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✦ Meeting you at the finish line after chasing time again and again. Was it worth it? You’re here but I miss you. ✦
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if i look back, i am lost
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Xuebing Du
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

Love Begins
Sade Olutola
Mike Driver
Not today Justin
dirt enthusiast

#extradirty
will byers stan first human second
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
art blog(derogatory)
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styofa doing anything
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

titsay

Andulka
wallacepolsom

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@theartgooseh
(Reminder: sound ON 🔊)
✦ Meeting you at the finish line after chasing time again and again. Was it worth it? You’re here but I miss you. ✦
[More under cut]:
Chase and little Robert
Thought I'd post some of my Dispatch fanart might post the rest eventually 🤔
Drawn on 06.12.25
Commissions are open, link in bio...
I’m thinking about my Ghost Grandpa Bobby au again for the first time in a while, and I’ve talked some amount about Bobby being Robert’s constant cheer leader, but I also want it known that this man has zero filter.
I mean, he’s been stuck in a mech suit, unable to be seen or heard by anyone, for DECADES. After a while, you have to become your own entertainment.
Except now, he’s finally got an audience member for his personal stand-up routine! And poor Bobby’s not used to vetting his material.
————
Robert: *talking to Prism, minding his business.*
Bobby: wait a minute… Robert, is the blue half of her wig the wrong shade of blue? Oh my god, it is. Robert, I need you to ask her for me. Why doesn’t her wig match? If she’s such a popular figure, SURELY she has the money to properly color match her wig!
Robert: *eye twitching because now he can’t unsee it either*
————
Bobby: how light do you think Punch-Up can get?
Robert: I’m sorry, how light?
Bobby: his power is pictomancy, correct? He can control his density.
Robert: right, but he usually makes himself more dense, not less.
Bobby: but theoretically, if he can make himself lighter, that would make him even more impervious to physical force.
Robert: it would also make him fly around the room like a pinball if he got smacked.
Bobby: …
Robert: …
Robert: *over coms* Punch-Up, how light can you make yourself?
————
Robert: *is doing PT in the SDN gym while Flambae is working out*
Bobby: he looks like a Cirque du Soleil performer.
Robert: *snrk*
Bobby: specifically from when I was alive to see them. An 80’s Cirque performer. He’s got the face of an acrobat who is pining after one of the contortionists.
Robert: *covers his mouth*
Bobby: sadly, his affections are not returned. So until he can get laid, he hogs the squat rack so that one day he can bend far enough that he can fuck himself. You know, to impress the contortionist.
Robert: *shoulders shaking* GrAnDpA, pLeAsE
Flambae: bitch, you dying over there or what??
I think I enjoy two interpretations of Flambae’s dad the most:
1) All around, a good father whose only questionable parenting method is getting Chad into arson. But the ultimate conclusion can be interpreted as ‘you are what you are. And I love what you are.’
2) Angsty spin: Cool dad.
But cool and that’s it.
Personally, I don’t enjoy erasing the fact that Flambae had a good father.
I understand wanting to explore the possibilities and adding depth to his story. But I feel like that can be achieved without taking away the positive aspects of his life.
This is mostly ‘your father loves you more than anyone in the world. He’s also flawed in ways you aren’t ready to look at.’
That being said: If you asked Flambae if he had a good father, he’d say of course he did. His father is awesome. Always was, always will be.
He laughs like a car in overdrive and dresses like Ghost rider and a cocktail had an affair.
He has five dirty jokes in his gums, and an endearing wildness about him.
He thought Flambae how to cook with one hand and blow stuff up with the other. Thought him that he shouldn’t apologize for what he is.
And whenever he’s asked about Chad’s childhood, his dad always laughs, sunglasses glinting with a certain nervousness.
“Well, we raised eachother, really.”
Because the truth is: He wasn’t ready to be a dad. But he wasn’t ready to be alone, either.
If you asked Flambae, he would also say, cup to his lips and eyes a little downcast, as he and the team discuss childhoods for reasons he can’t quite grasp,
“He used to race all the time, before I was born. He was good at it, too. After my mom had me, he used to pour a little gasoline in his beer. I think it’s the only way he knew how to miss it.”
