BLOODLINES @toussaiint - Tumblr Blog

#TOUSSAIINT a private and indie original character as created by VESSEL ( 21+ he/him. ). fandomless and mutuals only. low activity. 21+ only.

i. ( MEMES ) ii. ( ABOUT ) iii. ( VERSES )

answering . . . @macabrehunter ( Kade Vire ) [ DAYS OF WINTER ] ❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜

The bite of winter always did hit like a bitch, but that was nothing new. It just made Keegan's job a little easier, with everyone bundled up with one too many layers, to really feel a wallet or phone drop . And, sure, heists were a little riskier with the homebody crowd, but few locals rarely knew how to, let alone had the confidence to drive like a bat out of hell with a layer of white on the ground. Even far from home though? Keegan knows better than to trust that that kind of warning was some extension of southern hospitality . . .

Spun around on the ball of a booted heel. A glimpse spared over the broad of his shoulder to eye the source of the voice up and down ( ... ) nope, not a lick of recognition reflected in the bright of the thief's eyes. Hands shoving idly into his pockets ( thumbing the release of his pocket knife in one hand and phone in the other ). A bright smile flashed, a little too toothy, as he shrugged. Snowflakes dancing around him, kissing the strawberry blond of long lashes. "All good. This is barely what I'd call real snowfall anyways." If it wasn't a few feet? It wasn't shit. One step back. "'Appreciate it though, man." Then another.

#macabrehunter #( he's in danger isn't he - )

answering . . . @broarrow ( Clint Barton ) [ sms: Sticky Fingers ] miss your hands [ sms: Sticky Fingers ] and your mouth

[ sms. baby blue ( 11:47 delivered ✓ ) ] Here I thought this was gonna be another job opportunity. [ sms. baby blue ( 11:49 delivered ✓ ) ] Don't gotta miss me long, baby blue. [ sms. baby blue ( 11:50 delivered ✓ ) ] Send your location?

#broarrow

WHAT TYPE OF LONELY ARE YOU?

LONELINESS BORN OF INADEQUACY.

you've never been as good as your peers, this was made abundantly clear to you at a young age. they hate you for being lesser than them. you don't know what you do wrong, maybe it's not even your actions anymore. it's just you, you're just wrong. you've learned to blend into the shadows. don't speak unless spoken to. don't get excited. don't show your emotions at all, actually. no one cares.

tagged by: @yoursdndispatcher ( thank you! ) tagging: steal it!

#( yeaaaaah he buries this shit 6' deep thanks )#dash games ┆ character inspo ( russian roulette )

yoursdndispatcher

toussaiint asked: " how do you really feel about your father? " ( x )

@toussaiint

“Oh, we’re getting deep into it, now. Better q- what makes you so inquisitive? My guess, is that you dropped out early if it hasn’t been beaten out of you by the education system.”

toussaiint

More than a little SHAMELESS as he swung a chair closer ( ... ) arms folding over the back as he dropped down with brows raised. "Yeah -- I did, actually." A nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Searching Robert's gaze to gauge his reaction ( had he meant it? or was there a lick of regret to be found? ). "Thought I'd follow in my father's footsteps and see what the big deal was about the bottom of the bottle. Blow all that hard-lifted cash on easy shit ."

#yoursdndispatcher #( wow calling him out huh Robert? he deserves it lbh )

Clint Barton and Keegan Toussaint @broarrow / @toussaiint

#broarrow #( slaps this against your window and stares at )

cr0wbarred-arch

He's been watching this guy for a while. Couple jobs here and there, but no one has been able to get their hands on him. Then again, the Red Hood isn't just anyone. He prides himself on this shit. When the bullet hits close to the man's feet, Jason holds back the snort in his reaction, tilting his head at the response while amusement is hidden behind his mask as is his grin. "Read all my books. BDSM group isn't for anotha' two days. I had time," he hums as he drops downs. "Lotta money ya got there, pal. Wanna tell me what's it for?"

toussaiint

Bouncing on the balls of his feet as he buys time keeping the freak talking ( weighing his options . . . sweet talk? run? bribery? honeypot? ). He's heard of him, of course. The Red Hood. Not exactly known for taking it easy . "Y'know, I think I see why people don't like Jersey folks." Turning full stop to avoid leaving himself any further exposed to the hero as he tried taking a few steps back. careful to keep out of arms reach. "Does that usually work for you, man? The direct approach?" Hands held up like he was ready to surrender ( fat, fucking chance ).

