#need help learning

[bunnygirl-titties]

HELLO

I am learning welsh!

I would really really like to immerse myself in like music, tv, movies and stuff like that to help my brain understand the language and nuances of conversation!

So if anyone knows any welsh bands, welsh movies, or even welsh books that might be easy for a newbie to understand please let me know!

I appreciate the help and if there are any native speakers willing to lend a helping hand I would much appreciate that as well!

Ok to reblog

✨cismen•minors DNI✨

(Non colored text cuz this is important)

[marzipanandminutiae]

accused 17th-century English or English colonial witches in a certain subset of modern pseudo-feminist fiction: I'm a girlboss who can read, unlike other women! I live apart from the community and use herbs to basically invent modern medicine! my views align perfectly with many modern progressive talking points! also I wear my hair down because I'm a ~free spirit~

actual accused 17th-century English or English colonial witches: I'm homeless and mentally ill and my community just kind of wants me gone. or I'm Jewish or Romani. or maybe I have property that someone else wants. I could have strong opinions but that's usually not enough to attract witchcraft charges on its own unless the community is REALLY in a mess. I might even be an unpopular MAN who someone has an interpersonal squabble with, although statistically I am more likely to be a woman (unlike in Scandinavia, where the reverse is true)

[carsonjonesfiance]

Listen, before you say something like “Jim Crow laws were the template for the Holocaust” make sure you know the answer to this question: what��s the etymology of the word ghetto and when and where was it coined?

[mokeonn]

"But if college was free, then people would abuse that and get useless degrees" hell yeah I would! If I could go to college without debt I would make it my job to get a degree in every little thing that interested me. I'd get a doctorate in film studies. I'd have a bachelor's degree for every science I like. I'd try to learn at least 5 languages with varying results. I would learn something "useful" like coding and then follow it up with a ""useless"" degree like art history. I'd be the world record speed run holder for getting every degree possible.

But I can't afford college without going into massive debt, so instead I spent the last 5 years trying to figure out what I am passionate enough about to consider going into debt over, because unfortunately being passionate about everything is extremely expensive to pursue.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Yiling Band Tour!

[zu-is-here]

staking claim (happy belated bday to Killer xp)

During "courtship", a shark bites a female's tail trying to flip her over, sometimes so fierce that scratches and teeth marks are left ;3;

[5/10] Killer by rahafwabas / rahaf-wabas / rahofy-sketch

Cross from xtaleunderverse by jakei95

Leviathantale by skumhuu

[castielsprostate]

breaking the sign in two by how hard im tapping it

[aquanutart]

I was talking and I mentioned that I have my old Game Boy and original Pokemon cartridge. I said, "I think they still work."

I was told, "The internal batteries on the Game Boy cartridges have run out. They're all dead."

"Oh," I said, trying not to show how crestfallen I was. I felt like I was losing nerd cred for not knowing that, although I never kept up with that type of info anyway. I'm here for the fantasy and imaginative aspects of games, and tend not to follow the competitive or technical details.

I tried not to feel anything as I went home. If they were real animals, I reminded myself, I would have had to say goodbye long ago.

But like so many other people, Pokemon was my childhood. It was all I thought about and dreamed about, and the closest thing I could imagine to heartbreak was the knowledge that they weren't real. I spent nearly all my time writing longhand self-insert Pokemon fanfiction--far more than I spent actually playing the game. My Pokemon were with me in my imagination wherever I went. I started playing Pokemon Blue when I was 5, and the last time I had played it was probably when I was 9 or 10. I remembered I had turned it on again one more time after that, not to play it, but to look at my childhood Pokemon.

It was during high school, after a move overseas that completely upended my life, and I was struggling with the crushing blow of being taken away from everything I knew and trying to make sense of anything (least of all adolescence) in another language. All I wanted was to go back to childhood and have everything go back to how it was before.

Seeing my Pokemon, just as I'd left them, had comforted me. I had looked at their stats pages, taken photos of them with my digital camera (that I don't even know if I still have), and then turned it off without doing anything.

That was probably 9 or 10 years after the games came out. It had been a long time since then. I had long since taken the AA batteries out of my Game Boy Color and left it untouched. I didn't even have AA batteries anymore.

