Xxxiii Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Xxxiii Emojis & Symbols 🤣339️⃣՞ ⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ՞⸜ ♡ ⸝

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Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞ Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞ Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞ Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞
porno Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞ Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞ Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞ Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞
▶︎ •၊၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|||၊||။‌‌‌‌‌၊||lıl||၊||။‌‌‌‌‌၊||lılıııl|၊၊|၊၊|၊၊၊ıılılııılııl၊၊၊၊|၊|၊|၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌lııl၊၊၊၊|၊|၊|၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|||။‌‌‌‌‌၊• 46:33
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\\===================// __/_|_____________|_\__ /⭕️⭕️\...𝑺𝑲𝒀𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑬.../⭕️⭕️\ | | \⚫__/_/ҜL52Ҝ2188\_\⚫/ |___/ \___|
"STOP DOING THIS STUFF! I AM TEN AND I WAS LOOKING FOR CUTE EMOJIS THAN I SAW THIS, WHAT IS THIS PLEASE STOP I AM TRAMATIZED 😭" then don't search fir shut you fucking dumbass <3( ^ω^ )*𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘴*
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."
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
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⢻⡿⣄⠻⣞⣟⣿⡟⢦⣦⣤⣤⣫⢻⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠳⡏⢎⡉⢁⣿⠇⣼⣯⣏⣽⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⢯⣿⣯⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠙⠚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣦⠙⢍⠉⠁⣴⣿⣿⢫⡧⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡄⢉⣿⠏⣴⣿⣿⣱⡟⠀⠀⠀⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣿⣿⢒⡛⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢛⣿⣷⣆⣰⢠⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢀⣠⣶⡀⢀ ⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣟⣶⣳⣄⠙⢤⣮⣵⡣⠋⡕⠀⢀⠀⠀⣀⠄⠀⡀⣀⢀⣰⣷⡷⢃⣼⣿⡿⣽⣿⣀⢰⣾⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠳⠈⢻⣿⣼⣽⠦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣻⣶⢞⡳⢝⢯⡳⡶⢾⣿⡷⣶⡴⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⡀⢀⣠⡖⣀⣤⠴⡿⢷⡶⢶⣿⣿⣷⢯⣷⣿ ⣋⡯⢷⣶⣶⣧⡴⠀⠀⠲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣽⣾⣿⣶⣝⡢⢅⢾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⠿⣻⡵⠟⣡⣴⣿⣿⣯⣷⣿⡇⡅⣼⡏⠛⢯⣿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣧⣐⣢⣿⣷⣯⡟⢷⣦⣠⣀⣤⣶⡿⣷⣦⣶⣶⣾⣷⣾⡶⢣⠝⣷⣿⡂⠹⡧⣷⣒⡋⢧⡴⠋⡁⠍⣹⣦⠿⣟⠫⡬⠽⠛⡽⠑⠫⢽⣭⡿⣝⣻⣛⣛⣸⣙⡽⣻⠟⣏⠴⠻ ⣻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣬⣩⣺⣧⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⢯⣿⣷⣬⣍⣒⢛⠉⠉⡿⣒⣚⣯⣥⣴⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⣷⡿⣿⠾⣾⣒⡽⢽⡬⣿⢞⣯⣶⢿⡟⠻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣷⣿⣏⣻⣯⢙⣟⣿⣷⣿⣶⡄⢌⠙⠻⠯⠩⠁⠀⡜⠧⡀⠁⠀⡀⡔⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⢀⠒⠁⣀⢘⠦⣲⣼⣿⣷⣿⣧⠛⣶⢛⡿⢽⣞⡒⠯ ⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⡻⡽⣿⣿⡯⣽⣿⣿⠿⣿⡺⣿⣿⣿⢿⠛⡿⣥⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⡿⣿⣽⣿⣿⡿⣿⣷⡅⣁⣶⣴⣼⠛⡇⠨⠽⠹⣠⢿⠛⠹⢎⠹⠟⡸⡟⣬⢢⣍⡻⡿⠫⣾⡿⠯⢯⣑⢻⠋⠀⠀⠀⣤⠬⠑⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⢠⢋⠀⠀⡀⠀⠒⠉⠐⢈⠉⠷⡌⠧⠤⠩⠄⠊⣈⢑⣂ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢻⣍⣛⠓⢈⡟⠮⣹⣻⣧⣼⣠⢽⣝⣩⣿⣿⡿⢻⣧⣙⠙⡍⣏⠜⡄⠋⣴⣭⣻⣟⠩⢿⡿⠿⢛⣛⡾⣽⣿⣯⢽⣲⡩⠋⢘⠟⡁⠀⠈⠓⣀⠃⢂⠀⠈⠀⠀⢠⣤⣭⢷⢺⣽⣇⢅⡪⢏⣻⣷⣼⣷⣼⣬⣆⣤⣴⣴⣦⣭⣥⣶⣦⣤⣤⣄⣶⣀⣦⣴⣶⣴⣴⣦⣴⣖⣧⣾⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣯⣷⣿⣿ ⣽⣧⣿⣿⣛⢆⡶⢖⣽⢽⣷⢩⣵⣝⣆⠴⣘⣤⣃⡬⣋⠁⢨⢪⣌⣿⣟⡽⢿⢷⣞⣙⡟⢧⠥⠟⢚⣟⡿⡿⠛⠶⡴⢾⣷⣌⣤⡮⣽⣊⡑⡗⡍⣷⢹⡹⢿⣯⣿⣿⠿⣷⣶⣿⢲⣦⡄⠀⠋⠹⢻⣛⡟⣴⡾⢿⡿⡞⣵⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⢿⠿⡿⢿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿ ⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣿⣾⣿⣿⣟⣫⣥⣾⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣟⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣷⣯⣾⣷⣿⣿⣯⣷⣿⣿⣿⣶⣼⣷⣇⣿⣠⣶⣽⣯⣿⣮⣿⣿⣶⡂⡝⢅⣐⠠⠒⣅⣾⣿⡿⣿⣲⣶⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣞⢬⡕⣳⣿⠟⣿⠻⠿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣻⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⢿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣯⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣷⣟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢩⡵⣿⡯⣞⣩⣿⣽⣽⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣽⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣷⣿⡿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠫⢿⣿⣿⡿⣼⣽⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣿⣻⢻⣻⣾⣿⡯⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⢿⢿⠽⠿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⢍⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣯⣽⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣞⠻⣽⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⡳⡷⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⡿⣭⣩⣾⢏⣤⠛⡪⣷⣿⡯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿ ⣿⠿⢿⣿⢻⣻⣯⣿⠜⢻⡇⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣻⢿⣿⣊⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣛⢣⣿⣿⣟⡣⣝⠯⠛⡘⣻⡹⣻⣿⣿⣿⡋⠟⣰⣿⣿⣿⡟⢟⣟⣻⢋⣷⢿⠿⣧⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣻⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣯⣵⣮⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣘⣟⢻⡿⢛⢹⣙⣟⣥⣴⣿⣱⣦⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿ ⠿⢾⡿⢾⡟⢓⢑⠄⡀⠈⠡⣚⢿⣶⡽⣷⣫⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡼⣿⢃⣻⣿⡝⣲⣷⣿⣳⢼⠙⢟⢱⣿⡅⣻⣿⠐⠣⣿⡻⠻⠿⢚⢋⢀⢉⠑⢲⣞⣵⣏⢫⣿⡙⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡔⠀⠤⢆⡔⣀⡘⠃⠙⠕⠴⠙⣺⣿⣭⢳⣿⡞⣿⣽⢹⣮⠺⢂⠆⢻⣢⠙⠏⣼⣗⣌⡻⣿⠿⣛⡒⠝⠉⣁⡘⣗⢲⡗⡐⠠⠐⠂⠀⠈⠇⠶⣥⡊⠽⡵⣼⡮⣿⣡⣧⡿⣭⢾⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣻⡷⢋⣜⡷⠗⣨⡊⢳⡀⠄⠠⢼⠏⢉⢹⣿⡿⣢⢛⣕⣮⡲⣝⣎⣾⠙⠛⠨⠋⣭⠧⣆⣽⡘⡋⡤⠀⠙⢜⠉⡥⣟⢴⣟⣨⣀⠘⡀⠀⠀⠔⣡⣖⣿⣷⣾⣿⣛⣷⣿⣻⣫⣿⣿⣛⣓⣺⣿⣿⣍⡿⣺⢾⣻⣿⣿⣟⣫⣽⣿⣿⢻⠿⠏⢩⣭⢿⣟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣯⣿⣽⣟⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿ ⡛⡁⢬⡝⠟⢰⣄⠀⠁⢦⣀⡀⠠⣴⠊⠹⣡⣶⣶⠌⢛⠽⠖⡋⠉⠒⠊⣁⠠⠄⠀⠒⡿⢾⣧⡭⡄⠐⠀⠀⠀⠉⡀⣤⠩⠰⡷⠀⠀⣀⢕⣚⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣭⣽⣿⣿⣏⣙⣢⠽⣷⣮⣭⣿⣿⣿⢿⣳⣩⣭⡙⠻⣥⣙⣛⣿⠟⢾⣭⢝⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣵⣾⢿⣛⡓⣷⣿⣭⣭⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿ ⣥⠆⣿⣿⡄⠀⠁⠠⡾⠠⡑⠀⡬⣀⣺⢀⠨⠁⡈⠑⠀⣀⠉⠐⠓⠘⡀⣷⠐⡆⠨⠏⠛⠋⠀⡀