#cr0wbarred #( [belated] merry chrysler ]

Greek Love Type

BAD AGAPE.

All agape types are organized around bestowal and attuned to instinct and inspiration. Agape types are spontaneous and mythopoetic lovers who charm others by making them the recipients of a free-spirited and joyous bestowal that escapes all conventional means of appraisal and evaluation and which is itself without limits. Agape is truly a love which freely gives and forgives, and which precedes the rational, confounding it, and charms less inspired natures to relinquish their everyday sensibility in order to play along to the joyful tune of its carnival. As a love, agape is truly "that good which has no end and is its own measure" and for which every conventional standard of value is too small a receptacle for the joys that it has to offer. As for bad agape, it is a fine line between HERO and FOOL; charming and obnoxious; alpha and tryhard, and in love relations and social affairs, you find yourself walking that line more often than you would like. In your attempts to be the maverick, you have a tendency to transplant behaviors, idioms, and memes that you have witnessed the fortuitous use of elsewhere, but without the cognitive resources to adapt them to the specific situation. Hence, your straightforwardness and gregarious behavior may often be found wanting in charm. Like all agape types, you operate off a primordial combination of instinct and naivete, yet in your case, having not had a sufficient supply of joyous responses from the world, you yourself lack the joy that your attention-grabbing behavior would seek to bestow upon others. Your journey towards good agape will be excessively difficult (indeed the most difficult of all the treks from good to bad variants of the Greek loves). But it most likely involves a change of social circle – new friends, co-workers, or a new significant other – who will be less judgmental and more sincerely appreciative of the maverick qualities that you do have to offer. From the forgiving bedrock of a more lenient social circle, you will most likely be able to relax more and to let go of the contrivance and unease that is the source of many of your more obnoxious behaviors. Famous Greeks who have Agape: Homer, Diogenes the Dog. Your ideal partner is someone who has Nomos.

tagged by: @yoursdndispatcher ( thank you! ) tagging: @broarrow, @cr0wbarred, @bloombled ( kurama ), @lapinoires, and whoever'd like to !

#dash games ┆ character inspo ( russian roulette )#( well this ... was accurate lmfao )

drop this sunflower🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy ! lets spread a little sunshine☀️

ooc. Thank you so much! It's always good to see you on the dash. You've been an absolute pleasure to write with and I can't wait to continue to see what shenanigans lay ahead of us!

#yoursdndispatcher #ooc ┆ maintenance ( second rule )

drop this sunflower🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy ! lets spread a little sunshine☀️

ooc. Chews on you like a favorite cat toy uwu . Thank you, babe and I look forward to further terrorizing you <3 !

#ooc ┆ maintenance ( second rule )

ooc. My work schedule's weird thanks to the holidays, so replies will be coming a little late this week. In the meantime, like this for me to raid your inbox with memes (multis please specify muse)?

