bumbleboi

i also am not sure if this coat color is even possible, i was thinking its like a strawberry roan with overo/pinto white markings

The beauty traitor ও

I am once again begging people to realize that AI checker doesn’t work. it’s never worked. it’s notoriously known to have flagged human-made works as AI and AI-generated works as human-made. and by feeding it people’s works, you are feeding more works to AI, because apparently the machine itself is AI.

“𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐮𝐩…?”

a/n: i had this in my drafts for longer than a month, i think this ask was the sign i needed to post it...

thank you for reading as well!!! 🫶🏻

another glorious day in trash hell, and you’re knee-deep in debris, minding your business, when the ground starts vibrating. 

not from a trash beast. 

from delmon. 

“I’M JUST SAYING IF ANYONE GETS HURT BECAUSE WE WERE TOO SLOW I WILL ACTUALLY LOSE MY MIND– WE NEED EYES EVERYWHERE–” 

you wince. your soul folds in on itself like a cheap lawn chair. 

you glance over and– yep. there it is. 

tamsy has gone still. 

not annoyed-still. not tired-still. 

fuck my life still. 

delmon keeps going, arms flying, voice echoing off the walls. 

“AND I DON’T CARE IF IT’S AN OVERREACTION, I’D RATHER BE LOUD THAN SORRY–” 

tamsy finally turns, slow and deliberate. 

“delmon,” he says calmly, “do you ever get tired of hearing yourself.” 

delmon scoffs. “NO–” 

“cool,” tamsy cuts in smoothly. “then shut the fuck up.” 

dead silence. 

delmon stares like he’s been shot. “... WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME–” 

you pop up immediately. instinct. reflex. mediator mode on. 

“tamsy,” you say, flat, “shut up.” 

the way his head turns toward you is borderline cinematic. 

“shut MY bitch ass up…?” he repeats, genuinely offended. personally attacked. extremely confused. 

you nod. “yes. because you’re acting like this is new information.” 

delmon points at you aggressively. “THANK YOU! SOMEONE WITH SENSE–” 

tamsy opens his mouth, ready to defend himself, already loading sarcasm– 

and you tilt your head. 

“don’t you listen to heavy metal?” 

boom. gagged.  

tamsy freezes. 

you watch his brain short-circuit in real time. 

“how do you…” he says slowly. 

you gesture vaguely at him. “like. constantly. super loud. angry guitar. screaming. whitechapel. all of it. i can hear it from outside your room in the mornings.” 

delmon gasps because he’s just been handed ammo. “YOU MEAN THE NOISE MUSIC–” 

“IT’S NOT NOISE,” tamsy snaps automatically, then stops. 

because you’re staring at him. eyebrow raised. silent. 

the judgment is deafening. 

he opens his mouth. closes it. rubs his face. 

“… okay,” he mutters. “that’s different.” 

you cross your arms. “how.” 

“because i choose that noise.” 

delmon throws his hands up. “I’M EXPRESSING MY FEELINGS–” 

“AT 120 DECIBELS,” you shoot back. 

tamsy exhales, defeated, leaning back against a wall. “well…” he says, resigned, but still petty, “you know, that’s just like… your opinion, man.” 

you smile sweetly. “and my opinion is that you’re both loud.” 

delmon looks betrayed. “EVEN ME?” 

“especially you.” 

tamsy snorts before he can stop himself. immediately clamps his mouth shut when you look at him again. 

silenced. emotionally humbled. 

the three of you stand there for a beat. 

then delmon grins, bright and unapologetic. “I’LL TRY TO BE QUIETER.” 

he leans in and stage-whispers at full volume– 

“BUT IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO YOU—” 

“DON’T,” you and tamsy say together. 

delmon laughs. loud. of course. 

tamsy sighs, shaking his head. “… i hate it here.” 

you don’t. not really. 

because shutting up tamsy, nonchalant, strong, high tamsy, is so much fun. 

a/n: tamsy would listen to this song from MSI

contains MANGA SPOILERS btw!!! 

ac goes to gz6f788wxv on X

it happens in the briefing room, of all places – fluorescent lights humming, paperwork spread across the table, the air stale with dried coffee and old mission reports. tamsy caines is leaning back in his chair, boots kicked up where they don’t belong, mouth halfway through one of his easy, charming little asides. the kind that makes rookies laugh and makes supervisors sigh like here we go again. 

you don’t raise your voice. you don’t glare. you don’t even look mad. you just cut in. 

