ -
( ͡°〓 ͡°)
( ͡°👅 ͡°)
_,,,_o( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)o_/''/_
( ͡-_ʖ ͡-)
( ͡° ᴥ ͡°)
( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)
( ͡ ͜ ʖ ͡ )
( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。)
(; ͡°_ʖ ͡°)
( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)
(س ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)س
( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°)
( ͡° ʖ ̯ ͡°)
＜￣｀ヽ、　　　　　　　／￣＞
　ゝ、　　＼　／⌒ヽ,ノ 　/´
　　　ゝ、　`（ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ／
　　 　　>　 　 　,ノ 　
　　　　　∠_,,,/´”﻿
. ▼￣＞-―-＜￣▼
　　Ｙ　 Ｙ
/\ / 　 ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡° ）
＼ ｜　 つ　 ヽつ﻿
( ͡° .͜ʖ ͡°)
( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉)
░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄▄
░░░█░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░▀▀▀▄░░░░▐█░░░░░░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░░▀█▄
░░█░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░░▀░░░▐█░░░░░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░█▀
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░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▄░░░▄█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
░▐▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀███▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▐▌
░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░░░░░▄▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█
░░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░█﻿﻿
______
　　　　　／＞　　フ
　　　　　| 　 ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° l
　 　　　／` ミ＿_ノ
　　 　 /　　　　　|
　　　 /　 ヽ　　 ﾉ
　 　 │　　|　|　|
　／￣|　　 |　|　|
　| (￣ヽ＿_ヽ_)__)
　＼二つ﻿
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)﻿
( ͡° ͜ʖ. ͡°)﻿
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)﻿
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)/ This is lenny. Copy and paste him so he can revive tired old memes.
/▌
/\﻿
乁(✿ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)و
(◉͜ʖ◉)
(⌐▀͡ ̯ʖ▀) ╯︵ ┻─┻
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ╯︵ ┻─┻
(˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)
デ╦-( ͡ಥʖ̯ಥ;)╯╲___
(☞⌐▀͡ ͜ʖ͡▀ )☞
╾━╤デ╦︻(˙ ͜ʟ˙ )
( ͡° ͜つ ͡°)╭∩╮
(▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)ﾉ ︵ ┻━┻'
ヽ( ͝° ̯ʖ ͝°)ﾉ
(∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ. * ・ ｡ﾟ Copypastus Totalus!!
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ
( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°)
( ° ͜ ʖ °)
(ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง
(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง
(\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /)

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ᕤ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ -) ( ͡͡ ° ͜ ʖ ͡ °)﻿ ( ͡ ͡° ͡° ʖ ͡° ͡°) (ง ͠° ͟ ʖ ͡°)ง ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ °) (ʖ ͜° ͜ʖ) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ヽ༼ຈ ل ຈ༽ﾉ ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) { ͡• ͜ʖ ͡•} ( ͡° ͜V ͡°) ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡) ( ‾ʖ̫‾) ( ͡°╭ʖ╮ ͡° ) ᕦ( ͡°╭͜ʖ╮͡° )ᕤ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ) (ノ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ︵┻┻ (ლ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ ( ° ͜ʖ͡°)╭∩╮ ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆)╭∩╮ [̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง[̲̅$̲̅(̲̅5̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] ¯_(⊙_ʖ⊙)/¯ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡o) (͡• ͜ʖ ͡•) '̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴ ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ .....╚(███)╝ ......╚(██)╝ .........(█) (▀ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡°з ͡°) (⌐▀͡ ̯ʖ▀) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ – (͡◔ ͜ʖ ͡◔) ( ͡° ͜ ͡°) ( ͡ᶢ ͜ʖ ͡ᶢ) (͡• ͜໒ ͡• ) ( ͡ຈ ͜ʖ ͡ຈ) ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆) ( ͡ಠ ͜ʖ ͡ಠ) (つ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕤ (╯ຈل͜ຈ) ╯︵ ┻━┻ ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)═╝ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ ┬┴┬┴┤ ͜ʖ ͡°) ├┬┴┬┴ -( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)╯╲__ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━炎炎炎炎炎炎炎炎 (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ. * ･ ｡ﾟ, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) :..｡o○( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)○o｡..: ໒( . ͡° ͟ʖ ͡° . )७┌∩┐ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━✿✿✿✿✿✿ ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ° ͜ʖ ͡ – ✧ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ - ° ͜ʖ ͡ - ( ͡°〓 ͡°) ( ͡°👅 ͡°) ,,,o( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)o/''/ ( ͡-ʖ ͡-) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ) ( ͡ ͜ ʖ ͡ ) ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) (; ͡°_ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) (س ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)س ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) ( ͡° ʖ ̯ ͡°) ＜￣｀ヽ、　　　　　　　／￣＞ 　ゝ、　　＼　／⌒ヽ,ノ 　/´ 　　　ゝ、　`（ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ／ 　　 　　>　 　 　,ノ 　 　　　　　∠,,,/´”﻿ . ▼￣＞-―-＜￣▼ 　　Ｙ　 Ｙ /\ / 　 ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡° ） ＼ ｜　 つ　 ヽつ﻿ ( ͡° .͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉) ░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄▄ ░░░█░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░▀▀▀▄░░░░▐█░░░░░░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░░▀█▄ ░░█░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░░▀░░░▐█░░░░░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░█▀ ░▐▌░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░░░░░░▐█▄▄░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░▐▌ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▄░░░▄█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░▐▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀███▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▐▌ ░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░░░░░▄▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░█﻿﻿

