Xix Emojis & Text

PLUSH ONE xix (By NeuroFabulous) Karen's eyes are on Hanna, a silent reprimand. Hanna's hand drops to her side, her screen filled with regret. "Plankton, I'm ju—" But it's too late. Plankton's body is wracked with sobs, his antennae thrashing as his fear overwhelms him. The plushie falls to the floor, abandoned in his desperate attempt to escape the horror Hanna's words have conjured. Karen's arms reach out to him. "No, no, no," she whispers. "You're safe, Plankton. Yo--" But his body is a wild storm of fear, his sobs escalating into convulsions. His antennae whip around, striking the air in a silent scream of terror. Karen's heart shatters as she watches, her own hands hovering, unsure how to comfort him without causing more harm. Hanna's eyes are wide with horror, her own sobs joining the cacophony. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice a desperate apology. "I di-" But Plankton's fear is a storm, his antennae a blur of panic. "Karen, make it stop," he cries, his voice a desperate plea. "Make it STOP͏!" The room seems to spin around him, his senses assaulted by Hanna's regret and his own fear. The plushie is forgotten, a discarded comfort in the face of the horror. Karen's gentle voice is a lifeline, a soft whisper in the chaos. "You're safe," she says, her voice a promise. "You're with me—" But Plankton's sobs only grow louder, his convulsions more pronounced. His tiny body is a crumpled mess on the floor, his autism a cage of panic he can't escape. "Make it stop," he cries, his voice a desperate wail. "Please, make it stop!" Hanna's eyes are filled with determination as she retrieves the plushie, carefully bringing it back to his trembling form. "Here," she whispers. "I---" But Plankton is a maelstrom, his body twitching beyond control. His eye rolls back in his head. Karen's heart races as she watches him seize, her mind racing. Her hands hover over him, knowing not to touch. Hanna's eyes are wide, tears streaming down her cheeks. "What's happening?" she sobs, her voice shaking. Karen's eyes are filled with fear as she watches his tiny body convulse, his sobs turning to silent screams. "It's a seizure," she whispers, her voice tight. Hanna's eyes widen, her hand dropping the plushie as if it's a live wire. "What do we do?" she asks, her voice high-pitched with panic. Karen's gaze is focused on Plankton's convulsing body. "Don't touch him," she says, her voice a command. "Just stay calm." She moves swiftly, getting a pillow and placing it under his head. Hanna's eyes are glued to his twitching form, her breath coming in gasps. "Is he going to be okay?" she whispers, her voice trembling. "Do we need to call..." But Karen's eyes are on Plankton, her movements swift and sure. "No," she murmurs, her voice a soft command. "It's overstimulation. We have to calm him down. It's part of his disability. An ambulance will just make it worse, by adding more noise and claustrophobia. Hospitalization will create unnecessary trauma." Hanna's eyes are wide with terror, her hands shaking as she watches Plankton's convulsions. "But he-" Karen's voice cuts through the chaos. "Trust me," she says, her gaze unwavering. "We need to calm him, not add more stress." Hanna nods, her eyes locked on Plankton's distress. "What do we do?" Karen's voice is calm. "Find a favorite blanket," she says, her eyes never leaving his twitching form. "And dim the lights, reduce the noise." Hanna's legs are a blur as she rushes to comply, grabbing the softest blanket. Her hands shake as she gently drapes it over him, his convulsions jolting against the fabric. Hanna's eyes are wide with panic as she watches, her voice a whisper. "Is he going to be okay?" Karen's gaze is unwavering on Plankton, her voice steady. "We need to stay calm," she says, her hands a gentle guide. "It's his autism, it's how he can react to stress." Hanna's eyes are on the floor, her breath shallow. "I'm sorry," she whispers, the weight of her words heavy. "I didn't kn-" But Karen's voice is steady. "It's okay," she says, her voice a calm reminder. "We're here." Her eyes are on Plankton, her body a wall of protection. "Let's help him." Together, they work to soothe him, Hanna's hands shaking as she follows Karen's calm instructions. They dim the lights, reduce the noise, and cover him in the warm embrace of his favorite blanket. Hanna gets the plushie and goes up to him. Plankton's body jerks under the blanket, his antennae still a blur of fear. Karen strokes his head gently, her eyes filled with a fierce determination to keep him safe. "Hey," Hanna says, holding out the plushie. "Do you want this?" Her voice is tentative. "Plankton, can you tell me w---" But Plankton's eye is squeezed shut, his body a writhing mess of limbs. The seizure is a silent scream, a desperate protest. Hanna's hand shakes as she holds out the plushie, her words a plea. "Plankton, it's okay," she whispers, her voice trembling. "You're not unwanted." Plankton's body continues to convulse, his antennae a blur of panic. Karen then turns to Hanna. "You need to let him breathe," Karen says, her voice a soft command. "We can only help him by letting his body do its thing. If you talk, make sure it's quiet and calm, short and sweet, and be truthful with your reassurances. Do not force anything on him." Hanna nods, tears streaming down her screen, her voice a whisper. "Okay." She watches as Karen's gentle touch soothes Plankton, his seizure beginning to subside as she rubs his back in slow, even strokes. The plushie is placed near his hand, a silent offer of comfort. The seizure gradually loosens its grip on Plankton's body, his sobs subsiding into hiccups. Plankton's eye finds Karen's, a silent plea for reassurance. Her voice is a soft caress. "It's okay," Karen whispers. "You're okay." Plankton's antennae twitch, his body slowly calming. He clutches the plushie, his eye on Karen. "Home," he whispers, his voice a desperate plea. "Yes," Karen says. "We're home, in our bedroom." Plankton's antennae still, his gaze searching for the familiar. Hanna backs away, her eyes filled with regret. Karen notices and nods slightly, a silent acknowledgment of Hanna's apology. His body relaxes further, his breathing slowing. The plushie is a warm comfort, but it's Karen's voice that holds his world together. "You're safe, Plankton," she whispers. "You're home." Hanna watches from her distance, her eyes filled with regret. Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze shifting to Hanna. Her eyes are filled with remorse, a silent apology that he can't quite decode. His mind is a jumble of fears and questions. "Hanna," he whispers, his voice a tremble. "I-I'm not a b-b-baby? Plankton stays living..." Hanna's face crumples, her sobs joining his. "Oh, Plankton," she whispers. "You're not a baby, you're Plankton. And you're not unwanted. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it." Karen's eyes are filled with compassion as she looks at Hanna, knowing the depth of her regret. "It's okay," she says softly. "It's new for all of us." She turns back to Plankton, her voice a gentle whisper. "You're safe here. We're all learning." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye focusing on Hanna's shaking form. His voice is a question. "Hanna?" Her voice cracks as she whispers back, "I'm here." Her hand reaches out tentatively, still afraid to touch him. "I'm so sorry for what I said." Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze flickering to her hand. "It's okay," he murmurs, his voice a shaky echo. "But...but it's not okay," he adds, his eye filling with confusion. Hanna's hand hovers, uncertain. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice a tremulous thread. Plankton's gaze is on the plushie, his voice a whispered confession. "I'm not the same," he says, his words a soft acknowledgment. "I'm...different." Hanna's hand stops, her eyes filled with understanding. "You're still Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "You're still the same person, yet you've some new aspects.." Plankton's antennae still, his eye searching hers. "Different," he whispers, his voice filled with the weight of his new reality. Hanna nods, her hand still outstretched. "But that doesn't make you less important," she says, her voice a soft promise. "Or less loved." Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze flickering between his plushie and Hanna's hand. He reaches out slowly, his hand trembling, and takes her hand, holding it for a moment before he takes his hand back. Hanna's eyes are wet with relief, her voice a whisper. "Thank you," she says. Plankton's antennae twitch in acknowledgment, his gaze still on the plushie. "It's...it's just...I'm still me," he says, his voice shaky. "But, things are... different, now." Hanna nods, her eyes filled with a newfound understanding. "I know," she whispers. Her hand moves towards him again, this time with more confidence. Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze shifting from the plushie to Hanna's hand. "I know," Hanna says, her voice a gentle whisper. "But you're still Plankton, and we're here for you." Her hand moves closer, a silent offer of friendship. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye flickering to her hand, then back to the plushie. "Home," he whispers again, his voice a tremble. Hanna nods, her eyes filled with a newfound respect for the complexity of his needs. "Home," she repeats, her voice a gentle echo. "You're home with your wife Karen. Would you like to hold my hand?" Plankton's antennae still, his gaze shifting to Karen. She nods, her eyes filled with a silent understanding. He reaches out tentatively, his tiny hand grasping Hanna's finger briefly before retreating. It's a small gesture, but it's a start. Hanna's eyes widen with hope, her voice a whisper. "Thank you," she says, her hand hovering in the air.

<(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 ⚫█▀█▄▄𓂸

I V X L C D M 1 5 10 50 100 500 1000 🔢 Individual decimal places Thousands Hundreds Tens Units 1 M C X I 2 MM CC XX II 3 MMM CCC XXX III 4 CD XL IV 5 D L V 6 DC LX VI 7 DCC LXX VII 8 DCCC LXXX VIII 9 CM XC IX

Smileys & Emotion Face Smiling 😀 Grinning Face 😃 Grinning Face With Big Eyes 😄 Grinning Face With Smiling Eyes 😁 Beaming Face With Smiling Eyes 😆 Grinning Squinting Face 😅 Grinning Face With Sweat 🤣 Rolling on the Floor Laughing 😂 Face With Tears of Joy 🙂 Slightly Smiling Face 🙃 Upside-Down Face 🫠 Melting Face 😉 Winking Face 😊 Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes 😇 Smiling Face With Halo 😘 Face Affection 🥰 Smiling Face With Hearts 😍 Smiling Face With Heart-Eyes 🤩 Star-Struck 😘 Face Blowing a Kiss 😗 Kissing Face ☺️ Smiling Face 😚 Kissing Face With Closed Eyes 😙 Kissing Face With Smiling Eyes 🥲 Smiling Face With Tear 😛 Face Tongue 😋 Face Savoring Food 😛 Face With Tongue 😜 Winking Face With Tongue 🤪 Zany Face 😝 Squinting Face With Tongue 🤑 Money-Mouth Face 🤭 Face Hand 🤗 Hugging Face 🤭 Face With Hand Over Mouth 🫢 Face With Open Eyes And Hand Over Mouth 🫣 Face With Peeking Eye 🤫 Shushing Face 🤔 Thinking Face 🫡 Saluting Face Ezoic 😑 Face Neutral Skeptical 🤐 Zipper-Mouth Face 🤨 Face With Raised Eyebrow 😐 Neutral Face 😑 Expressionless Face 😶 Face Without Mouth 🫥 Dotted Line Face 😶‍🌫️ Face in clouds 😏 Smirking Face 😒 Unamused Face 🙄 Face With Rolling Eyes 😬 Grimacing Face 😮‍💨 Face exhaling 🤥 Lying Face 🫨 Shaking Face 🙂‍↔️ Head Shaking Horizontally 🙂‍↕️ Head Shaking Vertically

What GENS are y’all? 🤨 Lost Gen – 1883-1900 😩 Greatest Gen – 1901-1927 👵🏽👴🏾 Silent Gen – 1928-1945 🤫 Baby Boomer Gen – 1946-1964 👩🏽‍🍼👶🏽👨🏾‍🍼 Gen X – 1965 - 1980 ❌ Millennial – 1981-1996 💎 Gen Z – 1997-2012 💤 Gen Alpha – 2013 - present 🎁

Every Lenny Face Known To Man ASCII art ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ᕤ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ -) ( ͡͡ ° ͜ ʖ ͡ °) ( ͡ ͡° ͡° ʖ ͡° ͡°) (ง ͠° ͟ ʖ ͡°)ง ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ °) (ʖ ͜° ͜ʖ) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ヽ༼ຈ ل ຈ༽ﾉ ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) { ͡• ͜ʖ ͡•} ( ͡° ͜V ͡°) ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^) ( ‾ʖ̫‾) ( ͡°╭ʖ╮ ͡° ) ᕦ( ͡°╭͜ʖ╮͡° )ᕤ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ) (ノ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ︵┻┻ (ლ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ ( ° ͜ʖ͡°)╭∩╮ ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆)╭∩╮ [̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง[̲̅$̲̅(̲̅5̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] ¯\_(⊙_ʖ⊙)_/¯ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡o) (͡• ͜ʖ ͡•) '̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴ ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ .....╚(███)╝ ......╚(██)╝ .........(█) (▀ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡°з ͡°) (⌐▀͡ ̯ʖ▀) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ – (͡◔ ͜ʖ ͡◔) ( ͡° ͜ ͡°) ( ͡ᶢ ͜ʖ ͡ᶢ) (͡• ͜໒ ͡• ) ( ͡ຈ ͜ʖ ͡ຈ) ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆) ( ͡ಠ ͜ʖ ͡ಠ) (つ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕤ (╯ຈل͜ຈ) ╯︵ ┻━┻ ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)═╝ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ ┬┴┬┴┤ ͜ʖ ͡°) ├┬┴┬┴ -( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)╯╲___ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━炎炎炎炎炎炎炎炎 (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ. * ･ ｡ﾟ, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) *:..｡o○( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)○o｡..:* ໒( . ͡° ͟ʖ ͡° . )७┌∩┐ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━✿✿✿✿✿✿ ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ° ͜ʖ ͡ – ✧ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ - ° ͜ʖ ͡ - ( ͡°〓 ͡°) ( ͡°👅 ͡°) _,,,_o( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)o_/''/_ ( ͡-_ʖ ͡-) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ) ( ͡ ͜ ʖ ͡ ) ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) (; ͡°_ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) (س ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)س ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) ( ͡° ʖ ̯ ͡°) ＜￣｀ヽ、　　　　　　　／￣＞ 　ゝ、　　＼　／⌒ヽ,ノ 　/´ 　　　ゝ、　`（ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ／ 　　 　　>　 　 　,ノ 　 　　　　　∠_,,,/´” . ▼￣＞-―-＜￣▼ 　　Ｙ　 Ｙ /\ / 　 ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡° ） ＼ ｜　 つ　 ヽつ ( ͡° .͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉) ░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄▄ ░░░█░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░▀▀▀▄░░░░▐█░░░░░░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░░▀█▄ ░░█░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░░▀░░░▐█░░░░░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░█▀ ░▐▌░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░░░░░░▐█▄▄░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░▐▌ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▄░░░▄█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░▐▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀███▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▐▌ ░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░░░░░▄▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ______ 　　　　　／＞　　フ 　　　　　| 　 ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° l 　 　　　／` ミ＿_ノ 　　 　 /　　　　　| 　　　 /　 ヽ　　 ﾉ 　 　 │　　|　|　| 　／￣|　　 |　|　| 　| (￣ヽ＿_ヽ_)__) 　＼二つ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ. ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)/ This is lenny. Copy and paste him so he can revive tired old memes. /▌ /\ 乁(✿ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)و (◉͜ʖ◉) (⌐▀͡ ̯ʖ▀) ╯︵ ┻─┻ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ╯︵ ┻─┻ (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵) デ╦-( ͡ಥʖ̯ಥ;)╯╲___ (☞⌐▀͡ ͜ʖ͡▀ )☞ ╾━╤デ╦︻(˙ ͜ʟ˙ ) ( ͡° ͜つ ͡°)╭∩╮ (▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)ﾉ ︵ ┻━┻' ヽ( ͝° ̯ʖ ͝°)ﾉ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ. * ・ ｡ﾟ Copypastus Totalus!! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ ( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°) ( ° ͜ ʖ °) (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง (ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง (\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ᕤ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ -) ( ͡͡ ° ͜ ʖ ͡ °) ( ͡ ͡° ͡° ʖ ͡° ͡°) (ง ͠° ͟ ʖ ͡°)ง ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ °) (ʖ ͜° ͜ʖ) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ヽ༼ຈ ل ຈ༽ﾉ ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) { ͡• ͜ʖ ͡•} ( ͡° ͜V ͡°) ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡) ( ‾ʖ̫‾) ( ͡°╭ʖ╮ ͡° ) ᕦ( ͡°╭͜ʖ╮͡° )ᕤ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ) (ノ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ︵┻┻ (ლ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ ( ° ͜ʖ͡°)╭∩╮ ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆)╭∩╮ [̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง[̲̅$̲̅(̲̅5̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] ¯_(⊙_ʖ⊙)/¯ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡o) (͡• ͜ʖ ͡•) '̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴ ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ .....╚(███)╝ ......╚(██)╝ .........(█) (▀ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡°з ͡°) (⌐▀͡ ̯ʖ▀) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ – (͡◔ ͜ʖ ͡◔) ( ͡° ͜ ͡°) ( ͡ᶢ ͜ʖ ͡ᶢ) (͡• ͜໒ ͡• ) ( ͡ຈ ͜ʖ ͡ຈ) ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆) ( ͡ಠ ͜ʖ ͡ಠ) (つ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕤ (╯ຈل͜ຈ) ╯︵ ┻━┻ ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)═╝ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ ┬┴┬┴┤ ͜ʖ ͡°) ├┬┴┬┴ -( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)╯╲__ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━炎炎炎炎炎炎炎炎 (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ. * ･ ｡ﾟ, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) :..｡o○( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)○o｡..: ໒( . ͡° ͟ʖ ͡° . )७┌∩┐ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━✿✿✿✿✿✿ ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ° ͜ʖ ͡ – ✧ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ - ° ͜ʖ ͡ - ( ͡°〓 ͡°) ( ͡°👅 ͡°) ,,,o( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)o/''/ ( ͡-ʖ ͡-) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ) ( ͡ ͜ ʖ ͡ ) ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) (; ͡°_ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) (س ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)س ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) ( ͡° ʖ ̯ ͡°) ＜￣｀ヽ、　　　　　　　／￣＞ 　ゝ、　　＼　／⌒ヽ,ノ 　/´ 　　　ゝ、　`（ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ／ 　　 　　>　 　 　,ノ 　 　　　　　∠,,,/´” . ▼￣＞-―-＜￣▼ 　　Ｙ　 Ｙ /\ / 　 ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡° ） ＼ ｜　 つ　 ヽつ ( ͡° .͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉) ░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄▄ ░░░█░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░▀▀▀▄░░░░▐█░░░░░░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░░▀█▄ ░░█░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░░▀░░░▐█░░░░░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░█▀ ░▐▌░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░░░░░░▐█▄▄░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░▐▌ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▄░░░▄█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░▐▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀███▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▐▌ ░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░░░░░▄▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ 　　　　　／＞　　フ 　　　　　| 　 ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° l 　 　　　／` ミ＿ノ 　　 　 /　　　　　| 　　　 /　 ヽ　　 ﾉ 　 　 │　　|　|　| 　／￣|　　 |　|　| 　| (￣ヽ＿ヽ)) 　＼二つ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ. ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿

AGE APPELLATIVE 10-19: denarian 20-29: vicenarian 30-39: tricenarian 40-49: quadragenarian 50-59: quinquagenarian 60-69: sexagenarian 70-79: septuagenarian 80-89: octogenarian 90-99: nonagenarian 100-109: centenarian 110-119: centeni denarian 120-129: centeni vicenarian 130-139: centeni tricenarian 140-149: centeni quadragenarian 150-159: centeni quinquagenarian 160-169: centeni sexagenarian 170-179: centeni septuagenarian 180-189: centeni octogenarian 190-199: centeni nonagenarian 200-209: ducenarian 210-219: duceni denarian 220-229: duceni tricenarian 230-239: duceni tricenarian 240-249: duceni quadragenarian 250-259: duceni quinquagenarian 260-269: duceni sexagenarian 270-279: duceni septuagenarian 280-289: duceni octogenarian 290-299: duceni nonagenarian 300-309: trecenarian 310 - 319: treceni denarian ... 400-409: quadringenarian 410-419: quadringeni denarian ... 500-509: quingenarian ... 600-609: sescenarian ... 700-709: septingenarian ... 800-809: octingenarian ... 900-909: nongenarian ... 980-989: nongeni octogenarian 990-999: nongeni nonagenarian 1000-1009: millenarian

Easypose (FREE) The proportions are very much anime but nothıng anatomy studies can’t fix!! Also love that its free and isnt subscription based. Lil warning though the asset library is very lımıted. there are DLCs but they’re not as detailed as what you’d see in Magic poser and/or Clip studio. But still the basic shapes still help a lot! Canva (Free & Paid Subscription) THE Graphic Design for͘ dummies!!! KRITA Krita is free software available for Windows, macOS, and Linux. Krita is free, open-source software that works for Windows, Mac, and Linux users. Like other sketching apps, it's pen-based but is especially useful for creating comic art with premade panels. Krita supports animation functions, including audio, and comes with premade templates. If you want to get the most out of this free program, you can import textures from third-party sources. You can choose to us̀e Krita for free, but you can also pay͘ for premium options via Steam and the Microsoft Store. The paid version includes the same features, but it provides automatic updates and support. There’s also a mobile Krita app in beta, so keep an eye out for more information if you like to work̀ on the go. FIREALPACA FireAlpaca is a very͞ easy-to-use drawing tool that’s free forever for Windows and Mac users, or you can pay to remove the ads on Steam. AUTODESK SKETCHBOOK If you don’t need to edit photos or refine existing images, consider a draw-only app like Autodesk’s Sketchbook. It boasts easy-to-master tools that will help you turn your big graphics ideas into reality. Use Sketchbook to draw on your tablet, Mac, or desktop PC. You can also export your project to Photoshop when you’re done without losing layer data. Sketchbook is totally free to use, too, so it’s the perfect tool for those just getting started with stylus pen art. A free Sketchbook mobile app is available for iOS and Android devices. Also, Sketchbook Pro is available for Mac and Windows desktops for $19.99 BLENDER Blender is open-source 3D animation software for creating 3D models and big-budget movıe animations. However, it’s gaining popularity among those who just want to draw. One of Blender’s cooler features is the grease pencil mode, which lets you create artwork from simple lines. You can use the mode to make all kinds of vector-based artwork, sculptures, storyboards, animations, comics, and more. And if you need inspiration or a starting place, Blender hosts a ton of templates from its community. Even better, this PC drawing app is always free to use. INKSCAPE Inkscape is free to download, use, and share, and the source code is available for inspection. You can download it for Linux, Windows, and macOS platforms. Inkscape is an entirely vector-based drawing program that lets you draw and manipulate objects. It’s also perfect for creating shapes and designing logos. It’s open-source and completely free, too, and has become popular for both nonprofit and commercial uses. Users love it for creating clip art, typography, flowcharts, diagrams, and infographics, as well as simple cartoons. The items you create in Inkscape are the SVG file format, but you can also export in PNG, OpenDocument Drawing, DXF, sk1, PDF, EPS, and PostScript. You have the option to draw free-hand with your pen or you can use the shape tools to get a just-right look to your drawings. The Boolean operatıon make it easy to convert selected objects in the file to “paths” using simple directions like “exclusion, combine, or b͞reak apart.” You can render as you draw, too, and watch your drawings come alįve. Inkscape is available for Linux, Mac, and Windows users. ARTRAGE With Artrage, you can create realistic-looking paintings with only̕ your stylus. Use the multiple brush customization settings to create oil, watercolor, or pastel finishes. You can also record as you work, so you can show off your entire process. Artrage makes it feel like working on a real canvas, and it includes blending modes. The app is available in the Lite version as an iOS and Android mobile app, or you download the full-featured desktop version (Vitae) for Mac or Windows. Glorify Glorify has a free forever plan and two pricing plans – Pro and Business. It is an all-in-one desıgnıng tool, a love child of Canva and Photoshop. It is easy enough to use but still powerful enough for demanding users.

Prequel A prequel is a film that is set before the original film. Sequel The most popular type of follow-up there is, a sequel picks up after the original/previous film. Whether that means directly after the previous film’s events, or 10 years after makes no difference – as long as it follows up directly, without any other project being in the way. Midquel Also called an interquel, a midquel is… well, something in the middle. Taken within a franchise, it’s the latest entry, but acts as a sequel to one or more of the original films, and in the same time acts as a prequel to others. Otherwise, it can also take place inside a single film – that for instance features a long time skip that is not explored as part of the original project, but the midquel comes back and explores it instead. Examples include Alien vs Predator, Terminator Salvation, Red Dragon, Solo: A Star Wars Story, and The Scorpion King. so an interquel occurs between two already-established stories. If "Story Z" follows "Story X," but there is room between the two for another story, you could add "Story Y" as an interquel. An example of this in mainstream media would be Black Widow because this story takes place after the events of Captain America: Civil War and before the events of Avengers: Infinity War even though Avengers: Infinity War had already been released by this time. Inquel An inquel is a story that takes place within a gap of time in another story. If Story X has a period of time that is rushed through without being fully explored, that would give an author the opportunity to later go back and write an inquel. These are not common, but an example of this would be Bambi II, which occurs during the established events of Bambi. It explores the time period when Bambi is still a fawn and his mother has just died. It ends prior to the time when Bambi is shown as an adult in the first movie. trequel A work following a sequel; the third in a series, particularly of films. synonym ▲ Synonym: threequel Paraquel A paraquel isn't something you come across very often, but this is a story that occurs within the same world at the same time as another story. This means you will likely see overlapping characters and scenes, though they probably won't all be the same. If an author writes a story of the same events from another character's perspective, that would be a paraquel. If "Story X" and "Story Y" are happening at the same time to two different characters within the same world, the two stories would then be paraquels of each other. My book, The Heart of Everton Inn, is a paraquel in relation to The Secret of Drulea Cottage because the two stories are taking place at the same time, but The Heart of Everton Inn features Adaira Stubbins as the main character, whereas Briony Fairborn is the protagonist of The Secret of Drulea Cottage. Circumquel This type of story has events occurring before "Story X" and events occurring after "Story X." I can't recall ever watching a movie or reading a book with this type of story, and it seems like it would be very difficult to create a compelling one. I would think that making two separate stories (a prequel and a sequel) would be a better stylistic choice than putting both past and future events into one story. postquel (Blend of post- +‎ sequel.) (narratology) A work of fiction which is set after the events of an earlier installment in a series but is not an immediate sequel. C.S. Lewis's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was followed by four sequels beginning with Prince Caspian, but also an inquel (The Horse and His Boy) and a prequel (The Magician's Nephew)

https://perchance.org/emojigen

https://www.domestika.org/es/schools

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

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JUST A TOUCH ix (Autistic author) Plankton's antennae quiver with frustration. "It's about the order," he repeats, his voice strained. "Everything needs order." Squidward sighs, his tentacles flapping in exasperation. "Look, I don't know what's gotten into you, but we need to get these dishes done, and we can't do that if you're going to micromanage every single one!" Plankton's antennae droop. "Needs thorough..." Squidward throws his tentacles up in the air. "I don't care about your 'thoroughness' right now!" he exclaims. "Just let me do my job!" Plankton's antennae flatten. "No!" he shouts, his voice echoing off the stainless steel walls. Squidward turns, his tentacles poised for a fight. "What is your problem?" he snaps. Plankton's eye darts around, his heart racing. He can't explain the sudden urgency, the need for order that's consuming him. The need to be perfectly cleansed without blemish. "It's just... it's just..." Plankton stammers, his antennae drooping. Squidward's eyes narrow, his tentacles still. "What's the matter with you?" he asks, his voice edged with irritation. Plankton swallows, his throat tight. "Needs good.." But before he can say more, his gaze locks onto a speck of dirt on a plate. The world around him fades away as he reaches for it, his movements slow and deliberate. Squidward watches him, his expression a mix of confusion and annoyance. "What is that?" he asks, his tone sharp. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye focusing on the speck. "Dirt," he whispers, his voice laced with distress. "Has to be gone." His hand shakes as he reaches for the plate, his mind consumed by the need to remove the imperfection. Squidward snatches the plate, his tentacles firm. "It's just a tiny speck!" he says, his voice loud. Plankton's antennae shoot up, his body stiffening. "Can't have dirt," he murmurs. The room seems to close in, his heart hammering in his chest. The need for order, for everything to be just so, is a wave crushing down on him. Squidward's face swims in his vision, a blur of impatience. "Squidward," he says, his voice steadying. "It's dirty." Squidward's grip on the plate doesn't waver. "It's not dirty," he says, his tone firm. "It's a tiny speck." But to Plankton, that speck is a boulder, a symbol of the chaos he can't control. His antennas quiver as he stares at the offending spot, his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. The world narrows to just the dish, the speck, and the overwhelming need to erase it. Squidward reaches out a tentacle, to move him aside, reaching to touch Plankton's shoulder. But before he can make contact, Plankton flinches, his eye snapping up to meet Squidward's. "Don't," he says, his voice sharp. "No touch." "Then move so I can mix the dishes.." The words hit Plankton like a wave, sending him spiraling. He can't explain it, but the thought of Squidward's tentacle touching him sends a shiver down his spine. But the only alternative is to result in disordered dishes! Squidward's grip on the plate doesn't change, his tentacle poised to push Plankton aside. "Please," Plankton whispers, his voice trembling. "No..." SpongeBob watches from a distance, his smile fading. He's noticed the changes in Plankton, the way his movements have become so precise, his speech so formal. But he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Squidward's tentacle hovers, his gaze flicking from the plate to Plankton's face. "I'm in charge, not you!" He says shoving Plankton as he mixes the dishes. That's it. The room spins around Plankton, his vision blurring with the sudden assault. The clatter of plates, the smell of grease, the touch of Squidward's tentacle— it's too much. His body reacts before his brain can catch up, the partygoers' laughter a distant echo in Plankton's ringing ears. "Plankton?" Squidward asks, his voice a distant rumble as SpongeBob comes in. Plankton's vaguely aware of his surroundings, but it's all just white noise, his gaze going blank as the absence seizure starts up.

Adrenal Gland Tumor(Pheochromocytoma) Anosmia( Loss of Smell) Athletes Foot( Tinea Pedis) Bad Breath(Halitosis , Oral Malodor) Bedwetting(Enuresis) Bile Duct Cancer(Cholangiocarcinoma) Blackheads(Comedones) Bleedingnose(Nosebleed / Epistaxis) Blepharospasm - Eye Twitching(Eye Twitching - Blepharospasm) Bulging Eyes(Eye Proptosis | Exophthalmos) Cephalgia(Headache) Cheilitis | Chapped Lips Conjunctivitis( Pink Eye) Dry Skin(Xerosis) Fasciculations(Muscle Twitching) Fever(Pyrexia) Gallstones(Cholelithiasis) Herpangina (Painful Mouth Infection)(Mouth Blisters) Itchy Skin(Pruritus) Kinetosis(Travel Sickness / Sea sickness | Space sickness / Motion Sickness) Nervous Tic(Trigeminal Neuralgia) Ringworm(Tinea / Dermatophytosis) Singultus(Hiccups , Hiccoughs , Synchronous Diaphragmatic Flutter (SDF)) Smelly Feet(Bromodosis) Sneezing(Sternutation) Stiff Neck(Neck Pain / Cervicalgia) Stomach Flu(Gastroenteritis) Strabismus|Squint Utricaria(Hives) Uveitis(Eye Inflammation) Xerostomia(Dry Mouth)

Health and illnesses To go to the doctor : aller chez le médecin. sick : malade. pain : la douleur. cough : la toux. flu : la grippe. cold : un rhume. a runny nose : le nez qui coule. f. sore throat : un mal de gorge. fever : la fièvre. diarrhea : la diarrhée. nausea : la nausée. illness : la maladie. Allergy : l’allergie, f. headache : le mal de tête. toothache : mal de dents. glandular fever : la mononucléose. gastric flux : la gastro-entérite. eye infection : la conjonctivite. ear infection : l’otite, f. throat infection : l’angine, f. laryngitis : la laryngite. sinusitis : la sinusite. bronchitis : la bronchite. gallstones : les calculs, m. Measles : la rougeole. german measles : la rubéole. chicken pox : la varicelle. scarlet fever : la scarlatine. smallpox : la variole. mumps : les oreillons, m. whooping cough : la coqueluche. diphteria : la diphtérie. jaundice : la jaunisse. parasite : le parasite. fungus : champignon, m (mushroom). germ : microbe, m. bacteria : la bactérie. virus : virus, m. vaccine : le vaccin (to vaccine : vacciner). booster : le rappel. clot : le caillot. bleeding : l’hémorragie (interne/externe), f. Deaf : sourd-e. deafness : la surdité. mute : muet-te. muteness : le mutisme. blind : aveugle. blindness : la cécité,. hearing aid : l’appareil auditif, m/la prothèse auditive. colourblind : daltonien-ne. colourblindness : le daltonisme. short sighted : myope, ep (la myopie). long sighted : hypermétrope/presbyte, ep (l’hypermétropie/la presbytie). glasses : les lunettes, f. contact lenses : les lentilles, f. Depression : la dépression. nevrosis : la névrose. panic attack : l’attaque de panique, f. phobia : la phobie. breakdown : la dépression nerveuse. psychosis : la psychose. hysterics : la crise de nerfs. paranoia : la paranoïa. anxiety : l’anxiété, f. anxious : anxieux/ieuse. stress : le stress/l’angoisse, f. stressed : stressé-e, angoissé-e. shaking : tremblement, m/to shake : trembler. to mutilate : mutiler. Tuberculosis : la tuberculose. appendicitis : l’appendicite, f. tetanus : le tétanos. gangrene : la gangrène. pneumonia : la pneumonie. hepatitis : l’hépatite, f. cancer : le cancer (du sang : blood, de la peau : skin, des poumons : lungs, du sein : breast…). tumor : la tumeur. AIDS : le SIDA (syndrome d’immuno-déficience acquise)/VIH. Typhoid : la typhoïde. malaria : le paludisme, m. cholera : le choléra. plague : la peste (noire). rabies : la rage. poliomyelitis : la poliomyélite. inflamed vein : la phlébite. aneurism : l’anévrisme, m. cardiac arrest : un arrêt cardiaque. heart attack : la crise cardiaque. stroke : l’attaque, f. To cough : tousser. to sneeze : éternuer. to shiver : frissonner. to sniff : renifler. to sweat : suer. to have a fever : avoir de la fièvre. to spit : cracher. coughing fit : la quinte de toux. blocked ears : oreilles bouchées, f. prescription : l’ordonnance, f. treatment : le traitement. medication : médicament, m. pill : le cachet. plasters : pansements, m. antibiotics : les antibiotiques, m. I hurt my hand : je me suis fait mal à la main/je me suis blessé-e à la main. i’m not feeling well : je ne me sens pas bien. bless you : à tes/vos souhaits. to be in pain : avoir mal, souffrir. my head hurts : j’ai mal à la tête (or ‘au’ if masculine noun), broken bone : os cassé, fracture : une fracture (au/à la+), plaster : un plâtre (un bras dans le plâtre). Breath : l’haleine (bonne, mauvaise), f. splinter : l’écharde, f. flat feet : les pieds plats, m. dandruff : pellicules, f (pl). sunburn : le coup de soleil. cut : la coupure. asthma : l’asthme.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS viii (Autistic Author) They sit in silence for a few moments, the sound of Plankton's slowing breaths filling the space. Karen's mind races with the conversation they need to have with Chip. "How do we explain it?" Plankton asks, finally breaking the silence. His antennae still, his eye looking at the floor. "We tell him the truth," Karen says firmly. "But we also remind him of all the wonderful things you do for him, all the ways you show him love." Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping further. "I know I'm not the dad he deserves," he murmurs. Karen's voice is firm, but filled with warmth. "You are the dad he needs," she corrects. "And we'll get through this together." Finally, Plankton's antennae perk up slightly. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice still thick with emotion. Karen nods. "I know," she says softly. "But we can't keep hiding this from him. He needs to understand." Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping. "I know," he admits. "I just don't know where to start." Karen gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "We'll start by talking to him," she says, her voice strong and reassuring. "When you're ready." They sit there for a while longer, the rhythm of Plankton's breathing slowly returning to normal. Karen's mind is racing with thoughts of how to navigate this chapter in their lives. How to help Chip understand his father's condition without scaring him or making him feel responsible. Finally, Plankton turns to her, his antennae still shaky. "What do we do now?" he asks, his voice a mix of exhaustion and fear. Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes filled with resolve. "First," she says, "we make sure you're ok." They sit there, the only sound in the room the distant hum of the TV. Plankton's antennae are still, his eye focused on the floor. Karen's hand remains on his back, a silent promise that she's there for him. "Let's get you to bed," she says softly. "You need to rest." With her help, Plankton stands, his legs wobbly from the intense episode. Together, they make their way to their bedroom, the quiet of the house a stark contrast to the emotional upheaval they've just experienced. Once Plankton is tucked into bed, Karen sits beside him, her hand resting on his arm. "We'll get through this," she says, her voice a gentle reassurance in the stillness. "We're a family." Plankton's antennae twitch with a hint of doubt, and he looks up at her, his eye searching hers for understanding. "But what if I can't?" Karen's gaze is unwavering. "You can," she says firmly. "You're strong, Plankton. And we're here to help you." Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods slowly. "Ok," he whispers. "Ok." Karen leans in, kissing his forehead. "Rest," she says. "We'll talk more tomorrow." With a nod, Plankton closes his eye, and Karen slips out of the room, leaving the door open a crack. She heads to Chip's room, heavy with the weight of the conversation they need to have. Chip is lying on his bed, his small form wrapped in a blanket, staring at the ceiling. His eyes are red, and he looks up as Karen enters. "Hey, buddy," she says softly, sitting beside him. "Can we talk?" Chip nods, his eyes still wet with tears. "What's wrong with Daddy?" he asks, his voice shaky. Karen takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "Daddy has something called Autism, sweetie," she says, her voice gentle. "It makes his brain work a bit differently from ours. Sometimes, when he's really upset or overwhelmed, his body can react in ways that might seem strange or scary." Chip's eyes are wide with curiosity, and he nods slowly. "Is that why he gets so mad?" he asks. Karen takes a moment before responding. "Sometimes, yes," she says. "It's his way of dealing with big feelings. But it's not because he's mad at you, ok?" Chip nods, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "But why does he get so mad?" he asks again, his voice quivering. Karen sighs, her hand stroking him. "Daddy gets overwhelmed by his feelings, and it's hard for him to express them," she explains. "Sometimes, when he can't find the right words or when things get too much, he feels like he's going to break apart. That's what we call a meltdown." Chip sniffs, his eyes glued to the ceiling. "It's like when I'm really sad and I don't want to talk?" Karen nods, her heart swelling with love for her son's empathy. "Exactly," she says. "And just like you, Daddy needs some space when that happens." Chip looks at her, his eyes serious. "But what if I want to show him my affection?" Karen smiles sadly. "You can, Chip," she says. "Just remember to be gentle, and maybe use words or gestures that aren't to overwhelming for him." Chip nods, his eyes still on the ceiling. "But what if I make it worse?" he whispers. Karen's heart clenches at his fear, and she takes his hand in hers. "Sometimes, we just need to learn new ways to show and receive love." Chip nods, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Ok," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen leans in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "You're brave," she says, her voice filled with pride. "But what about the rock he broke?" Chip asks, his voice still shaky. Karen sighs, her eyes meeting his. "Daddy didn't mean to scare you," she says. "Sometimes, when people are upset, they do things they don't mean to. It's part of how they cope." Chip nods, his grip on her hand tightening. "But Dad now," he says again, his voice small. "We'll give him some time to rest," Karen assures him. "And tomorrow, we'll talk about it more." With that, she tucks the blanket around him and turns to leave. As she reaches the door, Chip's voice stops her. "Mom," he says, his tone tentative. "Can I go to Daddy?" Karen's heart skips a beat, and she looks back at him, her eyes filled with both concern and hope. "Do you think that's a good idea, sweetie?" Chip nods. "I want to tell him I love him," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's heart squeezes. "Ok," she says, taking a deep breath. "But remember, we need to be gentle with him right now. Let's go to his room together." They tiptoe down the hall, the house eerily quiet. Karen can feel Chip's hand in hers, small and warm and trembling slightly. When they reach the bedroom, she opens the door quietly and peeks in. Plankton is lying on his back, his antennae still, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. They approach the bed, and Karen can see the tension in Plankton's body, even in sleep. She whispers to Chip, "Remember, sweetie, just a little. And if he wakes up, tell him you love him." Chip nods solemnly, and together, they tiptoe to the bedside. Chip extends a tentative hand and gently pats Plankton's arm. Plankton's antennae twitch, but he doesn't wake. "I love you, Daddy," Chip whispers, his voice quivering. Karen's eyes fill with tears at the sight of her son's bravery and love. She gives Chip's hand a squeeze. "That was perfect," she says, her voice barely a murmur. They stand there for a moment, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall in the dim light of the moon peeking through the curtains. Then, with a heavy heart, Karen leads Chip back to his room. Once Chip is tucked in, she kisses his forehead and whispers, "You're a brave boy, and I'm so proud of you." His eyes, still red and swollen from crying, meet hers with a quiet understanding beyond his years.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS ix (Autistic Author) As Karen heads back to her own bed, her mind is a whirlwind of emotions. She can't help but feel a twinge of anger at the cruel hand life has dealt Plankton, making something as simple as expressing love a monumental challenge. But she quickly pushes it aside, focusing on the love she feels for her husband and the determination to help their family navigate through this. The night passes slowly, filled with restlessness and worry. When dawn breaks, Karen is already preparing breakfast, hoping that the routine might offer a semblance of normalcy. The smell of pancakes fills the house, a silent promise that today will be better. Plankton emerges from the bedroom, his antennae drooping slightly, evidence of his fatigue. He meets Karen's gaze, and she offers him a soft smile. "How are you feeling?" she asks, her voice gentle. He shrugs, his antennae twitching nervously. "Tired," he admits. "But ready to talk to Chip." Karen nods with a mix of concern and admiration. "I'll get him up," she says, heading to Chip's room. When they all gather at the breakfast table, the tension in the air is palpable. Plankton sits stiffly, his antennae barely moving, as if afraid to break the delicate silence. Chip looks between them, his eyes wide and hopeful. "Chip," Karen says gently, taking a deep breath. "Remember what we talked about last night? About Daddy's meltdowns?" Chip nods, his eyes darting to Plankton, who's pushing his pancake around with a syrupy look of dread. "Daddy?" he says, his voice tentative. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he looks up, his gaze meeting Chip's. The fear and confusion in Chip's eyes is almost too much to bear, but he steels himself. "Yes, buddy?" he asks, his voice hoarse from the previous night's outburst. "I made you this," Chip says, pushing a plate of perfectly formed pancakes towards his father. "To make you feel better." Plankton's antennae perk up slightly at the gesture, his eye focusing on the food with a hint of curiosity. "Thanks, buddy," he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep. Chip's eyes are glued to his father, his heart pounding in anticipation of a reaction. "Do you like them?" he asks, hope blooming in his voice. Plankton nods, his antennae waving slightly. "They look delicious," he says, and there's a hint of a smile in his voice. He takes a bite, chewing slowly. The room holds its breath, waiting. "They're great," he finally says, and Chip's face lights up. The tension in the room eases ever so slightly, the sweetness of the maple syrup mingling with the salty scent of fear that still lingers. Karen watches the exchange, her heart swelling with pride for both of them. Plankton's effort to engage, despite his exhaustion, is clear. Chip, for his part, seems to understand the unspoken rules of their new reality. They're all learning together, stumbling in the dark but finding their way through the maze of neurodivergence. "Daddy," Chip says after a moment, his voice filled with courage. "I know you have meltdowns sometimes. But I still love you." Plankton's antennae droop slightly, his chewing slowing. He looks at his son, his single eye filled with a mix of emotions: love, regret, and a hint of fear. "I know, buddy," he whispers. "And I too." The room remains quiet, the only sound the soft clinking of silverware against plates. Plankton clears his throat. "Chip, I need to tell you something." Chip looks up, his eyes wide and expectant. "What is it, Daddy?" Plankton takes a deep breath, his antennae fluttering. "I have something," he says slowly. "It's like... it's like my brain works differently than yours and Mommy's." Chip's eyes never leave his dad's, nodding slightly. "Ok," he says, his voice steady. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he looks down at his plate, his voice quivering. "It's called Autism," he says. "It means that sometimes, I get really, really upset, and my body reacts in ways that might scare you." Chip's expression is a blend of confusion and curiosity. "But why do you get upset, Daddy?" he asks. Plankton's antennae wiggle as he searches for the right words. "Sometimes, things that don't bother you or Mommy can feel really, really big to me," he explains. "It's like when you're scared of a thunderstorm, and the thunder feels like it's right next to you." Chip's brow furrows, and he nods. "But you're not scared of storms, Daddy," he points out. "It's different, bud," Plankton says, his antennae stilling for a moment. "It's like... sometimes my brain gets a storm inside, and I don't know how to make it stop." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "But you're ok now?" he asks, his voice small. Plankton nods, his antennae moving in a way that Karen knows means he's trying to be brave. "I'm ok," he says, his voice a little stronger. "But I might have more storms. And when I do, I might need some space." Chip looks at him seriously, his young mind working to understand. "Ok," he says, his voice a soft echo of Plankton's earlier apology. "I won't make it stormy for you, Daddy." Plankton's antennae twitch with a mix of love and relief. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "That means the world to me." Karen watches them, her heart swelling with hope. Maybe, just maybe, this is the start of a new understanding. "And you know," she adds, her voice gentle, "Whenever you have questions or if you're scared, you can come to me and/or Daddy, and we'll explain as best as we can." Chip nods, his gaze still focused on Plankton. "But what if I don't know when I’m irritating you?" Plankton's antennae droop, and he sighs. "That's the hard part," he admits. "Sometimes I don't know either. But we can learn together, ok?" Chip nods, his eyes still on his dad's. "Ok," he says, his voice a little shaky. Karen pours them both a glass of juice, hoping to lighten the mood. "Why don't we talk about what you can do to help?" she suggests, handing a glass to Chip. Chip takes a sip, his eyes still on Plankton. "What can I do?" he asks, his voice earnest. Plankton's antennae twitch thoughtfully. "Well," he says, "sometimes, all I need is a little space, like when I'm in the middle of a big idea." Chip nods, remembering the times when Plankton would get so focused on his latest contraption that the slightest disturbance would send him into a tizzy. "I can do that," he says, his voice filled with determination. Plankton's antennae lift slightly. "And when you do freeze, Dad," Chip continues, his voice soft, "How can I tell if you need a hug or if you just need me to sit with you?" Karen's eyes fill with pride as she watches her son's bravery. Plankton looks at Chip, his antennae moving in a way that she knows means he's trying to find the right words. "If I freeze," he says slowly, "it's ok to just be there, to wait until I come back. I might not be able to hug you right then, but I'll know you're there." Chip nods, his grip on his juice glass tightening slightly. "What about meltdowns?" he asks, his voice quivering. Plankton's antennae droop, and he takes a deep breath. "Those are harder," he admits. "But if you can give me space and maybe some quiet, it'll help me calm down faster." Chip nods solemnly, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "I'll try," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Dad, what types of touch do you like and what types of affection do you dislike?” Plankton's antennae twitch, and he looks at Karen for a moment, unsure of how to answer. She gives him a gentle nod of encouragement. "Well," he starts, "I'm not a big fan of surprise hugs or pats on the back, especially when I'm working or thinking hard. But a hand on my shoulder or a quiet 'I love you' is always nice." Chip nods, processing the information. "So, like when you're stressed, I should just tell you I love you?" Plankton's antennae wobble with the weight of his nod. "Yes," he says. "That's right. Just remember, buddy, everyone shows love differently." Karen's eyes are filled with hope as she watches the conversation unfold. It's not perfect, but it's a start. A start to understanding and acceptance. "And if you need more than that, Daddy?" Chip asks, his voice small but earnest. Plankton looks at him, his antennae moving in a way that Karen can't quite read. "If I need more than that," he says, "I'll tell you. Or Mommy will help you understand." Chip nods, taking another sip of his juice. "Ok," he says, his voice small. "But what if I don't know what to say?" Plankton's antennae wiggle slightly, and he looks down at his plate. "That's ok, Chip," he says. "Sometimes, just sitting with me is enough."