“you didn’t step in.” 

the room goes quiet so fast it’s almost funny. 

tamsy blinks once. then twice. his smile freezes, just a fraction too late. “didn’t step in when?” 

you finally look at him then. calm. flat. eyes sharp enough to shave with. “during the cleanup mission with rudo and follo. when they fought.” 

someone across the table shifts. a pen stops scratching. the silence thickens, sticky and uncomfortable. 

tamsy lets out a soft laugh, like this is cute. like you’re teasing him. “wow, didn’t know we were doing storytime. you weren’t even there.” 

“i know,” you say easily. “but i read the notes from tomme.” 

that does it. 

his chair comes down properly. his boots hit the floor. he’s still relaxed, still chalant, still that smooth, supportive presence everyone trusts, but something behind his eyes sharpens, curious now. alert. 

you keep going. you don’t rush. that’s the part that really silences him. 

“the report says you were close enough to intervene. multiple times. it also says you didn’t. you just… observed.” you tilt your head. “interesting choice, considering you had the power to stop it.” 

there it is. 

the room doesn’t hear it, but tamsy does – the soft click inside his skull. like a lock turning. 

no one talks to him like this. people joke around him, orbit him, trust him. they assume. they always assume. 

you don’t. 

he studies you now, really studies you, like you’re a puzzle he didn’t know he wanted until it bit him. 

“and?” he asks lightly. too lightly. 

“and,” you continue, unbothered, “you also have a pattern.” 

his eyebrow lifts. “do i?” 

“yeah. you watch rudo more than anyone else.” you tap the file once. “not protective. not worried. curious.” 

the word hangs there. 

curious. 

across the room, someone clears their throat. your boss doesn’t stop you. corvus just watches from the corner, arms crossed, eyes unreadable, like this was always meant to happen. 

tamsy doesn’t interrupt you again. 

and you can tell. 

inside, he’s spiraling. 

because you’re right. about all of it. 

he did watch when rudo and follo clashed – didn’t step in, didn’t break it up, just observed like it was data. like it was interesting. and rudo… rudo has always been interesting. sharp edges, raw potential, something ugly and beautiful all tangled together. 

and now you see it. 

worse – you said it out loud. 

after the meeting, he catches up to you in the hall like nothing happened, hands at his sides, expression easy. “you got guts,” he says, amused. “accusing a guy like that in public.” 

you don’t slow down. “wasn’t an accusation. it was an observation.” 

that almost makes him laugh. almost. 

he watches you walk away, brain buzzing, chest tight in a way he doesn’t recognize as attraction yet, but it is. god, it is. you’re competent. you’re sharp. you work hard. and somehow, without yelling or posturing or begging for authority, you shut him the hell up. 

no one’s ever done that before. 

that night, he can’t stop replaying it – your voice, steady and calm, the way you didn’t flinch when the room went cold. how you didn’t fear him once you realized something was off. 

most people back away when they corner him. 

but you leaned in. 

tamsy smiles to himself in the dark, fingers tapping against his knee, mind already chewing on you like a secret he’s decided to keep. 

yeah. 

he likes you. 

so much that he wants you to keep shutting him up. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

yeah i’m still writing for this man…

genre   suggestive , flirty , canon au

pairing   tamsy caines x cleaner! female reader

warnings   suggestive scenes , semi-established relationship , profanities , sexual tension , 3 scenarios

wordcount   1.5k / 1563 wc

a/n   finally wrote something for tamsyyy ! my sweet evil beloved angel >.<

𝜗ৎ - masterlist

૮ ․ ․ ྀིა : feedbacks and reblogs are much loved and appreciated ! thankyew !

You and Tamsy are quite known in the Cleaners as the ‘troublemaker couple’. No, you aren’t dating. You aren’t exactly friends either. But who cares about those things ? They just make no sense ! Are the sentiments that you share with him every time you make excuses when people ask what you guys are.

When there are open commissions, it’s usually the two of you who are sent there as a team. Sometimes, accompanied by one or two other cleaners. But most of the time, it’s just you and him.

Shit always goes down whenever you’re left with him.

The client wants a clean finish—Tamsy makes a mess. You complain. He talks back. You snap at him. You roll on an argument. A trash beast shows up. You two fight it. Still arguing though. But in the end, you get the job done, you manage to find a solution to the mess he made, a win’s a win. But you’re still mad at him. So, he ends up making it up to you by buying you your craving with a kiss on the cheek.

“Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“The dumplings saved you. Don’t be cocky.”

“I bought it.”

“Do I care ?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re lucky I think you’re hot.”

“Baby, I am hot.”

He only smirked. Lower lip caught between his teeth. Eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as he crossed his leg over the other. Poorly concealing your effect on him whenever you talked back like that and knew exactly what to say. Fuck, he’s so aroused.

“Tie me up ?”

“Fuck no. Are you crazy ?”

He’s not gonna beg, is he ?

“Please, baby ?”

Ah, hell.