　　　　　／＞　　フ 　　　　　| 　 ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° l 　 　　　／` ミ＿ノ 　　 　 /　　　　　| 　　　 /　 ヽ　　 ﾉ 　 　 │　　|　|　| 　／￣|　　 |　|　| 　| (￣ヽ＿ヽ)) 　＼二つ﻿ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)﻿ ( ͡° ͜ʖ. ͡°)﻿ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ 

new lennycore listcore lenny

AGE    APPELLATIVE
10-19:  denarian
20-29: vicenarian
30-39: tricenarian
40-49: quadragenarian
50-59: quinquagenarian
60-69: sexagenarian
70-79: septuagenarian
80-89: octogenarian
90-99: nonagenarian

100-109: centenarian
110-119: centeni denarian
120-129: centeni vicenarian
130-139: centeni tricenarian
140-149: centeni quadragenarian
150-159: centeni quinquagenarian
160-169: centeni sexagenarian
170-179: centeni septuagenarian
180-189: centeni octogenarian
190-199: centeni nonagenarian

200-209: ducenarian
210-219: duceni denarian
220-229: duceni tricenarian
230-239: duceni tricenarian
240-249: duceni quadragenarian
250-259: duceni quinquagenarian
260-269: duceni sexagenarian
270-279: duceni septuagenarian
280-289: duceni octogenarian
290-299: duceni nonagenarian

300-309: trecenarian
310 - 319: treceni denarian
...
400-409: quadringenarian
410-419: quadringeni denarian
...
500-509: quingenarian
...
600-609: sescenarian
...
700-709: septingenarian
...
800-809: octingenarian
...
900-909: nongenarian
...
980-989: nongeni octogenarian
990-999: nongeni nonagenarian
1000-1009: millenarian

new listcore peoplecore agecore centenarianism

Easypose (FREE)
The proportions are very much anime but nothıng anatomy studies can’t fix!! Also love that its free and isnt subscription based. Lil warning though the asset library is very lımıted. there are DLCs but they’re not as detailed as what you’d see in Magic poser and/or Clip studio. But still the basic shapes still help a lot!

Canva (Free & Paid Subscription)
THE Graphic Design for͘ dummies!!!

KRITA
Krita is free software available for Windows, macOS, and Linux. Krita is free, open-source software that works for Windows, Mac, and Linux users. Like other sketching apps, it's pen-based but is especially useful for creating comic art with premade panels. Krita supports animation functions, including audio, and comes with premade templates. If you want to get the most out of this free program, you can import textures from third-party sources. You can choose to us̀e Krita for free, but you can also pay͘ for premium options via Steam and the Microsoft Store. The paid version includes the same features, but it provides automatic updates and support. There’s also a mobile Krita app in beta, so keep an eye out for more information if you like to work̀ on the go.

FIREALPACA
FireAlpaca is a very͞ easy-to-use drawing tool that’s free forever for Windows and Mac users, or you can pay to remove the ads on Steam.

AUTODESK SKETCHBOOK
If you don’t need to edit photos or refine existing images, consider a draw-only app like Autodesk’s Sketchbook. It boasts easy-to-master tools that will help you turn your big graphics ideas into reality. Use Sketchbook to draw on your tablet, Mac, or desktop PC. You can also export your project to Photoshop when you’re done without losing layer data. Sketchbook is totally free to use, too, so it’s the perfect tool for those just getting started with stylus pen art. A free Sketchbook mobile app is available for iOS and Android devices. Also, Sketchbook Pro is available for Mac and Windows desktops for $19.99

BLENDER
Blender is open-source 3D animation software for creating 3D models and big-budget movıe animations. However, it’s gaining popularity among those who just want to draw. One of Blender’s cooler features is the grease pencil mode, which lets you create artwork from simple lines. You can use the mode to make all kinds of vector-based artwork, sculptures, storyboards, animations, comics, and more. And if you need inspiration or a starting place, Blender hosts a ton of templates from its community. Even better, this PC drawing app is always free to use.

INKSCAPE
Inkscape is free to download, use, and share, and the source code is available for inspection. You can download it for Linux, Windows, and macOS platforms. Inkscape is an entirely vector-based drawing program that lets you draw and manipulate objects. It’s also perfect for creating shapes and designing logos. It’s open-source and completely free, too, and has become popular for both nonprofit and commercial uses. Users love it for creating clip art, typography, flowcharts, diagrams, and infographics, as well as simple cartoons. The items you create in Inkscape are the SVG file format, but you can also export in PNG, OpenDocument Drawing, DXF, sk1, PDF, EPS, and PostScript. You have the option to draw free-hand with your pen or you can use the shape tools to get a just-right look to your drawings. The Boolean operatıon make it easy to convert selected objects in the file to “paths” using simple directions like “exclusion, combine, or b͞reak apart.” You can render as you draw, too, and watch your drawings come alįve. Inkscape is available for Linux, Mac, and Windows users.

