schoolspiritsfan14

[schoolspiritsfan14]

End of Beginning

@school-spirits Spirit Week 1: Role Reversal

A/N: So, for this one the roles are reversed! Ghosts become living and living become Ghosts! They will still have their same names and the ghosts will have the same deaths just reversed.  The only thing that remains the same is that Maddie’s body gets taken by Janet, but I won't be discussing that in full detail. Think of Season 1 ep 1- but shorter.

Warnings: obvious spoilers, swearing

“Okay, can I have everyone’s attention please? We have a very important matter to discuss.” Mr Hartman said into the microphone to get the students attention. Maddie is on the side of the gym in the bleachers overlooking all the students seating in chairs below. She spots her best friends Wally, Charley and Rhonda sitting together. Scared. “The police are still investigating the sudden disappearance of Madison Nears. If anyone knows anything, please tell the police. We hope she returns to us soon. And now, a cheer from our very own Split River cheer team.”

The cheerleaders begin their cheers, but no one is really paying attention. Maddie sees her face on the giant screen behind the cheerleaders with the words ‘missing’.

“Ugh can’t they see I’m right fucking here?” Maddie shouts trying to get anyone to notice her. 

“They can’t hear you. It will only be a matter of time before they realise your dead.” A voice from behind her said. 

She turns around and is greeted by a boy who looked like her age though his outfit was dated. He is average height with brown shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “What do you mean dead?” She asks. 

“You know dead. No longer living. Passed on. Do I really need to give you a definition right now?” the boy replied. 

She rolled her eyes. “I know what it means. But what do you mean I’m dead? I’m standing right here.” 

“If you and me are talking that means you’re dead because I have been since 1993.” The boy said. “Come one its almost time for group and I can introduce you to everyone else.”

He starts walking to the doors. He stops in his tracks when Maddie said, “There are others?” 

She catches up to him and he formally introduces himself. “I’m Simon. I’m kind of the spirit guide to new spirits like yourself. I go over the rules and everything. Its Hella overwhelming at first, but you will get used to it.”

Simon opens the doors to the gym and in the far corner she sees a circle of chairs and others surrounding the chairs. Simon takes a seat and encourages Maddie to do the same. She is about to take a seat next to Simon where a girl snaps “I’m sitting there.” 

“Ignore her. That’s Claire she was head cheerleader and Queen Bea in her prime but she’s harmless.” Simon added. 

Maddie sits in the next free chair as an older man - older than anyone in this circle – starts speaking. “Okay everyone takes a seat so we can get started. It looks like we have a new student with us today. How about we go around and introduce ourselves? Starting with our new student.”

“I’m good.” Maddie quickly replies. She looks over to Simon and he gives her an encouraging look. She takes a deep breath. “Uh hi I’m Madison, but everyone calls me Maddie. Um I don’t know how I got here. I don’t remember and they kind of haven’t found my body yet.”

“Wait you don’t know what happened? Oh, shit maybe you were murdered!” The boy next to Maddie said. He had brown hair and the bluest eyes she’s ever seen.

“Not now Xavier.” The older man said. 

“Is that normal? Not remembering how you died?” Maddie asked.

A girl with brown long curly hair perked up beside her “Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember. I wish I didn’t.” 

“Not helpful, Nicole.” Claire lifted her head slightly then returning her attention back to filing her nails. 

Suddenly the gym door swung open, and students filled the room. “What happening?” Maddie wondered looking over her shoulder to notice her friends and others enter the gym doors. 

“I think it’s your memorial.” Xavier said.  Maddie stood up from the circle and made her way through the crowd of students and stopped in front of her friends. 

“God, this feels wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this.” Wally sighed.

“I know.” Charley placed his hand on Wally’s arm. “We’ll find her then we can get back to our senior year and our plans afterwards. This is just a small little hiccup we need to get over.”

The principal began his speech to the crowd when Maddie notices her mother walk in. She eyes her mother, she looks devastated. Maddie would do anything to reach out and tell her she’s okay. But Simon already filed her in on that part. They can’t touch the living. 

The principal finishes his speech and directs everyone outside for a search in the woods with the local sheriff’s department to look for clues.