#( consider yourself warned that I will meme spam you if you give me permission to lmfao )#( no pressure ofc to ever respond to them all but I enjoy having options and stuff to hoard so yeet )#( rattles the bars of my cage. I want to be on here )#ooc ┆ maintenance ( second rule )

COGNITIVE ASSESSMENT.

bold = always.　italics = sometimes/dependent.　crossed out = in the past.

alcoholism.　amnesia.　anxiety.　appetite loss.　binge eating.　codependence.　cynicism.　defensiveness.　denial.　depersonalisation.　depression.　derealisation.　devaluation.　displacement.　dissociation.　drug abuse.　dysphoria.　emotional detachment.　flashbacks.　flat affect.　guilt.　hallucinations.　hypersomnia.　hypervigilance.　hypochondria.　idealisation.　insomnia.　intellectualisation.　introjection.　isolation.　low self—esteem.　mania.　narcissism.　night terrors.　obsessive compulsion.　overeating.　panic attacks.　passive aggression.　paranoia.　phobias.　projection.　psychosis.　rationalisation.　regression.　repression.　restrictive eating.　self-harm.　somatization.　splitting.　sublimation.　suicidal ideation.　sleepwalking.　suppression.　thousand-yard stare.　triggers.　trust issues.　violence.　whiplash temper.

tagged by: @cr0wbarred <3 tagging: if you're wearing socks you're now obligated to do it

#headcanons ┆ character inspo ( who you think i am )

tvinspo

CULPA MIA (2023)

#( merry crisis. slaps this on the dash. this is the brand of red flag Keegan is )#tw suggestive #bonds ┆ ship inspo ( if you're brave enough )

broarrow

Keegan kisses him sweet and Clint doesn't pull away. That's the first telltale sign he's in too deep. For a guy who's spent half his life braced for impact, one hand near an escape route, eyes on the door, he stays. He lets Keegan keep that hand along the back of his neck, lets himself be drawn into the smaller instead of calculating the cost of this. Having someone close again, the possibility of loss. Clint's hands come up slow, uncertain at first and he cups Keegan's face between them.

The kiss steals the air from him in a way that has nothing to do with want and everything to do with need and being seen. It lacks the dirty kinda hunger he usually kisses with, replaced with something resembling longing. His breath hitches in a sound he can't quite hold back, a little whimper that tears forth. Clint's eyes drift close, forehead bunting to Keegan's when they part. "M'not good at this, y'know. The .. the more." His says it quietly, thumbs brushing the curves of his cheeks, face cradled between calloused hands. Keegan's own travel and he leans into him, pressing close. Space between them lost entirely.

Show it. Yeah, that's the hard part. Showing the want rather than the filthy need he uses to hide the most tender parts of himself. Fear of letting someone in again nips at his pulse and Clint's jaw twinges with the brief clench of teeth. (He's a little stressed about this flash of emotion.)

Their noses brush, breathing the same warm air. Bravado dropped, truth laid at the thief's feet (easy for the taking). "Yea- you mean somethin' to me." He presses his forehead to Keegan's with a bit more pressure, brows furrowing. "Want you, Key." breathed low. And then Clint kisses him again, gentle. Less hunger and more intention. Tongue ring swiping slow, licking into the heat of his mouth, head cradled between his hands.

"Lemme show you, yea?" And his hands drop to Keegan's hips, guiding him backward slowly toward the island of his kitchen counter.

toussaiint

Avengers don't have friends. It's a sentiment the thief had not heard for a first, let alone a last, time since he'd been caught up in Clint's gravitational pull. Disapproval an old friend of the thief ( if it didn't work coming from his mother? it sure as fuck wouldn't work from total strangers ). Sounds like an excuse to keep him all to yourself. A smug smile accompanying the brazen retaliation — too toothy to be entirely friendly, closer kin to an old dog's flash of canines alongside a possessive snarl — having been his answer.

What a shame Keegan never did learn how to play fair . . . let alone share .

"'Don't need you to be anything, but you." Leaning in to deepen the kiss. Tongue meeting pierced with equal enthusiasm. Warmth blooming beneath Clint's open palms. Sea-glass grays softening around the edges as they fell half lidded. Drinking in the hero's pretty little noises. His worries and woes. His matched hunger. "Want you too, bluebird." Moaned into his mouth as he was guided back. Measured steps taken until his back bumps the counter and Clint lifts him like little more than a bag of fucking grapes.