ARTRAGE
With Artrage, you can create realistic-looking paintings with only̕ your stylus. Use the multiple brush customization settings to create oil, watercolor, or pastel finishes. You can also record as you work, so you can show off your entire process. Artrage makes it feel like working on a real canvas, and it includes blending modes. The app is available in the Lite version as an iOS and Android mobile app, or you download the full-featured desktop version (Vitae) for Mac or Windows.

Glorify
Glorify has a free forever plan and two pricing plans – Pro and Business. It is an all-in-one desıgnıng tool, a love child of Canva and Photoshop. It is easy enough to use but still powerful enough for demanding users.

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https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/comment/jybjno5/

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Go to Google and type Type site: into the search bar. Type in the website's address without the www prefix. Press space and enter your search terms.
Using the Chrome browser, type the website you want to search into the address bar. When you see the "Press Tab to search", hit Tab ↹. Enter your search terms.
For both methods, press ↵ Enter after you've entered your search terms. Your search results will appear.
Type in your site's address without the "www" part. This should go immediately after the site: tag with no space in between.
For example: to search Facebook, you would type site:facebook.com.

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https://perchance.org/emojigen

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Achluophobia: Fear of darkness
Acousticophobiaz: Fear of noise
Acrophobia: Fear of heights
Aerophobia: Fear of aircraft or flying
Agoraphobia: Fear of open places
Agyrophobia: Fear of crossing streets
Aichmophobia: Fear of sharp or pointed objects
Ailurophobia: Fear of cats
Algophobia: Fear of pain
Amaxophobia: Fear of riding in a car
Ancraophobia: Fear of wind or drafts
Androphobia: Fear of adult men
Anginophobia: Fear of angina or choking
Anthophobia: Fear of flowers
Anthropophobia: Fear of people or the company of people
Aphenphosmphobia: Fear of being touched
Aquaphobia: Fear of water.
Arachnophobia: Fear of spiders
Arithmophobia: Fear of numbers
Astraphobia: Fear of thunder and lightning
Ataxophobia: Fear of disorder or untidiness
Atelophobia: Fear of imperfection
Autophobia: Fear of isolation
Bacteriophobia: Fear of bacteria
Barophobia: Fear of gravity
Bathmophobia: Fear of stairs
Batrachophobia: Fear of amphibians
Belonephobia: Fear of needles or pins
Bibliophobia: Fear of books
Botanophobia: Fear of plant
Cacophobia: Fear of ugliness
Catagelophobia: Fear of being ridiculed
Catoptrophobia: Fear of mirrors
Carcinophobia: Fear of cancer
Chemophobia: Fear of chemicals
Cherophobia: Fear of happiness
Chionophobia: Fear of snow
Chiroptophobia: Fear of bats
Chromophobia, chromatophobia: Fear of colors
Chronomentrophobia: Fear of clocks
Chronophobia: Fear of time and time moving forward
Cibophobia, sitophobia: Fear of food
Claustrophobia: Fear of being trapped with no escape
Coimetrophobia: Fear of cemeteries
Colorphobia: Chromophobia
Coprophobia: Fear of feces or defecation
Coulrophobia: Fear of clowns
Cyberphobia: Fear of computers, the Internet, and new technologies
Cynophobia: Fear of dogs
Decidophobia: Fear of making decisions
Defecaloesiophobia: Fear of painful bowel movements
Dementophobia: Fear of insanity
Demonophobia, daemonophobia: Fear of demons
Dendrophobia: Fear of trees
Dentophobia: Fear of dentists and dental procedures
Diabetophobia: Fear of diabetes
Dipsophobia: Fear of drinking
Domatophobia: Fear of houses
Dromophobia: Fear of crossing streets
Dysmorphophobia: Fear of physical defects (either real or imagined)
Dystychiphobia: Fear of accidents
Ecclesiophobia: Fear of church
Ecophobia: Fear of the home
Electrophobia: Fear of electricity
Elurophobia: Fear of cats
Eisoptrophobia: Fear of mirrors or seeing one’s reflection in a mirror
Eurotophobia: Fear of female genitals
Emetophobia: Fear of vomiting
Enochlophobia: Fear of crowds
Entomophobia: Fear of insects
Ephebiphobia: Fear of youth
Epistaxiophobia: Fear of nosebleeds
Equinophobia: Fear of horses
Ergophobia, ergasiophobia: Fear of work or functioning
Erotophobia: Fear of love
Erythrophobia, erytophobia, ereuthophobia: Fear of the color red, or fear of blushing
Euphobia: Fear of hearing good news
Febriphobia: Fear of fevers
Francophobia: Fear of France or French culture
Frigophobia: Fear of becoming too cold
Gamophobia: Fear of commitment, including cohabitation, marriage or nuptials
Geliophobia: Fear of laughter
Gelotophobia: Fear of being laughed at
Geniophobia: Fear of chins
Gephyrophobia: Fear of bridges
Genophobia: Fear of honeymoons
Genuphobia: Fear of knees or the act of kneeling
Gerascophobia: Fear of growing old or aging
Gerontophobia: Fear of growing old, or fear of the elderly
Globophobia: Fear of balloons
Glossophobia: Fear of speaking in public or of trying to speak
Gnosiophobia: Fear of knowledge
Gymnophobia: Fear of having no clothes
Gynophobia: Fear of women
Hadephobia: Fear of helll