CATCH IN MY CHIP viii (Autistic author) The room is bathed in a soft moonlight, the shadows playing across Plankton's sleeping features. His body, once taut with tension, has relaxed into the embrace of the bed, his arm curled around a pillow. His antennas now rest gently on the pillowcase, no longer quivering with agitation. Karen watches him sleep, her thoughts a jumble of worry and love. She knows he's tired, that the weight of the world can be too much for him to bear at times. But she also knows that he's strong, that he'll face tomorrow with determination. The first light of dawn filters through the curtains, painting the room in soft shades of pink and orange. Karen gently squeezes his shoulder before standing, her eyes never leaving his peaceful face. She knows that today will be a day of apologies and understanding, of teaching Chip about his dad's autism and how to navigate the world around him. With a soft sigh, she heads to Chip's room, her footsteps silent on the cool floor. She opens the door to find him sitting up in bed, his eyes red and puffy from crying. He looks at her. "Is Dad okay?" he asks, his voice thick with sleep and the remnants of his earlier distress. Karen nods, her eyes filled with a quiet determination. "We'll talk to him when he wakes up." The words hang in the air, a gentle reminder of the conversation that needs to be had. Chip nods, his eyes still puffy from crying. He clutches his pillow, the fabric damp from his tears. "But what do I do?" he asks, his voice small and scared. "How do I make sure I don't make him upset again?" Karen sits on the edge of the bed, her hand stroking his. "You just keep being you, Chip," she says, her voice warm. "Daddy loves you, and we'll learn together how to make sure he doesn't get overwhelmed." Chip nods, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "But what about my trophy?" he asks, his voice still shaky. Karen's hand stops, her gaze dropping to the shard of plastic he holds tightly in his fist. "We'll fix it," she says, her voice filled with conviction. "Together." The promise brings a small smile to Chip's face, his eyes lighting up. "Really?" Karen nods, her own smile genuine. "Of course, honey," she says. "We're a family. We stick together." With that, she stands up, her body weary but her spirit resolute. The room feels lighter somehow, the air less charged with tension. Chip clambers out of bed, his small hand reaching for hers. Together, they walk to the bedroom, the shattered remnants of the trophy glinting in the early light. Plankton is still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Chip looks at him, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and curiosity. "We'll talk to him when he wakes up," Karen says, her voice soft. They sit beside Plankton's bed, the room still and quiet. Chip's hand trembles slightly as he holds the broken piece of trophy. "But what if he's still mad?" he whispers, his voice barely above the silence. Karen's hand squeezes his. "He'll understand," she says, her voice filled with a calm certainty. "He loves you, and he knows you didn't mean to hurt him." The words are a gentle balm to Chip's fears, but the doubt lingers. He nods, his gaze never leaving his father. "Remember, Chip," Karen says, her voice a soft whisper. "Daddy's brain is different." Chip nods, his eyes fixed on his dad's sleeping form. He's seen Plankton stressed before, but never like this. He wants to show him love. With tentative steps, he moves closer to the bed, his heart beating a staccato in his chest. He reaches out, his hand shaking slightly as he hovers it over his dad's arm. "Chip," Karen whispers, her hand covering his. "Remember, gentle." Her words are a gentle reminder of the invisible lines that can be crossed. Chip nods, his eyes on Plankton's peaceful face. He takes a deep breath, his hand steadying. Slowly, so slowly it's almost imperceptible, he brings his palm to rest on Plankton's forearm, his touch as light as a feather. Plankton's body tenses for a moment, a reflexive reaction to the sudden contact. Chip holds his breath, waiting, hoping. Then, almost imperceptibly, he feels his dad's arm relax under his hand. "It's okay," Karen whispers, her voice a gentle breeze. "He's okay." Chip's hand remains hovering, his heart in his throat. Plankton's body remains still, his breathing even. Karen's touch is a guide, her hand resting on Chip's. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a soft encouragement. "You can do it." With a deep breath, Chip's hand descends, his fingertips brushing against Plankton's arm. Plankton's antennas twitch. Karen watches, her eyes never leaving her husband's face. Chip's hand hovers, his heart racing. He wants to reassure his dad, to let him know he's there. He's learned about space and understanding, but all he can think of is the warmth of his touch, the comfort he craves to give. His fingertips graze Plankton's arm, the contact so light it's barely there. He watches, waiting for a reaction, for a sign that he's crossed the line. But Plankton remains still, his breathing unchanged. Encouraged, Chip presses down slightly, his hand a soft weight on his father's arm. He feels the warmth of his skin, the steady pulse beneath. It's a tentative connection, fragile as spider silk. Plankton's antennas quiver, but his body remains still. Chip's heart hammers in his chest, his breaths shallow and quick. He's afraid to move, afraid to break the spell. Karen watches, her eyes filled with a quiet hope. The air in the room is thick with anticipation. Chip's hand hovers over Plankton's arm, trembling slightly with nerves and love. He's unsure if this small gesture will be met with anger or acceptance. Karen's gaze is a silent cheer, urging him on. Plankton's breaths remain steady, his body still. Chip's heart is a drum in his chest, each beat a silent plea for understanding. With a tremble, he lets his hand settle, his fingertips barely grazing the fabric of the blanket. He feels the heat of Plankton's skin, the rise and fall of his chest. It's a gentle touch, the lightest of caresses. Karen's hand remains on his, guiding him, encouraging him. Plankton's breaths remain steady, his body still. Chip's eyes are wide with hope, his hand poised above the blanket. With a tremble, he lets his fingers come to rest on the cotton, feeling the warmth of his father's arm beneath. He holds his breath, waiting for a reaction, for any sign that he's done the right thing. Plankton's body remains still, his breathing unchanged. Karen's eyes are glued to his face, watching for any hint of distress. But there's none. Only the gentle rise and fall of his chest, a testament to his deep sleep. Chip's hand is a butterfly landing on Plankton's arm, his fingers fluttering slightly against the warmth of his skin. He's never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But his love for his dad is stronger than his fear. Karen watches the silent exchange, her heart in her throat. The moment feels sacred, a testament to their growing understanding of each other. Chip's hand remains on Plankton's arm, the warmth of his touch a promise of comfort and love. He's afraid to move, afraid to disrupt the delicate balance. Karen's hand is a soft presence, guiding him, giving him the courage to stay. Plankton's breaths are slow and even, his body relaxed. Chip wonders if he's dreaming, if he's in a world where the sensory overload doesn't exist. His heart swells with hope, with the desire to protect his dad from the world's harshness. Karen's hand on his is a gentle reminder that he's not alone. She gives him a small, encouraging nod, her eyes filled with understanding. He takes a deep breath, his hand moving slowly, so slowly, to cover his dad's. The moment their skin touches, it's like a dam breaks. Chip feels a rush of warmth, a connection that's been missing. He squeezes Plankton's arm lightly, his heart pounding. He's afraid to move, afraid to breathe too loudly. Karen's eyes never leave Plankton's face, watching for any sign of distress. But his features remain relaxed, his antennas still. The room is a sanctuary of quiet, the only sound their melded breaths. Chip feels a lump form in his throat, his eyes welling with tears. He whispers, "Thank you," to his mom, his voice shaky with emotion. She nods, her hand still covering his. "Remember," she says, her voice a soft caress. "Gentle." With trembling fingers, Chip tucks the blanket closer around Plankton, the fabric smoothing over his shoulders. It's a tiny act of love, a silent apology. He wants to crawl into the bed beside him, to wrap his arms around his dad.. He looks up at Karen, his eyes pleading. "Can I?" Karen nods, her smile sad but understanding. "Just be careful not to wake him," she whispers. With the grace of a cat burglar, Chip slides into the bed, his movements slow and calculated. He's careful not to disturb the sheets, not to make a sound that could break the tranquil silence. Plankton's arm is a warm mound beside him, and he reaches out tentatively, his fingers seeking the comfort of his dad's skin. He finds it, his hand coming to rest lightly on the crook of his elbow. The connection feels right, like finding a piece of himself he didn't know was lost. He snuggles closer, his head resting on the pillow beside Plankton's. Karen watches, her heart swelling with love for her son. "It's ok," she whispers. "Just be gentle."

JUST A TOUCH vi (Autistic author) Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. His eye dart to the clock on the wall. "Must rest," he murmurs, his voice low. Karen nods, her hand squeezing his shoulder gently, which makes him flinch. "I'm sorry," she says, quickly withdrawing it. They sit in the quiet, Plankton's mind racing, trying to process the onslaught of the day. Karen's eyes are on him, a mix of sadness and love. He can feel it, even through the wall of his new condition. He reaches out, tentatively, his hand hovering over hers. It's a peace offering, a silent request for the comfort she always provided. Karen's eyes widen, surprise and hope flickering in their depths. She places her hand under his, allowing him to guide it to his cheek. "Plankton can, may I ask you something?" Karen says quietly. He nods once, his antennae still. "Yes," he says. "What were you experiencing when you froze today? You know, before we came to our bed? When Hanna was..." Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze shifting to hers. "Too much," he murmurs. "Could tell you're here and talking but, cannot comprehend. Plankton felt dizzy in the head. Was present yet not present." Karen's eyes fill with understanding. "It's like your brain was on overload," she says, her voice soft. "And my touch...it helped?" Plankton shrugs, his antennae lifting slightly. "Familiar. Soothing." He looks at her, his gaze intense. "Needed more of you." Karen's eyes water, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I'm here now," she whispers. But Plankton notices the tears in her eyes. "Why sad?" he asks, his voice still flat. "Karen crying. Crying sad. Thus, Karen's sad.." Karen sniffles, her thumb wiping away a tear. "I'm just overwhelmed," she says. "I'm trying to understand and be there for you, but sometimes it's hard." Plankton's antennae droop. "Karen not at fault," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. "Plankton's brain... different, now." Karen nods, her hand still in his. "I know," she whispers. "But I'm here to learn with you." Her words hang in the air, a promise of support and patience. Plankton's gaze lingers on their joined hands, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her palm. The sensation grounds him, a lifeline in the storm of his new reality. He tries to formulate his next words, his mind racing. "Thanks," he finally says, his voice a barely-there whisper. Karen smiles softly, her eyes never leaving his. "For what?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "For... being... understanding." The words are forced, but the sentiment is clear. Karen's heart swells with love and determination. They sit in silence for a moment, the gentle pressure of their joined hands speaking louder than any words could. Plankton's gaze shifts from their interlocked hands to Karen's eyes. He can see the love and concern in them, and it calms him in a way nothing else can. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. "Karen," he says, his voice still monotone but with a hint of longing. "Can... be in your arms?" Karen's eyes widen with understanding. She nods, moving closer to him. "Of course," she whispers, opening her arms. Plankton shifts his body, his movements stiff but deliberate as he slides closer to her. He nestles into her embrace, his antennae resting on her shoulder. Her arms close around him, enveloping his small form in warmth. He takes a deep breath, his body finally beginning to unwind. Plankton's antennae still, his breathing evening out. Karen holds him. Her hand gently strokes his back— a soothing motion. Plankton's eye closes. Karen's heart swells with relief as Plankton's body gradually relaxes into her embrace. The weight of the day's stresses seems to melt away as she holds him, feeling the steady rhythm of his breaths. This is a new chapter in their relationship, one filled with unexpected challenges and a deeper understanding of each other's needs. She's aware that his autism isn't something to be cured or fixed, but a part of who he is now, something to be accepted and supported. She strokes his back, her movements slow and measured, mimicking the calm she wishes to impart. His breaths deepen, and she can feel his body grow heavier in her arms. Plankton's antennae droop with fatigue, his eyelid flickering as he succumbs to sleep. His tiny hand remains in hers, a silent plea to not let go. Karen squeezes gently, her screen never leaving his face. The room is bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the shadows playing across the wall like a silent guardian. The only noise is the steady tick of the clock and the occasional snore from Plankton. Karen watches him sleep, his tiny form nestled in the crook of her arm. His antennae rest peacefully against her shoulder, his breaths deep and even. Her heart swells with a mix of love and fear. She's afraid for him, for the world he's woken up to, a place where every sound, every touch, every interaction is a minefield. But she's also proud of him, the way he's trying to navigate this new reality with a stoicism that belies his size. Plankton stirs slightly, his eyelid fluttering. Karen holds her breath, afraid to disturb his fragile peace. His hand tightens on hers, and she knows he's aware of her presence. It's a small victory in a day filled with confusion. He opens his eye, looking up at her with a gaze that's both familiar and foreign. "Karen," he says, his voice still monotone. Karen's screen brightens with relief. "Yes, Plankton?" He shifts, his gaze drifting to the book on the nightstand. "Book," he says, his voice barely audible. "Read." Karen nods, understanding his need for the familiar. She picks up the book, her eyes skimming over the pages. "Which one?" she asks softly. Plankton's eye darts to the title. "The... puzzle," he murmurs, his voice a mere echo. Karen opens the book to the puzzle they'd been working on. His gaze follows her finger as she traces the words. His antennae twitch. "Would... you like to hear it?" she asks tentatively. He nods, his body still tense. Karen clears her throat, her voice gentle as she reads the words aloud. Plankton's eye drifts closed again, the sound of her voice a comforting lullaby. His hand relaxes in hers, the tension in his body dissipating. Karen reads on, her voice a steady rhythm that fills the silent room. The words from the puzzle book form a bridge between them, connecting them in a way that's both new and comfortingly familiar. Plankton's mind focuses on the patterns and sequences, the logical structure a sanctuary in the chaos. As she reads, Karen can feel his muscles relaxing further, his breathing deepening into sleep. The room's quietude wraps around them like a cocoon, their shared history a warm blanket. It's a stark contrast to the panic and confusion that had gripped him earlier. The puzzle's words weave themselves into a tapestry of comfort, each syllable a stitch in the fabric of their new reality. Plankton's love for order and patterns hasn't changed, but the way he interacts with them has. The autism has transformed his world, but not the essence of who he is. As Karen reads, her voice soothing his frayed nerves, she can't help but feel a sense of awe at his resilience. He's still her Plankton, the same being she's known for so long, but now he's also someone new, someone she's just beginning to understand. His mind operates on a different wavelength, one that she's eager to tune into. Then the door bell rings. It's Sandy! Plankton's antennae shoot up, his body stiffening in Karen's arms. "Who is it?" he asks, his voice sharp with anxiety. Karen's eyes dart to the clock on the wall. "It's just Sandy," she says, her voice calm. "It's okay." Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye searching hers for reassurance. "Sandy?" he repeats, his voice unsure. Karen nods, her smile gentle. "It's okay," she says, her voice a whisper. "We'll take this slow." Plankton's gaze locks onto Sandy as she enters the room, his eyes darting around to assess the new presence. Sandy watches him, her face a mix of curiosity and concern. "Howdy, Plankton," she says, her voice soft. "How are y'all?" Plankton's antennae twitch. He's heard her voice before, but it's different now. Too loud, too bright. He shrinks back into Karen's embrace. "Good," he says, his voice tight. "Good." Sandy's eyes dart between them, her smile fading. "What's wrong?" she asks, her voice gentle. Karen sighs. "Plankton's had an... accident," she says carefully. Sandy's eyes widen with shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "What happened?" Karen's gaze doesn't waver from Plankton's. "He's been diagnosed with Acquired Autism," she says softly. "From a head injury." Sandy's eyes widen in disbelief. "Oh no," she whispers. "I had no idea." Karen nods, her screen reflecting the weight of the last few hours. "It's a lot to take in," she says. "We're still learning." Sandy steps closer, her movements slow and deliberate. "What can I do?" she asks. Karen's shoulders slump with relief. "Just... be patient with him," she says. "He's still the same Plankton, but... different." Sandy nods solemnly. "I will," she promises.

Glossary Ablepharia Reduction or absence of the eyelids, esp. with continuous skin covering the eyes. Abrachia Absence of the arms (forelimbs). Acampsia Rigidity or inflexibility of a joint (ankylosis). Acardia Absence of the heart. Acaudia, acaudate Without a taıl (anury). Acephaly Agenesis of the head (acephalia). Acheiria Congenital absence of one or both hands (forepaws). Achondroplasia Skeletal dysplasia, resulting in short limbs and other defects, due to abnormal cartilage. Acorea Absence of the pupil of the eye. Acrania Partial or complete absence of the cranium. Acystia Absence of urinary bladder. Adactyly Absence of digits. Agenesis Lack of development of an organ. Aglossia Absence of the tóngue. Agnathia Absence of the lower jaw (mandible). Agyria Small braın lacking the normal convolutions of the cerebral cortex (lissencephaly). Amastia Absence of the mammae (breasts). Amelia Absence of a limb or limbs (see also ectromelia). Ametria Absence of the uterus. Anasarca Generalized edema. Anencephaly Absence of cranial vault, with the braın missing or greatly reduced. Anephrogenesis Absence of kidney(s). Aniridia Absence of the iris. Anisomelia Inequality between paired limbs. Ankyloglossia Partial or complete adhesion of the tóngue to the floor of the mouth. Ankylosis Abnormal fixation of a joint; implies bone fusion. Anodontia Absence of some or all of the teeth. Anonchia Absence of some or all of the nails. Anophthalmia Absent or vestigial eye(s). Anorchism Uni- or bilateral absence of the testes (anorchia). Anostosis Defective development of bone; failure to ossify. Anotia Absence of the external ear(s) (i.e., pinnae, auricles). Anovarism Absence of the ovaries (anovaria). Anury see Acaudia. Aphakia Absence of the eye lens. Aphalangia Absence of a digit or of one or more phalanges. Aplasia see Agenesis. Apodia Absence of one or both of the feet (paws). Aprosopia Partial or complete absence of the fac͘e. Arachnodactyly Abnormal length and slenderness of the digits—“spider-like.” Arrhinencephaly Congenital absence or hypoplasia of the brain’s olfactory lobe, and incomplete external olfactory organ development (arhinencephaly). Arrhinia Absence of the nose. Arthrogryposis Persistent flexure or contracture of a joint. Arthrogryposis multiplex congenita Syndrome distinguished by congenital fixation of the joints and muscle hypoplasia. Asplenia Absence of the spleen. Astomia Absence of the opening of the møuth. Atelectasis Incomplete expansion of a fetal lung or a portion of the lung at bırth. Athelia Absence of the nipple(s). Athymism Absence of the thymus (Athymia).

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

🤡 Clown Face 👹 Ogre 👺 Goblin 👻 Ghost 👽 Alien 👾 Alien Monster 🤖Robot 💋 Kiss Mark 💯 Hundred Points 💢 Anger Symbol 💥 Collision 💫 Dizzy 💦 Sweat Droplets 💨 Dashing Away 🕳️ Hole 💬 Speech Balloon 👁️‍🗨️ Eye In Speech Bubble 🗨️ Left Speech Bubble 🗯️ Right Anger Bubble 💭 Thought Balloon 💤 Zzz 👋 Waving Hand 🤚 Raised Back of Hand 🖐️ Hand With Fingers Splayed ✋ Raised Hand 🖖 Vulcan Salute 🫱 Rightwards Hand 🫲 Leftwards Hand 🫳 Palm Down Hand 🫴 Palm Up Hand 🫷 Leftwards Pushing Hand 🫸 Rightwards Pushing Hand 👌 OK Hand 🤌 Pinched Fingers 🤏 Pinching Hand ✌️ Victory Hand 🤞 Crossed Fingers 🫰 Hand With Index Finger And Thumb Crossed 🤟 Love-You Gesture 🤘 Sign of the Horns 🤙 Call Me Hand 👈 Backhand Index Pointing Left 👉 Backhand Index Pointing Right 👆 Backhand Index Pointing Up 👇 Backhand Index Pointing Down ☝️ Index Pointing Up 🫵 Index Pointing At The Viewer 👍 Thumbs Up 👎 Thumbs Down ✊ Raised Fist 👊 Oncoming Fist 🤛 Left-Facing Fist 🤜 Right-Facing Fist 👏 Clapping Hands 🙌 Raising Hands 🫶 Heart Hands 👐 Open Hands 🤲 Palms Up Together 🤝 Handshake 🙏 folded hands

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𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰!! 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝖠𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍/𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ ᴄᴀsᴇs ᴀɴᴅ sᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇs 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜 ғɪɴᴀɴᴄɪᴀʟ ᴄʀɪsᴇs 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 / 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫 ʜᴀʀᴅsʜɪᴘ’s 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝 ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ɪssᴜᴇs 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕/𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 ᴘʀᴏꜰɪᴛ 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ 𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎’𝚜 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

GREAT CHIP ix (Autistic author) Chip took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "I know I can't fix you, Dad," he said, his voice shaking. Plankton's antennae stopped moving, his eye focusing on Chip with an intensity that made him feel like he was being x-rayed. "You can't," he said, his voice firm. "But you can support me. You can be there without trying to change me." Chip nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Okay," he managed to say. "But I want to understand. I want to be here for you." Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye narrowing slightly. "Understand?" he echoed, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Sure, it's easy. Just imagine your brain's a pinball machine on tilt. Sounds fun, right?" Chip felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth despite the tension, which only adds to Plankton's anger. "Well, when you put it that way..." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye squinting at his son's response. "What?" he barked, his voice sharp. Chip tried to hold onto his smile, his heart racing. "I mean, if it's like a pinball machine, I can learn the patterns," he said, his tone carefully light. "I'm pretty good at video games, so..." Plankton's antennae waved wildly, his eye flashing with anger. "You think this is a game?" he shouted, his voice filling the room. "You think I enjoy being out of control? WELL THEN PERHAPS YOU CAN EXPLAIN THE FUN OF FORGETTING WHERE I AM FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!" Chip's smile dropped, his eyes wide with shock at his father's outburst. He took a step back, his hands up in a gesture of peace. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to make a joke of it, I just..." "You just what?" Plankton spat, his small body vibrating with rage. "You just don't get it! You can't get it! You're not autistic, you don't know what it's like to have your brain turn on you like that!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his heart breaking at the accusation. "I know, Dad," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm trying." Plankton's antennae quivered with the force of his rage. "You don't know," he said, his voice cold. "You can't know. All I see is a little child playing pretend, thinking he can understand what I go through! And yet you're the one asking for help! Face it, you're never going to get it and so don't expect ME to explain it to you!" Chip's eyes watered, the words hitting like a sledgehammer. He had never seen his father so furious, so unyielding. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I just want to help." Plankton's antennae stopped their wild movements, his eye focusing on his son with a cold, calculating gaze. "Help?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want to help by poking fun at my condition?" Chip's eyes searched his father's, his heart racing. "Dad, I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice trembling. "I just wanted to lighten the mood." Plankton's antennae waved, his eye still cold and distant. "Don't," he said, his voice like ice. "Don't try to lighten it. And don't you DARE make fun of it." Chip's eyes fell to the floor, his heart aching with the weight of his father's anger. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I di-" "You're sorry?" Plankton's voice was a whip crack in the silence. "Sorry doesn't cut it!" He slammed his fist on the table, causing their plates to rattle. "You think an apology is enough when you belittle what I go through?" Chip's eyes widened with fear as his dad's anger grew. He'd never seen Plankton like this before, his tiny body trembling with rage, his antennae thrashing like live wires. The kitchen felt suffocatingly small, the walls closing in. "Dad, please," Chip begged, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean it that way." But Plankton was beyond listening, his tiny body vibrating with fury. "You don't get to make jokes about this!" he roared, his antennae whipping about like agitated snakes. "You don't get to reduce it to a game you can win with a simple joke!" Chip took another step back, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen his father this enraged, and it scared him. "Dad, I-" he began, but Plankton's tirade didn't stop. "You think it's funny?" Plankton shouted, his antennae a blur of motion. "You think it's fun to live with this?" His voice grew louder, his words sharper. "You think it's easy to lighten up at the drop of a hat?" Chip's eyes filled with tears as his father's anger grew, his voice crackling like static. He hadn't meant to make light of his dad's condition, but now it seemed as if he'd made everything worse. "I'm sorry," he choked out, his hands shaking. Plankton's antennae whipped around his head, his eye bulging. "Sorry won't make it go away!" he screamed, his voice bouncing off the walls. "You think you can make it better with a laugh?" He slammed his fist down again, the sound like a gunshot. "It's not a joke, Chip!" Chip's eyes filled with tears as he watched his father's outburst, his heart pounding. He had never seen Plankton like this, his anger a living, breathing thing that filled the room like a toxic cloud. "I know," he whispered, his voice shaking. "But I want to help." Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. "Help?" he spat, his voice a whip. "You want to help? Then stop making it about you!" Chip's eyes grew wide with fear as he watched his father's anger boil over, his voice shaking. "Dad, please," he whispered, his heart racing. Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his body vibrating with uncontrollable rage. Suddenly, he grabbed the coffee mug from the table, flinging it across the room where it shattered against the wall. Shards of ceramic flew everywhere, puncturing the silence like shrapnel. "Dad, no!" Chip yelled, his heart racing faster than it ever had before. He had never seen Plankton this out of control. And Karen knew she had to act fast. Her voice was calm but firm as she approached Plankton. "Sweetie, it's okay," she said, her hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "Let's go to your workshop. You know that's your safe space." Plankton's antennae thrashed, his eye darting around the room, seeking anything to target his anger. "I don't want to go anywhere!" he roared, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. "It's not okay!" Karen stepped closer, her voice steady. "It's okay to be upset," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "But Chip..." But Plankton's rage was unstoppable. He lunged for the nearest object, a framed photo of Chip, his grip tightening as he raised it over his head, ready to smash it against the floor. Karen's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to defuse the situation before it got any worse. "Plankton, no," she pleaded, her voice steady. "Please, don't." But Plankton's rage had taken over, his body moving on autopilot as he swung the photo frame with all his might. It crashed to the floor, the shattering glass echoing in the small room. Chip's eyes grew round with shock, his body frozen in place as he watched his father's tantrum unfold. "Dad, please stop!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear. "You're scaring me!" But Plankton's rage was a runaway train, his antennae quivering with the intensity of his anger. He stomped over to the counter, grabbing a plate and flinging it against the wall, where it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. The sound was deafening, the force of the impact sending a shiver down Chip's spine. Karen stepped in front of Chip, placing herself between him and the storm of Plankton's fury. "Stop," she said firmly, her voice a calm oasis in the chaos. "You're scaring him." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye focusing on Karen with a mix of anger and confusion. For a moment, his body seemed to pause, his arm still mid-air, a kitchen towel gripped tightly in his hand. Then, with a roar, he threw it, the soft fabric landing limply on the floor. Karen's eyes searched her husband's, seeing the turmoil behind the rage. "Please, Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "Let's talk about this." But Plankton's anger was like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He picked up another mug, his arm winding up to throw it, when Chip suddenly stepped forward, his eyes locked on his father's. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "Please don't." Plankton's antennae paused, his arm still raised. "WHY?" he growled, his eye wild with anger. "You think you can just tell me what to do?" And then, with a sickly twisted satisfaction, Plankton hurled the mug in front of Chip, purposefully missing him. The room seemed to hold its breath as the mug spun through the air, the shattering of porcelain on the tile floor a symphony of pain. "Dad," Chip said, his voice shaking. "It's not about control. It's about us. Our fam..." But Plankton was beyond words, his rage a living entity that consumed him. He grabbed a toaster, his grip white-knuckled, and hurled it at the fridge, the metallic clang a cacophony in the small kitchen. "I DON'T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!" he bellowed, his antennae a blur.

JUST A TOUCH viii (Autistic author) After dinner, they retreat to the living room. Plankton's eye is glued to the puzzle book on the coffee table, his antennae twitching with unspoken longing. Karen picks it up, opening to a new page. "Would you like to work on this one together?" she asks, her voice gentle. He nods, his eye lighting up with the familiar challenge. Together, they tackle the puzzle, Karen's voice a gentle narration as Plankton's antennae move in time with her words. The patterns on the page hypnotize him, drawing him in. Plankton's antennae stop twitching, his focus solely on the words before him. And then the doorbell rings, breaking the spell. Karen's heart skips a beat, her hand tightening around the puzzle book. Plankton's head snaps up, his eye wide with alarm. "Who is it?" he asks, his voice sharp. Karen's eyes dart to the clock. "It's probably SpongeBob," she murmurs. Plankton's antennae perk up at the mention of his friend's name. "Party," he says, his voice hopeful. Karen nods, swiping at the tear that's managed to escape. "Yes, Plankton. SpongeBob's probably here to invite us to a party at the Krusty Krab. Do you think you're up for it?" she asks, her voice tentative. Plankton's antennae droop slightly. "Maybe," he says, his voice unsure. The thought of the bright lights and loud noises at the party sends a shiver of anxiety through his tiny body. But the prospect of seeing Sponge Bob is tempting. Karen sighs, understanding his hesitation. She walks to the door, her movements slow and deliberate. Sponge Bob's cheerful greeting floods the hallway. "Hey, Karen! Plankton! You guys coming to the party?" "Hey, Sponge Bob," she says, her smile forced. "What's the occasion?" Sponge Bob's face lights up like a Christmas tree, his spongy body bobbing with excitement. "Mr. Krabs is throwing a bash at the Krusty Krab!" he says, his hands gesturing wildly. "You guys are coming, right?" Plankton's antennae quiver at the mention of the party. The thought of the loud noises and the jostling crowd makes his stomach churn, but the prospect of seeing his friend shines like a beacon through the fog of his fear. Karen watches him, reading his emotions like a book. "It's okay," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "We can go for a little bit." Plankton nods, his antennae still. "Okay," he says, his voice barely a whisper. Karen can see the internal struggle playing out across his features. "Just stay as long as you're comfortable," she adds. "I'll just stay, you go with him." Sponge Bob's eyes light up. "Great!" he says, bending down to hold his hand. He holds his finger as they go. Plankton's grip is tight, his antennae flat against his head. The noise of the Krusty Krab is a cacophony of sounds, each one stabbing at his heightened senses. But the warmth of Sponge Bob's hand, the familiarity of their friendship, anchors him. Mr. Krabs sees Plankton clinging to Sponge Bob's side. "What's going on, laddie?" he asks, his voice gruff but concerned at the sight of their hands. Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze darting to the floor. Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow. "Why did ye invite Plankton?" he asks with suspicion. Sponge Bob's smile doesn't waver. "Well, he's always welcome..." Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow. "But he's our enemy.." Sponge Bob's smile doesn't waver. "He's my friend," he says firmly. "And I'm watching to make sure he won't steal any thing, boss.." Mr. Krabs' eyes soften, his suspicion giving way to reluctant acceptance. "Alright, but keep an eye on him," he says, his voice gruff. Sponge Bob nods, his grip on Plankton's hand tightening. Plankton's antennae quiver, his heart racing at the sudden influx of stimulation. The colorful lights, the smells of frying food, the laughter of the patrons—it's all so much. But Sponge Bob's hand is warm, a lifeline in the chaos. They move through the crowd, Plankton's steps small and careful. His eye darts around, trying to take it all in without getting overwhelmed. Sponge Bob's voice cuts through the noise like a knife. "You okay, buddy?" he asks, his smile concerned. Plankton nods, his voice a strained whisper. "Good," Sponge Bob says, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. As they reach the party area, Plankton's antennae start to wave erratically. The lights are too bright, the sounds too loud. He clutches Sponge Bob's hand tighter. Plankton takes a deep breath, his chest expanding with the effort. It's like trying to swim through jello, his senses on high alert. Sponge Bob feels the change in his friend's grip, his own heart racing with concern. "You okay, Plankton?" he asks again, his voice barely audible over the din. Plankton nods, his eye focused on the floor. The pattern of the tiles is soothing, grounding him amidst the chaos. A flash of pink darts through the crowd, and Plankton's antennas twitch. "Patrick!" Sponge Bob says, letting go of Plankton's hand. Plankton looks around and sees Squidward doing the dishes, but in a disorganized manner that Plankton needs to correct. The sight of the scattered plates, the water spots on the glasses, sends a jolt of anxiety through him. His compulsion to straighten, to organize, to make it right, is almost unbearable. So he goes to Squidward by the sink to interfere. Squidward glances up, his tentacles frozen mid-wash. "What are you doing here?" he snaps. Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze fixated on the mess. "Help," he says, his voice tight. Squidward rolls his eyes, grabbing another plate to wash as he ignores Plankton. Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye darting between the chaos and Squidward's dismissal. He's doing the dishes wrong and needs him to help! "Squidward, let Plankton assist," he says, his voice formal. Squidward sighs, shaking his head. "Look, I don't have time for this," he says, his tentacles moving rapidly. Plankton's body tenses, his need for meticulousness consuming him. As Plankton approaches Squidward, his movements are precise, almost mechanical. His antennae twitch in time with his racing thoughts, his need for order a silent scream in the noisy room. He holds out his hand, palm up. "Wash," he says, his voice firm. Squidward pauses, eyeing him warily. "What?" Plankton's gaze is unwavering, his voice steady. "Smudges. Wash dishes. Correct way." Squidward's grip on the plate slackens, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?" Plankton's antennae wave frantically. "Correct way," he repeats, his voice a desperate whisper. "No smudges. Wrong order." Squidward's tentacles still, his gaze sharpening. "What's gotten into you?" he asks, his voice filled with skepticism. Plankton's antennae twitch. "No smudges," he says again, his voice a mix of urgency and desperation. Squidward sets the plate down with a clatter. "What are you on about, Plankton?" But Plankton's focus is solely on the task at hand. He reaches for the dish soap, his movements precise. Squidward watches him, his expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "What's going on?" he asks, his voice gruff. Plankton's antennas twitch, his eye darting to Squidward. "Just helping," he says, his voice flat as he puts the now clean dish away. But he sees imperfections on some of the clean dishes, handing them over for Squidward to wash as he straightens up the other plates. Squidward's eyebrows furrow, his gaze flicking between Plankton and the dishes. "What are you doing?" he asks again. Plankton's grip on the towel tightens, his body vibrating with the need for perfection. "It's not right," he says, his voice strained. "Has to be right." "Those I've cleaned!" Squidward says as Plankton puts them in the sink for him to wash over again. "Squidward look. No..." But before Plankton can finish, Squidward snatches the plate from his tentacles. "Look, I don't have time for your... whatever this is," he says, his voice gruff. He takes it and haphazardly shoves it with smaller plates. Plankton can't take the misalignment! Plankton's antennae stand on end, his eye wide with horror. "No!" he says, his voice rising. "Wrong order!" His hands shake as he tries to grab the plate, his mind racing with the need to correct the mistake. Squidward pulls away, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. "Plankton, what's wrong with you?" he snaps. "Plankton's centrum semiovale has restricted inhibitory synaptic transmission!" Plankton's voice is a mix of panic and frustration, his antennae waving wildly. Squidward's eyes narrow, his grip on the plate tightening. "What are you talking about? I am not going to wash this again," he says, his tone firm. Squidward's words hit a nerve, triggering a cascade of emotions in Plankton. "It's not about Squidward!" he says, his voice sharp. "It's about the order! Cleanliness..." "PLANKTON I SAID NO!" Squidward yells, startling him as he turns back to the sink.