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠰⠏⠰⠠⢗⣶⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡿⢷⠧⣞⣡⠻⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣇⣆⠽⣓⠒⣛⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⡯⣿⡽⠯⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡒⢣⣿⢬⡚⠣⠆⡀⠁⣤⣼⣇⣶⣮⠀⠆⠁⢠⠄⠄⠄⠁⣤⠆⠄⠀⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⠄⠀⠈⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡬⣲⢊⣐⠚⠿⡿⣿⣿⣏⣻⣷⣶⣿⣿⣽⡿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢯⡭⠍⡿⠟⣶⣿⣿⣛⣽⣿⣿⣞⣯⣾⡛⢓⢚⡺⢟⣻⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⣺⣵⣞⢷⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿ ⡀⠚⢙⣬⣧⠄⠀⠘⠦⣩⡟⠛⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠓⠧⡀⠀⠂⠤⠤⠒⠂⠀⠙⡀⡄⠀⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⣾⠾⢗⡛⣀⡈⣑⣻⣿⣿⣽⣿⣾⣿⣭⣴⣿⣿⣿⣷⣟⣿⣭⣭⣯⣾⣼⣛⣼⠿⣽⣼⣿⡿⣟⣛⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⠷⢾⡾⣿⢿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣽⠾⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣟⣿ ⠁⣐⣡⣾⡟⣦⣷⡭⠀⣀⠀⡚⠰⠘⡍⣻⣋⣈⢤⣠⠀⠂⠀⡀⡭⠄⣵⣢⣹⡘⣸⠄⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢩⣟⣫⡽⣓⣂⢂⠐⣒⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣷⣯⠛⠬⢵⣶⣫⣷⣶⣷⢒⣩⢤⠠⠄⠉⠀⠂⠑⢂⠝⣻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⣖⣛⣭⣵⠚⠨⡭⢷⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣺⣿⣿ ⠀⠣⢫⠴⠸⣍⡮⣛⠶⡲⢁⣀⣄⠂⠈⠐⣛⢿⣾⣿⢆⡶⡧⣵⣜⡸⠷⣦⣿⡿⢁⠈⠤⡁⠆⢀⠢⣁⢓⣶⣻⡯⣿⣿⢥⣼⢮⣳⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠴⣊⣼⠻⠟⣛⡛⢧⡶⢮⣿⣻⢶⣫⠱⣈⠀⠀⠀⢰⣘⣿⣭⣾⠿⢿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣤⣦⣙⡗⡬⢷⣮⣶⡟⠿⣿⡟⡿⠽⣋⣿ ⣘⠍⢉⡴⣧⣿⡞⡣⠿⢛⣊⣋⢶⣦⣩⣤⣟⡿⣢⣿⣿⣶⣥⡍⣿⣱⠖⠬⠋⢄⠂⢊⠐⡐⠈⡀⣡⢞⡽⢿⣿⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⡻⣷⣿⣾⡉⠶⠐⠬⠳⠷⣦⣟⢏⠳⠭⢒⠒⠓⢆⢂⡐⠐⠦⢿⣛⢛⣹⡯⠝⣻⡷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣾⣷⣿⣿⣟⣿⣳⡗⠶⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⠗⠿⢿ ⠍⠀⣭⣛⣛⣯⣭⣿⣿⡛⠷⠛⠶⡊⠉⠭⣉⣛⣯⡵⠶⢾⣭⣽⣿⣿⡯⠬⠅⡌⠂⠄⠂⠄⠁⡀⠖⠓⠜⠭⢧⣖⣸⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⡻⡷⡜⣶⢍⡡⠀⢉⡐⠝⡾⡭⢿⣾⡷⠍⢂⠄⠀⠈⢄⡓⣯⠶⣭⣿⣿⣻⣿⣟⣿⠻⣝⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣾⢿⣿⣿⡿⣽⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡳⠶⢶⣾ ⠐⢙⣛⣿⣯⣥⣼⣯⣕⣾⣿⣷⣟⣾⣷⠛⠛⣫⣋⣹⣿⣟⣶⣿⡿⠛⠉⢀⠒⢀⠂⢄⡀⠠⠐⠠⠭⡍⠮⠍⡀⠉⠉⠯⢽⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣩⠿⢿⣿⣟⣿⣻⢳⡟⣷⣋⢭⠩⠆⡁⠠⠠⢉⣸⠵⡲⢑⢚⣛⣦⣆⣈⠤⡠⣜⣹⣻⢿⣷⡿⣭⢭⣛⣿⣿⣽⣟⣿⣟⣛⣿⣽⣿⣭⢿⣏⣛⢯⣿⣭⣿⣛⣻⣮⣿⣋⣈⣥⣶⡼⢿⣿⣿ ⣽⣷⣿⣿⣿⢟⣻⣿⡿⣽⣯⣽⣿⣽⣶⡾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⡿⢯⠭⠡⠈⠀⠀⠀⠈⢄⠢⡑⢌⡡⢭⡙⢦⠐⠀⠀⠀⠠⠍⡿⢟⡷⣾⢿⣶⣿⣾⣿⣿⣛⣿⣷⣻⣷⣫⣍⢟⡳⣋⠖⣠⢳⣯⣿⣬⠷⡱⡈⠖⡘⠒⠻⣞⣔⡒⣆⣙⣻⣿⣽⣻⣟⣿⣿⢾⣿⡻⢿⢿⣿⡛⢿⣿⣋⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⢇⡓⠯⣟⣿⣿⣻⢻⣼⣿ ⣉⣥⣿⣽⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡛⡾⢿⣿⢿⣟⡛⣿⣙⡻⢬⡑⣂⠄⢀⠀⡁⡌⠬⡡⠧⣍⣲⣟⡦⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠌⠥⢳⠜⢿⣟⣻⡵⢿⣿⣭⣽⣞⣷⣱⣓⠖⡂⠜⠚⠛⠘⢋⠁⢙⠫⢍⠑⠈⠀⠈⠈⠓⣊⠭⣍⣳⣤⣅⡭⣟⣩⢹⣯⡝⡻⣋⢻⣯⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⢛⡟⢎⡰⠑⣈⣹⣿⣟⡻⢽⣿ ⣶⣏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡴⢢⠑⡎⠝⢫⢿⣿⣟⡿⢯⣿⣻⡽⣆⣶⣌⡒⡔⣋⡓⣲⡽⣞⢑⡾⣳⣞⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⠸⣋⠯⣇⣾⡭⣟⣳⣟⣿⢿⣿⡿⢩⢋⡔⠠⠀⠀⠁⠐⢂⢈⠣⢈⠐⠀⠀⢀⠠⣄⣜⣻⣛⡽⣶⠭⠿⣿⢿⣿⣭⡽⣍⢯⣭⣙⡺⣼⣟⡿⣯⣽⢿⣷⣿⣿⣟⣻⣿⡞⣭⢎⢡⠀⠠⠒⠚⠻⠿⣿⣳⣼ ⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⡽⡞⣔⠃⠌⢀⠈⠅⡚⠶⣛⢙⡉⣐⢳⣿⣭⣷⣾⣷⢿⣿⣳⢷⣝⣮⣙⣿⣿⡷⢚⡱⢣⡄⠤⢀⢀⡉⠸⣷⣿⡿⢳⢿⡗⢻⣟⡿⣗⠻⡟⢃⠞⣆⣃⡳⡒⠆⡐⣘⠢⢁⠠⢄⠣⣬⣟⡾⢌⣵⣟⣋⣝⣾⣽⣿⣾⣭⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣏⣱⢮⣿⣷⣮⡍⣿⣻⡽⣿⢯⡳⣝⢦⡋⡄⢂⠄⠂⠤⢆⣀⣀⡿⣽ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⡻⣬⠁⠆⡀⠈⠄⣁⠚⣤⢃⠒⠠⠒⡰⢭⣭⣏⣛⡻⣶⡻⣯⣾⣽⣿⠳⡭⣍⠛⣿⣷⠭⣎⣱⣒⣬⠷⣟⠿⣿⢻⡷⠿⣎⣿⡿⢿⣻⣽⣳⠞⡴⡤⠄⠀⠁⠀⠀⠈⢅⡚⣴⢛⣶⣿⣟⣿⣻⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣯⣝⣻⣟⠏⢧⣙⣚⢷⡴⣞⣷⡭⢽⣳⡟⢶⣩⠶⣱⡘⢄⡊⡑⢎⠞⣽⣏⡔⣽ ⣟⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⣹⡿⣿⡿⣫⠗⣯⢍⡒⠤⡑⢂⠤⠉⡔⠨⢈⠁⠘⢠⢛⡾⣽⣯⣥⣿⣹⣽⣿⣿⣺⠙⠳⠜⠻⢿⡟⣻⣽⣻⣝⣳⡛⣬⢳⣍⣩⣽⣿⣶⣯⣟⣿⣭⣙⣣⠻⠶⠵⢊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠐⠻⠼⢯⡿⢿⠿⣶⢿⣾⡛⣉⣉⠉⢌⣙⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣭⡟⢿⡦⢽⢿⣾⢷⣻⡖⣯⢻⣼⣛⡦⢍⠢⠰⣑⢪⡙⡞⡾⣔⠾
CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xvii (By NeuroFabulous) Chip's never felt so close to his dad, not even when they used to build sandcastles on the beach. Plankton's antennae tickle his neck, a gentle reminder of the trust that's been slowly building between them. The snores are a comforting background to the quiet evening. "Can I sleep out here, next to Dad?" Chip asks. Karen nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "Of course," she whispers, her voice a soft caress in the darkness. "Just be careful not to disturb him. Let's get you both set up." They work together, moving pillows and blankets, careful not to jostle Plankton. Chip watches as his mother gently lifts his father's head, placing it gently on his own pillow as Chip stands up. They move a soft foot bench for Chip to sleep on next to Plankton. Karen pulls a blanket over both of them, tucking it around them both. Chip's heart races with excitement, his mind racing with the newfound connection. He lies down on the foot bench, his body tense with anticipation. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly as he shifts, but he doesn't stir. Karen's eyes are a soft moon, her gaze a gentle reminder of the night ahead. "Remember," she whispers. "Don't move too much. He needs his space." Chip nods, his eyes filled with understanding. He watches as Karen disappears upstairs, the light flickering before going out. The room is a canvas of shadows, Plankton's snores a soft metronome. He lies still, his mind whirling with thoughts. It's strange, feeling his dad's body so close. He's always been the one to move away, the one to hide. But here he is, sleeping. The room is quiet, save for Plankton's snores. Chip swallows, his heart thumping. He reaches out his hand, his fingers trembling slightly. He's never felt so nervous about something so simple. He touches Plankton's antennae, his heart in his throat. They twitch slightly at the contact, but Plankton doesn't wake up. Chip's breath escapes in a silent whoosh. He holds his hand there, his fingertips exploring the softness of his father's antennae. They're so delicate, like tiny whiskers. Plankton's breathing doesn't change. Encouraged, Chip slides his hand further up, his heart racing. He's never felt so close to his dad, not even during those rare moments when Plankton allows a brief hug. His hand comes to rest on Plankton's shoulder, his father's arm lying limp. Plankton's snores hitch for