#Danny phantom paulina | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannahmanderr · 2 years ago

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DannyMay Day 10 - Bones

this one's a long one, but it's important to me :3

Words: 5,380

Summary: Danny stumbles across a ghost unlike any he's met before. Of course he's going to help her reunite with her lost family. (FFN)

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If there was one thing that could make Danny feel better after a long Halloween of fending off ghosts, it was a huge Oreo shake from the Nasty Burger.

He took a long slurp as he walked out the restaurant’s door, savoring the sugary taste. Sam would probably give him an earful for getting such a big shake - tell him he was going to give himself diabetes or something - but he figured his wacky half-ghost metabolism would take care of it.

She just doesn’t get how much energy it takes to maintain two bodies, he joked to himself as he made his way down the sidewalk. True, he could always “eat” ambient emotions to maintain his nutrition, and he’d started adding in daily ectoplasm supplements in his water (or, to Jazz’s horror and his amusement, drinking it straight from the vial), but they couldn’t hold a candle to the joys of sucking down a delicious milkshake.

Besides, he’d had a long night. His parents were definitely right about Halloween night being an annual thinning of the veil between the human and ghost worlds, but contrary to their belief, the ease of passage didn’t attract the more intelligent, try-to-take-over-the-world type of ghosts, especially since they could usually find a way over anyway. Instead, Halloween night helped make the way for the more animalistic, instinct driven ghosts to come over - the ones who normally couldn’t come over as easily.

In some ways, the animalistic types were harder to deal with, Danny mused. Especially since they couldn’t appreciate his witty banter. That was the worst of it.

That aside, though, the animal ghosts could be far more unpredictable with their methods of destruction and terror-inducing. Usually with the ones who could at least talk, he could work out their MO and begin to predict their moves, but not so much with the ones operating purely on instinct. It made for more frustrating, drawn out chases and battles.

Needless to say, he was exhausted. They had been crossing over like crazy last night, and he’d been up tracking them down the whole night. The only blessing was that today was Sunday; he’d slept all morning and into the afternoon, and aside from homework, he could spend the rest of the day lazing around and recovering before school tomorrow. That’s exactly what he intended on doing.

At least, that’s what he had intended, before his ghost sense triggered and he saw the old lady staring into a shop window.

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, straw still in his mouth. The lady was Dead, he knew that easily enough; it was the scene around her that gave him pause. Maybe, rather, the lack of a scene.

For as used to ghosts as the citizens of Amity Park were, they still tended to get a little loud and ever so slightly panicked in the presence of a ghost. The issue here was that the passersby weren’t reacting to the ghost at all.

It couldn’t have been that they didn’t realize the lady was a ghost (she was floating half a foot off the ground and her head was a literal skull, how much more obvious could it be?). In fact, as Danny watched the humans more closely, he realized they didn’t even seem to notice her at all, which was also out of the ordinary.

A young couple dressed in their church clothes walked towards his direction, deep in conversation about some car repair that needed done. Danny almost shouted as the man nearly collided with the ghost, but to his astonishment, the man walked through her. Neither the old lady nor the young man seemed to notice, although the man shivered after emerging from the other side of the ghost’s body.

“Okay, that’s not right,” Danny muttered to himself as the couple passed him. As far as he could tell (and usually he could tell very well), the old lady was neither invisible nor intangible. He couldn’t recall a single instance when a ghost had been able to avoid being seen or touched by a human without using their powers. Unless this was a power he’d never seen before.

So then why could he still see her?

He finally lowered the straw of his shake from his lips and moved towards the ghost. After checking to make sure no one was around to give him weird looks for talking to seemingly thin air, he ventured a tentative, “Hello?”

The lady immediately reacted. She turned towards his voice, and though she had no eyes in her sockets, he could’ve sworn he saw them light up in sync with her growing smile. “¡Qué lindo!” she exclaimed. She put her hands on either side of Danny’s face, and he realized with a start that her hands were skeletal as well. “¡Tu pelo, es como un ángel! Y tus ojos…”

Danny grimaced. He’d taken a year of Spanish back in the eighth grade, but he’d only gotten a B, and he’d definitely forgotten most of it in the two and a half years that had passed since. “Umm, habla… uhh, el English?” he asked, then mentally slapped himself. It would’ve been less rude to just speak entirely in English rather than try and ultimately botch it in Spanish.

