illusioned - Tumblr blog

[illusioned]

“I came in here expecting a trick, but you’re a real treat.” WHOOPS. ~

𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒   //   currently  accepting .

               𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇  exhales from his lungs, head ducking slightly to shake in mock dismay.     “ that the best you got, stark ? ”     leaning back in his chair, he looks up from behind the work station desk bits of machinery and papers of intricate designs clutter its top.     their latest project they’ve been working on together the past few weeks.     though, those papers have a bad habit of being pushed onto the floor without warning.     nevertheless, quentin manages a smile as he hoists himself up to his feet to wander over.     as if like a reflex, his hands slip around the hem of tony’s jeans and settle on the soft fabric engulfing his lower back.     they’re close, not enough to lean in and steal breath, but enough to feel that gentle warmth of a flame that a moth is drawn to.     a warmth of familiarity. 

“ you gotta step up your game, ”     he chastises, lips pursed together, a blatant show of unamusement, though the joviality in his eyes betray him.     “ we got that big costume party to get ready for later, remember ?     have you even picked out your costume ? ”     a quick lick of his lips as he glances down, unapologetically taking in the sight of the man before him.     the freshly trimmed beard, the slightly damp hair, and that all too familiar blue glowing in time with his breath.     “ i was gonna go as douchebag billionaire, but it seems like you’ve already got that covered. ”

[illusioned]

halloween sentence starters

Feel free to change pronouns or anything else !

at a party

“I love the decorations.”

“There are so many sexy kitties in here.”

“Am I the only one in costume?”

“I’m not sure if this room is full of strangers or if I just can’t recognize anyone because of the costumes.”

“Do I hear ‘Monster Mash’ playing?”

“Come on, let’s dance. Even the skeletons are doing it.”

“Did someone spike the punch?”

“I hate costume parties…”

at a haunted house

“This stuff’s for babies.”

“AAAAAHHHHH!”

“Hey, can we…go home? Not that I’m scared.”

“BOO!”

“Wait, are you actually scared?”

“FuCK NO–”

“That makeup is so realistic.”

“I paid $40 so I better die.”

alone

“You should hang out with me later. I’m gonna marathon a bunch of movies.”

“[text] Hey, it’s me. I heard banging noises and I’m terrified. Please save me.”

“Halloween?? With friends?? What friends?”

“[text] I just heard some weird noises. [text] No I’m being serious. [text] I need you ri”

“I’m probably just going to stay up all night so the ghosts don’t kill me.”

“I’ll just be chilling with the monsters under my bed.”

“Maybe I’ll summon a demon so I have someone to hang out with.”

“Do ghosts like Netflix?”

with kids

“Don’t eat all your candy at once!”

“Aw~ I love your costume.”

“And who are you?”

“Look, man. You can’t give toothbrushes to kids on Halloween.”

“Trick or treat!”

“Let me check those before you eat them.”

“UGH, why am I stuck with a bunch of babies?”

“I wish it was socially acceptable for me to trick or treat on my own, but it’s not, so.”

with friends

“We should egg his/her/their house.”

“Help me with my costume!”

“TIME TO GET SPOOKY.”

“Are you just going to wear a T-shirt that says ‘costume’ on it?”

“Should we be drinking this much?”

“The ouija board says you’re a little shit.”

“Let’s tell ghost stories.”

“Time to join the skeleton war, bitches.”

as a flirt

“You look so hot in that.”

“After being freaks, are we gonna get freaky?”

“[jumps into __’s arms out of fear]”

“Your outfit is scary…take it off.”

“I came in here expecting a trick, but you’re a real treat.”

“If I was in a scary movie, I’d want to be trapped with you.”

“You–uh–spooked…my heart.”

“I’d let you haunt me all night long.”

misc.

“Let’s carve a pumpkin!”

“I’d be a witch in another life.”

“I wonder if I still have that ouija board…”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“What costume are you wearing?”

“Let’s pull a prank.”

“I hate Halloween.”

“Can you tell me why you have an actual skeleton in your closet?”

[illusioned]

Mysterio Uniform Details | Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019)

[illusioned]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒.

