Xister Emojis & Text

|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::| |:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::| | | | | |:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::| |:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::| OREO

Here are some idioms that use the word "chip": Chip on your shoulder An informal expression that means someone feels inferior or believes they've been treated unfairly. For example, "You will never make friends if you go around with a chip on your shoulder". Chip off the old block A person who resembles one parent in appearance or behavior. For example, "His son is just a chip off the old block". Chip in To contribute money, time, or advice to a cause or fund. For example, "Every member of the team chipped in to help pay for the coach's surgery". Cash in your chips To sell something, such as investments, to raise money. It can also be used as slang to mean to die. Bargaining chip Something that can be used to gain an advantage when trying to make a deal or an agreement. For example, "The workers used the threat of a strike as a bargaining chip in their negotiations". Blue chip A term that comes from poker, where chips used in gambling have different colors to represent different dollar amounts. A blue chip is typically the one with the highest value. call in (one's) chipscall in your chipscash (one's) chips incash incash in (one's) chipscash in chipscash in one's chipscash in your chipscheap as chipschipchip (away) at (something)chip and dipchip atchip awaychip buttychip inchip in for (something)chip in on (something)chip in with (something)chip in with (something) for (something)chip offchip off the old blockchip off the old block, achip on one's shoulderchip on one's shoulder, to have achip on shoulderchip shotchip upchipschips and dipchips are down, thechips with everythingcow chipcow chipsget a chip on (one's) shoulderhand in (one's) chipshas had its chipshave a chip on (one's) shoulderhave a chip on your shoulderhave had (one's) chipshave had your chipsin the chipsin the moneylet the chips fall (where they may)let the chips fall where they maymint chocolate chippass in (one's) chipspiss on (someone's) chipsput a chip on (one's) shoulderput all (of) (one's) chips on the tablespit chipsthe chips are downwhen the chips are down "All that and a bag of chips"---this phrase is usually a slam against someone who is conceited or arrogant. Perhaps the phrase originates in the concept of completeness; a meal complete with a "bag of chips".Aug 11, 2014

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🧽

K🧑🔣

🔤🐝

💀🧥🗑️

🛖💧🌾

⛪️🐝

🤖🪐🗺️

🌾🧑‍🏭

📛🐝

🏭🌾🫂

👩‍🦱🧊💪

🎰🪙

🌴🍌🪨

🍌🪨

☀️🪨

🚯

🧠💻⚙️

🧯

👨⬆️

🍫🤏

👂🤔"Kevin"?

🪙🔴🎲

🔳⚙️💨

💻🧠⚡️

🔳⚡️

⬛⬜⚙️

🎭🎬💰

💥🪲

🤖✈️🇽

🤸‍♀️🎭👑

🔺🔵

🔺🧀

🥔🍳🧂

🥔✨

☀️🟦🪨

📟⚡️🔢

🔳🔌⚙️

🌎💥🍪✨

🔳⚡️🔛

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⠀⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣶⠶⠿⠛⠛⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣧⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣾⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⣶⣿⡇⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡿⠷⠶⣶⣤⣤⣀⣀⡹⣷⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠻⠿⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⡉⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣧⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⢾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠟⠹⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠶⢦⣄⣠⣤⡤⠴⠶⠟⠋⠁⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡏⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠶⠞⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠲⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣼⡇⠀⢿⣶⣄⣤⣴⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⢟⣭⣶⣶⣽⣿⣄⠈⢿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢠⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⡷⠦⣿⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠈⠛⠶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡇⠀⠀⢻⣍⡛⠛⣹⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠳⢦⣤⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⡤⠶⠚⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣦⠀⠻⠿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⢉⣾⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠞⠛⢁⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⣿⠁⠀⠻⢿⣍⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠈⠻⠶⠦⠤⠶⠾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠾⠉⠙⠋⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⣰⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⡴⠶⠚⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣈⠉⣻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⣽⠛⠉⠉⠉⢉⣧⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⣩⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣄⠀⢠⡟⢀⡞⠛⠋⠉⣏⢣⡀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⠀⠀⢀⡿⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡶⠟⣿⢀⡿⠁⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⢧⡆⠹⢄⢸⡆⠀⠀⢀⣴⠿⢿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⡇⠀⠀⢺⠁⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣤⣤⠶⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⢹⡟⠁⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢻⠀⡸⠃⢻⣤⣾⠋⠁⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⡇⠀⠀⠸⣆⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠈⠁⠀⠘⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⣀⠙⠻⠿⢿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠻⣷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠻⢷⣶⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡴⠟⢻⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠻⠛⠻⠿⠿⠛⣿⠏⠉⠉⢡⣿⠿⣿⡗⠲⠶⠶⠶⢲⣶⠿⣿⠁⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⣠⣴⡿⠋⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠋⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠃⠀⠀⣿⣀⣠⣴⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠛⠟⠛⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢻

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 3 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Plankton's mouth feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, his tongue thick. He tries to form words. "Ma...ma..." he whispers, his voice a slur. Karen's eyes light up at the sound. "You're ok," she says, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "You had your teeth out. You might feel funny for a little while." He looks at Karen, his eye searching hers. "Wh...wh...whath?" he stammers, his speech jumbled. Karen leans closer, her smile reassuring. "Your wisdom teeth, Plankton. They took them out so you won't have any trouble with them later." But the words don't make sense to him, his brain still fuzzy from the anesthesia. He tries to speak again. "Wi...wis...wis..." he stammers. Karen nods. "Wisdom teeth," Karen repeats slowly. "They're out now. You're all done!" The words swirl in Plankton's head, not quite making sense. He feels his mouth, the cottony feeling replaced by the pressure of gauze. He giggles. "My moufs fweel funmy," he says, his words slurred. Karen laughs softly. "It's because of the surgery, sweetie. Your mouth is healing." She coos. "I fink I sownd funny," he says, his eye glinting with mirth. The nurse returns, checking his vitals. "How are you feeling?" she asks. Plankton looks up, his eye glassy. "Wibidy wobidy," he slurs, his speech a mess of sounds and syllables. Karen can't help but laugh, despite the situation. "You're doing great," she says with love for his confused silliness. The nurse chuckles, too. "It's the anesthesia," she explains. "It'll wear off soon." His gaze darts to his own fingers. "Wook at my fingews," he says to Karen, his speech slurred from the anesthesia. Karen nods, smiling. "Oh yeah?" Plankton nods, his cognitive abilities still under the fog. "Yeth," he slurs, trying to sit up. "Take it easy," she says. "You're still woozy." The room feels like it's spinning as Plankton tries to sit up, his brain struggling to keep up with his body's movements. "Wha...?" he mumbles, his gaze unfocused. But Plankton's curiosity wins out. He reaches up to touch a finger to his mouth, feeling the thickness of the gauze. "Fingews," he repeats, his voice still slurred. Karen laughs with affection. "It's ok honey," she says. "You're doing great." Plankton looks around the room, his eye still unfocused. "Wheh...wheah awe we?" he mumbles. The nurse explains patiently, "You're in the recovery room at the dentist's office. You just had your wisdom teeth removed." But the words don't quite register, and he nods slowly, his mind racing with confusion and curiosity with wonder, taking in the world as if seeing it for the first time. The colors, the shapes, the sounds—everything is fresh and new. He looks at his hands as if it's an alien appendage. "Wook ath dis," he says to Karen, his voice a mix of amazement and bewilderment. His fingers spread wide, then close into a fist, then open again. "Wook whath I can do!" Karen swells with love. It's like watching him discover the world anew, like a baby seeing his own hands for the first time. She can't help but smile at his innocent fascination. The nurse nods at Karen. "You can take him home now. Just make sure he rests and takes it easy." Karen nods, her smile never leaving her screen. She helps Plankton up. "Hi," he says, his voice a slurred mumble. As they make their way to the car, Plankton's steps are unsteady, his body still fighting the remnants of the anesthesia. He looks around with wonderment, as if seeing the world in a new light. "Mowah?" he asks, pointing to the sky. Karen laughs gently. "It's the sun, honey. It's ok." Plankton nods, his mind trying to piece together the puzzle of his reality. "We're gonna pick up Chip from the park. He's with Hanna.." "Chip...Chip, Chip," he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue. The car ride is a blur of sounds and sensations that Plankton tries to filter out. He leans his head against the cool window, watching the world pass by in a haze. Karen keeps glancing back at him in the rearview mirror, amusement etched on her face. "You ok?" she asks. Plankton nods, his eye heavy. "Tiwed," he murmurs. "Try not to fall asleep," she says. "Because we're almost there." His eye drifts to the passing scenery. Trees whiz by. He counts the telephone poles, his slurred voice mumbling the numbers. "One, two, free, four..." "Almost there," Karen says. Plankton nods, his hand finding the seatbelt buckle, tracing its edges. "Five, sis, seb..." But alas, Plankton's efforts to stay alert are in vain. His lid flutters and his head nods. "Plankton, keep your eye open," Karen says, her voice a gentle reminder. But his body has other plans, succumbing to the sedative's embrace. "Wake up, Plankton," Karen says, a hint of laughter in her tone. She knows he can't help it. His slumber is deep, his snores a soft echo in the car. She watches him in the mirror, his face relaxed in sleep. It's a rare sight. Plankton's normally alert and active demeanor is replaced by a peaceful stillness that fills the car. The surgery was a success, yet the anesthesia has taken its toll. Karen pulls into the parking lot of the park, the sun casting a warm glow. "Wakey, wakey," she sings. Plankton's snores hitch, but his eye stays shut. She opens the car door and the chilly air fills the car, carrying with it the laughter of children playing. "Plankton," she calls, her voice gentle but firm. He stirs, his body protesting the interruption. "Chip?" he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. Karen laughs softly. "Yes, we're here to get Chip. Time to wake up." She reaches over and squeezes his hand. His eye blinks open, the pupil dilating as he takes in his surroundings. "Wha...?" he mumbles, his brain still fighting the anesthesia. Hanna and Chip look up as their car approaches. "What happened?" Chip asks as he gets in the car. Karen starts to answer, but Plankton's slurred interjection stops her. "Dey hook my teefs!" he says, his words a jumble. Chip's eyes widen. "He had his wisdom teeth out," Karen explains. Hanna looks at Plankton, her expression one of concern. "How are you feeling?" she asks. "Wibidy wobidy," he slurs. "Buh I dunno." Karen smiles. "So, we went to the dentist," she says, waving bye to Hanna. "They had to take his wisdom teeth out." Chip looks confused. "What does that mean, Mom?" He asks Karen. "Well Chip, your dad had some teeth that were gonna cause problems, so they took them out," Karen starts. "But the medicine they gave him makes him feel funny. It's like when you have a sleepover and wake up groggy." Chip nods. "What medicine?" He continues. Plankton tries to answer, but his speech is still slurred. "Dey gabe me sumpin' to sleep," he mumbles, his eye half-closed. "It's called anesthesia," Karen says, her voice calm and steady. "It's what helps people not feel pain during surgery." Chip nods, watching his dad with a mix of curiosity and concern. "But it makes him a bit loopy," Karen adds as they pull away. "Chip," Plankton starts. "Whath thad?" "It's my hand, Dad," Chip answers, confused. "Chip's hamv?" Plankton persists, his mind still fuzzy. Karen chuckles, seeing his curiosity piqued. "Chip's hamv?" Plankton repeats, his speech still slurred. Chip holds up his hand. "It's just a hand, Dad," he says. Karen laughs. "It's his hand, Plankton. It's ok. You're just a bit loopy." "Wook ath the clows," Plankton says, lazily pointing at the clouds. Karen smiles. "They're just clouds," she says. Plankton giggles, his eye glazed with a childlike wonder. Karen knows this phase won't last, but she cherishes it.