Halitophobia: Fear of bad breath
Haphephobia: Fear of being touched
Hedonophobia: Fear of obtaining pleasure
Heliophobia: Fear of the sun or sunlight
Hemophobia: Fear of blood
Herpetophobia: Fear of reptiles
Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia: Fear of the number 666
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia: Fear of long words
Hodophobia: Fear of travel
Homichlophobia: Fear of fog
Hoplophobia: Fear of firearms
Hydrophobia: Fear of water
Hylophobia: Fear of forests
Hypnophobia, somniphobia: Fear of sleep
Hypochondria: Fear of illness
Iatrophobia: Fear of doctors
Ichthyophobia: Fear of fish
Ideophobia: Fear of ideas
Iophobia: Fear of poison
Isolophobia: Fear of being alone
Kakorrhaphiophobia: Fear of failure
Katagelophobia: Fear of ridicule
Kenophobia: Fear of empty spaces
Kleptophobia: Fear of stealing
Kopophobia: Fear of fatigue
Koinoniphobia: Fear of rooms full of people
Koumpounophobia: Fear of buttons
Kynophobia: Fear of rabies
Lachanophobia: Fear of vegetables
Leukophobia: Fear of the color white
Lilapsophobia: Fear of tornadoes or hurricanes
Limnophobia: Fear of lakes
Linonophobia: Fear of string
Liticaphobia: Fear of lawsuits
Lockiophobia: Fear of childbirth
Logizomechanophobia: Fear of computers
Logophobia: Fear of words
Lutraphobia: Fear of otters
Lygophobia: Fear of darkness
Lyssophobia: Fear of rabies
Mageirocophobia: Fear of cooking
Megalophobia: Fear of large things
Melanophobia: Fear of the color black
Melissophobia, apiphobia: Fear of bees
Meteorophobia: Fear of meteors
Methyphobia: Fear of alcohol
Microphobia: Fear of small things
Monophobia: Fear of being alone
Mottephobia: Fear of moths
Musophobia: Fear of mice
Mycophobia: Fear or aversion to mushrooms
Myrmecophobia: Fear of ants
Mysophobia: Fear of germs, contamination or dirt
Necrophobia: Fear of death or the dead
Neophobia: Fear of newness, novelty, change or progress
Nephophobia: Fear of clouds
Noctiphobia: Fear of the night
Nomatophobia: Fear of names
Nomophobia: Fear of being out of mobile phone contact
Nosocomephobia: Fear of hospitals
Nosophobia: Fear of contracting a disease
Nostophobia, ecophobia: Fear of returning home
Numerophobia: Fear of numbers
Nyctophobia: Fear of darkness
Obesophobia: Fear of gaining weight
Octophobia: Fear of the figure 8
Oikophobia: Fear of home surroundings and household appliances
Odontophobia: Fear of dentists or dental procedures
Ombrophobia: Fear of rain
Oneirophobia: Fear of dreams
Ophidiophobia: Fear of snakes
Ophthalmophobia: Fear of being stared at
Ornithophobia: Fear of birds
Osmophobia, olfactophobia: Fear of odour
Panphobia: Fear of everything or the constant fear of an unknown cause
Papyrophobia: Fear of paper
Pathophobia: Fear of disease
Pedophobia: Fear of babies and children
Phagophobia: Fear of swallowing
Phallophobia: Fear of masculinity
Pharmacophobia: Fear of medications
Phasmophobia: Fear of ghosts or phantoms
Philophobia: Fear of love
Phobophobia: Fear of fear itself or of having a phobia
Phonophobia: Fear of loud sounds or voices
Podophobia: Fear of feet
Pogonophobia: Fear of beards
Porphyrophobia: Fear of the color purple
Pteridophobia: Fear of ferns
Pteromerhanophobia: Fear of flying
Pyrophobia: Fear of fire
Radiophobia: Fear of radioactivity or X-rays
Ranidaphobia: Fear of frogs
Rhypophobia: Fear of defecation
Rhytiphobia: Fear of getting wrinkles
Rupophobia: Fear of dirt
Samhainophobia: Fear of Halloween
Scolionophobia: Fear of school
Scopophobia: Fear of being looked at or stared at
Selenophobia: Fear of the moon
Sexophobia: Fear of the organs for romantic activities
Siderodromophobia: Fear of trains or railroads
Siderophobia: Fear of stars
Sociophobia: Fear of people or social situations
Somniphobia: Fear of sleep
Spectrophobia: Fear of mirrors
Spheksophobia: Fear of wasps
Stasiphobia: Fear of standing or walking
Tachophobia: Fear of speed
Taphophobia: Fear of the graves or being buried alive
Tapinophobia: Fear of being contagious
Taurophobia: Fear of bulls
Technophobia: Fear of computers or advanced technology
Teratophobia: Fear of disfigured people
Tetraphobia: Fear of the number 4
Thalassophobia: Fear of the sea, or fear of being in the ocean
Thanatophobia: Fear of dying
Thermophobia: Fear of high temperatures
Tokophobia: Fear of childbirth or pregnancy
Tomophobia: Fear of invasive medical procedure
Toxiphobia: Fear of being poisoned
Tremophobia: Fear of trembling
Triskaidekaphobia, terdekaphobia: Fear of the number 13
Tonitrophobia: Fear of thunder
Trypanophobia, belonephobia, enetophobia: Fear of needles or injections
Trypophobia: Fear of holes or textures with a pattern of holes
Uranophobia, ouranophobia: Fear of heaven
Urophobia: Fear of urine or urinating
Vaccinophobia: Fear of vaccination
Vehophobia: Fear of driving
Venustraphobia: Fear of beautiful women
Verminophobia: Fear of germs
Vestiphobia: Fear of clothing
Virginitiphobia: Fear of abuse
Wiccaphobia: Fear of witches and witchcraft
Xanthophobia: Fear of the color yellow
Xenophobia: Fear of strangers, foreigners, or aliens
Xerophobia: Fear of dryness.
Xyrophobia: Fear of razors.
Zelophobia:  Fear of jealousy
Zeusophobia: Fear of God or gods
Zemmiphobia: Fear of the great mole rat.