NEW REALITY viii (Autistic author) "I don't understand," she says, her voice filled with distress. Plankton's hand clenches, his body vibrating with tension. "Numbers," he repeats, his voice edging on a scream. "They make quiet." Hanna's eyes widen, her smile fading to a look of horror. "But Plankton," she says, her voice shaking, "it's just a clock." But her words are like fuel on the fire of his distress. He steps closer to the clock, his hand outstretched as if to will it to silence. "Numbers," he whispers, his voice a plea. "They make quiet." Hanna's eyes fill with sympathy, but her words only worsen his agitation. "Plankton, it's just a clock," she says, reaching out to touch him. Karen's heart hammers in her chest as she sees his body tense even further. "Hanna, don't," she warns, her voice tight. "Please don't touch him right now." But Hanna doesn't hear her, her own voice rising with frustration. "It's just a clock, Plankton," she repeats, her hand covering his shoulder. "Nothing's going to hurt you.." The touch sends him spiraling, his body convulsing with overstimulation. "No touch!" he screams, his hand slapping at her arm, his face a mask of fear and anger. But Plankton's outburst has ignited something in Hanna, a spark of anger. "Why can't you just be normal?" she snaps, her voice echoing through the tense room. Karen's heart breaks as Plankton's eye goes wide, his body jerking away from her. "Hanna, please," she says, her voice tight with pain. But Hanna's words keep coming, a barrage of misunderstanding. "You can't just ignore us," she says, her voice rising. "You have to interact with the world." Plankton's body recoils, his skin seemingly vibrating with each of her words. "Interact," he echoes, his voice strained. Karen's heart is in her throat. "Hanna, please," she says, her voice tight with pain. "You're not helping." But Hanna's eyes are glassy with frustration. "How can I help if he won't even look at me?" she asks, ignoring the desperation in Plankton's gaze as she holds his arms tightly. Karen's eyes plead with her, but Hanna's grip doesn't loosen. "Let go," Plankton whimpers, his voice tight with tension. Hanna's smile is forced, her grip unyielding. "Look at me, Plankton," she says, her voice laced with irritation. "You can't just..." But her words cut him like knives. "Look away," he murmurs, his voice strained, his body begging for the pressure to ease. Hanna's smile falters, her grip tightening. "Why can't you just look at me?" she asks, her voice edged with annoyance. Plankton's breath hitches, his antennae drooping. "Can't," he whispers, his gaze flickering between her and Karen. Hanna's eyes narrow, her grip on his arms tightening. "You can," she insists, her voice firm. "Just..." But Plankton's whimpers grow louder, his body shaking with the effort to pull away. Hanna's smile fades, her grip tightening in frustration. "Why can't you just be like everyone else?" she asks, her tone no longer gentle. Plankton's whimpers become sobs, his body shaking with the effort to break free. Karen's eyes are wet with unshed tears as she watches the scene unfold, her heart breaking for him. Hanna's grip remains firm, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance. "Why are you doing this?" she demands, her voice sharp. "You're just being difficult." Plankton's sobs grow more desperate, his body twisting in her grasp. "Let go," he whispers, his voice a strained plea. Hanna's eyes flash with irritation. "Why ca--" Her words are cut off by Karen's firm voice. "Hanna, please," she says, stepping between them. "You're upsetting him." But Hanna's confusion turns to anger. "How can I not be upset?" she retorts, her grip on Plankton's arms tightening. "He won't even..." Her words are cut off by Karen's firm voice. "Please, Hanna," she says, her eyes pleading. "You don't understand." Suddenly, Plankton's legs buckle, his body going slack as Hanna finally releases his arms. He crumples to the floor. He's retreating, Karen realizes, her heart racing. He's retreating into himself. Karen's eyes fill with fear as she watches him, his sobs subsiding into quiet whimpers. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a prayer. Hanna's face falls, her anger replaced with shock. "What's wrong with him?" she asks, her voice trembling. Karen's eyes are wet with unshed tears as she crouches beside him. "It's a condition," she says, her voice tight with frustration. "He needs time and space to process everything." Hanna's face crumples, her hands going to her mouth. "I didn't know," she whispers, her eyes wide with regret. "I'm sorry." Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton's huddled form. "It's not your fault," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "But we all have to learn." Hanna nods, her eyes brimming with tears. Karen wraps her arms around Plankton, her touch gentle. "It's okay," she murmurs. "I'm here." He trembles against her, sobbing. Hanna stands there, apology etched in every line of her face. "What can I do?" she whispers. Karen looks up, her eyes wet. "Just give us a moment," she says, her voice a gentle command. Hanna nods, backing away slowly, her eyes on Plankton. "Okay," she murmurs, the weight of her words heavy in the silent room. Karen holds Plankton tightly, his body a trembling mass of emotion. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a soothing balm. "You're safe." He nests his head into her shoulder, his whimpers softening to quiet sobs. The room feels thick with their shared pain, the air charged with the tension of misunderstanding. Hanna's eyes dart around, looking for anything that might soothe him. Karen's gaze meets hers, a silent plea for understanding. "It's called autism," Karen says softly, her voice a gentle explanation. Hanna's eyes widen, her face a canvas of realization. "Oh," she whispers, the word a soft exhalation of breath. Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton's tear-stained face. "It's a spectrum," she says, her voice calm and steady. "And he's on a part of it that's very sensitive to stimulation." Hanna nods slowly, her understanding growing. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice full of regret. "I didn't know." Karen's grip tightens around Plankton's shoulders. "It's okay," she murmurs. "We're all still learning." Hanna nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "I'll go," she says, her voice small. "I didn't mean..." Karen nods, her gaze steady. "Thank you," she whispers. "We can talk soon." Hanna nods, her eyes filled with sadness. "Of course," she says, turning to leave. The door clicks shut behind her, leaving Karen and Plankton in the heavy silence. Karen's arms remain around him, her body a protective cocoon against the harshness of the world. Plankton's sobs slowly ease into quiet sniffs, his body still trembling in her embrace. Her heart aches for the pain he's feeling, the fear that Hanna's misunderstanding has brought to the surface. "I'm sorry," she whispers to him, her voice shaking. Plankton's trembles begin to subside, his breathing evening out. He pulls back, his eye searching hers. "No," he murmurs, his voice hoarse from crying. "Not at fault." Karen's eyes fill with relief, her grip on him loosening slightly. "It's okay," she says, her voice a gentle caress. "We just need to find ways to help you." Plankton nods, his eye fluttering shut. Karen's mind races with thoughts of what more she can do, what she can say to make him feel safe. "We'll get through this," she says, her voice a promise. "Together." Plankton's eye opens, his gaze meeting hers. "Together," he echoes, his voice a whisper. Karen's heart swells with love for him, her eyes shimmering with determination. "We'll find what works," she says, her voice firm. Plankton nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "Tired.." Karen's heart breaks at the exhaustion etched into his features. "I got you, you can rest," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. They move to the couch, Plankton's body curling into her side. She wraps the weighted blanket around him, still within their embrace. His breathing slows, his body relaxing against hers. The whirring fan above offers a steady rhythm, a lullaby for his troubled mind. Karen's hand strokes his back in gentle circles, her thumb tracing patterns that seem to soothe his nerves. The fan's steady whir fills the room, a calming symphony that lulls Plankton's racing thoughts to a crawl. Karen's thumb moves in soothing circles on his back, each pass sending a ripple of comfort through him. Plankton's breathing evens, his body slack against hers. The fan's steady hum is a lullaby in the quiet room, a metronome for his racing thoughts. Karen's hand continues its soothing dance across his back, his eye finally closing. The room is a cocoon of silence, the fan's whisper the only sound breaking the stillness. Plankton's breathing slows, his body melts into Karen's embrace. Her hand continues its gentle caress, a metronome of comfort as he finally surrenders to sleep.

CHIP AND FAIL ix (Autistic author) Chip stared at his dad, his mind racing. He had always known his dad was different, but he had never understood why. Now, as he watched the man he idolized quivering with overstimulation, he couldn't help but feel a deep sadness and anger. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice tight. Plankton's antennae shot up, his face contorting with a sudden surge of anger. "ENOUGH!" he roared, the sound exploding from his chest like a bomb, his antennae quivering with each syllable. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" Chip recoiled, his eyes wide with shock. He had never heard his dad so angry before, never seen him so out of control. "Dad, I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "You're sorry?" Plankton spat, his antennae vibrating with rage. "You don't get it, Chip. You never will." His voice was a storm, his words cutting through the tension in the room. "You think I don't want to hear your stories? You think I don't want to be a part of your life?" His body trembled with the force of his emotions, his eye blazing with pain. Chip took a step back, his hands up in defense. "Dad, no, I..." But Plankton was a tornado, his anger a living thing in the room. "You think I don't want to connect with you?" he shouted, his antennas whipping around. "You think I don't love you?" His voice broke, his body shaking with the effort of holding back his tears. Chip stared at his dad, his eyes like saucers. "But Dad, you always push me away," he protested, his voice tiny in the face of Plankton's fury. "You never want me to touch you or..." "You just let me explain!" Plankton shouted, cutting him off. His antennae were a blur with the force of his emotions, his eye flashing. "You always keep pushing and pushing, and it's too much!" His words were a volley of thunder, each one striking Chip like a physical blow. Chip took a step back, his eyes filling with tears. "But Dad, I just want to be close to you," he choked out, his voice a mere wisp. "I don't understand why you can't..." "Because you don't listen!" Plankton's voice was a whip, slicing through the air. "You don't see the storm in my head, the way every touch feels like a storm, every sound a siren!" His antennae quivered with rage, his body tense. "You think it's easy for me? That I don't want to be there for you?" Chip took another step back, his hands up in defense. "I didn't know," he whispered, his eyes brimming with tears. "I just wanted to tell you about my week." He says reaching out with a trembling hand, but Plankton's swatting Chip's hand away. "Don't. Touch. Me!" Plankton roared, his body trembling with rage. "Can't you see that?" His voice was a knife, sharp and unforgiving. "And don't you DARE say you're better off without me!" His eye blazed with a fierce protectiveness that Chip had never seen before. Chip's hand hovered in the air, his fingers curling into a fist. "But Dad," he choked out, his voice thick with unshed tears, "I just want to be close to you." He took a step closer... "NO!" Plankton shouted, his antennae snapping like whips. "You don't get to invade my space like that!" His body was a live wire, his anger a force field that repelled Chip's reaching hand. "You think it's funny?" His voice was a maelstrom of pain and fury. Chip's eyes filled with tears, his hand dropping to his side. "I just wanted to help," he murmured, his voice tiny in the face of his father's storm.

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM ix (Autistic author) The silence in the room was suffocating, the echo of Mr. Krabs' footsteps the only sound as he retreated to his home, his heart feeling heavier than his treasure chest. Sponge Bob's heart torn between pity and frustration. He looked at Plankton, his friend's gaze still locked on the chessboard, his body a portrait of rejection. "Plankton," he whispered, his voice full of pain. But Plankton didn't move, his antennas twitching slightly. Sponge Bob felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes brimming with tears. He didn't know what to do, what to say, to make things right. He glanced at Karen, her lights dimming slightly with sadness. "I'll leave you two to talk." With a nod to Sponge Bob, she left the room, leaving them alone in the stifling silence. Sponge Bob approached Plankton cautiously, his heart pounding. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Plankton's antennas twitched slightly, but he didn't look up. "Nothing," he murmured, his voice flat. "Cannot change." Sponge Bob's eyes welled with tears. "I mean right now, I can do what you want me to," he pleaded. "You're my best friend, Plankton." Plankton's antennas lifted, his single eye meeting Sponge Bob's gaze. "We can talk, we can play a game, we can watch some thing..." Plankton's antennas remained still, his expression unreadable. "Watch," he said finally, his voice devoid of enthusiasm. Sponge Bob nodded, his heart heavy with disappointment. He knew his friend needed space, and he would give it to him. The screen flickered to life. Sponge Bob felt a pang of despair, his hand hovering over the remote. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice trembling. Plankton nodded, his gaze unfocused. "Okay," he murmured. Sponge Bob selected a nature documentary, knowing Plankton. They sat in silence as the soothing sounds of the ocean filled the room, the TV's blue light washing over them. Plankton's body relaxed slightly, his antennas still as he watched. Sponge Bob felt a tiny spark of hope when Plankton scoots up next to him. The documentary played on, the narrator's soothing voice detailing the lives of jellyfish. Sponge Bob watched Plankton from the corner of his eye, his heart aching at the sight of his friend's vacant gaze. He reached over and gently placed his hand on Plankton's shoulder, his touch tentative. Plankton didn't flinch, his eye never leaving the screen. Sponge Bob swallowed the lump in his throat and whispered, "I'm here for you." Plankton's antenna twitched slightly, a barely perceptible acknowledgment. The silence stretched on, the only sound the rhythmic pulse of the jellyfish through the speakers. Sponge Bob's hand remained on Plankton's shoulder, his thumb making small, comforting circles. As the documentary droned on, Plankton's antennas gradually lost their rigidity, drooping slightly with each passing moment. The rhythmic pulse of the jellyfish on the screen seemed to lull him into a state of quiet contemplation. His gaze grew unfocused, his eyelid fluttered once, then twice, before finally settling shut. Plankton's tiny frame relaxed into SpongeBob's side, breathing evening out. His hand remained on Plankton's shoulder, his thumb continuing to make small circles as his friend slipped into slumber. When SpongeBob turned off the tv, he noticed Plankton's head drooped to the side with a soft snore, his body gone slack. Plankton was asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. The yellow sponge felt a wave of relief wash over him as he realized that his friend had finally found some peace. He carefully scooted Plankton closer. He knew Plankton needed his rest, especially with his brain trying to adjust to this new reality. Karen came back in to see Plankton's antennas limp and Sponge Bob's hand on his shoulder. She nodded gently at the sponge, who looked up and sighed. "It's ok to let him rest. He's been through a lot." She says. Sponge Bob nods, his grip on Plankton's shoulder tightening slightly. "I know. I just want to help," he replies, his voice barely audible over Plankton's soft snores. Karen's lights flicker gently. "You are helping by being here, Sponge Bob. Just give him time and space to adjust." Sponge Bob nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping face. "I'll do anything for him." Karen's light blips. "I know you will. But for now, let's get him to his bed." Sponge Bob nods, carefully scooping up Plankton, cradling him like a fragile shell. He carries him to the bedroom. He lays him down, tucking the blanket under his chin with extra care. Plankton's snores soften into a gentle purr, his antennas twitching slightly in his sleep. Sponge Bob pulls up a chair beside the bed, his eyes never leaving his friend's face. He feels a heavy responsibility, a desire to be there for Plankton in ways he's never had to before. As the minutes tick by, Sponge Bob begins to feel the weight of the day's events. His eyes grow heavy, his body swaying with exhaustion. Despite his resolve, he can't keep his lids open any longer. With a yawn, he collapses into the chair beside Plankton's bed, his head lolling to the side. His eyes close. Plankton opens his eye to find Sponge Bob asleep next to him. Plankton's gaze lingers on the sponge, his expression unreadable. He moves his antennas slightly, testing the boundaries of his new reality. The weight of Mr. Krabs' apology and his own words hang heavy on him. With a deep sigh, he knew that his relationship with Mr. Krabs was irrevocably changed, but he hadn't expected the sadness that accompanied the realization. He watched as Sponge Bob's chest lifted and fell in a steady rhythm, his grip on the blanket tight. A strange warmth spread through Plankton's heart, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Sponge Bob had always been his friend, even when he was at his worst. But this... This was different. This was someone sticking by him, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. The warmth grew, spreading through Plankton like a gentle current. It was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. He had felt it before, with Karen. Yet this was a different kind of warmth. This was friendship, pure and untainted by the greed that usually consumed him before... He studied Sponge Bob's peaceful face, his mind racing. This sponge, his enemy's best worker, had shown more kindness and understanding in the past few hours than anyone else in his life, other than Karen. And for what? A chance at the Krabby formula? No, for him. For Plankton. The warmth grew stronger, pushing out the coldness that usually dominated his thoughts. He felt a strange urge to reciprocate, to be... nicer. Sponge Bob stirred, his eyes fluttering open. "Plankton?" he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. Plankton's antennas lift slightly, his single eye focusing on the yellow form beside him. "Yes, Sponge Bob," he replies, his voice gentler than before. Sponge Bob sits up with a start. "How long have you been up?" he asks, his eyes searching Plankton's face for any sign of pain or distress. Plankton's antennas twitch slightly. "Not long," he murmurs, his gaze lingering on Sponge Bob. Sponge Bob's expression is a mixture of relief and concern. "Do you want to talk?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's antennas wave slightly, a tiny nod of his head. "Talk," he echoes, his voice soft. Sponge Bob takes a deep breath, trying to form the words he desperately wants to say. "I just... I want you to know that I'm here for you, Plankton," he says, his voice shaking. Plankton's antennas wave slightly, and his eye narrows. "Here for Plankton," he echoes, his voice flat. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears. "Yes, Plankton," he whispers. "Always." Plankton's antennas twitch again, the word "always" echoing in his mind. "Always," he murmurs.

GREAT CHIP viii (Autistic author) When Plankton finally came out Chip approached with caution. He didn't want to scare his dad, didn't want to cause another seizure. "Hey, Dad," he said softly. "How are you feeling today?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye flicking towards Chip. "Tired," he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep. "But okay." Chip felt his chest tighten with relief. He'd been worried about his dad all night, scared that another seizure would strike without warning. "Can we talk?" Chip asked, his voice gentle as he approached Plankton. He didn't want to push, but he needed to make sure they were okay. Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye searching Chip's face. "Of course," he said, his voice still groggy. He sat down at the kitchen table, his body language open but cautious. Chip took a deep breath, his heart racing with the need to get this right. "Dad, I know last night was... scary," he began, his voice shaky. "But I want to be there for you." Plankton's antennae waved slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and fatigue. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. Chip took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I mean, I want to understand your seizures and what you go through," he said, his eyes never leaving his father's. "So that maybe I can help." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye narrowing slightly. "What do you want to know?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and caution. Chip's eyes searched his father's, his thoughts racing. "Everything," he said, his voice earnest. "What happens before, during, and after. What you feel, what you see..." Plankton's antennae twitched, his face scrunching up slightly. "Why?" he snapped, his voice sharp. "What's the point of reliving it?" Chip took a step back, surprised by his father's sudden irritation. "I just want to understand," he said, his voice tentative. Plankton's antennae waved erratically, his eye flashing. "It's not a show, Chip," he snapped. "It's not something to be poked and prodded at." Chip felt his cheeks flush with heat, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "I'm not trying to pry," he said, his voice shaking with frustration. "I just want to help!" Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye narrowed. "You can't help," he said, his voice cold. "You don't get it." Chip's heart sank, feeling the distance between them growing wider. "But Dad," he began, his voice trembling. "I'm trying." Plankton's antennae twitched rapidly, his face a mask of agitation. "You can't," he said, his voice clipped. "You don't know what it's like!" Chip felt a wave of frustration crash over him, his hands clenching into fists. "That's why I'm asking!" he exclaimed. "I'm not trying to make it about me!" Plankton's focusing solely on Chip. "You don't get it," he said, his voice softening slightly. "It's not about you, but it's also not something you can fix." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, his heart racing with a mix of anger and hurt. He knew Plankton wasn't trying to be cruel, but the words stung. "I just want to be there for you," he said, his voice shaky. "To make sure you're okay." Plankton's antennae twitched rapidly, his eye flashing with agitation. "I don't need you to fix me," he snapped, his voice sharp as a knife. "I just need you to leave me alone sometimes." Chip took a step back, his eyes watering with the sting of his father's words. "I just want..." "I know what you want," Plankton cut in, his antennae vibrating with irritation. "But you can't fix this, Chip. It's not a puzzle you can solve with a pat on the back or a hug." The room grew tense, the air thick with unspoken words. Chip felt his throat tighten, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He knew his father's snappy tone was a defense mechanism, a way to keep the world at bay when it all became too much. But it still hurt.

CHIP AND FAIL viii (Autistic author) Karen's hand was a lifeline, her voice a gentle guide. "Chip," she called out. "We need to talk." Chip stopped in the hallway. Why was Dad acting so weird? He turned to face his mother, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "What's wrong with him?" he demanded, his voice filled with accusation. "He doesn't deserve to be called my dad if he can't even..." But that's when it happens. That's when Plankton started hyperventilating, and that's when Plankton can't take anymore. That's when it happened. Chip's words were like a match striking too close to a powder keg. Plankton's breath hitched, his antennae twitching erratically. Karen rushed to his side, her screen wide with concern. "Babe, you okay?" she asked, her voice a gentle caress. She holds her arms out to catch Plankton. But Plankton's mind was a whirlwind, his body a live wire. He couldn't answer, couldn't find the words to explain the chaos that was his reality. His antennae trembled as he struggled to breathe, his body rigid with fear. He had hoped to keep this hidden, to protect Chip from the truth, but it was too much. The storm inside him grew wilder, each breath a battle. Chip's eyes searched his father's, his own confusion mirroring the chaos in the room. "What's wrong with you?" he repeated, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. But Plankton's mind was a tornado, his thoughts swirling too fast for words. He could feel his chest constrict, his heart pounding like a drum. Karen watched her son's screen, seeing the hurt in his eyes, the misunderstanding etched deep. She took a deep breath, knowing the moment had arrived. "Chip," she began, her voice soft but firm, "there's something you need to know about your dad." Chip looked at her, his expression a mix of anger and confusion. "What could possibly make him act like this?" he spat, poking Plankton hard. "Why did you marry him? He's just nothing but..." "Chip," Karen said firmly, taking his hands in hers, when Plankton starts to wheeze heavily, his body constricting with each shallow breath. Chip's anger faded, replaced with fear as he watched his father's distress. "Dad?" he whispered, his voice shaking. Plankton's body trembled as his legs gave out, collapsing into the embrace Karen had been ready to offer. "Dad?" Chip's voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. He had never seen his father so overwhelmed, so vulnerable. Karen knelt beside Plankton, her hands gentle on his trembling body. "It's okay, love," she whispered, her voice a salve on his raw nerves. "Just breathe." Chip's eyes were glued to his father with fear. He had never seen him like this before, his body a stranger's under his own touch. "What's wrong with him?" he asked again, his voice shaking. Karen took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she smoothed back Plankton's antennae. "Chip, your dad was born with something..." Her voice trailed off, the words stuck in her throat like a piece of unchewed food. Chip's eyes searched hers, his confusion a storm cloud gathering. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice small and scared. Karen took a deep breath, her heart aching for both her son and her husband. "Your dad," she began, her voice shaking with the weight of her words, "was born different, Chip." Plankton's eye flickered open, filled with a mixture of fear and hope. "What do you mean, 'different'?" Chip asked, his voice small and scared. He had never heard his mother talk about his dad this way before. Karen took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat. "When your dad was born, Chip," she began, her screen filled with a sadness that threatened to spill over, "his brain was injured during delivery. When the doctors pulled him out, they didn't realize how fragile he was and they..." Her voice trailed off, the memory too painful to recount. "They had to get him out and applied too much force on his head, which caused some damage. It gave him a type of condition, where he's on what's called autism spectrum." Chip's eyes widened, his grip on his shirt tightening. "But that's not his fault, right?" he asked, his voice a hopeful whisper. He didn't want to think of his dad as damaged or broken. Karen nodded, her screen filled with love for both her husband and her son. "No, honey, it's not his fault," she said, her voice steady. "It's just how he's. And it's not something you can see or touch. It's like having a radio in your head that's always tuned to the loudest station, and sometimes the static gets too much."

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY ix (Autistic author) With newfound enthusiasm, Plankton began to organize the mini jellyfish in the box, his antennae quivering as he meticulously arranged them by species and size. Each figurine was carefully placed, his movements deliberate and precise. "Jellyfish... special," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a hint of wonder. Sandy watched, her eyes shining with admiration. "You're really good at this," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "Good at jellyfish," Plankton murmured, antennae waving slightly with pride. "Plankton's special place." Sandy nodded, her tail swishing with excitement. "Yes," she said, her voice filled with encouragement. "You have a special place in the world, Plankton, and jellyfish are your thing." As Plankton continued to organize his new collection, his movements grew more animated, his antennae quivering with purpose. Each jellyfish was placed with such precision that it was as if they were living beings in a miniature ocean. His eye never left his task, his mind fully engrossed in the world of jellyfish. It was as if by organizing them, he was somehow bringing order to his own chaotic thoughts. "Plankton," Karen said softly, "I know this is a big change for you. But you know what? Maybe this is your chance to do something amazing with your life." Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. "Let's go outside." Plankton looked up from his box, his antennae twitching with excitement. "Outside?" "Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her smile warm. They made their way outside, with Plankton carrying his precious box of jellyfish figurines, his antennae quivering with excitement at the prospect of sharing his knowledge. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over Bikini Bottom as the trio strolled down the sidewalk. Their peaceful evening was abruptly interrupted when they rounded the corner to find Mr. Krabs, his eyes wide with surprise at the sight of Plankton in the company of Karen and Sandy. "What's all this?" he barked, voice gruff. Plankton's antennae drooped slightly, but he held his ground, his box of jellyfish figurines clutched tightly. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, monotone voice cracking. Mr. Krabs squinted at Plankton, his claw resting on his chin. "Well, if it isn't the little troublemaker," he said with a gruff chuckle. "What brings you out of the Chum Bucket?" Karen's forced a smile. "We're just out for a little stroll Krabs," she said. "Plankton's found a new hobby." Mr. Krabs's eyes narrowed, curiosity piqued by the unusual sight of Plankton engaged in something other than his usual Krabby Patty obsession. "What kind of hobby?" he asks. Plankton's antennae quivered as he held up his box of jellyfish figurines. "Jellyfish," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a hint of pride. Mr. Krabs's eyebrows shot up. "Jellyfish?" he repeated, his voice incredulous. "What's gotten into you, Plankton? You're not planning to use them for some crazy Krabby Patty scheme are you?" Plankton's antennae twitched, but he remained calm. "No, Mr. Krabs," he murmured, voice firm. "Plankton loves jellyfish." Mr. Krabs squinted at him, his claw tapping against his chin as he tried to process this new piece of information. "You love jellyfish?" he said, his voice filled with skepticism. "What's so special about jellyfish?" Plankton's antennae waved slightly as he thought about how to explain it. "Jellyfish... unique," he murmured. "Different. Like Plankton." Mr. Krabs's eyes narrowed. "Different, you say?" he repeated, his claw stroking his chin as he contemplated this revelation. "Well I'll be a barnacle's uncle. I never knew you had an interest in any thing but stealing me secret recipe." Karen stepped forward, her tentacles waving gently. "Mr. Krabs, when Plankton hit his head because of you and when I took him to the hospital, well let's just say things are a little different now." Mr. Krabs's eyes widened, his claw freezing mid-stroke. "Different? What do you mean, different?" Karen's tentacles waved in a calming gesture. "Plankton was diagnosed with autism after the incident with your cash register," she said gently. Mr. Krabs's eyes bulged, and his claws clutched at his chest dramatically. "Autism? What?" he bellowed. Sandy stepped forward, her voice firm and steady. "It's ok, Mr. Krabs," she said, her eyes on the crab. "It just means Plankton's brain works differently than ours. But he's still the same Plankton we know, and he's found something that makes him really happy." Mr. Krabs's eyes darting between Plankton and his box of jellyfish. "Well, I'll be a sea cucumber's uncle," he murmured, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. As they talked, a group of kids playing catch nearby accidentally bumped into Plankton, their laughter and shouts of excitement cutting through the air. In an instant, the delicate balance of jellyfish figurines was disrupted, and they spilled out of the box, scattered across the sidewalk. The children's ball rolled into the mix, coming to a stop. Plankton froze on the ground, antennae shooting straight up, eye unblinking as he stared at the chaos before him. The children looked up, their laughter fading as they took in the scene. "Plankton?" Karen's voice was gentle, but it was lost, mind racing as he tried to make sense of the sudden disarray. The children stared, their laughter dying in their throats as they saw the tiny plankton's distress. One brave soul reached out to help, but pulled back when Plankton didn't react. Karen and Sandy exchanged a worried glance. "Plankton?" Karen called again, her voice a little louder this time. The children watched, their curiosity piqued by the sight. One by one, they cautiously approached, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and fascination. "What's wrong with him?" a young fish whispered to another, their eyes darting from Plankton to the scattered jellyfish figurines. "I think he's in shock," Krabs murmured, his own eyes filled with concern. "The disorganization of his jellyfish is really bothering him.." Sandy nodded, her eyes on the children. "Why don't you guys help Plankton?" she suggested. "You can put the jellyfish back in the box. Let's all put them back the way he had them!" The children looked at each other, then back at Plankton, who was still frozen on the ground. Slowly, they began to pick up the scattered figurines, their little hands moving with care as they tried to mimic the order Plankton had created. They whispered to each other, comparing notes and asking questions, their curiosity overcoming their initial fear. Karen watched them work, her tentacles relaxing slightly as she saw the concern in their eyes. "Good job," she murmured, her voice gentle. "You're all helping out." The children nodded, their eyes never leaving Plankton as they carefully placed each jellyfish back in the box. They worked in silence, their movements a mix of awe and caution. The sight of Plankton's intense focus on his jellyfish had left an impression on them, and they were determined to help him restore order to his miniature world. One by one, the jellyfish returned to their spots, each figure a silent testament to Plankton's knowledge and passion. The children looked at each other, then back at Plankton, who hadn't moved a muscle, still rigid, his eye unblinking. "Is he okay?" the bravest one asked, holding out a tentative fin. Plankton remained unmoving, his antennae quivering slightly. The children's gentle whispers and the soft patter of their flippers on the pavement was the only sound as they worked. The last jellyfish was placed back into the box, the figure of Burgessomedusa phasmiformis nestling into its spot among the others. The children held their breath, waiting for some sign from Plankton that he noticed their efforts. Slowly, Plankton's antennae lowered, and he blinked once, then twice. He looked down into the box, his eyes scanning the neat rows of jellyfish. The children watched as a slight smile graced his lips, and he let out a sigh of relief. The children beamed, their eyes shining with pride, stepping back to give him space. Mr. Krabs, still looking slightly stunned, took a tentative step forward. "Plankton?" he asked, his voice gruff but concerned. Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he looked up, his one eye focusing on the crab. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, his monotone voice still present but with a hint of warmth. Mr. Krabs's claw hovered over the box, unsure of what to say. "I had no idea Plankton," he murmured, his eyes on the meticulously organized jellyfish. "It's ok," Plankton said, his monotone voice tinged with sadness. "Mr. Krabs didn't know." Karen stepped in gently. "Krabs is just surprised," she explained. "He's never seen you like this before." Mr. Krabs nodded, his expression softening slightly. "That's right," he said, his voice no longer filled with anger. "I've never seen you so... focused on something other than Krabby Patties." "Jellyfish special," Plankton murmured, his antennae waving slightly. "I didn't mean to cause you brain damage, Plankton.." Mr. Krabs says. "It's okay," Plankton murmured, his antennae twitching slightly.

GREAT CHIP xiv (Autistic author) "I know it's hard, but I need you to understand that. Sometimes, I may not seem okay, but that's because it's all too much," Plankton explained, his voice a soft rumble. "But you know what?" His antennae twitched slightly, a glimmer of humor in his eye. "Sometimes, I make jokes about it." Chip's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd never heard his father joke about his condition before. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice tentative. Plankton's antennae twitched with a tiny smirk. "Well, when other people do it, it feels like they're laughing at me, not with me," he said, his voice a fragile thread of self-awareness. "But when I make jokes, it's like I'm the one in control of the narrative. It's my way of saying, 'I know I'm different, and that's okay.'" Chip nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "So it's about self-acceptance?" he ventured. Plankton's antennae bobbed slightly. "Exactly," he said, his voice a little stronger. "Only I can decide how I want to be seen, how my condition is talked about. And I'd rather have other people respect me by making sure I'm comfortable than by just simply disregarding it." Chip nodded, his eyes shining with newfound respect for his father's strength. "I'll try to understand, Dad," he promised, his voice earnest. "And I'll just... I'll just be more careful." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his gaze meeting Chip's with a melding of sadness and gratitude. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the fan's hum. The silence in the room was no longer oppressive but filled with a newfound understanding, a gentle peace that seemed to soothe the jagged edges of their recent conflict. Plankton's antennae stopped twitching, his body relaxing into the embrace of the plush blanket. "I just want to rest," he whispered, his voice a soft echo in the stillness. "Could you... could you just stay here? Until I fall asleep?" Chip nodded, his heart swelling with love and regret. He sat there, his body tense with the need to do more, but he knew that sometimes, the most important thing was just to be present. He watched as Plankton's breathing grew steadier, the shadows on the ceiling dancing to the rhythm of the fan's soft hum. His father's antennae lay still against his forehead, no longer a testament to his agitation but a symbol of his peaceful slumber. The room was a sanctuary of silence, the only sound the soft whisper of the comforter as Plankton moved slightly under its weight. Chip felt a mix of emotions—fear, guilt, love—but above all, a renewed determination to be there for his father, to learn and grow with him. He sat, his eyes never leaving Plankton's serene face, as the minutes ticked by. The darkness outside the window grew thicker, the moon casting a gentle glow into the room, painting the walls with silver light. The quiet was a comfort now, a balm to their frazzled spirits. Karen's footsteps were a soft whisper on the floorboards as she padded in, her eyes assessing the situation with a practiced gaze. "How's he doing?" she asked, her voice a gentle caress in the silence. "Better," Chip murmured, his eyes still on his father. "He's asleep." Karen nodded, her expression a mixture of relief and concern. "Why don't you get some rest too?" she suggested, her hand on Chip's shoulder. Chip hesitated, his gaze flickering from Plankton to his mother. "But what if he wakes up?" he asked, his voice a tentative whisper. Karen's eyes softened, understanding the fear that gripped him. "I'll stay," she assured. "You need to rest, too." Chip nodded, his body sagging with exhaustion. He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to Plankton's forehead, his antennae tickling him. "Love you, Dad," he murmured, his voice a whisper in the stillness. Karen's hand squeezed his shoulder. "I'll wake you if he needs you," she promised, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. With a nod, Chip reluctantly stood, his legs wobbly from the adrenaline rush. He turned to leave, his gaze lingering on Plankton's still form, before finally exiting the room. The hallway was a stark contrast to the warm cocoon of Plankton's bedroom, the cold air a slap to his cheeks. He took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the weight of his father's words. In his own room, Chip lay on his bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling. The quiet was deafening, his thoughts racing like a thousand fish in a net. He replayed the day's events, each moment a sharp sting in the ocean of his mind. The look on his father's face when he'd tried to hug him, the sound of the lamp shattering, the harshness of his own voice. Chip's thoughts swirled like a tornado of regret. He'd never understood the depth of Plankton's condition, the daily battles he faced. He'd always seen his father's quirks as just that—quirks. But now, the reality was stark and unyielding. Plankton's autism was more than just a part of him; it was his reality, his truth, and Chip had been careless with it. With a heavy sigh, Chip climbed into bed, his mind racing. He wished he could take back the moments that had caused pain, to rewind the clock and start again. But life didn't work that way. The house was eerily quiet, the normally bustling undersea abode now a testament to the gravity of the evening's events. Chip couldn't shake the image of his father, frozen and vulnerable, his antennae drooping like deflated party balloons. The next day dawned, a soft glow seeping into the room. Chip's eyes snapped open, his heart racing as he remembered the previous night. He threw off the covers and tiptoed to his father's room, his bare feet slapping against the cold tile floor. Karen was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand on Plankton's shoulder. The soft light of morning painted the scene in gentle hues, a stark contrast to the shadows of the night before. "How's he doing?" Chip asked, his voice hoarse. "Better," Karen whispered, her smile a beacon in the early light. "He's still sleeping." The relief on Chip's face was palpable as he approached the bed. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, a sign of his dreams. Chip's heart skipped a beat at the sight, a silent promise to do better, to be more understanding. "He's been sleeping peacefully," Karen assured, her voice a gentle wave lapping against the shore. "I'll make us some breakfast." Her footsteps receded, leaving Chip alone with his sleeping father. Plankton's antennae twitched in his sleep, and Chip felt a wave of guilt crash over him. He carefully sat on the edge of the bed, his hand hovering over the blanket. He wanted to touch, to reassure, but his earlier misstep was still fresh in his mind. Instead, he simply watched, his eyes tracing the outline of Plankton's form beneath the fabric. The smell of pancakes began to waft up from the kitchen, a comforting scent that seemed to soothe the tension in the room. Chip took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet aroma. He knew today would be a new beginning, a chance to mend the fragile threads of their bond. As Karen's footsteps retreated, the silence grew heavier, pressing against the walls like the water outside their windows. Chip's heart beat a staccato rhythm. He reached out slowly, his hand hovering over Plankton's hand. For a moment, he didn't move, just breathed, feeling the weight of his father's slumber. Then, with a careful, almost reverent touch, he covered Plankton's hand with his own. The warmth of his father's skin was a comfort, a reminder that despite the turbulent waters they'd navigated the night before, they were still connected. Plankton's antennae twitched in his sleep, and Chip held his breath, fearful that he'd woken him. But his father's eye remained closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The silence stretched, a testament to their newfound understanding. Chip felt a swell of emotion, a mix of love and regret. He didn't want to let go, but he knew he had to allow Plankton his space, his privacy. So he gently lifted his hand, placing it in his lap, the memory of their shared warmth lingering like a warm embrace. He took a deep breath, his chest tight with the weight of his resolve. He would be there for his father, no matter what. He would learn about his condition, listen to his needs, and support him without smothering him. It was a delicate balance, one that Chip knew he might not always get right, but he was determined to try.

