#notmyfuture

[sensesdialed-aa]

“ i’m going to handle this, leave it to me. ”

@notmyfuture​ // the path of a hero

   Peter wants to help. Ever since he started doing this whole thing, that’s ALL he wanted to do. Sure, he declined Mr. Stark’s offer to become an Avenger, said he wants to stick closer to the ground for a little while, and he does-- but when the situation arises, he doesn’t hesitate to help where he can. Which is why the moment he spots potential danger, he’s there, ready to do something. His heart beats fast in his chest, and he glances back and forth, before shaking his head. He hasn’t really spoken to Captain America ( it feels weird calling him Steve, even in Peter’s head ) all that much, but they did go back and forth during the airport fight, and Peter...well, he’s not really the best at listening to directions. 

  “Wait-- I can-- I can help out! I can help fight. Um-- no-- uh, no disrespect Captain America...sir, huge fan, you’re awesome, but you can’t just go fight all that alone. I-- uh, I can be backup! Or something...” 

[maskedheroics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐖’𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, the blast had sent her flying. She remembered that much, after that not so much. When would her memory cease being something unreliable?  The only thing that have her any peace, and preventing her from fighting against the hands that seemed to be taking her vitals as her consciousness slowly regained itself --- was the fact that she recognized Steve’s face standing vigil by her bedside. “ W-What happened ? ” she murmured, her eyes bleary. Squinting harshly at the light overhead, agitating what she recognized to be the tell tale signs of a concussion.

@notmyfuture / natasha romanoff starter

[powerduped]

@notmyfuture​

If Steve thought that Tao would agree to meet with him face to face, even in a public--though mostly empty--space like this, he’s sorely mistaken. Though, with Levi acting in his place, it’s impossible to tell that the original Song isn’t there. And that’s something Tao is more than willing to exploit as he watches the interaction unfurl from several floors up in the safety of his hotel room.

“So.” One long leg crosses over the other, and both of his arms spreading out over the back of the back of the hotel lounge sofa as he leans against the cushions. “What can I help you with today, my friend?”

A courteous smile pulls at the corners of his lips as one hand moves to gesture--open palmed--to the armchair sitting across from him.

“Please, sit. Can I get you anything to drink? I hear I can be quite troublesome to track down.”

[withlwolvesarchive]

@notmyfuture​ liked ( x ). 

           there are two things going through his head.  the first was that,  if he didn’t die in this stairwell,  his sister was going to kill him first.  the second was his own subconscious asking haven’t you been in enough danger for your entire life?  why throw this into the equation?  both things were easily ignored,  because the steps to him were getting closer,  and the hot red panic of ohshitohshitohshit was the only thing burning a press in his mind. 

           he’s got his hand on the door to the outside,  flings it open,  and runs right into someone else.  another one?  mark him as dead then.  “  shit  --  “

[keychangc]

@notmyfuture​

He’s the last one at the Lizard. They closed half an hour ago, and he’s been taking his time cleaning up, having given the rest of the staff the go-ahead to leave. Marcus has been doing this a lot lately. There’s something about the way the sound system echoes over empty booths and barstools that gives him and odd sense of peace.

The music of Dean Martin accompanies him as he works, the crooner’s voice filling the room with a smoky, velvety depth that Marcus compliments with his own clearer, brighter tone.

When he hears the door open, he doesn’t think twice about it. Doesn’t turn around until he’s finished the chorus of the ongoing song, and even then, it’s meant to be a brief dismissal; an intermission in his one-man show.

“Sorry, buddy. We’re closed,” he says, setting down his bucket of sanitizer water and wet rag. He approaches the stranger, squinting a bit to better see the man’s shadowed features as he wipes his hands on his waist apron. “You missed last call by about an hour.”

[unexceptional-broken]

( @notmyfuture​ ) « liked for a starter

               “I DON’T WANNA talk about it.” Her brother had just been shipped off... had just left. He’d spent his last night packing and, in an overly-enthusiastic tone, telling her all the things they’d do once he was done with his draft and could come home. I’ll be back before you know it, Becks. But come on — can’t I have a hug? 

Maybe it was the war on the radio, or the fact she’d already seen women at the studio — other artists’ secretaries and the like — receive telegrams that made them crumple over on the spot... maybe it was all of that, but she couldn’t unwind the pit in her stomach. 

She sat at the table, plate pushed to the side, a notepad in front of her with charcoal sitting next to it, but she couldn’t get herself to make anything. She pushed the pad away from her in disgust as well, schooling herself only enough to stop the dramatic sigh that wished to be unleashed. 

“Don’t even start.” 

[glacierfront]

@notmyfuture​

     “you’re like.”

     they’re at one of the great lakes somewhere, probably. just on the shore. water laps peacefully at the sand, and in some universe or another they have a motorhome that tony’s rigged up to become like twice its size. also julie has picked up steve’s shield and holds it close to herself, unthreatening and curious.

     “... super strong. right.”

[maskedheroics]

“ 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄. Last chance to add in to our order, we have decided to forgo the Asgardian and Hulk sized mountain of dishes and get take out. On me --- what’s your craving ? ” Tony called out as he spied Steve entering the the common area of the compound.

@notmyfuture / tony stark starter