He'd always heard that you were supposed to be able to laugh with the people you fucked. He'd never much cared for the sappy sentiment, but -- in the moment? He could see the appeal as he leaned back into Clint's heat. The tender touches of the archer's calloused hands. Desire pulled taut between dexterous fingers like a bowstring ready to snap. He never did miss. His own hands slipping beneath the blond's shirt and tearing it off him with a greed that spoke leagues. Lips trailing the shell of his ear. "Is fucking me on the counter your way of show, don't tell?" Purred pretty and, sure, maybe just a lil bit taunting.

#broarrow #( I stand by you napping instead. you needed it )#( I forgot but I'll do it again watch )#( lizard blinks )

It might be his first day in L.A., but that didn't mean he hadn't done his due diligence . Afterall, walking headfirst into the lion's den? That was just another Thursday evening. But, said lions were usually a little more, well . . . domesticated. Lazy cop house cats failing to catch anything more than the occasional speedster. Stray private investigators sticking their noses into family affairs and just as easily swayed by a donut and cup of joe as their cushy cousins. Here, though? This was where the big cats played. Heroes. Villains. Black and white morality dressed up with a cute lil bowtie and fluttering cape to boot.

So, to say that their little run in was entirely coincidental? Well. Maybe that was a little too picture perfect to not call BULLSHIT.

A low grunt as their shoulders collide . Making a show of tripping up and over the dispatcher. "Shit - !" A little rouse to justify the graze against his ass in a bid for his wallet. "My bad, man." Straightening to offer up a slip of paper he pretends to collect off the pavement ( ... ) brows furrowing as he considers it a moment before offering it out instead. "You drop this?"

@yoursdndispatcher ( Robert Robertson ). . . caught the thief !

#yoursdndispatcher #( hey! hope this works? and completely up to you how poorly/well Kegs is at the attempted pickpocket )#( I'm all for Robert spotting that shit from 100m off lmao )

They'd been little more than passerby's to the local town's bar. Boisterous on the best of nights and lit up by cop cars for the umpteenth bar fight that week at its worst. Nothing Keegan had ever bothered to entertain. Nothing the thief ever wanted a part of . . . until tonight. Clint and his little night time stroll suddenly interrupted as the sound of a woman's protests caught his attention. Quiet, subtle beneath the steady pulse of the outside speakers' music and the overall chatter, but it was the sight that drew him in too deep.

The colours blur into a familiar smear of auburn hair and brown eyes ( ... ) then everything is red . Light on his feet and faster than most — even the hero types — gave him credit for. At Clint's side one moment and then gone the next.

The frat boy hardly taking notice until it was too late and Keegan stepped between him and his apparent target. ( All Keegan sees is Addison - in every girl he's ever tried [and failed] to save. ) He doesn't lay hands on him. No. Instead snatching up the nearest bottle of booze and promptly smashing it against the table. Glass shattering catching the eyes and ears of anyone and everyone. The sight of him raising the jagged end of that very same bottle up to the drunk's chest like a promise? Well, that garnered far worse for the both of them. "She said: no." Gaze a touch wild and voice steeped with an anger unbefitting a total stranger.

@broarrow ( Clint Barton ) . . . caught the thief !

#broarrow #( Clint go get your mans )

The shot rang LOUD in the otherwise quiet of the parking deck . . . hackles raised as the thief whipped around with a snarl . "Hey - !?" Arm shot outward, openly accusatory, towards the impact zone before him ( as if he had any right to complain ). "I'm walkin' 'ere!" Faux New York accent played up thick in the face of the Red Hood's Jersey one. "Really though man, don't you have anything better to do? Your -" hand gesturing up and down at his getup, "BDSM group doesn't need you for - I don't know . . . something - ?"

@cr0wbarred ( Jason Todd ) . . . caught the thief !

#cr0wbarred #( going off our disco discussion uwu )

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