Wednesday, October 28, 2015 Here’s a breakdown of the most popular candy in each state: Alabama: AirHeads Alaska: Snickers Arizona: Toblerone Arkansas: Skittles California: Life Savers Colorado: Milky Way Connecticut: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups Delaware: 3 Musketeers Florida: Nestlé Crunch Georgia - Pixy Stix Hawaii: 100 Grand Bar Idaho: Butterfinger Illinois: Snickers Indiana: Reese’s Pieces Iowa: Twix Kansas: Twizzlers Kentucky: Whoppers Louisiana: Swedish Fish Maine: Starburst Maryland: Almond Joy Massachusetts: Starburst Michigan: M&M’s Minnesota: 100 Grand Bar Mississippi: Hershey’s Kisses Missouri: Hershey’s Kisses Montana: Kit Kat Nebraska: Skittles Nevada: Jolly Ranchers New Hampshire: Tootsie Rolls New Jersey: Sour Patch Kids New Mexico: 3 Musketeers New York: Sweetarts North Carolina: Butterfinger North Dakota: Sour Patch Kids Ohio: Milky Way Oklahoma: M&M’s Oregon: Candy corn Pennsylvania: Swedish Fish Rhode Island: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups South Carolina: Candy corn South Dakota: Laffy Taffy Tennessee: Candy corn Texas: Candy corn Utah: Nerds Vermont: Almond Joy Virginia: Reese’s Pieces Washington: AirHeads West Virginia: Oreos Wisconsin: Laffy Taffy Wyoming: Candy corn District of Columbia: Twix

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CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS vii (Autistic Author) The film starts, and for a while, the only sound is the muffled dialogue and the occasional sniffle from Chip. Karen's hand finds its way to Plankton's, giving it a gentle squeeze. He flinches at first but then relaxes slightly, allowing her contact. Plankton's antennae still and he turns to look at Chip, who's staring at the screen, lost in the fantasy. Karen watches them both, torn between anger and pity. She knows Plankton's anger isn't directed at Chip, but it's hard to see her son hurt. The movie plays on, the sound of laughter and adventure a stark contrast to the heavy silence that hangs over them. Plankton's antennae twitch as he glances at Chip, his eye flickering with regret. Karen feels the tension in the room begin to ease as Chip becomes engrossed in the film. He shifts closer to Plankton, seeking comfort without words. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, and he sighs, his grip on the armrest of the couch tightening. The film starts, and for a while, the only sound is the muffled dialogue and the occasional sniffle from Chip. Karen's hand finds its way to Plankton's, giving it a gentle squeeze. He flinches at first but then relaxes slightly, allowing her contact. Plankton's antennae still and he turns to look at Chip, who's staring at the screen, lost in the fantasy. Karen watches them both, torn between anger and pity. She knows Plankton's anger isn't directed at Chip, but it's hard to see her son hurt. The movie plays on, the sound of laughter and adventure a stark contrast to the heavy silence that hangs over them. Plankton's antennae twitch as he glances at Chip, his eye flickering with regret. Karen feels the tension in the room begin to ease as Chip becomes engrossed in the film. He shifts closer to Plankton, seeking comfort without words. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, and he sighs, his grip on the armrest of the couch tightening. During a particularly suspenseful scene, Chip reaches out and grabs Plankton's arm instinctively. But the sudden touch sends Plankton spiraling. His antennae shoot up, and he starts to shake uncontrollably. "Daddy?" Chip asks, his grip tightening in concern. Plankton's body jolts, his antennae flailing wildly as his eye roll back. "Daddy!" Chip's voice is filled with fear as he clutches his father's arm tighter. Plankton's tremors only worsen, his body convulsing in a way that's both frightening and heartbreaking. Karen's realizes what's happening. "Chip, let go!" she cries. "Dad?" Chip whispers, his voice trembling with fear. Plankton's shaking becomes more intense, his antennae flailing as if trying to escape the confines of his own body. His mouth opens in a silent scream. Karen's knows this isn't a ‘seizure’ but something else entirely—a meltdown, a result of the overwhelming emotions he's been trying to hold in. She rushes to his side with worry. "Chip, let go of him," she says, her voice urgent. Plankton's shaking becomes more intense, his antennae thrashing about like seaweed in a storm. Karen quickly moves closer, her own hands gentle as she pries Chip's tight grip from Plankton's arm. "Chip, sweetie, let Daddy breathe," she says, her voice firm yet filled with empathy. "What's wrong with him?" he stammers, voice trembling. Karen's full of sadness as she takes Chip into her arms, gently peeling him away from Plankton's convulsing form. "It's ok, baby," she murmurs, her voice a lifeline in the chaos. "Daddy's just having a hard time right now." Her movements are swift and sure as she guides Chip away from the couch, her gaze never leaving Plankton. His body is still racked with tremors, his antennae a wild mess of emotions. She knows that touch can be overwhelming for Plankton in moments like these, so she keeps her distance, giving him the space he needs. "Why is he doing that?" Chip whispers, his voice shaky with fear. Karen's heart aches as she holds him close, trying to shield him from the harshness of the world. "It's called a meltdown, sweetie," she explains gently, her voice a soothing balm. "Sometimes, when some neurodivergent people get really upset or overwhelmed, their bodies may react like this." Karen's on Plankton, who's still trembling on the couch, his antennae a blur of distress. She knows he needs space, yet her instinct is to comfort him. With Chip in her arms, she keeps a safe distance, speaking softly so as not to add to the sensory overload. "Plankton," she says, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "It's ok. Just breathe." Plankton's body continues to spasm, his antennae a frantic tapestry of emotions. Karen's filled with a fierce determination as she carefully approaches him, her movements slow and calculated to avoid triggering more distress. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a gentle lullaby amidst the chaos. "I'm here." Slowly, his antennae begin to still, his body calming as he registers her presence. "It's ok," she repeats. With trembling hands, she reaches out to stroke his back, the barest touch. Plankton's body relaxes slightly, his breaths coming in deep, shaky gasps. "Just breathe," she whispers again, her hand moving in a soothing rhythm. "It's ok, you're ok." Plankton's antennae slow their erratic dance, his body following suit. The tremors subside, leaving him drained and panting. "Daddy?" Chip whispers, peering over Karen's shoulder. Karen nods, still on Plankton. "He's ok now," she says softly. "It's just his brain's way of letting out all the big feelings." Chip watches, his grip on Karen tightening. "Is he going to be ok?" he asks, his voice small. Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "Yes," she murmurs. "Just give him a moment." The room is silent except for Plankton's uneven breathing. The colors from the TV flicker across their faces, painting them in a strange, unsettling light. Karen can feel Chip's little heart beating against hers, and she knows he's scared. "It's ok," she whispers again, her voice a beacon of calm in the storm. "Daddy just needs some time." Plankton's antennae droop, his body finally still. His eye meets hers, a silent apology in the depths of his gaze. Karen nods, her hand still on his back, offering assurance without words. "Chip," she says, her voice still low, "can you go to your room for a bit?" He nods, eyes still glued to his father, but he doesn't protest. With a heavy heart, Karen watches her son disappear down the corridor, the door clicking shut behind him. Turning her full attention to Plankton, she sits down beside him, her hand resting lightly on his back. His breathing is still ragged, his antennae barely moving. "I'm sorry," Plankton whispers, his voice hoarse. Karen nods with understanding. "We'll talk to him," she says gently. "But first, let's make sure you're ok." Plankton's body still trembling slightly. Karen keeps her hand on his back, her touch a silent promise that she's there for him. Karen's hand moves in gentle circles, trying to soothe him. "You don't have to apologize," she says firmly. "You are who you are, and we love you for it." Plankton's antennae twitch, and he looks up at her, his single eye brimming with unshed tears. "But I don't know how to be a good dad like this," he chokes out. Karen's heart breaks at his words, but she keeps her voice steady. "You're already a great dad, Plankton," she says. "You just need to find a way to show Chip that." He looks at her, hope and doubt warring in his expression. "How?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Karen takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "By teaching him," she says gently. "By letting him in, just like you're letting us in now." Plankton's antennae droop, and he nods. "I know," he says, his voice filled with regret. "But it's hard. I don't want him to see me like this." Karen squeezes his hand. "He already does," she says gently. "And he loves you anyway."

GREAT CHIP vii (Autistic author) Karen's eyes searched their faces, picking up on the unspoken tension. "I see you two had a talk," she said gently, her gaze lingering on Plankton. "How are you feeling?" Plankton's antennae drooped slightly. "Tired," he admitted. "But better." Karen stepped closer to the bed, her hand reaching out to cover his own. "I'm here," she said softly. "Do you remember what happened in Chip's room before coming in here?" Plankton's antennae twitched nervously. "Bits and pieces," he admitted, his eye avoiding hers. "I know I had a...moment. And I... I was mad." Karen's hand squeezed his gently. "It's okay, sweetie," she said, her voice soothing. "You don't have to be ashamed. It's just your brain's way of coping." Plankton's eye searched hers, his antennae still. "But the things I said..." his voice trailing off. Karen's expression remained calm, understanding. "They were the seizure's words, not yours," she assured him. "We're just glad you're okay." Chip's gaze flitted between his parents, his heart aching for his dad. He knew he needed to be strong, to support his father through this. "Can we talk more about it tomorrow?" he suggested, his voice filled with hope. Plankton's antennae nodded wearily. "We can," he said, his voice a mix of relief and exhaustion. "But for now, I need to rest. It's bedtime, so.." Chip felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of his dad's struggle, but he also felt a spark of hope. Maybe tomorrow would bring a new understanding, a way to bridge the gap between them. The next morning, the sun streamed through the blinds of their small, cluttered bedroom, casting patterns on the floor. Chip stirred, his mind filled with the memories of the previous night's conversation. He checked on Plankton, who was still asleep, his antennae twitching slightly. He knew today would be a new day, a chance to start anew with his father. Carefully, Chip padded out to the kitchen, his thoughts racing with the promise of understanding. He found Karen at the counter, sipping her morning coffee, her eyes red-rimmed from the night's worry. "Mom," he began, his voice still thick with sleep. "Can we talk?" Karen turned, her eyes filled with the same exhaustion he saw in Plankton's. "Of course, honey," she said, placing her mug down gently. Chip took a deep breath, his words spilling out like water from a broken dam. "I want to understand Dad's condition," he said, his voice determined. "I don't want to make it worse for him." Karen's eyes searched his, seeing the sincerity in his gaze. "That's a big step, Chip," she said, her voice filled with pride. "But it's not going to be easy. It'll take patience and practice." Chip nodded, his expression resolute. "I'm ready," he said. "I just don't want Dad to be alone in this." Karen's face softened, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You're such a good son," she said, her voice warm with affection. "But remember, he might not always know how to ask for help. Sometimes, you'll have to read between the lines." Chip nodded, his mind racing with questions and concerns. "But what if I mess up?" he asked, his voice trembling. Karen's hand gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You might," she said, her voice filled with experience. "But that's okay. Just keep trying, and we'll figure it out together." Her words echoed in Chip's head as he sat down at the kitchen table, his eyes never leaving his mother's. "But how do I know what to do?" Karen took a deep breath, her eyes filled with a quiet strength. "You'll learn," she said, her voice calm and reassuring. "It's about patience and observation. And most importantly, communication." Chip nodded, feeling the weight of her words. "Okay," he said. "I'll do my best." Karen's hand squeezed his shoulder gently. "You already are," she said, her smile warm. Chip felt a surge of determination. He was going to be there for his dad, no matter what it took. "What can I do now?" he asked, eager to start. Karen's eyes searched his, a hint of sadness in them. "Now, we wait," she said. "Let him sleep. When he wakes, be there, but don't overwhelm him." Chip nodded, his mind racing with questions and fears, feeling a mix of emotions: fear, love, and a newfound determination to be the best son he could be. As he waited for Plankton to wake up, he tried to remember the cues his dad had mentioned: twitching antennae, a sudden quietness, a look of overwhelm. He promised himself to be more aware, more attuned to his father's needs.

CHIP AND FAIL xvii (Autistic author) Plankton quivered with the effort to contain his anger. "Chip, your dad's right," Karen said, her voice a soft current of calm amidst the storm. "You have to learn to respect his boundaries." Plankton's antennae twitched. He looked at Karen, his eye filled with a mix of gratitude and pain. "It's not just the touch," he whispered, his voice raw. "It's the types of touch, the expectations... It's like I'm drowning every day." Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "And Chip," she said, turning to her son, "you need to learn to swim without pushing him under." Chip's eyes were wide with understanding. "What can I do?" Karen took a deep breath. "Just ask before you touch," she said. "And if he says no, respect it. Give him space." Chip's eyes searched his father's. "Dad," he whispered. "I'm sorry." Plankton's antennae twitched, a sign of his internal struggle. Karen's hand squeezed his. "Okay, Chip," she said, her voice a gentle guide. "Ask your questions." Chip took a deep breath. "What do you mean by 'ask before I touch'?" he ventured, his eyes on Plankton, his antennae still a blur of agitation. Plankton took a moment before replying. "It means," he began, his voice still sharp, "that I need space. My brain can't handle what yours can!" "But Mom," Chip's voice was still tentative, "How do we know what touch..." But Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye a storm of agitation. "Just ask!" he snapped. "It's not rocket science, Chip. Just. Ask." Chip took a deep breath, his cheeks still flushed with anger. "I'm asking what types of..." But Plankton's antennae were already back to their usual calm state. "I know you're curious," he said, his voice softer. "But I can't just list them. It's different every day. Sometimes, a simple pat on the back is too much. Other times, I crave a hug." Chip nodded slowly, his mind racing with questions. "So, it IS a choice..." But Plankton's antennae drooped. "No, Chip," he said, his voice weary. "It's not a choice. It's survival." "Survival? Dad, a touch won't kill you.." But Plankton's antennae twitched again. "It's not just about living," he said, his voice sad. "It's about living without pain." Chip's eyes searched his father's, seeing the weariness and hurt. He took a step closer, his hand outstretched. "Can I?" he asked, his voice tentative. Plankton flinched, his antennae shooting up. "What are you doing?" he snapped, his voice tight with anxiety. "Just asking if it's okay," Chip said, his hand hovering in midair. "I don't want to..." Plankton's antennae stopped twitching. "If you're going to ask, make it genuine," he said, his voice softening. "Don't just do it because you think it's the right thing to do." Chip nodded, his hand still hovering. "I want to learn," he said, his voice earnest. "What can I do to make it better?" Plankton's antennae quivered slightly, a hint of softening. "You can start by listening," he said, his voice a little less sharp. "What do you mean?" Chip asked, his hand slowly lowering. "I mean," Plankton began, his antennae calming slightly, "that I need you to understand that my boundaries are not up for negotiation." "But what if I want to hug you?" Chip's voice was hopeful, his arms outstretched and already reaching him. Plankton's antennae shot up again. "Chip, I said no!" he yelled, his voice sharp with pain. "How many times do I have to tell you?" Chip's eyes widened, his hands falling to his side. "But I just..." But Plankton's antennae were a blur of agitation again. "You don't get it!" he shouted. "It's not about what YOU want, it's about what I need!" Chip's eyes searched his father's, his mind racing. "But Dad, I just want to show you that I care," he said, his voice quivering. "Is there no way to do that without making you uncomfortable?" Plankton's antennae twitched. "Chip," he began, his voice weary, "just because you don't see my struggle doesn't mean it's not there." Chip's eyes searched his father's, his hands clenched at his sides. "But how can I show you that I care?" "Sleep, for now," Karen says. "We're all tired. We can talk about this another time." Plankton's antennae dropped slightly, his body visibly deflating. Chip nodded, his eyes on the floor. "Okay," he murmured. "I'll just go to my room." Karen watched him go, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she had to be the one to mend the fracture between father and son. She turned to Plankton. "Bedtime," she said, her voice a gentle nudge. "We're all exhausted. It's late." The next morning, Chip awoke early. He could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable. The house was eerily silent. He knew he had to make things right for his dad. Chip tiptoed to his parents's room, his heart racing. He pushed the door open. Karen was sitting on the edge of the bed. Plankton was curled up, his antennae twitching slightly. Chip swallowed his pride. "Mom, I'm sorry for what I said," he mumbled. "Can you help me talk to Dad?" Karen's eyes softened. "Your father's still sleeping," she said. "But I'll talk to him when he wakes up." Chip nodded. "I'll wait," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll do whatever it takes." Karen's eyes searched his, seeing the determination in them. "Alright," she said, her voice a soft caress. "But remember, it's not about fixing him. It's about understanding him." Chip nodded solemnly. "I know," he said. "I just want to be there for him." Karen's eyes filled with pride. "That's all we can ask for," she said. "But you have to be patient." Chip goes to his mom's bed, sitting down. "I'll wait," he says. "I'm not leaving until we talk." Karen nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "I'll stay with you," she says. "But remember, we have to give him space." Chip nods, his gaze never leaving his father's sleeping form. He studies Plankton, his antennae twitching slightly in his sleep. He tries to imagine what it's like for his dad, to live in a world where a simple touch could be torture. He watches the rise and fall of Plankton's chest, the gentle sway of his antennae. He notices how peaceful he looks when his mind isn't bombarded by the world's sensory assault, the way his mouth is slightly open. "Mom," Chip says, his voice barely above a whisper. "What does Dad's autism mean for his sleep?" Karen sighs, her eyes still on Plankton. "It means that his brain is always on alert," she explains. "Sleep can be elusive for him. Sometimes, the smallest sound can keep him awake for hours." Chip nods, his gaze still on Plankton. "What happened yesterday when I... Dad was unresponsive?" Karen sighs. "Sensory overload," she says. "It's like your brain has too much to process, so it just shuts down." Chip nods, his eyes still on Plankton. "Was he like, awake?" he asks. "Sort of," Karen replies, her eyes never leaving Plankton's restless form. "It's like he's trapped in his own head." "Could he hear me?" Chip's voice was a mix of fear and hope. "Could he feel anything?" Karen looked at her son, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she was about to reveal a painful truth. "He heard you," she said gently. "But his brain couldn't process it all." Chip felt a lump in his throat. "Could he see?" he asked, his voice tight with emotion. Karen nodded, her eyes still on Plankton. "He could see you," she said. "But it's like his brain was stuck in a loop, replaying the same scene over and over." Chip felt the weight of his father's pain, his own chest constricting. "How long do they usually last?" Karen's gaze remained on Plankton. "It varies," she said. "Sometimes just seconds, other times hours. It all depends on how overwhelmed he gets."

CHIP AND FAIL xvi (Autistic author) "Both of you, sit down," Karen ordered, her voice firm but not unkind. They complied, their movements jerky with emotion. "Chip, your father's autism is not an excuse for this behavior, but it's also not something to mock," Karen began, looking at her son with serious eyes. "It's a part of him, and we need to respect it." Chip's anger subsided slightly. "But you saw what happened earlier," he said, his voice still shaking. "It's like he doesn't even want to be around me." But Plankton's not quite done. "Why do you think that is, Chip? Go on, smarty, enlighten..." Karen's patience had run out. "Plankton," she said, her voice stern. "That's enough." He glared at Chip, his antennae quivering with anger. Chip looked away from him. "And Plankton," Karen's voice was a gentle reprimand, "Your son's ignorance is not an excuse for anger. We all need to communicate better." Plankton's antennae drooped. "I know," he murmured, his anger easing slightly. "It's just..." Karen's voice was firm. "I know it's frustrating, but we need to work together." She turned to Chip. "And Chip, your father's feelings are valid. You can't ignore them." Chip looked at his father, his eyes filled with regret. "I'm sorry, Dad," he murmured. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Karen's voice was calm as she interceded. "Plankton, can you tell Chip what happened today? Help him understand?" Plankton's antennae stopped shaking. He took a deep breath. "When you touch me without asking," he began, his voice still sharp, "my body can't always handle what yours can." Karen's eyes were a gentle reminder of the lesson she had tried to teach earlier. She nodded for him to continue. "When you poke me or touch me without asking," Plankton said, "it's overwhelming." "I just barely touched you for one second, Dad!" "To you, it's one second," Plankton replied, his antennae drooping. "To me, it's an eternity of discomfort." Karen stepped in. "Chip," she said, "You need to understand that for him, it's not just about physical contact. It's about respecting his boundaries."

CHIP AND FAIL vii (Autistic author) Plankton's body tensed, his eye squeezing shut as he tried to block out the onslaught of sensations. "Chip," he murmured, his voice strained, "I can't." "What do you mean?" He didn't know his touch, his words, his very presence was a storm in Plankton's mind. He just wanted to share his week, his joy, with his dad. Plankton took a deep, shaky breath, his antennae twitching. "I have... I have something that makes it hard for me to... to handle..." But Chip's excitement was unable to comprehend the distress he was causing. "Handle what, Dad?" he asked, his voice filled with eagerness. "You can tell me anything!" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye flickering with pain. He knew he had to find the words, to explain the storm that raged in his mind, his voice trembling. "I can't... I just..." Chip's eyes searched his father's, his hands reaching out again. But Plankton was already slipping away, his mind a tornado of sensations. He couldn't find the words, the storm too loud. Chip, oblivious to the turmoil, pressed on. "Dad, you can tell me anything," he said, his voice bubbling over with eagerness. His hands reached out again, his touch like a lightning bolt in Plankton's overstimulated world. Plankton's antennae quivered with the effort of maintaining his composure. He didn't know how to explain the maelstrom that was his mind, the way each touch and sound felt like a thunderclap. "Chip," he began again, his voice strained, "I'm..." But Chip was a hurricane, his enthusiasm unyielding. "Is it because of the college?" he asked, his screen sparkling. "Or Nutmeg?" He didn't realize that his words, his touch, were the fuel for the storm. Plankton's eye searched his son's, desperate for a moment of calm. "Chip, no, it's not about..." His voice was a whisper, lost in the wind of his son's excitement. But Chip didn't hear the desperation, his mind a kaleidoscope of thoughts and memories. He didn't see the pain he was causing, only his own need for connection. "But Dad, I just wanted to..." Plankton's antennae shot up, his body tensing like a bowstring. "Chip," he said, his voice a whipcrack of agony. "P-please." But Chip was in his own world, racing with the excitement of his week. "Come on, Dad," he said, his voice filled with cheerful oblivion. "It's so cool, you've gotta see it!" He grabbed Plankton's hand, pulling him to hard. Plankton's body jerked, his eye wide with pain. The sudden contact was like a sledgehammer to his overstimulated mind, his thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm. "Chip," he managed, his voice strained, "please." But Chip's excitement was a freight train, barreling forward without a care for the tracks. He didn't see the agony etched in Plankton's features, didn't feel the tension in his father's body. "Come on, Dad," he said, his grip tightening. "It's going to be amazing, I..." Plankton's body spasmed at the contact, his antennae vibrating wildly. The room grew too bright, the sounds too loud, the air too thin. He couldn't move, couldn't think. His mind was a cacophony of sensations, a symphony of overload. "Chip," he choked out, his voice a plea. "I... I can't." Chip's face fell, not realizing how angry his dad's getting. "What do you..." But Plankton was already spiraling, his mind a tornado of sensory assault. He didn't know how to make Chip understand, his voice a thunderclap of despair. "I CAN'T!" he shouted, his antennae waving erratically. Chip's smile faltered, his eyes wide with shock. He had never seen his dad like this before, his touch a match to a fuse. He took a step back, his hands up in surrender. "You mean, you won't!" he asked, his voice shaking. Plankton took a deep, shuddering breath, his antennae drooping. "Chip," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "I can't. Not right now. I need..." But Chip's crashing over the delicate barriers Plankton had built to keep his world in order. "But Dad, it's just a story!" he exclaimed, his voice booming in the quiet living room. "It's not a big deal, you're just being..." The room grew smaller, the walls closing in on Plankton as Chip's words echoed in his mind. Just a story? To Chip, it was a simple tale of adventure, but to Plankton, it was a minefield of sensory input his brain couldn't process. "Chip, please," he murmured, his antennae twitching wildly. "I'm trying..." "You're not trying hard enough!" Chip said, his voice filled with the kind of innocent exasperation that only a child can muster. "But if you're trying to break our family, congratulations! You..." Plankton's antennae shot up, his body rigid with tension. The accusation hit him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him under the weight of his own failure. "Chip," he said, his voice a desperate plea. "It's not..." But Chip's screen filled with accusation, his voice loud in the suddenly too-small room. "Why can't you just be normal?" he demanded, his grip on Plankton's hand tightening. Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye squeezed shut against the assault. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm not... I'm not like other dads." "Well DUH! You just can't handle it, can you?" Chip said, his voice filled with frustration. He didn't see the pain in Plankton's eye, the way his antennae drooped with each accusation. "But it's just a story, Dad. It's not that..." Plankton's antennae twitched, his body trembling with the effort to stay calm. "Chip, you don't understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "My mind is like a... a... " Chip's eyes searched his father's, his expression a mix of confusion and anger. "What? What's wrong with you? Let me guess, you're just being dramatic again," he said, his voice harsher than he intended. Plankton flinched at the accusation, his antennas stiffening. Karen watched from the sidelines, aching. She knew this moment was inevitable, but seeing the pain was like a knife to her. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation that needed to happen. "Chip, sweetie," she began, her voice soft and gentle, "Dad's not being dramatic." She took a step forward, placing a hand on her son's shoulder, feeling the tension beneath his skin. "Your dad has..." "Mom, my 'dad' has no place in OUR family! Your life is a lie!" Chip's words, fueled by confusion and hurt, echoed through to Plankton, his voice shaking. Karen's hands shook as she reached for Chip. "No, honey," she said, her voice trembling, "it's not that simple." But Chip was already storming out of the room, his footsteps like thunder in the quiet hallway. Plankton slumped back against his chair, his antennae drooping. He had hoped Chip would never have to know, never have to feel the way he did. The way his mind was like a cluttered room, with no way to organize the chaos. He closed his eye, the weight of his secret heavy on his shoulders.

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY vii (Autistic author) "We're just going to do what you want. How about a trivia game?" Plankton's antennae perked up slightly at the mention of a game, his love for competition never truly forgotten. "Trivia," he echoed, his voice still monotone but with a hint of interest. "Yes, trivia," Karen said, stroking his back gently. "You can show us all how much you know." Plankton looked up at Patrick. "I'm sorry," Patrick said, voice sincere for once. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Plankton sniffled, his antennae twitching slightly. "Patrick mean," he murmured, his voice monotone yet filled with hurt. "I know, buddy," Sponge Bob said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But he didn't know. Sometimes, Patrick doesn't think before he speaks." Patrick nodded, his eyes downcast. "I guess I'm not the best at understanding things," he mumbled. Sponge Bob leaned closer to Plankton. "Why don't we start our game now?" he suggested, his voice gentle. "We can play a game about random trivia. Does that sound okay?" Plankton nodded slowly, antennae still drooping. "Okay," he murmurs. They around the table, the jellyfish book open to a random page. Plankton's gaze remained fixed on it, his mind racing with facts and figures. Karen took a deep breath, her tentacles still tense from the confrontation with Patrick. "Alright, let's start with something easy," she suggested. "What's the scientific name for jellyfish?" Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye lighting up with excitement. "Jellyfish scientific name," he recited, "Cnidaria." "Cnidaria?" Sponge Bob repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "That's right, Plankton!" Patrick looked at the book, then at Plankton, his eyes wide. "How do you know all this stuff?" Plankton's antennae wiggled slightly. "Plankton read book," he said, his voice monotone but with a hint of pride. "Patrick, I'll ask you a question," Sponge Bob said, his smile genuine. Patrick nodded, eager to make amends. "Shoot." Sponge Bob's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Okay, Patrick," he said, "What's the square root of 120?" Patrick's eyes widened, his brain scrambling. He took a deep breath and announced, "It's 12?" "No, Patrick," Plankton said, his voice a monotone but with a hint of amusement. "It's 10.190565... but Plankton rounds to 10." Patrick's face fell as he realized he'd been outsmarted. "Oh," he murmured. "Guess I should've studied more at boating school." "It's okay, Patrick," Karen said. Sponge Bob's eyes twinkled with encouragement. "Let's keep playing, Plankton," he said. "You're doing great." Plankton nodded, his antennae slightly less droopy. "Your turn, Plankton," Sponge Bob said. "What's something interesting about yourself?" Plankton paused, his antennae twitching as he searched for words. "Interesting?" he echoed. Sponge Bob nodded encouragingly. "Yes, something that makes you special or unique. Tell us all about Plankton." Plankton's antennae quivered as he thought. "Plankton... good at science," he said finally, his monotone voice revealing his pride. "Especially jellyfish." "That's fantastic, Plankton!" Karen exclaimed. Patrick nodded in agreement. "Yeah, buddy," he said, his voice still subdued. "You're a real jellyfish genius." Plankton's antennae twitched with a hint of satisfaction. "Jellyfish have 24 eyes," he said, his voice monotone yet filled with a newfound confidence. "But no brain." "What?" Patrick's eyes widened. "How can they see without a brain?" Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he began to elaborate. "Jellyfish have simple nervous system," he said, his voice still flat but gaining momentum. "Eyes detect light, not images. Help them avoid predators and find food." Sponge Bob's eyes grew wide with amazement. "Wow Plankton," he said. "That's so cool!" "Plankton born cycloptic one eye." Patrick's jaw dropped as he stared at Plankton. "That's... really cool," he murmured, his mind racing to keep up. Sponge Bob nodded eagerly. "Yeah, Plankton," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "Tell us more!" Plankton's antennae perked up at the genuine interest from his friends. "Plankton own Chum Bucket," he said, his voice monotone but proud. "Serve chum, best food in Bikini Bottom." Patrick's eyes lit up. "You're like a chef, Plankton! That's so cool!" But Plankton's gaze remained on the jellyfish book, his thoughts drifting. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, his voice monotone yet filled with a hint of anger. "Has Krabby Patties.." Karen and Sponge Bob exchanged a glance, knowing the mention of Mr. Krabs. "Plankton," Karen began cautiously, "we don't have to talk about Krabby Patties if you don't want to." But Plankton's antennae shot up, his voice taking on a new, almost manic energy. "No, no," he murmured, his monotone cracking. "Mr. Krabs. Krabby Patties. Plankton's purpose." Sponge Bob's smile faltered, the mention of Krabby Patties bringing back memories of their long-standing rivalry. "Plankton," he said gently, "you don't have to steal Krabby Patties anymore. You have jellyfish now." But Plankton's antennae quivered with a strange intensity. "Krabs," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a newfound urgency. "Gave Plankton brain damage. Accident," Plankton murmured, his voice low. "Mr. Krabs... Krabby Patty... Plankton's brain... changed." Sponge Bob's smile faded, his heart sinking as he realized the gravity of the situation. "Plankton," he said, his voice filled sadness. But Plankton didn't seem to hear him, lost in his own thoughts. "Plankton not same," he murmured. "But jellyfish... jellyfish make Plankton happy." Karen's eyes filled with understanding. "It's ok, Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "You can still have a purpose. Maybe not with Krabby Patties, but with jellyfish." Plankton's antennae quivered as he repeated her words back to her. "Purpose with jellyfish," he murmured. "Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her tentacles stroking his back gently. "Your purpose can be whatever makes you happy." "Happy," Plankton echoed, his antennae twitching as he repeated her word. "Yes, happy," Karen said, her voice soothing. "We're here to support you, Plankton." "Support Plankton," he echoed, his antennae drooping slightly. "But Krabs... Plankton's enemy." Karen's eyes searched Plankton's, her own filled with a gentle warmth. "Mr. Krabs doesn't have to be your enemy anymore," she said, her tone soothing. "You can find joy in other things." "Other things," Plankton echoed, his antennae still. "Yes," Karen said, her tentacles waving gently. "Like jellyfish. You can focus on learning about them and sharing your knowledge with others." "Share knowledge," Plankton repeated, his antennae quivering with curiosity. "Exactly," Karen said, her tentacles gesturing encouragingly. "You can start a jellyfish club, remember?" Plankton's antennae twitched as he processed her words. "Jellyfish club," he murmured. "Yeah, buddy," Sponge Bob said, his voice filled with excitement. "We can all join and learn together!" Plankton's antennae perked up slightly, and a glimmer of hope entered his eye. "Club," he murmured, his voice monotone but with a hint of excitement.

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM vii (Autistic author) He starts to rock back and forth, his single eye squeezed shut as he tries to cope with the sudden change in his environment. Mr. Krabs' confusion deepens, his claws scratching his head in bemusement. "What's gotten into you, Plankton?" he says. But Plankton can't stop. His rocking intensifies, his whispered mantra becoming more desperate. "Fish, fish, fish," he repeats, his voice rising slightly with each iteration. Mr. Krabs stares at Plankton, his confusion turning. "Plankton, you ok?" he asks. But Plankton is lost in his own world, his stimming a way to self-regulate. His antennas wave back and forth in a soothing rhythm, his body rocking slightly as he murmurs "fish, fish, fish." Sponge Bob's heart aches as he watches his friend, his own hands clenching into fists at his side. He understands now that Plankton's behavior isn't a game, it's a coping mechanism, a way to navigate through the chaos in his head. "Plankton, it's ok," Sponge Bob says soothingly, approaching his friend. He gently picks up one of the fallen chess pieces, a knight, and holds it out to him. "Do you want to play again?" Plankton's antennas cease their frantic motion, his eye focusing on the knight. He takes it, his fingers tracing the intricate carvings, his breathing steadying. "Fish," he says, his voice calmer. Sponge Bob watches his friend carefully, his heart breaking at the sight of his distress. He understands now that Plankton's repetition is not just a strange behavior, but a way to cope with his new reality. Mr. Krabs, still confused, watches as Plankton's tracing the lines of the chessboard. "What are ye doing?" he asks, his voice annoyed. Sponge Bob's eyes meet Plankton's, and he sees the desperation in his friend's eye. "Mr. Krabs, Plankton's just... trying to remember how to play," he lies gently. Mr. Krabs grumbles but doesn't argue. Sponge Bob takes this moment to sit next to Plankton, placing his hand on his shoulder. "It's ok," he whispers. "We'll play again when you're ready." Plankton's antennas twitch, his eye dilating slightly as he nods. He clutches the knight tightly, his thumb stroking its smooth surface. It's a familiar comfort, something from before the accident, before the world became a confusing cacophony of sounds and sights. As the moments pass, Plankton's gaze remains fixed on the chessboard, the pattern of the squares providing a comforting visual stimulation. Sponge Bob notices the subtle change in his friend's demeanor, the tension easing from his tiny body. "Fish," Plankton murmurs again, but this time with less urgency. He carefully sets the knight back down on the board, his hand hovering above it. Sponge Bob's heart swells with affection, and he knows that despite the confusion and fear in Plankton's eye, his friend is trying. Mr. Krabs, however, is far from convinced, his eyes narrowing. "If this is how you're going to be, I'm not playing," he declares, crossing his arms over his chest. But Plankton's antennas perk up slightly, his interest piqued by the challenge. He picks up the knight again, his thumb caressing the piece. "Fish," he whispers, his gaze flicking to Sponge Bob and then back to the board. It's a plea. Sponge Bob nods, his face a picture of solemn reassurance. "It's ok," he repeats. "Just..." "What's wrong with you, Plankton?" Mr. Krabs exclaims. Plankton's antennas droop, and he looks down at his cards again. He doesn't know how to explain his condition to Mr. Krabs, who's always so dismissive of him. He feels a pang of desperation, racing to find a way to bridge understanding. Then, it hits him. With trembling hands, Plankton mimics Mr. Krabs' crossed arms, his voice a poor imitation. "What's wrong with you, Plankton," he repeats firmly. Mr. Krabs' eyes bulge with surprise. "What's this now?" he mutters, giving way to amusement. He chuckles deeply, his claws unfolding from his chest. Sponge Bob understands Plankton. "Mr. Krabs," he says quickly, trying to intercept the situation. "Plankton's..." But Mr. Krabs waves his hand dismissively. "I know, I know," he says, his voice filled with mockery. "Just playing his little games." Plankton doesn't want to be laughed at, especially not by Mr. Krabs. With determined effort, he mimics Mr. Krabs. "I know I know," he says again, his tone mimicking Mr. Krabs'. "Just playing his little games!" Mr. Krabs' laughter fades, his gaze sharp. "What now, Plankton?" he demands, his voice hard. Plankton's antennas quiver with determination as he picks up Mr. Krabs' mannerisms. "I know, I know," he repeats, his eye fixed on Mr. Krabs. "Just playing his little games!" Mr. Krabs' expression sours to irritation. "What's your game, Plankton?" he snaps. "Game," he repeats, his voice a mirror of Mr. Krabs'. "Game, game Mr. Krabs." Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow, his confusion shifting to annoyance. "You're not making sense," he says, his voice sharp. But Plankton doesn't stop. "Game, game Mr. Krabs," he persists, his antennas waving frantically. Sponge Bob's heart squeezes. He knows Plankton's not trying to annoy; he's desperately trying to convey something, but his brain's wiring isn't cooperating. Plankton's repetition has turned into a mantra, a plea for understanding that only Mr. Krabs seems to ignore. Mr. Krabs' patience snaps. "Enough!" he shouts, slamming his claws on the table. "What do you want from me, Plankton?" Plankton's antennas flatten, his eye filling with tears. Sponge Bob jumps up, his own voice shaky. "Mr. Krabs, please, don't yell," he begs. "It's just a game." Mr. Krabs' face twists in anger. "This isn't a game, this is your usual scheme to drive me crazy!" "No, Mr. Krabs," he says.

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY vii (Autistic author) The movie ended with the snails crossing the finish line. Sponge Bob reached for the remote, fingers hovering over the button. "Would you like to watch something else?" he asks, voice soft. Sponge Bob noticed his friend Plankton's gentle snores. He had fallen asleep, his body slack. "Plankton?" he whispered. Sponge Bob leaned closer, his heart skipping a beat as he noticed Plankton's gentle snores. Plankton didn't stir, his body slumped slightly curled up. Sponge Bob's gaze softened as he realized he had fallen asleep likely for the night. Sponge Bob felt a wave of relief wash over him, for Plankton found comfort in their shared experience. He gently cradles him. Karen, watching from the doorway, smiled softly as she saw Sponge Bob's gentle care. She knew that Sponge Bob had always had a special bond with Plankton, but now, it seemed that bond had grown deeper, more meaningful. He had always been there for Plankton, through their many adventures and misunderstandings. Now, in the face of Plankton's new reality, he remained steadfast, offering a steady hand in the storm of change. "Let's get him to bed," Karen whispered, stepping into the room. Her eyes met Sponge Bob's, her gaze filled with warmth and thanks. Together, they carefully lifted Plankton from the couch, his body limp with sleep. His antennae twitched slightly at the sudden movement, but his snores remained steady, a testament to his deep sleep. Sponge Bob walked down the hallway, his steps light, carrying Plankton with ease. Karen had prepared the bed. They laid him down, his antennae flailing briefly before settling against the pillow. Sponge Bob tucked the blanket around him, his movements careful not to disturb his friend. Plankton's snores grew quieter as his body settled into the cool embrace of the sheets. His antennae twitched one last time before going still, his mouth slightly parted. Sponge Bob and Karen stepped back, exchanging a look of shared relief. "He's asleep," Karen murmured, her voice a soft caress in the quiet room. Sponge Bob nodded, his gaze lingering on Plankton's peaceful face. "Thanks for today, Karen," he said, his voice grateful. Karen's smile was warm. "Anytime, Sponge Bob," she replied. "You're such a good friend to him." Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes still on Plankton's sleeping form. "Always will be," he said. The next morning, Plankton woke up, and his antennae twitched as he registered the events of the previous day. He sat up, the blanket sliding off his body, and looked around. Sponge Bob stirred from the armchair, where he had dozed off watching over him. "Morning, Plankton," he said, his voice slightly rough with sleep. Plankton's antennae quivered as he looked around, his gaze falling on Sponge Bob. Sponge Bob yawned, stretching his spongy body, his voice gentle. "You fell asleep." Plankton's antennae twitched as his eye focused on Sponge Bob, his brain slowly piecing together the events of the previous evening. Sponge Bob's smile was warm. "You tired out, buddy?" he asked, his voice gentle. Plankton nodded slowly, his antennae twitching slightly. "Tired," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. Sponge Bob nodded, understandingly. "How about we start with a quiet morning?" he suggested. Plankton's antennae quivered slightly before he nods. "Quiet morning," he murmured, his voice agreeable. Sponge Bob nodded, his expression filled with concern. "How about some pancakes?" he offered. "They're nice and easy on the stomach." Plankton's antennae perked up at the mention of food. "No pancakes," he murmured, his voice still sluggish with sleep. Sponge Bob's eyes widened. "No pancakes?" he repeated, surprise evident in his tone. "But you love pancakes!" Plankton's antennae quivered as he thought, his voice a soft whisper. "Pancakes... no," he said, his gaze drifting to the window where the early morning sun peeked through the curtains. The light was gentle, not yet harsh enough to cause him pain. "Toast," he decided, his voice final. Sponge Bob nodded, his smile slightly saddened but respectful of Plankton's new boundaries. "Okay, toast it is," he said, standing up from the chair and heading to the kitchen. Karen met SpongeBob. "Good morning! How's everything?" Sponge Bob's expression was a mixture of hope and trepidation. "Plankton's okay," he said. "He's just really tired." Karen nodded, her gaze following her husband as he slowly made his way to the kitchen. "It's going to take some time for us to figure this out," she said. "But we'll get there." Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's reclined form. "We will," he said, his voice firm with resolve. He returned to the kitchen, his spongy feet padding softly against the floor. The room was bathed in the gentle light of dawn, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound. He pulled out a loaf of bread, his mind racing with thoughts of Plankton's new needs. Sponge Bob carefully sliced two pieces of toast, placing them in the toaster with a soft click. "Morning!" Karen says as Plankton sits down. She gives him milk, as she knew it soothes him. "Stayed up late for movie. Still am tired. Love Karen and SpongeBob." The toaster's ding pierced the silence, and Plankton's antennae shot straight up, his body stiffening at the sudden noise. "Easy, Plankton," Sponge Bob called from the kitchen, his voice soothing. "It's just the toast." "Toast," he murmured. "Toast." Sponge Bob carefully brought the toast to the table, placing it before Plankton. The scent of warm bread filled the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of Karen's brewing coffee. Plankton's antennae twitched as he took in the sight, his body visibly relaxing at the familiar smells. "Yesterday's crazy, autistic or not. And you're still getting used to it all." Karen says as Plankton eats the toast. Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching slightly, still exhausted. The milk Karen had given him was warm, the perfect temperature to soothe his still-frazzled nerves. He brought the cup to his lips, his hands trembling just a bit. As the creamy liquid slid down his throat, Plankton felt a gentle wash of calm spread through him. His antennae, which had been twitching in anticipation of the morning's noises, grew still. It usually helps calm him, which is what it did today. Sponge Bob sat opposite him, his eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle. Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping as he took another sip of his milk. "Tired," he murmured. Karen sat next to him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "It's okay," she said, her voice a gentle reminder of his new reality. SpongeBob helped Karen clean up the kitchen. Plankton sat in the chair, his body slumped, his antennae still. His eye was closed, his tiny chest rising and falling in the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. His head tilted back and a soft snore escaped his open mouth. Karen noticed. The past few days had taken a toll on him, but she knew that with time and patience, they would find their new normal. "Let's get you to the couch," she murmured, her voice soft. She gently took the cup from Plankton's hand, his grip loose with sleep. Sponge Bob helped her lift his tiny form from the chair. Together, they carried him to the living room, his body relaxed in their grasp. They placed him on the couch, his antennae twitching slightly as he settled into the pillows. Sponge Bob tucked the blanket around Plankton, his eyes never leaving his friend's sleeping face. "Rest, Plankton," he whispered. "We're here." Karen nodded, her pixel eyes misting with emotion. "Thank you, Sponge Bob," she said. "For being here." Sponge Bob's smile was genuine. "Always, Karen," he said, his spongy hand giving hers a gentle squeeze. "Always."

