Ao3 - Blog Posts
Tim: realising he's been sent back in time *immediately goes to steal money from Lex Luthor*
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fic: Take It Back Now Y'all by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime)
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the urge when I come across an amazing fic that was abandoned to pick up a pen and write the rest myself despite not having written anything ever in my entire life (I would most definitely ruin it)
me when I see Dark Matter has updated:
Brett: gives Peter resin in exchange for case info
Peter: *currently in his "sharpening things" phase*
(there's a reason Rhodey and Tony refuse to give Peter resin)
Tony: ...Peter, what did you make
Peter: A KNIFE!
Tony: NO!
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fic: in technicolor by deniigiq
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Spiderman when Nightwing tells him to keep an eye out for his own civilian identity
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fic: Dark Matter by mysterycyclone
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Peter sensing that he's being followed by the bats
*immediately deciding to walk directly to where his spider sense is the loudest out of spite*
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fic: time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN
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Peter: *trying to act nice when Fury brings him onto an Avengers mission*
Also Peter: *immediately getting the ick and ditching as soon as they start arguing with each other like a bunch of school children*
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fic: Death Before Inaction by hppjmxrgosg
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fic: no stupid questions by zippe
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living for unhinged teacher Peter Parker fics atm😭😭 him in inimitable by deniigiq as well is just *chefs kiss*🤌🤌
I'm not entirely sure how to use tumblr but here's some fanart of Dark Matter by mysterycyclone that I did a while ago :D it's Peter eating at the cafeteria in Gotham Prep :)))
And it is done! I wrote a theory, I bought the merch and now I’ve buckled down and wrote a fanfic on the topic. May this obsession be appeased enough to leave me alone!
May everyone else enjoy my descent into madness.
Ever since season 2 concluded back in December, I’ve been rethinking Brandon Roger’s slip of the tongue about how Blitzø “ran” I.M.P. instead of “runs”. A lot of us were convinced that Mastermind was going to have Blitzø’s business being destroyed along with the building it was being run in. But then Sinsmas aired, and I.M.P. is still going strong.
But then that begs the question, was that earlier statement by Brandon just a slip of the tongue? Or were we given a hint to a future conflict/conclusion that takes place in a later season?
Personally, I think there’s still a chance that Blitzø is going to lose I.M.P. And my obsession with finding lore/future hints in Vivzie’s official merchandise turned a simple passing thought into a freakin full blown obsession that just won’t leave me alone. So of course I’m going to share the insanity.
This Halloween T-shirt’s art is what started it all.
Blitzø is dressed up as an angel, something that anyone from hell would consider as terrifying or monstrous. Perfectly in theme with Halloween while also being ironically hilarious to the audience.
But what if it’s more than that? What if it’s a possible hint about how Helluva Boss will end? What if Blitzø doesn’t lose I.M.P. or willingly retire and pass it on?
Helluva Boss could just as easily end with Blitzø’s death. But that doesn’t mean it’s actually “THE END” the end for Blitzø’s or even Helluva Boss’ story. Because Blitzø could be reincarnated as an angel, just like he’s dressed up as in the Halloween art.
After all, Vivzie is also famous for another show based in hell that focuses on redeeming those condemned to live in hell. And one of those sinners was even redeemed and made it into heaven after sacrificing himself for his loved ones.
This sounds exactly like something Blitzø would do. In fact, he’s already tried to sacrifice himself for his family once already, and I highly doubt he won’t do it again. Especially with Stolas in the picture being as apathetic of his own life as he is.
Now, we know little to nothing about how death affects hellborns, or if they even have souls that can die like a human’s from earth. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be a possibility! After all, ghosts might not exist in the Helluva Boss universe. But reincarnation hasn’t been taken off the table yet! And it would really add an interesting twist in the lore of the Helluva/Hazbin universe. Which would then be the perfect excuse to bring some Helluva Boss characters over into Hazbin Hotel.
Oh, and then there’s the full moon/heaven imagery to consider.
Heaven is the freaking moon in Helluva Boss! And Stolas has already visualized Blitzø as being unreachable in the glow of said moon…
So, maybe there is merit to the idea that Blitzø can be reincarnated into heaven. Thoughts?
Saving My Fanfiction Work
Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.
Along with the KOSA bill that has many problems and it has passed the senate now needing the finally vote in the house, which both are majority red. Go here to learn more on why it needs to be stopped and how you can. This is another component that will harm our communities. Go to: stopkosa.com
With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.
I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.
Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)
For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only. To clarify I’m saying this as others have asked if they could download my fanfic so for those who would like to you can.
If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.
Here are some links to tutorials:
Downloading Fanfic
Adding to Iphone & Android Library
Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)
Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)
Types of Files and What they mean
Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.
DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.
DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.
Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.
♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.
♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.
Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!
me: *writes fic*
me: great! time to post to ao3-
ao3 summary box: *exists*
me:
ao3 summary box:
me:
ao3 summary box:
me:
Been hearing this is a problem again. Don't be a dick in bookmarks, folks. And yes while I made this image, I'm giving free reign. Take it. Spread it far and wide. Because I'm hearing that some readers don't know that their bookmarks are visible.
my holy trinity of "how much angst can I fit into this poor fictional character"
I don't know how to feel about my most successful fic being a Hannibal chat fic, like cmon guys I write smut too
writing fanfiction until my tension headache spirals into a migraine
Stay with me: Will and Hannibal have been fighting for months about their criteria for hunting in a post-fall world, never able to agree on what murders are justified, who deserves or doesn’t deserve to be punished… and then the cybertruck is introduced
Fic idea where Will buys a sketchy house for unbelievably cheap, only to regret buying it because the house is haunted by a malevolent spirit (Hannibal) that wants him to please stop messing up his beautiful home with his blasphemous modern technology (also please stop tearing out the floorboards because you're going to find my medieval torture chamber and I will have to get rid of you no matter how attractive you are)
I will write smut and think it's the pinnacle of all my works, forget about it, remember I wrote it, then cringe and put it in a hidden folder on ao3 where it will never again see the light of day
need a destiel fic where castiel's obsession with dean borders on creepily obsessive but dean is a little freak so he likes it
i’m pissing myself i need more abbacchio x reader content or ill explode and im afraid of character.ai and wattpad has barely anything and i’ve already read everything on there and ao3 is freaky as hell i swear there’s an abbacchio x reader vore thing that scared me where is the normal content bro i’m gonna cry not trying to sound like a brat guys i just love abbacchio and reading fanfics is my specialty
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
Other
Fandom:
DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Relationship:
None
Character:
Mark Beaks
Additional Tags:
DepressionMark beaks DEFINITELY has depression
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2025-03-28Updated:2025-03-30Words:1,763Chapters:2/?Kudos:2Hits:14
Inner demon's
1anon1
Chapter Management
Edit Chapter
Chapter 2: A day at Waddle! (And also to see how much Marks inner demon's get the better of him ;P)
Summary:
Mark Beaks has everything—money, success, a company with his name on it—but none of it feels real anymore...none of it mattered, it never did.
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Chapter Text
The building’s doors slid open, revealing the sleek, high-tech office lobby that bore his name. But Mark felt like a stranger in it. ‘What are you doing? You’re just standing here like an idiot. Walk in already.’ He swallowed hard, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag before finally stepping inside.
As soon as he stepped in, he was met with the usual chorus of greetings-employees flashing polite smiles as they walked past. He then gave them his signature finger-guns. It was an effortless charm he could pull off but…it felt so robotic, and hollow.
His chest tightened as he moved through the space, it was filled with people who actually belonged here. With his heart pounding against his ribs it made it harder and harder to focus, but he managed to ignore it, forcing a smile to everyone he saw. After all, it looked like he had everything under control…no one knew how bad he was really falling apart.
Mark walked forward, but he wasn’t really there. His mind spiraled elsewhere, his thoughts turning sharper, harsher, as he made his way toward the elevator. ‘You don’t belong here. You’re just playing pretend. They’re all working, actually earning their place here—so beaks, what are you doing here?’
His chest tightened again, his pulse hammering in his ears. The world around him felt distant—blurry faces, muted voices, the artificial brightness of the office space that suddenly felt too sterile, too wrong. He barely noticed the people passing him, barely registered the weight of his own footsteps. He was sinking, drowning under the crushing weight of failure, failure, failure—
A light tap on his shoulder snapped him back. He blinked rapidly, suddenly aware that he had stopped in the middle of the floor. Miss Taffy stood beside him, tablet in hand, one perfectly arched brow raised.
“I was going over your schedule,” she said, her tone careful. “Are you listening?”
Mark forced a grin, shifting his duffel bag like that would somehow make him look more composed. “Yeah, yeah, totally. Hit me with it.”
She held his gaze for a second longer before continuing.
“Okay, well, after this, you’ve got the…”
She rattled off meetings, calls, and appointments, but the words blurred together, slipping through his mind like static. He nodded along absently, pretending. Just like always.
°°°
He was now in his office, he felt so tired.
Mark sat at his desk, staring at the untouched food beside him. A perfectly plated meal—probably expensive, probably something he once would’ve snapped a picture of just to flex online. But now, it just sat there, untouched, because the thought of eating made his stomach twist. He hadn't eaten in a while, why couldn't he just eat? ‘You don't deserve it, that's why’
He leaned back in his chair, letting his head tip against the headrest, eyes drifting to the ceiling. His office was pristine, sleek, designed to impress—but to him, it just felt cold. Lifeless. It was supposed to be a reflection of his success, of the empire he built, but right now, it felt more like a cage. A glass box where everyone could see him but no one really could.