To his relief, the lady laughed. “Ah, forgive me, angelito. I was simply stunned by your beautiful hair!” She began running her bony fingers through his hair, and he was surprised by how nice it felt. “Such a pure white! I have never seen anything like it!”

“What?” Danny shrieked. As far as he knew, he hadn’t transformed, and he liked to think he knew pretty well which form he was in at any given time. He grabbed a fistful of his bangs and sighed in relief when he saw the black he expected. “How are you seeing…?”

The lady tilted her head. “You are un espirítu, no? A spirit, like me?”

“I mean, I’m part ghost, if that’s what you mean,” Danny said, shrugging. He didn’t mind admitting it; most ghosts already knew about him anyway, even if it was only because the dead were terrible gossips. “My hair can be white, but it’s definitely black right now.”

“Interesante…” she murmured. She leaned closer to Danny, combing through his hair and examining his face. Normally he would recoil from such probing, but something about the woman resonated with warmth and safety and persuaded him to lean into her touch. In her hands, he felt as if he was wrapped in his favorite blanket and buried in a nest of pillows. The taste of sweet cinnamon inexplicably filled his mouth.

He cleared his throat in an effort to shake himself out of it. “Um, wh-what’s your name?” he said, blinking rapidly.

She took his hands in hers, and he tried to avoid staring at the bones. “You may call me Rosa,” she told him with a warm smile. “Oh! Perhaps you can help me, angelito?”

Even if he didn’t feel the innate Obsessive push to extend his help, there was no way he could deny such a sweet lady. “I can definitely try, what’s up?”

Rosa turned to peer into the window again. “This home, it is supposed to belong to mi nieto, Víctor,” she explained, “but it is empty. Do you know where he is?”

“Uhh…” Danny racked his brain trying to remember if he knew anyone named Víctor, but he drew a blank. “I don’t think so, I’m sorry. Plus I think this building’s been condemned for, like, a year or so. I mean, I should know, I’m pretty sure I’m the one who got thrown into it,” he said, laughing nervously. He thought he’d recognized this house; he’d visited it more than once before one of Ember’s power chords sent him crashing through its roof. “I don’t know if anyone named Víctor lived here, though.”

Rosa’s face fell. “It cannot be,” she whispered. “He and his familia, they were here last time…”

“What do you mean?”

She put a hand against the window, but as he expected, it fell through the glass. She sighed wistfully, then said, “It is the one night of the year I can visit mi familia, but they are not here… and I do not know where to find them…”

“What?” Danny said again, frowning. “The one night? But ghosts come through the portal all the time. Why can’t you visit your family on a different day?”

“Ay, angelito, it is not so simple,” Rosa said. “The gateway from the Spirit World, it is only open tonight - El Día de los Muertos. I have not known anyone who is able to cross over on another night.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Danny muttered. Even as the words left his mouth, though, he thought about how none of the humans seemed to notice her presence, and he began to recall hearing something about Día de los Muertos in that Spanish class he had taken. Something about families making way for their dead family members…

At the same time, though, he still found himself confused. As far as he knew, there was only one dimension for the afterlife, and it was the Infinite Realms. Like he’d told Rosa, ghosts passed into the human world all the time, not just one night of the year. Ghosts that couldn’t cross over were usually held back by their lack of core strength or their distance from portals, not a lack of portals. He couldn’t understand why some ghosts would be arbitrarily prevented from entering the human world all but one day of the year.

He mentally cursed. He knew he should have taken up Frostbite on his offer of lessons on cultures of the Realms.

Rosa turned to him again and gripped his hands harder. “Please, angelito, you must help me find mi familia. I could not bear it if I could not see them… If I could never find them again…”

Both Danny’s heart and core jolted in sympathy. The idea of only being able to visit his parents and Jazz on one night nearly tore him apart. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with that pain.

“Of course I’ll help you,” he told her with a kind smile. “We’ll find your family.”

Rosa’s face lit up again. “¡Gracias, angelito, gracias!” she cried, planting a kiss on his cheek. “How can I ever repay you?”

Danny shrugged. He was still a bit thrown off from the motherly kiss. “Don’t worry about it, really, I don’t mind. I want to help you.”

“I still do not know where to find them,” Rosa said. “This was their home, even after I passed on. I do not know where they could have gone.”