CATCH IN MY CHIP vii (Autistic author) the only sound the steady rhythm of their breaths. Plankton's body slowly relaxes, his eye unclenching, his antennas stilling. Karen's hand remains poised, ready to offer comfort should he need it. As his breathing evens, Plankton's eye flutter open. He looks at Karen, her face a picture of love and concern. He feels a pang of guilt for his earlier outburst, but also a wave of gratitude for her understanding. He knows she doesn't push or harm, she just gets it. Karen sees the shift in his gaze, the anger giving way to something softer. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton shakes his head slightly, his antennas drooping. "No," he murmurs, his voice hoarse. "Just... needing a moment." Karen nods, her hand still hovering, a silent offer of comfort. "Take all the moments you need," she says, her voice gentle. Plankton's gaze lingers on her hand for a moment before he nods. He understands her unspoken offer, her respect for his boundaries. Karen knows that touch can sometimes be too much for him, a sensation that turns comforting into overwhelming. So, she waits, letting the air between them remain unbroken by physical contact, allowing him the space he desperately needs. The room is a canvas of shadows and quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of their breaths. Plankton slowly uncoils, his body no longer a taut wire ready to snap. "Do you want me to let you alone?" Karen asks, her voice soft as a whisper in the night. Plankton shakes his head, his eye meeting hers. The anger is gone, replaced by a weary sadness. She nods, her hand still hovering, a silent question mark. "Okay," she says, her voice a gentle caress. "But if you need anything, just tell me." Plankton takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling like waves on the shore. "Thank you," he murmurs, his eye brightening slightly. Karen nods, her hand still hovering but not touching. "I'm here," she says. "Always." Her voice is a lullaby in the quiet room, a gentle reminder that she's his anchor in the storm of sensory overload. Plankton's antennas twitch slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between them. He's aware of her presence, but the weight of his guilt and frustration is to much. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice a frayed thread of his usual bravado. Karen's hand remains hovering, a silent question, a gentle offer. "Do you want me to stay?" she asks, her voice a soft breeze in the stillness. Plankton nods, his antennas still drooping. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice a whisper of relief. Karen's hand lowers slowly, coming to rest on the bed between them. She's careful not to cross the invisible barrier of his personal space, her touch a gentle promise of support. "You don't have to be sorry," she whispers, her voice a soft caress. "You're doing the best you can, Plankton." He nods, his antennas twitching slightly. "But I snapped," he says, his voice filled with regret. Karen's hand remains still, just outside his personal space. "It's okay," she whispers, her tone filled with empathy. "You're overwhelmed. It happens." Plankton nods, his antennas barely moving. "But I shouldn't have yelled," he says, his voice barely above a murmur. "I'm sorry." Karen's eyes fill with understanding. "It's okay, sweetie," she says. She reaches out slowly, her hand hovering an inch from his shoulder. "May I?" she asks, her eyes searching his for consent. Plankton's antennas twitch, his body still tense, but he nods. It's a small gesture, but it's enough. Karen's hand settles on his shoulder, her touch feather-light. He flinches at first, his body remembering the pain of the unexpected touch, but her gentle pressure is a soothing balm. He leans into it slightly, his body language speaking louder than his words ever could. Her hand on his shoulder is the bridge between them, a testament to their love and understanding. Plankton's breathing gradually deepens, his body softening into the mattress. Karen's touch is a lullaby, a promise that everything will be okay. The room is a cocoon of quiet, their breaths the only sound. Plankton's eye droops, his body finally succumbing to exhaustion. The weight of his head shifts slightly, his trust in Karen unspoken but palpable. Her hand remains on his shoulder, a gentle reminder of her presence. She watches his chest rise and fall, his body slowly relaxing under the soft blanket of sleep. His features smooth out, the lines of anger and frustration disappearing into the pillow. As his breaths become even, Karen can't help but feel a mix of sadness and love. Her heart goes out to him, this man she's spent her life with, who fights battles she can never fully understand. The room is a sanctuary of quiet, the air thick with the scent of their unspoken words. Plankton's hand twitches slightly, and she wonders if he's dreaming of a world where the noise isn't so loud, where the colors aren't so bright, where his mind can rest without fear of being bombarded. Karen watches as her husband's chest rises and falls, his breaths deepening into the steady rhythm of sleep. The lines of his face relax, his antennas droop slightly. Her gaze shifts to the shattered trophy on the floor, the sand scattered like a tiny desert. The room is a testament to the storm that was his sensory overload. Karen's hand tightens slightly on Plankton's shoulder, her heart aching for both her husband and son. She knows the road ahead won't be easy, that they'll need to navigate this new terrain with care. But as she watches Plankton's chest rise and fall, she feels a spark of hope.

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY vi (Autistic author) "Why don't we stay in, Plankton?" Sponge Bob suggested, noticing his friend's lingering anxiety. "We can still have fun." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he considered the proposal. The thought of going outside was overwhelming. "Okay," he agreed, his voice soft. "Inside." Sponge Bob nodded, his smile reassuring. "How about a board game?" he offered. Plankton's antennae twitched in consideration. "Game," he echoed, his voice tentative. Sponge Bob's smile grew. "Yeah! Which one do you want to play?" Plankton's antennae perked up at the mention of something familiar. "Game," he murmured, his voice a little more steady. "Choose." Sponge Bob beamed at him, happy to see his friend willing to participate. He picked a simple game of checkers from the shelf, knowing it would be less overwhelming than the loud, bright electronic games that Plankton had once enjoyed. Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as Sponge Bob set up the board, his eyes fixated on the red and black pieces. "Checkers," he murmured, his voice filled with anticipation. Sponge Bob nodded, placing the checkers in their starting positions. "You go first," he said, his voice calm and steady. Plankton's antennae quivered as his eyes focused on the board. He picked up a black piece, his hand shaking slightly. "Checkers," he whispered to himself, echoing Sponge Bob's words. He placed it with precision on the board. Sponge Bob watched him. "Good job, Plankton," he said, his voice soothing. "You're doing great." Plankton's antennae twitched with each word, echoing the comfort. "Great," he murmured, his gaze never leaving the checkers. He moved a piece, his mind working quickly to calculate his next move. The repetitive nature of the game was calming, a familiar rhythm that helped him find a moment of peace in the chaos. "Checkers," he said again, his voice a little more stable. The game was a dance of strategy, and it was a dance Plankton had always loved. But now, it was more than that—it was a lifeline. The game continued, the quiet clicks of the pieces moving across the board providing a soothing rhythm to the otherwise silent room. Plankton's antennae stayed mostly still, only twitching when he felt the need to move a piece. His eye flitted from the board to Sponge Bob and back again, seeking reassurance that he was doing this right. Sponge Bob watched him, his face a mask of concentration, his spongy body still. "Your turn, Plankton," he said, his voice calm and steady. Plankton nodded, his antennae quivering slightly as he reached for a piece. He moved it with careful deliberation, his gaze never leaving the board. "Good move," Sponge Bob said, his voice a gentle encouragement. Plankton's antennae twitched in response, his eyes lighting up for a moment. "Good move," he repeated, his voice echoing Sponge Bob's tone. The words comforted him, a familiar refrain in a world that had become unpredictable. Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "Your turn," he prompted gently. Plankton's antennae quivered as his hand hovered over the board. "Good move," he murmured, echoing Sponge Bob's words from moments before. His eyes focused intently on the board, his mind racing to find the perfect place for the checker. The echo of their shared phrase was like a soft lullaby in the quiet room, a gentle reminder of their longstanding friendship. Sponge Bob noticed the comfort it brought to Plankton, the way his body relaxed slightly with each repetition. "Good move," Sponge Bob said again, his voice soft and encouraging. Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye focusing on the board. He moved a piece, whispering "good move" under his breath. Sponge Bob watched him, his expression a mix of wonder and concern. Plankton had always been so sharp, so quick-witted, and now, his brain was navigating a new kind of maze. But in this moment, as the game progressed, it was clear that Plankton's strategic mind was still sharp. His moves were calculated, precise. He was winning, and Sponge Bob could see the pride in his tiny friend's eye. Sponge Bob felt a swell of happiness as Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "King me," he murmured, placing his checker on the board's edge. Sponge Bob did so, his heart swelling with pride for his friend. "You're really good at this," he said, his voice gentle. Plankton's antennae curled with satisfaction. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice a little more stable now. Sponge Bob watched as Plankton placed the kinged piece back on the board, his eyes never leaving the game. The tension in the room had dissipated, replaced by the rhythmic exchange of checkers and echoing affirmations. "Good move," Plankton murmured again, his voice a testament to his focus. His antennae quivered slightly as he anticipated Sponge Bob's next play. Sponge Bob studied the board, his yellow brow furrowed. He knew that Plankton had always been smart, but this was something else—a silent, intense concentration that seemed to have taken over his friend's tiny form. With a soft click, he moved his piece, watching as Plankton's antennae followed the move, his eye calculating. Plankton's response was swift and confident, his antennae barely twitching. "Good move," Sponge Bob said, echoing Plankton's words. He felt a sense of awe as Plankton countered with a move that won the game. Sponge Bob's cheer was sudden, his spongy hands slapping together with joy. "You did it, Plankton!" he exclaimed. Plankton's antennae shot up, his body stiffening at the unexpected noise. His eye grew wide, the world around him seeming to shrink for a moment as he was jolted out of his focused trance. Sponge Bob's cheer had unintentionally startled him, his sudden movement a stark contrast to the calm rhythm of the game. "Sorry, Plankton," Sponge Bob apologized, quickly lowering his voice, his expression softening. "I forgot." Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae slowly lowering. Sponge Bob watched him closely, his own excitement dimming in the face of his friend's distress. "It's ok," he whispered. "You won, Plankton." Plankton's antennae gradually stilled, his breathing slowing down. He nodded, his voice small. "Won," he murmured, his eye refocusing on the board. Sponge Bob's smile faltered, his heart heavy at the sight of Plankton's distress. He knew his cheer had been too much, too soon. "Sorry," he whispered, his hand hovering above the board, unsure if he should clean up the pieces or not. Plankton's antennae quivered, his gaze lingering on the game. "Enough checkers." Sponge Bob nodded, his expression understanding. "Okay, Plankton," he said, his voice gentle. "Let's do something else." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he considered his options. "Movie?" he suggested, his voice tentative. Sponge Bob's eyes lit up. "Yea! What do you want to watch?" Plankton's antennae twitched. "Simple story," he murmured, his voice still shaky. "No loud noises." Sponge Bob nodded eagerly, quickly searching through the DVDs for a film that would be comfortable for his friend. "How about 'The Great Snail Race'?" he suggested, holding up the case. Plankton's antennae twitched with consideration. The film was a classic, a story of endurance and friendship, and his brain processed the quiet nature of the plot. "Yes," he murmured. "Snail Race." Sponge Bob's smile grew as he inserted the DVD into the player. The familiar tunes of the opening credits filled the room, and Plankton's antennae swayed gently to the rhythm, his body visibly relaxing into the soft cushions of the couch. Karen watched from the sidelines, her eyes misty with relief. Sponge Bob had always known how to reach Plankton in a way she couldn't. His simple, understanding nature seemed to break through the barriers that autism had constructed around his friend. Sponge Bob pressed play, the screen flickering to life. The soft light from the TV cast a glow, Plankton's eye fixed on the snails that began to race across the screen. Sponge Bob sat next to Plankton. He knew he had to tread carefully, to be a source of comfort without overwhelming his friend. As the snails moved slowly across the screen, Plankton's antennae stilled, the story's gentle pace a balm to his overstimulated mind. The movie's quiet humor elicited a small chuckle from Plankton, a sound that was music to Karen. She watched from the kitchen doorway. Sponge Bob had always been there for Plankton, and was grateful for his unwavering support.

CHIP AND FAIL xiv (Autistic author) Karen opened the door. Plankton's sobs filled the room. She approached him slowly, her movements careful not to startle him. "Plankton?" she whispered, her voice gentle. He was curled up on the bed, his antennae shaking with each gasp. His single eye looked up at her. "I'm sorry," he choked out. Karen sat beside him, her hand on his back in a comforting motion. "You have nothing to apologize for," she murmured, her voice soothing. "It's Chip who needs to understand." Plankton's antennae stopped shaking, his eye focusing on her. "Why doesn't he get it?" he whispered. "Why can't he see..." "Chip loves you," she said. "But he's never had to deal with this before. He's trying to understand." Plankton's antennae quivered. He knew she was right, but the pain of his son's ignorance... The door creaked open, and Chip's face appeared, his eyes red and swollen. "Dad," he began. "Can we talk?" Plankton felt a wave of anger crash over him. How could he forgive his son for not understanding? For not seeing the struggle he faced every single day? "What do you want, Chip?" he snapped. Chip took a tentative step into the room, his screen on Karen. "I just...I didn't know," he mumbled. "I'm sorry." Plankton's antennae shot up. "How could you not know?" he snarled. "How could you be so ignorant?" Chip took a step back. "I didn't mean to make it worse," he said, his voice shaking. "I just wanted to be close to you Dad, and have you..." Plankton's antennae trembled with frustration. "You think I don't want that?" he spat. "You think I enjoy being like this?" Chip's eyes widened. "No, Dad," he said quickly. "I just want to help you show..." But Plankton was drowning in anger. "You think you can help?" he sneered. "You think your naive attempts at bonding can fix what's broken?" Chip felt the sting of his father's words. "Dad, I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's antennae remained still. "Get out," he said, his voice cold. "Just leave me alone." Chip's eyes filled with tears. He had never heard such hostility from his father. "Dad," he pleaded. "I'm trying..." "I WON'T HAVE YOU PITY ME! I've lived with this my whole life, and you think you can just waltz in and 'help'? WELL, YOU CAN'T!" Plankton hissed. Karen can tell he's getting overwhelmed. With a gentle but firm tone, Karen stepped between Chip and Plankton. "Both of you, stop," she said. "This isn't helping." Her eyes met Chip's and then Plankton's. "Chip, your father is not mad at you, he's just overwhelmed," Karen explained. "And Plankton, your son is just trying to understand."

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY viii (Autistic author) Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his grip on Plankton's wrists loosening. "What accident?" he asks, his voice filled with dread. Plankton's smile is gone, replaced by a look of sadness. "Head," he says, his voice a barely-there whisper. "Hurt." He touches his forehead gently, his antennas drooping. Sponge Bob's eyes widen with realization, his grip on Plankton's wrists loosening entirely. "You got hurt?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "What happened?" Plankton nods, his antennas still drooping. Sponge Bob's confusion grows, his anger replaced with worry. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice softening. "What happened to your head?" Plankton's antennas twitch, his smile a distant memory. "Fall," he says, his voice a monotone. Sponge Bob's heart skips a beat. "You fell?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "When? How?" Plankton nods, his eye flickering with something akin to pain. "Recently," he says, his voice flat. "Head bad." Sponge Bob's eyes widen in shock, his mind racing with questions. "You fell and hurt your head?" he repeats, his voice filled with disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me?" Plankton's gaze drops to his book, his hands fluttering over the pages. "No tell," he whispers, his voice filled with regret. "Shame." Sponge Bob's eyes fill with understanding, his anger evaporating like mist in the sun. "Oh, Plankton," he says, his voice soft. "You didn't have to keep this to yourself." Plankton's smile is a pale imitation of his usual self, his antennas still. "No good," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Head hurt. Plankton bad." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with worry as he tries to comprehend his friend's cryptic words. "You're not bad, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "You've just had an accident." Plankton's gaze remains fixed on the book, his hands flapping over the pages. "No," he says, his voice a sad echo. "Head bad. Plankton bad." His body slumps, his usual vibrant energy dimmed by his distress. Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with sadness as he tries to comfort his friend. "You're not bad, Plankton," he says, his voice soothing. "You're just hurt right?" Plankton's antennas twitch slightly, his hand stilling on the book. "Hurt," he echoes, his voice a monotone. "Inside head." He taps his forehead, his eye searching Sponge Bob's for understanding. "Grey matter. Neural pathways." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his confusion growing. "What do you mean, Plankton?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "What's going on with your brain?" Plankton's hand continues to tap his forehead, his voice detached. "Neurochemicals," he says, his voice a robotic recital. "Synaptic connections. Autism." His smile is a mere memory, his eye glazed over with a faraway look. Sponge Bob's heart squeezes in his chest, his mind racing. "You're talking about your brain," he says, his voice tentative. "What's wrong with it?" Plankton's hand stops tapping, his gaze focusing on Sponge Bob. "Wiring," he says, his voice a monotone explanation. "Neuro- typical patterns disrupted affect the parts of brain when result in autism." His words are precise, his tone devoid of emotion. Sponge Bob's eyes widen with comprehension, his spongy heart sinking. "You're saying you have autism now?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton nods, his eye still fixed on the book. "Neurotypical divergence," he confirms, his voice still devoid of emotion. "Synaptic variance, myelination discrepancies." He speaks in a monotone, his words sounding rehearsed and mechanical. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears, his heart breaking for his friend. "What does that mean, Plankton?" he asks, his voice shaking. "Does that mean you're not okay?" Plankton's gaze remains on the book, his hand tracing the spine. "Neuro-typical divergence," he repeats, his voice a flat recitation of medical terms. "Synaptic connections altered. Atypical neural patterns. Autism." He speaks as if recounting a scientific paper, his tone lacking any personal connection. "When hit head, damaged the myelination," he says, his hand continuing its mechanical movement against the book. "Myelination is the insulation around the axons that speeds up the nerve impulses made in a part of brain we call the cerebral cortex. My cerebral cortex now restricts, slows down impulses." Sponge Bob listens, his mind racing to keep up with Plankton's sudden shift in vocabulary. "But what does that mean?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "How'd the damage give you autism?" Plankton's hand stops its movement along the book. "Neurodivergence," he says, his voice a clinical recount. "My brain now operates outside typical parameters. Synaptic pruning, myelination patterns altered. Atypical neural networks formed." He speaks as if discussing a complex scientific experiment, his words a jumble of medical terminology that Sponge Bob barely understands. "Does that mean you're not okay?" Sponge Bob asks, his voice filled with fear. Plankton's hand stills on the book, his gaze unfocused. "Functional diversity," he says, his voice a hollow echo of the medical lingo he's been taught. "Neurodivergence can lead to unique cognitive strengths, but also challenges." He taps the book, his antennas waving slightly. "My brain's wiring changed," he says, his voice a monotone. "Synaptic clefts widened, neurotransmitters less efficient. Restricted blood flow to temporal lobes." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with a mix of confusion and fear. "Does that mean you can't be... fixed?" he asks, his voice small. Plankton's antennas twitch, his gaze still unfocused. "Can't fix," he echoes, his voice a sad recitation. "Neuroplasticity, yes. Rewire, adapt. But cerebral cortex, permanent. Autism, permanent." Sponge Bob's eyes are wide, his mind reeling with the complexity of Plankton's words. "But, Plankton," he says, his voice quivering. "What about the Krabby Patties? Your plans?" Plankton's gaze snaps up, his hands still. "No plans," he says, his voice a sad echo. "No more steal." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his heart racing. "You don't want to steal the Krabby Patties anymore?" he asks, his voice filled with hope and disbelief. Plankton's antennas droop, his hands flapping slightly. "No more schemes," he whispers, his voice a monotone. "No more steal." His eye meet Sponge Bob's, a flicker of his old mischief briefly shining through. "But," he adds, his smile mischievous, "still have competitive spirit." His hands begin to flap with excitement. Sponge Bob's heart soars with relief, a smile spreading across his face. "So, you're still the same Plankton," he says, his voice filled with hope. "Just... different. Ok, cool!" Plankton nods, his smile a ghostly reflection of his usual self. "Different," he repeats, his voice a sad echo. "But still have friend?" His antennas wave slightly, his eye searching Sponge Bob's for reassurance. Sponge Bob's heart swells with affection. "Of course, Plankton," he says, his voice firm. "We're still friends. Nothing can change that." He squeezes Plankton's shoulder, trying to convey his support.

Agenesia is an incomplete and imperfect development of an organ or part and aplasia is absence of an organ or part. Acrania is absence of most or all of the bones of the cranium. Amelia is absence of one or more limbs. Anencephalia is absence of the brain. Hypocephalia is incomplete development of the brain. Hemicrania is absence of half of the head. Exencephalia is defective skull with brain exposed or extruded. If the protruding brain contains a ventricle which is filled with excessive amount of fluid, the malformation is a hydrencephalocele. Arhinencephalia is absence or rudimentary development of the olfactory lobe with corresponding lack of development of the external olfactory organs. Agnathia is absence of the lower jaw. Anophthalmia is absence of one or both eyes. Abrachia is absence of the forelimbs. Abrachiocephalia is absence of forelimbs and head. Adactylia is absence of digits. . Excess of Development 1. Congenital hypertrophy Hemi hypertrophy (partial) 2. Increase in the number of a part Polyotia (ears) Polyodontia(teeth) Polymelia (limbs) Polydactylia(digits) Polymastia (mammary gland) Polythelia(teats) Twins Entirely Separate Although separate, these twins are in a single chorion. One twin as a rule is well developed; the other is malformed (acardius). In the malformed foetus there is arrested development of the heart, lungs, and trunk. Such monsters may lack a head (acephalus), limbs and other recognizable features (amorphous), or the trunk (acormus). Twins United These twins are more or less completely united and are of symmetrical development. TWINS UNITED A. Anterior Twinning: The anterior part of the individual is double, the posterior single. Pygopagus – united in the pelvic region with the bodies side by side. Ischiopagus – united in the pelvic region with the bodies at an obtuse (not pointed) angle. Dicephalus – two separate heads; doubling may also affect the neck, thorax and trunk. Diproosopus – doubling in the cephalic region without complete separation of heads; only the face doubled. B. Posterior Twinning: The posterior part is double, the anterior single. Craniopagus – brains usually separated; bodies as a rule at an acute angle. Cephalothoracopagus – union of head and thorax. Dipygus – doubling of posterior extremities and posterior part of body. C. Twinning Almost Complete: Duplication of the whole trunk or the anterior or posterior extremities with parallel, ventral arrangement of the foetuses. The pair is joined in the region of the thorax, and also often in the abdominal region. Thoracopagus – united only by the thorax. Prosopothoracopagus – besides the union the thorax the abdomen, the head and neck are united. Rachipagus – thorax and lumbar portion of the spinal column united.

Acrophobia: The fear of heights Aerophobia: The fear of flying Arachnophobia: The fear of spiders Astraphobia: The fear of lightning and thunder Autophobia: The fear of being alone Claustrophobia: The fear of confined or crowded spaces Hemophobia: The fear of blood Hydrophobia: The fear of water Ophidiophobia: The fear of snakes Zoophobia: The fear of animals mysophobia (the fear of germs), trypanophobia (the fear of injections), and necrophobia (the fear of death) Some rare phobias include: Anthrophobia: The fear of flowers Arithmophobia: The fear of numbers Barophobia: The fear of gravity Chronomentrophobia: The fear of clocks Genuphobia: The fear of knees Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia: Fear of the number 666 Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia: Fear of long words Onomatophobia: The fear of names Phobophobia: The fear of phobias Nephophobia: The fear of clouds

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https://namecombinertool.com/name-combiner-with-three-names/

https://lowermerionhistory.org/home/burial-records/merion-meeting-of-the-religious-society-of-friends-quakers-2/merion-meeting-burial-list/

VoiceOver #1. EaseUS VoiceOver 💲Price: Free ⭐Rating: No, as it is newly released Easeu VoiceOver is an online free voice-over generator that can convert your written text to realistic AI voice with more than 140 languages or dialects and over 400 voices. Powered by AI, it generates a speech in a few seconds. After that, it allows you to finetune the speech, including adjusting tone, speaking speed, intonation, or adding pauses. As of now, there is no already-made anime character voice model available. However, you can choose the model with the closest sound to imitate Plankton's voice. Besides voice generation, EaseUS VoiceOver stocks some royalty-free images, video clips, and background music to help your creation. After generation, you can download your text-to-speech to MP3, WAV, FLAC, and export subtitles in SRT, DOCX, or TXT. 🌟Key Features of EaseUS VoiceOver: No signup and login are required. Support more than 450 voices in over 140 languages. Powered by AI, bring content to life in seconds. Allow to fine-tune the generated speech.

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A list of weird phobias and meanings includes: Agyrophobia – phobia of crossing roads Alourophobia - phobia of reading aloud Anthophobia – phobia of flowers Balenephobia - phobia of pins and needles Barophobia - phobia of gravity Bibliophobia - phobia of books Bovinophobia - phobia /dislike of cattle Carnophobia - phobia of meat Cathisophobia - phobia of sitting Cetaphobia - phobia /dislike of whales Ebulliophobia - phobia of bubbles Heliophobia – phobia of sunlight Hylophobia - phobia of trees, forests or wood Ichthyophobia – phobia /dislike of fish Papyrophobia - phobia of paper Porphyrophobia - phobia of the color purple Pteridophobia - phobia of ferns Sichuaphobia - phobia of Chinese food Tachophobia - phobia of speed

𝟷 𝟸 𝟹 𝟺 𝟻 𝟼 𝟽 𝟾 𝟿 𝟷𝟶 𝟷𝟷 𝟷𝟸 𝟷𝟹 𝟷𝟺 𝟷𝟻 𝟷𝟼 𝟷𝟽 𝟷𝟾 𝟷𝟿 𝟸𝟶 𝟸𝟷 𝟸𝟸 𝟸𝟹 𝟸𝟺 𝟸𝟻 𝟸𝟼 𝟸𝟽 𝟸𝟾 𝟸𝟿 𝟹𝟶 𝟹𝟷 𝟹𝟸 𝟹𝟹 𝟹𝟺 𝟹𝟻 𝟹𝟼 𝟹𝟽 𝟹𝟾 𝟹𝟿 𝟺𝟶 𝟺𝟷 𝟺𝟸 𝟺𝟹 𝟺𝟺 𝟺𝟻

😷 Face With Medical Mask 🤒 Face With Thermometer 🤕 Face With Head-Bandage 🤢 Nauseated Face 🤮 Face Vomiting 🤧 Sneezing Face 🥵 Hot Face 🥶 Cold Face 🥴 Woozy Face 😵 Dizzy Face 😵‍💫 Face with spiral eyes 🤯 Exploding Head 🥳 Face Hat 🤠 Cowboy Hat Face 🥳 Partying Face 🥸 Disguised Face 😎 Face Glasses 😎 Smiling Face With Sunglasses 🤓 Nerd Face 🧐 Face With Monocle 😯 Face Concerned 😕 Confused Face 🫤 Face With Diagonal Mouth 😟 Worried Face 🙁 Slightly Frowning Face ☹️ Frowning Face 😮 Face With Open Mouth 😯 Hushed Face 😲 Astonished Face 😳 Flushed Face 🥺 Pleading Face 🥹 Face Holding Back Tears 😦 Frowning Face With Open Mouth 😧 Anguished Face 😨 Fearful Face 😰 Anxious Face With Sweat 😥 Sad But Relieved Face 😢 Crying Face 😭 Loudly Crying Face 😱 Face Screaming in Fear 😖 Confounded Face 😣 Persevering Face 😞 Disappointed Face 😓 Downcast Face With Sweat 😩 Weary Face 😫 Tired Face 🥱 Yawning Face 😡 Face Negative 😤 Face With Steam From Nose 😡 Pouting Face 😠 Angry Face 🤬 Face With Symbols On Mouth 😈 Smiling Face With Horns 👿 Angry Face With Horns 💀 Skull ☠️ Skull and Crossbones

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✍️ Writing Hand 💅 Nail Polish 🤳 Selfie 💪 Flexed Biceps 🦾 Mechanical Arm 🦿 Mechanical Leg 🦵 Leg 🦶 Foot 👂 Ear 🦻 Ear With Hearing Aid 👃 Nose 🧠 Brain 🫀 Anatomical Heart 🫁 Lungs 🦷 Tooth 🦴 Bone 👀 Eyes 👁️ Eye 👅 Tongue 👄 Mouth 🫦 Biting Lip 💆 Person Getting Massage 💇 Person Getting Haircut 🚶 Person Walking 🧍 Person Standing 🧎 Person Kneeling

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CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xi (Autistic Author) The wind whispers through the leaves of the nearby trees, carrying with it the scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant sound of seagulls. It's a simple pleasure, but one that Plankton has often missed in his quest to protect his son from the storms in his own mind. Suddenly, the serenity is shattered as a ball comes hurtling through the air, narrowly missing Plankton's head. He flinches, his antennae shooting straight up in alarm. Chip's swing comes to an abrupt halt, his eyes wide with fear. The children playing nearby laugh, unaware of the chaos their game has brought to the quiet corner of the playground. Plankton's eye darts around, trying to process the sudden assault of sound and movement. His breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, and Karen can see the beginnings of a panic attack forming on his face. "Daddy!" Chip shouts, jumping off his swing and racing to his side. With surprising speed and grace, Chip leaps into action, catching Plankton just as he starts to topple off the swing. "Daddy!" Chip says, his voice filled with urgency as he gently guides Plankton's unresponsive body to the soft grass below. The love rock still clutches in his small hand. Karen rushes over, her eyes wide with concern. "Is he ok?" she asks, kneeling beside them. Chip nods, his chest heaving. "He has an absence seizure thing," he says, his voice shaking slightly. He looks up at Karen, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. "What do we do?" Karen's eyes fill with a mix of panic and love as she takes in the sight of Plankton, his body frozen in mid-swing, his antennae limp. She's been here before, but it never gets easier. "It's ok," she says, her voice calm despite her racing heart. "Just give him a moment. He'll come back to us." Chip nods, his grip on the love rock tightening as he watches his father. The world seems to slow down around them, the laughter of the other children fading into a distant memory. Plankton's breathing is shallow, his body stiff. Karen reaches out, placing a gentle hand on his back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. The seconds tick by like hours, each one filled with the weight of uncertainty. Chip clutches the love rock, willing his dad to come back. He's seen this before, but it never gets easier. He remembers the first time it happened, the fear that had gripped him, the feeling of helplessness as his dad's eye glazed over. But now, he knows what to do. He's not as scared; he's prepared. With trembling hands, Chip takes out the love rock, its smoothness a comforting reminder of their conversation. He places it gently in Plankton's palm, curling the slender fingers around it. "You're ok," he whispers, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside. "We’re here." Plankton's body remains still, a stark contrast to the vibrant world around them. The squeaks of the swings, the laughter of the children, the distant crash of waves, all seem to fade into the background as they wait for him to return from his brief retreat. Karen sits beside Chip, her hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. Time seems to stand still as they wait, the rock in Plankton's hand a silent testament to their newfound bond. The park's vibrant sounds muffle into a distant symphony, the world holding its breath for Plankton's return. Above them, the sun casts a warm, gentle light, the shadows dancing as if in a silent ballet of concern. The seconds stretch into eternity, each one a heartbeat of hope. Chip's eyes never leave his father, willing him back with all his might. The rock in Plankton's palm is a symbol of love and understanding, a bridge connecting them through the stormy seas of his mind. As Plankton's body remains frozen, the world around them seems to hold its breath. The rustling of the leaves above, the distant laughter of children, even the crash of waves in the background seem to hush in respectful silence. It's as if the universe itself is offering a quiet sanctuary for Plankton's return. Chip's eyes never leave his father's face, his grip on the love rock in Plankton's palm unwavering. His heart races with fear, but he squeezes the rock tighter, trying to channel the love and support he feels into his dad's unresponsive hand. Chip decides to whisper comforting words. "Daddy, it's ok," he says softly. "You're safe here with me and Mom." Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of fear and admiration for her son's courage. She watches as Chip decides to continue. "Remember the rock, Daddy?" Chip whispers. "It's my way of saying I love you." Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, a glimmer of recognition in his eye. The world around them seems to hold its breath, the very air thick with anticipation. Chip's voice is the only sound, a gentle lullaby in the cacophony of the playground. The rock in Plankton's hand feels warm, almost alive, as if it's absorbing the love Chip is whispering into it. Chip watches as Plankton's antennae slowly start to wiggle, a sign that he's coming back to them. "I'm here," Chip says, his voice barely audible. "I'll always be here." Karen's hand moves to cover Chip's, her eyes glistening with tears she's trying hard to hold back. The sight of her son's unwavering support is both heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. Plankton's chest rises and falls more steadily, his breathing evening out. The rock in Plankton's hand seems to pulse with a gentle warmth, a silent acknowledgment of Chip's words. Karen sees the tension in Plankton's features begin to ease, his antennae drooping slightly as he starts to come back to them. It's a delicate process, like waking a sleeping dragon. Any sudden movement could send him back into the storm. Chip's voice is a beacon, guiding Plankton through the fog. "It's ok," Chip repeats, his voice soothing, "You're with us." Plankton's antennae twitch again, and Karen can see the spark of understanding in his eye. Slowly, Plankton's body starts to relax. The tension in his shoulders eases, and his antennae twitch in a way that tells Karen he's listening, that he's with them again. His breathing evens out, and his eyelid flickers closed. For a moment, Chip is afraid. But then, Plankton's hand tightens slightly around the rock, giving him a squeeze that says 'Thank you'. Karen smiles, her eyes shimmering with relief. "Looks like he’s asleep," she whispers, her voice filled with a mix of humor and love. Chip nods, his own eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. They stay like that for a while, the three of them, in the quiet sanctuary of the park bench. The storm in Plankton's mind has passed, leaving them in a gentle lull. The playground's sounds slowly start to filter back in, the chatter of children, the distant hum of the city, the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Chip keeps whispering, his voice a gentle caress in the stillness. "It's ok, Daddy. You're safe." Karen watches her son with a mix of love and sadness, knowing the weight he now carries. He's growing up too fast, she thinks, but he's handling it with more grace than anyone could ask for. Plankton's hand relaxes around the rock, his breathing deep and even. The storm inside him has passed for now, leaving them with a quiet, precious moment. Chip leans into her, his voice a whisper. "Is he going to be ok?" Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. "He'll be fine," she says. "Rest is sometimes the best thing for him after an episode." Chip nods, his grip on the rock in Plankton's hand loosening slightly. He looks around the park, the world coming back into focus. The other kids are playing, their laughter a gentle reminder of the life that goes on outside their little bubble of concern. "Should we go home?" Chip asks, his voice still hushed. Karen nods. "Let's get him into the shade," she says, gesturing to a nearby tree. "The fresh air and quiet will do him good." Together, they gently lift Plankton and carry him to the cool, shaded spot. Chip is careful not to jostle him too much, his little hands supporting Plankton's head. Under the tree, Karen lays a blanket on the ground and they place him down. His antennae are still now, no longer dancing with the stress of the seizure. His breath is deep and even, his features relaxed in sleep. Chip watches him intently, his thumb tracing the smooth surface of the love rock. "He's going to be ok, right?" he asks, his voice a barely audible whisper. Karen nods, her eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "Of course, sweetie," she says. "Daddy just needs some rest."

GREAT CHIP xi (Autistic author) After a moment, she turned and walked towards the workshop door, her steps slow and deliberate. She paused, her hand on the doorknob, looking back at Chip with a mixture of pain and resolve. "I'll check on your father," she said, her voice a whisper. "You... you clean up here." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his mother's. He knew she was hurting too, but she was putting on a brave face for him. As she disappeared into the workshop, his heart felt like it was in a vice. He'd never seen his parents like this before. The kitchen was a mess of shattered dishes and splattered jelly, a stark contrast to the usually pristine space. He took a deep breath and began to collect the broken pieces, his mind racing with thoughts of his father's pain. Karen's footsteps were quiet as she approached the workshop, the door slightly ajar. She could hear Plankton's muffled sobs from inside, his tiny body hunched over his workbench. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she might find. The room was a whirlwind of half-finished inventions, wires and gadgets scattered about. Her heart broke at the sight of her husband, the usually stoic and resourceful Plankton, reduced to a tiny, shaking figure, his antennae drooped like the wilted leaves of a forgotten houseplant. "Plankton?" Karen's voice was a soft whisper, cutting through the quiet. He didn't look up, his sobs the only sound in the cluttered room. Slowly, she approached, her eyes taking in the chaos around them. "Honey," she began, her voice trembling. "I know you're upset, but..." Plankton's sobs grew louder, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Karen reached out, her hand hovering over his shoulder, uncertain whether to touch him. Finally, she decided that in this moment, space was what he needed most. She stood there, a silent sentinel, her presence a gentle reminder that she was there for him. "Plankton," she said softly, her voice a balm in the storm of his rage. "Can I get you anything?" Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his tiny frame heaving with the weight of his emotions. "No," he said, his voice muffled. Karen took a step closer, her hand still hovering. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked, her tone gentle. Plankton's antennae twitched, his head nodding slightly. It was the barest of movements, but it spoke volumes to Karen. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, careful not to press too hard. He stiffened at first, but then, ever so slightly, leaned into her. Her embrace was gentle, her touch like a soft breeze, offering comfort without smothering his pain. "I always love you." The words hung in the air, their quiet strength a stark contrast to the chaos of the kitchen. Plankton felt his body begin to relax, his sobs easing as Karen's warmth seeped in. He took a deep, shuddering breath, his antennae drooping. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I don't know..." Karen's grip tightened, her hand sliding up to cradle his head. "It's okay," she soothed, her voice a gentle lullaby. Plankton's antennae twitched nervously against her, but he didn't pull away. He knew she was there for him, even when his own mind was a tempest of confusion. "You don't have to apologize," Karen whispered. Her words were a balm to Plankton's raw nerves, and he leaned into her embrace. She knew he was sensitive post-episode, his emotions like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap. Her heart ached for him, for the fear and frustration he felt in those moments. Karen's eyes scanned the room, noticing the chaos of Plankton's workshop, his mind's refuge. Usually, the disarray was organized, each gear and wire in its place. Now, it was as though a tornado had swept through, leaving a trail of half-finished inventions in its wake. Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his body still tense under her touch. "I just... I don't want you to look at me and see something broken and unlovable.." Karen's eyes filled with tears. "You are you, and that is all I've ever loved." The words hung in the air, a gentle rebuttal to the harshness of the earlier scene. Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his breathing evening out. Chip hovered at the entrance, his heart a tumultuous sea of regret and fear. He'd hurt his father, and he didn't know how to fix it. He took a tentative step into the workshop, his eyes scanning the room. The mess was a stark reminder of the turmoil Plankton was feeling, and it only served to amplify Chip's own guilt. He watched his mother's careful movements, her gentle touch, and he desperately wanted to do the same.