It had worked then. But now it had been 27 years... I thought about not trying to turn my cartridge back on. As long as I didn't turn it on, I could believe my Pokemon were still there, the way I remembered them.

On my day off, which happened to be Pokemon Day, I googled and read that some people on forums and Reddit were still able to play their original Pokemon games.

Then... it was possible. I went out to buy toothpaste. At the store, I asked where I could find AA batteries.

It was a big thing for me to be able to go to the store and buy things myself. When I moved at age 13, I felt like something went wrong with growing up. It was difficult to follow what people were saying, and people didn't always understand what I said either. I had been introverted even in English, but now I had enough negative experiences that I became afraid and stopped trying to talk to people altogether.

I threw myself into video games and reliving childhood memories. The internet was where I could communicate in my first language and understand. I lived online and didn't interact with the real world. On the internet I felt like I was understood and could find people who shared my interests the way I did, but in the real world it always felt like I could get hurt if anyone knew me.

I realize now that I could have had a better experience overseas if I'd known how to adapt and socialize, but this was not something I knew even in English, and trying to learn in another language made it ten times harder. I'm sorry now for missing out on interactions that I know I could have had, but I just didn't know how. I wouldn't know how until I learned, and it took me a long time to learn.

I grew up online, in the company of others who had trouble fitting in with the real world, even in their own language. Those experiences shaped me, and the friendships I've made and support I've received online are invaluable to me. The internet gave me a way to live, and through it I learned how to interact with others. But in many ways, for many years, it felt like my life was put on hold and I stopped growing up.

Several years ago I moved back, to not far from where I was born, and I was able to work for the first time. I began to interact with people and feel like I had a place in the real world.

After shutting myself away for so many years, every little step I made out in the world felt terrifying. But every little thing I did on my own made me feel like I was living for the first time.

Even something as little as going to the store and buying a pack of batteries.

I was directed to a shelf at the end of an aisle, and found myself looking at a rack of lithium AA batteries. Did they not sell the old kind anymore?

I walked around to the other side and was relieved to find the familiar black and brown Duracell batteries I'd known from my childhood. I felt more confident about putting in a battery that looked the same as I remembered. The smallest pack they sold was an 8-pack for $12.99. I really didn't need 8 batteries. I didn't have any other devices that used them.

I thought, what if I turn it on and it doesn't work and I'll have wasted $12.99?

I also thought we might already have batteries. I might be able to say, "Mom, do we have any batteries?" and she'd pull out two AAs from a drawer somewhere and I'd save my money.

But somehow I felt like part of what was important about this was being an adult and being able to buy my own batteries.

Yet... what if it just ended up making me sad? Was it better not to know?

I went to the checkout with just the toothpaste and stood hesitating at the edge of the checkout line.

If I didn't get the batteries now, and it turned out we didn't have any batteries, I wouldn't try it. I knew I would just put it off until even more time passed, and then... "Are you in line?" someone asked me.

"No," I said, and I turned around and went back to the shelf.

I bought the batteries.

At home, I took out my original Game Boy Color from the drawer where I left it, the one my dad had surprised me with when I was 5 years old and that I had brought overseas and back.

I put the batteries in and turned it on without a cartridge first to make sure the batteries were inserted correctly. The Game Boy logo scrolled across the screen and it made the familiar blinging Game Boy startup noise. I turned it off again, satisfied.

I took out my original Pokemon Blue cartridge, momentarily having to remember which way it went in, and slotted it in.

I turned it on, watched the whole Pokemon Blue intro out of nostalgia, and then pressed START.

My heart leaped for joy.

MY POKEMON!!!! MY POKEMON ARE ALIVE!!! 🥺🥺🥺

My original Pokemon, that were with me in 1998 when I was 5-6 years old, are still with me 27 years later. I want to cry!!! I love the old sprites, I'm SO happy to see them again 😭😭😭 the Pokemon look so little and cheerful at the same time, which I love 🥺🥺🥺 I know there are people with many more hours on their games, who have leveled all their Pokemon to 100. But these are my Pokemon who were with me through my childhood, and I spent many more hours making up stories about them than actually playing the game. I'm so happy to see them again 😭😭😭

All I want is to see my Pokemon. My other Pokemon are in boxes. Now, how do I get to the nearest PC? Where am I?