Maddie follows her friends out into the hall. Wally stops and says to Rhonda and Charley. “You guys go ahead I just need a minute” They nod and walk out the building. 

Wally walks into an empty classroom. Maddie follows him in. Wally stares out the window, out on the front lawn, watching students walk to the wooded area near the school. He struggles to fight back his tears. “Maddie please come back to us. You don’t even need to explain why you did this.” His voice cracks. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive senior year without you.” Tears roll down his face. 

Maddie steps closer to him looking out the window. “I’m sorry Wally. I don’t know what happened.”  

Suddenly Wally stops crying. He wipes the tears from his face and turns in the direction of her. “Maddie?”

“Wally, you can see me?” Maddie asked. 

Wally nods his head “Oh my god Maddie. I have so many questions”

“I do too, but I don’t think I have the answers for you.” Maddie replied as relief filed her body. Finally, someone else can see her. She doesn’t know how, but he can. 

“Well, that’s new.” She hears Simon enter the room. 

“What does this mean?” Maddie turns her attention to him. 

Wally looks around confused, tears still welling in his eyes. “Mads, Who are you talking to?” 

This was so fun to quickly write out and such a fun creative idea. Love this fan event created by @school-spirits excited for next weeks!

divider by @saradika-graphics

[schoolspiritsfan14]

A GIRL AND A ZOMBIE

SUMMARY: Not all monsters do monstrosities.

NOTE: Disney girly (cough aslo Milo fineeee cough cough) forever, hands down. Also, Bonzo can talk, I really like him and I want him to participate too :(xoxo

No one really breathed when the zombies walked in. Not really.

It was first period — history class — but everyone’s mind was on the new rumor that had crawled through the halls like wildfire since the moment the gates opened: Zombies are coming to Seabrook High.

Not zombies like in movies — drooling, rotting, brain-hungry corpses — but still. Undead. Green hair. Z-Bands strapped tight to their wrists, blinking a ghostly neon to keep the “monstrosity” inside them tamed. That’s what the news anchors kept calling it anyway: “The Monstrosity.” Like Zed was wearing a ticking bomb on his wrist instead of a bracelet that made him feel less like a nightmare.

You were perched near the front of the classroom, same as always — your hair pulled into your signature high ponytail, a swipe of glitter on your cheek because Kayla said it made you “pop” when you smiled. You were Seabrook’s star — the lead cheerleader, the girl everyone watched, the girl they envied, the girl they wanted to be.

And right now, you were trying to focus on your history notes while Kayla practically vibrated beside you. “Do you think they bite?” she hissed in your ear.

You arched a brow at her, amused. “They’re not vampires, Kay.”

“Same thing! Dead. Creepy. Not normal. You know Principal Lee only let them in because of that stupid integration law. What if they—”

The classroom door swung open. The chatter died so fast it might as well have been sliced clean with a knife.

Zed Necropolis stepped in — tall, lanky but strong, green hair stark against the crisp, perfect white of the Seabrook hallways. His Z-Band blinked steady on his wrist, but his eyes… his eyes were so alive. Bright green, wide, a little scared but trying to look cool about it.

Behind him, Bonzo shuffled in — mumbling something you couldn’t hear, probably about lunch. The teacher, Mr. Keene, clapped his hands together, pretending not to look as stiff as a broom handle. “Class, settle down. We have our new friends joining us today. Please welcome Zed and Bonzo.”

A few kids clapped. Mostly, they just stared. Whispers curled around the room like smoke.

Monsters. Zombies. What if they snap?

Zed’s eyes darted across the room, skipping over the stares, the side-eyes — until they landed on you. He held your gaze for a second. Just a second. And in that tiny second, you offered him something no one else did: a small smile. Soft. Warm.

His stomach flipped so hard he thought maybe this was the monstrosity people feared — the way his heart threatened to beat out of his chest because a pretty human girl had smiled at him.

-

Mr. Keene cleared his throat. “Alright, let’s get started. This morning we’re beginning your first major assignment of the year: a presentation on an issue of global importance. Topics will be assigned, as will your partners. I’ve decided to… mix things up a bit.”

A collective groan. Kayla shot you a desperate look. “If I get stuck with a zombie I’m switching with you. I swear.”