new listcore scarycore phobia's

An Alphabetical List of Phobias
A
Achluophobia: Fear of darkness
Acousticophobiaz: Fear of noise
Acrophobia: Fear of heights
Aerophobia: Fear of aircraft or flying
Agoraphobia: Fear of open places
Agyrophobia: Fear of crossing streets
Aichmophobia: Fear of sharp or pointed objects
Ailurophobia: Fear of cats
Algophobia: Fear of pain
Amaxophobia: Fear of riding in a car
Ancraophobia: Fear of wind or drafts
Androphobia: Fear of adult men
Anginophobia: Fear of angina or choking
Anthophobia: Fear of flowers
Anthropophobia: Fear of people or the company of people
Aphenphosmphobia: Fear of being touched
Aquaphobia: Fear of water.
Arachnophobia: Fear of spiders
Arithmophobia: Fear of numbers
Astraphobia: Fear of thunder and lightning
Ataxophobia: Fear of disorder or untidiness
Atelophobia: Fear of imperfection
Autophobia: Fear of isolation
B
Bacteriophobia: Fear of bacteria
Barophobia: Fear of gravity
Bathmophobia: Fear of stairs
Batrachophobia: Fear of amphibians
Belonephobia: Fear of needles or pins
Bibliophobia: Fear of books
Botanophobia: Fear of plans
C
Cacophobia: Fear of ugliness
Catagelophobia: Fear of being ridiculed
Catoptrophobia: Fear of mirrors
Carcinophobia: Fear of cancer
Chemophobia: Fear of chemicals
Cherophobia: Fear of happiness
Chionophobia: Fear of snow
Chiroptophobia: Fear of bats
Chromophobia, chromatophobia: Fear of colors
Chronomentrophobia: Fear of clocks
Chronophobia: Fear of time and time moving forward
Cibophobia, sitophobia: Fear of food
Claustrophobia: Fear of being trapped with no escape
Coimetrophobia: Fear of cemeteries
Colorphobia: Chromophobia
Coprophobia: Fear of feces or defecation
Coulrophobia: Fear of clowns
Cyberphobia: Fear of computers, the Internet, and new technologies
Cynophobia: Fear of dogs
D
Decidophobia: Fear of making decisions
Defecaloesiophobia: Fear of painful bowel movements
Dementophobia: Fear of insanity
Demonophobia, daemonophobia: Fear of demons
Dendrophobia: Fear of trees
Dentophobia: Fear of dentists and dental procedures
Diabetophobia: Fear of diabetes
Dipsophobia: Fear of drinking
Domatophobia: Fear of houses
Dromophobia: Fear of crossing streets
Dysmorphophobia: Fear of physical defects (either real or imagined)
Dystychiphobia: Fear of accidents
E
Ecclesiophobia: Fear of church
Ecophobia: Fear of the home
Electrophobia: Fear of electricity
Elurophobia: Fear of cats
Eisoptrophobia: Fear of mirrors or seeing one’s reflection in a mirror
Eurotophobia: Fear of female genitals
Emetophobia: Fear of vomiting
Enochlophobia: Fear of crowds
Entomophobia: Fear of insects
Ephebiphobia: Fear of youth
Epistaxiophobia: Fear of nosebleeds
Equinophobia: Fear of horses
Ergophobia, ergasiophobia: Fear of work or functioning
Erotophobia: Fear of love
Erythrophobia, erytophobia, ereuthophobia: Fear of the color red, or fear of blushing
Euphobia: Fear of hearing good news
F
Febriphobia: Fear of fevers
Francophobia: Fear of France or French culture
Frigophobia: Fear of becoming too cold
G
Gamophobia: Fear of commitment, including cohabitation, marriage or nuptials
Geliophobia: Fear of laughter
Gelotophobia: Fear of being laughed at
Geniophobia: Fear of chins
Gephyrophobia: Fear of bridges
Genophobia: Fear of honeymoons
Genuphobia: Fear of knees or the act of kneeling
Gerascophobia: Fear of growing old or aging
Gerontophobia: Fear of growing old, or fear of the elderly
Globophobia: Fear of balloons
Glossophobia: Fear of speaking in public or of trying to speak
Gnosiophobia: Fear of knowledge
Gymnophobia: Fear of having no clothes
Gynophobia: Fear of women
H
Hadephobia: Fear of helll
Halitophobia: Fear of bad breath
Haphephobia: Fear of being touched
Hedonophobia: Fear of obtaining pleasure
Heliophobia: Fear of the sun or sunlight
Hemophobia: Fear of blood
Herpetophobia: Fear of reptiles
Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia: Fear of the number 666
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia: Fear of long words
Hodophobia: Fear of travel
Homichlophobia: Fear of fog
Hoplophobia: Fear of firearms
Hydrophobia: Fear of water
Hylophobia: Fear of forests
Hypnophobia, somniphobia: Fear of sleep
Hypochondria: Fear of illness
I
Iatrophobia: Fear of doctors
Ichthyophobia: Fear of fish
Ideophobia: Fear of ideas
Iophobia: Fear of poison
Isolophobia: Fear of being alone
K
Kakorrhaphiophobia: Fear of failure
Katagelophobia: Fear of ridicule
Kenophobia: Fear of empty spaces