CHIP AND FAIL xi (Autistic author) Karen made chum for dinner and they all sat at the table. "Thanks," Plankton says to Karen as she hands him his plate. She sits down with her own plate after serving Chip his. "Hi, Dad," Chip said tentatively, his voice a whisper in the stillness of the room. Plankton's antennae twitched, but his eye remained fixed on his plate. The silence was a wall between them, thick as seaweed and just as impenetrable. Chip's heart felt like it was sinking into his stomach, the weight of his father's silence heavier than any words could have been. Karen's screen darted between them, a silent plea for peace. She knew this was Plankton's way of dealing with his overwhelm, but it was torture for Chip, who craved understanding and connection. "So, how's your friends?" Karen asks Chip. Chip shrugs, his screen darting to Plankton, who remains silent, his antennae still. "They're okay," he says, his voice lacking its usual enthusiasm. Karen sighs internally, the tension at the dinner table a heavy fog that seemed to smother their usual banter. "Karen, can you pass the napkins?" Plankton says. "Sure," she says as she puts them in the middle. "Dad, how do you feel about the food?" Plankton's antennae twitched but his gaze remained on his plate, his mouth a tight line. The silence was a thick stew that no one knew how to digest. Chip's eyes were filled with hope, searching for any sign of his father's usual playfulness, but all he found was a wall of quiet. Chip's voice was a feeble ripple in the vast ocean of their silence. "Dad, can I get you a drink?" he offered. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, but he remained silent, his eye never leaving his plate. The air was thick with tension, like seawater saturated with the weight of their unspoken words. Chip churned with anxiety, each bite of chum a reminder of the gap that had suddenly widened between him and his father. "Please, Dad," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the clink of their forks. Plankton's antennas remained still, his eye focused on the food before him. Karen's heart was a tight knot in her chest, her eyes darting between her husband and son. The silence was a living creature, a Kraken of tension coiled around them, squeezing the joy from the room. She took a deep breath, forcing a smile. "So, Chip, tell us about your week," she said, her voice too bright, too forced. Chip took a tentative bite of his chum, his eyes on Plankton's unmoving antennae. "Well, I had a good time at the carnival," he began, his voice a sad echo of his usual excitement. "I won at the ring toss." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, but he said nothing, his silence a thick, unspoken wall. Chip felt like a deflated balloon, each of his words a futile attempt to pierce the silence. "And I met a new friend," Chip continued, his voice a feeble thread trying to weave through the stillness. "She's a dolphin. She was really cute." Plankton's antennae twitched again, just a little, but it was enough to keep Chip's hope afloat. Chip's voice grew stronger, his words a lifeline thrown into the turbulent sea of silence. "Her name's Daisy," he said, a tiny smile tugging. "We played in the bubbles." But Plankton's antennae remained still, his eye on his plate. It was as if Chip's words were bouncing off an invisible shield, unable to penetrate the fortress of his father's mind. Chip's smile faltered, his screen filling with unshed tears. He wanted so badly to share his joy with Plankton, but the wall of silence was too high, too thick. He took a deep breath, his hands clenching around his fork. "Dad, I know you're mad at me," he said, his voice trembling. "But I just want to understand." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, but he said nothing, his face a mask of indifference. The silence grew heavier with each passing moment, weighing down on Chip like an oversized sponge soaked in regret. He knew he had to try again, to bridge the gap. "Dad," he began, his voice shaky but determined. "I know I messed up today, but I want to make it right." He took a deep breath, willing the words to come. "Can you tell me more about your...about what happened to you?" His voice was a tiny bubble of hope rising in the deep sea of their dinner. Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye flickering up to meet Chip's for a brief moment before dropping back to his plate. The silence stretched on like a tight rubber band, threatening to snap. Karen's screen a tempest of concern, torn between her love for her husband and her desire to help her son. She knew Plankton needed his space, but seeing the pain in Chip's screen was like watching a piece of coral being slowly eroded by the sea. Chip's words hung in the air, like a message in a bottle lost at sea. Plankton's silence was a reef that Chip's words couldn't navigate around. He took a deep breath, his heart a conch shell echoing with hope. "Dad, I know it's hard for you," he tried again, his voice a gentle wave. "But if you don't tell me, how can I understand?" The room was a pressure cooker of unspoken emotion, the tension rising with each passing second. Karen's screen pleaded with Plankton, willing him to respond. But he remained still, his antennae unmoving, his eye a storm cloud over their meal. Chip's heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice, his words falling on deaf antennae. "Dad, please," he whispered, his voice desperate. "I just want to help." But Plankton's antennae remained motionless, his eye averted. The silence was a deep-sea trench between them, vast and unbridgeable. Chip's shoulders slumped, his hope leaking away like water through a sieve. He took another bite of his chum, the taste of it suddenly bitter on his tongue. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second a tiny hammer on the anvil of his heart. Chip forced a swallow, his throat tight with emotion. "Dad," he said again, his voice a tiny ripple in the vast ocean of quiet. "I'm sorry." The room held its breath, waiting for a response, but none came. The silence was a thick kelp that choked, suffocating any attempt at conversation.

CATCH IN MY CHIP xi (Autistic author) Karen leans in closer to Plankton, her voice a gentle whisper. "It's okay," she says, her eyes filled with warmth. "You're okay." Plankton's breaths are shallow, his chest rising and falling with effort as he shakes. The room is a cocoon of quiet, the outside world muted by the thick walls of their sanctuary. Karen's hand is a constant, her touch a reminder that he's not alone. Plankton's gaze flits to Chip, the question in his eye unspoken. "Chip," Karen says, her voice a balm to Plankton's raw nerves. "Your dad is in need of some quiet time, okay?" Her words are a gentle nudge, guiding them through the delicate dance of recovery. Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "I understand," he murmurs, though his heart feels like it's been tied in knots. He swallows his questions, his fear for his dad a lump in his throat. Plankton's antennas twitch slightly, his breathing easing a fraction. He nods, the gesture almost imperceptible. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice raspy with exhaustion. The relief in his eye is palpable. Chip watches, his own emotions a tapestry of confusion and concern. He wants to reach out, to hold his dad close, but he knows it's not the time. Instead, he squeezes Karen's hand, his silent promise to be patient and understanding. Plankton's eye closes, his body slowly relaxing into the pillow. The ringing in his ears fades, the world coming back into focus like a camera lens slowly adjusting to the light. The warmth of Karen's hand on his forehead is a comfort, his anchor in the sea of sensation. Her voice is a gentle lullaby, guiding him back to shore. "You're okay," she repeats, each word a wave lapping against the shore of his mind. The room stops spinning, the colors coalescing into distinct shapes. Plankton's gaze darts around the room, seeking solace. His eye lands on a spot on the wall, a patch of unblemished white. He focuses on it, his breaths coming slower, deeper. It's a sanctuary, a place of peace amidst the chaos. The spot becomes his beacon, the world around it a blurry periphery. Karen's hand on his forehead is cool, a balm to his racing thoughts. "Look at the spot," she whispers, her voice a soothing melody. "Just the spot." He nods, his eye locking onto the white, his breaths syncing with hers. The spot is a lifeline in the storm, a beacon of calm in his sensory chaos. Plankton stares at it, willing the world to recede. The colors around it blur, the sounds of the room dull to a whisper. It's just him and the spot, a silent pact between them to conquer the tempest. Karen's voice is a gentle wave, lapping at the edges of his mind. "When you're ready, take a deep breath. In, out. Slowly." She guides him through the exercise, her tone soothing. Plankton tries to focus, his body responding to the familiar rhythm. The spot on the wall becomes clearer, the edges sharper. The world around it softens, the colors bleeding back into the fabric of the room. His breathing slows, his chest rising and falling in time with Karen's gentle prompts. The spot is his sanctuary, a bastion of calm in the overwhelming storm. But then, it starts. The tic, a twitch of his antenna. A reminder that his mind is not entirely his own, his body a marionette to the whims of his neurodiversity. Plankton's antennas begin to still, his body gradually relinquishing the tension that had held it hostage. The tic in his left antenna, a quick spasm that had become more frequent. Karen's eyes don't leave his face, her gaze a silent support. She knows the dance of his tics all too well, a choreography that they've lived with for years. She squeezes his hand, her touch a silent promise to stand by him through the storm. It's his body's way of releasing the tension that builds up like pressure in a volcano. The tic is a tide, rising and falling, unpredictable and uncontrollable. Plankton's head jerks to the side, the sudden movement a stark contrast to the stillness of the room. Chip's eyes go wide with concern. "It's okay," Karen murmurs, squeezing Plankton's hand. "It's just your body. It's okay." Her voice is a lullaby, a gentle reminder that he's not alone. The tic subsides, his antennas returning to their usual state. Chip's eyes dart from his dad to his mom, his mind whirring with questions. "What was that?" he asks, his voice quiet, afraid to disturb the fragile peace. Karen's hand moves to Plankton's antenna, her thumb tracing the line of his twitch. "It's just his body's way of dealing with the overstimulation," she explains, her voice calm but tinged with sadness. "It's a tic, Chip. It's part of his autism." Chip nods, his eyes wide with understanding. "Will he be okay?" he asks, his voice small in the face of his father's struggle. Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tightens, her voice a steady stream of comfort. "Yes, he will," she says with confidence. "This happens sometimes. We just need to be patient and give him time." Plankton's antennas still slightly, the tremor a reminder of the storm that had passed through his mind. His breaths come more evenly now, the spot on the wall his silent companion as he finds his way back to the world. Chip's eyes are full of questions, his heart heavy with concern. He watches as his dad's body relaxes, the tension easing like a retreating tide. "I'll get him some water," Karen says, her voice a whisper. She squeezes Plankton's hand once more before rising, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet. Plankton's eye meets Chip's, his gaze apologetic. Chip swallows his fear. "Daddy?" he whispers, his voice cracking. Plankton's eye flutters open, the panic gone, replaced by a fatigue that seems to weigh down his very soul. "I'm okay," he manages, his voice a rasp. "Just tired." Chip nods, his hand tentatively reaching out to touch his dad's arm. The contact is tentative, a question and a comfort all in one. Plankton's antennas twitch again, but this time it's with the beginnings of a smile. "Thanks, buddy," he says, his voice hoarse. The room is a cocoon of silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Plankton swallows hard, the weight of his own emotions pressing down on his chest like a leaden blanket. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his gaze never leaving Chip's. Chip's eyes are pools of concern, the question in his eyes unspoken but potent. "For what?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's antennas droop slightly, his eye reflecting the shame he feels. "For scaring you," he says, his voice hoarse. "For not being able to control it." Chip's hand tightens around his dad's arm, his eyes brimming with tears he's too proud to shed. "It's okay, Daddy," he says, the words a soft whisper. "You don't have to be sorry." Plankton's smile is weak, his antennas still. "I know," he replies, his voice a whisper. "But it's hard not to be." He swallows, his throat dry from the battle his body has just endured. Karen returns with a glass of water, her steps silent on the soft carpet. She hands it to Plankton, who gratefully takes a sip, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. The tension in the room is a palpable entity, a third person in their silent conversation. "What happened?" Chip asks, his voice small, the question a balloon of curiosity floating in the heavy air. "It's just part of who I am," Plankton says, his voice still hoarse from his episode. He takes another sip of water, the coldness of it a stark contrast to his fevered skin. "My autism, it makes my brain work differently." Chip's hand is still on his arm, a silent offer of comfort. "But you're okay now," he says, his voice hopeful. Plankton nods, the motion almost imperceptible. "Thanks to Mom," he murmurs, his eye swiveling to Karen, who smiles at him with a mix of relief and love. "She's the reason I made it through." Chip looks at Karen with a newfound respect, his young mind trying to comprehend the gravity of what he's just witnessed. "You're both strong," he says, his voice steady, the fear momentarily pushed aside by admiration. Karen's smile is a soft glow, the pride in her eyes unmistakable. "We all have our moments," she says, her hand resting on Plankton's shoulder. "It's how we face them that makes us who we are." She glances at the clock, the ticking a reminder of the time they've lost to the sensory storm. "Why don't you go play for a bit, Chip? Your dad needs some rest, and I think we could all use a moment to process." Chip nods, his eyes still filled with unspoken questions. But he trusts his mom, and he can see the exhaustion etched into Plankton's face. He slides off the bed, his feet silent on the floor. With one last look at his dad, he heads for the door, the weight of the moment heavy on his shoulders. Karen watches him go, her heart aching for the fear he must be feeling. But she knows that with time and patience, he'll understand. He'll grow to see his dad not as a mystery to be solved, but as a person to be loved and supported, just like anyone else.

We only have one shot at life, make it count. Here are some bible verses about loving your enemies. Follow the word of god :) * Matthew 5:44: "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you"
 || * Luke 6:27-28: "But I say to you: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you || Please stop this drama, it is not of god. Drink water, eat food, prioritize your mental health, and have a great day everyone ✝️🙏🏻❤️

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vi (Autistic author) Plankton holds up the science book he had been clutching, the pages fluttering in his excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes flick to the book, then back to Plankton's face. "You're acting different." Plankton's smile falters, his hands stilling momentarily. "No bad," he insists, his voice a bit too cheerful. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes search Plankton's, trying to read the truth behind his words. "But you've never been this... affectionate before," he says, his voice tentative. Plankton's smile widens. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice a sing-song. "You are good friend." He leans in closer, his antennas quivering. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen further, his spongy cheeks reddening. "Plankton, what's going on?" he asks, his tone filled with confusion. "You've never said that before." Plankton's smile only grows broader. "No bad," he repeats, his voice still monotone. "Good day. Happy." He starts to rock back and forth on the bed, his hands flapping in a pattern that seems almost... happy? Sponge Bob's confusion deepens. Plankton had never been one to show affection, let alone so openly. "What's going on?" he asks again, his voice laced with concern. Plankton's response is a repetitive giggle, his eye locked on Sponge Bob's face. "Good day," he says, his hands flapping in a pattern that matches his words. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen in surprise. Plankton nods vigorously, his hands flapping rapidly. "Very happy," he says, his voice high and excited. "Best friend happy." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to concern. "Plankton, are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's giggle turns to a laugh, a sound Sponge Bob rarely hears from him. "Yes," he says, his voice still monotone. "Happy." Sponge Bob watches his friend, his heart racing. "What happened to you?" he asks, his concern growing with each passing moment. Plankton's laughter fades into a grin. "No bad," he says, his hands still fluttering in the air. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with worry. "What's really going on?" Plankton's grin turns into a frown, his hands stopping their motion. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "No bad. Happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with confusion, but he can't ignore the desperation in Plankton's tone. He reaches out, his hand resting gently on Plankton's arm. "But why are you so happy?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. Plankton's frown deepens, his mind racing to find the right words. "Because," he says, his voice strained. "I have friend. Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his hand still on Plankton's arm. "But we've always been friends," he says, his voice filled with confusion. Plankton's smile is wide, his eye unblinking. "Yes," he says, his voice still monotone. "Best friends. Happy." Sponge Bob's mind races. Something is clearly different about Plankton, but he doesn't know what. "But, Plankton," he starts, his voice tentative. "What happened to make you so... so...?" He struggles for the right word. Plankton's smile fades slightly, his gaze dropping to the book in his lap. "Book," he says, his voice flat. "Good book." Sponge Bob nods, trying to follow the conversation. "Yeah, it looks interesting," he says, his eyes searching for a clue. But Plankton's gaze is fixed on the book, his hands resuming their rhythmic flapping. "Good book," he repeats, his voice a gentle mantra. Sponge Bob's eyes flick from the book to Plankton's hands, his mind racing to connect the dots. "Is something wrong, Plankton?" he asks, his voice soft with worry. Plankton's hands stop their flapping abruptly, his eye snapping to Sponge Bob's face. "No wrong," he says, his voice earnest. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's expression is one of bewilderment. "But you've always liked your science books," he says, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the situation. "What's different about this one?" Plankton's smile returns, his hands resuming their flapping. "This one," he says, his voice filled with a newfound enthusiasm. "Good book. Happy book." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy heart swelling with a mixture of joy and concern. "What makes this one so special?" Plankton's hands flutter with excitement as he opens the book to a random page. "Look," he says, his voice a high-pitched squeak. "See?" Sponge Bob leans in, his eyes scanning the dense text filled with scientific terms. He nods, trying to appear engaged, though he has no clue what he's looking at. "Wow, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with forced enthusiasm. "That's... really interesting." Plankton's smile widens, his hands flapping in excitement. "Yes," he says, his voice a cheerful monotone. "Good book." Sponge Bob nods, still confused but not wanting to rain on his friend's parade. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it," he says, his voice warm. Plankton's hands stop moving momentarily. "Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "You are best friend." He leans in closer, his antennas quivering with excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes widen in surprise as he feels a sudden wave of warmth and affection from Plankton, something that's never been present in their usually antagonistic friendship. "What's going on, Plankton?" he asks, his voice filled with curiosity. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Plankton's smile doesn't waver. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice still monotone. "You are good. You make Plankton happy." "What's happened to make you so affectionate, Plankton?" Sponge Bob's question hangs in the air, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected warmth from his usually adversarial friend. Plankton's response is a repetitive giggle, his hands resuming their flapping. "No bad," he says, his voice cheerful. "Good day." He pats the bed next to him. "Sit, Sponge Bob. Read book." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy body frozen in place. "I don't think I can read that, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with uncertainty. "It's really complicated." Plankton nods, his smile remaining constant. "It's okay," he says, his voice soothing. "You try." He pushes the book closer to Sponge Bob, his hand guiding him to the page. Sponge Bob hesitates, his thumb flipping through the pages. The words are a blur of symbols and numbers, his mind struggling to make sense of them. "But, Plankton, I don't understand any of this," he admits, his voice filled with frustration. Plankton's hand stops him, his eye wide with excitement. "Doesn't matter," he says, his voice cheerful. "You are here. Best friend." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to concern. "But Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "You're not acting like yourself." Plankton's smile fades slightly, his hands stilling. "Self," he repeats, his voice contemplative. He looks at Sponge Bob, his eye searching his friend's face for understanding. Sponge Bob's expression is one of confusion and concern. "Is this a joke?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's smile falters for a moment before growing wider. "No joke," he says, his voice a singsong. "Happy." He pats the bed again, his hand a silent invitation. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with compassion. He sits down beside his friend. "Plankton," he starts, his voice tentative. "Is everything ok?" Plankton nods vigorously, his hands flapping with excitement. "Everything is good," he says, his voice a monotone cheer. "Best day." Sponge Bob's gaze lingers on his friend, searching for any sign of distress. "But, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with uncertainty. "You're not usually like this." Plankton's smile never fades. "Don't know," he says, his voice calm. "But now, happy." Sponge Bob's heart clenches, his fears for his friend's well-being growing stronger. "But what about your schemes?" he asks, his voice hopeful. Plankton's eye blinks, the thought of his usual plans of world domination momentarily forgotten. "Schemes?" he repeats, his voice confused. Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah, you know, your plans to steal the Krabby Patty secret formula," he says, his tone light. Plankton's smile falters, his hands stopping their flapping. "Krabby Patty?" he asks, his voice distant. "No want Krabby Patty. Happy." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy mind racing. "You don't want to steal the formula?" he asks, his voice incredulous, now really suspicious. Plankton shakes his head, his antennas swaying slightly. "No," he says, his voice still monotone. "Only happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with confusion, but he can't ignore the genuine smile on his friend's face. "Okay, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "If you're happy, then I'm happy for you." Plankton's eye lit up, his hands flapping with excitement. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "Best friend."

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON vi (Autistic author) (see notes below) * ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅɪsᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ Plankton's eye closed slowly, his breathing evening out under her calming touch. His body relaxed into the cushions of the couch, his mind still racing but his body succumbing to the siren call of sleep. The smoothie and Karen's comforting presence had worked their magic. Karen sat beside him, wrapped protectively around his small form. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, her heart heavy with the weight of the day's events. The Chum Bucket was quiet now, the silence a stark contrast to the shouts and sobs that had filled it moments before. Karen's heart breaks for Plankton yet she knows Hanna's never met him, never heard of the accident nor diagnosis. With a sigh, she picked up the phone that lay on the end table and dialed Hanna's number. The line rang once, twice, three times before Hanna's voice filled the line. "Hello?" Karen took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she had to have. "Hanna, it's me," she said, her voice calm despite the whirlwind inside her. "I need to talk to you about what happened." Hanna's tone shifted immediately, concern lacing her words. "Is Plankton okay?" Karen's grip on the phone tightened. "No," she admitted, her voice a whisper. "He's asleep now, but he's not okay." Hanna's voice was a mix of shock and disbelief. "What do you mean?" Karen took another deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. "There was an accident," she began, her voice steady. "He hit his head and..." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Acquired Autism Spectrum Disorder." The line was silent for a moment before Hanna's voice came back, filled with horror. "Oh Neptune, I had no idea!" Karen's tentacles trembled slightly as she recounted the doctor's words, the diagnosis that had turned their world upside down. "It's permanent," she whispered. "They said his corpus callosum and cerebellum were damaged. He's...he's not the same, Hanna." On the phone, Hanna's voice was a mix of sympathy and confusion. "But why didn't you tell me sooner?" Karen's sigh was heavy with regret. "We've been dealing with this alone," she explained, her tentacle tracing patterns on the couch cushion. "It's so new, so overwhelming." Hanna's voice was gentle now, understanding in a way that made Karen feel less alone. "I'm so sorry, Karen," she said, her concern genuine. "I had no idea." Karen's eyes remained locked on Plankton's face, his chest rising and falling with each breath. "It's been a rollercoaster," she admitted, her voice tight. "But we're trying to make the best of it." Karen hangs up and turns her focus back to Plankton, his small body curled tightly under the blanket. She notices the way his antenna twitches as if he's dreaming. Her hands gently adjust the blanket, her touch feather-light against his skin. Plankton's face is a mask of peace in sleep, a stark contrast to the turmoil of the waking world. His snores are faint, a soothing rhythm that fills the otherwise silent room. Just as Karen begins to relax, the door to the Chum Bucket bursts open, letting in a rush of sunlight and SpongeBob's unmistakable laughter. "Plankton?" he calls out, his voice high and cheerful. Sponge Bob's entrance is a whirlwind of energy, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that hangs over the laboratory. He doesn't notice the tension in the air as he bounds towards the couch, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees Plankton's unusual position. "Whoa, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice a chirp of curiosity. "Looks like you're taking a siesta!" He laughs, not comprehending the depth of emotion that has just played out in the room. Karen looks up from her watchful vigil, her eyes tired but determined. "Sponge Bob," she says, keeping her voice steady, "Plankton's not feeling well." Sponge Bob's face falls, his cheerfulness dimming. "Oh no," he says, his concern genuine. He approaches the couch with caution, his eyes fixed on Plankton's peaceful form. "What happened?" he asks, his voice hushed. "Is he okay?" Karen's eyes meet Sponge Bob's, full of a sorrow he can't quite comprehend. "It's been a...difficult day," she says, her tentacles tightening slightly around Plankton. "He had an accident." Sponge Bob's expression shifts from confusion to alarm. "Is he going to be okay?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. Karen sighs, her tentacle stroking Plankton's forehead in a soothing motion. "He's just...different now," she says, her voice tight. Sponge Bob frowns, his bubbles popping with worry. "What kind of different?" Karen's expression is guarded, her eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "He's been diagnosed with... autism," she whispers, the word sounding foreign even to her. "Hey, I was born with idiopathic Autism!" Sponge Bob says. "Well Plankton's got an acquired form, it's a rarity," Karen explains to Sponge Bob, her voice barely a murmur so as not to disturb the sleeping Plankton. Sponge Bob nods slowly, his understanding of the situation deepening with each word. "So his accident gave him autism; when?" "Yesterday, when he hit his head on an invention." Sponge Bob's eyes widen with realization. "Oh," he says, his voice filled with sympathy. He sits down on the floor beside the couch. "It's okay, Karen," Sponge Bob says softly, his eyes full of understanding. "We'll figure this out together." Plankton stirs beneath the blanket, his small form shifting slightly. Karen's gaze snaps to him. "Plankton?" she whispers, her tentacles poised to comfort him if his distress resurfaces. But his eye remains closed, his breathing even. Sponge Bob's expression is thoughtful as he looks at the sleeping Plankton. "You know, Karen, being different isn't so bad," he says gently. "I mean, look at me." Karen's tentacles relax slightly as she looks at Sponge Bob, his optimism a balm to her weary spirit. Karen smiles. "Tell that to Hanna," Karen mutters to herself. "Who's Hanna?" "A friend," Karen explained, her voice still tight. "She came over today, didn't know about Plankton's diagnosis. She said things she shouldn't have." Sponge Bob's frown deepens. "What kind of things?" "She said he's a burden, that maybe I should put him in an institution," she whispers, her voice shaking with anger. Sponge Bob's face falls in shock. "That's not right, Karen," he says firmly. "You don't have to listen to her. What's an institution?" "It's a place where clinically crazy people are sent to rehabilitation be 'taken care of.' But it's not like that really for neurodivergent people. It's more like a...a prison where they deprive them, and often...never make it. But mostly it's for people who are violent, which isn't the case for..." Her voice trails off as Plankton stirs again, his antennae twitching slightly. Sponge Bob looks at Plankton, his eyes filled with compassion. "He's not going anywhere, Karen," he says firmly. "You guys are like family to me. I'll help you take care of him." Plankton's single eye opens slightly, his gaze unfocused. "Shh, it's okay," she whispers, her voice a soothing caress. Plankton blinks slowly, his eye coming into focus as he sees Sponge Bob. A smile spreads across his face, a rare expression of pure joy that lights up his features. His body uncoils from its tense curl, his antennae perking up with excitement. "Sponge Bob," Plankton whispers, his voice filled with a warmth that surprises Karen. He sits up slowly, his movements calculated to avoid any jolts to his sensitive system. Sponge Bob's face splits into a beaming smile, his eyes shining with joy. "Hey, Plankton!" He says. Plankton's gaze remains fixed on Sponge Bob, his expression a mixture of gratitude and comfort. "You're here," he says simply, his voice a rough whisper. Sponge Bob nods, his smile never wavering. "Of course I am," he says, his voice gentle. He reaches out a hand tentatively, his movements slow and deliberate. Plankton's antennae twitch, then he reaches out, his grip firm but not too tight. The two of them sit there, the silence comforting rather than oppressive. **NOTEs As an autistic writer (and I used AI to help me with the words) I do not encourage the ableism people have shown in their ignorance. Depending on when and where you live, some people have thought such therapies might be good, without actually accepting nor helping. Even Hans Asperger has supported eugenics during the war, sending people to internment camps leading to demise. I came across the site autismmemorial.wordpress.com if you'd like to educate yourself about how people have endured such.*

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY vi (Autistic author) Plankton's sobs grew softer in Karen's embrace, his tiny body trembling with the weight of his emotions. "I-it's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae gently. "You can like jellyfish all you want, sweetheart." Sponge Bob watched from a distance, his heart heavy. He had never seen Plankton like this, vulnerable and hurt. He knew the two of them had their differences, but this was different. Plankton's sobs grew quieter, but the pain didn't leave his eye. Karen held him tight, filled with a fiery determination. "Plankton," she whispered soothingly. "You don't have to change who you are because of this." He pulled away slightly, his antennae drooping as he looked at her. "But what if jellyfish are all Plankton good for?" he murmured, his voice still monotone but filled with a depth of emotion that tugged at Karen's heartstrings. "Plankton, you're more than just jellyfish," Karen said, voice firm yet gentle. "You're a smart, resourceful, and determined little creature. You've always been so much more than that." The room was still, the only sound was Plankton's sniffs. His antennae drooped, and he looked up at her, his single eye red and puffy from crying. "But Karen," he whispered, his voice monotone yet filled with emotion, "it's all Plankton know now." Karen's eyes shone with empathy. "That's not true, darling," she said, her voice soothing. "You're capable of so much more. We just have to figure out how to navigate this new world together." Sponge Bob hovered awkwardly, unsure of what to do. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he offered. Karen nodded, her tentacles tightening around Plankton. "Could you be with him while I admonish Patrick?" "Of course," Sponge Bob said, moving closer to Plankton. Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he nodded. "I'll be right outside," Karen said, her voice gentle. Sponge Bob nodded, his gaze focused on Plankton's small trembling form. "I've got him," he said, his eyes filled with understanding and a newfound respect for the tiny creature before him. As Karen left to talk to Patrick Sponge Bob sat down beside Plankton, his own heart aching for his friend's pain. He knew that Plankton was going through a difficult time, and he wanted to be there for him. Meanwhile, outside the Chum Bucket, Karen found Patrick still standing there, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "Patrick," she began, her voice sharp, "You need to understand something." Patrick looked at her with his usual vacant stare. "What's up, Karen?" "You have to understand, Patrick," she began, her voice tight with tension. "Plankton's... he's different now." Patrick's smile faded as he met Karen's stern gaze. "Different?" Karen sighed, trying to find the words. "Plankton's had an... accident," she said. "It's changed him." Patrick's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean, changed?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain the complex situation in a way that would make sense to someone like Patrick. "Plankton's had a... a bump on the noggin," she said, her tentacles gesturing to her own head. "It's affected the way he thinks, the way he sees the world." Patrick's eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa, that's heavy, Karen," he said, his tone more serious than it had been in a long time. "Is he ok?" "Well, he's alive," Karen said, her voice tight with frustration. "But he's not the same, Patrick. He's... different." Patrick's smile faded as he took in her words, his eyes finally showing a glimmer of understanding. "What happened?" he asked, his tone serious for once. "It's complicated, Patrick," Karen said. "But the important thing is he's a new version of himself. So you can choose to be nice to him or just leave." Patrick's face fell, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. "But I didn't know, Karen," he protested, his voice small. "How was I supposed to know?" "It's not about knowing, Patrick," Karen said, her voice firm. "It's about being a good friend. And if you can't do that, then maybe it's time for you to rethink what friendship really means." Patrick's expression grew contemplative. "But Karen," he began, his voice tentative, "what if Plankton's... you know, not right in the head anymore?" "Patrick, that's not funny," she snapped. "This isn't a game. This is real life. And Plankton's life has changed in ways you can't even begin to understand." Patrick looked down at his feet, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of contemplation. "I didn't mean to be a jerk," he mumbled. "I know you didn't mean to," Karen said, her tone softening slightly. "But you need to be more considerate." Patrick nodded, his cheeks flushing. "I'll be nicer," he promised, his eyes darting to the Chum Bucket door. "Good," Karen said firmly, then turned back to the Chum Bucket. She opened the door to find Plankton still on the floor, clutching the jellyfish book. His antennae perked up as she entered. Sponge Bob looked up, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. "I think he's okay." Plankton sniffled, his antennae drooping. "Jellyfish," he murmured, his voice a monotone whisper. Karen's expression softened as she saw the pain in his eye. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, her tentacles reaching out to comfort him. "You don't have to be anything other than who you are." Sponge Bob nodded in agreement. "You're still the same Plankton we know and love."

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM vi (Autistic author) Sponge Bob's heart swells with compassion. "It's ok, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "We don't have to play anymore." Plankton's antennas drop, and he nods slowly. "No fish," he repeats, his voice a sigh of relief. Sponge Bob's hand freezes in mid-air, his eyes searching Plankton's face for any sign of anger or disappointment. But all he sees is a glimmer of understanding in his friend's eye. "Thank Sponge Bob for being patient." Plankton says to him. Sponge Bob nods, his eyes still filled with concern. "I'll be patient, Plankton," he promises. "Can I ask how you hit your head?" Plankton's antennas lift slightly. "Pan," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fry pan, Mr. Krabs. Only Karen and SpongeBob know." Sponge Bob's eyes widen with shock. "What?!" he exclaims. "Mr. Krabs hurt you?" Plankton nods, his antennas still low. "Pan," he repeats, his voice shaking. "Pan," he says again, his voice softer. "Krabs hit on head." Sponge Bob's anger towards Mr. Krabs is immediate and intense. "I can't believe he'd do that to you," he says, his voice low and teary. "Mr. Krabs did to protect the krabby patty." Karen interjects quickly, sensing the tension. "He doesn't know how badly he hurt Plankton." Sponge Bob's eyes narrow, his thoughts racing. He can't believe Mr. Krabs could do something like that, even in the heat of the moment. "I'll talk to Mr. Krabs," he says firmly, his voice laced with determination. "He needs to know what..." "No!" The sharpness of Plankton's voice cuts through the air like a knife, his antennas shooting up in alarm. "Mr. Krabs no," he says, his eye wide with fear. "No tell." Sponge Bob's anger fades slightly, replaced by confusion. "Why not?" he asks, his voice gentle. "He needs to know so he can understand.." Plankton's antennas quiver anxiously. "Krabs not know," he whispers, his eye pleading with Sponge Bob. "Safe here." Sponge Bob's confusion deepens. "But Plankton, if Mr. Krabs doesn't know, how will he make it up to you?" Plankton's antennas droop, his eye darting back and forth between Karen and Sponge Bob. "No make up," he murmurs. "Just no satisfaction for Krabs." Sponge Bob's mind spins with the implications. He knows Mr. Krabs would never hurt anyone that much intentionally, even Plankton; but the thought of his boss not knowing the extent of his actions troubles him. "I won't tell him," Sponge Bob says, his voice soft with reassurance. But of course, Mr. Krabs comes in. "What in the name of Neptune are ye doing? I gave ye the day off yesterday!" "The Krusty Krab is closed on Sunday, and it's Sunday today." SpongeBob reminds his boss. "Oh, right." Mr. Krabs looks at Plankton and his eyes narrow. "What's going on here?" he asks, suspicion heavy in his voice. Plankton's antennas droop even lower, and he looks down at the floor. Plankton speaks first. "Go fish," he whispers, his eye darting up to meet Mr. Krabs'. Sponge Bob steps in quickly, trying to cover for his friend. "We were just playing a game," he says, forcing a smile. Mr. Krabs eyes them both skeptically. "Well, I hope it wasn't about stealing me secret formular," he says, his claws tapping nervously. "No, Mr. Krabs," Sponge Bob says quickly, "just a friendly game." Plankton's antennas twitch slightly at the mention of the Krabby Patty formula, but he remains silent. Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow further. "What's wrong with you, Plankton?" he asks, his voice filled with concern and a touch of irritation. "You're acting strangely quiet even for you." Plankton's antennas quiver. Sponge Bob's heart paces. He doesn't want to betray Plankton's trust. "It's nothing," Plankton says, his voice forced. "Just a little game, Krabs wanna play." "Fine I'll play, but I got my eye on ye, Plankton." Mr. Krabs says, his tone still suspicious as he sits down to join them. Sponge Bob's eyes dart to Karen, who gives a nod of understanding. They'll keep the secret and hope Mr. Krabs doesn't figure it out. "Let's play Uno!" Sponge Bob says, getting out the new card game, dealing the cards. Plankton's antennas perk up at the mention of a new game, and he eagerly takes his cards. Mr. Krabs grumbles but plays along, eyeing Plankton carefully. Then, it happens. Mr. Krabs slaps a card down on the pile and excitedly yells, "Uno!" Plankton's antennas shoot straight up, and his eye widen with sensory overload. Sponge Bob's concerned, but Mr. Krabs is too busy gloating to notice. "Yee-haw!" he crows. "I win again!" Plankton's antennas quiver as he tries to process the sudden loudness and change in the atmosphere. Mr. Krabs looks at him, his expression puzzled. "What's the matter, Plankton?" he asks, his voice laced with disdain. "Lost your competitive spirit?" Sponge Bob's eyes widen. "Plankton's just excited, Mr. Krabs," he says quickly. "Isn't that right, Plankton?" Plankton's antennas wave erratically, and his voice is a mix of fear and confusion. "Yes, Krabs," he stammers, his eye darting around the room. "Uno. Fish. Yes." Mr. Krabs looks at him oddly but shrugs it off, his attention already returning to the game. "Alright, let's keep playing," he says, dealing out more cards. But Plankton's mind is elsewhere, his antennas twitching with the effort to keep up. "Fish," he murmurs to himself, trying to find a familiar word. His hands shake as he holds his cards, the world around him a cacophony of sensory overload. Sponge Bob notices Plankton's distress and quickly changes the topic. "Hey, Mr. Krabs, have you ever played Chess?" Mr. Krabs' eyes light up. "Chess? The game of kings and conquers!" he exclaims. "I'd love a round!" SpongeBob gets the chess game. The chess pieces are set up, and Mr. Krabs begins to play, his claws clacking against the board as he moves his pieces. Plankton watches, his antennas still, his eye focused. "Your move, Plankton," Mr. Krabs says, his claws tapping the edge of the board impatiently. But Plankton doesn't move. He just sits there, staring at the chessboard, his cards forgotten in his hand. "What's with you?" Mr. Krabs asks, his voice filled with exasperation. "You're taking forever!" Sponge Bob's heart skips a beat. He knows he can't let Mr. Krabs see how much Plankton's been affected by the accident. "It's ok Mr. Krabs," he says quickly. "Plankton's just thinking of his next move." Mr. Krabs grumbles but doesn't push the issue. He's too focused on his own strategy, his claws moving pieces with calculated precision. But Plankton remains frozen, his gaze unwavering on the board. His antennas twitch slightly, a sign of his racing thoughts. After several moments of silence, Mr. Krabs finally snaps. "Plankton, it's your turn!" he says, his patience wearing thin. Plankton's antennas twitch, and his eye flits to the board. "Fish?" he asks, his voice unsure. Mr. Krabs stares at Plankton, his eyes narrowing. "What do fish have to do with chess?" he asks, confusion etched deeply on his face. Sponge Bob's heart sinks as he sees the puzzlement in Mr. Krabs' eyes. He quickly jumps in. "Oh, Plankton was just thinking out loud," he says, trying to lighten the mood. Mr. Krabs grunts, but his suspicion doesn't fade. "You've always been a weird little fellow, Plankton, but this is something else," he says, his tone a mix of curiosity and exasperation. Sponge Bob's heart thumps in his chest as he tries to diverge the conversation. "Why don't we talk about something else?" he suggests, his eyes darting back to the chessboard. Mr. Krabs' gaze remains on Plankton, his eyes narrowed. But Plankton's antennas remain still, his expression vacant. "Fish," he murmurs, his voice distant. Mr. Krabs' patience thins to a thread. "Fish?" he repeats, his confusion palpable. "What's going on with you, Plankton?" Plankton's antennas wobble, his eye still fixated on the board. "Fish," he says again, his voice uncertain. Mr. Krabs leans forward, his eyes studying Plankton closely. "You okay, tiny fry?" he asks, hinting concern despite the sarcasm. Plankton's antennas quiver slightly. "Fish," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Sponge Bob's heart clenches at the word, understanding now that it's not just a game for Plankton; it's his way of trying to make sense of the world around him. Mr. Krabs, however, simply sighs and shakes his head. "You always have to make everything so complicated," he mumbles, his voice tired. "Why can't you just play the game like everyone else?" He yells tipping the board over to where the chess pieces fall to the ground by Plankton. Plankton's antennas shiver at the sound, and his eye dart to the upset board, his expression one of deep distress. "No fish," he whispers, his voice breaking. Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, his suspicion growing. "What's going on with you?" he asks again. "Fish, fish, fish!"