Danny facepalmed quite literally. “Duh!” he said. He’d even remembered that he’d been to this house before just a few minutes ago! How could he have been so stupid?

Checking the streets again for curious human eyes, he darted into the nearby alley, pulling Rosa along with him. Once safe in between the brick walls, he transformed and pushed off the ground.

“I think I might know where they are after all,” he told Rosa. “Follow me!”

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They stopped above a house a few minutes away. It was in the same neighborhood Danny and his family had lived in for all of a couple of weeks that time his parents were convinced to sell out to the GIW. Definitely an affluent area, and not one he tended to visit often. Even the ghosts usually stayed away from here.

Rosa eyed the two-story house warily. “Are you sure this is where mi familia is?” she asked.

Danny scratched his head. “I’m pretty sure? I haven’t exactly had a chance to visit since they moved - or had a reason to visit, I guess - but I’m almost positive this is the house they moved into.”

“What if it isn’t?” she said, wringing her skeletal hands in worry. “The gateway will be closing soon, and if I do not return in time, I will fade away, but I must see them again, I must! I will also fade if I cannot see them!”

“It’s okay, Rosa,” Danny soothed. “If they’re not in here, we’ll just start checking the other houses on the block. I know they moved somewhere on this street. You’ll get to see them, I promise.”

She stared at the house for another long moment (at least he assumed she did. The lack of eyes made it a bit difficult to tell). “Bueno,” she whispered. “We will look and see.”

“Just remember that I’m not like you,” Danny cautioned. “I have to actually think about it to keep the humans from seeing and hearing me, not like you. I won’t be able to say anything if they’re around without them knowing.”

Rosa nodded. “Sí, sí. It will not be a problem, angelito.

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Paulina Sánchez pulled a tray from the oven. “Papá!” she called. “The pan de dulce is done!”

Her father entered the kitchen and looked over her shoulder at the steaming sweet bread. “Perfecto, mi amor,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “Your bisabuela will love it.”

Paulina smiled down at the tray, though it weighed heavy on her face. “Pan de dulce was always her favorite,” she said quietly.

“I remember when you were just a little girl,” Mr. Sánchez said as she set the tray on the counter and began transferring the little pastries into a wicker basket. “You and your bisabuela were making the pan de dulce one year, and you stole the cocoa powder right out from under her nose. She didn’t know you had taken it until you tried to eat some and you spat it out all over the floor because it was so bitter!” He chuckled jovially.

“Sí, I remember,” Paulina nodded as she put the last of the sweet bread into the basket. “Mamá was so angry with me! She almost didn’t let me help Bisabuela the next year.” Picking up the basket, she smiled up at her father. “Will you help me put it on the altar?”

“Of course, mi amor.”

Their eyes snapped to a belt hanging across the back of one of the barstools as the radio attached to it crackled to life. A staticky voice started speaking, and though Paulina couldn’t quite make out what it was saying, her heart sank to her stomach when she saw her father’s face drop.

“Scratch that,” he said, picking up the belt. The joy had drained from his voice in an instant. “You’ll have to do it without me.”

“Papá, you can’t! It’s Día de los Muertos, it’s supposed to be a family day! Mamá already had to be in Prague this weekend; you promised you wouldn’t have to go out tonight.”

“I know, mi amor, I know,” Mr. Sánchez said. He strapped the belt around his waist and began adjusting all of the equipment hanging off of it. “I didn’t know Jerry was going to call in sick today, and he was supposed to be the one on call tonight. I don’t want to go, but I have to.” He straightened the APPD badge on his chest and moved over to Paulina to envelop her in a hug.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” he said, pressing a kiss into his daughter’s hair. “You can finish setting up the altar while I’m gone, and then when I get back we’ll park ourselves there for the rest of the night.”

“Sí, Papá,” she muttered into her dad’s chest. He let her go and jogged out of the kitchen, leaving his sullen daughter behind.

Paulina sighed and looked down at the basket of pan de dulce in her hands. The topping had begun to harden and create the cracked pattern she knew well. It needed to get put onto the altar before it cooled down too much and lost its scent.

She pulled open the sliding glass door that opened into the backyard and stepped outside. It was uncharacteristically warm for Amity Park at this time of year, but she didn’t mind. She liked the warmer weather; it reminded her of what little she could remember of her childhood years spent in México. Plus it made for the perfect opportunity to set up their altar for Día de los Muertos outdoors.

