[ “I’m surprised you’re conscious right now.” | @ofthemysticarts ]
he supposes he could understand where stephen strange was coming from. it’s only been a short time since they arrived in planet doom and harry’s already being tested to the bone. not only did he not have access to his money anymore (at least until this floating rock would find itself back on earth), he had to work for his money. sure, his charms were up to a hundred percent and he’s getting quite the tips from patrons, but jesus it was tiring. “still pulling through,” he mentioned instead, his notepad already in his hand. “anything i can get you from the bar?”
[ “This looks too official considering the nonsense within.” | @ofthemysticarts ]
he couldn’t do anything but let out a defeated sigh. reed knew the moment they came back and realised they were on latveria—sorry, planet doom—that they were going to be drowning in von doom’s narcissism. lo and behold, he called himself the supreme overlord. pathetic. “you haven’t seen the half of it,” reed replied as he read the weekly gazette of the supreme overlord, the document bearing the official seal of von doom. “his ego knows no bounds, i’m afraid.”
mallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?
Juice pops and mac and cheese for Morgan, strawberries for Pepper (oops), hamburgers for Happy, coffee and college dorms for Rhodey, space ships, old books, old creepy houses and that sparkly buzzy noises the portals made for Stephen.
chartreuse: if you had to describe your muse with a color, what color would it be and why?
Answered here!
new leaf: what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?
To college going Tony:
Look, kid, life isn’t as shitty as you think it is. I know you think nothing’s ever going to improve, but you also think that if you try hard enough, you’ll be able to impress pops. See that contradiction right there?
Thing is, you gotta start living for yourself. And I don’t mean in the getting drunk and getting high way, though chances are you’ll do that anyway (don’t, it’s a bad idea -- well, can’t really change the past, can I?). Anyway, quit that as soon as you can, it rots your brain, and your brain’s really the thing that’s going to get you out of that vicious cycle of self loathing and over compensation.
Stop caring so much about what other people think of you and what they want you to do. Sure, I know you feel like you’re starving for affection so badly that it eats you up from the inside. Sure, I know you still hope somehow that if you hit upon the right formula, you’ll get dear old dad to acknowledge that you’re not a moron and maybe he’ll start treating you right.
Here’s a spoiler: he doesn’t.
Here’s another spoiler: impressing people isn’t going to win you real friends.
And here’s a third spoiler: you’re going to succeed. Of course you are. You’re all set up for it. You have the smarts, but more importantly, you have the privilege. You have all the resources, all the education, all the platform you’re ever going to need to be CEO of Stark Industries. You’ll make it big, you’ll out-do dad big time, you’ll be the most successful person on the planet, you’ll be surrounded by adoring fans, you’ll have someone in your bed every night -- and that’s all going to happen earlier than you think it is.
And believe me, you’re going to hate it.
Because you’re cursed. Some asshole once said I was cursed with knowledge, but I think we’re just cursed with overthinking. Sure, it’ll be fun for a while, and then you’ll recognise that people fawning over you is as bad as dad ignoring you and mom not really being there.
Then you’ll realise that it’s actually worse.
First, you can’t tell who’s your real friends any more. Then you’ll want to give it up, because you know it’s all fake, that you’re literally buying friendship. You’ll know that they’d give it up, give you up, toss you under the bus once the goods and the money stop flowing. But you’re still desperate, and some kind of friendship is better than none at all, right? Surely somewhere below that core of superficiality, someone must be at least a little bit fond of you: you’re a good guy, you’re funny, you’re nice to be around, you give people stuff all the time, you do them little favours, hell, you do them big favours, hey, that’s gotta count for something, right?
Wrong.
But like crack, you’re addicted to it, because it’s so damn close to real happiness, it’s so damn close to real friendship, and you think - maybe if I try a bit harder, maybe if I hit the right formula, maybe if you say the right thing -- maybe you’ll be able to win them over.
Sound familiar? That’s the same old shitty cycle that you’re stuck in with dad right now, and that’s going on rinse and repeat. Over and over and over again. (Find a therapist. A good one. They’ll point that bullshit out to you faster than you can blink.)
I don’t really know how to advise you, because you’ll have to learn these things for yourself, and hell, I’m not sure what writing a note to the past will do. Cos if your road diverges from mine, you won’t really be me any more, will you?
But anyway.