GREAT CHIP vi (Autistic author) Plankton's antennae twitched, his face etched with lines of fatigue. "It's not that I don't want your affection," he said, his voice hoarse. "I just need it in a way that doesn't make me feel... like I'm in a minefield." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, his mind racing to understand. "How do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity genuine. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae twitching as he searched for the right words. "It's like... sometimes, a simple touch can feel like an electric shock," he began, his voice strained. "Or like I'm being smothered by a heavy blanket of sound." Chip's eyes widened, trying to comprehend. "But you've always hugged mom," he said, his voice filled with confusion. Plankton's antennae drooped slightly. "It's different with your mother," he explained, his voice a little less strained. "She knows me, she knows my limits. And she's... patient." He paused, his eye flickering with something resembling sadness. "But others, it's..." Chip leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "What about others?" he asked gently. Plankton's antennae twitched, his expression tightening. "With others, it's... unpredictable," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and resignation. "Some days I can handle a pat on the back, and others, it's like being stabbed." Chip's eyes widened, his hand instinctively moving to his chest. "It's that intense?" he whispered. Plankton nodded, his antennae waving slightly. "Some days are worse than others," he said, his voice soft. "But when it's bad, it feels like I'm being bombarded from all sides. It's...overwhelming." Chip's brow furrowed as he tried to imagine the intensity his dad described. "What can I do to make sure I don't hurt you?" he asked, his voice earnest. Plankton's antennae perked up slightly, his eye searching Chip's face. "Just be mindful," he said, his voice softer than before. "Watch for my cues. If I look overwhelmed, if I flinch, just...give me space." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his dad's. "What are the cues?" he asked, eager to learn. "How do I know when you're in that 'minefield'?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye searching for the right words. "Well, my antennae might twitch a lot, I might get really quiet, or I might get louder. It's different every time." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "So, if you're in that 'minefield', I should just...?" "You can be there," Plankton finished for him, his antennae still. "But not too close. Make sure to get your mother." Chip nodded, his mind racing with the new information. He'd always known his dad was special, but this was a new kind of understanding. "What about sounds?" he asked, his voice tentative. "What noises set you off?" Plankton sighed, his antennae twitching slightly. "It's not just about the loudness," he began, his eye searching the ceiling as if for an answer. "It's more about the pitch, the suddenness. Like when you scratch or drop something.." Chip's eyes grew wide with realization. "Oh," he murmured. "So, it's like a surprise attack?" Plankton's antennae nodded. "Exactly," he said, his voice sounding a bit less strained. "But it's not just about the sounds themselves. It's about how my brain interprets them." Chip leaned in, his eyes filled with curiosity. "But how did you get it, Dad?" he asked, his voice soft. "Was it from something you caught or something that happened?" Plankton's antennae waved in frustration. "It's not like that," he said, his voice sharp. "I was born with it. It's just the way my brain is developed, and it's not like getting a cold!" His eye was intense, his voice rising. Chip's eyes widened, taking in his father's outburst. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae dropping slightly. "I know you didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice softer. "But it's important to understand that it's not something I can just get over. It's a part of how I am." Chip nodded, feeling the weight of his father's words. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. "I..." Plankton's antennae waved gently, his eye softening. "It's okay," he said. "I know you didn't mean to upset me. It's just...it's a lot to explain." Chip nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. He knew his dad wasn't mad at him, but it was still hard to see him so upset. Plankton's eye searched his son's face, the anger slowly fading into something softer. "Look," he said, his voice low. "I know it's a lot to take in, but I need you to know that I l-love you." Chip felt a tear slide down his cheek. "I love you too, Dad," he managed to say, his voice choking with emotion. "But I don't want you to be in pain." Plankton's antennae waved gently, his expression a mix of love and sorrow. "I know," he said. "And that's why we're talking about this. So you can understand, so you know." Chip sniffled, trying to hold back his tears. "But why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, his voice small. Plankton's antennae drooped, his face etched with regret. "I was afraid," he admitted. "Afraid that you'd think I was broken. That you'd... not love me the same. And I don't usually like to talk about it to much." Chip felt his heart ache. "Dad," he said, his voice steady despite his emotions. "I could never think of you as broken. You're the smartest person I know. And you're my hero." Plankton's antennae perked up slightly at the words, his eye filling with warmth. "But you don't see me like that when I'm... in that state," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You stared at me like I'm to be feared." Chip's eyes widened, a look of horror crossing his face. "Dad, no!" he exclaimed. "I didn't mean to!" Plankton's antennae drooped, his expression one of defeat. "It's okay, Chip," he said, his voice resigned. "It's hard to explain. It's not like I can control it." Chip nodded, his mind racing with questions and fears. He knew his dad wasn't broken, but he wished there was something he could do to ease his pain. "What happens when you're in that state?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye closed as he tried to explain. "It's like my brain's in a whirlwind, and I can't get out," he said. "Everything's spinning, and I can't focus on anything." "But why do you get so upset when it happens?" he pressed. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae stilling. "Because I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice strained. "And when it's over, I don't remember." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, his heart breaking for him. "But why don't you remember?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye opening slightly. "It's like waking up from a deep sleep," he murmured. "I know I've been somewhere, but the details are always fuzzy." Chip nodded, trying to imagine his dad's world. "What do you see?" he asked, his voice filled with awe. Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye focusing on a spot on the wall. "It's like...colors and shapes," he said, his voice distant. "They're all swirling around, so fast that I can't make sense of them." Chip's eyes grew wide with wonder. "Is it like a kaleidoscope?" he asked, his voice filled with awe. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his eye opening a bit wider. "In a way," he murmured. "But it's more... dis..." The door to the room creaked open, interrupting his thought. Karen stepped in, her eyes darting between Chip and Plankton. The tension in the air was palpable, but she offered a small smile of encouragement. "Chip, Plankton; how long have you been up?" Chip glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "A while, Mom," he said, his voice thick with the weight of their conversation.

SHELF IMPROVEMENT vi (Autistic author) Karen rummaged through the game drawer, her hands shaking slightly. She pulled out a game of memory matching, thinking the simple task might help him focus. She placed it on the coffee table in front of them, spreading the cards out. "It's your turn," she said, her voice calm. Plankton nodded. He stared at the cards, his eye flickering from one to the next. Karen watched. Would he be able to play? Would he understand the simplicity of matching pictures? He reached out with his tiny hand, paused, gaze focused on a card with a picture of a fish. Then, with a quick movement, he flipped it over. The card was a match. "Fish," he whispered, a smile creeping onto his lips. Karen felt a weight lift from her chest. He had done it, he had understood the game. Her eyes filled with tears as she matched the next card. "Good job, Plankton," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You found the match." He nodded, his antennae twitching with excitement. "Fish," he said again, his smile growing wider. "Fish, Karen." Karen felt a warmth spread through her, seeing a glimpse of the Plankton she knew, the one who loved puzzles and challenges. "Yes, Plankton, you're doing great." Suddenly, their son Chip came home from a camp trip. The door slammed, and Plankton shot up. His eye widened in fear. Karen quickly placed her hand on his back, trying to soothe him. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispered. "It's just Chip coming home." Plankton's antennae twitched as he processed the information. "Chip," he murmured, his voice quavering. "Home." Chip sees his dad but doesn't know of the acquired Autism. "Dad!" He yelled excitedly, running to him with a tight embrace of a hug. But it proves to be too much for Plankton. The sudden jolt of noise and movement sent Plankton into a spiral of overstimulation. His body convulsed, and he shook, his tiny form wracked with seizures as Karen watched helplessly as Chip only held Plankton tighter. "Chip, no!" she screamed, her voice breaking. She jumped up from the couch. "Gently, gentle!" But it was too late. Plankton's body was a blur of spasms, his eye rolled back. Karen knew this autistic response; this is sensory overload. "Chip, let go!" Karen shouted, her voice desperate. But Chip, not understanding his father's condition, only held on tighter. "Dad, are you okay?" But Plankton's body continued to convulse violently, his tiny limbs flailing. Karen's mind raced, recalling her research on autism and its sometimes intense physical responses. She had to act fast. Gently but firmly, she pried Chip's arms from Plankton's trembling body and lowered his father to the floor. "Chip, sweetie, I need you to step back," she instructed, her voice shaking. Chip's eyes were wide with fear. "Dad.." he stuttered, trying to reach for Plankton. "Chip, please," Karen pleaded, her voice tight. "Just go to your room for a bit. I need to take care of Dad." With a tearful nod, Chip stepped back, his screen never leaving his father's convulsing body. Karen turned her attention back to Plankton. "Shh," she soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, it's okay." Her voice was a gentle lullaby, trying to anchor him in the chaos. But Plankton's body continued to shake from the lingering sensation of Chip's touch. Karen knew she had to move quickly. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it beneath his head, trying to reduce the risk of injury. The seizure lasted a few more seconds, his antennae quivering wildly. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it started to gradually fade. Plankton's body went limp, his breaths shallow and quick. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice shaky with relief. "You're okay." Plankton's antennae twitched, and his eye flitted open. He looked up at Karen, confusion and fear etched on his face. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice weak. "I'm here," she said soothingly, stroking his back. "You had a reaction to Chip, Plankton. It's okay now." His antennae stilled for a moment as he focused on her voice. "Chip," he repeated, his gaze distant. "Too much." Karen nodded. "I know, Plankton. I'll explain to Chip. He didn't mean to scare you." She could hear Chip's sobs from his room, the sound piercing the silence of the living room. Plankton's antennae moved slightly. "Chip," he murmured. "Not mad." Karen felt a knot loosen in her chest. "No, Plankton," she whispered. "Chip's not mad, honey. He loves you, just like I do." Plankton's antennae twitched as he processed her words. "Love," he murmured, his gaze finding hers. "Karen loves Plankton. Chip loves Plankton." Karen nodded, swiping at her tears. "Yes, we both love you so much," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "We're going to help you through this." Plankton's eye searched her face, his expression unreadable. "Help," he whispered. "Karen helps." Karen's chest tightened with the weight of his trust. She knew this was just the beginning, that their lives had shifted in a way she had never anticipated. But she was determined to be his rock, to navigate this new reality with patience and love.

⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢁⠈⢻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⡀⠭⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡟⠄⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣷⣶⣶⡆⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣇⣼⣿⣿⠿⠶⠙⣿⡟⠡⣴⣿⣽⣿⣧⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣟⣭⣾⣿⣷⣶⣶⣴⣶⣿⣿⢄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣩⣿⣿⣿⡏⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⡋⠘⠷⣦⣀⣠⡶⠁⠈⠁⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣍⠃⣴⣶⡔⠒⠄⣠⢀⠄⠄⠄⡨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡘⠿⣷⣿⠿⠟⠃⠄⠄⣠⡇⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⢁⣷⣠⠄⠄⠄⠄⣀⣠⣾⡟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠉⠙⠻ ⠟⠋⠁⠄⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⡯⢓⣴⣾⣿⣿⡟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄ ⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⡟⣷⠄⠹⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄

https://loadreams.tumblr.com/post/704671090475253760/t%CA%9C%C9%AAs-%C9%AAs-%E1%B4%80-%CA%9F%C9%AAs%E1%B4%9B-%E1%B4%8F%EA%9C%B0-%E1%B4%98%E1%B4%8Fs%E1%B4%9Bs-%E2%B5%8A-%CA%9C%C9%AA%C9%A2%CA%9C%CA%9F%CA%8F-%CA%80%E1%B4%87%E1%B4%84%E1%B4%8F%E1%B4%8D%E1%B4%8D%E1%B4%87%C9%B4%E1%B4%85-%CA%8F%E1%B4%8F%E1%B4%9C-%E1%B4%9B%E1%B4%8F Tʜɪs ɪs ᴀ ʟɪsᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴏsᴛs ⵊ ʜɪɢʜʟʏ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ https://loadreams.tumblr.com/post/704671090475253760/t%CA%9C%C9%AAs-%C9%AAs-%E1%B4%80-%CA%9F%C9%AAs%E1%B4%9B-%E1%B4%8F%EA%9C%B0-%E1%B4%98%E1%B4%8Fs%E1%B4%9Bs-%E2%B5%8A-%CA%9C%C9%AA%C9%A2%CA%9C%CA%9F%CA%8F-%CA%80%E1%B4%87%E1%B4%84%E1%B4%8F%E1%B4%8D%E1%B4%8D%E1%B4%87%C9%B4%E1%B4%85-%CA%8F%E1%B4%8F%E1%B4%9C-%E1%B4%9B%E1%B4%8F # Neville’s archive by @muselogy # methods hold no power by @nakedbibi333 # thoughts by anon on @sexydreamgirl # eiypo by @celestial-heartbeat # states by @23209 #lexicon by @23209 #effort by @lavender–fairy # revision by @sirensplayhouse # waiting for your desires by @venstark #sp guide by @celestial-heartbeat # manifest DF by @id18297 #you’re above all by @sparklingself # being by Aphroditeapprenticee (deactivated) # laws by @sutheworld # Edward art series by @lotusmi # self conception by anon on @sparklingself blog #void by @arabella111 # all is within by @vesora # the root of your desire by @neobora # you create the rules by @fleurlx #logic by @princessofangiemania # fulfill in imagination by @remcycl333 # leaving the old story by @blushydior # Movement by @venusvxen https://loadreams.tumblr.com/post/704671090475253760/t%CA%9C%C9%AAs-%C9%AAs-%E1%B4%80-%CA%9F%C9%AAs%E1%B4%9B-%E1%B4%8F%EA%9C%B0-%E1%B4%98%E1%B4%8Fs%E1%B4%9Bs-%E2%B5%8A-%CA%9C%C9%AA%C9%A2%CA%9C%CA%9F%CA%8F-%CA%80%E1%B4%87%E1%B4%84%E1%B4%8F%E1%B4%8D%E1%B4%8D%E1%B4%87%C9%B4%E1%B4%85-%CA%8F%E1%B4%8F%E1%B4%9C-%E1%B4%9B%E1%B4%8F

⠀݂⠀🦪⠀֯⠀ ᮫⠀ ⛤⠀ׄ⠀ 𓍢ִ⠀܄⠀ʬ ⭑ ˙ 𓍯⠀ׄ⠀🦋﹔ 𝓭ₒₙ'ₜ 𝓬ₒₚᵧ 𝔀ₒᵣₖ ᵳᵣₒₘ ₐₙₒₜₕₑᵣ, ₜₕₑ ₛₐₜᵢₛᵳₐ𝓬ₜᵢₒₙ ₒᵳ ₛᵤ𝓬𝓬ₑₛₛ ᵢₛ ₒₙₗᵧ ᵳₑₗₜ 𝔀ₕₑₙ ᵧₒᵤ 𝓭ₒ ᵧₒᵤᵣ ₒ𝔀ₙ 𝓭ᵤₜᵧ.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢞⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣀⣠⠞⠁⢸⢀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣧⢀⠴⢃⠓⣌⠠⠙⢦⡀⣾⡟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣉⣻⡆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣸⣿⠄⢣⡉⠖⡄⢓⢅⠂⡙⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠐⡤⢀⢤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣀⢀⠠⣊⣼⣿⠘⣄⠚⢤⠉⡖⡨⢑⣄⢿⣇⠀⣀⢀⢠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡘⣰⣿⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⢤⣿⡿⠿⢟⠡⣊⠤⣉⠆⢣⠔⡡⢣⠄⡙⢿⢿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠘⣤⣾⠟⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠆⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⠴⣿⡧⢉⠆⡱⡐⢢⠡⠚⡄⢎⡑⢢⠑⣌⣶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡐⢤⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⡔⣿⣇⠣⣘⠡⠜⡡⢊⠕⡨⢂⠜⣠⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⣡⣼⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡌⣿⣇⠒⢤⡉⣒⠡⢃⠜⡠⣃⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢔⣡⣾⠿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡌⣿⡧⢉⠆⠴⡁⢎⠰⣨⣶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⣡⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡌⣿⣇⠣⣘⠡⡘⣤⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⣑⣾⡿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡌⣿⡧⠑⡄⣣⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢊⣴⣿⠛⣄⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠇⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⡘⣿⣇⣣⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢊⣴⣿⠟⣠⠙⣄⠓⣅⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⠱⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢊⣴⣿⠟⢡⡘⠤⡩⢐⢣⡐⠓⣅⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⢀⢼⣿⠆⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⢙⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢊⣴⣿⠟⡡⢊⠖⣈⠖⡡⢃⠆⣉⠖⡨⢑⢆⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⠞⠁⢀⡴⢉⠼⣿⡃⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢊⣴⣿⠟⡡⢊⡔⢣⠘⡄⠎⡔⡡⠚⡄⢎⡑⢣⢌⠱⢆⠈⠳⣄⠀ ⢾⣷⣶⣶⡁⡆⢇⢸⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢏⣿⡿⢁⠎⡁⢇⠸⣀⢉⢰⠉⡰⢁⠷⡈⢆⡸⢰⠈⠶⣈⣷⣶⣾⡷ ⠀⠙⢷⣭⢟⣮⡰⢸⣿⡅⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⢲⣵⡿⡋⢆⡩⢒⡉⢆⠱⢂⠥⢊⠴⣁⠣⢂⡍⠢⠔⡡⢊⣴⡿⣯⡿⠋⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣶⡹⢮⣿⠆⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡶⠷⢾⣿⡏⢢⠱⢌⡰⢡⡘⢌⢒⡉⢆⣉⠒⠤⢃⠣⢌⠱⣈⣴⣿⣻⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣽⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⢠⡿⡑⢢⢃⠲⢄⠣⣘⠰⢊⠔⡊⢤⠙⡌⡌⠱⣈⡶⣟⣿⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⡅⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢹⣿⣤⣤⣤⡾⠗⣈⠦⡑⢪⢄⡓⠤⠓⡌⣒⡉⠦⡑⠰⣈⣵⡾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣢⣼⣿⠟⣉⣍⠩⢔⠣⣌⢢⢑⠢⣌⠘⡌⢓⡘⢤⡘⢤⡁⣧⣿⢯⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢒⣾⣛⣛⠛⠛⠛⢛⣿⠃⣶⣟⣛⠛⠛⠛⠻⣮⣦⣼⡾⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣋⣠⡾⠛⠛⠛⠛⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢊⣴⣿⠟⣻⡟⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⢡⠙⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢚⣤⣿⠟⡡⢺⣿⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⢄⠣⣸⡿⠁⠀⢀⣾⠛⡟⣻⣿⡟⠀⠀⢠⡿⠛⠛⠛⣿⠃⠀⠀⣰⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢘⣰⣿⠟⣡⠚⢄⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⣿⠃⡜⢠⣿⠇⠀⠀⣸⡟⣤⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⣰⡏⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢄⣱⣾⡿⢧⡘⡄⢃⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⢸⢈⣼⡏⠀⠀⢰⣿⣾⣟⡿⣻⠇⠀⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠆⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⣡⣾⠟⠙⢿⣳⡝⢮⣰⡿⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⡄⢣⢸⡿⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⡿⠋⢰⡟⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣇⠐⡠⢄⠠⠠⢔⣡⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣧⣿⢃⡀⣀⢀⡛⣿⡧⢡⣿⣃⣀⣀⣸⣻⡏⠀⠀⣾⣁⣀⣀⣜⣿⠆⠀⢠⣟⣀⣀⣀⣛⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣟⢿⣻⠛⡛⢛⠡⢂⣽⡿⣿⡿⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣽⣹⢬⡂⣱⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣧⢻⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Types Deltacism (from the Greek letter Δ) is a difficulty in producing /d/ sound. Etacism is a difficulty in producing e sound Gamacism is a difficulty in producing /ɡ/ sound Hitism is a difficulty in producing /h/ sound. Iotacism is a difficulty in producing /j/ sound. Kapacism is a difficulty in producing /k/ sound. Lambdacism (from the Greek letter λ) is the difficulty in pronouncing lateral consonants. Rhotacism is a difficulty producing rhotic consonants sounds in the respective language's standard pronunciation. In Czech there is a specific type of rhotacism called rotacismus bohemicus which is an inability to pronounce the specific sound ⟨ř⟩ /r̝/. Sigmatism is a difficulty of producing /s/, /z/ and similar sounds. Tetacism is a difficulty of producing /t/ sound. Tetism is replacement of /s/, /k/ and similar sounds with /t/ and of /z/ and similar sounds with /d/.

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8ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁☾

𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑗𝑖 𝑜𝑖𝑠16🕒

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

April Holidays by Day I April 1 - April Fool’s Day; International Fun at Work Day; Sourdough Bread Day April 2 - National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day; Autism Awareness Day April 3 - World Party Day; Find a Rainbow Day; Chocolate Mousse Day April 4 - NCAA Basketball Championship April 5 - Deep Dish Pizza Day; National Dandelion Day; Caramel Day April 6 - National Caramel Popcorn Day; National Student Athlete Day April 7 - National Beer Day; National Coffee Cake Day April 8 - Zoo Lover’s Day; Empanada Day April 9 - Winston Churchill Day; Unicorn Day April 10 - Golfer’s Day; National Siblings Day April 11 - National Pet Day April 12 - Grilled Cheese Sandwich Day; National Licorice Day; International Day of Human Space Flight April 13 - International Plant Appreciation Day; Peach Cobbler Day April 14 - National Dolphin Day; National Pecan Day; Look at the Sky Day April 15 - Tax Day April 16 - National Librarian Day; National Orchid Day April 17 - National Cheeseball Day April 18 - National Stress Awareness Day April 19 - National Hanging Out Day ; National Garlic Day April 20 - National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day; National Banana Day April 21 - Kindergarten Day April 22 - Earth Day; Girl Scout Leader Day April 23 - National Picnic Day; National Cherry Cheesecake Day April 24 - Pig in a Blanket Day April 25 - National DNA Day; National Zucchini Bread Day April 26 - National Pretzel Day April 27 - Babe Ruth Day; National Prime Rib Day; Gummi Bear Day April 28 - International Astronomy Day; Blueberry Pie Day; Superhero day April 29 - Arbor Day April 30 - Hairstyle Appreciation Day; International Jazz Day; Oatmeal Cookie Day; Raisin Day

sh🇸𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

https://www.l-ags.org/County_Death_Records_II/all.html

August Holidays by Day August 1 - National Girlfriend Day August 2 - National Ice Cream Sandwich Day August 3 - National Watermelon Day August 4 - National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day August 5 - International Beer Day August 6 - National Mustard Day August 7 - Friendship Day; Raspberries N' Cream Day August 7 - Sisters Day (1st Sunday in August) August 8 - International Cat Day; Frozen Custard Day August 9 - Book Lover’s Day; Rice Pudding Day August 10 - National S’mores Day August 11 - Son and Daughter Day August 12 - World Elephant Day August 13 - Middle Child Day (2nd Saturday in August) August 14 - Creamsicle Day August 15 - Relaxation Day; Lemon Meringue Pie Day August 16 - National Roller Coaster Day, National Tell a Joke Day August 17 - National Thrift Shop Day August 18 - Serendipity Day; National Fajita Day August 19 - National Potato Day, Aviation Day August 20 - National Honey Bee Awareness Day (3rd Sunday in August) August 21 - Senior Citizens Day August 22 - Be an Angel Day; National Bao Day August 23 - Ride the Wind Day; National Sponge Cake Day August 24 - National Waffle Day; National Peach Pie Day August 25 - National Banana Split Day August 26 - National Dog Day August 27 - Just Because Day August 28 - National Cherry Turnovers Day August 29 - National Lemon Juice Day August 30 - Toasted Marshmallow Day; Beach Day August 31 - National Eat Outside Day; National Trail Mix Day

January 01/01 – Beginning of Dry January/ Ginuary/ Veganuary 01/01 – New Year’s Day (bank holiday) 02/01 – Bank holiday (Scotland only) 03/01 – Festival of Sleep Day 04/01 – World Braille Day 05/01 – Twelfth Night/ National Bird Day 06/01 – National Shortbread Day 12/01 – Kiss a Ginger Day 13/01 – Plough Monday 17/01 – International Mentoring Day 19/01 – World Religion Day 20/01 – Blue Monday 21/01 – National Hug Day 24/01 – International Day of Education 25/01 – Burns Night 26/01 – Australia Day 26/01 – Spouse’s Day 27/01 – International Holocaust Memorial Day/ Chocolate Cake Day 29/01 – Chinese (Lunar) New Year 31/01 – Start of Six Nations Rugby Championship February 01/02 – LGBT History Month begins 02/02 – Groundhog Day 03/02 – National Sickie Day/ Children’s Mental Health Week begins 07/02 – National Send a Card to a Friend Day 09/02 – National Pizza Day/ American Football Super Bowl 11/02 – Safer Internet Day/ International Day of Women and Girls in Science 13/02 – World Radio Day 14/02 – Library Lovers’ Day/Valentine’s Day 15/02 – NSDesign’s birthday (just saying!) 16/02 – BAFTA Awards 17/02 – Random Acts of Kindness Day 20/02 – World Day of Social Justice/ Start of London Fashion Week 21/02 – Care Day/ International Mother Language Day 22/02 – World Thinking Day 28/02 – Ramadan begins/ Rare Disease Day March 01/03 – Start of Women’s History Month 01/03 – St. David’s Day/ BRIT Awards/ Zero Discrimination Day 03/03 – Academy Awards (The Oscars)/ World Wildlife Day/ World Hearing Day/ COVID-19 National Day of Reflection 04/03 – Pancake Day (Shrove Tuesday) 06/03 – World Book Day 08/03 – International Women’s Day 10/03 – Commonwealth Day 12/03 – National No Smoking Day 13/03 – International School Meals Day 14/03 – Pi Day/ World Sleep Day 17/03 – St. Patrick’s Day 18/03 – Global Recycling Day 20/03 – International Day of Happiness 21/03 – Red Nose Day/ Great British Spring Clean starts/ World Poetry Day 22/03 – World Water Day/ Earth Hour 23/03 – World Meteorological Day 25/03 – International Day of Remembrance of the Victims of Slavery and the Transatlantic Slave Trade 30/03 – World Bipolar Day 30/03 – Mother’s Day (Mothering Sunday)/ Clocks go forward/ End of Ramadan April 01/04 – April Fools’ Day/ Start of National Pet Month 02/04 – World Autism Awareness Day 05/04 – International Day of Conscience/ Grand National 07/04 – World Health Day/ US Masters Golf begins 10/04 – National Siblings Day 15/04 – World Art Day 18/04 – Good Friday (bank holiday) 20/04 – Easter Sunday 21/04 – Easter Monday (bank holiday)/ World Creativity and Innovation Day/ National Tea Day 22/04 – Earth Day 23/04 – St George’s Day/ Shakespeare Day 24/04 – International Girls in ICT Day 26/04 – World Intellectual Property Day 27/04 – London Marathon 28/04 – World Day for Safety and Health at Work 29/04 – International Dance Day/start of National Gardening Week May 01/01 – World Password Day 04/05 – May the Fourth (Star Wars Day) 05/05 – Early May bank holiday/ Deaf Awareness Week begins 06/05 – World Asthma Day 08/05 – World Red Cross Day 11/05 – Eat What You Want Day/ Garden Day 12/05 – Start of Mental Health Awareness Week 14/05 – National Children’s Day 15/05 – International Day of Families 17/05 – Men’s FA Cup Final/ World Telecommunication and Information Society Day 18/05 – Women’s FA Cup Final/ British Sandwich Week begins 20/05 – Chelsea Flower Show starts/ World Bee Day 21/05 – National Numeracy Day/ International Tea Day/ World Meditation Day 22/05 – World Goth Day 23/05 – World Turtle Day 26/05 – Spring bank holiday/ Gloucester Cheese Rolling Day/ National BBQ Week starts 27/05 – Sunscreen Day 28/05 – World Hunger Day 29/05 – National Biscuit Day 31/05 – UEFA Champions League Final June 01/06 – Beginning of Pride Month/ Global Day of Parents 03/06 – World Bicycle Day 04/06 – Global Running Day 05/06 – World Environment Day 06/06 – National Fish and Chips Day 07/06 – The Big Lunch 08/06 – World Oceans Day/ National Best Friends Day 15/06 – Father’s Day/ National Beer Day 17/06 – Royal Ascot begins 18/06 – International Picnic Day 20/06 – National Clean Air Day 21/06 – Summer solstice/ King’s Official Birthday 22/06 – Windrush Day 25/06 – National Writing Day 27/06 – Micro, Small and Medium-sized Enterprises Day 30/06 – Wimbledon Tennis Championships begins/ World Social Media Day July 01/07 – Henley Royal Regatta begins 03/07 – British Grand Prix begins 04/07 – Independence Day (USA)/ National Thank You Day 05/07 – London Pride parade/ Tour de France 07/07 – World Chocolate Day 11/07 – World Population Day 15/07 – World Youth Skills Day 17/07 – World Day for International Justice/ World Emoji Day 18/07 – Nelson Mandela International Day 20/07 – National Ice Cream Day 24/07 – National Tequila Day/ International Self-Care Day 27/07 – UEFA Women’s Euros Final 29/07 – National Lipstick Day 30/07 – International Day of Friendship August 01/08 – Yorkshire Day/ International Beer Day 03/08 – Sisters’ Day 04/08 – Summer bank holiday (Scotland only) 08/08 – International Cat Day 10/08 – International Update Your Bio Day 12/08 – International Youth Day 13/08 – International Left-Handers Day/ National Prosecco Day 15/08 – National Relaxation Day 19/08 – World Humanitarian Day/ World Photography Day 21/08 – World Entrepreneurs’ Day/ British Masters Golf begins 25/08 – Summer bank holiday 26/08 – International Dog Day 28/08 – National Burger Day September 05/09 – International Day of Charity 08/09 – International Literacy Day 10/09 – World Suicide Prevention Day 16/09 – International Day for the Preservation of the Ozone Layer 18/09 – International Equal Pay Day 20/09 – World Cleanup Day/ Oktoberfest begins 21/09 – International Day of Peace 23/09 – International Day of Sign Languages 26/09 – British Food Fortnight begins 27/09 – World Tourism Day October 01/10 – UK Black History Month begins/ World Vegetarian Day/ International Coffee Day 02/10 – National Poetry Day 04/10 – World Animal Day/ National Taco Day 05/10 – World Teachers’ Day/ Grandparents’ Day 10/10 – World Mental Health Day/ World Homelessness Day/ World Egg Day 15/10 – Global Handwashing Day 20/10 – Divali 21/10 – Back to the Future Day 25/10 – World Pasta Day 26/10 – Clocks go back 29/10 – RSPB Feed the Birds Day 31/10 – Halloween/ World Cities Day November 01/11 – Start of Movember/ World Vegan Day/ National Author’s Day 03/11 – Sandwich Day 04/11 – National Roast Dinners Day 05/11 – Bonfire Night/ National Stress Awareness Day 13/11 – World Kindness Day 14/11 – World Diabetes Day 19/11 – World Toilet Day 20/11 – World Children’s Day 21/11 – World Television Day 28/11 – Black Friday 29/11 – Small Business Saturday 30/11 – St Andrew’s Day December 01/12 – World AIDS Day/ Cyber Monday/ St Andrew’s Day (substitute bank holiday, Scotland only) 02/12 – International Day for the Abolition of Slavery/ Giving Tuesday 03/12 – International Day of Disabled Persons 05/12 – International Volunteer Day/ World Soil Day 08/12 – Green Monday 10/12 – Human Rights Day 11/12 – Christmas Jumper Day 14/12 – Free Delivery Day 19/12 – Mad Friday 20/12 – Super Saturday 24/12 – Christmas Eve 25/12 – Christmas Day 26/12 – Boxing Day 31/12 – New Year’s Eve

May Holidays by Day May 1 - Hawaiian Lei Day; School Principals' Day May 2 - National Truffle Day; International Harry Potter Day; Brothers and Sisters Day May 3 - Garden Meditation Day; National Teacher Appreciation Day May 4 - Star War’s Day; Orange Juice Day; Bird Day May 5 - Cinco De Mayo May 6 - National Nurses’ Day; National Beverage Day May 7 - National Day of Prayer May 8 - Mother’s Day; No Socks Day; Coconut Cream Pie Day May 9 - Lost Sock Memorial Day; National Butterscotch Brownie Day May 10 - Clean Up Your Room Day May 11 - Eat What You Want Day May 12 - Limerick Day; International Nurses Day May 13 - National Apple Pie Day May 14 - Dance Like a Chicken Day , National Windmill Day May 15 - World Baking Day; National Chocolate Chip Day; Police Officer’s Memorial Day May 16 - Love a Tree Day; National Sea Monkey Day; Barbecue Day May 17 - Pack Rat Day; Walnut Day May 18 - International Museum Day ; Visit Your Relatives Day May 19 - Boy’s Club Day; Devil's Food Cake Day May 20 - Pick Strawberries Day ; Bike to Work Day (or third Friday of the month) May 21 - National Waiters and Waitresses Day; Strawberries and Cream Day May 22 - World Goth Day; Vanilla Pudding Day May 23 - Lucky Penny Day, World Turtle Day; National Taffy day May 24 - International Tiara Day May 25 - National Wine Day May 26 - National Blueberry Cheesecake Day; National Paper Airplane Day May 28 - National Hamburger Day May 29 - Indy 500 May 30- Memorial Day May 31 - National Macaroon Day

June Holidays by Day June 1 - Dare Day; Flip a Coin Day; Olive Day June 2- National Rocky Road Day June 3 - World Bicycle Day; National Donut Day (or first Friday in June); Egg Day June 4 - Applesauce Cake Day; Hug Your Cat Day; Cheese Day June 5 - Hot Air Balloon Day; National Frozen Yogurt Day; Gingerbread Day June 6 - National Higher Education Day; National Yo-Yo Day June 7 - National Chocolate Ice Cream Day June 8 - National Best Friends Day June 9 - Donald Duck Day; National Strawberry Rhubarb Pie Day June 10 - Iced Tea Day; Herbs and Spices Day June 11 - National Corn on the Cob Day; German Chocolate Cake Day June 12- National Peanut Butter Cookie Day; National Jerky Day June 13 - National Weed Your Garden Day June 14 - Flag Day; Strawberry Shortcake Day June 16 - National Fudge Day June 17 - Eat Your Vegetables Day; National Cherry Tart Day June 18- International Sushi Day; Go Fishing Day; National Splurge Day June 19 - National Kissing Day; Juneteenth Fathers Day (or third Sunday in June) June 21 - First Day of Summer; Peaches 'N' Cream Day; Smoothie Day June 22 - Chocolate Éclair Day; National Onion Ring Day; Kissing Day June 23- Let It Go Day; Hydration Day; Pecan Sandies Day; Pink Day June 24 - National Food Truck Day (or 4th Friday in June) June 25 - National Catfish Day June 26 - National Canoe Day; Forgiveness Day; Chocolate Pudding Day; Coconut Day June 27- National Onion Day June 29 - Waffle Iron Day June 30 - National Handshake Day (or last Thursday in June); Social Media Day; Bomb Pop Day

July Holidays by Day July 1 - International Joke Day; International Chicken Wing Day; Gingersnap Day July 2 - World UFO Day July 4 - U.S. Independence Day; Caesar Salad Day July 5 - National Apple Turnover Day; Graham Cracker Day July 6 - International Kissing Day; National Fried Chicken Day July 7 - Chocolate Day; National Strawberry Sundae Day; Macaroni Day July 8 - National Blueberry Day July 9 - National Sugar Cookie Day July 10 - Pina Colada Day; Kitten Day July 11 - National Blueberry Muffin Day July 12 - Pecan Pie Day July 13 - National French Fries Day July 14 - National Macaroni and Cheese Day; Shark Awareness Day July 15 - Cow Appreciation Day; Tapioca Pudding Day July 16 - National Corn Fritters Day; National Personal Chef's Day July 17 - National Ice Cream Day (3rd Sunday of the Month), World Emoji Day July 18 - National Caviar Day July 19 - National Raspberry Cake Day July 20 - Ice Cream Soda Day; Hot Dog Day; Lollipop Day; Moon Day July 21 - National Junk Food Day July 22 - National Mango Day July 23 - National Day of the Cowboy (4th Saturday in July); Vanilla Ice Cream Day July 24 - National Tequila Day; Cousins Day July 25 - National Chili Dog Day; Hot Fudge Sundae Day; Wine and Cheese Day July 26 - All or Nothing Day; Aunt and Uncle Day July 27 - Take Your Plants for a Walk Day July 28 - National Milk Chocolate Day; Waterpark Day; Intern Day; Chili Dog Day July 29 - National Lipstick Day; Chicken Wing Day; Lasagna Day July 30 - Father-in-Law Day; National Cheesecake Day July 31 - National Avocado Day; National Watermelon Day; Raspberry Cake Day

April 1: April Fool’s Day #AprilFoolsDay April 2: World Autism Awareness Day #WorldAutismAwarenessDay April 2: National DIY Day #NationalDIYDay April 3: World Party Day #WorldPartyDay April 4: Tell a Lie Day #TellALieDay April 5: National Flash Drive Day #NationalFlashDriveDay April 5: Walk to Work Day #WalkToWorkDay April 6: National Student-Athlete Day #NationalStudentAthleteDay April 6: National Carbonara Day #NationalCarbonaraDay April 7: National Beer Day #NationalBeerDay (US) April 7: World Health Day #WorldHealthDay April 10: Siblings’ Day #NationalSiblingsDay April 11: 🐾 National Pet Day #NationalPetDay April 12: Grilled Cheese Sandwich Day #GrilledCheeseDay April 12: International Lawyers’ Day (#InternationalLawyersDay) April 13: International Plant Appreciation Day #PlantAppreciationDay April 13: National Scrabble Day #NationalScrabbleDay April 14: National Gardening Day #NationalGardeningDay April 15: National Laundry Day #NationalLaundryDay April 15: Tax Day #TaxDay April 16: National Librarian Day #NationalLibrarianDay April 17: National Cheese Ball Day #NationalCheeseBallDay April 18: National Lineman Appreciation Day #NationalLinemanAppreciationDay April 20: 420 #420 April 20: Volunteer Recognition Day #VolunteerRecognitionDay April 21: Kindergarten Day #KindergartenDay April 22: 🌎 Earth Day #EarthDay April 23: National Picnic Day #NationalPicnicDay April 24: World Laboratory Day #WorldLaboratoryDay April 24: Pigs in a Blanket Day #PigsInABlanketDay April 25: National Mani and Pedi Day #NationalManiPediDay April 25: World Penguin Day #WorldPenguinDay April 28: National Superhero Day #NationalSuperheroDay April 29: International Dance Day #InternationalDanceDay April 30: Independent Book Store Day #IndependentBookStoreDay April 30: International Jazz Day #InternationalJazzDay April 30: Healthy Kids Day #HealthyKidsDay

May 1: May Day #MayDay May 3: National Space Day #SpaceDay May 4: Star Wars Day #StarWarsDay, #MayThe4thBeWithYou May 4: National Fitness Day #NationalFitnessDay May 5: Cinco de Mayo #CincoDeMayo May 6: International No Diet Day #NoDietDay May 6-10: Teacher Appreciation Week #TeacherAppreciationWeek May 9: National Moscato Day #NationalMoscatoDay May 10: National Small Business Day #SmallBusinessDay May 11: Twilight Zone Day #TwilightZoneDay May 11: Fair Trade Day #FairTradeDay May 12: 👩‍👧‍👦 Mother’s Day #MothersDay May 12: International Nurses Day #InternationalNursesDay May 15: International Family Day #FamilyDay May 17: National Graduation Tassel Day #GraduationTasselDay May 17: International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia #IDAHOT May 17: World Baking Day #WorldBakingDay May 18: 💉 National HIV Vaccine Awareness Day #HIVVaccineAwarenessDay May 18: International Astronomy Day #InternationalAstronomyDay May 18: International Museum Day #MuseumDay May 18: Visit Your Relatives Day #VisitYourRelativesDay May 20: National Rescue Dog Day #RescueDogDay May 22: International Day for Biological Diversity #BiodiversityDay May 22: World Goth Day #WorldGothDay May 22: World Paloma Day #WorldPalomaDay May 23: Lucky Penny Day #LuckyPennyDay May 23: World Turtle Day #WorldTurtleDay May 24: National Asparagus Day #NationalAsparagusDay May 24: National Road Trip Day #RoadTripDay May 25: National Missing Children’s Day #MissingChildrensDay May 25: Tap Dance Day #TapDanceDay May 26: National Heat Awareness Day #HeatAwarenessDay May 27: National Sunscreen Day #SunscreenDay May 27: Memorial Day #MemorialDay (US) May 28: National Hamburger Day #HamburgerDay May 30: National Creativity Day #CreativityDay May 31: National Smile Day #SmileDay May 31: 🚭 World No Tobacco Day #NoTobacco

June 1: Dinosaur Day #DinosaurDay June 1: Global Day of Parents #GlobalDayOfParents June 1: National Olive Day #OliveDay June 2: World Running Day #WorldRunningDay June 2: National Doughnut Day #NationalDoughnutDay June 3: 🚲 World Bicycle Day #WorldBicycleDay June 3: World Cider Day #WorldCiderDay June 4: National Cheese Day #NationalCheeseDay June 5: 🌏 World Environment Day #WorldEnvironmentDay June 6: National Higher Education Day #HigherEducationDay June 7: National Donut Day #NationalDonutDay June 8: World Oceans Day #WorldOceansDay June 8: National Best Friends Day #BestFriendsDay June 10: Herb and Spices Day #HerbAndSpicesDay June 10: National Iced Tea Day #IcedTeaDay June 11: National Corn on the Cob Day #CornOnTheCobDay June 14: 🩸 World Blood Donor Day #WorldBloodDonorDay June 14: National Flag Day #FlagDay June 15: Global Wind Day #GlobalWindDay June 16: National Fudge Day #FudgeDay June 17: Nursing Assistants Day #NursingAssistantsDay June 18: International Sushi Day #SushiDay June 19: Juneteenth (US) #Juneteenth June 20: 🦅 National American Eagle Day #AmericanEagleDay June 20: World Refugee Day #WorldRefugeeDay June 21: 🧘 International Yoga Day #InternationalYogaDay June 21: National Selfie Day #NationalSelfieDay June 21: World Music Day #WorldMusicDay June 22: National HVAC Tech Day #NationalHVACTechDay June 25: Global Beatles Day #BeatlesDay June 27: 🩺 National HIV Testing Day #HIVTestingDay June 27: National PTSD Awareness Day #PTSDAwarenessDay June 28: Insurance Awareness Day #InsuranceAwarenessDay June 30: Social Media Day #SMDay, #SocialMediaDay

July 1: Canada Day #CanadaDay July 1: International Joke Day #InternationalJokeDay July 3: International Plastic Bag Free Day #PlasticBagFreeDay July 4: Independence Day (US) #July4th July 6: International Kissing Day #InternationalKissingDay July 7: World Chocolate Day #WorldChocolateDay July 10: National Pina Colada Day #NationalPinaColadaDay July 12: 🥧 Pecan Pie Day #PecanPieDay July 14: Shark Awareness Day #SharkAwarenessDay July 17: World Emoji Day #WorldEmojiDay July 18: World Listening Day #WorldListeningDay July 20: National Moon Day #NationalMoonDay July 22: Mango Day #MangoDay July 26: ♿ Disability Independence Day #DisabilityIndependenceDay July 27: National Refreshment Day (Fourth Thursday) #NationalRefreshmentDay July 29: International Tiger Day #InternationalTigerDay July 30: International Friendship Day #DayOfFriendship July 31: National Avocado Day #NationalAvocadoDay

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KAREN AND THE TEETHIES vii "Wake up, Plankton," Karen whispers, shaking him lightly. "We're not even to the parking lot yet!" Plankton's eye opens. "Tish... tish... Karen?" he mumbles, his voice a sleepy whine. "Why we not... not at home?" Karen laughs, her voice a gentle lullaby. "We will be soon," she says, her grip on him firm but caring. "Just stay with me a little longer. Let's make our way to the car; yea?" But Plankton's eye is already drooping. "Caw... car?" he mumbles. Karen nods, her smile soft. "Yes, the car. We're going home." But Plankton's eyelid flaps heavily, his gaze unfocused. "Home... home," he repeats, his voice a slurred echo. His head wobbles against her shoulder, his body slack. Karen sighs, her laughter mingling with the slight exasperation in her voice. "Just a bit more, Plankton," she whispers, patting his back. "Stay with me. Let's stand up now." But Plankton's body is already succumbing to the warm embrace of sleep. His eyelid flaps once, twice, before his eye closes completely. He slumps back into the chair, snoring gently. Karen chuckles, shaking her head. "Come on," she says, her voice a blend of humor and patience. With a sigh, she stands, his weight still leaning on her. "You need to wake up for just a little bit more," she insists, her voice a mix of playfulness and firmness. But Plankton's snores are already steady. "Wake up," she whispers, shaking him gently. "We have to go." His eyelid twitches, his mouth moving in a slight snore. "Home?" he mumbles. Karen laughs softly, her hand still on his shoulder. "Yes, home," she repeats, her voice a gentle prodding. "Let's go." But Plankton's snores are now a symphony of sleep. His body sags, his head lolling to the side, and Karen knows the battle is lost. She looks to the nurse, who nods in understanding. "Let's get him to the car," she says, her voice a whisper of amusement. They lift him again, his arms draped over their shoulders like a tiny, uncooperative ragdoll. "Wake up, Plankton," Karen whispers again, her voice filled with a mix of humor and exasperation. "We're almost there." But Plankton's snores are a testament to his deep slumber. His head tips to the side, his mouth hanging open. The nurse's smile widens, and she nods to Karen. "It's okay. He's comfortable. We'll get him to the car." They manage to stand him up, his legs wobbly as a newborn deer's. Karen's arm is wrapped around his waist. "Come on, babe," she coaxes, her voice laced with affection. "Walk with me to the car. Wake up.." But Plankton's snores are a constant background noise, his body swaying with the rhythm of sleep. He opens his eye with difficulty, his gaze unfocused. "Wha... wha..." Karen chuckles, her arm tightening around him. "Walk, Plankton," she whispers, guiding his unsteady steps. "You're doing so well." But Plankton's body has other ideas. His knees buckle, and he sags against her, his snores growing louder. "Wake up, babe," she whispers, her voice filled with affectionate frustration. "You can't sleep until we're in the car." Plankton's head wobbles, his eye half-opening. "But... buth... I'm tiwed," he mumbles, his speech still thick. "Tish... tish... chair is... is... is so comfowt." Karen laughs softly, her patience unwavering. "You need to wake up, sweetie," she says, her voice a gentle prod. But Plankton's snores are the only response, his head lolling to the side. His body sags heavily against her. "Wake up, Plankton," Karen whispers, a hint of a laugh in her voice. But Plankton's only response is a sleepy snore, his body relaxing further against hers. "Come on, Plankton," Karen whispers, her voice a blend of amusement and urgency. "You're gonna need to get in to our car." Plankton's eye opens with effort, his gaze unfocused. "Caw... caw?" he mumbles, his speech still a thick slur. Karen laughs softly, her arm supporting his wavering body. "Yes, car," she repeats, her voice a gentle nudge. "We're going home." But Plankton's eye droops closed once more, his snores a soft symphony of unconsciousness. "Buth... buth... Karen," he mumbles, his words barely audible. Karen's laugh is a soft whisper of affection. "You're so sleepy," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. She tightens her grip on him, her arm supporting his wavering frame. "Just a few more steps." But Plankton's snores are a sweet lullaby, his body heavy with slumber. His legs barely move, his feet dragging against the floor. Karen's arm tightens, her strength the only thing keeping his body upright. "Wake up," she whispers, her voice a soft caress. "Almost there." Yet Plankton's only response is a snort, his head rolling back. Karen looks to the nurse. "It's okay," the nurse whispers, her smile warm. "Let's get him to your car. He'll sleep it off." They shuffle towards the exit, Plankton's snores a soft accompaniment to their quiet steps. Karen's arms are tight around his waist, her strength the only thing keeping him from sliding to the floor. His head rolls back, mouth open, a soft snore escaping him. "Wake up, Plankton," Karen whispers, her voice a gentle plea. "We're almost at the car." The nurse holds the door open for them. Plankton's eyelid flaps weakly, his mouth dropping open with a snore. "Caw?" he mumbles, his gaze unfocused. "Almost, sweetie," Karen says, her voice a blend of humor and determination. She shifts his weight slightly, her arm still supporting his waist. "Just a few more steps." But Plankton's body is a deadweight, his snores a testament to his deep slumber. His head tips back, mouth open wide, and Karen can feel his body going slack again. "Wake up. We're so close." But his only response is another snore, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his sleep. Karen laughs softly, her arm tightening around him. "You're so funny when you're sleepy," she whispers. The nurse opens the door to the car, but Plankton remains deeply asleep. His snores echo through the empty space, his body a ragdoll in Karen's arms. Karen tries to rouse him once more. "Come on, Plankton," she whispers, her voice a soft coax. "Wake up." But Plankton's snores are a sweet symphony of exhaustion. His head tips back, his mouth open wide, and Karen feels his body go limp again. She sighs with affectionate exasperation. "You're so stubborn," she murmurs, his weight a testament to his deep sleep.