You nudged her playfully with your shoulder. “Relax. Maybe they’re nice.”

Zed swallowed hard behind you. He could feel the prickle of every eye on him — he tugged his sleeves down to hide the Z-Band. Maybe if he looked more normal, they’d forget. Maybe if he stayed quiet—

“Zed Necropolis…” Mr. Keene droned from his list.

Zed flinched.

“…and (Y/N) (L/N).”

The reaction wasn’t quiet. A chorus of gasps, someone outright laughed, a squeal from Kayla — “No way! That’s so unfair!”

You blinked. Then laughed under your breath. You could feel the weight of the entire classroom pressing on your shoulders — every cheerleader, every football boy, every gossip waiting for you to roll your eyes or beg to switch.

Instead, you turned your head, eyes finding Zed’s. He looked like he was bracing for impact, shoulders tense, lips parted.

You smiled. Really smiled — wide, genuine, with that tiny dimple he’d only seen when you cheered at pep rallies. “Looks like it’s you and me, zombie boy.”

A few giggles. A lot of shocked silence. Zed’s throat bobbed as he nodded once, too stunned to speak.

-

When the bell rang, the squeak of chairs and shuffle of sneakers drowned out the last of Mr. Keene’s droning instructions. The entire room felt wired — like they were waiting to see what you’d do.

Kayla grabbed your arm the second you stood. “Hey. You don’t have to do this, you know. I can switch with you. Or you can ask Keene to—”

You just raised an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”

She gaped. “Because he’s a zombie, (Y/N)! You can’t just… act like it’s normal.”

You tilted your head, lips curving into a small, defiant smile. “Maybe it should be normal.”

You tugged your bag over your shoulder and left Kayla spluttering in your wake. A few students parted as you made your way up the aisle — like you were about to defuse a bomb. You could see Zed trying to stuff his books into his old, fraying backpack. He looked ready to bolt — shoulders hunched, head ducked low, his Z-Band blinking that soft, steady green.

He flinched when you dropped into the empty seat in front of him, spinning it around so you were straddling it backwards, your chin propped on the backrest.

“Hey, zombie boy.”

Zed’s eyes shot up. He looked like he half-expected you to hiss or throw holy water on him. “Um. Hey.”

Your grin softened. “Zed, right?”

He gave a shy nod. “Yeah. And you’re… you’re (Y/N).” His voice dipped lower when he said it, like your name was something he wasn’t supposed to say too loud.

You tilted your head, studying him. His hair was such an impossible shade of green up close — soft, tousled, falling into his eyes. His hands fidgeted with the strap of his bag. You noticed the way his Z-Band glowed gently under his sleeve cuff, and how he seemed to keep pulling the fabric down over it like he was trying to hide it.

You leaned in a little, voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. “So, I was thinking… library after school?”

Zed blinked. “You… want to work on it? With me?”

You laughed — not mocking, but warm, easy, like you couldn’t believe he’d even have to ask. “Yeah. Kinda the point of a partner project, isn’t it?”

He ducked his head, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he wanted to smile but didn’t trust himself yet. “Most people would’ve switched.”

“Well,” you shrugged, twisting your ponytail around your finger, “most people are boring.”

Zed’s eyes darted to yours — really darted, like he was seeing if you were messing with him. When he saw you weren’t, his shoulders dropped a fraction.

“Are you, um…” He hesitated, voice barely above a mumble. “…not scared?”

The question made your heart pinch. He said it so quietly — like he was apologizing for existing.

You leaned forward, so close he could see the tiny shimmer in your eyeliner. “Of you? Not even a little bit.”

Zed swallowed. His mouth parted, closed again, like he was trying to catch up with the way you just looked at him — not like he was about to bite you, but like he was just… a boy.

You tugged your notebook from your bag, scribbled something on a page, then tore it out and pushed it across his desk.

Zed glanced at the paper — your loopy handwriting, the little doodle of a cheer megaphone next to your name and phone number. “This is your… number?”

“Just in case you wanna brainstorm before the library. Or if you get lost. Or if you want me to scare off any of the stuck-up kids who give you a hard time.”

He barked out a short, surprised laugh — warm and real. It made your stomach flutter for some reason you didn’t bother to question yet.