⡆⠀⠀⠙⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠾⠋⠉⣀⡴⠞⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⣰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠆⢀⡜⠁⣀⡴⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣆⠀⠀⠈⠀⠰⠀⣀⣴⡾⠏⠁⣀⡴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠆⢠⣮⣠⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠋⣀⣴⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠀⠟⠉⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣷⡒⠀⠀⠀⠹⢾⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⠶⠶⠚⠉⠉⠉⠛⠶⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣁⣤⡴⠶⠒⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⠶⠞⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠶⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⣠⡾⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣟⣡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⡤⠤⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠳⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⡸⢫⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⣴⣿⣭⣾⣿⣿⣷⣦⣍⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣄⣰⠛⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⣃⣴⠟⣩⣤⣤⣤⣌⠛⣦⡹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⡟⣡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠘⡇⠻⣧⡀⠀⠀⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠤⠖⠋⢹⡿⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠈⠙⠳⢤⣿⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢰⡏⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠴⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⢹⣄⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢰⡿⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠞⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠹⣦⣉⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⣁⣴⠿⠁⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣷⣿⣆⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⣴⠟⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠿⣆⠀⠀⠉⠛⠒⠒⠒⠒⠚⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣆⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠙⠳⠦⣭⣉⣩⠶⠿⠉⠀⣶⠞⠉⣿⠀⠀⠹⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⠙⢳⡶⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠋⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⡤⠶⠶⠒⠋⠉⠉⠉⠛⠶⢦⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⣦⡀⠀ ⢦⣴⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡤⠶⠶⠚⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠛⠓⠲⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠾⠿⣆ ⣶⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⠶⠶⠶⣶⠶⠶⠾⢷⣦⣀⣀⣀⣴⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼ ⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⡿ ⣏⣀⣤⣤⣤⠶⠖⠛⠛⠋⠹⣇⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣄⣀⣤⣤⡤⠴⠖⠚⠛⠋⢻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⠁⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡄⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⣠⣤⡤⠴⠶⠛⢛⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣛⡁⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⠏⣸⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠙⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⠟⠋⠛⠛⠛⠻⠿⢿ ⣟⣣⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡟⡀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⢀⣴⡿⣻⣿⣿⠃⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡼⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⣾⠃⢀⣤⡾⠋⣼⣿⣿⡟⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣦⡀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⡿⠿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⢺⣿⡀⠀⠻⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠙⢿⣄⠀⠀⣼⠃⡇⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣷⣤⡀⠀⢠⣾⣿ ⣧⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣤⡟⠈⠁⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣧⡂⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⡶⠾⠿⠿⠛⠻⢿⣶⣿⠏⠙ ⠁⠈⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠓⠶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡋⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣾⡏⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀ ⠀⠀⢀⣀⣴⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣏⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⠀⣀⣠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⠿⠋⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⣿⡆⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣀⠸⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⠟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡶⢶⣶⣶⣴⣶⣶⠶⠿⣿⡟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⠁⢸⣧⡴⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢷⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣇⠀⠈⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⡤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢹⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣴⣿⠶⠞⠛⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡇⠈⠉⠻⣿⡷⠶⠶⠶⠶⠴⠆⠀⠀⢸⣿⢀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣾⠋⠉⠉⠁⠛⠷⢦⣀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠇⠀⣀⣤⣶⣿⡟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢩⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢷⣦⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⠛⠋⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⢸⣿⣶⡿⠟⠉⢠⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⢶⣶⣤⣤⣿⠀⠀⠘⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠙⠫⠽⠶⢶⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⣸⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣿⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣠⠀⠀⢠⣤⠀⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⣿⠿⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⣿⠀⠀⢸⣹⠀⢸⡇⢀⣠⠴⣺⡙⢦⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡶⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⣷⣦⣄⡀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣤⡀⠀⠀⣾⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠘⢿⠿⠟⠛⠉⢹⣿⣿⡇⠈⣿⣄⠀⣼⡽⠀⢸⣿⠹⣌⡳⢥⡛⣴⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⢀⣠⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣾⡏⠉⠛⠛⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⣄⣻⡇⠙⠿⣦⣤⣀⣿⠃⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠈⠒⠛⠚⢁⣠⣾⡿⡱⢎⡵⢣⠳⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣻⣧⣦⣤⣤⣿⡟⠃⠀⠾⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⡛⠛⢛⠛⠛⢛⡙⠉⠋⢹⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⡇⠀⣀⡤⢖⠾⣙⢆⣿⡷⣙⠮⣜⢣⢏⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡲⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠄⠘⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠃⠀⡼⠁⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠉⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣜⣁⣠⣎⣀⣠⣮⣤⣤⣤⣾⣿⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⢫⡕⢮⡙⢮⡱⢎⣿⡷⣩⠞⣬⢓⣾⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡱⢣⢞⣩⢛⠖⡦⣤⠔⠊⣁⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢠⠿⠶⣾⠷⠶⣾⠷⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⣻⠛⢛⡿⠉⢩⡿⠉⠉⠉⠉⣿⠋⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⢎⡵⢊⢧⡙⡦⣝⢺⣿⣙⢦⡛⣴⣫⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡱⣋⠶⣡⢏⡾⠋⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠊⠀⠐⠇⠀⠰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠚⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠀⠀⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⡯⣎⠼⣩⢖⡹⢲⡍⢾⣿⣜⣦⣿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡱⣍⠶⣱⠋⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡇⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⣬⢓⣿⣌⢳⢣⠞⣿⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣗⡬⣹⠁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠹⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡇⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⣀⣰⣿⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡱⢎⣳⡿⣌⢧⣋⢾⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⡇⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢹⡻⡿⣿⣶⣤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⣶⣛⣡⣤⣶⣿⠿⣿⡟⠉⢠⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢛⣿⣿⣿⢳⡙⣮⣿⡗⣎⠶⣩⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡴⠀⠀⠀⠁⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⡿⠿⢿⡿⠛⠛⠛⠿⠿⣶⣶⣦⣤⣤⣤⣀⣈⣙⣛⣋⣠⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⢛⠿⣙⠧⣎⣳⣿⠀⠀⠘⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⢏⢧⣹⡿⣿⣟⣼⣾⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣻⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⣰⣿⠻⠿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣟⣛⡛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣛⠭⣟⢿⣿⠉⠛⠻⠿⣷⣭⣞⣰⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣶⣿⢿⣛⢯⢚⣶⡿⠁⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣋⣤⣶⣾⣟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣔⣾⣿⣿⡷⢌⡳⣬⣿⣿⣯⡱⢫⡜⡳⢜⣾⡿⣷⣦⣄⡀⠈⠙⠻⣿⣯⣴⣶⣾⡿⢿⡛⣏⢳⣌⣷⣼⣾⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠁⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡋⣿⡇⠸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⠿⣟⢫⡍⠿⣿⣷⣼⣥⣻⣿⢳⡱⣋⡿⢿⣦⡀⣼⣟⣯⣝⣵⣮⣼⣷⣿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⠀⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⠛⢯⡥⢛⡬⣓⡜⡳⢦⢭⣿⣿⣿⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⢻⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠘⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠙⠳⠶⠓⠚⠋⠉⣸⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠹⣧⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 17 The next morning Plankton groaned awake, anesthesia for his wisdom teeth having worn off during the night. He's in his bed, by Karen's. "Karen?" he mumbled. His antennae twitch as he looked around, trying to recall the previous day. Karen stirred beside him, her eyes opening sleepily. "You okay?" she asked, concern etching her face. Plankton nodded, his movements slow. "Mouth hurts," he whispered, his voice hoarse. Karen's smile was filled with sympathy. "It's normal, sweetie," she soothed, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. "The surgery was yesterday. It'll take a few days for it to feel better." Plankton's antennae twitched as he tried to sit up. The pain was sharp, a reminder of his ordeal. Karen knew his autism would make him impatient, knowing his sensory sensitivities. "Do you need anything, sweetie?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton was always particular, but now, his needs were magnified. He shrugged. "Not right now," he murmured. Chip knocked softly on the door, his heart racing. He hadn't seen his dad since last night. "Hey, Dad," he whispered, stepping into the room. Plankton's eye widened slightly, his antennas quivering. "Chip?" he said. Chip nodded, his expression tentative. "How are you feeling?" Plankton's antennae twitched. "Mouth hurts," he mumbled. "But I'm okay." Chip nodded, his eyes searching his dad's. "Do you...do you rememb-" Plankton's eye darted to the side, his antennae quivering. "I...I remember," he said, his voice strained. "The de-" "Dentist," Chip finished for him, his voice gentle. Plankton nodded, his gaze flicking to Chip's face. "Yeah, the dentist." He paused, his antennae stilling. "It was scary." "But I mean, what all do you recall from yesterday, Dad?" Plankton's antennae drooped slightly as he searched his mind. "I...I remember the chair, the lights," he murmured, his voice faint. "And the...the...uh, the mask." His voice grew smaller. "And then... I felt myself waking up. Anything else after that I... I'm not sure; hopefully I've done nothing foolish.." Karen's eyes filled with understanding. "You were groggy, sweetie. It's normal. You didn't do anything weird." Plankton's eye searched hers. "I...I talked to you, right?" Karen nodded. "Yes, you talked to me." Plankton's antennae twitched. "And Chip?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "You talked to him too," Karen assured him. Chip stepped closer to the bed, his eyes on his dad's face. "You talked to me, Dad," he said softly. "You were just a bit out of it, but we ta—" Plankton's antennae shot up. "What do you mean I was out of it?" Karen sighed, her eyes soft. "You were a bit confused, darling," she explained gently. "The anesthesia can make people say things they might not usually say." Plankton's eye widened. "What things; Chip? What made you to believe I was out of it?" Chip's cheeks flushed, but he knew this was an important moment for his dad to understand. "Well," he began, "you talked about wanting pudding, and you held my ha-" Plankton's antennae shot up. "I did WHAT?" he interrupted, his voice sharp with alarm. "I held your hand?" Chip nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah, Dad, you asked if you could hold my hand, I guess looking for com--" "I did no such thing!" His face flushed with embarrassment. Karen's eyes filled with concern. "Plankton, it's okay. It was just the medicine. It was just because you were so tired and needed comfort." Plankton's antennae drooped with embarrassment in front of Chip. Chip knew his dad valued his dignity highly and his autism made social interactions difficult. He took a deep breath. "Dad, it's okay. It's just that you were really tired and the medicine made you say some things you might not have meant." Plankton looked up. "I kno— I said stuff? What stuff? What'd all I do?" Karen stepped in, her voice calm. "You just talked about being tired, and asked for pudding. That's all." Plankton's antennae twitched in relief. "Oh. Okay." He lay back, his breath evening out. "So I didn't look or ac-" "You were adorable," Chip interrupted, trying to lighten the mood. Plankton's eye narrowed, his antennae still. "What?" he asked, his voice skeptical. "I was what? How so, Chip?" Chip shrugged, his smile genuine. "In the car, you fell aslee—" "Chip," Karen warned, interrupting him. She knew his intentions were good, but she also knew that Plankton could become easily upset by perceived patronizing. But Plankton's always been stubborn. "No, no; Chip, how'd you know if I was asleep?" Chip stumbled, trying to explain without causing distress. "You, uh, your snores were...uh..." Plankton's antennae perked up, his eye focusing on Chip. "WHAT?" he asked. Karen chuckled. "Yes, dear, you snore. But it's nothing to be embarrassed about." Plankton's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. "I do not!" he protested. "You must have heard the engine, or something?" Chip couldn't help but laugh, his eyes sparkling. "No, Dad, it was definitely you." Karen's eyes crinkled with amusement. "It's just your snoring, Plankton," she said. "It's cute, and I've heard it numerous times before." Chip just grinned, unable to hold back his laughter any longer. Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye looking between the two of them. "Cute?" he murmured, his voice filled with doubt. Karen nodded, her smile warm. "Yes, cute," Chip told him. "It's just a part of who you are, like your stims.." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly at the word 'stims'. He knew about stimming, the way his body moved when he was nervous or overwhelmed. But to hear it from Chip, to know his son was still thinking of it, was mortifying. Chip, noticing his dad's discomfort, quickly changed the subject. "So, how about that chocolate pudding?" he chuckled, trying to ease tension. But Plankton's attitude remained. Karen, ever the mediator, stepped in. "You know what, let's give each other some space," she suggested, looking at Chip. She knew Plankton's limits and can tell when he's overwhelmed. Chip nodded, his laughter dying down. "Okay," he murmured, stepping back. Plankton's antennae twitched as he lay there. His hand began to move in small, repetitive circles. It was a stim, something he did when restless. "Why did I ask for pudding?" he whispered to himself, his voice tiny. "Why did I hold his hand?" His antennae quivered with the weight of his thoughts. He had always been particular about personal space, so the idea of holding Chip's hand was both confusing and disconcerting. "It was the medicine," he murmured. "Just the medicine. That's right. Just the medicine. It's just me, Plankton. I'm ok. Just a bit...different." He paused, his antennae still. "But I'm ok." "Dad," Chip said softly. Plankton's antennas shot up at the sound, his stimming hand freezing. He turned his head, his eye finding Chip's face. "What is it?" he asked, his voice sharp. Chip approached the bed, his gaze on his dad's hand, still mid-motion. Plankton's antennae twitched in irritation. "Is that a stim, Dad?" Chip said, trying to keep his tone neutral. "You know, like when you bounce your leg or I ta-" "I know what a stim is," Plankton snapped, his antennae waving in annoyance. "Why do you keep bringing it up?" Chip took a step back, his face falling. "I just...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye narrowing. "No," he murmured. "It's...it's because my mouth hurts." Chip nodded, his gaze focused. "But that's not all of it, is i---" Plankton's hand abruptly stopped moving, his antennae straightening. "What do you know, Chip?" he asked, his voice defensive. Karen could see the hurt in Chip's expression, but she knew this was a boundary Plankton needed to set.