She was careful to avoid stepping on the path of bright orange marigold petals she’d carefully laid out earlier that afternoon as she walked towards the back hedges, where they’d chosen to set up the altar. A few candles also lined the path, though she hadn’t lit them yet.

When she reached the hedges and the altar, she set the basket of pan on the spot she’d saved for it, making sure it sat just so. She was Paulina Sánchez; she would not be known for anything less than perfection. And, she decided as she surveyed her handiwork, the altar was as close to perfection as it would get.

Dozens of candles lit the tiers of the altar, casting the whole setup in a soft, warm glow. Even more marigold petals covered the altar’s surfaces, and she’d chosen to put a few whole flower heads on some of the edges. Colorful papel picado lined the edges of the altar tiers, and a string of the papers Paulina had spent hours cutting the day before hung over the entire altar. The basket of pan de dulce sat on the lowest tier, right next to a bowl of oranges, pears, and bananas - her Bisabuela’s favorite fruits. She’d also placed a variety of nuts she knew her Bisabuela had liked on the altar. A bottle of tequila sat to the side. On the tier above the food, Paulina had put a few of the calaveras de azúcar her mother had prepared before leaving for Prague. They grinned up at her, guarding the other things that had been placed on the tier - some of her Bisabuela’s most important belongings, like the pocketwatch her husband had given her before they left México and some of the old journals she’d written in up to the day she died. The top tier held the photo of her Bisabuela, smiling serenely at the camera and framed in an ornate faux gold. Paulina had wrapped the base of the frame with the bright fuchsia shawl her Bisabuela had worn nearly every day for as long as she could remember, and more marigolds swaddled the shawl.

All in all, it wasn’t quite as extravagant as some of the altars they’d decorated in years past, but with Mamá out of the country and the risk of the altar accidentally getting destroyed in a ghost attack, they’d decided to go with a bit of a simpler design. She was still pleased with the end result.

She only hoped her Bisabuela was pleased, too.

Paulina sighed and sat down cross-legged in front of the altar. Ever since the ghosts started showing up, she’d held out hope that her Bisabuela would come back to Amity Park and visit her and her parents. As days passed without seeing her, though, she lost her hope, and, though she hated to admit it, she began losing faith that her Bisabuela’s spirit was even out there in the first place.

Still though, she tried to convince herself otherwise. Maybe her spirit was farther away than some of the rest of the ghosts that usually showed up. Maybe the bad ghosts kept the good ghosts from getting through.

There had been a scary bit of time when ghosts first showed themselves in Amity Park. At that point, only evil, havoc-wreaking ghosts had been doing anything, and they rampaged the town and freaked everyone out for a week or so. She’d been horrified to learn that the rantings of the Fentons were true, and of course she’d barely had any time to come to terms with it before she’d (apparently) been possessed. In that short period of time, though, she couldn’t help but wonder if her sweet, loving Bisabuela had had her spirit turned into something awful like the ghosts attacking the town.

Then Phantom had shown up and rescued her, and her faith in gentle spirits was restored.

The fact that he’d proven to her that ghosts could be good and rescued her from possession twice played a huge part in her crush on him. It was embarrassing to admit something that seemed so frivolous to her friends; it was much easier to just sit at the lunch table and gush about how hot the ghost boy was. The other popular kids didn’t know how important the existence of good ghosts was to her. They couldn’t understand.

She put her elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her hand, staring longingly at the framed photo of her Bisabuela. More than once, she’d considered the merits of cornering Phantom and convincing him to take her to the ghost world to see if she could find her Bisabuela’s spirit, but she’d dismissed the idea each time. Not only was he way too difficult to track down and have a discussion with (her attempts to invite him to her quinceñera were proof enough), but she had a feeling he’d immediately shut the idea down, citing danger as the reason.

And so now she was here, in her backyard, spending her first Día de los Muertos in this house alone, not even knowing if her Bisabuela’s spirit would even see the altar - or even see any of the altars they’d made. It was soul-crushing, to say the least, especially having grown up hearing people preach the importance of the holiday.