( manipulated  by  kylo  //  mcu,  comics,  headcanon,  &  d.onn.ie  dar.ko  inspired ) 

[illusioned]

Jake Gyllenhaal

[illusioned]

“ Don’t tell me to relax , Happy ! How can I relax when i messed up so bad ?! I trusted Beck , right ? I thought he was my friend so i gave him the only thing Mr. Stark left behind for me and now he’s gonna kill my friends and half of Europe so please, do not tell me to relax ! ”

indie mutuals only MCU BASED PETER PARKER

                                         est. may 2018 / rev. may 2019 / webbed by ash

template cred. 

[illusioned]

◦ ○ ◯ 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘.

as soon as beck is back on his feet, tony practically longs for that feeling of him growing heavy in his lap, the way that his breath had started to even out.  something is wrong and that much he knows; it’s more than just the absence of medication.  this isn’t something that tony is allowed to be apart of anymore though; there’s a fraction dividing them, has been for some time now.  something worse than the snap, and he doesn’t fully think that that’s possible.  fingers shake against his thighs, watching the way that beck fights anything remotely resembling sleep.  it falls in shatters around them and makes him breathe in sharply through his nose.  everything that he had ever wanted is lying broken and he doesn’t know how to repair it.  he’s a genius, has inherited a multi-million dollar company, and yet there’s just something about the two of them that he can’t super glue back together. 

tony’s never been good with piecing them back together, has never been good with pulling back and pushing together from a fight.  heart hammers in an aching chest; how many times have they fought now and not been able to find their way back?  both of them are stubborn, horrible, twisted into broken pieces that they can’t fully articulate.  tony wanted the technology for therapeutic purposes, sees the good in the tech while beck sees the opportunity for illusions, to make everyone see what he wants them to.  even back then he knew that something was wrong, that he couldn’t let beck actually get his hands on the tech in that manner, but his heart had let him.  because tony would do anything for him. 

everyone thinks that tony is incapable of love, that he was this gigantic playboy just because the tabloids reported it.  but the truth of the matter was, was that behind closed doors, his heart was in the hands of one quentin beck, no matter how many times he seen a giant bunny or how many times they fought one another, tooth and nail.  he loves him, full heartedly, and he has never recovered from their break up.  because when you put everything on the line, hold your hand out and hope that he’ll take it and he never does  ——  it scars you.  it makes you pull away from other people, because you start to think that maybe it’s you.  maybe everything you touch is meant to break and fall.  if you can’t keep the one thing that you so desperately want, are you really meant to have it? 

so no, tony’s never been good at pulling the threads closer so that they’re stitched back together.  beck’s always been just out of his touch, that figment of an illusion that his hand will go though if he truly tries.  but that doesn’t mean that tony’s ever moved on, or that tony’s ever even found his footing once it’s fallen to pieces and he’s tumbled from the cliff. 

it’s easier to project and be what the tabloids want, because then he knows what everyone will expect of him.  he knows they’ll get close for the fame and their photos together.  and that’s okay  ——  mindless sex is better than being alone. 

however, there’s a small fraction of hope, a small opening that quentin is providing him with.  that’s more than he ever thought he would get from him.  entire body has been poised to walk back out that door, ready to be kicked out and told to never return.  it wouldn’t be the first time that he’s found himself out on his ass when it comes to quentin beck, and he doubts that those moments will be the last.  but right now, there’s an olive branch dangling in front of him, and he pulls in a careful breath.  hope is a dangerous thing to have, but he allows himself the moment.  he’s selfish and he indulges, nodding his head as he watches the interaction between the dog who so obviously loves his former lover. 

“i could go for breakfast.  haven’t exactly had anything to eat yet today.”  a small shrug of his shoulders; they’re both notorious for getting too wrapped up in their work to grab something.  it’s almost a familiar tip toe into the past: if he closes his eyes, he can pretend that they’re back in the lab, that quentin is nudging his nose into his shoulder and kissing it before telling him it’s time for a break.  that’s dangerous though. 

he dismisses the thought almost right away. 

