Half Man, Half Bat, All Freak

ravyn || 22 || she/her i'm crazy about dispatch rn so, yeah!!!

[raoulsleftfoot]

sketch that took inspo from this fic called High Pony by ghouliaur on ao3! really good one shot

needed to stop looking at this before i got frustrated. hope yall like it

[raoulsleftfoot]

dunno if tumblr would like this. but hello anyways.

the reference pose i saw on twitter and immediately thought of them. they are so hot. thank u for coming to my ted talk

[jibberjibbsart]

I got to repeat, chew up, spit out, the blame complex in me

[bloopiebloops]

I've had my little eye on all the cute outfits by @512s-boutique-for-fandoms and I'm very excited that I got to draw one :) It was fun giving Robert LASHES.

Here's the original: Pin-up Bunny Robert

ref under cut (it's a silly perfume ad!)

[flamberttext]

Properly refueled with enough coffee to survive the next stretch of his shift, Robert returned to the desk in his cubicle after a short break during the second half of his workday.

He pulled his phone out of the desk drawer where he kept it and was, surprisingly, greeted with message notifications from Flambae.

Maybe not that surprising. Flambae texted him constantly. Especially on his days off, which was exactly the case today.

Robert chuckled to himself as he read the messages. He set his coffee mug down on the desk and typed back:

After sending the message, Robert locked his phone and was about to slip it back into the drawer when another notification lit up the screen.

He frowned, shut the now-empty drawer, leaned back into his chair, and opened the new messages from Flambae.

Once again, he finished typing, locked the screen, and placed the phone face down on the desk beside his keyboard.

He reopened the SDN program and stared at the exclamation points popping up in the corners of Torrance. But before he could even put his headphones on and fully refocus on work, his phone vibrated again.

Robert ignored it.

Then a second vibration. A third. A fourth.

He exhaled quietly, grabbed the phone, and unlocked the screen.

Robert’s eyes were still on that last message when the chat shifted upward with a new notification.

A photo.

His eyes widened briefly at the content. He subtly adjusted his posture, angling the hand holding his phone out of sight from anyone passing by his cubicle.

Looking more carefully, he saw the picture wasn’t fully explicit. It was a side shot of Flambae lying on his stomach on their bed, wearing a cropped shirt and tight black boxer briefs patterned with little flames, the fabric hugging his ass.

Robert quickly typed back.

Another photo.

This one made Robert bite his lower lip and sit up straighter as a wave of heat crept up the back of his neck. The shirt was really gone. Bare skin. Defined lines. Flambae was now lying on his back, shirtless, wearing that same mischievous little smirk.

Robert read the message and set the phone aside, figuring that if he stopped responding, Flambae would stop pushing.

He didn’t.

The screen kept lighting up with new notifications. When Robert finally looked again, he saw three more photos — ones that made him slide his legs further under the desk to conceal the growing bulge between them.

The next picture was closer. Lower. Flambae’s right thumb hooked into the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down just slightly.

In the following photo, the underwear was gone, but the angle had been carefully chosen to reveal nothing explicit. The focus was on Flambae’s bare V-line and the happy trail disappearing lower, along with a teasing line of low flames painted across his chest like a provocative tattoo.

But it was the final photo that made Robert actively swallow back a small sound. The angle was low again, showing Flambae stretched out completely naked on the bed, only a thin — nearly sheer — white sheet draped over him from the waist down.

Robert exhaled slowly, pulse quickening as he stared at the images. One hand dragged down his face while the other tightened around his phone.

Then — a video.

Thankfully, it had no sound, because Robert didn’t hesitate before pressing play.

In the short clip, Flambae smiled at the camera, then brought the phone closer to his face. Robert read the words on his lips: “Clock out early.” Flambae then tilted the camera down to give a slow view of his half-covered body before the video abruptly ended.

Robert locked his phone.

He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

Flambae had done it. He had won this little game.

Robert picked up the desk phone and called Blazer’s office, asking if he could leave early because he had a headache. Blazer was kind about it, telling him it was fine and that he could head home — she would have someone cover the rest of his shift.

Robert didn’t even bother texting Flambae back.

When he got home, his actions would speak for him.

