Wellbeing Emojis & Text

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"You're going to be okay," Karen assured Plankton. He clutched her hand. "I'm right here." The receptionist's voice echoed through the large waiting room. "Plankton?" Karen's heart jumped. She squeezed her husband's hand. They walked down the hallway, Plankton's breaths shallow, eye darting around the white, sterile walls. The nurse led them to a small room. "Just a few questions," the nurse smiled, her voice soothing as she helped him in the recliner. The nurse, noticing his agitation, spoke slowly and clearly. "We're just going to take your blood pressure, okay?" The nurse wrapped the cuff around his bicep, her movements gentle. The hiss of the air pump filled the tense silence. "Look at me, Plankton," Karen whispered, her calming gaze meeting his. "Take deep breaths." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm. The nurse waited patiently, giving them space. As the cuff tightened, Plankton's eye squeezed shut. The nurse completed her task quickly, her voice steady. "Good job," she said, patting his hand. Karen felt his fear spike, but his grip on her hand remained firm as the oral surgeon walked in. Dr. Marquez nodded at them, his demeanor calm and professional. "Hello, Plankton. I see we're getting ready for your wisdom teeth." He noticed Plankton's tension and turned to Karen. "You earlier mentioned his neurodisability. Is there anything special we can do to help make him comfortable?" Karen's screen lit up with gratitude. "Yes, thank you." She explained his need for calm and his sensory sensitivities. Dr. Marquez nodded thoughtfully. "We can use a weighted blanket to help with that. It provides a gentle pressure that can be quite comforting for some of my patients." He turned to the nurse. "Could you please bring one?" The nurse nodded and left the room. When she returned, she carried a soft, blue weighted blanket they warmed. They placed the blanket over Plankton, the weight evenly distributed. His body visibly relaxed under its soothing embrace. "It's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae. "This will help." Plankton felt the warmth of the blanket, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders and chest. But it did little to ease his dread. "Thank you, Dr. Marquez," Karen managed a smile, relief washing over her. She knew how important these accommodations were for her husband. The doctor explained the procedure, using simple terms that Plankton could understand. Karen noted how he tailored his explanation to avoid overwhelming details that might trigger anxiety. The anesthesiologist entered, her smile kind. "We're going to give you some medicine to help you sleep," she said gently, "and then you'll wake up without feeling a thing." Plankton nodded, his eye wide. Karen leaned in, her voice low. "You can hold my hand as you fall asleep." The anesthesiologist prepared the IV, but Plankton's grip on Karen's hand grew tighter. Dr. Marquez noticed his distress and suggested a different approach. "How about some laughing gas first?" he offered. "And perhaps a topical numbing agent.." The nurse quickly set up the gas mask, explaining each step. "This will help you relax," she said, placing it over him. "Just breathe normally." The sweet smell of the nitrous oxide filled him, yet he still remained awake. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen said soothingly. "Just keep breathing." He took a tentative breath, feeling the gas fill his lungs. The room began to spin, but not in the scary way he'd feared. It was more like floating. The weight of the blanket now felt like a gentle hug from the ocean depths, a warm embrace from his childhood home. Dr. Marquez waited until Plankton's breathing steadied, each gesture carefully calculated to avoid any sudden movements that might startle his patient. "You're doing great," he assured Plankton, his voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his anxiety. "You're almost there." Plankton inhaled another lungful of gas, his eye fluttering closed. The nurse gently began applying the topical numbing agent, her movements carefully choreographed to avoid any sudden jolts. Karen held his other hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're safe," she whispered. "I'm here." The gas grew heavier, his mind drifted further from the cold reality of the room. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the weighted blanket now a warm sea of comfort. His grip on Karen's hand grew looser, his breaths deepening. The doctor nodded to the anesthesiologist, who began the IV drip after using the topical numbing agent. Plankton's fear didn't vanish, but it became manageable, a distant thunderstorm rather than a hurricane in his face. His eye closed completely, his body going limp under the blanket. Karen watched as the surgical team moved with precision, their masks and caps dancing in her peripheral vision. The beeping of machines and the murmur of medical jargon filled her ears, but all she focused on was the rhythm of Plankton's breathing. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors and gave a nod. "He's ready," she said quietly. Dr. Marquez took his position, his gloved hands poised over Plankton's now open mouth after removing the gas mask. Karen's gaze was steady, her love and support unwavering as the surgical team moved in unison. The whirring of the instruments began, a soft mechanical lullaby to the background of Plankton's deep, even breaths. The surgery itself was a dance of precision, each gesture a step carefully choreographed to minimize discomfort. The doctor's hands were steady as he removed the wisdom teeth. Karen could see the tense lines in Plankton's face soften under the influence of the anesthesia. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors continuously, ensuring his vital signs remained steady. The nurse offered Karen a chair, but she chose to stand, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. As the surgery progressed, Karen felt the tension in the room ease. The surgical team worked with efficiency, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. Dr. Marquez spoke in hushed tones with his assistants, each word a gentle whisper in the symphony of medical sounds. Plankton's breaths steadied, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a soothing reminder that he was still with her, that his anxiety had been replaced by the peacefulness of deep sedation. The doctor's instruments continued to dance, a silent ballet of precision and care. The nurse occasionally glanced at Karen, offering a reassuring smile as they suture his gums with dissolving stitches. "Alright, we're all done," Dr. Marquez announced, his voice a gentle interruption to the symphony of beeps and whirs. "Let's wake him up slowly." Karen felt her own heart rate spike as the anesthesiologist began reversing the medication. They removed the IV drip and the nurse wiped Plankton's mouth with a soft cloth, her touch as gentle as a sea anemone caressing his skin. His eye flickered open, unfocused and hazy. He blinked slowly, taking in the surroundings. Karen's screen was the first thing he saw, a beacon in the medical fog. "You're okay," she murmured, her voice the gentle hum of a distant lighthouse guiding his consciousness back to shore. Plankton blinked again, his vision swimming into focus. The weighted blanket was still wrapped around him, the comforting pressure now a grounding reminder of her presence. His mouth felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. The nurse offered him water, and he sipped it slowly, feeling the coolness soothe his throat. "How do you feel?" Dr. Marquez asked, his voice a soft wave breaking over the shore of Plankton's awareness. Plankton nodded, his grip on Karen's hand firm. "Good," he managed to murmur, his voice thick with the aftermath of the anesthesia. Karen could see the relief in his eye, the storm of fear now a distant memory. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )

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As a neurodivergent person I find emojicombos.com a favourite site. I also write here to make others happy and to make stories inspired by events similar to my experiences, so I can come back to them on any device to. Also, I hope any person reading has a great day! -NeuroFabulous (my search NeuroFabulous)
