Read my Danny Phantom fanfic: Trust Your Instincts

A new kind of danger threatens Amity Park. With no other leads, Maddie Fenton turns to the one individual that might be able to help: Danny Phantom. Meanwhile, after a near death experience, she begins to question everything she knows about ghosts.

AO3 - FFN

Prologue

Dust and debris swirled in the air above her. Maddie stumbled to her feet, only to brace herself on the countertop as a wave of dizziness overcame her. Everything hurt: that dull ache in her bones she sometimes got when it was too cold as she slept.

What…happened…?

Little green stars dotted her vision. Maddie blinked, trying to get them to go away. They didn’t.

Keep reading

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ikiracake:

I don’t know if I’ll ever write this, but I’ve been toying with the idea of a Danny Phantom fic where Danny ends up in a fantasy world through some unknown means, and he gets picked up by a trio of knights who take him in and try to help him get back home.

The complication is that they don’t speak English, and Danny can’t actually understand what they’re saying and vice versa. Still, they work together, despite the language barrier, to get out of the magical wilderness (Danny absolutely helps them fight a dragon and/or other magical creatures, using his powers to protect the knights, and to his surprise they fight to protect him and rescue him from danger just as often) and back to the fantasy city. There, the knights take Danny to a temple that seems to be devoted to the worship of a familiar ghostly figure.

(I hadn’t decided if it was Clockwork or Danny himself as Ghost King that was being worshipped there. Either way the plot twist was that Danny was actually in the distant future, where the bond between the Ghost Zone and the living world had strengthened to the point that magic had returned to the living world. Clockwork or Future Ghost King Danny would then appear to Danny and help return him home after he has a chance to say goodbye to his knight friends, who are basically knights sworn to the service of Clockwork/Ghost King Danny, whichever it is, and they knew all along who Danny really was)

Danny returns home having had a relatively calm and peaceful adventure for once, and with fond memories of his new friends who he knows he’ll meet again someday.

My two most popular posts so far this year are about a laminator and the invisible wall of executive dysfunction. I am sensing a pattern here.

peachdoxie:

I love “Tim Joins the Batfam Early” fics because they’re like

Tim: *does something absolutely insane as a ten-year-old*

Bruce: ooh I can’t not adopt him

Sometimes it’s also

Tim: *does something absolutely insane as a ten-year-old*

Jason: ooh I can’t not force Bruce to adopt him

artsymeeshee:

Another themed outfit for the Pines, this time cherry blossoms 🌸!!

✍️ Danny!

probably-dead:

✍️ ask game!

THE BOY ‼️‼️

guttedtangerines:

fly away ghost boy 👻

danny design by @nicktoonsunite

worldwithinworld:

sweatersexual:

You know what would make Kaladin & Szeth’s road trip to Shinovar even more awkward? Lirin inviting himself along

I love that WAT let us know that this would only have been awkward for Kaladin and Lirin. Szeth would have found a dad coming along on a mission to be perfectly normal.

almightyworm:

Szeth-son-son-Vallano, Truthless of Shinovar, wore white on the day he killed the most awful man in Roshar ❤️

pocketramblr:

pocketramblr:

Trying to imagine, like, being the artist the us government commissions to make a statue in memorial of Superman’s death, like. You’re probably from Metropolis. A ton of your city was destroyed by Doomsday and you just watched Superman die live on TV. And now you have to sculpt Superman’s six pack while crying out of grief and working as fast as you can because you have to get this thing done on short notice for his funeral because apparently they’re going to put his literal actual body under your art. The government says you have to put an eagle on it. Superman is dead, so many other people are too ,and you have to sculpt his six pack and a bald eagle.

This isn’t to touch the fact that, like, almost immediately after your art goes up, it becomes the site for multiple cults to Superman to worship, on account of his literal body being put there, for some reason, under the sculpture and six pack and eagle that you made. And then his body gets stolen, not once, but twice, because again, the us government put it in a public park, under your giant shiny statue. Superman’s body has been stolen, and there’s cults worshiping and rioting under the face of bronze that you cast because apparently it’s the next best thing, more than the actual site of his death, more than chasing down the not one not two not three but four new imposter supermen. Nope. It’s your statue that you made while crying, it’s the statue that made sure you could afford rent even with the housing crisis after Doomsday, it’s the statue the us government paid for while some of them were actively stealing Superman’s body that first time, it’s the statue that went up in a week while the design you submitted for a memorial with a list of all of Doomsday’s victims sits forgotten on someone’s desk.

mightyflamethrower:

Daniella Willett-Rabin

“Atlanta”

crime-scene-psychic:

I’m forever thinking about the time Dick lived in Chicago and for like two issues straight a secondary conflict for him was that his roommates kept closing his bedroom window while he was out as Nightwing

superbatsfam:

jason’s favorite hobby is sneaking up on his loved ones. he loves to see how long it takes them to notice him.

he breaks into dick’s apartment while he’s busy and jason is honestly shocked how clueless dick is. how are you a vigilante and don’t notice someone breaking in. after 3 hours, he just decides to make dick lunch and sets it beside him at the desk, dick almost has a heart attack.

mentallyunawareofpapaya:

Dick Tim Damian and Jason getting carried away during an all out sibling argument that breaks out during a public gala and they forget they have an audience to the point where Damian starts spitting his ‘i am the blood son of Bruce Wayne you have nothing on me you imbeciles’ and without thinking Jason responds with ‘yeah you’re the son of Brucie Wayne all right but you forget I’m the son of fucking BATMAN and i have been since before you were even fucking PUBLIC KNOWLEDGE’

Damian: I AM THE BLOOD CHILD OF BRUCE WAYNE YOU PATHETIC CREATURE

Jason, fully about to fist fight his little brother in front of these shrimp platters: AND I’M THE SON OF BATMAN, WHILE YOU WERE TAUGHT HOW TO SIP CHAMPAGNE AND FALL INTO FOUNTAINS I WAS TAUGHT HOW TO THROW HANDS NOW FUCKING SQUARE UP CHILD

Dick, eyeing the now silent ballroom: uh, guys-

Tim, vibrating with excitement at the prospect of watching Damian get a ceramic plate to the face: don’t you fucking dare stop them

lacking context, Gotham is now under the impression that Jason Todd was not, in fact, a random street kid taken under Bruce’s wing, and is rather the biological son of Batman, who for some reason got his good friend Bruce Wayne to become the kid’s guardian, presumably to protect him from the life of crime he is leading. it also fuels the ‘Bruce Wayne is dating Batman’ rumours an almost impossible amount.

Another unforeseen consequence is that since it is common knowledge that the batkid vigilantes are most likely Batman’s children too, civilian Jason Todd is now considered to be the adopted brother of Tim, Damian, and Dick, and the biological brother of Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin.

Jason is asked who his favourite sibling is.

‘ok they all suck apart from Hood. he’s such a nice man. used to take me ice skating.’

the family hate him.

letswonderspirit:

⚽️🏃—-

natalieironside:

natalieironside:

I propose that a story dealing primarily with a tragedy’s aftermath be called an antigonian story. I think this is a good idea for lots of reasons but primarily because a story dealing primarily with the tragedy’s advent would by analogy be oedipal and I should like to see that usage surpass the dumb, bad one that dumb old Freud came up with

I just really like Sophocles and stories about the aftermath of tragedy and really hate that dumb old pervert Sigmund Freud