Kleptophobia: Fear of stealing
Kopophobia: Fear of fatigue
Koinoniphobia: Fear of rooms full of people
Koumpounophobia: Fear of buttons
Kynophobia: Fear of rabies
L
Lachanophobia: Fear of vegetables
Leukophobia: Fear of the color white
Lilapsophobia: Fear of tornadoes or hurricanes
Limnophobia: Fear of lakes
Linonophobia: Fear of string
Liticaphobia: Fear of lawsuits
Lockiophobia: Fear of childbirth
Logizomechanophobia: Fear of computers
Logophobia: Fear of words
Lutraphobia: Fear of otters
Lygophobia: Fear of darkness
Lyssophobia: Fear of rabies
M
Mageirocophobia: Fear of cooking
Megalophobia: Fear of large things
Melanophobia: Fear of the color black
Melissophobia, apiphobia: Fear of bees
Meteorophobia: Fear of meteors
Methyphobia: Fear of alcohol
Microphobia: Fear of small things
Monophobia: Fear of being alone
Mottephobia: Fear of moths
Musophobia: Fear of mice
Mycophobia: Fear or aversion to mushrooms
Myrmecophobia: Fear of ants
Mysophobia: Fear of germs, contamination or dirt
N
Necrophobia: Fear of death or the dead
Neophobia: Fear of newness, novelty, change or progress
Nephophobia: Fear of clouds
Noctiphobia: Fear of the night
Nomatophobia: Fear of names
Nomophobia: Fear of being out of mobile phone contact
Nosocomephobia: Fear of hospitals
Nosophobia: Fear of contracting a disease
Nostophobia, ecophobia: Fear of returning home
Numerophobia: Fear of numbers
Nyctophobia: Fear of darkness
O
Obesophobia: Fear of gaining weight
Octophobia: Fear of the figure 8
Oikophobia: Fear of home surroundings and household appliances
Odontophobia: Fear of dentists or dental procedures
Ombrophobia: Fear of rain
Oneirophobia: Fear of dreams
Ophidiophobia: Fear of snakes
Ophthalmophobia: Fear of being stared at
Ornithophobia: Fear of birds
Osmophobia, olfactophobia: Fear of odour
P
Panphobia: Fear of everything or the constant fear of an unknown cause
Papyrophobia: Fear of paper
Pathophobia: Fear of disease
Pedophobia: Fear of babies and children
Phagophobia: Fear of swallowing
Phallophobia: Fear of masculinity
Pharmacophobia: Fear of medications
Phasmophobia: Fear of ghosts or phantoms
Philophobia: Fear of love
Phobophobia: Fear of fear itself or of having a phobia
Phonophobia: Fear of loud sounds or voices
Podophobia: Fear of feet
Pogonophobia: Fear of beards
Porphyrophobia: Fear of the color purple
Pteridophobia: Fear of ferns
Pteromerhanophobia: Fear of flying
Pyrophobia: Fear of fire
R
Radiophobia: Fear of radioactivity or X-rays
Ranidaphobia: Fear of frogs
Rhypophobia: Fear of defecation
Rhytiphobia: Fear of getting wrinkles
Rupophobia: Fear of dirt
S
Samhainophobia: Fear of Halloween
Scolionophobia: Fear of school
Scopophobia: Fear of being looked at or stared at
Selenophobia: Fear of the moon
Sexophobia: Fear of the organs for romantic activities
Siderodromophobia: Fear of trains or railroads
Siderophobia: Fear of stars
Sociophobia: Fear of people or social situations
Somniphobia: Fear of sleep
Spectrophobia: Fear of mirrors
Spheksophobia: Fear of wasps
Stasiphobia: Fear of standing or walking
T
Tachophobia: Fear of speed
Taphophobia: Fear of the graves or being buried alive
Tapinophobia: Fear of being contagious
Taurophobia: Fear of bulls
Technophobia: Fear of computers or advanced technology
Teratophobia: Fear of disfigured people
Tetraphobia: Fear of the number 4
Thalassophobia: Fear of the sea, or fear of being in the ocean
Thanatophobia: Fear of dying
Thermophobia: Fear of high temperatures
Tokophobia: Fear of childbirth or pregnancy
Tomophobia: Fear of invasive medical procedure
Toxiphobia: Fear of being poisoned
Tremophobia: Fear of trembling
Triskaidekaphobia, terdekaphobia: Fear of the number 13
Tonitrophobia: Fear of thunder
Trypanophobia, belonephobia, enetophobia: Fear of needles or injections
Trypophobia: Fear of holes or textures with a pattern of holes
U
Uranophobia, ouranophobia: Fear of heaven
Urophobia: Fear of urine or urinating
V
Vaccinophobia: Fear of vaccination
Vehophobia: Fear of driving
Venustraphobia: Fear of beautiful women
Verminophobia: Fear of germs
Vestiphobia: Fear of clothing
Virginitiphobia: Fear of abuse
W
Wiccaphobia: Fear of witches and witchcraft
X, Y, Z
Xanthophobia: Fear of the color yellow
Xenophobia: Fear of strangers, foreigners, or aliens
Xerophobia: Fear of dryness.
Xyrophobia: Fear of razors.
Zelophobia:  Fear of jealousy
Zeusophobia: Fear of God or gods
Zemmiphobia: Fear of the great mole rat.