a moment, his antennae twitching erratically. Chip's heart leaps into his throat, but then Plankton relaxes again, his snores resuming their comforting rhythm. Chip's hand remains on his father's shoulder, his mind racing with thoughts of all the times he's wanted to be closer. He's never dared to touch him like this before, afraid of setting off a storm of sensory overload. But now, as Plankton sleeps, his antennae lying still against his head, Chip feels a strange sense of peace. He watches his father's chest rise and fall, his snores a soothing lullaby. He's always been so quick to retreat into his shell, but here, in this quiet moment, he's vulnerable, his defenses down. Chip's hand remains on his father's shoulder, his thumb tracing gentle circles. He wonders if Plankton knows how much he's wanted to connect like this. How much he's longed for the kind of closeness that other kids share with their dads. The antennae on Plankton's head twitch slightly, and Chip holds his breath. But Plankton's snores remain steady, his body relaxed. A smile tugs at the corner of Chip's mouth. He's never felt this level of acceptance from his father, not even during their rare moments of physical contact. He leans closer, his eyes studying Plankton's sleeping face. His father's cheeks are still a bit puffy from the surgery, but there's a peace to his expression that Chip hasn't seen in a long time. His antennae lie still, no longer twitching with pain or irritation. Chip's hand on his shoulder feels like an anchor, a connection he's longed for. He wonders if Plankton's dreams are filled with the colors and shapes of their underwater world, or if he dreams of a place beyond the reef, a place where his inventions come to life. Chip simply watches him sleep, his own eyes drooping with exhaustion. As the night stretches on, the snores become a lullaby, a rhythm that soothes Chip's racing thoughts. He's so close to his dad, closer than he's ever been. The room feels smaller, yet somehow more expansive, like the ocean outside their door. He watches Plankton's chest rise and fall with each breath, his antennae lying still against his forehead. It's strange, seeing his father so vulnerable, so open to the world. In sleep, Plankton's usual defensive posture has melted away, leaving behind a softness that Chip has never seen before. He tentatively reaches out his other hand, his fingers sliding under the blanket to rest lightly on Plankton's hand. It's a small gesture, but it feels like a monumental step forward. Plankton's hand twitches, but doesn't pull away. Chip's breath catches in his throat, his heart racing. He holds his breath, waiting for a reaction. But Plankton's snores remain steady. Chip's heart thumps in his chest. He's never felt this close to his father. It's like they're sharing a secret, a quiet moment of understanding. He squeezes Plankton's hand gently, his thumb tracing the outline of his father's palm. Plankton's antennae twitch