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 1 Chip dragged his bag through the doorway. Adopted at birth by his parents Karen and Plankton, his bus from camp came earlier than originally planned. Chip's thus not expected to be home from another hour yet he's home. His parents weren't in the living room, so he crept to the bedroom of his parents to see a peculiar sight. Plankton only allowed Karen to know about his neurodisability. He sometimes gets harmless nonepileptic seizures due to his autism. He's having one when Chip came home but neither he nor Karen noticed their son's arrival. Chip's heart pounded in his chest as he peered into their bedroom. Plankton was lying on the bed, eye open, his body stiff. Karen was at his side. "It's okay, it's okay," Karen murmured, stroking his arm gently. Her voice was soothing, a stark contrast to the chaotic silence of the seizure. Then Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. It was a sign that the seizure was passing. Karen recognized this phase as the postictal period, where her husband's mind was trying to reboot. Plankton's eye flickered, his speech slurred and incoherent. "Wha... wawl... bibble," he mumbled, his face a mask of confusion. Chip felt his breath catch in his throat, unsure of what he was witnessing. This wasn't the Plankton he knew—his dad was always sharp and quick-witted. The contrast was jarring, and his heart ached for the man struggling to regain his composure. Karen nodded gently, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "You're safe, my love," Karen whispered. "It's alright." Chip's curiosity grew as he listened to his father's disjointed words. "Wish... bof... not enough," Plankton said, his voice strained. Karen squeezed his hand. "Shh, Plankton, you're home," she soothed, cooing. "What's he talking about?" Chip thought to himself, his confusion swelling. He had never seen his dad like this. This was his dad, the strong, clever Plankton he knew, now so vulnerable and lost. Plankton's eye searches the ceiling as if trying to find answers there. Chip's curiosity morphed into concern. He had always known his dad was different, but this was new. "Bof... bibble," Plankton repeated, his eye still dazed. Chip's mind raced, trying to piece together what his father's nonsensical words could mean. "Don't worry, you'll feel better soon," Karen says. Plankton's babbling grew more childlike. "Bibble-bobble... more... choxie," Plankton said with a weak smile, his voice slurred like a toddler's. Karen chuckled softly, her hand still resting on his arm. "Choxie?" she questioned, gently. "Do you want any thi—" Before she could finish, Plankton chuckled, drool sliding down his chin. "Eeeeee?" Karen wiped it away with a tissue, her gaze filled with a mix of tenderness and understanding, knowing Plankton's state was temporary. "Choxie?" Chip whispered to himself, his curiosity piqued. He'd never heard his dad talk like this before. It was almost as if Plankton was speaking in another language—a child's babble filled with longing and innocence. Karen leaned in, listening intently to his garbled speech. Her eyes searched Plankton's face for any hint of recognition or meaning. "Kay... more... love," Plankton murmured, his eye fluttering closed. Karen's heart tightened, but she kept her voice steady. "More love?" she asked, interpreting his words with care. "I love you too, Plankton." Plankton's smile grew slightly, his antennae twitching in contentment. It seemed as if his garbled words were a request for comfort, and his wife's gentle voice has sufficed. Chip watched from the shadows, his mind racing with questions. His dad, usually so sharp and in control, was reduced to this. He noticed the way Karen's face softened as she spoke, how she treated Plankton like he was the most important being in the world. It was clear that this wasn't the first time she'd seen him like this, but the sight was still heartbreakingly new to Chip. "Gibble... gibble," Plankton continued, his body starting to relax as the seizure's aftermath ebbed away. His hands began to fidget, as if trying to grasp at the air. Chip's chest tightened, watching his dad so helpless. Plankton's antennae waved. "Wibble... wobble... waddle," he managed to say, his speech still slurred but slightly more coherent as Karen helps him sit up. Plankton's body felt heavy and awkward in her arms, but she managed to get him into a sitting position. He looked at her with a mix of relief and exhaustion. "Wobble?" Karen questioned, trying to decode his speech. "Do you want one of your sensory fidget toys?" Plankton's antennae twitched erratically as his speech grew slightly more coherent. "Bibble... bobble," he said, looking around the room with a child-like curiosity. Chip felt his own curiosity building, watching the scene unfold with a mix of concern and fascination. "Fibble... wibble," Plankton tried again, his words still jumbled. Karen nodded encouragingly, handing him a sensory fidget toy from the nightstand. It was a small, colorful object with various textures and shapes. As his hand closed around it, his eye lit up with recognition. "Wibble!" he exclaimed, his grip tightening on the toy. He began to fiddle with it, his movements becoming more precise. "Fibble... fibble," he murmured, his voice gaining strength. Karen watched him with relief, knowing that his recovery was underway. But Chip remained in the doorway, his eyes glued to his father's face. "Dibble-dibble... wobble-wobble," Plankton mumbled to himself, his fingers tracing the toy's intricate patterns. His voice was still not quite right, but it was a step closer to the clever and crafty man they knew. Karen watched with a soft smile, her eyes reflecting the warmth of her love for her husband. "You're coming back to us," she whispered. Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye slowly focusing on his wife's face. He blinked a few times. "K-Karen?" Her smile grew wider. "Yes, love, it's me," she said, her voice brimming with love and relief. He looked around, taking in his surroundings with a confused gaze. "Wha?" he finally managed to say, his voice still shaky. "You're home," Karen said, smiling as she held his hand. "You had a seizure, but you're okay now."

