𝖋𝖎𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖊𝖉 ⊚ a roleplay blog for 616 kate bishop, aka hawkeye. independent, mutuals only, sporadic activity, crossover + oc friendly.
carrd ➳ prompts ➳ sideblog
blog roll: @kataireo / @paigeangel, @bloodpinning, @stviolentine

JVL
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styofa doing anything
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
AnasAbdin

izzy's playlists!
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almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Andulka

PR's Tumblrdome
ojovivo
dirt enthusiast

titsay
Today's Document
i don't do bad sauce passes
YOU ARE THE REASON

if i look back, i am lost
RMH
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@fianchettoed
𝖋𝖎𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖊𝖉 ⊚ a roleplay blog for 616 kate bishop, aka hawkeye. independent, mutuals only, sporadic activity, crossover + oc friendly.
carrd ➳ prompts ➳ sideblog
blog roll: @kataireo / @paigeangel, @bloodpinning, @stviolentine
@fianchettoed liked | not accepting
He's been sneakily approaching Kate's desk while he talked. He doesn't know if she has a reason to be here or if she just decided to hang out, but the fact of the matter is she's been eating a bag of chips for the past ten minutes and it's driving him up a wall.
Luckily, most students were looking down, taking notes on their laptops or notebooks to notice it as Matt snatched the chips bag away and shot Kate a dirty look.
The look on her face is like she's been slapped. This fucking guy, she thinks — Kate still remembers being a fresh face on the hero-ing scene, getting arrested during that little spat between Iron Man and Captain America, and who had been among the group that intercepted their paddy wagon? Ole Hornhead ... and to think he's such a tyrant in the classroom. Never meet your heroes.
Kate scoffs, mostly silent, and whispers a scarcely perceptible, "Rude!" If anyone happened to look up, she'd absolutely just look like a spoiled brat making faces at her blind professor.
"There's only one vending machine on campus that has those chips!" She makes a slight attempt to remain surreptitious by covering her mouth, but there's only so much arguing she can really do like this. Oh well. With a click of her pen, she settles in to focus on some note-taking. Wait — click. Kate smirks. Clickclickclick.
➽ unusual muse associations
spice : black garlic weather event / natural disaster : nor'easter colour : crayola's "wisteria" plant : tradescantia cerinthoides, nanouk cultivar animal : peregrine falcon or harris's hawk weapon : recurve bow subject / major : geometry gemstone / mineral : tanzanite make-up product : mascara candy : jolly ranchers fear : fear of getting lost? but like, "i've lost my way" lost, not "where the fuck am i" lost method of long-distance travel : car art style : beaux-arts architecture historical period : golden age hollywood mythological creature : some kind of aos sí maybe, but idk which celestial body : binary star romcom archetype : cool girl? tough cookie? idk man, i've seen very few romcoms
tagged by: @pureid thank youuu <3 tagging: everyone who wants to do it :) tag me!!
"Oh..." Laura blinks just once. Even beneath her flat tone, a joke is clearly hiding: "So you don't like Madonna then?"
"Laura--" It's immediately evident in the way Kate's voice pitches up an octave that this development has her stressed.
"Madonna's different! I meant current pop nonsense, c'mon." A pause. "Seriously, you cannot go around telling people I don't like Madonna."
where is kate? a little blog roll update / reminder, now that my pinned posts are mostly up to date.
active
@kataireo / @paigeangel karen page, netflix based + a 616 side blog @fianchettoed you are here <3 @bloodpinning mixed media multimuse. the canons are comics / comic media based, and the ocs are what make it mixed media.
not currently active, but not abandoned
@stviolentine jill valentine, resident evil @muckraccer alyssa ashcroft, resident evil @killitwithyou a multimuse for zombie apocalypse ocs. kind of abandoned ngl, unless someone kicks my butt to play dollies over there.
The Breakfast Club (1985) dir. John Hughes
➽ @decthbringer says ; that's a hell of a statement.
Turning, she regards Elektra thoughtfully over plum-tinted lenses. True enough that Kate often walks the line between confidence and arrogance, but she's not in the habit of making unearned assertions. "Maybe." A shrug. "I'm a hell of a fighter."
"Look, I'm not saying I'd be better than you -- but give me a weekend, and I could work sai into my kit. After a month I'd probably be able to embarrass people who've been training with 'em for years." She flips the shades to the top of her head, dragging a spray of dark fringe off her forehead with them. "I'm a quick learner. Aside from the bow-and-arrow shtick, that's kinda what I do."
➽ @madamasque says ; Oh, you again. How many times do I have to tell you that purple really isn’t your colour?
"Crazy to say when you're still running around dressed like that. I mean what was the inspiration, Dr. Doom if he served cunt? Talk about trite." A severe little notch had been chiseled between her brows the moment she clocked the other, but now it smooths out a touch as the corner of her mouth twitches upward in amusement. Let the record show that a Kate zinger is for Kate before it's for anyone else.
"Purple isn't your color either, so don't get any ideas." Of course now, inconveniently, she's remembering the time they met poolside at a hotel — and trying very hard not to think about the bikini, or the lunch date with a stunning woman. Get out get out get out. "What are you doing here, anyway? Didn't anyone tell you it's creepy as hell to follow around a lady half your age?" Yeah, that'll show her.