A cold breeze ruffled through the yard, causing the flames of the candles to flicker and the papel picado to rustle. She shivered and pulled her sweater tighter against herself. Maybe it’d been a mistake to set the altar up outside.

Surprisingly, the breeze didn’t extinguish the candles. In fact, as she watched them, they looked taller than ever. And brighter.

She stood in alarm. Too tall. The flames were getting dangerously strong. She turned to run inside and grab the fire extinguisher under the kitchen sink -

- and promptly collided with the ghost boy.

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“Someone’s leaving,” Danny said needlessly. An APPD squad car peeled out of the driveway and down the road, lights and sirens going.

Rosa gasped. “Víctor,” she whispered. His name sounded like a prayer on her lips (or lack thereof, what with the whole skull thing). “He was in the police school when I passed… Is he an officer now?”

“I think so,” Danny said, drifting closer to the roof. “It was part of the reason I was so scared of him when I showed up to pick up Paulina for the dance my freshman year.”

“Ay, Víctor…” she said again. Danny didn’t need to look at her to know she was beaming with pride; he could hear it in her voice.

“Come on,” he said, pointing towards the house with his head. “Maybe Mrs. Sánchez and Paulina are still inside.”

He took Rosa’s hand and turned himself invisible and intangible, then guided her through the wall. She recoiled as they approached, but relaxed once they were inside. Danny figured she didn’t have much experience with the whole intangibility part of being a ghost, what with spending so much time in the Realms (assuming she was another kind of ghost, and assuming she lived somewhere in the Realms the other 364 days of the year).

Together, they flew methodically through each room of the house. Though Rosa became more and more comfortable with passing through the walls each time, she grew more and more desperate with each room they passed through that did not have one of her family members.

“No, no,” she muttered, grasping at her cheeks. Danny’s stomach turned just slightly when her fingers went into her eye sockets. “They are not here… I will not get to see them… mi familia, mi corazón…”

Danny didn’t respond. He couldn’t speak from fear of one of the Sánchezes //hearing and flipping out, or worse, calling his parents. He really did not feel like traumatizing a sweet old lady with his parents’ shenanigans tonight.

He settled for giving Rosa’s hand a comforting squeeze and continuing to lead her through the rooms.

“Wait,” Rosa said, stopping dead in the downstairs hall. “Do you smell that?”

Danny took a deep inhale. “Yeah… It smells really good, what is it?”

“Pan de dulce!” she exclaimed, and before he could react, she became the guide and dragged him in her wake.

“Rosa, wait!” he risked hissing. He was surprised when she actually came to a stop again, in the kitchen, though he had to press the brakes hard to avoid running her over.

It took him a minute to realize that she hadn’t stopped because of him, though. She stared out the sliding glass door that led to the backyard, and when Danny followed her gaze, he saw Paulina sitting in front of a beautiful display of some sort.

“What is that?” he whispered, forgetting himself for a moment. He figured he was probably safe, what with a glass door in between the two of them and Paulina.

“They still made an altar for me,” Rosa said. Her voice wavered, making her sound like she was seconds away from bawling. “Ellos todavía recuerdan… No han cambiado…”

Danny didn’t understand the last part of what she said, but he figured she was happy judging from the sound of her voice and her gentle smile. He flicked his gaze between Rosa and Paulina a few times, then asked her, “Do you… wanna get closer to her?”

Rosa’s face brightened momentarily, then dropped. “No,” she said. The melancholy dripped from the single word. “She cannot see me, or hear me. Mi corazón almost broke tonight. I do not think I could bear any more pain.”

As much as her words broke his own heart, he could understand where she was coming from. His mind flashed to his parents and how they still remained oblivious to his secret. Not by any fault of their own, he always insisted, even if Sam or Tucker or Jazz tried to convince him otherwise. The blame was his own.

He too didn’t know if he could bear the pain if he told them and something went horribly wrong.

Still though, the sparks of a Danny Fenton Idea (trademark pending) began to pop in the back of his mind. It was incredibly stupid, and it had the potential to go completely awry. So basically no different than most of his other ideas, although this one put both Rosa and Paulina at risk.

“You know,” he said slowly, still wondering if this was the right thing to do, “she can interact with me.”

Rosa’s head turned toward him with a sharp crack of her vertebrae.

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Paulina couldn’t believe it.

Danny Phantom. Her beloved Ghost Boy. Here, at her house.