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•‿•(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧₊˚⊹♡-`♡´-(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭˙ᵕ˙(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣄⠀⠀⡠⠠⡤⠤⠄⠀⡠⠄⠄⡀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣰⣴⣦⣴⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠠⠁⠀⡇⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⢀⡅⢀⠮⢧⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠺⠃⠀⠀⠧⠤⠔⠈⠃⠤⠼⠃⠎⠀⠈⠇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣦⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠘⠉⠡⠈⠉⠄⠀⠷⠯⠿⠗⠇⠄⠌⠠⠌⠡⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠋⠀⠀⠀⢡⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡘⠤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⡘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠰⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠐⠢⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⠍⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢁⠂⠏⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠙⣿⣿⡿⣡⢃⠌⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠖⣉⣤⣬⡈⠘⡄⢊⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣧⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠿⣿⣿⣱⠊⡔⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣦⣶⣷⣿⠿⣛⣭⣽⢗⣈⠂⠢⢙⣿⣿⡟⢡⠏⣟⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠫⣿⣿⣮⠱⡄⢂⠀⠀⡀⠀⢰⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⡿⠗⠀⠀⠁⠢⢸⣿⣧⣸⣦⡘⣜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣡⣾⣷⣶⣶⣿⡷⠟⠛⠻⠟⠿⠻⢶⡛⠳⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠥⢹⣿⣧⣱⣱⢱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠑⢌⣺⣿⣿⣿⠈⢧⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⣿⡿⣿⠿⠋⢡⠄⠀⠀⠀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⡄⣸⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣂⡶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠱⠀⠀⠀⣹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⢈⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⠄⡀⠀⠀⢼⣦⣤⣰⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠠⠄⠩⣄⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⡔⣀⢀⠚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣦⡙⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⢶⠰⣨⣿⣿⢯⣭⣶⣶⢾⢟⡻⣻⢿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢧⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣜⣿⣿⣿⣟⢋⠯⣔⣴⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡞⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢾⣽⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢭⣻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠙⣮⣷⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠉⣛⠿⡤⠄⠀⠺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⡻⢜⣺⢳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡔⢠⠈⡉⢷⡄⠐⠘⡞⣿⣿⡿⣩⠖⣥⠟⢁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣴⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢱⠏⠁⠈⠅⡀⠐⠈⠆⡘⠀⣀⠧⠙⢏⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣠⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⡧⠂⠂⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⡀⠕⡪⢑⢪⡆⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡇⠂⠜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠄⠐⢂⡑⡩⡝⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣌⠡⢂⠀⠐⠂⠈⠠⠄⠀⡁⠐⠌⠱⣘⣿⡇⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠴⡁⢌⠠⢂⠈⡁⠀⡀⠄⢁⠒⣡⡹⡾⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣒⡹⡐⢎⢐⠄⡩⢠⠖⡂⠍⠤⢒⢇⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
🩹🩹👩‍⚕️
“Neurodivergent Umbrella”* Beneath the umbrella, it lists: ADHD DID & OSDD ASPD BPD NPD Dyslexia CPTSD Dyspraxia Sensory Processing Dyscalculia PTSD Dysgraphia Bipolar Autism Epilepsy OCD ABI Tic Disorders Schizophrenia Misophonia HPD Down Syndrome Synesthesia * non-exhaustive list
┌ ⃟🧠̶͞⇣
TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your finger before they use it in your mouth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the sucking noise. See how you feel with the specific doctor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the doctor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep throat test, ask if you can swab your own throat, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your throat’s structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)
hopefully my writing posts help ppl to feel understood or at least get a glimpse of all the possibilities neurodiverse ppl may experience (: (my search NeuroFabulous)
ㅤ🔐 ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘⡣🧠ㅤ𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖨𝖲 𝖬𝖸 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖣?ㅤ║▌│█ ║▌
ˋ 💮 ˊ « ᴅʀ. ℒʸ∂ɪ🄰в ɪs ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ » 『🩺』┆ sʜᴇ’ᴅ!!┆『🚑 』ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴇᴇᴋᴇɴᴅ! ˋ🏥 ˊ⚕
brain, dna,study 🧠🧬📚
"medical lab technician" "🥼💉🦠🩸🔬🧫"
🦠👩‍⚕🧬🩺💉🦠👩‍⚕🧬🩺💉
👁️‍🗨️5️⃣👁️(*^o^*)
︶꒷꒦︶ 𓊆🤍𓊇 •┈ The Doctor Will See You Soon ೀ ┈• ❤️‍🩹 °˖ ⊹ ꒰🗝️🌡️꒱ Welcome back』ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ❤️‍🩹 ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ 𓍯 Don't You Worry 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈 ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆🩸 ┆ ┆ ┆ ⩩♥︎₊ I promise you… ⟢ ┆ ┆🩸 ┆ ‍ ᖗ⚠︎ This Will Be Quick 💉 ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ 🩸 ✄ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𓍯𓂃『Oh dear!』ˊˎ-   ☹︎『My、This Doesn't Look So Good』☹︎          ・・・ 🩹『It was an honest mistake!』🩸
ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ ᵂⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ⁽ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ‧" ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴱⁿⁱᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉˣᵗʳᵃᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵃᵇˡᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ‧ "ᴱⁿʲᵒʸᵃᵇˡᵉ‽" ᴱⁿⁱᵈ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧
DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procedure, get to meet the physician and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procedure, look up the physician and/or the clinic website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procedure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc.
❁્᭄͜͡🧠
⋆˙⟡♡⚕🩺⊹ 🤍
(∩^o^)⊃━☆°
ᵀᵒᵒᵗʰ ᴮᵉ ᵀᵒˡᵈ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵐᵘᵐ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ; ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧” ᔆᵒ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ ᵈʳᵒᵖˢ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴴⁱ, ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ’ˢ ᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵘⁿᵈʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱʳᵗʸ ᶠⁱᵛᵉ ᵈᵉᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵖˡᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸ‧ “ᴰᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ, ᴵ’ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ!” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ, ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ? ᔆᵒ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ, ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧” ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃᵗⁱᵉⁿᵗ‧ “ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ?” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ “ᴺᵒʷ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ, ʷᵉ’ᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵒʳ ˡⁱᑫᵘⁱᵈ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᶠᵒʳᵐ?” ᴴᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ? ᴵᵗ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿ…” ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ, ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗˢ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʲᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃⁱᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˢᵃᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿⁱˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁿᵉˢˢ, ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧‧” ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧ “ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ˡᵃᵖ?” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒⁿ‧ “ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?” ᴺᵒʷ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ?” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ, ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧ “ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵘʳᵍᵉʳ?” “ᵁʰ?” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧” ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵖ?” “ʸᵉ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵃᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ “ᴬᵘ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵐᵘˢᵗ’ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵘⁿᵍʳʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ… “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵇᵃᵇʸ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ?” ᴴⁱˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ?” “ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ⁱᶠ…” “ʸᵉˢ, ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!” ᔆᵃʸˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ, ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ‧ “ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᵐᵘᵐ!” ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ, ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ “ᵂʰᵒ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒⁿ ˢʰʳᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ‧ “ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ!” ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ‧ “ᴴⁱ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ʰᵒʷ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ?” “ᴬ ˡⁱˡ‧‧” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ; ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵒᵘᵗ, ⁱᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ, ʷᵒʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧” “ᴵ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ!” ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ “ᴬᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ, ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᵃ ⁿᵘᵐᵇ ʲᵃʷ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵒᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ “ᴬⁿ ᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʸ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ! ᴺᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵘᵈ, ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃᵘᵈⁱᵇˡᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ!” “ᴼʰ, ʰᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧‧” ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ, ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ‧ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟻𝟶𝟶
🏹 🧠 🏹
ـــــــــﮩ٨ـᯓᡣ𐭩∞
💊♡🌡️✩°
ִ ࣪𖤐˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
💊🩹🩶⋆⭒˚.⋆
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°
🩺⚕️👩‍⚕️
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.𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊ ʚɞ ๋࣭ ⭑ ✧˖ .✩°。⋆⸜(˙꒳​˙ )✮⋆˙ ‧₊˚ ˚☽˚. ⋅ ⋆
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ᯓ.ᡣ𐭩‧₊˚ ⊹
⋆ ✮ .˚ ⟡ ωoᥒᥒɩᥱ ⟡ ˚. ✮ ⋆
౨ৎ ˚☽˚.⋆ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ʚɞʚɞʚɞʚɞʚɞʚɞʚɞʚɞʚɞ꩜ .ᐟ꩜ .ᐟ꩜ .ᐟ꩜ .ᐟ
♡ ̆̈ ㅤ ᵕ̈ㅤ ᵕ̈
🌟✨💫⭐light✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.🪄✨
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⣚⠡⠀⢹⣧⣾⣿⡏⣉⠐⠄⣀⠃⡄⠂⠌⡉⠙⢿⣿⣷⣦⡁⠀⠁⠈⠄⢂⠡⢈⠄⠒⠤⢈⠌⡑⢢⡑⠜⣌⠲⣙⢬⡛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣣⠞⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⠣⠅⡐⠀⢰⣿⡿⢁⠂⠄⢂⠐⣀⠒⣼⣿⣶⣷⣧⣦⣈⠝⣿⣿⣶⣥⣈⠀⢂⠐⠠⠘⡈⢒⢈⠰⣁⠣⢜⡸⢄⡛⣬⢲⡹⣼⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣳⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣘⠠⣐⢠⣿⡿⠄⠃⠌⡐⢠⠒⢄⡘⠼⣿⡏⢙⣿⣷⣿⣾⣤⡛⣿⣿⣿⣷⣆⠈⠄⠡⠐⠢⡈⠔⡠⢃⠎⡴⢩⠖⣥⢣⢗⣎⢷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⡷⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢯⡳⣡⣿⣿⠣⢌⠑⡂⠜⡠⢊⠔⡠⢃⠜⠻⣾⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡍⡟⣿⢛⢤⡈⡐⠡⢂⠑⢌⡐⢡⠚⣐⢣⡙⢦⡛⡼⣎⠷⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣙⣿⣿⣟⡡⢊⠔⡈⢆⠱⡀⠎⡐⠢⠌⠒⢨⠹⣿⣿⣿⣘⣿⣿⣾⡱⢂⠍⢢⡐⢁⢂⠡⠈⠄⡄⠣⡘⠤⠣⡜⢣⡝⠶⣭⣛⣾⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡿⣿⣿⡷⡈⢆⠘⡰⢈⠒⠤⡑⢠⠃⢌⠑⢢⠑⡬⡙⣏⣻⣛⣿⠉⠛⡠⠈⠄⠠⡁⠆⣌⡑⠢⢄⡱⣠⢃⠳⣌⠳⣜⡛⡶⣽⢶⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡶⣶⡲⢦⣤⣀⠀⢰⣇⣿⣿⢣⠑⡂⠡⢂⠡⠌⡐⠨⠄⠱⢈⠐⠂⠌⡀⠡⠉⠉⢄⡠⠜⠠⠐⠀⢀⢢⣽⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣷⣬⣽⡽⣯⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣞⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢳⣮⠟⣿⣾⣿⡟⣏⠰⢈⠐⡀⢂⠐⠠⢁⠈⡐⠠⢈⠐⠀⠀⠀⠄⡈⢀⠠⠀⠂⠀⠀⣆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣿⣿⣿⣟⠿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⢿⡽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣂⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡃⠌⡐⢀⠂⠌⡐⠠⡁⢐⠀⢂⠀⠀⢈⠀⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠀⠠⡑⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠹⢷⣇⣠⣿⣻⣿⣿⣷⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡀⢀⣠⣶⣶⣶⣓⣶⣶⡶⣤⢤⣾⡿⣟⢯⡝⣮⠳⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠍⡐⢀⢢⣼⣴⣈⠡⠐⠡⠈⠄⠠⢁⠂⡈⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡈⠔⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⢳⡁⠒⡬⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢧⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⡿⣟⢿⢿⡛⢯⠱⣍⠚⡜⠰⣙⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣋⠶⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢆⡐⢨⣿⣿⣿⣧⣅⠉⡄⢁⠈⢱⣄⠀⠐⠠⠀⠄⠀⠀⢄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⢢⠙⡰⢀⢇⡚⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠐⣯⡳⣏⢞⡱⢎⡵⣊⠏⣆⠉⢆⠡⠄⠃⡌⠱⣸⣿⣿⣿⢿⣙⠲⣉⠖⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡍⡰⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣦⡀⢂⠀⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⡈⢯⣿⣿⣻⢿⡟⡄⢣⠀⢃⠦⡙⢦⣳⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⣶⡹⡜⣪⠑⡎⡔⡡⠎⠤⠉⡄⠂⠌⡐⠠⢃⣿⣿⣿⡟⡦⣍⠲⣡⢚⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢿⣿⣿⠟⠠⠘⢿⣼⣿⣿⣶⣄⢢⣄⠛⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⡐⢂⢾⡷⣯⢿⡷⡈⠔⡈⠄⢢⠙⡆⢧⡳⣯⢿⣿⡿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣘⢶⡹⣜⣡⢋⠴⣨⠑⡎⢤⠁⡄⢁⠂⠄⡑⢬⣿⣿⣿⡝⠲⣌⠓⡤⢢⠱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⣀⠄⠘⠟⢻⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⢂⠔⣠⣱⣴⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⢳⡡⢒⠠⠌⢂⡱⣘⢧⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣟⢮⢳⢇⡞⡬⢒⡥⢋⡜⢢⠱⡀⠆⣈⠐⡐⣺⣿⣿⣿⠜⡣⢜⡘⠤⢃⠍⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡏⠈⠀⠈⠄⠛⣧⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣿⢿⣿⣿⣟⣿⡻⢧⢣⡑⢂⠆⡘⠤⣱⢚⣼⣳⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣟⠮⣝⡺⣜⡱⢣⡜⡣⡜⣡⠒⡥⣈⠄⠢⡐⣿⣿⣿⣯⡓⡱⢊⠴⡉⢆⡘⠌⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢷⡀⠄⡁⢦⡘⢦⡈⠛⠿⣉⡛⢿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣦⡱⢌⠒⣌⠲⣵⣻⣾⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⡝⢦⡓⢧⣑⡣⢜⡡⢳⣡⢛⣴⡆⠌⠱⣸⣿⣿⣿⣷⡱⢡⢋⠴⡁⠦⡘⠤⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣴⣶⡆⠀⡀⠘⣿⣦⣙⢢⠐⡠⠘⢉⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⢳⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣷⢚⡥⢏⡷⡭⡝⢦⢣⢧⡘⠿⣦⢿⡌⡐⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡙⢦⡉⢆⡑⢢⢁⠒⡄⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⢼⡥⣄⠡⢿⣽⣿⣷⣮⣕⣺⣦⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣾⣿⡿⣿⡽⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡿⡜⣜⢣⢟⡲⣙⢧⢫⢜⡻⣧⡍⢿⡇⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡹⢆⡍⢢⠜⡠⢊⡐⠨⠌⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣟⢀⠠⣨⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡜⣬⢣⢏⠶⣩⢎⠧⣎⢵⡩⢿⡆⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⠲⡌⢥⠊⡔⢡⠐⡡⢘⠠⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡠⡔⠈⣎⢽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡯⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡷⢮⡱⢎⡎⢇⡓⣎⢳⡜⢦⡙⣦⡵⢩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠷⣉⠦⡙⠴⡁⢎⠰⡁⢎⡐⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣳⢞⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⢣⡝⢮⡜⢣⡹⢌⡳⣌⢧⡙⢦⡃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠷⣩⢖⡩⢆⡙⢌⡱⢘⠦⣱⠩⢿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡱⢎⡳⡜⢣⡜⢣⡓⢬⢒⡝⣢⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⡽⣱⢎⡕⢢⠍⡒⡌⢣⠚⡤⢋⢦⡙⠴⡩⣿⢁⣠⣤⣴⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⢳⣍⠶⣍⠳⣜⢣⡙⢦⡩⠖⡥⣟⠼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣼⣓⠮⡜⡡⢎⠱⣈⠣⣉⠖⣩⢆⡹⣜⣱⣿⠨⡑⢎⣒⢣⢫⣿⠟⠿⠉⠏⠙⠗⠒⠶⢤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⢣⣎⠷⣩⠳⣌⠧⣙⠦⣑⠫⡴⣩⠒⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣝⠲⡡⠓⡌⠒⡄⢣⢔⣩⢖⡮⡵⣎⡷⣿⠆⡑⠢⢌⡣⢖⡹⡆⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠳⣜⣫⣕⢫⡜⢎⡵⢣⣍⢣⠳⣥⢋⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣎⠳⣡⠓⣌⡱⣜⢫⡿⣜⢯⡞⣵⡻⣼⣿⠃⡌⡱⢨⠜⡆⢆⡙⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡹⣖⢣⣎⠳⣜⡣⢞⠥⣚⢬⢳⣌⠣⠼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣜⠳⢦⣙⣦⣳⡜⣧⣻⡾⠟⠿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡰⢐⠥⣣⢚⠼⣡⢎⠰⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣱⢭⡳⣎⠽⣢⠝⡭⢎⡵⢪⡳⢌⡱⢊⠼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣯⡟⢯⡹⢏⣿⣿⠏⡰⢉⠎⡥⣹⢾⣿⡉⠷⣾⢡⣎⢷⣣⢎⠆⡁⣐⣦⣾⣿⣿⣿⡾⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡵⣫⠵⣎⠟⡴⣋⠞⣥⢚⡵⣋⠦⡑⢪⠱⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢧⣚⡥⣛⡼⣻⡇⠜⣄⠣⢞⡰⡱⢎⣿⡜⢳⢧⡳⢎⡷⣻⣿⣶⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢛⣟⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡞⣵⢻⡜⣏⠶⣩⢛⡴⢫⣜⢇⢎⡱⡁⢯⣰⣿⢿⡼⣱⡿⣙⢶⣣⢟⡵⣳⣿⠑⡎⠴⣩⢎⡵⣙⡞⣿⡜⢣⢾⡱⢯⣝⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣃⢀⠸⣯⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡽⣚⣧⢻⡌⢷⡡⢏⡜⣯⡎⣜⢢⢣⢱⣾⡟⣧⢻⡜⣿⢧⣙⣮⢳⣏⢾⣹⣇⠳⣌⢳⡱⢎⡾⣱⢾⣿⢼⡣⢞⡱⣏⢾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣴⡏⠀⢲⣿⣷⣹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⢞⡽⣎⢷⡘⢧⡙⣮⢱⡯⢜⡆⡳⣬⣿⡳⢯⡝⣧⢻⡟⢦⡝⣮⢗⡞⣧⢻⣏⡜⢦⢣⡝⣮⢳⡽⣾⡏⣼⢇⡯⢵⣛⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣠⣿⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣷⡻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠼⣧⢹⡌⡹⣄⠹⣄⡿⡸⢄⡸⢡⣿⣇⠿⣇⢿⡸⣿⡿⣈⢿⡸⣏⡼⣡⢿⡸⡌⣇⠧⣼⢡⣿⢧⣿⢧⡸⣇⠼⣇⡿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢠⣿⡿⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⢿⣷⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡹⣞⢧⢏⡵⢪⡝⣾⠣⡕⣪⢴⣿⠷⣎⠿⣜⡧⣟⣿⣳⡹⣎⢷⡹⣞⡵⣻⢵⢫⡜⣏⢶⣛⡾⣿⣿⢣⡜⣣⢟⣼⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⢠⣾⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⢺⡝⠾⣷⡹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⢵⣫⠞⡮⣜⢧⣺⢃⠳⡜⣵⣿⢯⣟⣭⢟⣮⠷⣿⠿⣥⢻⡜⣧⠿⣜⣳⡝⣮⢳⡹⣎⡷⣯⣟⣿⣯⠳⡜⢧⣛⡶⣯⣿⣿⣿⡟⢠⡘⣾⣿⣿⠁⢂⡍⣿⣿⣓⢾⡹⣜⣿⣮⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣟⡎⡷⣙⢶⣹⢲⠇⣎⠳⣽⣿⣟⣯⢞⡾⣹⣞⡻⣵⢻⡜⣧⢻⣼⣻⡽⣲⡝⣮⢳⣝⡾⣽⣳⣿⣿⣿⠳⣍⢷⡹⣾⣽⣿⣿⡟⣄⢣⣾⣿⣿⡟⣬⢳⣞⡵⣿⣿⣚⣿⣶⣹⣿⣿⡷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡿⣜⣳⡹⣎⢧⡛