Oh... Oh. I have to confess something. When I was a kid, I was scared of the dark cave areas, and whenever I got to them, I stopped playing for a while. (I was stuck at Mt. Moon until I was like, 7.) So I never actually beat the game.

And here I am on Victory Road, with the team of Pokemon I was taking to the Elite Four, without an Escape Rope.

The only way for me to see my other Pokemon is... to finally make it through Victory Road, after 27 years?!

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Bored days

[sp0o0kylights]

Grass is green, water is wet, and Jonathan Byers does not like Steve Harrington.

These are known facts in the universe.

Computers were going to take over the world, a “mobile” phone was being invented, and Steve Harrington had lost most of his hearing.

These were unknown facts--rumors even, if you will. Eddie had never seen even a grain of truth to support any of them. 

(Well, maybe the computer thing, but only because Grant and Dustin both had made a couple of convincing arguments.) 

So he doesn’t think about it, when his freshman gang up on him. 

Doesn’t even factor the “can’t hear well” thing in, when he was tasked (demanded, whined, bitched and moaned at) with helping them explain to Steve why going to the release party of the new D&D box set, located at a hobby store only a mere 2 hour drive away, was important.

Eddie’s not even sure how the little shits got him to agree to do it until he’s standing in the parking lot in front of the former King himself. 

“The store’s leading up to the release with a handful of one-shots.” He’s explaining, unsure whether to pull out the bored act or play up his court jester persona, and thus mixing and matching on the fly. 

He does not care if Harrington doesn’t know what a one-shot is. 

“They’re releasing the set at midnight. You have to be there to get it though, you can’t have someone else pick it up for you because they only got a certain amount in.” 

Harrington’s frowning (no surprise) but it’s not until Eddie is well into his spiel about how his van is already full with the elder members of Hellfire, and thus has no room for the freshmen, that he realizes Steve isn’t quite looking at him. 

Is in fact, looking over his shoulder.

Eddie stops. Follows Harrington’s gaze.

Parked across from Steve’s Beemer, is Jonathan Byer’s barely working clunker car. 

A handful of steps in front of it, and thus nearly right behind Eddie, is the man himself.

His hands are still moving, mouth shaping words silent as he goes, his gaze locked not on Eddie or the kids--but on Steve. 

Who turns back around as Harrington’s eyes slide right back to him. 

“And this is taking place next Friday?” He says, in that sort of annoyed but resigned way parents aim at their children. “After school?” 

“I’d like to go during  school, but the freshmen insist you wouldn’t let them ditch out.” Eddie tells him. “They had two separate arguments about it.” 

Loud ones, that had interrupted the game and given Eddie a migraine. 

Once again Steve’s eyes slide away from him, to Jonathan. 

“They’re not skipping school.” He says suddenly, a glare forming and Jonathan makes an annoyed noise. 

“They argued about skipping, they’re not going to.” He says aloud, and finally steps up so that he’s next to Eddie instead of behind him. 

“Munson slow down, I can’t sign as fast as you’re talking.” He adds, in the hang-dog grumble he’s notorious for. 

Eddie stares at him. 

“Can he seriously not hear me?” 

“No.” Steve and Jonathan answer together. 

“I can kind of still hear,” Steve adds, gaze returning to Eddie’s face. “But its more loud music or noises. I can lip read, but you’re also talking too fast for that.” 

Without pausing, he turns back to Jonathan and says; “Why can’t you take them?”

“It’s Friday.” Byers deadpans. 

Eddie’s not an expert on sign language, but his hands somehow looked deadpan too. 

He’s not sure how Jonathan did that. 

“So?” Steve snarks back. 

What follows is an argument that Eddie is not, at all involved in, mostly because he’s too busy handling the fact that Jonathan Byers has learned sign language, for Steve Harrington, apparently, and given the tone the argument is taking they still don’t even like each other.  

Eventually the argument ends, Steve throwing his hands in the air and demanding that Jonathan owes him. 

(Eventually Eddie will corner the ever so quiet Will Byers and ask why the hell his brother learned sign language for someone he clearly fucking hates.

“Oh they don’t hate each other.” Baby Byers would say, in that shy, quiet way of his. “I think they’re actually friends now?” 