After a beat, you leaned back and swung your leg off the chair. “See you after the last bell, zombie boy. Don’t ghost me.”

He huffed out a laugh at that — you caught the tiny sparkle in his eyes before you turned away.

As you walked off, you felt half the room’s eyes on you — some shocked, some scandalized, a few furious that you, the golden girl of Seabrook High, had just giggled and touched the new zombie boy’s wrist like it was nothing. Like he was human.

When you glanced back over your shoulder, Zed was still frozen in his seat, staring at the piece of paper in his hand like it was a secret map to a life he hadn’t dared dream about yet.

And maybe, just maybe — it was

-

You tapped your notebook. “Okay. So, big presentation on discrimination and fear of the unknown. We could do the usual — PowerPoint, boring charts, everyone claps, we get an A. Or…”

Zed squinted, suspicious but amused. “Or?”

You leaned forward, voice dropping like you were about to share a top-secret plan. “Or we do something that actually matters.”

He blinked, fighting a shy smile. “Such as?”

You tapped your pen against your cocoa mug. “A fair.”

He snorted softly — so soft it was almost lost under the record player’s gentle crackle. “A fair?”

“Yeah!” you said, more excited now, words tumbling out faster. “A school fair. Games, booths, food. But everything is for humans and zombies together — no separation. Three-legged races with mixed pairs. A dunk tank where people dunk you and you dunk them back — equal dunking.”

Zed choked on a laugh. “A dunk tank?”

“Or whatever! The point is, it’s not ‘humans vs zombies.’ It’s Seabrook — one big messed-up, glittery, undead family. People only stay scared when they’re apart. If they actually do things with you guys — share food, laugh, play dumb games — they’ll see there’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re not monsters.”

Zed’s smile faded a fraction. He traced a finger around the rim of his mug, voice softer now. “I don’t know.”

You blinked, leaning back a little. “What do you mean?”

He looked at you then — really looked, like he wanted you to understand something he didn’t have words for yet. “No one wants this, okay? I mean — you do. Addison, maybe. But the rest of them? They’ll just… laugh. Or worse. Nobody’s gonna show up to a ‘hug-a-zombie’ party.”

You felt your chest tighten. You’d known Zed was used to this — to people crossing the street, staring, stepping back. But hearing him say it so plainly still stung.

You leaned across the tiny table, close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in your eyes under the fairy lights. “Zed Necropolis. If everyone’s too scared to try because they think it won’t work, nothing ever changes. Ever. That’s how monsters win — the real monsters. The ones inside people’s heads.”

His mouth tugged at the corner — part sad, part amazed by you. “And what if it flops? What if it’s just you, me, and Bonzo tossing bean bags at each other in an empty parking lot?”

You let out a soft laugh — and then, without thinking too hard about it, you reached across the table and curled your hand over his. Warm. Firm. You felt him stiffen at first — like maybe no one had touched him like that in a long time, open and unafraid.

“Then we’ll toss bean bags in an empty parking lot,” you said simply, squeezing his hand. “And next time, maybe three more people join us. And then ten. And then fifty. And someday, someone else won’t be so scared to sit next to the new zombie in class, because they’ll remember that day at the fair. And it all starts because we were brave enough to look dumb first.”

Zed’s throat bobbed. His eyes flicked to your hand on his — your perfectly manicured fingers tangled with his bigger, colder ones. He wondered if you felt how different his skin was — how it didn’t warm the way human skin did. But if you did, you didn’t flinch. You didn’t let go.

“You’re kinda… amazing,” he murmured.

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “Kinda? Rude.”

He laughed — really laughed, and you felt it buzz through his fingertips under yours.

A voice from behind the counter broke the soft bubble. “Hey, kids — keep it down back there!”

You jumped slightly, giggling as you pulled your hand back — but not far. You gave his fingers one last squeeze before you let go.

“So. You in?” you asked. “Will you do it with me?”

Zed stared at you — the human girl who was supposed to fear him, hate him, keep him at arm’s length — and felt that strange warmth blooming again in the empty space inside his chest where his heart didn’t beat the same way anymore.

He nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I’m in.”

You grinned so wide you thought your cheeks might crack. “Good. Because you’re designing the dunk tank.”