⡜⢦⡙⣻⣿⣞⣧⢻⣝⡧⣏⡷⣽⣣⠿⣜⣧⣟⡷⣽⢧⢿⣜⡳⣾⣽⣳⢿⣾⣻⢭⡓⣎⢧⣻⢷⣿⣿⣿⡗⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣽⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠼⣡⡟⣬⠗⣭⠚⡵⢨⢽⣿⣞⡷⣯⣞⡷⣽⣞⣷⣯⣿⣿⣾⣽⣿⣽⣾⣻⣎⢷⣻⣞⣿⣿⡷⣏⢶⡹⢬⡳⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣟⠾⣱⢻⡌⡟⡴⢋⡜⡡⢾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣳⢯⣿⣯⣿⣿⣯⢷⣫⢮⡱⣏⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣙⢧⡛⡼⣱⢣⢋⠴⣡⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣳⢧⣷⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡷⣭⢞⡱⣣⢓⣎⢱⢊⣔⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣟⠶⣩⠖⣥⢫⠔⡣⢎⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⠳⣥⢛⡴⣋⠼⡑⣾⣿⣿⡿⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⠳⣌⠳⡜⣬⠣⣽⣿⣿⠿⣡⠳⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣷⠹⣬⢳⡹⢤⣳⣿⣿⢏⢧⡳⢟⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⠳⣌⠳⣜⢣⣿⣿⢏⡾⢣⡝⣾⣿⣿⣿⣳⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⠳⣜⠳⣌⣿⣿⡳⣫⢜⡣⣾⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⠳⣌⠳⣼⣿⡱⣏⠵⣪⢵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣻⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣯⢓⡬⣽⡿⣼⠹⣥⠻⣜⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣯⣿⠿⣋⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡱⣲⣿⡱⢏⡳⣎⠿⣜⡾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣧⣷⣿⢿⡏⢧⣳⡾⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣴⡿⢧⣛⡭⣳⢞⣽⣫⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣷⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⢿⡙⣧⢣⢷⡹⣞⢮⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⢣⡝⣶⢫⣞⣵⣫⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡵⠋⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🖤🤍💊
🩹⋆⑅˚₊🗯™
SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 1/2 (By NEUROFABULOUS) The morning light peeked through the blinds, painting stripes on the bedroom floor. Karen stirred in her sleep, sitting up. Her husband, Plankton, slept peacefully beside her, his arms wrapped around a pillow. Karen looked over at him, his face calm and serene. The digital alarm clock read 7:00 AM. She carefully slid out of bed, trying not to disturb his slumber. "Karen," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. She paused, half in and half out of the bed. Did he wake? But Plankton's snores grew softly, his breathing even. She sighed with relief. Their son Chip, a lanky teenager, was already up. Karen could hear his footsteps thundering down the hallway, his energy palpable even through the closed bedroom door. He burst into the room, a tornado of teenage angst and excitement. "Mom! Dad!" he shouted. "It's the day!" Karen winced at his volume. Plankton stirred, his eye slitting open. "What is it?" he asked, his voice groggy. "The science fair!" Chip exclaimed, his screen flushed with excitement. Plankton's eye shot open and he sat up instantly, his mind racing. The patty heist. Today was the day he had been meticulously planning for weeks. He had overheard Mr. Krabs, his rival at the Krabby Patty, bragging about their restaurant's dominance over the competition. Plankton had to have it. "Chip, buddy," he said, his voice a mix of sleep and urgency. "I will try to make it, but can’t guarantee it. But Karen, I mean ‘Mom’ can.." Karen's eyes widened, but she nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Her husband’s obsession with Krabby Patties had taken over again. "I'll be there for you, buddy," she assured Chip, trying to mask her own disappointment. Plankton threw the covers off, swinging his tiny legs over the side of the bed. His eye was sharp with focus, his mind already racing with the complexities of his heist. "I'll make it quick," he told Karen, kissing her screen. Plankton tiptoed, his heart pounding. The office door was closed, but unlocked. He eased it open, his eye darting around the room, searching for any signs of movement. Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob were deep in conversation, their backs to the door. Plankton took a deep breath and slipped in, his tiny frame barely making a sound. "Halt!" Mr. Krabs spun around, his beady eyes locking onto Plankton. His face grew red with anger. "What do ye think yer doing here?" Plankton froze, his heart thumping in his chest. "I... I... was just looking for a... a... " He searched for a plausible lie, but his mind was a whirlwind of panic. Mr. Krabs' glower deepened. "Don't lie to me, ye tiny scoundrel! I know what yer after, and ye'll not get it!" Mr. Krabs lunged forward, brandishing a heavy spatula. Plankton squeaked in alarm, trying to dodge the blow. But his reflexes weren't quick enough. The metal spatula connected with his head with a sickening crack, sending him crashing to the floor. The room spun around Plankton as darkness closed in. The last thing he heard was SpongeBob's startled, "Mr. Krabs!" before the world went silent. Mr. Krabs looked down at Plankton's crumpled form, his expression a stormy mix of anger and triumph. He turned to his trusty fry cook. "SpongeBob," he barked. "Take this...this... tiny troublemaker out of me office.." Sponge Bob looked at Mr. Krabs, then at Plankton, his face a mask of confusion and concern. He gently scooped Plankton up with one spongy arm, his eyes filled with concern for the unconscious villain. The weight of the situation hit him, and his steps were heavy as he carried his friend out of the office. He could feel the tension in the room as Mr. Krabs watched them go, his glower never leaving Plankton's form. Sponge Bob's mind raced with questions and worry. He had known Plankton for a long time, despite their rivalry over the Krabby Patty formula. They had shared laughs and schemes in the past, but this... He couldn't believe his boss would stoop so low as to attempt to hurt Plankton. As he stepped into the hallway, Sponge Bob quickly scanned for any prying eyes. The corridor was empty, the usual bustle of the Krabby Patty silenced by the early morning hour. Carefully, he navigated through the kitchen, trying not to jostle him. "What have you done?" Sponge Bob whispered to the unconscious Plankton, his voice tight with concern. He couldn't help but feel a pang of anger at his friend's usual foolishness, but his primary thought was to get him to safety. He carefully maneuvered Plankton's limp body past the kitchen appliances. The sizzle of the frying oil and the faint scent of sea salt filled the air, but Sponge Bob's thoughts were elsewhere. With a heavy heart, he carried Plankton's limp form down the narrow alley between the Krabby Patty and the Chum Bucket. The morning was still cool, the sun not yet high enough to warm the concrete. The journey was quick, but it felt like an eternity to Sponge Bob. Each step was precise, each breath measured. He didn't want to cause his friend any more harm. He reached the Chum Bucket, the neon lights flickering weakly in the early morning. With a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, he slipped inside, the smell of stale chum and machinery assaulting his nostrils. "Karen!" he called out softly, his voice echoing in the small space. "Karen, it's Sponge Bob; I need your help!" Karen rushed to the front of the Chum Bucket, her eyes widening at the sight of her husband's lifeless body. "What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling. Sponge Bob gently laid Plankton down on their couch, his eyes filled with remorse. "He... he tried to steal the Krabby Patty formula again," he stammered. "Mr. Krabs... he hit him." Karen's screen paled as she took in the sight of her injured husband. She quickly moved to his side, feeling for a pulse. It was there, still present. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Sponge Bob watched, his eyes brimming with apology. "I didn't know what to do," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Krabs... he just lost it." Karen's eyes were cold and hard. "Thank you for bringing him home, Sponge Bob," she said, her words clipped. “It’s not your fault..” Her voice trailed off as she turned her attention to Plankton. She gently shook his shoulder. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispered. He didn't move. Her eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of consciousness. "Wake up," she said, a bit louder this time, her voice laced with desperation. The silence was deafening. The room felt like it was closing in on them, the air thick with the scent of concern and fear. Karen's voice grew desperate. "Plankton, wake up!" she shouted, patting his cheek gently. There was no response. Panic began to creep into her voice. "Come on, you can do it," she urged, shaking him slightly. "You've got to wake up." Plankton's body remained motionless, his single eye closed tight. Sponge Bob felt the panic swell inside him like a wave crashing against the shore. His heart raced as he watched Karen's desperate efforts to revive her husband. "Maybe we should call a doctor," he suggested, his voice quivering. Karen's eyes snapped to his, a mix of fear and determination. "No," she decided firmly. "We can't involve anyone else. Not yet." The two of them stood silently for a moment, the only sound the ticking of a clock hanging on the wall. They waited, every second seemingly stretching into an eternity. Each tick was a silent plea for Plankton to regain consciousness. Karen's hand hovered over her husband's forehead, feeling for any sign of life. Sponge Bob looked on, his usually cheerful expression now etched with worry. They waited, each second stretching into an eternity, as the morning sun began to creep into the Chum Bucket, casting a pale light over the disheveled scene. The only sounds were the soft whir of the refrigerator and the distant calls of seagulls. Then, a twitch from one of his antennas. It was so slight that Sponge Bob almost missed it. But Karen's gaze was trained on Plankton, and she noticed immediately. Her eyes lit up with hope. "Plankton?" she whispered, her hand moving to his cheek, her voice barely audible. There was another twitch, this time in his brow. Karen's heart leaped in her chest. "Sponge Bob, I think he's coming to." Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on Plankton's face. "Plankton," he whispered, his voice full of hope. "Can you hear us?" Plankton's eye cracked open, battling against the brightness of the morning. His vision was blurry, and the world spun around him. He moaned softly, his head throbbing with pain. "What happened?" he managed to croak, his voice hoarse and weak. Karen's eyes filled with relief. "You're awake!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "You got hurt at the Krabby Patty."
SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 2/2 (By NEUROFABULOUS) Plankton's memory was a jumble of images and sounds, but he recaled the confrontation with Mr. Krabs, the spatula, and the pain. He sat up slowly, his head spinning. The pain was intense, but his mind was racing even faster. Plankton looked around the room, his eye trying to make sense of the scene. The Chum Bucket was a mess, his usual order thrown into chaos. Karen's face was a blur of concern, and Sponge Bob hovered close by, his expression filled with a mix of fear and pity. Plankton's mind raced, his thoughts scattered like sand in a storm. He felt a deep disconnect from the world around him, as if he was watching a play in which he was a reluctant participant. His head throbbed, but not just from the blow. It was the pressure of his own thoughts, his brain working overtime to process what had just occurred. Karen noticed the confusion in his expression and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You had an accident, sweetie," she said softly. "It's okay. You're home now." Plankton's eye darted around the room, his mind struggling to understand the sudden shift in his reality. The noise was overwhelming, each sound a needle pricking his sensitive nerves. "Karen," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "What's happening?" Her gaze softened. "You got hurt, Plankton," she explained gently. "But the science fair," he mumbled, his thoughts jumbled. Karen's expression grew even more concerned. "The science fair can wait, Plankton," she soothed. But Plankton's mind was stuck in a loop, repeating her words. "The science fair can wait Plankton," he echoed, his voice frail and distant. Karen's eyes grew wet with worry. "Yes, dear," she said, stroking his arm. "Your wellbeing is more important." Plankton's eye narrowed as he repeated her words, his voice a mix of stubbornness and determination. "Wellbeing is important," he murmured, his thoughts racing. The words echoed in his head, a maddening loop. "The science fair can wait, Plankton," he whispered to himself, his voice taking on a rhythmic pattern. "Can wait, can wait..." Sponge Bob watched, his heart heavy with concern. He had never seen his friend like this, his usual confidence and scheming reduced to repetitive mumbles. "Plankton," he ventured cautiously, placing a spongy hand on his shoulder. Plankton's eye snapped to his, the loop breaking for a brief moment. "Sponge Bob," he murmured, his voice still weak. Sponge Bob's heart leaped with hope. "Yes, Plankton, I'm here," he said gently. But Plankton's gaze was distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. "Wellbeing is important," he murmured again, the words coming out in a staccato rhythm, his mind locked in the grip of echolalia. Karen's heart clenched with fear. This wasn't just disorientation from his injury. This was something more. "Sponge Bob," she whispered urgently. "I think he's in shock." Sponge Bob nodded, his face a mask of concern. "I'll get some water," he said, rushing to the sink. He filled a glass and hurried back, careful not to spill a drop. Plankton's eye followed the glass, his gaze unfocused. He began to rock back and forth slightly. Karen noticed the change in his behavior, her concern deepening. "Here, drink some water," she urged, offering the glass to his shaking hand. Plankton took it without a word, his motions mechanical. He brought the glass to his lips, but his hand trembled so badly that water sloshed out, spilling down. The moment the cool liquid hit the floor, a strange look passed over his face. It was as if he had seen a ghost, his single eye going wide with alarm. "The water," he stammered, his voice shaking. Karen's heart sank as she watched her husband's distress. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothed. "It's just water..." But Plankton's eye were glued to the spilled water, his entire body trembling. "It's... it's not right," he muttered, his voice filled with a childlike fear. Karen looked confused, the spilled water seemingly a minor issue. “Plank…” “It’s not right!” Plankton’s voice was urgent now, his trembling hand gesturing at the spill. His mind was a whirlwind of disturbing thoughts, each more distressing than the last. Sponge Bob and Karen exchanged worried glances. “What do you mean, Plankton?” Sponge Bob asked, kneeling beside the couch, his eyes full of concern. Plankton's breathing grew rapid, his chest heaving. "The... the... water," he stuttered, pointing at the puddle. "It's too... too... much!" Karen's gaze flitted to the floor, then back to her husband. "It's okay," she soothed, her voice quaking with fear. "It's just a little spill." But Plankton's agitation only grew. He flung the glass aside, the remaining water splattering against the wall. "No!" he shouted, his voice high and desperate. "Too much!" Karen and Sponge Bob watched in horror as Plankton collapsed into a sobbing mess, his tiny body wracked with tremors. His hands fluttered in his face, his breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. The room grew claustrophobic, the air thick with his panic. "It's okay," Karen whispered, her voice shaking. "It's just water, Plankton." But his anguished cries only grew louder. Sponge Bob's heart ached as he watched his friend fall apart before his eyes. Plankton's behavior was unlike anything he had ever seen, his usual cunning replaced with a raw, overwhelming fear. The room grew smaller as Plankton's sobs filled the space, his body convulsing with the intensity of his breakdown. Karen looked at Sponge Bob, her expression a mix of despair and determination. They both knew they had to calm him down, but how? Sponge Bob took a deep breath, trying to think. "Plankton," he said softly, his voice a gentle coax. "Look at me, buddy. It's just a spill. It's okay." Plankton's cries grew louder, his body shaking uncontrollably. Karen wrapped her arms around him, trying to soothe the storm raging inside his mind. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured, her voice barely audible over his cries. Sponge Bob's heart was in his throat as he watched his friend's breakdown. Plankton was not his usual self. The usually scheming, sneaky scientist was reduced to a quivering mess, his sobs echoing off the walls of the tiny Chum Bucket. His face was a mask of fear and confusion, his single eye wide with panic. "Plankton, please," Karen begged, her voice trembling. "You're scaring me." She scans his brain. The results were not what she expected. The blow from Mr. Krabs had caused more damage than she could have imagined. The injury had altered his brain chemistry in a way that was both profound and irreversible. Plankton had developed a rare condition called acquired autism, a disorder that could occur after a severe head trauma. It was a cruel twist of fate for a man whose life had been consumed by the desire for the Krabby Patty formula. The realization hit Karen like a tidal wave, knocking the wind out of her. Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered the diagnosis to Sponge Bob and Plankton. His expression mirrored her shock and sadness. Sponge Bob sat silent for a moment, his usually cheerful face contorted with sympathy and concern. "What do we do?" he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you clean the mess?” Karen asks him. He nodded solemnly, his movements slow and deliberate as he stood up to mop the spilled water. As he worked, he couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow for his friend. Plankton had always been the troublemaker, the one who pushed boundaries. But now, his world was shattered. The silence in the room was only broken by Plankton's sobs and the swish of the mop. Sponge Bob's heart felt heavy as he cleaned up the water, his thoughts racing. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. His best friend, his rival, his... his family. Plankton had always been there, through thick and thin, and now he was... different. And yet, that’s ok.