again, his hand moving slightly under Chip's. Chip's heart leaps, his eyes widening. Did he feel that? A soft squeeze from Plankton's hand, a silent communication. He squeezes back, his grip gentle. Plankton's snores continue, his hand relaxing into Chip's. The moment stretches, a warm band connecting the two of them. Chip's heart is a caged bird, fluttering with excitement. He's never felt so close to his dad, never thought this was possible. He watches as Plankton's snores deepen, his hand in his father's a silent promise of support. The room is a symphony of quiet moments, each breath a note of peace. Chip's lulled by the steady beat of his father's snores. His eyes drift shut, his mind a kaleidoscope of thoughts. He dreams of a world where Plankton's antennae don't twitch with fear, where the shutdowns don't steal him away. He dreams of a future where they can share laughter, not just the quiet moments like this. Hours later, Plankton's snores have turned into soft, even breaths. The room is bathed in the gentle glow of early morning, the sun peeking through the curtains. Plankton stirs, his antennae twitching as he awakens to a new day. He blinks slowly, his eye adjusting to the light. And then he sees it. Chip's hand, curled around his own, a warm pressure that grounds him. His son's body, curled into the foot bench, his chest rising and falling silently with sleep. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly as he blinks, his mind foggy with the remnants of sleep. He tries to sit up, to pull away, but his body protests, a dull throb in his cheeks reminding him of the surgery's aftermath. He feels a warmth beside him, his son's hand in his own, a gentle reminder of the night's unexpected intimacy. His heart thumps in his chest, the realization hitting him like a gentle wave. Chip had been there, holding on, a silent support through his slumber. Plankton's antennae quiver, his brain slowly waking up. He's not used to this, to being touched so casually, so openly. It's a foreign sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. He looks down at their joined hands, his son's thumb resting against his palm. He's torn between retreating and embracing the moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. But his son's gentle breaths, the weight of his body against his side... He feels a strange warmth, a feeling he's often chased away. But here, in the quiet pre-dawn light, he lets it in. Plankton's antennae twitch, a quiet acknowledgment of his son's presence. He doesn't pull away, his hand still in Chip's. His mind is a tornado of thoughts, spinning with the realization that he's allowed this unsolicited closeness with Chip. Plankton's heart beats faster, his antennae quivering slightly. He's not used to this, the unexpected warmth, the silent comfort of his son's touch. But as the moments stretch into something more, he finds that he doesn't want to pull away.
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