And if someone did try to tell Flambae that driving your father to the ER at 12, because a race ended badly isn’t ideal, he’d just shrug.
“Yeah, but he didn’t have to stay. Doesn’t that count?”
He’d say that he was loved.
And if someone, — maybe Robert, maybe Prism, maybe anyone on the Z team who can relate to him even a little, — would say “Yeah. But it sounds like you weren’t raised.”
He wouldn’t know how to debate that.
Honestly, thank goodness I was a little late to Dispatch... because I AM DROWNING! HELP!
I'm tempted to tag everyone who's been a culprit... but it might be too many of you! <3
Take your kid to work day
The family tradition, if there is one, is dying in that suit.
Song for this. (Truth by Alex Ebert)
Different color variations:
First potato sketches from matepad
and.... x)
Posted this on TikTok few days ago, so why not post here too 🤷 I've been lazy and haven't drawn much
I love Undertale's soundtrack
Something I really like about Dispatch is that no matter what choices you make, Robert’s characteristics remain. If you choose drop the guy in the first scene for example, Robert had already set up a mattress at the bottom for the guy to land on so he didn’t die. You are not changing Robert’s thought process, you are deciding what Robert does based on the thoughts he already had in his head. Robert is not a blank slate.
im tellin you, dawg, youre gonna love yung gravy.
(Other Outfitswaps: MechaPrism, MechaMal, MechaBlades, MechaBat, PhenomaMech, WaterMech, MechaPunch)
close up under the cut :)
The Robertson House Floor Plan
i.e: I painstakingly made an accurate as possible floor plan of Robert's childhood home using the literal crumbs we're given in game. Used what I could and bullshit the rest lmfao
Just wait until I get Paralives I am building the FUCK outa this and giving Robert the childhood he never had istg
Really happy with how this turned out! Tho I'm not an architect so I'm sure the measurements are completely whack lol
I know there's technically a shot of the back of the house in the comics but I'm electing to ignore that
Feel free to use! Creds would be appreciated but idrc
Robert and Coupé
To me all the Robertsons are bisexual, and yes, i mean all of them.
Born to write flambert
Forced to study for finals
This is a bit of a goofy one but-
Are you familiar with the game Trees Hate You? It's a rage game where you have to avoid trees beating the shit out of you lol
Could you write something where Robert, the master ragebaiter he is, gets Flambae, who canonically has beef with trees, to play this game
And Flambae nearly leaves to actually set a tree on fire in the process
Robert had been vibrating with barely contained excitement since lunch.
It all started during a conversation with Golem, who told him about a game he’d played recently — “You’d love this one. It’s insane. It’s gonna piss you off.”
He even showed Robert a short teaser: a tiny pixelated character getting violently hurled across the screen by what looked like a completely ordinary pine tree. Robert watched the clip closely, his eyes widening more with each second, until the realization hit him with radiant clarity:
Flambae needs to play this.
Robert spent the rest of the day just waiting for the perfect moment.
After dinner, he lingered nearby, listening carefully to the sounds coming from the kitchen. The second Flambae finished with the dishes, Robert called out:
“Babe?” he said loudly enough for Flambae to hear him from the kitchen.
“Yeah?” Flambae called back from the other room.
“Can you come here?”
Robert leaned back slightly in his swivel chair, facing the hallway that led to their makeshift office, wearing a mischievous grin he tried — and failed — to hide when he heard footsteps approaching.
“What?” Flambae asked, resting his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at Robert.
“Come in,” Robert said, a little too excited as he stood up and turned the chair toward Flambae. “Sit.”
Flambae glanced at the chair and raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”
Robert didn’t answer. He simply dragged the chair closer. Flambae huffed but walked over and sat down anyway.
Robert’s smile widened, then he quickly tried to contain it as he climbed into Flambae’s lap.
The game was already open and running. Robert had made sure of that, so Flambae wouldn’t even get a chance to read the title.
When Flambae looked at the screen and saw a tiny character standing beside what looked like a picnic blanket, he assumed it was one of those silly, cozy games Robert liked to play. It looked peaceful. Harmless.