“You think?”

“Well--you’ve seen them.” Will shrugs. “I think being mean to each other is kinda their thing.” 

‘What the hell.’ Eddie would think, right up until he stumbled across one of the kids sign language books. 

Byers the Elder, he decides, isn’t the only person who should learn sign language to chew out Harrington properly.

The pay off is immediate. 

Or at least, the pay off of watching Steve’s shocked face the first time Eddie signs something vulgar at him is, anyway.)

[off-mozzarella]

(From the body swap AU)

Hii! I'm very happy to see that my body swap comic was so well received, so here's a little something as a thanks for all the support <3

I'm excited to keep sharing my drawings, I hope you like what I make!

[chocobje]

I notice that you don't have any 2x2 on your blog when I search his name... you should definitely draw him! oh, why? because he's awesome and not because I have a blog dedicated to him.......

-NOT a detector

I had to ask my friends who 2x2 was and apparently they were just a brick that banished 1x1x1x1 or something so I drew the brick and also the popular(?) design of them

[uncanny-tranny]

Basically, my philosophy around disability fakers is: I would rather a thousand people fake a disability than have one disabled person suffer without care, aids, compassion, or any help.

[bennetsbonnet]

Much has been made of Mr Darcy's "confession" to Elizabeth that he does not converse easily with strangers. It is repeatedly used to support neurodivergent interpretations of his character. And I suppose that when taken at face value, a character confessing that they do not easily converse with strangers and struggle to catch their tone or appear interested in conversation can absolutely scream AUTISM! (I say as an autistic person myself)

But this line is often taken in isolation. When considered in terms of the passage in which it appears in Chapter 31, it appears far less of a smoking gun than may initially be suspected. After some discussion about Elizabeth and Darcy's prior acquaintance in Hertfordshire, Colonel Fitzwilliam asks Elizabeth for information about Darcy's behaviour there. She readily supplies it:

'Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,' cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.' 'You shall hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.' 'I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.'

What Darcy leaves out here is that it was he himself who chose not to be introduced to anybody. As we learn from the description of his behaviour at the Meryton assembly in Chapter 3:

Mr Darcy danced only once with Mrs Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.

Anyway, Elizabeth correctly does not buy his excuses. Not only does she respond with a cutting sarcastic remark, but she tries to bring the discussion with an end by speaking to Colonel Fitzwilliam:

'True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.'

But Darcy does not get the hint and continues conversing with Elizabeth rather than quitting while he's ahead. However, I don't believe him to be missing a social cue here. Rather, this is an exceedingly conceited man who cannot conceive that anyone would not want to speak to such a Superior Being as he and more-so, is determined to defend himself from a perceived slight against his impeccable character.

Then we come to the passage containing the oft-cited line which allegedly contains proof of his neurodivergency:

'Perhaps,' said Darcy, 'I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.' 'Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?' said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?' 'I can answer your question,' said Fitzwilliam, 'without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.'

Once again, Elizabeth does not buy his excuse for even a single second. She's fully aware of all the advantages a man such as he will have received in society (opportunities not open to women, might I add!) and draws attention to that fact. It's a brilliant, cutting line from her and she really set that one up for Colonel Fitzwilliam to deliver the knockout blow.

Not only do we have the testimony of Mr Darcy's cousin, that 'he will not give himself the trouble,' to appear cordial to strangers, but we have evidence from Wickham too. Although after this statement, Wickham quickly goes onto misrepresent Darcy's kindness to the poor, which contradicts Mrs Reynold's later testimony, I do believe Wickham to be telling the truth (for once!) here, when he tells Elizabeth in Chapter 16:

'Mr Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while.'

Which, again, demonstrates that Darcy is capable when he wants to be. That is the crucial point. Autistic people fundamentally lack the ability to understand social cues, they cannot turn it on and off as they please because they are snobs.

So, now we come to the infamous line about Darcy's supposed social struggles, and I hope that I've provided enough context to the line to make you see that it should not be taken at face value:

'I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,' said Darcy, 'of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.' 'My fingers,' said Elizabeth, 'do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.'