For this nonnie <3

[flamberttext]

Robert is sitting sprawled across the couch, one leg stretched out and the other loosely bent, his attention split between his phone and the warm weight of Beef curled against his side. His thumb scrolls lazily across the screen while his other hand moves in slow, absentminded strokes over Beef’s head, fingers sinking into soft fur in a steady, soothing rhythm. That’s when Flambae walks in from the bedroom.

“What is this?” Flambae asks, accusatory, his voice cutting through the calm as he strides into the room and stops directly in front of Robert.

In Flambae’s right hand is Robert’s keychain, which he holds up inches from Robert’s face, invading his space without hesitation.

Robert blinks, his eyes flicking from the object to Flambae’s expression, then back again. “Hmm… my keys?” Robert replies, setting his phone aside on the couch cushion.

Beef stirs at the sound of voices, ears twitching before he lifts his head. After a brief, sleepy glance between the two men, he decides this is no longer a peaceful place to nap. He climbs off Robert’s lap with a soft huff and pads away, disappearing toward a quieter corner.

“I’m not stupid. I know it’s your keychain, Bob Bob,” Flambae grumbles, clearly annoyed, shaking it in Robert’s face again. “I’m talking about this. What the fuck is that?”

Robert presses his lips together, physically holding back the smile threatening to break through. He knows exactly what Flambae is pointing at, and he’s enjoying this far too much.

“Well… that is my plush keychain,” Robert says proudly, reaching up and easily plucking the keys from Flambae’s hand.

“That’s me!” Flambae snaps, still worked up as he drops down heavily beside Robert on the couch. He sits upright, shoulders tense, turning slightly toward Robert like he’s ready to argue this into the ground.

“Yeah, it’s a plush of you,” Robert agrees, completely unfazed. He tilts the keychain in his hand, examining the tiny version of Flambae with clear fondness, his thumb brushing over the fabric. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“I am not cute, Bobert,” Flambae shoots back, his voice pitching just a little higher. “Why the fuck do you even have that?”

Robert finally turns his head fully, angling his body just enough to look at Flambae properly, one eyebrow lifting in quiet amusement.

“Because I bought it. Online,” Robert says casually, like that should explain everything, even as the corner of his mouth twitches with barely-contained amusement.

“Uh-huh.” Flambae narrows his eyes at him, lips pressing into a thin line as he nods sharply, clearly unconvinced.

Robert watches him for a second, taking in the stubborn set of his jaw, the way his shoulders stay just a little too rigid. He can tell Flambae feels completely contradicted — and that only makes it funnier.

“Why?” Flambae tries again a few seconds later, shaking his head as if resetting the conversation.

That does it. Robert lets out a grin, broad and unrestrained this time, as he hooks the keyring around his finger and spins it lazily. “Because I wanted to carry you with me all the time.”

Flambae squints even harder, his gaze sharpening as he leans in just a fraction. Robert is definitely messing with him and he knows it.

“Where did you even get that?” Flambae asks, his eyes darting between Robert’s face and the tiny plush version of himself spinning in slow circles around Robert’s fingers.

“I told you, online. Some fan site for heroes or something,” Robert says, still smiling as he lets the keys fall into his palm before placing them down on the table beside the couch. “You’ve got a lot of fans, you know.”

Flambae’s expression shifts almost immediately. The tension in his brow eases, and a smug, self-satisfied smile starts to creep in, slow and inevitable.

“Yeah, I know that, Bob Bob. Because I’m fucking incredible,” Flambae says, his tone turning playful as he leans back slightly, finally relaxing into the couch.

Robert rolls his eyes fondly. He shifts closer, closing the space between them before smoothly sliding into Flambae’s lap, knees wrapped around his hips.

“Or just incredibly full of yourself,” Robert teases, his voice softening as he dips his head, pressing light kisses along Flambae’s neck. The contact is warm and deliberate, followed by a few playful nips that make his teasing feel a little more pointed.

Flambae’s hands come up almost instinctively, settling firm against Robert’s sides before one slides up to his jaw.

“How about I shut that smart, insolent mouth of yours?” Flambae shoots back, his voice dropping as his grip tightens just enough to guide Robert’s face toward his.

He pulls Robert into a kiss. A decisive kiss that asserts his authority, peppered with gentle bites.

