Clint: You can't spell independent without dependent

Yelena: And you can't spell go fuck yourself without fuck you (kicks door open and leaves)

Kate: (watching her dreamily) she is so perfect

Clint: and you're a masochist

Kate: Yeah <3

Yelena: Don't walk around with your air a little insecure and confident as if it didn't cause things in me.

Kate: Okay, two-person huddle.

Yelena: You can't huddle with only two people. This is just a hug, Kate Bishop.

stewing on a bishova au (as always!)

- kate (10) and yelena (15) first meet as kids. kate is on a travel hockey league and yelena is a junior figure skater with the expectations of an olympic gold.

- it’s a chance meeting. kate is practicing for a big game she has over the weekend at the same rink yelena is using to practice for her next competition. kate is in day dream land (imagining herself scoring the winning shot) and nearly crashes into yelena. yelena easily evades her, and kate slides on her stomach, stopping just shy of yelena’s skates. she clumsily gets up to her feet (yelena does not help her) stuttering apologies.

- “americans,” yelena skates off, goes back to practicing. kate is impressed how yelena glides over the ice like she’s flying. kate starts trying to copy her movements, is clumsy at first but starts to get the hang of it. she thinks she can use this type of skating to her advantage in hockey - she would definitely be faster.

- yelena halts, catching onto kate’s mimicry, “what are you doing?” her accent is thick, kate can barely understand. she shrugs, unfazed by the hostility, “you’re fast.” “what, you think you can keep up?” yelena is smug. kate rises to the challenge, “wanna race?” they’re smiling at each other: yelena’s is thin, kate’s is wide and full of teeth. yelena beats her the first time. kate says it isn’t fair, peels out of her hockey gear and races again, they’re laughing chasing each other across the ice. melina arrives, stop them dead, tells yelena she could be injured and ruining her chances of qualifying. eleanor arrives just after, sorry she is late in picking up kate and reminding her she isn’t allowed to skate outside of her allotted time. kate slinks after mother, gives a tiny wave to yelena, “bye, ice princess.”

- yelena qualifies for the olympics, but she never makes it. she’s in a car accident with her sister, who is able to spin their car so that it’s natasha’s side of the vehicle that is smashed instead of yelena’s. natasha dies on impact while yelena is put into a medically-induced coma.

- when she finally wakes up, she feels like her body isn’t hers. it’s jarring. she has to relearn everything. she’s told she’ll never skate again. except it’s two years later and yelena is kissing the top of her sister’s grave before wandering down a winding path to a frozen lake. and she’s lacing her skates and stepping out on the ice. and she’s wobbly and trembling (from the cold, she tells herself) but she gets into a groove. she’s always pushing herself, and tries for an easy trick. can’t find herself in the landing and spills out on the ice. she smacks her hand, open palmed and uselessly, against it. she screams, bursting the winter birds from their roosts, her frustration turning to the hacking sobs of grief.

- but yelena is stubborn and doesn’t stop. she’ll never medal again, but she’ll be damned if she can’t skate. so for the next few years she pours her life back into the only thing that has ever stopped her racing mind. yelena decides to permanently live in nyc (it was her sister’s dream).

- the anger is still festering, a wound she keeps picking that will never heal right. she comes across a post looking for hockey players on a recreational league. thinks about the ice. thinks about the hot flare of hungry rage. thinks about the way she’s been robbed of her future. takes her vengeance on fate.

- yelena goes through the mandatory training and is picked up by a team in the league. she isn’t as fast or agile anymore. but she’s making a name for herself: she’s brutal and strong-handed. she cuts through the other teams with fist and fury. her team rises in the ranks.

- there’s another team in the league with stats that mirror theirs. they have some kind of pro that plays in the off season. yelena thinks they all bleed the same. when they go to face each other, yelena can’t get a read on the player. it’s usually easy to know what kind of hit will leave a mark, loosen just enough space to find a way to the goal. but this player skates in a way… yelena tries to go around, finds herself blocked, makes another attempt, blocked, pulls back and shoves against this insufferable, arrogant pro: “what are you doing?” another block, followed by a toothy grin: “ice princess?” yelena finds the space in that question, fires the puck and relishes in the sound of the celebratory airhorn. her eyes though find her opponent’s lit up, she sees a bubble of word vomit practically bursting at the seams. but it’ll have to wait, yelena has a game to finish.

kate comes home one day only to find yelena fully clothed in the shower with the dogs blaring my chemical romance looking distraught as yelena whispers to kate that yelenas favourite mac n cheese has been discontinued so kate joins her in the shower in solidarity

Oh, Yelena got a haircut 😳

Y/N: I don’t even flirt that much.

Yelena: Oh really? *stands up* Raise your hands if you think you’re dating Y/N.

Natasha: *raises hand*

Wanda: *raises hand*

Shuri: *raises hand*

Kate: *raises hand*

Yelena, side eyeing violently: Kate Bishop, what was that?

HAWKEYE (2021) dir. Bert & Bertie

a kiss is not supposed to actually heal wounds, kate bishop.. or does it!

👇🏻

Nat: Oh, Kate is coming, do you mind if I slyly mention that you're single?

Yelena: Do not do that

Nat: C'mon, you won't even notice

Yelena: Urgh, fine

Kate, entering: Hey guys!

Nat: Yelena's single

“No, I'm going to save you”

Kate: (after getting nagged at by Yelena) God, you sound like my wife.

Yelena: I AM YOUR WIFE.

Why is every mainstream wlw ship this:

Of course Kate throws her arms around Yelena, hugs her to the bone. It makes her feel small: like she can taste the first burst of summer strawberry; like she’s waking up on Christmas morning in Ohio; like she’s wading barefoot in a clear stream on a sunny day. It makes her feel like a child.

It puts a fissure in her carefully constructed floodgates.

Yelena doesn’t know how to say that Kate needs the wingspan of a seabird to hold her safely at the distance she desires. She doesn’t know how to say that a frigatebird has the highest ratio of wing to body, but that wouldn’t even be enough. She doesn’t know how to say a hawk definitely does not. That Kate’s arms could never bear the gap Yelena so desperately needs.

How can she say she has kept her entire life at the disposal of someone else, that she does not know to keep herself and Kate? How can she translate the tangle of grief and anger that snares around her throat? How can she say she would rather chew through her own bone than be trapped again?

Except, Kate’s arms don’t always feel like a cage. Sometimes, and Yelena hates this, sometimes they feel like a bed. And what is that feeling but a lure? Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. How long until the reality check that none of this is real? Isn’t joy just a ruse?

Kate will never hold Yelena at the distance she desires. She is a thorn that digs into flesh, she is a burr that carries the seeds of a new life. A promise of something Yelena has to be brave enough to tend to. She can’t. Not yet.

It’s a good thing Kate is heavy handed. She isn’t patient, but she is stubborn. And maybe one day Yelena can say all the things that evade her. Until then, Kate Bishop squeezes the life out of her and gives that stupid toothy grin because this time, Yelena didn’t immediately duck out of the embrace. That’s something, right?