Again, Elizabeth is not buying his excuses for even a single second and tells him if he feels like that, maybe he should put the effort in. She has seen him in numerous social settings and been thoroughly unimpressed with his behaviour which, when you consider his rudeness to her at the Meryton assembly, she has every right to be.

So, what do I make of the line?

Well, I think it's abundantly clear that Darcy absolutely can speak to people when he wants to. Perhaps, in his mind, he struggles to make that deeper connection and make friends easily. But making friends is not always easy, it's a process you must invest time and effort into. If you do not do that, it stands to reason that you will struggle. Plus, if you hold others to ridiculous standards (as Darcy does) without recognising and fixing the flaws within yourself, you're not going to have deep, lasting friendships.

While this quote may appear to be a moment of vulnerability where he does confess a fault of his, which is astounding given his pride, personally I do not think it was not a soul-searching exercise. It was to make Elizabeth stop grilling him. It was self-serving. Although, I don't think he's entirely lying. Darcy is veeeery careful with his words and though this statement is not considered and perhaps comes out rather abruptly, it doesn't necessarily follow that it isn't true. I can imagine that it is probably something he's felt for a while, yet it is a rather desperate attempt to defend himself from a woman who sees right through him.

I think perhaps Darcy does realise that he isn't as naturally gifted as other men he knows (such as Wickham, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Bingley) when it comes to forming acquaintances. However, he looks outwards and turns that bitterness against the world rather than looking inwards, reflecting upon himself and improving his manners which would be the correct thing to do. Thankfully, he later does this, but it took him twenty eight years...

In addition, Darcy appeared to have been under the illusion that he could coast by on Pemberley's reputation... which has always worked... until he met Elizabeth. For perhaps the first time, he encounters a woman who is not awestruck by him and his reputation and delivers the rebuke that he always needed.

So, while personally I'm inclined to believe there is some truth to his statement, as Mr Darcy is many things but he isn't a liar, I think it is said in desperation. His feeling stems from him knowing what he should do, but he can't be bothered to enact it... rather than any inherent social deficiency stemming from being neurodivergent.

Although, even if he does struggle socially, it's still no excuse for the rudeness he displayed to Elizabeth! My main issue with neurodivergent readings of Darcy is when they are deployed to defend his behaviour, when they attribute his rudeness to any potential neurodivergency and when they excuse his laziness. That is an awful message! Autistic people who struggle with social cues often do not, nor should they, go around insulting others. They should and often do put plenty of effort into being considerate and polite. In fact, I think, if anything, a love of rules makes us more likely to have good manners, rather than the reverse.

Ultimately, I'm not sure this line makes Mr Darcy the sympathetic-poor-sweet-innocent-shy-boy-autistic-representation that people want him to be. In fact it makes him look even worse, if anything. On matters such as these, he is every inch the conceited proud man he was widely believed to be at the Meryton assembly. Luckily, Elizabeth is an incredibly smart woman, who doesn't fall for it and immediately calls him out on his behaviour in a way that he has never experienced before. As she should!

[superbat-lmao]

A “buddy” vigilante story where Jason and Tim go back in time during Dick’s time as Robin, when the Worlds Greatest Detective was still young.

Basically, they significantly change the past and in the most annoying way possible. Tim knows that no one will know it was them and has been pretty morally flexible about the whole thing. They go down the list of rogues, down the list of siblings, bickering about it the whole time.

Jason kills the Joker, Tim rescues Cass, and both of them try and get one over on the other about their past selves.

Because Tim tries to talk baby Jason into stealing the Bat’s tires early while Jason’s out murdering Zucco, and Jason’s out snatching Tiny Tim and his camera from rooftops trying to leave him gift wrapped in the batcave while Tim’s out stealing info from Luthor.

It’s one giant clusterfuck but they’re successful because Tim and Jason combined are absolutely lethal and no one ever saw them coming.

Meanwhile, they keep running into Robin and absolutely losing it over seeing their oldest brother so young and angry.

Dick tries to track them down after they killed Zucco, he wants to ask why. What the hell they could possibly be doing or why that would matter to them.

Tim pushes Jason off a roof.Jason lights Tim’s ancient computer on fire. Tim tears a book in half. Jason takes pictures of Tiny Tim and sets them as his wallpaper. It’s a comedy, your honor.

And probably the worst headache Batman will ever get.