#face blindness

Nothing that could actually be looked down on.

Stones and glass houses and all that.

High society was always a shallow pool, filled to the prim with sharks who always thought they were the biggest.

If news got out thy Bruce Wayne had face blindness, it would be the first step in what could be the downfall of any reputation he had. How could they leave one of the country’s biggest companies in the hands of a man who couldn’t tell the difference between the secretary and the accountant.

He would be deemed unfit and unreliable.

No matter how many years he had made it work. How much he had improved the company. How big his social network had grown through the years.

And no matter how much no one had noticed until now.

He wasn’t the young heir anymore, no longer too naive to be out in the public eye. His parents couldn't shield him anymore, he couldn't be hidden away in the large castle that was the mansion, in his ivory tower. Alfred could only keep him away for so long.

Whatever time used at home was used to train how else to recognize people, before it wasn't excusable to faulty memory.

Bruce saw people's faces like an almost moving jigsaw puzzle, none of the pieces in the right places, scrambling if he focused too hard on one spot of the big picture.

His favorite training was when Alfred would sit in his big chair and he would let Bruce poke and prod at his face, finding focus in the details; Eye color, hair shape and shade, facial hair and fake piercings. They would eventually take it up a step farther, pictures, videos, anyone that wasn't Alfred.

By 14, he had mostly mastered it enough to enter the public eye. Talk at galas, meet old family friends, go to fundraisers. Training to take over the company, break out of the bird cage.

When he ventured out on his own, setting into motion his plan to become the new guardian of Gotham, someone had to protect it. The need to train on how best to recognize people by something other than their face became vital.

Dick had a hard time coming to terms with it.

Why doesn't he recognize the kid he had fought so hard to get, just because he changed his shirt? He looked right at him that time, but his eyes still moved on to the next child right beside him.

It was only after he had gone right up to him, said his name, that his eyes slightly lit up and he opened his arms to bring him close.

"You scared me for a second there, chum." He had never moved more than 10 feet away from him, he had simply taken off his coat.

When Dick finally became determined to join the streets by Batman's side, whether he wanted him to or not, he knew he would have to do something, become something, unique.

The colorful suit that became the Robin suit was unlike any other.

Against the grey cement and dark red brick, it was unmissable. It was like the bright yellow cape was bringing light to a city that barely had a sliver.

It was also easy for Bruce to recognize no matter wind, rain or however many other people were around them. He would always be able to see him.

So the concept is Robert Is trying to search for Flambae Who has his hair up differently and wearing a different outfit meanwhile Chad is literally right next to him

You can do it if you'd like and remember drink lots of water and stay healthy you are loved

Based on when this ask showed up in my inbox, i’m guessing you’re talking abt this post where Robert thinks Flambae is getting a haircut, right? I’m not sure on the exact details, but from what I've seen, face blindness can also occur after head injuries/trauma. And considering all the years Robert’s spent fighting and getting knocked around, that’s probs how he ended up with it in this scenario. Just a bit of context, hope u like it :)

Robert hates crowded entrances.

It’s not the noise — he can deal with noise. It’s not even the waiting. It’s the faces. Too many faces, shifting, overlapping, refusing to stay in his head long enough to mean anything.

He’s standing by the cinema doors, phone in hand, pretending to check the time for the third time in a minute. Flambae said he’d already be here. Or almost. Or maybe Robert misread the message, again. That happens more often than he’d like to admit.

He scans the crowd once more.

He knows what to look for when he’s trying to find Flambae in a sea of people: a tall, muscular silhouette; long, dark hair, either tied in a ponytail or loose; clothes in shades of orange and red, maybe even something with flame patterns. Flambae’s bright amber eyes should be an easy target too, but not always in crowds like this. Those are Robert’s anchors.

But all he sees are blurs. Generic faces.

A tall, well-dressed man is leaning casually against a pillar just a few feet away. He’s wearing a black long-sleeve turtleneck, and his hair is styled in an elegant half-up, half-down look, with more defined curls.