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 3 Plankton notices the shift in Chip's expression and his own face falls. He's been so scared of this moment, of being seen as less than. He's always tried to keep his stims under wraps, to appear as 'normal' as possible. But now it's all out in the open, and he can't hide anymore. Karen reaches for Plankton's hand, squeezing it gently. "It's okay, love. You don't have to be afraid. Chip's smart, he'll understand." She looks back at Chip, her eyes pleading. "Remember what we talked about, Chip. Your dad's stimming is his way of coping with the world, and it's something that makes him feel safe and comfortable. Yet we need to understand that when he's doing it, it's his personal time. It's just not for us to intrude on. Because for him, it's like a secret conversation he's having with himself." Chip nods slowly, his eyes flicking from his dad's face to his mom's, trying to digest the new reality that's being laid out before him. Plankton takes a deep, shuddering breath, his rocking coming to a stop. Karen stands up, walking over to Plankton, and kisses him on the cheek. "Why don't you go wash up, sweetie?" she suggests gently. "I'll talk to Chip." Plankton nods, his expression a mix of relief and fear. He slides out of bed, his legs shaky, and heads to the bathroom. The moment the door clicks shut, Karen turns to Chip, her eyes filled with a quiet determination. "You see, Chip," she starts, her voice softer now, "Your dad's stimming is like his private conversation with his brain. Sometimes, he'll start saying random things, talking to himself, working through his thoughts and feelings. So when you commented on it, it was like you interrupted a conversation he was having to himself, which can be upsetting." Chip nods, his eyes following the path his dad took to the bathroom. "But what if he's hurt?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "How do we know if it's okay?" Karen sighs, her expression softening. "That's a good question, Chip. We just need to be observant. If he's happy or upset, his stims might be different. And if he ever looks like he's in pain, or if he's distressed, that's when we step in, but first ask." She takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the next part of their conversation. "But it's also important to remember that even though we can't always understand what he's feeling or why he stims, it's his way of dealing with the world. So we need to be respectful, and not make him feel weird or uncomfortable." Chip nods, his gaze still on the bathroom door. "I don't want to make him feel bad," he says, his voice sincere. Karen sits back down beside him, her arm wrapping around his shoulders. "We know" she assures him. "You're a good kid, Chip. You'll learn to read him better than anyone else." As Plankton emerges from the bathroom, his face is washed clean, but the fear lingers in his eye. He sits back down on the edge of the bed, his posture rigid. Karen looks at him with love and patience, waiting for him to speak. "Chip," she starts, her voice careful. "You know how everyone has their own ways of dealing with stuff, right?" Chip nods, his gaze flipping between his parents. "Well, your dad's brain works a bit differently than ours. Sometimes, he needs to do things like rocking or making sounds to help him think and feel better. He may even repeat words or phrases, which is called echolalia. It's all part of his autism, and it's his way of navigating through the world." Karen's eyes are filled with a mixture of love and hope as she speaks. "These are his stims, and they're very personal to him. It's like his own secret language, a way to communicate with himself. So when you see him doing these things, it's important to remember that he's not doing it for show, or for attention. It's his brain's way of talking to him, of keeping him calm." Plankton nods slowly, his eye dull with the weight of his secret now out in the open. "And sometimes," Karen adds, "I've seen him come out of seizures while talking to his brain." "Seizures?" Chip asks, his voice laced with fear. Plankton winces at the word, but Karen nods. "They're not like the seizures you might think of, sweetie. They're a part of his autism. It's like his brain's way of restarting, of reorganizing itself when things get too much." Plankton finally speaks up, his voice shaky. "I don't like it when you saw me like that Chip," he admits. "Now I'm... exposed. So just GO AHEAD AND STARE." He throws his hands up in a dramatic gesture, his sarcasm clear. Chip flinches, feeling a pang of guilt. Karen puts a gentle hand on Plankton's knee. "Chip wasn't staring, sweetie. He was just trying to understand." She turns to Chip. "It's okay to be curious, but remember, Dad's stims are like his personal bubble. They help him feel safe when the world is too loud or confusing. So unless he's really upset or in pain, we respect that space." Chip nods, feeling a mix of understanding and awkwardness. He's never thought about his dad's quirks as being part of something so... significant. "Okay," he says, his voice small. "I'll try not to stare or interrupt." Karen smiles warmly at him. "That's all we ask, buddy. Just love him the way you always have. And if you have any questions, you can always come to us. We're a team, and we're all here for each other."