If this note has a point, and if there’s a chance to do over and do better, if there’s a way to help you avoid some of the big shitty mistakes that I made -- I’d say again:
Start living for yourself, kid. Start living for your own dreams. You know which ones. Not the private jet, not the partying every night -- the real ones. The ones you’ve buried deep in your heart because A Certain Someone told you that idealism is dead. (Stop listening to him.)
Because here’s the thing - and it’s funny, isn’t it? That when you stop trying to please people and start being yourself (and not the ‘self’ that dad’s taught you how to be, not all that bullshit about being the polished, perfect, charismatic businessman - because that’s not you, and you know it) that’s when you attract the real friends. The genuine ones.
Sounds like I’ve just boiled it down to a formula again, haven’t I? Guess I never really do stop trying to hit on that and I’ve just contradicted myself in this entire note when I say there isn’t really a formula. I do that a lot. We do that a lot.
I guess that just leaves me with: Good luck, kid. You’re going to be okay.
P.S. don’t forget - some of your best, dearest, closest and most loyal friends ... they’re actually with you right now. You know which ones I’m talking about.
reddish brass: how likely is your muse to step up and take the role of a leader? are they willing to take the challenge, or are they more apt to being a follower?
Bobby likes to think he could be a leader of a team, but in reality, he’s usually a backseat driver when it comes to being a team member. He has many opinions and likes to play devil’s advocate, especially when Scott Summers is at the helm, but putting the lives of fellow heroes in his hands makes him nervous. Bobby hopes that one day he will be a team leader and more importantly, a decision-maker. His dreams stem to the hopes that he won’t be called “kid” for once in his life and that someone will listen to him. However, he knows it’s a tall order and for now, he’ll play by the rules.
honey: when your muse loves someone (whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love), how do they show it?
reed is an affectionate man and he’s not afraid to show his love for the people important to him. he would give them a hug or a smile, maybe even an encouraging nod or a pat on the back when needed. he’s not one to shy away from physical affection and he’s also open to saying “i love you” and “i care about you” to people who are important to him.
frost blue: does your muse enjoy the snow and cold? or are they the type to enjoy summer more?
harry is more of a summer boy than he is of winter. summer meant vacation and trips away from problems. summer meant time with his friends. summer meant he had time to be harry and not osborn. summer meant he was going to live as himself and not hold himself back.
cadmium yellow: what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?
Logan tries to avoid the whole complicated topic of Stryker and having adamantium bonded to his skeleton, preferring to just accept it as something that’s happened and can’t be undone. There are times when he can’t help but think about how his life would have been different if none of that had happened, which just gets him into a rage because there isn’t any easy answer to that question. Ultimately, it’s just easier not to start thinking about the whole mess.
malachite: has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?
Logan would like you to believe that he never feels guilty, ever, but the truth of the matter is that he’s spent most of his life running from his guilt. There’s a lot that he carries with him like a festering wound.
The biggest of it all is the entire complicated series of events that led to him having to kill Jean in the original timeline. Even though that was all undone, it led him to avoid Jean in the new timeline, and when he learnt about what had happened to her and the Phoenix Force, he immediately wondered whether things would have been different if he’d been there and tried to help.
burnt umber: how stable is your muse, mentally and/or emotionally?
So stable. Stable as a rock.
No that’s a lie.
Logan’s not unstable, per se. Sure, he has a short fuse, and he’s hair-triggered emotionally. Sure, he has a huge amount of stuff that he’s packed away into a ‘Do Not Think About’ box. And sure, he uses anger and aggression to generally Not Deal With His Shit. No one ever said his coping mechanisms were healthy.
But it’s been a long time since the worst of it, and he’s achieved some kind of stability in his life now. It’s not a bandaid over a bleeding wound, it’s more like a bleeding wound held together by staples and super glue -- but for the most part, it’s holding. Still, that doesn’t mean that it can’t break open again when the right leverage is applied, and Logan’s breaking point is often closer to the surface than even he realises.
“what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?”
there’s so many things bucky would like to say to the person he once was. though, truthfully, that past self wasn’t much of a person at all. brainwashed, unable to speak up or fight for himself because he’d forgotten who he was as a whole. he’d want to tell himself that it gets better, and that it wasn’t his fault. those were two things he’d struggled with for so long -- the overwhelming sense of guilt for the blood that stained his hands. bucky can’t ever shake the feeling that he got lucky; he’d gotten out. he had a family. friends, too. he’s in control of himself now.