Robert’s gaze passes right over him as he keeps searching, distracted, for his boyfriend,  who should’ve been here by now.

“Looking for someone, Bob?” the stranger asks. His voice is soft, teasing, playful in a way that feels familiar.

Robert blinks and turns toward him. He squints, trying to make out the man’s features, but answers automatically.

“Uh, yeah. My boyfriend–” He cuts himself off mid-sentence.

The voice. The accent. The teasing tone.

The realization hits, and with it, that familiar sinking feeling of guilt in his chest.

The stranger lets out a low, breathy laugh and steps into Robert’s personal space. “Then I guess I’m here to save your day” he says. “I’m right here, babe.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” Robert murmurs, his face flushing a deep, embarrassed crimson. “I– your hair. You changed your hair.”

“Yeah. Alice talked me into trying something different.” Flambae says with a small smile, idly twirling a loose curl around his finger. His expression softens when he sees the genuine distress in Robert’s eyes. “Hey. It’s okay.”

Robert exhales and nods.

He leans in, doing what he always does when the world turns into a blur of unrecognizable faces. He reaches out, his fingers brushing shyly along Flambae’s jaw.

He traces the familiar line of bone, then slides his hand upward, threading his fingers into the soft hair at the nape of Flambae’s neck. He takes in the specific way the strands curl around his fingers, the warmth of Flambae’s skin.

Robert’s shoulders loosen as recognition finally settles. Not just through sight, but through everything: the angle of Flambae’s face under his hand, the way Flambae stands close, how he has to tilt his chin slightly down to look at him, the hint of a teasing smile on Flambae’s lips as he patiently lets Robert take his time.

There he is. His boyfriend. There is Chad.

Robert’s hand lingers for a second longer than necessary before falling back to his side. When he looks at Flambae again, there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Hi.” Robert says, softer now, like he’s greeting Flambae properly this time.

Flambae laces their fingers together. “Hi, Bob.”

“You look really beautiful.” Robert says, his voice steadier now. “I like the turtleneck. And the hair… it suits you.”

April 7th: Talk about autistic characters in media. What are your favorite canon autistic characters? Are there any characters that you view as autistic, that aren't officially so? What about them makes you think they are autistic? How do you relate to them? What would you like to see in autistic characters in the future?

Pixie not really in to any “ media “ other than some simple language books .

Not can sit long enough to get through TV shows , and even more difficulty with full length movies . Pixie struggle lots understanding what is happening on screen . And . Miss so much from be being not able to follow plot and story lines with out needing help extra explain things .

Pixie be severely face-blind . So . Really really struggle trying to keep track of characters . Not can recognize most individual characters . Is really difficult for Pixie not be able follow along with what be going on with each character because not can keep remembering them as separate and distinct characters . Is just too difficult for Pixie brain .

Pixie do have Youtube . But . Only use Youtube for watch painting tutorials . And that , plus tumblr , is all the social media Pixie can get and be able use .

Not sure if books count . Pixie not read much and usually just childrens stories , books for older people too often get really complicated and use too many words Pixie not understand . But . Not any have ever become “ special interests “ for Pixie .

Finally , Pixie brain have hard time separating what be real and what be just “ fake “ or “ play pretend “ , fiction , in television shows / movies / books .

BILL DICKEY WITH FACIAL BLINDNESS GRAAAHHH

study of evan dorkin's art style, i didn't do too shoddy of a job i hope

pls don't burn me at the stake, but bill... he's a little too me-coded.

Everybody: 😲😲😲😲😲😲😲!!!!!!

lo que es perderse en un par de ojos

como si fueran eternos.

He amado con la inocencia de un niño

y con la desesperación

de quien sabe

que el tiempo siempre se nos escapa.

Y aun así, sigo aquí…

con el pecho abierto,

con las manos dispuestas a abrazar,

con el alma temblando de ganas

de volver a sentir.

Porque aunque la vida

me haya arrancado pedazos,

aún me sobra amor,

aún me queda ternura

para escribir en la piel de alguien más

la historia que nunca se escribió completa.

—Dorian A

[Más allá de este mundo]