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#Wally Martin
filmjunky-99 · 9 days
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s h i v e r s, 1975 🎬 dir. david cronenberg
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looks-at-you · 7 months
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Pov: someone asks you about the blorbos moodboard
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general-fanfiction · 1 year
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Don’t Trust Him. (Wally Clark x Reader)
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Summary: With Rhonda, Charlie and Wally trapped in the fallout shelter, Y/N is their only way out.
Word Count: 2,727
Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!
Warnings - Violence, Swearing?
A/N - So I know technically the ghosts don’t bleed but I felt like it was slightly better in this situation if they did so let’s just pretend they do. I also apologise for how rushed this is, I really just wanted to get something posted.
Before I died, my knowledge of ghosts was based on what I’d seen in movies. Completely fictional. Turns out there is no way of communicating with the  living, nor any way of possession or torment. Not even a way of leaving the place you died. Unless you’re the exception. Which in my case, turns out I am the exception. It’s funny, in life I was very much average, no different from the other thousands of kids attending Split River High. Though in death, I’m powerful. Able to leave the place that the others are stuck, able to speak with the living if only for short periods of time. Mr Martin tells me I’m a vessel. That I should be careful because other ghosts may attempt to take advantage of my unique skills. However, I haven’t had any issues so far. In fact, I’ve done my best to help those trapped here to heal old wounds. Allowing them to forgive.
I’ve been here since 2007, over a decade and yet I’m still the newest ghost. Rhonda died in the sixties, Dawn the seventies, Wally the eighties and Charlie the nineties. Not that I mind, as much as we’re a weird bunch, we’re friends. Hell, I consider them family at this point as we have done nothing but support one another since dying. Wally even more so. He made a point of helping me get settled when I died. Sticking by me through all my meltdowns and the struggles I faced when coming to terms with the powers that I held. It’s safe to say we grew close.
So close in fact, that we’ve been dating for the past seven years. Contrary to popular belief, Wally is fairly shy and so it did take a good few years before either of us dared to confess our feelings. I can’t complain though, we’d been going to homecoming together for years at that point and as we lay on the field gazing up at the stars, he finally asked me to be his girlfriend. What followed was a pretty eventful night fuelled by passion and desire. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Which brings me to the present day, returning from my trip to the grocery store, I wander aimlessly around the hallways. Hoping to find Rhonda, Charlie and Wally, however, they are nowhere to be found. I must admit, the empty hallways are pretty eerie, with Dawn gone the air feels heavier. She brought a certain lightness to the school that can’t be replaced.
Entering the basement, I find myself swinging the shopping bag slightly. Attempting to give myself a confidence boost by acting as though it’s a happy, cheery place to be. Despite residing here for all the years, I’ve never once found myself in the basement, so as much as I am creeped out, I do use this opportunity to be nosy and explore everything on the shelves. Nothing peaks my interest though. Dusty old paint pots and garden tools aren’t exactly my idea of entertainment.
At that moment I begin to hear yells and shouts for help. My head spins in the direction it’s coming from and only then do I notice the huge metal door tucked into the wall. Hesitantly stepping towards it, the shouts get louder, pleading for help. The voices sounding very familiar to those of my friends.
“Wally?” I ask, feet pushing me towards the door a lot faster as I realize who is yelling. “Rhonda? Charlie? Is that you?”
Pushing on the door, I try to move the latch but for whatever reason it is completely sealed shut. No movement whatsoever. It doesn’t matter which way I attempt to pull or twist, the latch isn’t budging. My brows furrow in confusion as I try to work out how this could have happened. The door is old but not old enough to become so stuck that it is impossible to open.
“Y/N!” Wally calls out, relief evident in his voice. “Y/N, we’re completely stuck, the back hatch is locked too.”
“It’s okay. I’m here, I’ll get you out.” I tell them, still pulling on the door, though my eyes shift around the room, hoping to find a crowbar or any sort of object that may help me.
“Y/N, be careful! You can’t trust him!” Rhonda shouts, her voice panicked, the first time I’ve heard her sound genuinely scared.