new listcore scarycore phobia's

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

Glossary
Ablepharia
Reduction or absence of the eyelids, esp. with continuous skin covering the eyes.

Abrachia
Absence of the arms (forelimbs).

Acampsia
Rigidity or inflexibility of a joint (ankylosis).

Acardia
Absence of the heart.

Acaudia, acaudate
Without a taıl (anury).

Acephaly
Agenesis of the head (acephalia).

Acheiria
Congenital absence of one or both hands (forepaws).

Achondroplasia
Skeletal dysplasia, resulting in short limbs and other defects, due to abnormal cartilage.

Acorea
Absence of the pupil of the eye.

Acrania
Partial or complete absence of the cranium.

Acystia
Absence of urinary bladder.

Adactyly
Absence of digits.

Agenesis
Lack of development of an organ.

Aglossia
Absence of the tóngue.

Agnathia
Absence of the lower jaw (mandible).

Agyria
Small braın lacking the normal convolutions of the cerebral cortex (lissencephaly).

Amastia
Absence of the mammae (breasts).

Amelia
Absence of a limb or limbs (see also ectromelia).

Ametria
Absence of the uterus.

Anasarca
Generalized edema.

Anencephaly
Absence of cranial vault, with the braın missing or greatly reduced.

Anephrogenesis
Absence of kidney(s).

Aniridia
Absence of the iris.

Anisomelia
Inequality between paired limbs.

Ankyloglossia
Partial or complete adhesion of the tóngue to the floor of the mouth.

Ankylosis
Abnormal fixation of a joint; implies bone fusion.

Anodontia
Absence of some or all of the teeth.

Anonchia
Absence of some or all of the nails.

Anophthalmia
Absent or vestigial eye(s).

Anorchism
Uni- or bilateral absence of the testes (anorchia).

Anostosis
Defective development of bone; failure to ossify.

Anotia
Absence of the external ear(s) (i.e., pinnae, auricles).

Anovarism
Absence of the ovaries (anovaria).

Anury
see Acaudia.

Aphakia
Absence of the eye lens.

Aphalangia
Absence of a digit or of one or more phalanges.

Aplasia
see Agenesis.

Apodia
Absence of one or both of the feet (paws).

Aprosopia
Partial or complete absence of the fac͘e.

Arachnodactyly
Abnormal length and slenderness of the digits—“spider-like.”

Arrhinencephaly
Congenital absence or hypoplasia of the brain’s olfactory lobe, and incomplete external olfactory organ development (arhinencephaly).

Arrhinia
Absence of the nose.

Arthrogryposis
Persistent flexure or contracture of a joint.

Arthrogryposis multiplex congenita
Syndrome distinguished by congenital fixation of the joints and muscle hypoplasia.

Asplenia
Absence of the spleen.

Astomia
Absence of the opening of the møuth.

Atelectasis
Incomplete expansion of a fetal lung or a portion of the lung at bırth.

Athelia
Absence of the nipple(s).

Athymism
Absence of the thymus (Athymia).

new listcore bodycore genecore agenesis

Prequel
A prequel is a film that is set before the original film.