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 16 "Wha...whath time ith it?" Plankton asked, his speech still thick. Karen glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "It's almost noon, sweetie," she said, her voice steady. "We're going to get you home, and you can take a nice, long nap." Plankton nodded, his eye half-closed. "Nan?" he repeated, the word almost a question. Karen nodded. "Yes, nap. And then we can make you something soft and yummy to eat." The mention of food seemed to rouse him slightly, his antennae perking up. "Puddink?" he mumbled. Karen laughed again. "Yes, sweetie, pudding." "Whewe...whath..." he slurred, his head rolling slightly. Karen chuckled. "You're so tired, aren't you?" Plankton nodded, his eye half-closed. "Home," he murmured. "Wan' home. Karen wiww make puddink?" "Yes, sweetie, we're going home," Karen said, her voice filled with warmth. "And can make pudding for you." She squeezed his hand. "Do you want chocolate or vanilla?" Plankton's antennae twitched as he thought. "Chocowate," he mumbled, his speech still slow. Chip watched his dad, his heart aching at the childlike way he spoke. It was both endearing and heart- wrenching, a stark reminder of the toll the anesthesia and surgery had taken on him. "Chocowate," Plankton repeated, his voice slurred. "Pwease." Karen nodded, her smile gentle. "Of course, sweetie," she soothed. "Chocolate pudding it is." Karen finally parked in their driveway. "We're home," she said softly, turning to face Plankton. His antennas twitched at the mention of home, his eye fighting to stay open. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly. "Come on," she coaxed, "Let's get you inside." Chip also followed them in. In the living room, Plankton stumbled to the couch, his stuffed animal still clutched in his arm. He looked around, his expression lost. "Bathwom?" he slurred. "No, Plankton," Karen laughed, helping him lay down. "You're home." Plankton's eye widened. "Chip?" he slurred. His son smiled, his own anxieties easing slightly. "Yeah, Dad, it's me." He approached the couch, his movements deliberate and slow. "Ith's sho bwight," Plankton whispered, his gaze flickering around the room. The normalcy of their home was overwhelming in his current state. Karen understood, her eyes filled with compassion. "Let's get you comfortable," she said, helping him adjust his pillows. "Do you need anything?" He looked at her with his one eye, so full of trust and confusion. "I needff Karen and-a Chip." Karen's heart melted at his words. "You have us," she whispered, brushing his forehead. "We're right here." Plankton nodded, his antennae finally still. "Thath's goob," he murmured. "Thath's vewy goob. Can Chip...can Chip thee me?" Chip's eyes widened slightly, his throat tight. He took a step closer to the couch. "Yeah, Dad, I'm here." Plankton's gaze found his son's, his antennae still droopy. "Tawk to me," he slurred. "Chip wanth tawk to me?" Chip nodded. "Of course, Dad." He took a seat next to him, his heart heavy. He wasn't used to seeing his dad so open, so... talkative. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he looked to Chip's voice, his mind still groggy from the surgery. "Wha...whath's wrong, Chip?" he mumbled, his words thick with the remnants of the anesthesia. Chip took a deep breath. "Nothing's wrong, Dad," he said softly. "I just want to be here with you." Plankton's antennae wobbled as he processed his son's words. "Wiww you thtay?" he asked, his eye half-closed. Karen watched from the kitchen, her eyes filled with love and concern. She knew his confusion was temporary, but it still tugged at her heartstrings. Chip nodded, his voice gentle. "Yeah, Dad, I'll stay." Plankton's antennae stilled. "Thath's good," he murmured. "Chip, can I... can I...hamv?" His voice was tiny, his one eye looking up at his son with hope. "Chip my hamg, hamv in youw hamv?" Chip felt a lump form in his throat. He knew that his dad was reaching out for comfort, seeking the safety of touch. Despite his initial shock, he nods. "Sure, Dad," he whispered, his voice thick. "You can have my hand." Plankton's antennae perked up slightly at the offer, his eye still half-closed. He reached over, his movements sluggish, and grasped Chip's hand with his own. Chip felt his dad's grip tighten, his thumb stroking the back of his hand gently. The simple touch was a stark contrast to the firm handshakes and stern demeanor his dad usually allowed. Plankton's voice was barely audible as he whispered, "Than' you, Chip." Chip swallowed hard, his throat tight. "It's okay, Dad," he murmured back. "I'm right here." Karen watched them from the kitchen, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. The sight of his dad, so dependent and confused, was hard for Chip to process. Yet, he felt a strange comfort in it, a bond forming between them that transcended the typical father- son dynamics. Plankton's eye grew heavy, his antennae drooping. "Sowwy," he mumbled. "Wan' go...go sleep. No moreth of touch." Chip nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. "It's okay, Dad," he said. "You just rest." He gently removed his hand, his eyes never leaving his father's face. Plankton's antennae twitched one last time before his eye closed, his breathing evening out. The plushie was clutched tightly to his chest, his hand lying open on the couch cushion. Karen watched him, her love for him so clear. "He's going to be okay," she assured Chip. "The medicine will wear off by tomorrow. Just give him some space and quiet." Chip nodded, his concern still etched in his features. Plankton was usually so sharp, so in control. Seeing him like this was unusual. Karen smiles. "Here," she whispered. "Let's clean his mouth." They gently removed the blood-soaked gauze, replacing it with a fresh one. Plankton's eye flipped open for a second, his antennae quivering. "Wha...?" he murmured, his voice still slurred. Karen smiled, her voice gentle. "It's okay, Plankton. Just a little clean up." Plankton nodded, his eye half-closed again. "Mm-hmm, jush a wiww cweam up." He parrots via echolalia, despite his slurred speech and droopy antennae. "Than' you," he murmured again, his voice tiny. "Wove you." Karen's heart squeezed at his words. "I love you too, sweetie," she said. "Now I'll help you to your bed, so you can sleep off the rest of any anesthesia." Karen supported him to his feet, his legs wobbly. Plankton stumbled slightly, his antennae twitching in confusion. "Bed," he slurred. "Bed." She guided him upstairs, his steps slow and unsteady. "Careful, sweetie," she said, her voice soothing. "Just a few more." Chip trailed behind them. As they reached the bed room, Karen helped him onto the bed. "Wha...wha's fis?" he mumbled. "It's our room, Plankton," Karen said, her voice gentle. "You need to rest now." Plankton's antennae twitched as he took in his surroundings, his gaze focusing on the familiar sight of his bed. "Oh," he murmured, his speech still slurred. "Bed." Karen helped him lay back, his body slumping into the softness. His stuffed animal was placed carefully beside him, his hand still wrapped around it. "Comfortable?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern. Plankton nodded, his antennae still. "Mm-hmm," he mumbled. "Go night."

