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Zombie Apocalypse AU where somebody made the z virus thing everything goes Downhill as expected. Except for the states of Illinois, Wisconsin, and one town in Arkansas.

Why, you ask?

Because zombie instincts include: eat people and gtf away from anything that smells like a more dangerous undead creatures territory.

That's right. Vlad and Damny, who absolutely hate each other, have to go on a zombie filled road trip to destroy whatever is turning people into zombies.

They can do that! Can they avoid killing each other on the way?

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How do you like your ectoplasm?

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Multi-dimensional villains trying to take over Danny Phantoms universe: why are non of my tactics working?

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Some fanart for one of my favorite fanfictions, Wrong Summoning by RusEmp, wherein Danny is accidentally summoned to Nirn by a cultist. Shenanigans ensue.

l kid you not, I think about this fic almost every week.

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A new cover photo for my sister’s fanfiction, wherein baby Harry Potter goes to live with Lilly’s cousin, Maddie instead of Petunia. Now instead of being the Chosen One of one prophecy, he’s the Chosen One of two. Chaos ensues.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13359057/1/Harry-James-Fenton-The-boy-who-lived-kinda

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Feel like Danny Phantom could have gotten the soul stone on Vormir by having someone push him off the cliff in human form and then going ghost at the last second and like what is anyone gonna do about it? He’s a ghost, he died, he wins, not like you can sue him or anything

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Look, does Danny Phantom steal a lot of its concepts and tropes from DC and Marvel superhero comics? Yes. Is that a problem? Not when it means that Danny can pop up in a superhero crossover and just go "oh you too, huh?".

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I know I've said it before but I'm saying it again, I just absolutely adore how Danny's eyes glow green in human form when he's getting particularly mischievous, not just when he's especially angry

Like this boy has a built in warning signal for when he's about to be a little menace to society and I love that for him

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drawing suggestion if you want: little baby man, if he fits he sits, in weird places like cats do. in a tiny box, shoe, pringles can, etc

Genuinely horrifying

Bbys

Huh? What? Huh? no you didn't see anything

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just saying i prefer my food-based crimes to be more "heisting $1 million worth of syrup from the Canadian Maple Syrup Reserve" and less "corporations giving toddlers listeria for fun and profit"

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Alfred: Timothy Jackson Drake. Tim: Full name....omg, am I going to die? Dick: It was nice knowing you Timmy. Damian: Don't lie to a dead man walking, Richard. Timothy, your existence in our lives was ambivalent at best. Tim: Thank you for your honesty, Dami. It's a comfort in my final moments. Alfred: Stop being so dramatic; you won't die today. I'm not mad; I'm disappointed in you. Tim wince: That's far worse. What did I do? Alfred: It's more like what you didn't do. Why is it that every morning, you do not find the five minutes it takes to make your bed? Tim: *confused* What do you mean? Alfred: Your bedroom is usually spotless, but you never fix your blankets or your pillows, and it makes everything look awful. I have tried to ignore it, in the hope that you will learn some responsibility, but I can no longer stand it. Tim: But I've never done my bed. It's always been done for me. Alfred: Whatever servants you had at Drake Manor are not here- Tim: I never had servants. It was just my parents, and most of the time, they weren't even in the country. I mean, the housekeeper came by every three days or so, but she never went into my room. Alfred: Wait, if you didn't make your bed and there were no servants to make it, then how was it done? Tim: It made itself, duh. Dick: Would you like to expand on that answer for the class, Timmy? Tim: Come on Dick you know what I mean. The sheets move on their own and tuck themselves in, or the pillows constantly rearrange themselves. Sometimes, on a cold night, the blankets will emerge from the closet and wrap around you. Every day, bedroom stuff. Dick: Damian: Timothy, I believe you were being haunted as a child. Tim: What? Alfred: Did anyhing else stop happening when you moved out of your old home? Tim snapping his fingers: Now that you mention it, nothing whispers in my ears anymore. Dick: You were hearing whispers!? Tim: It was mostly gibbersish and hisses so I always ingored it. The ghost should have learn to not mutter. Danny, reading their lips from the Drake Manor window using binoculars: Well, excuse me for having a speaking impediment.

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You're drawing art based on your favorite fandom, but then you come across a Russian song in your playlist and it completely changes the whole point of the drawing

The KINO - Pack of Cigaretts

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:')

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careers in science & academia are so Cassandra-coded. you possess a Great and Burdensome Knowledge (at heavy cost*), which is both its own reward and its own punishment. and no one fucking listens to you

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SOMEONE GET HIM OFF THE MIC!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP HIM

comm'd by anonymous for @ectoplasmranch's ywlma fic!

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