⚖️👩🏻‍⚖️🗼
lidocaine ointment that can apply beforehand?
Karen had always loved her husband Plankton. His mind was a bastion of order in a world that often seemed too noisy and chaotic for him. Plankton had a way of seeing patterns and connections that she never could. He'd spend hours meticulously categorizing his collections. It was his way of making sense of the world, a comforting rhythm she learned to appreciate. But today was one of those days where Plankton's brain seemed to betray him. It was a silent, unassuming morning until Plankton froze. His eye glazes over, and his body stiffened like a plank. Karen's heart skipped a beat, knowing all too well what was happening. Her mind raced as she quickly took action. She guided him to the safe spot they'd designated for these moments, a corner padded with cushions and devoid of sharp edges. His body began to convulse, a symphony of uncontrolled movements that didn't match the calmness of the surroundings. She felt her own heart race, her palms sweating, but she knew she had to be his rock, his anchor. Suddenly his friend Sponge Bob came in; he's never seen nor heard of Plankton like this before. "What's happening to him?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice quivering with concern. Karen took a deep breath. "He has autistic seizures," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's like his brain gets overwhelmed with stimuli, and it just... short-circuits." SpongeBob's eyes widened beyond belief, taking in the scene before him. Plankton's tiny frame jerked and tremored. It was a stark contrast to the precise, orderly Plankton he knew. "Is he okay?" Sponge Bob stammered, his hands waving in the air, unsure what to do. "Just stay calm," Karen instructed, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "These usually pass quickly. I need to make sure he doesn't hurt himself." She moved swiftly, carefully placing pillows under his head. Sponge Bob nodded, his concern growing as he watched his friend suffer. He wished he could do something, anything to help. "Can I talk to him?" he asked tentatively, his thumbs tucked into his pants, fidgeting. "It's better to let him be," Karen advised gently. "He can't process much during this. But once it's over, you can." When Plankton's convulsions finally ceased, his body limp, and his eye flutters closed. Karen checked his pulse, sighing in relief when she found it steady and strong. She looked up at Sponge Bob, her expression a mix of worry and fatigue. "Just be there for him when he wakes up," Karen said. "He'll be disoriented. He might not understand what happened." Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for Plankton, trapped in his own mind during these episodes. As Karen tended to Plankton, Sponge Bob felt a surge of curiosity. With a newfound determination, Sponge Bob turned to Karen, his eyes brimming with hope. "Could he maybe like... can he understand me now?" Karen looked at Plankton, still twitching, but clearly drained. She nodded slowly. "He can hear you. Just keep it simple and soothing." Sponge Bob approached cautiously, his eyes fixed on his friend. He knelt down and took Plankton's hand in his spongy grip. "Plankton," he whispered, "It's me, Sponge Bob. You're safe now." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, a hint of recognition flickering across his face. Karen offered Sponge Bob a small, grateful smile. She knew how much Plankton valued his friendship. Sponge Bob cleared his throat, his words gentle and measured. "Remember when we played catch with jellyfish?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're the best at catching them, Plankton. Your reflexes are so fast, it's like you're a jellyfish ninja." Karen smiles. Plankton's eye is open, but unfocused, as if looking through Sponge Bob instead of at him. His pupil is dilated, and his gaze is distant. Sponge Bob's heart swells with a mix of hope and concern. "Plankton?" he calls again, a little louder this time. No response, just the slightest twitch. He's there, but not really. Karen watches closely, a silent guardian making sure her husband doesn't slip back into the chaos that had consumed him. The room feels eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual symphony of sounds that filled their lives. Karen's eyes are filled with love and fear, a potent mix that's all too familiar. She's seen this before, Plankton's mind retreating into itself when the world becomes too much. Sponge Bob squeezes Plankton's hand, trying to ground him in reality, but his friend's hand is cold and limp. "You know, Plankton," he starts again, his voice quivering slightly, "you're like a tiny superhero with a giant brain. Nothing gets past you." Then, as if a switch was flipped, Plankton's body starts to jerk again, but this time, the movements aren't the violent convulsions of a seizure. They're smaller, faster - tics. His head tilts quickly. Karen's eyes narrow slightly as she recognizes the signs. This was a common aftermath of his seizures, his brain's way of recalibrating itself. "It's okay," she soothes, her voice a gentle melody that pierced through the tension. "Just ride it out." Karen's eyes never leave his, her gaze a silent promise of protection and patience. She knew these tics were a part of his autism, a way for his body to cope with the overwhelming input. It was as if the world was too loud for him, and his body had found its own rhythm to try to drown out the noise. The tics grew more frequent, his head jerking in quick, spasmodic movements. Sponge Bob's grip tightens on his hand, his own heart racing. He didn't understand what was happening, but he knew his friend needed him now more than ever. Karen's voice remained soothing, a constant in the storm of Plankton's neurological maelstrom. "It's okay," she said softly. "Let it happen." Sponge Bob watched, his eyes wide with concern. He'd never seen his friend like this before. The tics grew in intensity, Plankton's head snapping to a nod, his limbs twitching erratically. It was like watching a tiny, trapped bird, desperately trying to find its way out of a cage made of its own nervous system. "It's okay," Karen repeated, her voice a beacon of calm in the chaos. "These are just his tics. They're part of his autism. It's his brain's way of adjusting after a seizure." Sponge Bob nodded, trying to absorb the information. He'd known Plankton for years but had never known or seen him like this. Then Plankton's eye focused on Sponge Bob. A flicker of recognition sparked in the depths. "Sp...Sponge Bob?" he stuttered, his voice weak and tremulous. Sponge Bob's smile grew wider, relieved to hear his friend's voice. "Hey, buddy," he said. Plankton's head continued to twitch in a nodding motion, his eye blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on Sponge Bob's face. The tics were less intense now, but they were still present, a subtle reminder of the storm that had raged within him moments ago. Karen knew that this was the part where he'd start to come back to them. Karen explained, "The tics can last for a bit, but he'll be back to normal soon." Sponge Bob nodded, his grip on Plankton's hand steadying as he watched his friend's eye refocus. He didn't understand it, but he knew Plankton needed time. As the tics began to subside, Plankton's hand squeezed Sponge Bob's in weak acknowledgment. Sponge Bob felt a wave of relief crash over him. "I'm here," he murmured, his voice quiet and reassuring. Plankton's breathing grew more even, his body finally relaxing. The twitches gradually slowed until they were barely noticeable. It was like watching a tightly wound clockwork toy slowly unwinding. Karen reached over to stroke Plankton's arm, her touch feather-light. "You're going to be okay," she said. (my search NeuroFabulous)
Anonymous asked: autism culture is feeling like a nuisance when you’re overstimulated because you don’t want to be mean to anyone or have a meltdown but you can’t keep masking and everything is too much
Anonymous asked: Undiagnosed autism culture is your family can't comprehend that you are also autistic because you have a family member that was diagnosed as a child and has different support needs than you.
ᴮᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵀᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ “ᴼʰ ᵖᵒᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ “ᔆᵘʳᵉ ʷᵉ’ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵂᵉ’ᵛᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ‧ ᔆᵒ ʸᵉˢ, ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜʰᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ‧” “ᴹᵒᵐᵐʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ…” “ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ? ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵒ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ, ⁿᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ‧” ᴴᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢ ˢᵒⁿ‧ “ᴸⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ, ᵃⁿ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᶜʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ’ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ “ᵂʰᵃ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ, ᶠᵒʳ ‘ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵉˢ ˢᵃᵖⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱᵃᵉ’ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵒʷ…” “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ!” “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰⁱʳᵈ ᵐᵒˡᵃʳˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ…” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᴹᵘᵐ ʷⁱˡˡ ʰᵉ ᵇᵉ ʰᵘʳᵗ?” “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧‧” “ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!” “ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ, ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᴳᵒʳᵈᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉᵈ, ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇᵒᵗʰ‧ “ᴴᵒʷ ⁱˢ ʰᵉ?” “ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ, ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ ᴵ’ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ‧ “ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ?” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢʰᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ʲᵘᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴸᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ, ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ “ᵂᵉ’ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ‧” ᴬˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ’ˢ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴼᵖᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰᵉᵈ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘʳʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵈʳᵉˢˢ‧ “ᴵ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʷᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ᵇᵒᵗʰ…” ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ‧ “ᴬˡˡ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ!” ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉᵒⁿ‧ “ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ…” “ᴳᵉⁿᵉ‽” ˢˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ, ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈˡʸ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᴼʰ ʰⁱ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵘⁿˢᵘʳᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ, ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵘⁿˢᵘʳᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵃˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ’ˢ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵃˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵐᵖᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ’ʳᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁿᵉʷ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ “ᴸᵉᵗ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧‧” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ‧ “ᴼᵖᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰⁱᵗᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵈ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴮⁱᵗᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ‧” ᔆʰᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ʲᵒᵇ!” ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ‧ “ᵂʰʸ?” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ᴾʳᵒᵘᵈ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ!” “ᴴᵘʰ?” ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ “ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵗ?” ᴴᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏˢ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵛ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉˢ ᵒʳ…” “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵗʰ ᵉˣᵗʳᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵃᵖ‧ “ᵂʰʸ’ˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ?” “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵒᵘʳ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵉⁿᵗˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵃʷ‧” ᔆʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ’ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ ˢᵒ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ?” “ᵂᵉˡˡ ʸᵉˢ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ⁱᵗ’ᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ’ᵈ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧‧” “ᔆᵒ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧‧” “ᴵ’ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ…” “ᔆᵒ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ, ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ʰᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ “ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ˢᵒ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵃᵖ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴸᵉˢˢ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ ‘ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ‧’ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵍᵍʸ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ, ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵍᵃᵍˢ‧ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ, ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵍʰᵘʳᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ!” ᔆʰᵉ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵍʰᵘʳᵗ‧ “ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ᴹˢ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ‧ “ᵂⁱˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ʷᵃˢʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ…” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵐᵘᵐ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ‧ “ᔆᵒ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ?” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˢʰʳᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ‧ “ᴴᵒᵖᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵃᵇˢᵒˡᵘᵗᵉˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ ‘ᴳᵉⁿᵉ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ‧‧” ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵖᵃʸ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ; ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ’ᵈ ᵇᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱᶠ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ’ˢ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ!” “ᴵ ᵃᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ, ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᴼˡᵈ ᴹᵃⁿ ᴶᵉⁿᵏⁱⁿˢ ᵗʳʸ ᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵘʳᵍᵉʳ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ!” “ʸᵉᵃ! ᴬⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ, ᵇᵒᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ, ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ!” ᵀʰᵉʸ ʰᵘᵍ, ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇʸ ᵐʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵐᵉ…” “ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ‧‧” ✧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟗𝟖𝟗
💗🦋✨🎀 ᡣ𐭩 ᥫ᭡. 𐙚 ᥫ᭡。 ᡣ𐭩
** ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᴬᵘᵗⁱˢᵗⁱᶜ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴬᵘᵗⁱˢᵐ ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᴬᴵ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐʸ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * One fateful afternoon, Plankton meandered along the beach, lost in thought, an unexpected event unfolded. A tennis match, played by tourists near by, sent stray balls hurtling towards him. A tennis ball struck him squarely on the head. As he stumbled to his feet, dizzy and disoriented, the world around him had changed. Plankton found himself struggling with simple tasks that once came so naturally. His job at the local bait shop grew increasingly difficult as he often forgot names. His social interactions grew strained, as he found it hard to read the subtle cues of conversation and often took things too literally. The doctor's diagnosis was clear: the impact had left him with a mild form of autism for life. Karen, ever the rock in their marriage, took the news with a mix of shock and determination. She knew this would be a journey of adaptation for both of them. She dedicated herself to helping Plankton navigate the new landscape of his reality. His mind, now more analytical and detail-oriented, sought patterns and understanding in the overwhelming information. It was as if he had developed an insatiable hunger for knowledge, and this soon dominated their dinner conversations. "Karen," he began, "I've been thinking about the diagnosis." They were at the kitchen table. She looked up from her plate. "We can just keep this between us, Sheldon." "Karen," Plankton insisted, "I think we need to consider what this means for the Chum Bucket." "The Chum Bucket will be fine. You're still you. Just with a different way of seeing the world. You're seeing patterns no one else does. Let's focus on how we can harness that instead of worrying about what you lost." The idea took root in Plankton's mind, growing into a newfound sense of purpose. If he couldn't outsmart Krabs in their usual cat-and-mouse game, perhaps he could out-pattern