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 19 The room grew quiet, the tension slowly dissipating. Karen moved to sit beside Plankton on the bed, her arm wrapped around him. "I'm sorry, Dad," Chip whispered, his voice shaky. He felt a heavy weight in his chest, knowing he had unintentionally hurt his dad. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his gaze focusing on the floor. He didn't respond to Chip, but his antenna twitched at the apology. After a moment of silence, Plankton's voice grew softer, his words barely above a whisper. "Why do I do this?" he murmured to himself, self-soothing, his voice echoing his thoughts. "It's just...it's just me, being me." Karen's grip on his shoulder tightened, her eyes filled with understanding. She knew his autism made certain situations unbearable, and that his stims were his way of navigating the overwhelming world around him. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispered. "You're okay." Chip watched, his eyes brimming with tears. He had witnessed his dad's pain, the flailing antennae and clenched fists, and felt a pang of regret. He had crossed a line without knowing it was there. Plankton's hand began to move again, the repetitive motion of his stim. It was a gentle rocking now, back and forth. His antennae had stilled, his gaze firmly on the floor. The room was thick with emotion, the air charged with the unspoken. Karen watched him, her heart aching. She knew that stimming was his way to self-soothe, to find calm in a world that often didn't make sense. She reached for his hand, her touch light and reassuring. "You're okay, Plankton," she murmured. "We're here for you." Chip stared at his dad, his heart racing. He had never seen him so upset, so lost. He took a step closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said softly. "I didn't mean to make yo-" Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye snapping to Chip's face. "Don't," he murmured. "Just don't." His voice was tight, his body still tense. Chip nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. He knew his dad needed space, but his heart was heavy with the desire to bridge the gap between them. He took a step back, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay." Karen looked at Chip, her face a mix of sadness and understanding. She knew that his intentions were pure, but his actions had unintentionally caused pain. "Chip," she began, "let's go to the kitchen and see what soft foods we have." Her voice was gentle, a clear sign that she wanted to give Plankton some space. Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his father's. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he watched them leave, the door closing softly behind them. In the kitchen, Chip hovered nearby, his hands fidgeting. "Mom," he began, his voice tentative. "I didn't mean to...to make him upset." Karen's eyes meet Chip's. "I know you didn't, sweetheart," she said, her voice gentle. "But your dad's autism can make things complicated." "It's just...I wanted to connect," Chip murmured. "I thought if I did what he does, he'd see that I get it." Karen's eyes searched his face, understanding etched deep in her gaze. "Chip," she said, her voice soft. "You can't experience the world the way your father does. His stims are his language, his way to deal with overstimulation. They're not for us to imitate." Chip nodded, his throat tight. "But I just want to make him feel better," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Karen sighed, her eyes meeting her son's. "I know you do," she said. "But you have to respect his boundaries, his way of dealing with things. It's not about you connecting or not connecting; it's about supporting him in the way he needs it." She paused, her gaze thoughtful. "Why don't you ask him how you can help?" Chip nodded slowly, his thoughts racing. He knew his mom was right, but it was so hard to see his dad in pain and not do anything. But he also knew that Plankton wasn't just his dad; he was an autistic individual with his own unique experiences and needs. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation to come. He returned to the bedroom, his eyes on the floor. "Dad?" Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "Can we talk?" Plankton's hand stopped stimming, his eye looking up at Chip. "What about?" he asked, his voice guarded. Chip took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Plankton's. "I'm sorry for mimicking your stim," he said, his voice quiet. "I didn't think how it made you feel, and I see now that it wa-" "Why'd you do it?" Plankton interrupted, his antennae stiff with tension. "What's so fascinating about it?" Chip swallowed, his hands shaking slightly. "I just...I wanted to help you," he managed to get out. "To know what it feels like for you, to share in-" "It's not for sharing!" Plankton's antennae shot up. "It's for ME!" The words echoed through the room, his voice tight. He turned onto his side facing away from Chip. But Chip didn't stop there. He approached the bed, his steps cautious, eyes on Plankton's tense back. Chip's hand hovered over his father's shoulder before he thought better of it. "Dad?" he said, his voice tentative. Plankton's body remained rigid his eye glazed over now. Chip's gaze landed on his father's unblinking eye. A sudden realization hit him like a wave. "Oh no," he murmured, his hand flying to his mouth. "It's a seizure, isn't it?" This was the first time he'd recognized one without being told, where Plankton just zones out for a bit. But now what? Plankton didn't respond, his body completely still except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. Chip's heart raced as he recalled his mom saying to tell her whenever he sees something like this. He bolted out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he called for his mom. "Mom! Mom, come quick!" His voice was laced with fear. Karen rushed in, her eyes wide with concern. She took one look at Plankton, his body unnaturally still, his eye unblinking, and she knew. "It's okay, Chip," she said, her voice calm despite the panic rising within her. "It's just a seizure. He'll be okay." Chip's eyes searched hers, desperate for reassurance. "But what do we do?" he asked, his voice shaking. Karen's hand found his, squeezing gently. "We wait," she murmured. "We stay with him, and we wait."

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 5 Karen saw the flicker in Plankton's eye that signaled his return to the present. She then motioned for Chip to back up. Plankton let go of the bear, his gaze flitting around the room as if searching. Karen wiped the drool from his chin. "Welcome back," she whispered, her voice calm and soothing. Plankton's eye met Karen's screen. "I'm here," she said, her own voice thick with relief. "You had another seizure, but it's over now." Plankton nodded slowly, his antennae drooping as he tried to piece together what had happened. The fog in his mind was lifting, but the weight of his emotions remained as he looked over to Chip. Chip's eyes met his, full of uncertainty. "Dad," he began, but his voice trailed off as Plankton's eye flickered with recognition. Chip's own eyes lit up with relief and hope. Plankton's antennae slowly raised, his gaze focusing on his wife and son. "I remember," Plankton said through gritted teeth. The memory of Chip's innocent yet hurtful word stung. "He said I was... 'slow'. He said it!" The anger in his voice was palpable, his antennae quivering with agitation. Karen's heart ached for her husband's pain, but she knew that anger was a part of his post-seizure frustration. She approached the bed, her voice calm but firm. "Plankton, Chip didn't mean it that way. He's scared and confused. He doesn't know how much that word can hurt." Plankton's antennae trembled with anger. "But it did!" he exclaimed. "It does!" His voice grew louder, no longer slurred. Karen's eyes searched his, understanding the pain he was feeling. "I know you're upset," she said gently, "but let's talk about thi—" "Talk?" Plankton spat, his body tensing with rage. "How can I talk to him after what he said?" The words echoed in his mind, a cruel reminder of his fears. Chip took a step back, his heart racing. He hadn't meant to cause such pain, but the look on his dad's face was unmistakable. He had hurt his hero, the one person he looked up to more than anyone else. "Dad, I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. "I really didn't kn-" But Plankton was beyond hearing apologies. His antennae were a blur with rage. "You think I'm 'slow'?" he roared, his voice echoing in the small room. "You think that's all I am?" His words were sharp as knives, cutting through the tension. Chip felt the sting of his father's anger, his screen filling with tears. "No, Dad, that's not what I mea-" But Plankton's rage was a force unto itself. "How dare you!" he yelled, his voice shaking the walls. "After everything I've done for you.." Tears spilled from his single eye, his antennae quivering uncontrollably. "How could you say that?" he sobbed, his voice breaking with pain. Chip's eyes were wide with shock and fear at the sight of his father's distress. He hadn't really seen Plankton cry before, and the raw emotion was overwhelming. Plankton's sobs were deep, his antennae shaking wildly as he wept into his pillow. Karen stood at the side of the bed, her heart breaking as she stroked his back. Chip watched, feeling his own eyes burn with tears. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice small. "I didn't know. I won't say it ever ag-" But Plankton didn't seem to hear him, lost in his own grief. His sobs grew louder, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Karen could see the hurt and fear reflected in her son's face, and she knew they had to get through this together. "Chip," she said gently, guiding him closer to his father. "Your dad needs love right now." She placed his hand on Plankton's back. "Tell him you love him." Chip took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly. "Dad," he began, his voice cracking. "I love you." Plankton's sobs continued, unabated but his antennae quivered slightly, as if acknowledging his son's presence. Karen watched as Chip sat on the edge of the bed, tentatively placing his hand on Plankton's back. "I'm sorry," Chip whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt yo-" But Plankton's sobs interrupted him, his body wracked with emotion. His antennae thrashed about, his crying a silent testament to the pain he felt. The room was suffused with his sorrow, a stark contrast to his usually stoic demeanor. Chip felt the weight of his father's grief, his own chest tightening as he watched the man he idolized break down. He had never seen his father so exposed, so vulnerable, and it frightened him. He swallowed hard, his throat thick with tears. "Dad," he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt-" But Plankton's sobs drowned out his words, his body convulsing with the force of his grief. Karen wrapped her arms around Chip, pulling him closer to her side. "Let him cry it out," she murmured. "He needs this." The room was filled with the sound of Plankton's sobs, each one a raw expression of the pain he felt. His antennae twitched erratically, as if trying to find a way to express the emotional thoughts inside his head. Chip sat there, frozen, his hand hovering over his father's back, unsure of what to do next. Karen watched them both, her own heart torn by the scene before her. She knew Plankton's autism made his emotions intense, and this misunderstanding had triggered a deep-seated fear of rejection. She also knew that Chip didn't intend to hurt his father—he was just a child, trying to understand a complex world. "Chip," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "It's ok. Just love him." She nodded towards Plankton. Chip took a deep breath, his hand shaking slightly. He slowly placed it on his father's back, feeling the warmth and tremble of his dad's shoulders. "I love you," Chip managed, his voice barely audible.