“as long as it’s french toast.   i make a mean stuffed french toast if you’ve got the ingredients.”  another olive branch, and tony’s aware of how fast his heart is beating, how every inch of him wants to back him against the counter and wipe whipped cream across his lips like he used to. 

the dog nudges against him, nudges him out of that dangerous thought, and he sends beck a small smile.  it’s okay to hope and remember —— but this is about beck, not him, and he refuses to be selfish any further.

𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊, 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃.     the walls of his house melt before his very eyes, reshaping into something new, somewhere familiar.     they’re back in tony’s house, the mirrors of his hallway now drip down to form the giant waterfall by the stairs.     the white walls, the spiral staircase, the large open windows to the beach.     those were sights that allowed a certain spread of warmth to settle over quentin’s chest, the familiarity beckoning him forward to live in this moment.     he remembers this, it’s the morning after tony had gotten a proper night’s sleep since his return from afghanistan.     quentin had made them breakfast that morning, nothing special but something nonetheless just to celebrate the little things.     this was the one night that he had witnessed tony triumph over the demons that plagued his dreams, a newfound praise for the man swelled in quentin’s chest. 

tony was beside him, donning that familiar velvety red robe that matched the color of his couches, the folds parted just enough to reveal that soft blue glow at the center of his chest.     take care of it, will you ?     i need the man attached to it.     quentin had said, although his mouth did not move, his voice still carried the words.     it was an odd experience, simultaneously reliving the memory yet being unable to move within it.     tony turned towards him, his face full of youth and hair with less flecks of grey, that same small smile perched on his lips.     tony then told him not to break it, his reactor, his heart.     to which quentin had replied with   don’t break mine first.

and just like that, the scene shatters around him.     the warm memory of what might have been the last time that they had breakfast together, a shared moment of pure domesticity, falls.     he attempts to grab at the shards of the memory now fading before his very fingertips, but it’s no use.     his body remains frozen in place, eyes only staring straight forward as if the second he were to look away, he too would fall victim to shattering.

he’s plunged into darkness, nothing but a hallway that seems to get smaller and smaller the more he were to walk down.    at the end stands that all too familiar menacing face.     eyes a pupil less white, teeth jutting out from the bottom of its obscure snout, and lengthy ears that bent in ways that only added to its intimidating height.

not now, not in front of tony.     wherever he was.

the bunny’s head tilted in such a way that made its teeth appear as if it were grinning.     as if it knew that there was no other way out of this situation that to walk towards him, join him for whatever sick pleasures he commanded.     quentin felt nauseous, a certain sway in his step that almost sent him tumbling backwards.     he attempted to regain his balance, but that pull backwards was sharper this time, making his head jerk backwards away from frank’s beckoning grin.

he blinks and everything returns back to normal.     he’s in his lit hallway, the ones with the newspaper taped mirrors, and tony the dog looking up at him expectantly with his tail wagging, and a living breathing tony stark besides him.     a warmth blossoms in his hand, pale eyes breaking from tony’s searching ones to focus on the fact that his hand was clasped around tony’s own.     the breath he had been holding now freely escapes his lungs, the wave of nausea passing.     a smile flickers on his lips for a moment before he turns to whatever was before him.     the tape from one of the mirrors had gotten unstuck, allowing for the newspaper to fall and reveal the glassy reflection underneath.

“ sorry, ”     quentin whispers, bending down to pick up the paper and tack it back into place.     “ i daydreamed again. ”     typically it would be something that he would laugh about, an activity he would undertake during long lab hours and not enough sleep.     but nowadays, the daydreams were just as terrifying as nightmares.     nightmares tampered with his subconscious, him nothing more than a puppet on strings.     but daydreams mocked him, played memories before his eyes while he remained motionless, unable to interact, only to be yanked away by frank in another attempt of getting to him.     if tony had not pulled his hand, quentin had no idea what would have happened.

quentin was about to brush it off, carry on walking back towards the kitchen like nothing happened, but he hesitates.     “ do you remember that one morning we had breakfast together, the one after you had finally slept through the night after afghanistan ? ”     a smile finds its way back to his lips, a single shard of that memory had been tucked safely into his pocket.     “ i had attempted to make stuffed french toast for you.     you pretended to like it but distracted me so you could make a fresh batch. ”     laughing, he shakes his head, hand not close to losing its grip with tony’s.     “ i got better at it, i’ll show you. ”

[illusioned]

// had a busy week, replies and starters will be coming soon!  preesh the patience as i get my life together 

[illusioned]

Loki’s Coronation Deleted Scene Thor: The Dark World

[illusioned]

𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆         …         but ,    i don’t wanna forget.       I can’t turn away anymore .      𝐒𝐎  …    if I’m gonna 𝚍𝚒𝚎 ,   well it might as well be driving 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 the heart of that 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚐 .

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐤𝐚.𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐞 - 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢 !! est. 2019  

[illusioned]

◦ ○ ◯ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑.

◇─◇──◇────◇  @illusioned  Liked.

                                                  “ Mr. Beck “    Peter Park’s voice carries itself up from behind the computer screen, he wasn’t doing anything SERIOUS, serious here meaning life-changing but it was important enough in his mind.  “ Didn’t know you were stopping by - now that you’re here though you gotta check this out.  “ The excitement could perhaps be seen on his features, rarer  now since he came back from the DISAPPEARANCE - really since he had to say goodbye to Tony.       “ Everyone was saying we needed an easier way to track those MONSTERS,  the elementals         Now, since they work with the earth, from what we know. I figured we could scan the core, see if anything abnormal is taking place.”  He takes a minor sigh, filling his lungs with air again. “ it was a little difficult considering i wanted to save time and not have to travel down there but i managed it with scanners                             and energy flares, basically. it shoots out in waves and scans” 

          𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍.  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃.     he was very good.     the engineer side of quentin was practically brimming with pride, but the sensible side of him knew that it would be pointless, that no such waves and scans would ever be detected.     they were chasing nothing but smoke and mirrors, figments of his own twisted imagination.     perhaps quentin could send out a fake signal, a heated burst just enough to humor the kid into thinking they got something.

regardless, quentin casts him a quick smile as he scans through the handiwork on the screen.     “ ––– and therefore it’ll be easier to check thermal spikes for the fire elemental.     brilliant !! ”     for added measure, he pats peter’s back in approval.      “ at least someone here has their head on straight.     though, take a breather in between your sentences, would ya ?     you’re making me winded just listenin’ to you. ”     it’s a casual jest, the smile resting on his features nowhere near close to vanishing anytime soon. 

[illusioned]

◦ ○ ◯ 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘.

     SOMETIMES good men who are heroes can do bad things, and sometimes those bad things consist of drinking an entire bottle of scotch on your own, in your own lab, at three in the morning. And sometimes good men can want to kill other good men who are incredibly annoying for… one in the afternoon. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Pulling it an all nighter?” Tony rubbed at his face, pushing his hands through his hair to remove it from his face as he watched Quentin move, a small smile pulling on his lips as he moved effortlessly through Tony’s workspace.

“Let’s make it just black today, huh?” He offered, reaching for the cup once it was held out to him. “Don’t you ever get tired of finding me like this? So… Human?” He asked, leaning back in his chair to watch his brilliant lab partner. “It’s fine if you do- It wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve been told.”

          𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋, 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐅 they were two college roommates nursing hangovers before the start of finals week.     but more of the fact that they were more than just business partners on the verge of something great with the new technology awaiting at their fingertips.     quentin dared to even call tony his friend, though the only times they were sociable were during their work hours, not that he minded.

the question makes quentin’s brows furrow slightly together before he purses his lips and shrugs.     “ not at all, ”     a smooth start, pausing to take a sip from his own coffee.     it was true, seeing tony in this certain light was humanizing, gave quentin a boosted sense of confidence so that he was under the impression that tony trusted him enough to see him in such a light.     “ not too many can say they’ve been up close and personal with the one mister tony stark either, so. ”     another modest shrug accompanying a gentle tease.     “ if anything, i’m surprised you haven’t kicked me out yet. ”

[illusioned]

Donnie Darko (2001) – Dir. Richard Kelly

[illusioned]

[illusioned]

◦ ○ ◯ 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘.