him. His mind raced with the possibilities, the wheels of his imagination spinning faster than ever before. "If I could see patterns where he doesn't, we could finally steal the Krabby Patty secret!" He began to fidget in his chair, his legs bouncing up and down, a silent metronome to his racing thought. "But what if Krabs finds out? You know how he is, Karen. If he gets even the slightest whiff of weakness, he'll be on us." Karen nodded solemnly. "But you're not weak, Plankton. You're just... different. And if he does we'll deal with it together like everything else." Her words resonated with him and a newfound resolve shone in his eye. "You're right," he murmured. "We'll turn this into an advantage." Plankton retreated to his lab, the cobwebs of doubt slowly giving way to a tangible plan. He pored over blueprints and formulae, his mind racing with thoughts with his newfound focus, a stark contrast to the days when he had flitted from one idea to the next without clear direction. He dissected every encounter with Krabs, searching for patterns in his rival's behavior. His mind was a whirlwind of calculations, predicting Krabs' every move, anticipating his countermoves, and preparing for the ultimate heist. His once cluttered lab now had a method to its madness. The floor was clear of scattered inventions, and his desk was organized into neat piles of notes. His thoughts were no longer scattered; they were sharp. Karen supported him, bringing him snacks and encouraging him to take breaks, for she knew that his mind was fully consumed by his mission. The day finally came when Plankton announced that he was ready to put his new skills to the test. "Karen," he said with a steely glint in his eye, "I'm going to the Krusty Krab." "But Plankton, You haven't been since before..." "It's time. I've figured out a pattern in Krabs' security. There's a blindspot during the lunch rush." Plankton set out. The restaurant bustled with the usual sea of patrons, a cacophony of noise that Plankton found both overwhelming and fascinating. He took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand, and slipped inside. Making his way to the back, he spotted the safe in Krabs' office. His new analytical mind dissected the room with ease, noting the routine of the employees, the subtle cues in their movements that pointed to the flow of customers, and the exact moment when the chaos of the lunch rush would hit its peak. Timing was everything, and Plankton knew the moment had arrived. He slipped into the office. The combination lock stared back at him, a silent sentinel to the secret he sought. His mind raced through the patterns he had observed in Krabs' behavior, the way he tapped his claw against the desk when nervous, the time he took to drink his tea, the exact moment when his gaze would flick to the safe when the topic of the Krabby Patty formula came up. Plankton took a deep breath, his eye tracing the dial as he dialed in the sequence. The clicks of the tumblers falling into place were the sweetest symphony he had ever heard. With trembling hands, he pulled the heavy door open, revealing the treasure trove with in. His eye fell upon the secret bottle, its contents a murky mystery that could change his life forever. His heart thudded in his chest, a drum roll to the crescendo of his plan. "Plankton!" boomed a voice. He whirled around to find Mr. Krabs, claws balled into fists. The room spun, and the noises of the restaurant outside grew distant. "What do you think you're doing?" Krabs demanded, his eyes bulging with rage. Plankton's brain scrambled for a lie, but his newfound honesty and directness took over. "I've come for the Krabby Patty secret." Mr. Krabs sneered, "You're insane, Plankton. You'll never understand the brilliance of me creation." "But I see patterns now, where I used to see only chaos.." Plankton trails off before he could reveal more. Mr. Krabs took a step closer. "What are you talking about? Patterns? I don't know what you're blabbering on about, but you're not leaving here with that!" He lunged, but Plankton was ready. Using his heightened senses and the patterns he had studied, Plankton sidestepped the attack with surprising grace. The Krabby Patty secret was in his grasp, but he knew to take it back to the Chum Bucket. He sprinted out of the office. The din of the restaurant faded into the background as he weaved through the kitchen, dodging flying spatulas and the frenetic dance of the cooks. The heat from the grills washed over him but he didn't flinch. His eye remained locked on the swinging doors to the alley outside. Karen was waiting for him. Without a word, she opened the hidden hatch that led back to the Chum Bucket. Plankton squeezed through, the warmth of the stolen secret a comforting weight. They descended into the dimly lit lab. Karen looked at him with a mix of amazement and pride. "You did it," she whispered. Plankton's chest heaved with the exertion of his escape. "Yes," he panted, "but Krabs knows I have it." Plankton carefully removed the paper from the bottle, his eye scanning the list. The words and numbers swam but he focused, his mind slicing through the jumble. The list was not in English, but a cryptic code that only Krabs could decipher. The symbols and letters danced in a maddening ballet, but he could feel the tide of understanding beginning to turn. His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle with a speed and precision that astonished even him. He turned to Karen. "It's a code based on the Fibonacci sequence!" "Fibonacci?" Plankton nodded fervently, his antennae waving with excitement. "It's a numerical sequence, Karen. One, one, two, three, five, eight... It appears in nature, in the spiral of a shell, the arrangement of leaves on a stem, the branching of trees. It's a pattern that's been used in everything from art to mathematics!" Karen's trying to make sense of the seemingly random strings of digits and letters. "But how? Nevermind, I hear Krabs breaking in!" Plankton began to recite the ingredients in their proper order, translating the code as he went. "Kelp powder, four... Tartar sauce, one... Mustard seeds, three... Onion powder, five!" The lab door crashed open and Mr. Krabs' furious red face filled the doorway. "Give it back, you tiny menace!" But Plankton was already several steps ahead. With lightning-quick reflexes, he transferred the information from the paper to his photographic memory, his mind now a fortress that contained the Krabby Patty's sacred recipe. Krabs snatched the paper with a snarl, his claw closing around it like a vice. He glared at Plankton, eyes alight with fury. "You think you're so clever don't you?" But Plankton remained silent. The code was in his mind now and no one could take that from him. He had outsmarted Krabs with his own patterns, using the very neurodivergence that had made him feel weak to gain the upper hand. Mr. Krabs looked from the paper to Plankton and back again with suspicion, his claw tightening around the seemingly worthless paper. "You think you've won?" he spat. "You'll never understand the genius behind me Krabby Patties!" With that, Mr. Krabs stormed out of the Chum Bucket with his usual sneer, the worthless paper clutched in his claw. Plankton watched him go, his heart racing. He had done it. He had bested Krabs. As the echo of the slammed door faded away, he turned to Karen, his eye alight with victory. "We've got it," he whispered, his voice quivering with excitement. "The Krabby Patty secret is ours."
🇮🇳Army 🇮🇳❌
℞☤ ✙✙✙✙✙✙✙☤💊✙☤☤☤☤☤☤☤☤☤☤☤☤⚕⚕⚕
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⡤ ⠀⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢟⣛⣩⣭⣶⣶⣿⡿⢟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⠿⣿⣶⣶⣭⣭⣛⣛⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣈⣉⣡⣤⣴⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣛⣭⣶⣿⡿⣫⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣄⠌⢻⣿⡟⠁⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⡻⣿⣶⣭⣝⡻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣤⣉⣁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢛⣫⣵⣶⣿⣿⣿⢟⣭⣾⡿⣫⣿⠏⠈⢛⣛⡛⠋⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠈⢛⣛⡛⠉⠘⣿⣿⣻⣿⣮⣛⢿⣿⣿⣷⣮⣭⣛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣫⣴⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⠏⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣳⣄⢸⣿⡇⣠⣶⣻⣿⣿⣷⣄⠘⣿⣿⣝⢿⣿⣷⣍⡻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠋⢉⣴⣿⣿⣿⠟⣵⣿⣿⠏⢰⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠛⢹⣿⡇⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣇⠘⢿⣿⣷⡙⢿⣿⣿⣶⣌⠉⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠉⢠⣾⣿⡿⠃⠀⢸⣿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣄⠉⠙⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣬⣟⣧⠴⣾⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣛⡿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣮⣍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⡿⠛⠑⣾⡏⠙⠻⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣿⣧⣤⣶⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢛⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣯⡛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⡿⠛⣿⡝⠻⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣷⣦⣿⣷⣾⢿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣽⣻⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⡿⣼⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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💊🥛❤️❤️‍🩹𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊
👩‍⚕️💚♥︎
💭🩺
🌿💊👩🏻‍⚕️
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡🍄🦋🌸♏️💗⋆⭒˚。⋆⋆⭒˚。⋆
❤️➕🐂
the ammount of bios ive used from this website <333 ㅤ 𓈒 ୭ৎ ᥴᥲ𝗍s ᥱyᥱs 𝅄 🪡 ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ㅤㅤ ۪ 𝅄 ꒰ 태형 ꒱ ۪ ݁ 𝟷𝟷 : 𝟷𝟷 ݁ ۪ ୧ 8𝟖𝟖𝟖ᯓ★⁴⁴⁴⩇⩇:⩇⩇𖦹𑁤
Report this person on roblox@7peht aka @3ftboy this person has been making fake accounts to harass people and copy them also going to NSFW roblox groups even though he's an 'age regressor'(¬_¬")
any total drama fans ?? my tt is txtally.jessiexo
Medizin ⚕️🖤⃝🤍DOCTORA🩺⚕️
S☤ℕ.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ˚ℝ☤ℕ👩🏻‍⚕️
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