When they part, the shift in mood lingers in the space between them. Robert doesn’t move far, his hands coming up instead to cradle Flambae’s face, thumbs brushing slowly over his cheeks in a softer, lingering touch.

“I could get you a Mecha Man plush keychain too, you know… since you’re basically obsessed with the guy,” Robert offers, barely holding back a laugh.

Flambae huffs loudly in mock irritation, but the reaction is immediate. With a quick shift of weight, he grabs hold of Robert and flips them both, the cushions dipping under the sudden movement as he pins Robert beneath him on the couch.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna have to shut you up properly this time, Bobert.”

[flamberttext]

[angrydack]

🐶

[flamberttext]

Chad sends this to Prism.

⤹ Prism & Flambae

⤹ z-team group chat

˗ˏˋ Meanwhile ˎˊ˗

Flambae carefully stacks the drinks in the back of the car before climbing in and settling into the driver’s seat.

“I lost signal.” Flambae grumbles, lowering his bright pink-and-orange tinted sunglasses.

From the passenger seat beside him, Robert hums quietly in agreement.

“Did you at least manage to tell her we’re on our way?” Robert asks, watching Flambae while the driver adjusts his glasses and fixes his hair, checking himself in the rearview mirror.

After about five seconds of silence — Flambae still stares at his own reflection — Robert clears his throat.

“Kind of.” Flambae finally says. He straightens the mirror properly and turns the key in the ignition. “She might’ve understood that we’re fucking.”

Robert frowns and crosses his arms over his chest, watching Flambae’s profile as the car pulls away from the small convenience store and heads toward Prism’s house.

“What exactly would give her that impression?” Robert asks, genuinely curious.

“You know…” Flambae clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “I was trying to send ‘we’re fucking getting drinks’, but only ‘we’re fucking’ went through before I lost signal.”

Robert takes a few seconds to process that. Once it clicks, he lets out a quiet laugh. The sound makes Flambae instinctively glance away from the road for half a second, just long enough to catch a glimpse of his dispatcher’s smile.

“Why are you laughing, Bob Bob? Did I fucking tell a joke or something?” Flambae teases, trying to sound stern.

Robert simply shrugs, not even bothering to check if Flambae noticed the small movement.

“The whole team probably knows about it by now.” Flambae continues, mostly to keep the conversation going.

“Probably.”

Robert’s indifferent, one-word answer itches at the back of Flambae’s brain.

“So you don’t care that they think we’re fucking?” Flambae asks, sneaking another glance at the dispatcher.

“Not really.” Robert shrugs again. “We could be…”

Flambae’s eyes widen instantly, and he has to react quickly to stop himself from slamming the brakes out of pure reflex.

“What the fuck are you saying, bitch?” Flambae almost growls at him.

Robert laughs again, this time much more openly.

“Relax. I’m not saying we should… I’m saying we could.” Robert clarifies, a confident smile lighting up his tired face.

“Who said I want to fuck you, Robbo-bitch?” Flambae keeps grumbling, though now he avoids looking at Robert altogether, forcing his attention back to the road.

“Yeah, sure you don’t, Chad…” Robert replies sarcastically as he checks his phone. “Hm. I’ve got a signal now. I’ll let them know we're on your way.”

While Robert scrolls and taps on his phone, now almost completely distracted from the existence of the driver, Flambae tries to keep his eyes on the road ahead instead of on Robert.

And not think about what it would be like to actually have Robert like that, just for himself.

I feel like this could’ve turned out better and I might even try to redo it later because I really like this texting idea, esp between Prism and Bae 😭 but I’m sooo short on time this week that I kinda rushed it just so the blog wouldn’t be empty. thx for the ask, hope u liked it ravyn <3

[artbytosin]

stop arguing with people in the comments of your thirst traps and light your dispatcher's cigarette, you Loser

// i forgot i had a tumblr and apparently someone posted my work here so i thought it was high time i restarted my blog. hello dispatch yaoi fans

my twitter || my instagram

[cinnabarfangs]

trying to distract myself from The Incident with flambert...

[alsoika]

big fan of that bar fight idk

[arczism]

honk shoo mimimi

[egosketch]

[flamberttext]

Flambae is such a proud bf, my baby <3

[flamberttext]

bob bob is just out there in the world trying to figure out what his teammates are even talking about.

[archangel-on-a-crossroad]