He barked out another laugh, shaking his head. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” You winked, stealing the joke before he could.

Outside the bookstore window, Seabrook glowed under the soft dusk — tidy streets, perfect lawns, the same old walls people built to keep them out. But inside, in that tiny warm corner with the smell of old pages and cocoa in the air, a cheerleader and a zombie sat side by side, plotting something that felt like it could crack the walls wide open.

-

When the day of the fair finally arrived, Seabrook High’s football field looked like something out of one of those shiny “Welcome to Seabrook!” tourism brochures — pastel banners snapping in the breeze, neat rows of game booths lining the track, tables stacked with rainbow cupcakes and paper cups of fizzy pink punch.

You stood at the edge of it all, arms crossed tight over your Seabrook High cheer jacket, ponytail bobbing as you scanned the bustling field with a mix of fierce pride and electric nerves.

It worked. Well — half-worked.

Kids had shown up. Families too. Parents lingered by the snack tables, whispering behind polite smiles. The dunk tank Zed had helped build — with Bonzo’s chaotic but enthusiastic input — stood near the center, already splashed and muddy from the football guys dunking each other for laughs.

And everywhere you looked, neon-green Z-Bands glowed faintly on wrists and forearms, blinking steady reminders that the monsters were only monsters if Seabrook made them so.

But there was still a line — invisible but real. Zombies grouped near Bonzo’s face-painting booth or the zombie bake sale (brain cupcakes purely for the pun). Humans huddled by the ring toss, the snack tables, the prize wheel. People mingled near each other — but not really with each other.

You blew out a slow breath, eyes scanning for the one face you needed to see this all through.

And there he was.

Zed stood by the dunk tank, arms crossed, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a streak of wet across his cheek where someone had splashed him on his shift in the seat. He looked alive — the way he laughed at something Bonzo said, the way he tossed a wet towel at Wyatt, who pretended to faint dramatically.

When he spotted you, his smile tugged wider — and he cut through the clusters of humans and zombies without hesitation, like your orbit was the only gravity that mattered.

“Hey, zombie boy,” you teased when he stopped in front of you, shoving his hands into his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them.

He ducked his head, fighting a grin. “Hey. We’re not dead yet, huh?”

“Speak for yourself,” you shot back, flicking your ponytail over your shoulder. “I’m about two cake pops away from a sugar coma.”

Zed’s eyes flicked around — taking in the swirl of humans and zombies coexisting in cautious bubbles of fun. “This is… better than I thought it’d be.”

You raised an eyebrow, nudging his side with your elbow. “You doubted me?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Never.” His voice dropped a little. “I just… didn’t think people would show up. Or stay.”

Your smile gentled. “They’re here, aren’t they?”

He shrugged one shoulder, eyes drifting over the human-only huddle by the snack tables. “They’re here. Just… not really with us.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but a shriek of laughter from the dunk tank cut you off — a blur of water, a cheerleader squealing as she plopped into the tank with a dramatic splash. You grinned, rolling your eyes. “Okay, maybe they’re not hugging it out yet — but they’re here. That’s something. A start.”

Zed’s gaze dropped to you — really dropped, like he was memorizing the freckles on your nose, the pink gloss on your lips that caught the spring sun every time you smiled.

“You did this, you know,” he said softly. “You made them come.”

You shrugged, cheeks warming. “Well… you helped.”

He snorted under his breath. “I made a dunk tank.”

“A great dunk tank.” You nudged him again, shoulder to chest this time. He didn’t flinch like he used to — didn’t stiffen like he was bracing to be shoved away. He just smiled, soft and crooked, eyes crinkling at the corners.

You didn’t hear the scuffle at first — too busy explaining to Bonzo that no, you didn’t think brain-shaped caramel corn would convince the football team to mingle.

Then the voices spiked — sharp, ugly, carrying over the laughter and music.

“Hey — back off!” “You can’t come back here!” “Get away from her —”

You twisted so fast you nearly knocked over the popcorn tub. Your heart dropped straight through your stomach.

Near the dunk tank, a cluster had formed — humans pulling back, gasping, a few fumbling for their phones like they’d been waiting for this exact headline.