The office buzzed faintly outside his door—muffled conversations, ringing phones, the steady hum of productivity. People working. People actually doing something. Meanwhile, he was slumped in his chair, hands limp in his lap, the glow of his computer screen casting sharp shadows on his face. His inbox was flooded with emails—some urgent, some not—but all of them felt equally impossible.
He let out a slow breath, running a hand down his face.
“Get it together Marcus.” He mumbled.
‘Just answer one. Just one.’
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but his mind felt blank. No words came. ‘...your pathetic’ The pressure in his chest returned, squeezing tighter, heavier.
A notification popped up—a meeting in ten minutes. He was supposed to pitch something. Something new. Something exciting.
Mark swallowed hard, staring at the screen like it had personally betrayed him. “What the hell am I even doing anymore?”
°°°
The office was nearly empty by the time Mark finally left his desk. The once-busy space had died down, the usual chatter replaced by the quiet hum of the cleaning crew working in the background. The city outside his window still glowed, alive with people who had places to be, things to do. But up here, in his high-rise office, it was just him.
He made his way to the elevator, each step feeling heavier than the last. His duffel bag dragged at his shoulder, and his body ached—not from work, not from anything physical, but from the sheer weight of existing. He should be relieved that the day was over, but there was no comfort in that. Just the knowledge that he’d have to do it all again tomorrow.
The elevator doors slid shut, enclosing him in cold, artificial lighting. He let out a breath, pressing his forehead against the mirrored wall. His reflection stared back, exhausted eyes dull and unfocused. ‘This is you. This is what you’ve become.’
His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag. The silence pressed in. He was going home to an empty penthouse, to another night of nothing, to a bed that felt too big and a life that felt too small.
The doors chimed open to the parking garage. He didn’t move right away, just stood there, staring out at the empty lot. The thought of driving home, of going through the motions yet again, made his stomach sink.
For just a second, he considered turning around. Maybe going somewhere—anywhere—just to feel something. But the thought passed just as quickly as it came. He stepped forward, letting the doors slide shut behind him.
Mark’s footsteps echoed through the parking garage, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls in an eerie, hollow rhythm. His car sat in its designated spot, sleek and expensive, yet it felt like just another meaningless possession. He unlocked it with a lazy press of a button, the headlights flashing briefly before settling back into stillness. He hesitated before getting in, gripping the door handle, staring at his own reflection in the tinted window. The version of himself staring back looked drained, like a ghost of someone who once had energy, drive—purpose.
He finally slid into the driver’s seat, the familiar leather cool against his back. The moment he shut the door, the world outside faded into muffled silence, leaving him alone with his thoughts. His fingers hovered over the ignition button, but he didn’t press it. Instead, letting a tired groan, exhaling a slow, shaky breath and resting his head on the steering wheel. ‘What are you even doing at this point?’ The thought looped endlessly in his mind, gnawing at him. He had everything—money, fame, success—yet he had nothing that actually mattered. And that realization felt heavier than anything else.
He sat there for a while longer before finally started the car, the engine purring to life, but he didn’t move. The GPS screen glowed, waiting for a destination, but he had nowhere to go. His penthouse wasn’t a home—it was just another empty space, another reminder of how hollow everything had become. He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, his breath unsteady. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, the thought crossed his mind—what if I just kept driving? No destination, no plan, just…away? But he knew better. No matter how far he went, the weight in his chest would follow. With a tired sigh, he put the car in drive and pulled out of the garage, disappearing into the city lights like just another passing shadow.
‘YOU are the reason your like this’
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Notes:
Follow me on Ao3 if you like this stuff or is a Mark beaks fan!
1anon1
Ok serious post. How do I outwit the AO3 curse? Because my desire to write is being suppressed by my inability to handle another fucking curve ball from life and I’m too scared to even look at my fix without fearing yet another disaster. Genuinely how do you write without being shot 57 times? Like do I have to make a sacrifice? Is there a special prayer? I’ll do anything at this point.
Chat. I am making mutuals.
Just had to come out as a mega lame nerd to my nerd bestie. He was very upset. Sorry Bestie-Dean.
- strawberries and cigarettes by Troy Sivon
I am starting a thread of songs I want people to make edits to. TikTok, YouTube, I don’t care if you send it to me through the mail on a dvd, if it has these songs to two (or more) queer fuckers I’ll watch it. Thank you.
-poltergeist by Blackbear featuring Baywatch
Yes see totally agree but how do I convince my coworkers to let me count fanfics for our book bingo competition in the office?
fanfic writers are so fucking awesome man. they write novel length fics that are sometimes even better than some published bestselling books written by professional writers. like fanfic writers are professional writers to me and they gift us their masterpieces for free. they give us something we can look forward to after a long day. something from which we can seek comfort when life is hard. something that can be our own little getaway. in a world of capitalism, despite everything, they give us all of these for free. like holy fuck. shout out to every fanfic writer. I wish all fanfic writers a very ‘I love you with all my heart and soul. I thank you from the bottom of my heart’