And all she could do was gape like a fish.

Phantom grabbed his bicep and looked everywhere except at Paulina once he seemed to realize that she wasn’t about to speak anytime soon. “I, uhh,” he stammered, clearly unsure how to keep the situation from becoming any more awkward than it already had.

Lucky for him, she found the awkwardness oddly endearing.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I was - well, I was just out and about and, erm, I kind of ran into someone - not literally of course, just a figure of speech, I mean I - I would never -”

She couldn’t help it. She giggled at Phantom’s inability to articulate himself. It completely wrecked the image of her valiant knight in shining armor, but in a way, she preferred this side to him. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was one of the less popular boys at school trying to work up the nerve to ask her out.

Not to mention his face was absolutely adorable once she started giggling. The way his eyes grew enormous and his face flushed green was totally unlike the hot version of himself that got talked about in school, but he pulled it off well.

“¡Lo siento!” she said in between giggles. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you! I’ve just never seen you so flustered!”

He blinked once, twice before his face relaxed and he let out a few nervous laughs of his own. “Yeah, sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t exactly think through what I was gonna say before I came out here…”

“It’s okay,” Paulina reassured. “Why don’t you start over?”

Phantom watched her carefully before cracking a crooked grin. “I can do that.” He blew out a puff of air, which was so unlike a ghost it almost sent her into a fit of giggles again.

“Long story short,” he began. “I ran into someone earlier today, someone who knows you. She was kind of lost though - like, looking for you at your old house. I thought I’d bring her over to say hi.”

Paulina furrowed her brow. “Really? Mamá made me make sure to tell everyone that we had to move. Who would’ve been looking for me at our old house?”

“Well, not everyone realized you moved, apparently.”

“Oh no,” she said. Her stomach dropped a little. She hated to think that she’d forgotten to tell someone important such a huge detail and that they’d been living under false information for months at this point. “I feel terrible! Who is it? Where are they?”

He ran his hand through his hair again. “That’s kind of the catch. You can’t really see her; only I can, apparently.” He nodded towards the altar with his gaze fixed just above her head. She followed his line of sight to -

Her heart skipped a beat. “Bisabuela?” she whispered. Did she dare to even entertain the thought?

Phantom looked to the empty space to his right. After a long moment, he said, “She wants me to tell you that you look beautiful as ever.” His face flushed even brighter green as he delivered the message.

Paulina hesitated. On one hand, this was a literal dream come true. Her Ghost Boy guiding her Bisabuela to her altar on Día de los Muertos, after going for so long wondering if her spirit was truly out there, it was too good to be true.

That’s what gave her pause.

“How… how do I know… she’s really here?” she asked tentatively. She didn’t want to give Phantom the impression that she didn’t believe him, but she had to make sure. She needed to know for certain.

He winced and scratched his shoulder. “Well, I - uhh,” he stuttered. After a couple of seconds, his face lit up again and he turned back to the empty space beside him. “What’s something that only you would know? Or think to tell her?”

As she waited for him to give her the answer, her heart raced. She didn’t doubt that he had a spirit there next to him, but what if it wasn’t her Bisabuela? What if it was someone else, and a mistake had been made? She didn’t know -

“Okay, I think I’ve got it?” Phantom said, though his uncertainty didn’t ease Paulina’s nerves. “She said - Ancients, I’m gonna botch the pronunciation here - she wants me to ask you… ‘¿estás robando más cacao en polvo hoy en día?’”

Paulina fell to her knees, tears falling freely and silently down her cheeks.

“Estás aquí,” she whispered. “You’re really here…”

Phantom hovered over her anxiously. “Oh jeez, I’m - are you alright? I didn’t know…”

Still crying, she sprang up abruptly and into the space where Phantom had been looking before. “Bisabuela, ¿dónde estás?” she blubbered, not caring that she’d completely fallen back into her native Spanish, not caring that her mascara was totally running, not caring that she was probably making herself look like a fool in front of her crush.

Of course, she received no response, but then, just when she was about to ask Phantom for another message, she felt the comfort of a blanket wrapped around her and the taste of cinnamon filled her mouth.

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay2023 #dannymay 2023 #danny fenton #paulina #danny phantom paulina #dia de los muertos #mexican #anyway i've always loved learning about dia de los muertos #and paulina deserves good character development

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