“I’m not your personal chair so you can get comfy playing your stupid little games, bitch,” Flambae muttered, pretending to be annoyed as he adjusted Robert in his lap, one hand settling at his boyfriend’s waist.
Robert shook his head and gestured toward the keyboard with his chin. “You’re playing this one. I’m just watching.”
Flambae hesitated. He looked at the screen again. Then at Robert. Then back at the screen.
With a resigned sigh, he pulled the keyboard closer and pressed the keys to move the pixel character.
“Looks peaceful,” Flambae observed.
“Mhm.”
“What’s it called?”
“You’ll see.”
There was an obvious stone path to follow, so Flambae guided the character along it — until a tree suddenly swung its canopy down and smacked his character flat.
“What?” Flambae whispered.
On his lap, Robert was shaking with silent laughter, his grin already stretching from ear to ear.
“It’s just a tree. Try again,” Robert encouraged.
Flambae grumbled and restarted, only for his character to die in the exact same spot, taken out by the same tree.
“What the fuck is wrong with that stupid tree, Bob?” Flambae asked, turning to look at him.
Robert reached up and gently rubbed the back of Flambae’s neck. “Try dodging it and keep going.”
Reluctantly, Flambae did.
He restarted and avoided the murderous tree this time. Success. He was still alive.
The character climbed stairs, turned right, then forward along another stone path, when another innocent-looking tree pulled out a gun and shot him.
“What the hell?!” Flambae shouted at the screen.
Robert burst out laughing.
Flambae let out a dry, disbelieving laugh and tried to shove Robert off his lap. “I’m not playing this. This is stupid.”
“No, no, no,” Robert insisted, tightening his hold and refusing to move. “Keep going. I wanna see you finish it.”
Flambae stayed seated, but refused to hit restart.
So Robert restarted it for him. “I’ll help.”
Flambae accepted, mostly because he was apparently trapped by his own boyfriend.
Robert did help… sometimes. Mostly, though, he laughed while Flambae’s character got brutally murdered by trees over and over again.
Flambae grew increasingly irritated, but he was hooked now. Determined. Those smug, bark-covered bastards were not going to win. They weren’t better than him.
“Watch out for tha–” Robert tried to warn between fits of laughter that made his stomach ache.
“I SEE THE TREE, ROBERT!” Flambae snapped, shifting in the chair like it would somehow help. “Stupid fucking tree!”
A pine tree fell from the sky and crushed his character into the ground.
Flambae let out a high, outraged yell. “THIS IS RIDICULOUS!”
Robert lost it. He wasn’t even pretending to be polite anymore. His laughter was loud, breathless, and almost tearful.
“Baby, you gotta dodge–” Robert tried again once he recovered enough to speak.
“I AM DODGING!!!”
The game’s music remained serenely peaceful in the background while branches repeatedly slammed the tiny character into the dirt. Canopies crushed him alive. A ball of leaves launched him across the screen. Trees sprouted from underground just to kill him. Roots tripped him mid-run.
“I FUCKING HATE TREES!”
“I’M GONNA BURN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE FUCKERS!”
Flambae’s posture stiffened beneath Robert. His shoulders locked tight with tension. His jaw clenched. Every three steps, another bark-covered ambush slammed into him. Another violent collision of wood and pixel flesh.
Near the end, after painstakingly collecting a coin — with Robert’s help — Flambae inserted it into an arcade machine inside the game. Now he was playing a game within the game, desperately dodging the trees chasing him.
He got killed in the arcade. And outside it.
“That’s it! I’m out!” Flambae slammed his hands down on the desk. “I’m burning every tree and sapling I see in this city!”
Robert leaned in and kissed Flambae’s temple. “Come on, you’re at the last checkpoint.”
“No.” Flambae crossed his arms. “Those trees hate me.”
Robert’s eyes nearly sparkled at that. He laughed again, quieter this time, and let go of Flambae’s hair to pull the keyboard toward himself.
“Fine, fine. I’ll finish it,” Robert said, still deeply satisfied from all the laughter Flambae had given him.
Then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Robert finished the game in two minutes.
And then he replayed it in challenge mode. He beat it in eight.
“So a truck driving tree still kills you at the end?” Flambae mocked, arms still crossed, watching Robert beat the final boss. “Is there an angel tree too? This game is bullshit.”
Flambae remained deeply offended. His hatred of trees had been reignited with renewed intensity.
His rivalry with large plants had never felt so personal.
And the moment Robert wasn’t looking, Flambae fully intended to delete that game from the computer.