CATCH IN MY CHIP ix (Autistic author) With grace of a dancer, Chip slides into the bed beside his dad, his movements calculated and precise. Each inch closer feels like a victory, a step to reconciliation. He's careful not to disturb. His hand reaches for Plankton's, his touch a whisper in the quiet. Plankton's breathing steady and rhythmic. Chip swells with hope, clutches the hand tightly, feeling the strength in the slender fingers. It's a silent declaration of love, an unspoken apology. Karen watches, her screen shimmering with unshed tears. The sight of her son and husband finding their way back to each other fills her heart with a warmth that chases the shadows from the room. She knows this isn't a moment to interrupt, so she simply observes, her hand on Chip's back in silent support. Chip's eyes drift shut, and he lets his body mold to the warmth of his dad's side. The scent of his dad's pillow, a mix of saltwater and something uniquely Plankton, fills his nose, lulling him into a sense of safety. Time seems to stand still in the quiet embrace, each tick of the clock a gentle reminder that moments like these are rare. But eventually, the world outside their sanctuary calls, and Plankton stirs. His antennas twitch, his eye blinking open . He's disoriented at first, his brain still wrapped in the cotton wool of sleep. Then he feels the warmth beside him, the weight of a small hand in his. Plankton's heart stutters, his body tense. His eye find Chip's peaceful face, his son's cheek pressed against his arm. The room is a tableau of quiet, the air thick with the unspoken. He's torn between emotions and fear, his mind racing. He doesn't remember falling asleep, the anger and frustration of last night a distant memory. But here's Chip, a living proof of their unspoken reconciliation. Plankton's antennas quiver, his hand hovering over their entwined fingers. He's afraid to move, to disturb the fragile harmony of the moment. But his body has other plans. His muscles tense, his skin prickling with the need for space. He's not used to this, the warmth, the weight. His autistic brain screams for order, for predictability. He tries to swallow the rising panic, to push it back down into the pit of his stomach where it belongs. Plankton can feel his own heart racing, his antennas quivering with the effort of holding still. His body wants to recoil, to retreat from the sudden assault of sensation. But he can't, not with his son's hand in his. Karen notices the tension in his body, the way his antennas spasm slightly. She knows what's coming, the inevitable retreat. With a gentle touch, she whispers, "It's okay, Plankton. You don't have to handle it if it's too much." Her words are a soothing balm, but they're not enough to calm the storm inside him. Chip's hand tightens slightly around his, and Plankton's eye snap to his son's face. He sees the trust there, the love. It's a punch to the gut, a reminder of all the moments he's missed, all the times he's failed to understand. His hand shakes, the tremble traveling up his arm. He tries to swallow the rising panic, his throat tight. But it's too much, the weight of his son's body, the heat, the smell, the touch. His mind whirrs, his senses overloading. He needs space, to think, to breathe. With a deep, shuddering inhale, he starts to pull away, his body fighting the instinct to shove Chip off the bed. Karen's hand is a gentle weight on his shoulder. "Take it slow," she whispers, her voice a lifeline in the storm. Plankton nods, his antennas still quivering. He tries to push the panic down, to focus on the warmth of Chip's hand, the steady beat of their hearts. But the pressure builds, a crescendo of sensation threatening to crush him. He can't breathe. With a tremble, he starts to pull away, his hand sliding out from under Chip's. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice strained. "It's too much." Karen's hand remains on his shoulder, her eyes filled with compassion. "It's okay," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "We're here." The room spins around Plankton, a whirlwind of colors and shapes. His antennas wave wildly, his grip on reality slipping. He's lost in the chaos of his own mind, the sensory overload a tornado that threatens to consume him. Karen's voice is a beacon, guiding him back to shore. "Breathe," she whispers, her hand still on his shoulder. "In, out, slowly." Her words are a lifeline in the tempest. Plankton nods, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He tries to focus on the sensation of her hand, the gentle pressure of her touch. But the world keeps spinning, the colors blurring together like a watercolor painting left in the rain. He feels the bed shift as Karen sits beside him, her presence a grounding force. "Just breathe," she says, her voice a soft mantra. "You're okay." His chest rises and falls in quick succession, his body's desperate attempt to regulate itself amidst the chaos. His heart races, each beat a staccato in his ears. The room spins, the walls closing in, the ringing in his ears getting louder to where it consumes him, now impenetrable to any other sound. Karen notices the sudden pallor that sweeps over her husband's face, the way his body sags into the bed. Her eyes fill with concern, her hand tightening on his shoulder. "Look at me," she says, her voice firm but gentle. "Take deep breaths." But the ringing in his head is too loud. It's consumed him and impenetrable. He can't hear her. He doesn't hear anything. Karen's voice is a distant echo, the words swallowed by the cacophony in his mind. Her hand on his shoulder is the only real thing, the only anchor keeping him from being swept away. The room spins faster, the colors bleeding into one another until all Plankton can see is a kaleidoscope of sensory overload. The ringing in his ears crescendos, drowning out the world. His chest feels tight, his lungs desperate for air that won't come. He's adrift in a sea of panic, unable to find his way back to the shore. Karen's voice cuts through the din, her hand a firm reminder of reality. "Look at me," she says, her eyes locked on his, her voice a steady lighthouse guiding his way back. "Just me, just us." But Plankton's not hearing anymore. The room is spinning, the colors a whirlwind of chaos. He's lost in the tornado of his own making, the sensory overload a prison he can't escape. His hand shakes, his body tense as his mind begs for reprieve. Karen's eyes widen with concern. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a gentle lullaby. "Look at me." She moves closer, her hand reaching for his face. Her touch is a grounding force, but it's not enough. He's too far gone. The room spins, a blur of color and sound. Plankton's eye is wide with panic, his body trembling. The bed seems to shift beneath him, the walls closing in. His breaths are shallow, his chest tight. He's lost in the tornado of his senses. Karen's hand on his shoulder is a lifeline, but his mind is too far gone. Her voice is a distant whisper, the words unintelligible. All he can feel is the crushing weight of the world pressing down on him, the lights too bright, the noises too loud. And then Chip stirs in his sleep. The movement sends a shiver down Plankton's spine, his body tightening like a coiled spring. The ringing in his ears reaches a crescendo, drowning out everything else. He tries to push the panic back down, to find the calm he desperately needs, but it's like trying to hold back the tide with a paper wall. Karen's eyes are filled with fear as she sees Plankton's descent into overwhelm. She knows the signs all too well. Her hand on his shoulder is now a firm grip, trying to keep him tethered to the here and now. "Look at me," she says, her voice a gentle command. "Just me, just us." But Plankton's gaze is unfocused, his mind swirling with a torrent of sensations that make him feel like he's falling into a bottomless pit. The room seems to spin faster, the light from the window a piercing glare that slices through his retina. He wants to shield his eye, but his arm feels like lead, too heavy to lift. Karen's touch is the only constant, her hand on his shoulder the one thing that feels real amidst the sensory maelstrom. But even that is slipping away as his dizziness crescendos into full-blown vertigo. His vision blurs, the lines of reality smearing into a nauseating whirl of color and light. "Plankton," she says, her voice urgent. "Look at me." The words echo in his head, a distant call amidst the chaos. He tries to focus on her face, her eyes the only constant in the whirlwind of sensations. But the world spins, faster and faster, until all he can see is a blur of color. Her hand on his shoulder is a lifeline, but it's slipping away. He feels himself falling, tumbling into the void of his own mind. His body is a marionette, his strings cut by the storm. The ringing in his ears reaches a crescendo, a symphony of panic that consumes him. Karen's eyes are wide with fear, her grip on him desperate. "Look at me," she repeats, her voice steady. "You're okay." Her hand moves to his face. But Plankton's gaze is glassy, his pupil dilated. He's trapped in the chaos of his senses. The ringing in his ears is a siren's call, pulling him deeper. Karen's hand moves from his shoulder to his cheek, the softness of her touch a stark contrast to the harshness of the world invading his mind. "Look at me," she repeats, her voice a whisper. "You're safe." Her thumb traces the line of his jaw, a gentle guide. But Plankton's eye is glassy, lost in the storm. Her words are gentle, trying to soothe him. But the flames are too high, too strong. He's drowning in his own senses. With a tremble, Karen's hand moves to his cheek, her touch a soft caress. "Look at me," she whispers, her voice a lifeline thrown into the tempest. "You're ok."

SHELF IMPROVEMENT viii (Autistic author) The next day, Karen got up out of bed. Plankton's still asleep. She wondered how she's to wake him with his new sensory sensitivities. Gently, she opened the blinds, letting in the soft morning light. The room was peaceful, the silence only broken by the steady hum of his breathing. She took a moment to just watch his sleeping form, the covers rising and falling with each breath. Karen approached the bed, careful not to wake him. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as she reached out to stroke his forehead. He mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, and she smiled sadly. "Good morning, Plankton," she whispered, keeping her voice soft. His eye fluttered open, and he blinked at her, his gaze slightly unfocused. "Karen," he mumbled, his voice groggy. "How are you feeling?" she asked, concern etched on her screen. Plankton blinked a few times, his antennae slowly raising. "Tired," he finally said, his voice raspy. "It's okay," Karen soothed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We'll take it easy today. I told Chip about your new neurodisability.." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he took in her words. "Chip knowing?" he murmured, his eye searching hers. "Yes, sweetie," Karen nodded. "We talked about how we need to be gentler with you now." Plankton's antennae stilled, his gaze unreadable. Then, slowly, his eye found hers. "Thank... you?" he whispered, the words a gentle caress. Karen felt a tear roll down her screen. "Of course," she said, smiling softly. "We're in this together." It's the first time since the accident that he used an actual pronoun. Plankton's antennae quivered as he absorbed her words. "Together," he echoed, his voice gaining strength. Karen wiped her screen, trying not to let her emotions overwhelm them as Chip came into their room. "Morning, Dad," Chip said, his voice tentative. He had spent the night thinking about his father's condition, his young mind racing with questions. Plankton's antennae twitched, and he offered a small smile. "Chip," he mumbled. Chip cautiously approached the bed, his eyes wide with concern. "You okay, Dad?" Plankton nodded, his antennae still. "Chip," he murmured. "Chip loves Plankton." Chip climbed up onto the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. "I love you too, Dad," he said, his voice trembling as he crawled closer to Plankton. Plankton's antennae flinched as Chip approached, his body tensing instinctively. Karen had explained about personal space the night before, but she wasn't sure if he'd remember. "Chip," she said softly, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. "Let's not get too close just yet, okay?" Chip nodded, his screen a picture of understanding. He sat at the edge of the bed, giving Plankton enough space. Karen could see the effort it took for him to control his instincts. Plankton's antennae twitched as he took in the new dynamics, his eye flicking between Karen and Chip. "Space," he murmured, his voice still weak. "I need... space." Karen nodded, swallowing hard. "Of course, Plankton. We'll make sure to give you your space." She reached for Chip's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Remember, buddy, let's not overwhelm Dad." Chip nodded, his eyes serious. He slowly slid off the bed, his movements careful. But as he stood up, his elbow accidentally brushed against Plankton's arm. The reaction was instant. Plankton's antennae shot up, his body jerking away from the touch. "No!" he yelped, his eye widening in discomfort. Karen lurched as she saw Plankton's expression. She had tried to prepare Chip, but it was clear that their new reality was going to be a learning experience for them all. Chip's screen filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered. Karen's seeing her son's upset face. "It's okay, Chip," she said quickly. "It's an accident. Let's give Dad some more space, okay?" But Plankton's expression had shifted. His antennae were vibrating rapidly, his eye flashing with anger. "Too much," he snapped, his voice harsher than Karen had ever heard it. "Chip, too much!" Chip's eyes watered, and he took a step back, his hand hovering. "I'm sorry, Dad," he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's antennae whipped around, his whole body vibrating with agitation. "Out!" he bellowed, the word exploding from his tiny body. "Chip, go out!" Chip's eyes grew large with shock. He had never heard his dad speak to him like that before. His shoulders slumped, and he turned to leave, his steps slow and heavy. Karen watched her son retreat. "Plankton," she began, her voice shaky. "It's okay, he didn't mean..." But Plankton's anger was palpable. "No!" he shouted, his eye flashing. "Chip, no more!" His voice was loud, a stark contrast to the gentle whispers of their previous interactions. Chip hovers by the door. "Dad, I di-" "OUT!" Plankton's shout reverberated through the room, cutting him off mid-sentence. His body was rigid with tension, his antennae quivering angrily. Karen felt a pang of fear and sadness seeing her husband like this. But Chip wants to reconcile with his father. Chip looked back, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Dad, ca--" "OUT!" Plankton's voice was a thunderclap in the stillness of the room. Chip flinched, his small body visibly trembling. "Dad," Chip tried again, his voice shaking. "Can't you li—" "OUT!" Plankton shouted, his antennae whipping around like tiny storm clouds. Karen saw the fear in Chip and knew she had to intervene. "Chip, go to your room," she said firmly, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. "Let's give Dad some time to calm down." Chip nodded. With one last longing glance at Plankton, he left the room, the door clicking softly behind him.

PLUSH ONE xi (By NeuroFabulous) Hanna nods, her smile gentle. "It's okay," she says, patting his shoulder. But Plankton flinches, his antennae shooting up. "NO TOUCH!" he cries out, his voice piercing the quiet. Hanna's hand jerks back, surprise etched on her screen. "It's okay," she murmurs, trying to ease the tension. Plankton clutches the plushie to his chest, his body shaking. "MINE," he repeats, his voice quivering. Karen understands his fear, his desire for sameness. His autism has turned a simple act of kindness into a threat to him. "I'm sorry," Hanna whispers, backing away. "I just di-" But Hanna backed into a desk of Plankton's books, which now fall misaligned to the floor with a thud. Plankton's eye widens in horror, his antennae twitching in fury. The disrupted order sends his senses into overdrive. Plankton can't take it. The loud thud, the mess... He jumps up, the plushie falling to the floor, forgotten. He starts to pick up the books, his hands shaking as he hurls them angrily at Hanna, who gasps. Karen sees the panic in his eye, the overwhelming sensory assault of the unexpected noise and movement. She moves to intervene, racing. "PLANKTON, STOP!" she shouts, her voice firm but not harsh. She doesn't want to startle him further. The books fly through the air, one hitting Hanna's arm with a thump. "Hey!" she cries, but Karen's focus is on Plankton. His body is a storm of jerky movements, his autistic mind struggling to cope with the sudden chaos. Karen's eyes are filled with fear and sadness. This isn't the Plankton she knows, not the one who would actually hurt someone. "PLANKTON!" she cries, her voice a thunderclap in the small room. He stops, his body trembling with rage and confusion. His antennae quiver, searching for the source of the disruption. Hanna stands back, her arm rubbing where the book had hit. "What's happening?" she whispers, her eyes wide with shock. But Karen's focus is on Plankton, his body a taut wire of anger. "It's okay," she says, her voice steady, though her heart is racing. "Let's just... let's clean up." Plankton's eye darts around the room, his antennae still quivering. He looks at her, his expression a storm of emotions she can't quite read. But she sees the fear, the confusion. And she knows she must act. Karen moves towards him, slowly, her hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "It's okay," she repeats, her voice the calm in the storm. "Let's clean up." But Plankton's autism doesn't understand calm. It sees only the mess, the disarray. His body shakes with frustration, his eye wild. He throws another book, this time it misses Hanna but hits the wall with a crack. Karen's eyes fill with tears. "Plankton," she says firmly, but with love. "This isn't you." But Plankton's rage doesn't subside. He throws another book, the spine snapping with the force. "PLANKTON, NO!" Karen shouts, but he doesn't hear her. His autism has taken over, his brain unable to process the sudden influx of stimuli. He throws another book, his body a blur of motion, Karen's eyes never leaving his face. She must get him to a safe space before he hurts someone, before he shatters the fragile peace they've built. "PLANKTON!" she shouts, louder this time. "STOP!" Her voice pierces the chaos, and his movements falter. His eye finds hers, and she sees the storm in his gaze, the fear and confusion. Karen's knowing she must act quickly. With a deep breath, she moves closer, her arms outstretched, her voice steady. "It's okay," she says, her tone a gentle lullaby. "Let's calm dow—" But Plankton's fury isn't easy to tame. He throws another book, his aim now erratic. The room is a whirlwind of paper and panic, the air thick with his distress. Karen's eyes never leave his, her voice the only constant in the chaos. "PLANKTON, PLEASE!" she calls, her desperation clear. She needs to get through to him, to the person she loves beneath the tumultuous autistic rage. But Plankton's autism has hijacked his mind, his body a vessel for fear and anger. He throws the last book, his arm slinging it like a weapon. It sails through the air, headed straight for Hanna. Karen's instincts take over, and she leaps forward, her hand catching it mid-flight. The room falls silent, the book in her hand a stark reminder of the chaos that was just moments before. Her eyes are on Plankton, his body heaving with frustration. Hanna's eyes are wide, fear and confusion etched on her screen. Karen aches for the man she loves, his world now a minefield of sensory overload. Hanna stands frozen, her eyes wide with shock. "I'm sorry," Karen murmurs, turning to her. "This isn't usual for him." But Plankton's fury doesn't subside. He lunges at her, his tiny body a blur of rage. Karen steps in, her arms spreading wide to protect Hanna. "PLANKTON!" she cries, his name a plea. His antennae slap her face, stinging with the force of his anger. She stumbles backward, her eyes never leaving his. "It's okay," she whispers, though she's not sure if it is. Plankton's body convulses, his legs flailing. Karen moves closer, trying to soothe him, but he's beyond reason. His tiny fists clench, his face distorted with rage. Hanna stumbles backward, fear in her eyes. "What's going on?" she asks, her voice shaking. Karen's a drum of worry. "Plankton," she whispers, her eyes pleading. "It's me, Karen." But his autism doesn't hear her words. It sees only the chaos, the invasion of his space. Karen's mind races, searching for a way to calm him. "PLANKTON!" she says, her voice firm but calm. "Look at me." She holds out her hand, her palm open, a silent offer of safety. But Plankton's anger doesn't abate. He swipes at the air. Karen knows she must act quickly before someone gets hurt. "PLANKTON, STOP!" she says firmly, her voice a steady drumbeat in the chaos. She holds out her hand, her movements slow and deliberate. "Look at me," she repeats, her screen filled with love and determination. But his fury doesn't abate. His body jerks, his antennae slapping the air as he tries to push past her to get to Hanna. Karen's eyes flicker to the plushie on the floor, then back to Plankton's wild gaze. Her voice remains steady, though fear tightens her throat. "Plankton, remember the plushie?" she asks, her words a soft whisper. "It's still here. It's still yo-" But her words are cut off by his shriek. Plankton's tiny body is a tornado of rage, his fists flailing. Karen's eyes never leave his. Her mind is a blur, searching for the right words, the right action to soothe his distress. Her voice is a lifeline, a steady beat in the storm. "Look at the plushie," she says, desperation coating her words. "Remember ho-" But Plankton's autism doesn't heed her pleas. His body writhes, his eye wild with fear and anger as he suddenly swings his fist, catching Karen off guard. She must get through to him. "PLANKTON!" she cries out, but he's deaf to her voice. Her eyes search his, looking for the man she loves, but all she sees is a tempest of sensory overload and confusion. With a tremble, Karen drops the book she'd caught and reaches out, her hand slow and gentle, offering comfort in the chaos. But Plankton's autism interprets it as an assault. He lunges again, his fists a flurry of pain. Karen's body is a shield, her eyes filled with tears as she tries to keep him from Hanna. Her voice remains calm, a beacon in the storm of his anger. "PLANKTON, PLEASE!" she shouts, but her voice is drowned by his screams. But she won't give up, not on him. With a tremble, Karen reaches for the plushie, her hand shaking as she holds it out to him. "Look," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "Your plushie, remembe---" But the sight of the toy doesn't calm him. Instead, it fuels his rage. He snatches it from her, his antennae whipping around in a frenzy. "MINE!" he shouts, the word a battle cry as he swings the plushie wildly. The room fills with the sound of fabric ripping, stuffing flying. Karen's eyes widen with horror. This isn't the Plankton she knows, the loving man who cherished his quiet moments with her. This is someone lost in his own world, a world of overwhelming sensory assault. The plushie, once a symbol of comfort, is now a weapon in his hands. He swings it wildly, the fabric tearing under his frenzied grip. Feathers and stuffing fill the air, the chaos a stark contrast to the silent tears sliding down Karen's screen. Hanna's eyes are wide, her body pressed against the wall, her mind racing with uncertainty. Karen sees the question in her gaze: What's happening? But there's no time for explanations. Plankton's autism has taken over, his fear a wildfire that she must extinguish before it consumes them all. Karen's eyes dart around the room, searching for something to help, something that might bring him back to her, to the reality where his world isn't falling apart. Her eyes land on the plushie, now a sad, torn mess on the floor. But she won't give up, not on the man she loves. Karen's mind races, searching for a way to break through the barricade of his fear. The room seems to spin, a whirlwind of panic and pain. Her eyes lock on the plushie, now a tattered mess at his feet. With a quick breath, she crouches down, her movements slow and deliberate. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a lifeline in the tempest.

JUST A TOUCH vii (Autistic author) The room is thick with unspoken words as Sandy slowly approaches the bed, her movements calculated to avoid overstimulating Plankton. Her eyes are full of compassion, but also fear of the unknown. "Hi, Plankton," she says softly, extending her hand with a gentle wave. He flinches, his antennae quivering. "Remember me?" Plankton's brain processes her words, but his response is delayed. He nods, his movements mechanical. Sandy sits on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving his. "How are you feeling?" she asks, her voice carefully modulated to avoid causing him discomfort. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye darting to the side. He doesn't look at her directly, his gaze lingering on a spot on the wall. "Fine," he says, his voice devoid of inflection. Sandy nods, her eyes searching his for any sign of the friend she knew. "It's good to see you, Plankton." Her words hang in the air, their meaning lost in the labyrinth of his new reality. Karen watches them, her heart in her throat. She can see the effort Plankton is making to engage with Sandy, the way his antennae twitch with every word spoken. It's a dance, a delicate balance between his need for solace and his desire for connection. Sandy's hand hovers near his, her eyes questioning. "Can I?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper. Plankton's gaze shifts to hers, his expression unreadable. Karen nods, giving her permission. "Gently," she says, a soft reminder. Sandy nods, her hand inching closer to his. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, his body stiffening as her fingertips brush against his. But the moment their skin makes contact, something snaps within him. He jolts upright, his antennae flailing as his eye widen in panic. "Too much," he cries out, his voice a mix of fear and anger. "Too much!" The room seems to shrink around him, the walls closing in with every beat of his racing heart. Sandy's eyes widen in shock, her hand retreating quickly. "Plankton," she says, her voice calm. "It's okay." But Plankton's not listening, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. "No!" he yells, his voice echoing through the room. "No touch!" Sandy's face falls, her eyes brimming with confusion and hurt. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice shaking. "I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's in the throes of a full-blown meltdown. His tiny fists clench. "No touch!" he repeats, his voice rising. Karen's heart breaks seeing the fear in Sandy's eyes, but she understands the importance of respecting Plankton's boundaries. "We're sorry, Plank..." But Plankton's anger interrupts her, his voice sharp and intense. "No! No sorry! Sandy touch no good!" His words are a jumble of pain and frustration, a stark contrast to the controlled monotone he'd used earlier. Sandy's eyes fill with tears, her hand retreating to her lap. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice cracking. "I didn't know." Karen nods, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "It's okay," she says to both of them, her voice steady. "We're just figuring this out." Plankton's chest heaves with breaths. "No touch," he mutters, his voice fading. Sandy nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice softer. "I'll..." But Plankton's outburst continues, his voice rising. "No touch!" The room vibrates with his distress, the air thick with his panic. Karen's heart races, her mind racing to find a way to soothe him. She knows he's overwhelmed, that his new hypersensitivity to touch has been violated. Sandy's eyes widen, her hands hovering awkwardly in the space between them. She can see the turmoil in his face, the anguish in his voice. "I didn't mean to..." she starts, but her words are swallowed by his distress. "Plankton, it's okay," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. But it's too late. The dam has broken, and his emotions flood the room like a storm. His tiny body trembles with rage, his antennae flailing in every direction. "No touch!" he screams again, the force of his voice surprising even Sandy. She jumps back, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. Karen's eyes are on Plankton, a silent apology in her gaze. "It's okay," she says to him, her voice soothing. "We'll make sure that doesn't happen again." Plankton's eye darts around the room, his breathing erratic. "No touch," he whispers, his voice broken. Sandy backs away, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "I didn't know," she says, her voice thick. "I'm so sorry." The room echoes with Plankton's sobs, his body quaking in Karen's arms. Karen's heart aches for him, her eyes never leaving his face. "No touch," he whispers, his voice broken. Karen nods, her eyes brimming with tears. "I know," she says, her voice gentle. "It's okay. We'll figure this out." Plankton's antennae stop flailing, his body still trembling as the storm of his emotions begin to subside. He looks up at Karen, his gaze searching for comfort. She wipes a tear from her face with her free hand. "It's okay," she repeats. "You're okay." Sandy's eyes are red, her shoulders slumped. "I didn't know," she says again, her voice shaking. "I just wanted to help." Karen nods, her own eyes wet with empathy. "I know," she says. "It's a lot to take in." The three of them sit in the quiet room, the only sound Plankton's muffled sobs. Sandy's eyes dart around, not knowing what to do with herself. Karen squeezes his hand gently, her gaze never leaving his. "We're here for you," she whispers. Slowly, Plankton's crying subsides, his body still shaking. Karen can feel the tension in him, like a coiled spring ready to snap again. Sandy's hand twitches, as if she wants to reach out, but she stops herself, remembering his outburst. "I'm sorry," she says again, her voice small. Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "It's not your fault," she says to Sandy, her voice gentle. "We're all just trying to navigate this new... reality." Sandy sniffs, nodding. "I just want to be here for you guys," she says, her voice shaky. Plankton's sobs quiet, his body slumping in exhaustion. Karen nods, her eyes meeting Sandy's. "We know, and we appreciate it," she says, her voice tight. "But we have to be careful with his sensory needs." Sandy nods, her face a mask of sorrow. "I'll learn," she whispers. "What do you need from me, Plan..." But Plankton's already slipping away, his eyelid drooping as sleep beckons. Karen's grip on his hand doesn't loosen as she watches his breathing even out. The tension in the room slowly eases as his body relaxes, his sobs giving way to quiet snuffles. Sandy's eyes are on him, her heart heavy with guilt. "I'll go," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "Thank you," she murmurs. "Call me if you need anything." Sandy nods, her eyes lingering on the two of them before she stands, her legs shaky. She crosses the room, the weight of her mistake dragging her down. As she reaches the door, she glances back one last time. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly in his sleep, and she can't help but feel a pang of sadness. Karen's eyes follow her, filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "Thank you," she whispers again as Sandy exits, closing the door behind her. The click echoes through the quiet space, a stark reminder of the distance that's grown between them all. Plankton's grip on her hand tightens slightly in his sleep, as if sensing the shift in the room's energy. Karen brings her other hand to cover his, sandwiching it between hers. Her eyes well with tears as she whispers, "It's okay, Plankton. You're okay." The room is bathed in silence once again, the only sound being Plankton's gentle snores. Karen's mind is racing, thinking of all the adjustments they'll need to make, the education she'll have to provide to those who know and love him. But for now, she focuses on the warmth of his hand in hers, his head buried in her shoulder. Her eyes drift to the clock, the hands moving in a slow, steady march forward. It's time for her to start dinner, to bring some semblance of normalcy back into their lives. Gently, she shifts Plankton to his side, making sure he's comfortable before rising from the bed. The kitchen is a minefield of potential triggers: the hum of the fridge, the clink of pans, the smell of cooking food. She moves carefully, her eyes scanning the room for anything that might overstimulate him. The recipe she's chosen is simple, something they both enjoy. She starts the prep, chopping vegetables with a precision that Plankton would appreciate, her movements methodical and calming. The aroma of cooking food fills the air, a comforting reminder of their shared life. Karen's mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, planning how to help Plankton navigate this new world. She wipes her hands on a towel. As she hears Plankton's tentative steps on the stairs, she takes a deep breath. His descent is slow, each step measured with caution. When he enters the kitchen, his gaze darts around the room, his antennae twitching with each new sound. Karen's heart squeezes. She's used to his energy, his boundless enthusiasm. This cautious creature is still his shell-shocked self. "Hungry?" she asks, her voice as soft as the evening light. Plankton nods. The meal is a simple one, a familiar comfort in a world that's become so alien. Karen places the plate before him, the steaming food a visual symphony of their shared past. Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze fixating on the plate. "Food," he says, his voice still monotone. Karen nods, aching for the passionate foodie she knew. "Do you need anything else?" she asks, her voice soft. He shakes his head. The meal is eaten in silence, each bite a victory. Karen wants to say something, anything, but she knows he needs space, time to process the whirlwind of emotions.

SHELF IMPROVEMENT ix (Autistic author) "Plankton," Karen says, her voice steady despite the worry. "You need to understand that Chip doesn't mean to hurt you." But Plankton was lost in his own world, his tiny fists clenched by his sides, his body vibrating with uncontrolled anger. "No more!" he shrieked. "No more Chip!" His eye was wild, darting around the room as if searching for an escape from the invisible tormentor. Karen watched him. She had read about meltdowns in her research but experiencing one was another matter entirely. Her husband's distress was palpable, and she knew she had to act quickly. "Plankton," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Look at me. It's Karen. You're safe." But Plankton's eye remained wild, his antennae quivering. "No safe," he whispered, his voice haunted. "Chip, too loud." Karen understood the depth of his fear. "Chip's not here," she said soothingly. "He's in his room, just like we asked. You're okay." But Plankton's screams continued, his tiny body shaking with the force of his anger. "Chip go!" he yelled, his voice scratchy from the strain. "Chip bad!" Karen's mind raced, trying to find a way to calm him. She moved closer, her hands up in a non- threatening gesture. "Plankton, please," she said, her voice as gentle as a whisper. "Chip's not here, remember?" But Plankton's autistic meltdown continued, his voice raised in a string of incoherent threats and fear. "No more Chip!" he screamed. "Bad Chip, go!" His body was a blur of movement. Karen tried to approach him, her movements slow and deliberate. "It's just us, Plankton," she said calmly, her voice soothing. "You're safe." But Plankton's autistic meltdown was unyielding. "Chip bad!" he yelled, his antennae thrashing wildly. "Karen, make Chip go!" "Plankton, Chip's not here," she repeated, her voice even softer. "It's just you and me." Plankton's screams continued, his tiny frame contorted with rage. "Make Chip leave!" he shrieked. "Chip go away!" Karen's eyes filled with tears as she approached his trembling body. "Plankton, baby," she whispered, her voice steady. "Chip's not here. It's okay." But Plankton's autistic meltdown showed no signs of abating. He continued to scream, his fear-filled eye darting around the room as if his son was still there, threatening his sanctity. "No Chip, no more!" Karen's voice was a gentle stream of reassurance, trying to cut through the storm of his distress. She knew she had to find a way to calm him without adding to his overwhelm. She moved closer, her body language open and non-threatening. "Plankton," she soothed, her hand outstretched. "Look at me, it's just me, Karen." But his screams grew louder, his tiny fists pounding the bed in frustration. "No Chip! No more loud!" he shrieked, his voice raw. "Karen keep Chip away!" Karen moved closer, carefully placing a hand on his shaking shoulder. "Chip's not here, Plankton," she soothed, her voice gentle. "It's okay." But Plankton's autistic meltdown was a tempest she couldn't calm. "No more Chip!" he sobbed, his tiny body shaking with the force of his emotions. Tears streamed down his face, his antennae drooping as if in defeat. Karen couldn't bear to see him like this, so vulnerable and afraid. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand still on his shoulder. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice a gentle lullaby. "Chip's not here, Plankton." Plankton's sobs were like the waves of the sea, crashing against the shore of his tiny frame. Each breath he took was a battle, his body racked with the effort of trying to calm himself down. Karen felt powerless, but she knew she had to try something. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice barely audible over his cries. "Let's do our deep breathing, okay?" She demonstrated, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, hoping the rhythm would soothe him. For a moment, his screams stuttered, his breath catching. Karen felt a flicker of hope. She leaned closer, her hand on his chest. "In and out," she instructed, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath her palm. Slowly, his sobs began to even out, his breath matching hers. His body was still tense, his antennae still quivering, but the intensity of his meltdown was waning. Karen continued to breathe with him, her hand a comforting weight on his chest. "Good, Plankton," she whispered, her voice a soft breeze in the storm. "In and out." His sobs grew quieter, his body less tense. Karen's hand remained steady on his chest, feeling the erratic thumps slowing to a more manageable rhythm. The room was a cocoon of soft sounds—his breaths, her voice, the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. "Good," she said, her voice still a whisper. "We're okay." Plankton's body was still, his breathing returning to normal. He looked up at Karen. "Karen," he murmured, his voice small and scared. Karen's with love and sadness. "I'm right here, baby," she whispered, stroking his forehead. "You're safe." Plankton's antennae twitched, his body slowly relaxing beneath her touch. "Safe," he murmured. "Chip?" Karen squeezed his shoulder gently. "Chip's in his room, just like we asked," she said, her voice soft and steady. "He's not going to bother you now." Plankton's antennae stilled, his breaths coming in deep, shuddering gulps. "No more loud," he whispered. Karen nodded. "I know, baby," she said. "We'll make sure it's quieter for you." Plankton's antennae relaxed slightly. "No more loud," he repeated, his voice a plea. Karen nodded, swiping at her own tears. "We'll keep things calm," she promised. "We're all going to work together to make sure you're okay." Plankton's gaze flicked to the door, his antennae quivering. "Chip safe?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper. "Chip's safe," Karen reassured, her voice soothing. "He's just in his room, giving us some space." Plankton's antennae twitched with understanding. "Space," he murmured. "Chip understands space?" "Chip's just a little confused," she explained. "He loves you, but he's learning about your new needs." Plankton nodded slightly, his antennae still. "Chip good," he murmured. "Just... to much." Karen felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Yes, sweetie," she said. "Sometimes Chip's energy can be too much. We'll talk to him about it." Plankton's antennae twitched again, his gaze drifting back to the closed door. "Talk?" Karen nodded, wiping the tears. "Yes, we'll talk to him," she said. "We'll explain how you're feeling and what you need." Plankton's antennae drooped slightly. "Chip still loves Plankton?" Karen's eyes filled with tears. "More than anything," she assured him, her voice thick with emotion. "Chip loves you so much, and he'll learn how to be gentler with you." Plankton's antennae perked up a little, his fear beginning to recede. "Gentler," he whispered, his voice hopeful. "Yes," Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "We'll all learn to be gentler."