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 7 The room was silent, save for Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen could almost hear his thoughts racing, his mind a whirlwind of sensory input and emotions. She sat still, her eyes never leaving his form, her hand staying close but not touching. Chip hovered by the door, his hands clenched into fists. He wanted to help, to fix this, but his mom's words echoed in his mind: 'respect his space'. It was a concept that was hard to grasp, but he knew it was important. He watched as his dad's legs shook, his whole body a testament to the storm inside him. Karen's eyes never left Plankton's shaking form. Her heart broke for him, for the fear and frustration that she knew was churning within. She reached out a tentative hand, letting it hover just above his shoulder. "It's ok," she whispered. But Plankton flinched, his body stiffening at the uninvited contact as he turned his back to them, now facing the wall. She knew this look well, had seen it before. The room was suffocating with silence, the tension thick like a layer of fog. Chip felt his own anxiety rising, unsure of what to do. He'd never seen his dad like this, so... vulnerable. He took a tentative step forward, his hand reaching out. "Dad?" he asked softly. Plankton's spasms grew more erratic, his antennae quivering like leaves in a storm. He didn't look up, his breathing shallower with each passing second. It was as if he'd shrunk in on himself, retreating into his own world where no one could follow. Chip's heart ached, watching his dad's body convulse with silent sobs, his shoulders heaving as he tried to regain control. The room was a tableau of pain, each second stretching into an eternity. Karen sat with her back against the wall, her hand still hovering, but not daring to make contact again. Her eyes were filled with a blend of love and despair, the same look she'd worn so many times before when Plankton's autism had overwhelmed him. But Chip had never seen this side of his dad, had never known the depth of his struggle. Plankton's body was a maelstrom of movements, each spasm a silent cry for help. His antennae thrashed against the floor, his legs kicked out in a frantic dance. It was a sight that would have been terrifying to anyone who didn't understand, but Karen's eyes never left him, her expression calm and knowing. She'd seen this before, had held the line between panic and peace for her husband countless times. And then, through the chaos, a sound. Plankton's voice, barely above a murmur, speaking to himself. "My stims," he whispered, his hands moving in the air, mimicking his own motions. "They're just... they're just a part of it." The words seemed to hang there, suspended in the heavy silence of the room. Karen watched him, her heart breaking a little more with each word. She knew he was trying to make sense of it all, to reconcile his fear of being different with his need to be understood. Chip's eyes widened in surprise, his curiosity piqued by this unexpected moment of self-reflection from his dad. "They're just... they're just a part of it," Plankton murmured again, his voice a little louder this time. His antennae stilled, his body slowly uncoiling from the tight ball he'd curled into. Karen took this stimming as a sign that the storm is passing. "What's a part of it, Dad?" Chip asked, his voice tentative. Karen shot him a warning look, but Plankton didn't seem to hear. "My fidgets," Plankton said, his voice still barely above a whisper. "My autism... it is just part of it." His hand continued to mimic the movements, a silent conversation with himself. Chip's mind raced. "You're not to weird, Dad," Chip blurted out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them. Plankton's movements stilled, his antennae dropping to his side. He turned to look at Chip, his eye filled with something akin to surprise. "What did you say‽" Chip took a deep breath, his heart racing. "I said you're not weird, Dad," he repeated, his voice slightly stronger. "Your stims are just part of who you are." Plankton's expression turned angry, his body taut with tension. "Don't patronize me, boy!" Plankton snapped, his voice sharp as a knife. "I DON'T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!" His body was a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment. Chip felt a flare of anger in response, but swallowed it down. "Dad, I'm not," he said, his voice calm despite his own turmoil. "I'm just saying that I see you, all of you. And I love you. I don't think your stims are weird. They're just... you." Plankton's body remained tense. "STOP talking about it!" he yelled, his voice echoing off the walls. Chip took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. He'd never seen his dad like this. He didn't know how to fix it. "Dad, I-" he started to say, but Plankton cut him off. "I said stop!" Plankton's voice was a roar, his body trembling with anger and embarrassment. He didn't want Chip to see him like this, so vulnerable, so out of control. The room felt like it was closing in on him, the walls pressing against his skin. Karen's heart clenched at the raw pain in Plankton's voice. She knew this moment was about more than just his stims, it was about his fear of rejection, of being seen as less than. "Plankton, honey, look at me," she said gently, trying to cut through the maelstrom of his emotions. "Chip's just trying to understand. We all are." But Plankton's eye remained locked on the floor, his breaths quick and shallow. He felt like an exhibit in a museum, his private world laid bare for his son to see. The fear of rejection was a living, breathing entity in the room, wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket. He'd managed to hide his stims for so long, to keep that part of him hidden away. Now, it was out in the open, raw and exposed. Plankton's eye darted between Karen and Chip, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. He wanted to shrink away, to disappear into the cracks of the floorboards. But he knew he couldn't. Not now. Not when Chip kept looking at him with such confusion and concern. "Dad, I just-" Chip started again, his voice filled with earnestness. But Plankton couldn't take it. The words felt like a knife twisting in his gut. "I SAID, STOP!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the room. The sound was like a gunshot, and Chip's words died in his throat. Karen watched the exchange, her heart heavy with sadness. She knew Plankton's anger was a defense mechanism, his way of dealing with the overwhelming emotions that threatened to drown him. But seeing her son hurt by it was almost more than she could bare. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the storm. "Plankton," she said calmly, moving closer to him, her hand outstretched but not touching. "It's okay, sweetie. Chip's just trying to be here for you." But Plankton's eye was wild, his body a coil of tension. He was in full meltdown mode, and Karen knew better than to push him.