And in the center of it — a kid, maybe freshman age, no older than your baby cousin. Green hair slicked back, eyes wide, Z-Band blinking red. He was shaking — whole body quivering with something you recognized instantly. Fear. Panic.

He’d been cornered by a couple of older Seabrook kids — football boys with more biceps than sense — who’d probably taunted him for laughs until the control band glitched. Now the boy’s eyes were wild, teeth clenched, fingers curled like claws he didn’t know how to uncurl.

And standing barely two feet from him — you. Frozen. Hands half-raised, your brain racing through options but your feet refusing to move.

It happened too fast for your thoughts to catch up. The boy lunged — a desperate, mindless motion, all instinct and terror. You felt the air shift — felt your lungs seize.

And then a blur of green and black was in front of you.

Zed.

He slammed into the kid mid-lunge, arms wrapping him tight, pivoting his own body to shield yours as they crashed into the grass. You stumbled back, winded, falling onto your hands.

Gasps erupted — shocked, brittle, sharp.

“Did you see that?!” “He tackled him—” “Is she okay?—”

Zed pinned the kid gently, murmuring something low — words you couldn’t hear but soft enough that the boy stilled under his grip. The Z-Band flickered back to green, blinking steady and harmless.

Zed pulled back slowly, helping the boy sit up, brushing dirt from his hair with a tenderness that didn’t match the snarling rumors you knew would explode the second people found their voices.

And then his eyes snapped to you.

You were still on the grass, palms scraped, heartbeat pounding against your ribs so hard it felt like it might crack them open.

Zed pushed up — one knee, then standing, moving to you like the rest of the world had gone blurry. He knelt down in front of you, hands hovering but not touching yet, like he didn’t know if he was allowed.

“Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse — rough with adrenaline and something rawer. Fear. For you.

You laughed — half-hysterical, half-sobbing. “You… you tackled a zombie for me.”

Zed huffed a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Technically I tackled with a zombie. You just got in the way.”

You smacked his chest with the back of your hand — so soft it was barely a tap. Then you curled your fingers in the fabric of his jacket and tugged him closer.

“You saved me,” you whispered.

His breath caught. He searched your eyes — the tiny cuts on your palms, the wild thud of your pulse under your skin. His hands finally landed on yours, brushing your scraped knuckles like they were something precious.

“I’d do it again,” he said quietly. “A thousand times.”

You were still trembling, but your laugh broke through — warm and watery and real. You pressed your forehead to his for half a heartbeat — the edge of your nose brushing his cold one.

When you pulled back, you saw the circle of people — humans, zombies, football boys, cheerleaders — staring. Some horrified. Some stunned. Some… curious.

You lifted your chin, fingers still tangled in Zed’s jacket like you were daring anyone to try and pull him away.

“Not all monsters make monstrosities,” you said, loud enough for anyone to hear. “Some monsters save lives.”

Zed’s eyes shimmered — bright green, wide, so alive it made your ribs ache. He squeezed your hand like a promise.

And somewhere in that silent, electric hush, the line between human and zombie cracked. Maybe not wide open — not yet. But enough for something new to slip through. Something alive.

Something worth saving.

-

It had been four days since the fair, and Seabrook High was still buzzing like a kicked beehive. People whispered about it in the hallways, at their lockers, over the squeak of sneakers in the gym. The fair — the zombie boy — the cheer captain sitting on the grass with scraped palms and the undead hero who’d saved her.

Some kids called you stupid. Some called you brave. Some — the ones who saw how Zed looked at you when he thought no one was watching — called you something else entirely.

You tried not to care. Mostly you succeeded.

But the cafeteria? That was a different beast. The cafeteria had always been Seabrook’s neat little microcosm of “us” and “them” — jocks here, cheerleaders there, brains here, the unlucky new kids hovering like lost satellites. Now it had a new line: zombies.

Zed sat near the far end by the windows, shoulder to shoulder with Bonzo, Eliza, and a couple other zombie kids who’d started braving human lunch instead of the grim, metal-walled Zombie Caf. They clustered together like a little island of bright green hair, mismatched jackets, and low, cautious laughter.

You sat at your usual table: center of the room, prime real estate for rumor control and status maintenance. Your friends clustered close — Kayla, Addison, a couple other girls picking at kale salads like they were too pretty for actual food.

