Ask box is currently disabled for mental health reasons; sorry about that. If you want me to participate in an ask game, just tag me with it.
Nerd page! I do fanfic (which is alright) and sometimes art (which is less alright). Tendency to jump hyperfixations like a kid on a bounce castle, currently here with Pokemon, FNaF, and Star Wars. I use she/her and tend to prefer Shadow or Pix as shorthands.
Hi and hello! I'm ShadowPixelle, aka Pix, and it's nice to meet y'all! I have... like a lot of fics and fandoms that I'm in, it's pretty much an endless rotation of what I'm working on at any one time, so this post is less 'this is all my stuff' and more 'this is a link to my stuff so you can take a look'!
Ao3 link; ShadowPixelle
Tumblr Exclusive Stuff; Masterpost link to Strange Aeons, Masterpost link to Braided Fates
PERMISSIONS STATEMENT
You can, if you'd like, transform any of my fanworks for things like related works, podfic, translations, fan art. I'd appreciate links if you do it, but feel free to do it if you'd like to.
I do NOT give permission to use my works in any form of AI training. DO NOT put my work into AI generators or attempt to use AI to 'finish' a piece of work.
Thanks very much.
(Also, no obligation, but I have a Ko-Fi as well if you enjoy my work and have the money to spare for that sort of thing.)
so they said that it turns out that if you centrifuge ricotta cheese at something like 20,000 RPM for a few minutes, you end up with a solid substance that's delicious but so rich that it feels like it solidifies your arteries instantly. they were working on incorporating it into pastry fillings
i need to warn you about something terrible: after you've finished your story and are emotionally done with it and satisfied you will need to read it another four or five hundred times. possibly more. and when you think you will not have to read it any more, you will find a typo. and fixing it will create a grammar dilemma. and then you will wake up in the middle of the night like WAIT WAS THAT THE RIGHT WORD, SHIT I NEED TO CHECK and also you will need to google "what is a drive train" even though you know what a drive train is, in case it turns out you don't know what it is
and then you should probably read it one more time
masterpost cw: the JL are going into the GIW facility so there's mentions of experimentation. Nothing is too graphic though.
The GIW really are overconfident bastards.
Barry tries not to cuss about this whole thing around the kids. It isn’t that he thinks the kids haven’t heard cussing, or even that cussing doesn’t have its place. It’s more that he’s worried if he starts that he won’t be able to stop. The kids didn’t need to deal with his frustrations over this. They need him to be strong.
Most of the time.
Right now is about wrecking these overconfident bastards.
Barry can feel the anti ghost shielding. Moving through it is like pushing through a door strung with clingfilm. It slows him down, but it doesn’t stop him. Wally is fractions of a second behind him. Barry would have rather had Wally at the other locations where there would be less chance of being shot at, but there had been no convincing the Titans of staying away completely.
Wally takes the left path as Barry takes the right. Something about them coming through the shielding triggers the alarms. Something about them says ‘ghost. Barry tries not to think about it, because he can’t afford to think about it right then. They have a mission.
Locking the GIW out of their own armory is ridiculously simple. Again, overconfident bastards. He avoids taking out any of the agents just yet, just to cut down on panic. Next step was to find the security room. Wally made it there first. Two agents are passed out on the floor. Barry leaves the computers to Wally for the moment and focuses on securing the agents with zip ties. He uses their ties as gags. Which really, white suits? Overconfident bastards.
“Security room is secure,” Wally says. His voice is an even double through the comms. “Relay the time to breaching.”
“Five minutes,” Bats replies.
“Armory is locked up. There didn’t seem to be any exterior guards, but not promises,” Barry added. There was a soft noise of confirmation back.
Barry crosses his arms, foot tapping. Five minutes was an eternity for a speedster.
“Did you feel it?” Wally asks.
Barry nods. “Coming through the barrier? Yeah.”
Wally nods. “There’s also a feeling of, like, static shock when touching the goons.”
“I just thought that was the ugly carpet.”
“It is really hideous carpet.”
An eternity later, and far too much time staring at the carpet, the rest arrive. After grabbing the hard drive that they hope Technus has moved onto, Barry and Wally speed back to their teams and then forward again, mapping out the facility and taking the odd agent out as they go.
The full alarms are blaring now. The GIW are doing the equivalent of shredding the documents, except it’s trying to wipe data. There are Bats making sure to stop that. That one is easy. Harder is stopping the GIW from destroying the active experiments. From destroying the ghosts that they have pressed into cages and test tubes and machines that Barry doesn’t look too closely at but that turn his stomach.