“Trust who?”
Before my question is answered, the basement door swings open and I see a shadow looming over me at the top of the stairs. The shopping bag slips from my hand, glass bottles smashing against the floor as I realize who Rhonda was warning me about. Mr Martin’s friendly demeanor is gone, appearing menacing and dangerous as he makes eye contact with me. Shuffling backwards slightly, I keep my eyes on him. Trying to calculate his next move.
“Y/N, do you remember our little chat?” Mr Martin asks, slowly descending the stairs with his hands clasped together, truly looking like a villain.
“I’m not sure which chat you’re talking about, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”
Each step Mr Martin takes towards me, I take a step back, putting as much space between us as I possibly can. Unable to contain it, I feel my body trembling, the sounds of my friends pounding on the door simply heightens my nerves. Their shouts fill me with dread and I do my best to remain calm, to remain observant. Mr Martin feels like a predator, stalking me as if I’m prey. Was he always like this? Were we all fooled by his supportive teacher act?
“A short while ago, I talked to you about your uniqueness.” He starts, throwing a sharp glare towards the metal door that my friends are trapped behind. “You told me that you wouldn’t use your gifts to benefit others. Clearly you are not a girl of your word.”
He talks slowly, I’m assuming to get some sort of reaction out of me. If I react on impulse, he is in control. I can’t let that happen. If he gains control of this situation, there is no way I can help Wally and Rhonda and Charlie.
“I don’t think I’ve really used it to benefit anyone other than myself.”
“Peach iced tea. Is that not Rhonda’s favorite beverage? Plus, I know for a fact that pack of jelly doughnuts is for Wally.” Mr Martin points out, reaching down to the shopping bag on the floor and rummaging through it to see its contents.
“If I’m going to the store, I’m going to pick up their favorite things. That’s called being a decent person.” I respond, feeling my back touch the shelves that line the walls as I continue to step away from Mr Martin. “They’ve been stuck here long enough, they deserve good things.”
He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes and ultimately feels incredibly forced. Continuing to make his way towards me, I know he thinks he has me cornered. He thinks I am trapped in the room with him. Little does he know he has made one major mistake. If there is one thing about me, it is that I am insanely loyal and I will do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about. Right now, those people are trapped behind that stupid metal door, and there is nothing I won’t do to get them out.
“You know Mr Martin, I think you’re just jealous.”
“Y/N what the fuck are you doing?” Wally shouts, the banging on the door becoming more frequent as I sense he is becoming increasingly more panicked.
“Jealous?” Mr Martin questions, an expression of confusion on his face as he obviously didn’t expect me to steer the conversation in this direction. “Jealous of what Y/N?”
My hand snakes behind me at a snail’s pace, ensuring that he doesn’t catch the movement and spoil my plan. I just need to stall slightly, catch him off guard and then if all goes well, I should have them out in no time. Then I can stop worrying, especially about Wally. I know he’s only on the other side of that door but it feels like he is one million miles away.
“Well, you’re the only teacher here. Stuck with a bunch of teenagers, must be hard right? I’m sure you feel isolated and alone. Especially when one such teenager has powers that you can only dream of having. Powers that she uses to get her friends and boyfriend their favorite snacks or new books and films.”
“You think I’m jealous that you use your gifts on something so trivial?” Mr Martin questions, stepping towards me once more so we are practically inches apart. “Trust me Y/N, if I had the gifts that you hold, I would be using them to guide myself to the light. To cross over. Not you though, you’re just a stupid little girl that wastes talent on a bunch of people that do not care about you and are only using you for your gifts. I mean do you really think Wally would be sticking around with you if you weren’t able to bring him little treats? Though I suppose you did spread your legs for him the moment you arrived so who really knows.”
With a sigh, my hand takes a firm hold of the paint pot handle. “I really wish you hadn’t just said that.”