                   FINGERS TANGLE IN CHOCOLATE HAIR like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do.     and in a way,   it is.    because this is the side of beck that no one got to see, the side of him that tony’s kept close and bit his lip to hide.     the best kept secret and his favorite mistakes, all twirled down to one person, one set of clear blue eyes that put the sky to shame   ( and put rogers’ to shame ).      beck isn’t out of his mind very often; he’s brilliant, perfect, just the way he is.    the only reason that tony insists is because of frank; because he knows that there’s something real and haunting, something that makes beck scream his throat raw.     he’s seen a drawing once, and that had been enough to unsettle him.     he remembers trying to edit the illusion tech to provide  safer haven for him.      it had never worked, not then anyway.         now?      now he might be able to do this.     it would take time though, and in those moments, he would need the pills.

and it doesn’t matter how many times he’s fought with beck.     it doesn’t matter how many falling outs that they’ve had.     what matters is beck being okay, and if he can secure that with a small amount of pills and a pharmacy?       he’ll do it.      he’ll do it because he has to, because even if the world is falling down around him, all tony wants to do is shelter him from it.      from those demons that can take residence inside of his mind.      tony knows his own all too well; the chitauri, the avengers fallen and dead at his feet.       when he closes his eyes at night, the vacuum of space chokes him, and he wakes up gasping for air.        it’s in those moments that he misses the kindness of jarvis; friday is great, but she isn’t the same.      she’s learning, but there’s something haunting in her voice.     something that he doesn’t like, because it echos raw inside of him.     reminds him of the hopelessness of sokovia, of mourning an ai that’s been there for him since the beginning.

there haven’t been many constants for him; there’s the cold, unfeeling nature of howard stark,  the protectiveness of happy hogan,  the belief that rocks through pepper potts.     but even then, he’s put them all in danger.   they’re fragile and broken by his hands, and he curses how rough he can be.    they aren’t play toys and he understands that, but he also knows that his world keeps spinning off the axis constantly and he’s merely struggling to hang on.    to find an anchor point to grab onto when the world won’t let him.     being this close to beck again is horrifying, his heart hammering in his chest to a familiar beat;  but he can’t get too close, and he knows.     the closer he gets, the more that beck will break.     the more that beck breaks, the more that tony’s universe shatters to pieces around him.

he’s broken him before.    pulled himself away from everything that they had because he was scared.     because everything that he had wanted was falling through his fingers; he had crashed and burned through a worm hole above new york city, had crashed to the ground and woke up to a scream echoing throughout his entire body.     everything had been about iron man and protecting himself, and now a new team.   the closer that he got to them, the further he pulled away from beck.    there was no balance.     he kept him as his own dirty secret, because if he was kept deep down in the depths, then he couldn’t get hurt.       and protecting beck was the thing that was the most important objective.

“we can fix it.”     the words are hushed, nervous, haunted as fingers tangle in those strands of hair.     they’re longer than they used to be, but there’s familiarity in the weight on his thigh, there’s a warmth that makes his eyes flutter and his heart yearn.     there aren’t many things that he knows about quentin beck anymore, but there’s that gasping whine in his mind that this is everything he’s missed, everything that he’s ever tried to obtain.   and now he’s there once more, weighted and beautiful against his skin, and tony wants to cry.

because he doesn’t deserve this.       because he’s the monster under the bed.

“i can fix it.      i have to.      i’ve fucked the world with this failure.”     his voice is hollow, and he takes in a sharp breath; it shudders and he knows that it’s locked in with emotion that he can’t hide.      he loves and loves and loves, and all that’s left is the broken warrior they all want to see.      they want hope.      they want iron man.  

but the truth is, is that he’s never been the hero.    he’s always been fighting the mistakes he’s made.    and he’s tired and mourning, and his team doesn’t care.      steve’s obsessed with thanos and he doesn’t want to be part of it.     he needs to heal.

he needs to fix more mistakes than the cosmos.     he needs to fix the broken boy in his lap.      because he knows he can.

          𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 ?     it was never really put into perspective until his head was resting in tony’s lap, fingers gingerly combing through the long spindly strands of his hair.     when was the last time that quentin truly slept ?     that he didn’t somehow sleepwalk onto his front yard after a late night confrontation with frank, nonsensical numbers scrawled across his arm that no matter how many times he scrubbed clean they still felt there ?     he didn’t trust sleep, didn’t trust how vulnerable his mind was during that time that he could so easily be manipulated to walk out the door without knowing.     that’s why he got a dog, got tony the sweet saint bernard, to help keep him in check and prevent him from sleep walking and potentially other dangerous things under the influence of unconsciousness.     but laying in tony’s lap, for the first time in too long a time, quentin felt that comforting embrace of sleep crawling up his skin and kissing his eyelids.

maybe he could rest right here, just for a few moments.     muscles start to relax, a sigh slips past his lips as he focuses on tony’s hand in his hair, an anchor tethering him to reality so that he won’t float away, that he won’t become frank’s plaything this time.

the nightmares were always the worst, especially the ones he couldn’t explain, the words tying his tongue together that the only thing he could do was watch helplessly as his parents shook their heads in grief at the inability of knowing what to do, watch as his therapist continued scribbling down notes and not once looking up at him, watch himself take pill after pill in the hopes that one day that frank will be gone or he just won’t wake up, watch as tony woke up besides him due to his screaming and pull him into his chest to hold onto till it stopped.     

how many times had he lost his voice ?     screaming it raw into the first streams of daylight of the next morning that it became too hoarse to even use.     that he’d be forced to stay silent during his presentations, leaving tony to take up the mantle and speak upon his behalf.     shame would weigh heavy on his shoulders during those days, with nothing more than a simple whisper of thank you to tony and mental scoldings to himself of  ‘ that should have been you, it should have been you ! ’     he wouldn’t see tony in the later hours during those days, not even bothering to return his text messages until he found his voice again.     shameful, absolutely shameful.     he was a fortified genius with plans that could change the very future, yet he still was plagued by a haunting of a terrifying rabbit that no one could see, what was that supposed to say about him ?

no wonder why tony had fired him.

with a sigh, quentin opens his eyes and sits up, giving them a gentle rub before turning back to tony.     there’s a haunting look in his eye, the one that quentin had seen in his own face many many times, a look that he now hides under taped newspaper on those mirrors.     “ it’s not the first thing you fucked. ”     the words somehow manage from his lips before he even has a chance to stop them.     but he smiles anyway, tilting his head away a little as he smoothes down his hair where tony’s fingers had been entangled.     jumping to his feet abruptly, blinking that sleepiness from his eyes, quentin offers a hand to pull him up.     “ stay for breakfast, ”     he offers, though it seems more like a hopeful command than a suggestion.     “ we can un-fuck the world in a minute. ”

and for a moment, those pale blue eyes glance down to tony’s lips, but thankfully they’re torn away before he could do something rash.     tony the dog was rubbing against his leg, tongue lolling out as he looks up at quentin with those damn loving big brown eyes.     quentin owed that dog so much.     “ breakfast for you too, tones-y.     i could never forget about you. ”     

[illusioned]

◦ ○ ◯   @soulkitchened​ .   |   starter  call .

          𝐎𝐇, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄  shaping out to be.     well, there was quite the bit of damage to the poor cityscape below, but it was a small price to be paid in the end.     situated atop a building,  rather comfortably as a matter of fact,  quentin watches the carnage of his latest creation take effect.     the elementals were his best story yet, the one currently ravaging the innocent city was a monstrous creature made of jagged earth.     or, rather, that’s what the folks down below were lead to believe.     and at the center of the battle was mysterio himself, the latest symbol in heroics, defending till his last breath.     it was all too easy.

switching to a first person view, quentin takes in the surroundings of what mysterio sees, and notices a figure seemingly paralyzed in fear outside of a small bakery shop.     mustering up his voice, quentin practically yells into his microphone, voice now carried out by the false image of his superhero self directed at the poor soul.     “ get out of here while you can ! ”     he commands as mysterio hovers by the blonde male, green smoke billowing from underneath him.     “ i’ll do my best to draw it away from your bakery ! ”

[illusioned]

In Spider-Man: Far From Home, Peter wears a jester’s mask as he introduces himself to Quentin Beck. The mask choice foreshadows how Peter’s ass gets clowned by Quentin and his elaborate hoax later in the film.