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 8 Chip took another step back, his own emotions a tangled mess. Guilt, fear, and confusion battled within him as he watched his dad's pain. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to make yo--" "I SAID STOP!" Plankton's voice was like a whip crack, slicing through the air with frustration. Chip flinched, the force of his dad's anger palpable. "Dad," he began, his voice shaking, "I just-" "JUST?" Plankton spat, his eye blazing. "You just don't get it, do you?" His words were sharp as knives, each one cutting deeper into the silence. "You think you can just... touch me, hug me, and it'll all be fine?" He sneered, his body trembling with the effort to control his emotions. "Well, it's not that simple, is it?" Chip's cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "I'm sorry," he said stiffly. "I didn't know it was such a big de-" "Don't tell me what I know, boy!" Plankton snapped. His voice was a whipcrack of sarcasm, each word a stinging rebuke. "I've been doing this dance my whole life, and now you think you can make me your little science project?" Chip's eyes filled with hurt, his hand dropping to his side. "That's not what I'm doing," he protested, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I just want to he--" "Want to help?" Plankton interrupted, his tone dripping with bitterness. "You think I need your help? Your pity?" His antennae twitched with anger. "I've managed just fine without you!" His voice was a storm, his words thunderous in the silence of the room. "So don't you dare act like you get to be part of this now!" Now Chip felt his own emotions flare up. "What the barnacles is your problem?" Chip snapped, his frustration boiling over. "You're always so... so sensitive. Can't I just show you that I love you without you throwing a fit? Don't you know that you're just being ridiculously over- dramatic? I can't have a father who's so autistic and so..." He trailed off, his eyes searching for the right word, and then it hit him; the slur is a term he'd heard use to describe someone acting unsmart, not knowing the impact it would have. The moment the insult left his lips, the room went cold. Karen gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Plankton's body went rigid, his antennae shooting straight up as if electrified. Chip felt a sinking feeling in his gut, like he'd just swallowed an anchor. He knew he'd crossed a line, but he didn't know where it was or how to get back. "Dad, I didn't mean-" "GET OUT!" Plankton roared. Chip had never seen his dad like this, his eye blazing with fury and hurt. He stumbled backwards, his heart racing as he tried to make sense of the horror on his dad's face. "I didn't know," he murmured, his voice small and lost. Karen's eyes were wide, her cheeks wet with tears. She'd heard the word, the one that cut deeper than any knife. The one that reduced her Plankton to a joke, a problem to be solved. "That's enough," she said, her voice firm but trembling. "You've hurt him enough, Chip." Chip's eyes were filled with shock, his mind reeling from his dad's reaction. He didn't mean to say it, didn't even know it was bad. "But I just..." He couldn't find the words. "I didn't know it was... I just wanted to tell him..." Karen's voice was firm, but underneath, Chip heard the sorrow. "Your dad's autism isn't something to be fixed," she said, wiping at her own tears. "It's part of who he is. And calling him that... it's like telling him that part of him isn't good enough." Plankton was still in his corner, his body taut with tension. Chip felt the weight of his mother's words, the gravity of his mistake. He'd hurt his dad, the one person he never wanted to cause pain. "I didn't mean it like that," he whispered. But Plankton was beyond words, his body trembling with rage. He'd been called that name before, by those who didn't understand, who didn't care. His antennae quivered with the effort to hold back the storm of emotions threatening to unleash. Karen stepped between them, her hand on Chip's shoulder. "Out," she said firmly, her voice a whip of authority. "Now." Chip didn't argue. He knew he'd done wrong, and he knew his place wasn't here right now. He turned and left the room, his heart heavy with regret. As the door clicked shut, the tension in the room didn't disappear. It grew thicker, like a fog that clung to their skin, suffocating them both. Karen sat next to Plankton, her hand hovering near his shoulder but not making contact. She knew better than to push, to force him to face his pain. Instead, she offered silent support, her presence a beacon of love in the storm. Plankton's body was a tight coil of anger and hurt as he rocked back and forth. "Plankton," Karen said softly, her hand still hovering. "I know we're upset, but Chip's just trying to understand. He didn't mean to be ableist." Her words were met with silence; she didn't push. The room felt like it was spinning around him, the words echoing in his head. He knew his son hadn't meant to wound him, but the sting was there all the same. "Why can't he just leave me alone?" Plankton whispered, his voice small and defeated. "Why does he have to make everything about him?" Karen's eyes filled with understanding. "It's not about him, Plankton," she said gently. "It's about love and connection. He just doesn't know how to give it in a way that doesn't overwhelm you." Her hand touched his shoulder lightly, and he flinched. She withdrew it immediately, her heart aching. "I know, I know," he murmured, his voice tight. "But it hurts." Karen nodded, her own eyes brimming with tears. "I know it does," she said. "And I'm so sorry." Plankton leaned into her, his body still shaking. "Why can't he just get it?" he whispered, his antennae drooping. "Why does he have to make everything so hard?" Karen wrapped her arm around his shoulders, holding him close. "Because he loves you, Plankton. And he's scared of losing you." Plankton's body stiffened at her words. He knew she was right. Chip had always been like that, so eager to please, so desperate for attention. And Plankton had always been there for him, his rock in a stormy sea. But now, the tables had turned, and he didn't know how to navigate these uncharted waters of vulnerability. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae drooping. "I know," he murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I know he loves me." Karen's grip tightened around his shoulders. "Then we need to find a way to help him understand," she said, her voice a soft caress. "We need to show him that love doesn't have to be loud or overwhelming." They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing. Plankton's body began to relax, his tremors subsiding. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I just... I don't know how to do this." Karen leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "We'll do it together," she said. "One step at a time." Chip stood outside the door, his fist pressed against the wood. He could hear their muffled voices, the low tones of their conversation. He felt like a stranger in his own home, unsure of how to navigate the sudden shift in his relationship with his dad. His mind raced, trying to piece together what had gone wrong, how he'd missed the cues. He knew he'd hurt his dad, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just a misunderstanding. He didn't realize how the ableist slur he'd used had pierced Plankton's armor. He leaned his head against the door, his breaths coming in short, painful gasps. The weight of his ignorance was like an anchor, dragging him down. He'd always thought of his dad as... well, his dad. Strong, capable, a little quirky. But now, he saw the cracks in that facade, the raw vulnerability beneath the surface. He knew he had to apologize, but the fear of making it worse held him back.

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE (by NeuroFabulous) 𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚 Pt. 11 The nonsensical words spilled out. "Fizz-fizz-fizz..." Karen watched him, her heart in her throat. She knew this was part of the process, his brain recalibrating after a seizure. "D-daddy?" Chip's voice was tiny. "What's happening?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm herself enough to explain. "It's okay," she said, her voice shaky. "It's part of his autism. Sometimes, after a seizure, you dad's brain gets overwhelmed. He might say thi—" But Plankton's rambling cut her off. "Did? Might... m-m-mighty... mighty... no, not mighty... did!" He laughed to himself, his eye still unfocused. Karen knew that it was temporary, a side effect of the seizure. "Fizz-fizz-fish," Plankton says, his voice distant. Chip watched, his eyes full of fear and curiosity. He'd never seen his dad so vulnerable. Karen took his hand, her grip firm. "It's okay," she whispered. "His brain is just... reorganizing." Plankton began to steady. His eye focused on Karen's face, his voice a little clearer. "K-Karen?" Her heart skipped a beat. "I'm here, sweetie," she said, smiling through her tears. "You're ok." Plankton's antennae twitched as he slowly came back to his surroundings, the fear and anger of moments ago replaced by confusion and dizziness. Karen moved closer. "Dad, are you okay?" Chip's voice was tentative. Plankton's antennae moved in jerky, uncontrolled motions as he tried to make sense of his environment. "I... I think so," he murmured, his eye slowly focusing on his son. The room was a blur of colors, the sounds muffled and distant. He felt the weight of their stares, the unspoken apologies and fear. He knew what had happened, the searing memory of the slur, the painful reminder that he was different. Plankton's antennae twitched as his thoughts slowly coalesced, his mind fighting to find purchase in the chaos. "W-what... what happen'd?" he stuttered. Karen's eyes searched his, filled with a mix of love and apology. "You had a seizure, sweetie," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you remember what happened before?" Plankton's antennae quivered of emotion. The argument, the slur, the pain... it all came rushing back. He nodded, his eye dropping to the floor. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I remember." Karen's hand hovered over his shoulder, but she didn't dare touch him yet. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking. "For everything.." Plankton nods. He knew she meant it, yet the sting of her words still lingered, like a shadow that wouldn't leave his side. "It's okay," he said, his voice a weak echo. "I know you didn't... but it still hurts." His antennae drooped, a silent testament to his pain. "Yet I forgive you, Karen." Karen's eyes filled with tears. "I know," she said. Chip nods. "I'm sorry too, Da-" But Plankton cut him off, his antennae jerking with irritation. "Don't," he murmured. "Don't say YOU'RE sorry. YOU don't understand. You're not like your mother." Chip felt the sting of truth in his dad's words. He didn't understand. He'd always thought he knew Plankton, but now he realized there was a world of experience, of pain, that he'd been blind to. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice desperate. "How ca--" But Plankton was already getting to his feet, his body shaky. "You can't," he said, his voice tight. "You can't make this right with sorrys." Chip felt the weight of his dad's words. "But I want to," he whispered. "I don't know what to do, but I wa-" Plankton's antennae twitched with agitation. "You don't know what it's like," he snapped. "You've never had to live with this, with people thinking you're less because of it." The room felt colder, the air heavier with each sharp syllable. "You can't fix this, Chip." Chip felt so helpless, so utterly powerless in the face of his father's pain. "But I want to understand," he protested, his voice a whisper of hope. "I want to help. I mean, you forgave Mo-" "I forgave her because she understood!" Plankton's voice was a whipcrack of anger. "You think your sorry fixes it?" his antennae trembled with agitation. "It doesn't. And don't compare yourself to your mother. She knows me, understands me, advocates for me. But you're not her, Chip. You're not even close." Chip felt the blow, the truth cutting through him like a knife. He knew Plankton was right. He didn't know what it was like, to live with autism, to fight against a world that didn't understand. He'd been blind to his father's struggles, his ignorance a wall between them. "What do you want me to-" But Plankton was already turning away, his body a rigid line of anger. "I want you to leave me alone," he snapped. "I don't need your pity or your half-hearted apologies!" Chip felt his world crumbling, his hope for understanding and reconciliation shattered by the coldness in his father's voice. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes brimming with tears. "But Dad..." Plankton's antennae jerked sharply. "I said leave me alone!" The words were a whip crack in the air, slicing through the tension. Chip didn't know what to do, how to make it right. Karen stepped in. "Chip, maybe you should give him some space," she suggested, her eyes filled with pain. Chip nodded, his heart heavy with defeat. He didn't want to leave, but he knew his presence was only adding to Plankton's distress. "Okay," he murmured, his feet dragging across the floor.

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