With a sharp swing I aim the paint pot directly at Mr Martin’s head, hitting him right above his ear. A pained groan escapes his mouth as he is knocked off balance, planting his hand against the wall so that he doesn’t fall to the ground. Sure, he can’t die twice, but I’m certain that I can at least knock him out for a while. As I go to swing the pot again, his forearm blocks my blow. Sending the pot clattering to the floor.
“Well now I’m angry.” He states, giving me no time to react as he grabs the end of one of the smashed glass bottles swiping at me with the sharp end.
Despite finding reassurance in the fact that I can’t die twice, I still wince at the feeling of the glass drag directly across my cheek. Cut opening, I feel the blood dripping down my cheek and in the one moment that I reach up to hold my wound, Mr Martin strikes again. Blunt end of the bottle hitting the back of my head sending me crashing to the ground. Grunting softly as I hit the floor with a thud.
“Y/N!” Wally bellows, worry laced in his voice and guilt floods through me as I hate to put him through this. “Y’N be careful, please. Y/N!”
Rhonda and Charlie are shouting as well, pain in their voices as they are evidently stressed out not knowing what is going on and only being able to hear the sounds of our fight. It must be hard having no indication of who is winning.
Flipping myself so that I am no longer facing the ground, I watch as Mr Martin stands over me. Dropping himself into a crouch, his fingers brush a stray hair out of my face. A wicked smirk settled on his face.
“Such a pretty face, too bad nobody else will get to see it.”
A rush of energy pulses through my body and with all the strength I can muster, I manage to stretch my arm out to grab the paint pot. Repeatedly hitting the teacher over the head with it and I feel little splatters of blood coat my face and body as he collapses to the floor. When I see no sign of movement, I begin to search through his jacket pockets. Whether that’s for a key or a key code, I’m not too sure. Though, I’m hoping when I find it, I’ll know.
With just my luck, a key slips into my hand, just in time for me to watch his body disappear as he resets to wherever he died. I’m unsure of how long he will be out and so for now I ignore my injuries focusing on finding any sort of lockbox.
“I’ve got a key. Any idea where it’s supposed to go?” I ask, hoping I can find some sort of answer from the three behind the door.
“I’m pretty sure there’s a little box to the right of the door, just above the ground.” Charlie answers, allowing me to search quickly.
Within no time I have found the box, twisting the key to find a switch which completely resets the lock on the door. This time when I try the door it pushes open with ease and I’m greeted by a swarm of tight hugs. Even Rhonda wraps her arms around me, squeezing slightly.
Wally hangs back, waiting for the other two to finish their greetings first. As soon as he gets the chance, he’s sweeping me off my feet, hugging me so tight that I feel as though my ribs may shatter. He’s twirling me around clearly happy just to see me again, and no doubt to be out of that room.
“I hate to break this up guys but we should probably head off before the evil teacher decides to come and take his revenge on Y/N.” Rhonda states, already beginning to make her way up the stairs.
Once we make it to the library, Wally is immediately all over me. Tending to my wounds as best as he can with the limited medical supplies we picked up from the nurses office on the way. He has a slight frown on his face as he wipes away the blood and I can’t help but place my fingers under his jaw, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips as a way of cheering him up. Yet the frown remains.
“Hey, what’s wrong? We made it out didn’t we?” I ask, cupping his face with my hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks.
“Yeah but I should have been out there to protect you. If I was there you wouldn’t have been hurt. You would never have been in that position.” He tells me, eyes not meeting mine as he speaks and I have a feeling that it’s because he is embarrassed and ashamed that he couldn't do anything.
Smiling softly, my lips press against his forehead, followed by both cheeks, then his nose, chin and lips. As I’m peppering kisses all across his face, he finally begins to crack a slight smile. His hands wrap around my forearms as he tugs me into a slow, heated kiss. Lips moving against mine at a relaxed pace and I find myself pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. He groans quietly, hands moving to carefully pull me onto his lap as we get caught up in the heat of the moment.
“Can you guys please be gross somewhere else?” Rhonda asks, tilting her book down slightly to make sure we hear her.
I giggle as a soft rose blush tints Wally’s cheeks, pink from ear to ear. It’s cute, and he’s the most relaxed I have seen him since leaving the basement.