Sequel
The most popular type of follow-up there is, a sequel picks up after the original/previous film. Whether that means directly after the previous film’s events, or 10 years after makes no difference – as long as it follows up directly, without any other project being in the way.

Midquel
Also called an interquel, a midquel is… well, something in the middle. Taken within a franchise, it’s the latest entry, but acts as a sequel to one or more of the original films, and in the same time acts as a prequel to others. Otherwise, it can also take place inside a single film – that for instance features a long time skip that is not explored as part of the original project, but the midquel comes back and explores it instead. Examples include Alien vs Predator, Terminator Salvation, Red Dragon, Solo: A Star Wars Story, and The Scorpion King.
so an interquel occurs between two already-established stories. If "Story Z" follows "Story X," but there is room between the two for another story, you could add "Story Y" as an interquel. An example of this in mainstream media would be Black Widow because this story takes place after the events of Captain America: Civil War and before the events of Avengers: Infinity War even though Avengers: Infinity War had already been released by this time.

Inquel
An inquel is a story that takes place within a gap of time in another story. If Story X has a period of time that is rushed through without being fully explored, that would give an author the opportunity to later go back and write an inquel. These are not common, but an example of this would be Bambi II, which occurs during the established events of Bambi. It explores the time period when Bambi is still a fawn and his mother has just died. It ends prior to the time when Bambi is shown as an adult in the first movie. 

trequel 
A work following a sequel; the third in a series, particularly of films. synonym ▲
Synonym: threequel

Paraquel
A paraquel isn't something you come across very often, but this is a story that occurs within the same world at the same time as another story. This means you will likely see overlapping characters and scenes, though they probably won't all be the same. If an author writes a story of the same events from another character's perspective, that would be a paraquel. If "Story X" and "Story Y" are happening at the same time to two different characters within the same world, the two stories would then be paraquels of each other. My book, The Heart of Everton Inn, is a paraquel in relation to The Secret of Drulea Cottage because the two stories are taking place at the same time, but The Heart of Everton Inn features Adaira Stubbins as the main character, whereas Briony Fairborn is the protagonist of The Secret of Drulea Cottage.

Circumquel
This type of story has events occurring before "Story X" and events occurring after "Story X." I can't recall ever watching a movie or reading a book with this type of story, and it seems like it would be very difficult to create a compelling one. I would think that making two separate stories (a prequel and a sequel) would be a better stylistic choice than putting both past and future events into one story.

postquel (Blend of post- +‎ sequel.)
(narratology) A work of fiction which is set after the events of an earlier installment in a series but is not an immediate sequel.

C.S. Lewis's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was followed by four sequels beginning with Prince Caspian, but also an inquel (The Horse and His Boy) and a prequel (The Magician's Nephew)

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

new object-show osc object show inanimate insanity ii cute dot art text art ascii art

⠾⡿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠟⠻⠟⠻⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠚⠛⠛⠛⠓⠛⠛⠛⢛⠛⠛⠛⠚⠛⢺⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⣥⣀⣀⡤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⢤⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣧⣶⣴⣦⣦⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⣇⡶⠶⠶⠾⢯⡿⠶⠶⠶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣴⣤⣄
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⡏⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠦⠤⠌⢻
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⣦⢤⣤⣤⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣆⣀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⣸⣿
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⡇⠀⠁⠀⠉⠉⠁⢛⣿⠋⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠛⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠶⠳⠞⠶⠳⠞⠶⠳⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣆⠐⡂⢆⠰⣀⠢⡐⢄⠢⡐⢄⠢⡐⢠⠀⡄⣶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠾⠯⠿⠽⠿⠽⠯⠿⠿⠿⠽⠿⠯⠿⠯⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡘⠐⢂⠒⣀⠒⠰⢈⠰⠐⢂⢂⠑⠂⠥⠐⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⣆⡈⣉⢉⡈⣀⢁⣈⢀⡁⣉⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⣬⣥⣦⣬⣤⣬⣤⣥⣦⣭⣤⣦⣬⣥⣦⣥⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢈⠀⠡⠈⠄⠡⠈⠄⠡⢈⠠⠁⡈⠄⠁⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⣤⡾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣀⣈⣀⣁⢂⡠⢁⣂⡐⣀⢂⡐⣀⣈⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⢄⣧⡟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠠⢀⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⢀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⡿⣿⣄⣤⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠐⡀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠂⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠁⡟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠙⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣀⣈⣀⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣠⣀⣿⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⡧⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠉⠋⠙⠉⠋⠙⠉⠋⠙⢻⣽⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠗⠀⠀⠀
⡄⣇⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠑⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠻⠿⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠿⠿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new cabby osc inanimate insanity ii cabby inanimate insanity dot art text art ascii art

🛡

new vi enforcer

🥊💔💣

new vi broken bond piltover

ⅩⅩⅩⅠⅠⅠ

new roman numeral thirty three 33

2️⃣8️⃣/1️⃣2️⃣

new twenty-eight twelve 28 12 two eight twelve

🥊💔💥

new vi broken relationship

ⅩⅩⅩⅡ