❛ has anyone ever told you that you sound like LAURA sometimes ? what were you expecting ? tight black dresses and cocktails until the sun rises ? THERE'S STILL TIME FOR THAT LATER [ ... ] now do you want to drive or do you want me to drive ? and ignore whatever lie barton told you. i know how to drive. ❜
"Laura?" She half-laughs, half-scoffs at that. "Well... Laura's cool as hell, so I'll take it." Kate should be playing lookout, but the opportunity to watch a bonafide super spy hotwire a car proves too enticing. She may as well be stanced up like a kid holding a flashlight while their dad works on something and yells at them — and she's right where she wants to be.
"...You drive." A smile, then she's clambering into their newly-acquired chariot. "And for the record, I wasn't complaining! Cocktails are fun, at-home mani pedis are fun... but this is more my speed."
" my dog. " he repeats it for effect, thumb hanging back toward his chest. " you know, the one you dog-napped & took on a california joy ride? " his shaggy wheat thatch of hair cowlicks up under a haphazard rumple from his knuckles. the coffee pot spits & hisses, simmering in its overdonenenss. clint snatches it up off the burner & gulps, spluttering a mouthful as it sears its way down. " west coast hawkeye, " muses before he swishes another sip of coffee around in the mull of his cheek.
" i dunno, " confessed, deflating to let his shoulders back up against the cabinets. " i was kinda banking that you'd run off with him again, kate 'n barrel. "
"Our dog." She doesn't waste too much energy on the counter-correction — still, it's very much slipped in between Clint's remarks. Kate shrugs, as if rendering that whole chapter water off a duck's back. Nope, no need to rehash all that. "Hey, c'mon, I never pick him up without an announcement."
"Shit... that means this is pretty serious." Feet get to pacing. It all seems very natural, despite being put-on. With a little sleight of hand it almost seems like she just picked up the creased paper she's holding from the ground near his door. "Wait, what's this? Oh my god, look." Free hand rises, shielding her mouth as she gasps. "It's a letter from Lucky."
Holding it up for Clint to see, totally-not-Kate has written in a messy scrawl ; RAИ AWAY SINTS U DONT KARE ☹
the thought of kate wearing a fedora and trench coat over the hawkeye suit while doing detective shit... stetson and duster Also over the hawkeye suit in cowboy mode
"What do I got to be jealous of? Earth's moon is small! And stupid. There's nothing to do there." Not that he's looked into it. She's right about one thing: he is an alien. He has a lot more of the galaxy at his fingertips than she does.
"More importantly—who's taking selfies on the moon? Your phone work in space? Terran tech is not that advanced! Maybe you do got a photo, but I betcha it's staged." The alien doth protest too much.
"Okay hold on, our moon is very beautiful so watch your mouth. And I actually watched a concert while I was visiting, so there." An onlooker might almost believe Kate's sincerely offended by this, but up close she's clearly only half-trying to hide the amusement on her face.
A scoff — "I'm taking selfies on the moon-- Staged?! Ciel. You don't need cell service for the camera part of the phone to work. I don't even know how to use Photoshop! Oh my god, you're actually jealous, aren't you? Aw buddy... do you want me to call in a favor and organize a little moon visit?" Oh, she's having entirely too much fun with this.
➽ one-liner for @pureid
"No, wait, that zing sucked -- and I don't like stuff that sucks."
➽ one-liner for @duckpi
"Private investigation 101 -- Know your hood, know your limits, stay in your lane. But once in a while a case comes along that makes you bend the rules."
"Sokthma? Garbage. 'Cause I'm calling bullshit. There's a lot I'm ready to believe, but even I got limits."
"Oh, please. You're an alien--" at least she has the good sense to lower her voice a little, despite the offense, "--but it's weird to you that I've been to the moon? Why is that so unbelievable?"
"I mean yeah, the circumstances were pretty unique, I'm not an astronaut or anything. But I have been to the moon, I literally have a picture of it. Somewhere. Wait a minute... oh my god, are you jealous?"
huntress nods, following hawkeye’s lead and words perfectly fine for the most part until — that. “what?”
the vigilante stops in her tracks, stands tall and still as she often does, refusing to let the bow-toter get away with this one.
“no, bishop. we cannot. it’s too late for that. i’m cruel and have the memory of a petty crow. i’m never letting you hear the end of this,” though her arms are folded over her armoured chest and her delivery remains deadpan as always, the english teacher in her finds this loose thread too amusing to not poke at it. “what do you mean dinosaurs?”
Aw, hell — she's done it now. To be honest, Kate doubted the validity of the reference the second it left her mouth, but present company doesn't need to know that. Say things confidently, she reminds herself, and people tend to believe it.
"Well, because some dinosaurs had two brains. So I was saying my fingers had their own brains, and that's why I'm quick to shoot off arrows -- 'cause they think on their own. I said it was a failed metaphor." She raises her brows toward the other with faux-attitude, the way a bratty teenager does in lieu of outwardly saying duh. A petty crow, huh? "Does my discussion question response satisfy, Ms. Bird-inelli?"