“Not to kind of spoil the mood, but what do we do about Mr Martin?” I ask, sharing a worried glance between the three other ghosts sitting at the table.
“I mean, we’re already dead, he can’t hurt us.” Rhonda states, a logical answer though I’m sure he’d still find a way to make our lives hell.
“Yeah but he still trapped us and look at Y/N’s face.” Charlie comments, clearly nervous by the entire situation. “No offense.”
“Not to mention he’s been studying us.” Wally adds in, to which he receives a questioning look from me. “I’ll fill you in later.”
“I guess we just avoid him and maybe brush up on exorcisms and ridding ourselves of negative spirits.” I say, smiling at Wally as I feel him reach for my hand under the table.
As eventful as today was, and as scary as today, I’m no longer scared. Mr Martin may be big and tough but I know that the four of us are able to take on anything. Besides with Wally by my side, I know I’m able to accomplish anything.
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tommyxgrace-always · 2 months
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This pic warms my heart. I remember reading an old Cillian interview where he was asked which director he would love to work with and Cillian as always gave a sincere and humble answer , something on the lines of “there are some great directors that I would love to work but also aware that it might never happen so I want to save myself from embarrassment and not list them”
I always thought Scorsese must be one of the directors on his mind and NOW to be complemented and recognised by someone like him must be so euphoric for him❤️
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Pic courtesy Cillxo on Instagram
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talas-first-lady · 3 months
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I asked myself this question today and I could not answer it so I thought I'd gather some expert input. Please share!
There will be a separate poll for the ladies and we can always smush the winners together and make them fight to the death after.
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schoolspirits · 4 months
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Mr. Martin: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.
Maddie: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...
Charley: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.
Rhonda: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.
Wally: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.
Mr Martin: ...Could you guys lighten up a little?
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rosen01 · 5 months
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Wally Cox, Marilyn Monroe and Dean Martin on the set of Something's Got to Give directed by George Cukor, 1962
Cheers!
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arrow-v-flash-polls · 1 month
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Team Flash once again grew in season three and some of the teams roles changed too. But who was the most valuable member overall?
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mooskeleton · 1 year
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My contributions, ma’am
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luzzarm · 1 month
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Jerry in Jumping Jacks is such a mood
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Film: Jumping Jacks (1952)
— GIFs by me ☆
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lovevalley45 · 1 year
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filmjunky-99 · 2 months
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s h i v e r s, 1975 🎬 dir. david cronenberg
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mytvjunk · 9 months
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Season 1 >>>>>>> Season 2
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tom-hunter-summah · 10 months
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so i know that wally changed clothes in the show because he had a change of clothes in his gym locker but my thing is; how come no one else thought to change their clothes? like they could grab something from lost and found or even the theatre department like they did during homecoming? idk just a thought
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captaindowagerblog · 3 months
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wild thought
i'm probably wrong
but have we considered that mr martin might not be the bad guy? maybe it's Janet? maybe she's actually not a nice person. maybe mr martin's truth of how he died (granted neither mentioned they died together-liars) is close to the truth?
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wallyclarksnewmom · 1 year
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1. We learned that however Dawn crossed over was different than Janet, and somehow felt by the other ghosts, so they were implicitly done differently, Dawn's without the 'help' of Mr. Martin.
2. I'd assume Dawn's crossing over had to do with her and Maddie's conversation, so I'm thinking it has more to do with the acceptance regarding the unfinished business rather than its completion - Charley and Wally both faced theirs to some extent but didn't cross over, so I'm not totally sure what the line is. Or did Janet not actually cross over at all?
2b. Mr. Martin talked about keeping Maddie 'balanced' he wants her to just accept her afterlife as it is and not seek out what's bothering her. If she doesn't face her issues then she can't cross over without his help, and that's what he wants.
2c. Why does Mr. Martin have to be the one to do it - is he even actually a ghost like the rest of them or is he more like some kind of Charon/undertaker figure with ill intent?
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