Most of the human shaped ones rise with a wail as soon as they’re freed. Some vanish. Others swoop through the building. The ghost of a lunch lady embraces another that looks like a dock worker of some sort, but it’s hard to tell with the pieces that hang off him like dripping skin. Something large and white and furry attacks an agent.
Barry doesn’t stop them.
“Flash,” Wally says across the comms. “Left side, big lab.”
The strain in his voice is enough that Barry rushes to his nephew’s location, arms full of weird, blobular ghosts that rumble like purring cats. He’d been grabbing them out of one of the machines—at least grabbing the ones that weren’t… bits of green are stuck to his suit like mashed up jelly. The ghost coo as Barry zips at full speed.
Bits of green go flying as he slams to a stop next to Wally.
One of the blobs rumbles deeper and nuzzles Barry in a weird sort of comfort. Absently, Barry dips his chin down to shield it. He doesn’t look down. He can’t. His eyes are glued to what he’s seeing in the large tube in the center of the room.
“Is that…”
“…It looks like it, right?” Wally asks. His voice isn’t above a whisper. “Danny said they had his core, but I didn’t…”
“How could we?” Barry asks back. Ludicrously, Barry says the first thing that comes to mind. “We’re going to have to move. We don’t have enough bedrooms.”
Wally barks out a surprised laugh and covers his mouth quickly. It’s not the time to be laughing. Barry bites his lip to stop his own, slightly hysterical laugh.
The blobs purr.
The Flashes watch the floating figure in the tube. The figure that has Danny’s face, a glowing sphere in their chest, and fades to nothing before their feet can touch the ground.
boy howdy are you in for a treat! introducing, the Oarfish!
MA! THERE’S A WEIRD FUCKING FISH!
Not much is known about Oarfish. Their maximum length is debatable, though there are reports of specimen up to 56 ft long. They live at great depths, and are rarely observed alive. Here’s a relatively small one:
Slightly larger one:
aaaaand, little bigger:
Yeah. these children get long. hold on a mo’, i might have a better photo
yeah. there we go. a few hundred lbs of Oarfish. like i said, length-variable. that one’s only about 28 feet though. so like, imagine that but double.
look how excited everyone is. well, everyone but the fish. oh, fun fact! they can self-amputate up to 3/4th of their body. lizard style.
Historically, Oarfish have been described as sea serpents, and are probably responsible for a fair portion of myths. In Japanese folklore, their appearance portends earthquakes. Though rarely seen, Oarfish live in every ocean. All around the world. Everywhere. No matter what coastline you’re on, they’re always there. Just a few thousand feet below water. Waiting.
I really hate to say this but like; networking with rich people and convincing them you're cool and competent and have great ideas is actually possibly the single most classic way to get out of poverty that doesn't involve sharp rocks and skulls.
one of the hardest things to learn as a depressed former Gifted Kid™ is that half-assed is better than nothing. take the 50%, 40%, even 20% job. scrubbing your face is better than not taking a shower at all. picking up your clothes is better than never cleaning. nibbling on some bread is better than starving.
DO THINGS HALFWAY. NOW YOU’RE 100% BETTER OFF THAN YOU WERE BEFORE.
One of my college professors used to say “anything worth doing is worth doing poorly.” I didn’t understand that for years because I didn’t do anything poorly, I couldn’t do anything poorly, I had to Do Everything Perfectly.
But brushing your teeth for 30 seconds is better than not brushing them at all when that 2 minutes seems exhausting. Doing ten minutes of yoga is better than 10 minutes of sitting when 30 minutes of cardio sounds impossible. Changing my clothes is good when a whole shower is impossible. Standing on the porch for a few minutes is worth it after being in the house for three straight days because I don’t have the energy to go anywhere.
Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly… because doing it poorly is better than not doing it.
You must understand that perfectionism isn’t striving for excellence, it’s a crippling fear of being flawed and therefore worth abandonment or punishment. It’s a kind of psychological avoidance. You’re avoiding fear and failure , not embracing the thing you want to do bc if it was about the thing you want to do you’d be fine with partial victory.
Woman in front of me in line at the caffe nero changed my life yesterday when she ordered a prosciutto sandwich but pronounced "prosciutto" like it rhymed with mosquito. "Pruh-squee-toe."
I heard this person say "uhhhh yeah can I get a prosquito sandwich please?" and I knew I'd never be the same. Prosquito. Prosquito. Its everything to me. I haven't been able to stop saying that lmfao. This is my spinch. This is my bagel and creem cheems. This is my ranibow sprimkle.
friends and family are already tired of me going crazy over prosquito but its so special to me
identifying a maladaptive coping mechanism is so bitter sweet like that’s great now i know what i need to stop doing. but that’s literally my something