You could feel Zed before you saw him — his gaze a warm buzz between your shoulder blades. When you finally looked over, he was already looking at you. He lifted his hand — that big, careful wave like he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to take up that much space.

You grinned instantly — all teeth and sunshine — and lifted your hand back. For a second, you just held your palm up like a secret signal across enemy lines.

Then you pushed your tray back and started to stand. “I’ll be right back.”

Kayla’s fork clattered to her tray. “Where are you going?”

You shot her a look like it should’ve been obvious. “To say hi.”

She stared at you like you’d just announced you were moving to the moon. “To him?”

“Yes, to him.” You hooked a thumb over your shoulder, as if there was another six-foot-tall green-haired zombie in the room waving shyly from the window side.

Kayla’s eyes widened, her voice pitching up. “What are you doing?! One of them attacked you! Are you insane?”

The entire table fell dead silent. Across the room, the zombie table quieted too — the word attacked hanging in the air like a wasp waiting to sting. Zed’s smile dropped. Bonzo’s eyes darted to the floor.

Your jaw clenched. You planted your hands on the table, leaning in so Kayla couldn’t miss the fire in your eyes. “And one of them saved me.”

Your voice wasn’t loud — but it didn’t need to be. The word saved carried in the hush that followed, slicing clean through every whispered monster still clinging to the walls.

You straightened your jacket, chin lifting a fraction. “Just like humans, Kay. Some good, some bad. The difference is, the one who attacked me didn’t do it by choice. And the one who saved me? Did.”

You didn’t wait for her to find a comeback. You grabbed your tray — untouched salad, half a juice box — and crossed the cafeteria with every pair of eyes tracking your ponytail.

When you reached Zed’s table, you didn’t hover or glance around for permission. You just dropped your tray next to his, swung your bag off your shoulder, and slid onto the bench so close your knees brushed his under the table.

Zed’s mouth opened, then closed again. His hand hovered awkwardly like he didn’t know whether to touch your wrist, fist bump you, or just clap like you’d won something.

You leaned your shoulder into his, voice low enough for just him. “Sorry I’m late. Did I miss the good gossip?”

Bonzo hooted a laugh, shoving an entire brain cupcake in his mouth. Eliza smirked over her phone, thumbs tapping out what you knew would be a savage tweet before the lunch bell rang.

Zed blinked at you, that dopey grin creeping back in like the sun sliding through a crack in the clouds. “You really didn’t have to—”

“Had to,” you cut in, stabbing your fork into a piece of limp lettuce. “This side of the caf has better lighting anyway.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “You’re, uh… you’re something else.”

You arched a brow, bumping his knee under the table. “That a compliment or an insult?”

Zed smirked — a real smirk, sly and boyish in a way that made your stomach do a dumb flip. “Definitely a compliment.”

You fought a grin. “Good answer.”

You both fell quiet for a moment — but it wasn’t awkward. Not this time. Around you, the other zombies snuck peeks at you like you were a glitch in the Seabrook Matrix — the cheer queen perched between neon Z-Bands, giggling into her juice box like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You know,” Zed said, tapping your tray with his knuckles, “you didn’t have to fight your friends for me.”

You looked up at him through your lashes — his hair still a little damp from PE, his fingers drumming restlessly on the table because he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with all the new feelings crowding his chest.

“Zed.” You tipped your chin up. “You saved me. I’m allowed to save you back.”

His eyes softened — that warm, melt-right-through-you green. For a second, you wondered if he could feel your heartbeat rattling around your ribs like a caged bird.

Then he leaned in, voice just for you. “You keep doing that, you know. Making me think this place isn’t so bad.”

Your grin curled slow, a little sly. “Guess you’re stuck with me then.”

Bonzo slammed his tray down between you with a loud clatter, spraying a few stray cupcake crumbs. “Hey, Zed! You done flirting yet? She’s gotta try the brain corn!”

Zed startled — but the laugh that bubbled out of him was warm, unbothered, alive. He nudged you with his shoulder, eyes dancing. “You heard the man. Stay for dessert?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically — but your knee pressed into his under the table, and you didn’t pull it away. “Fine. But only because the company’s better over here.”

Zed beamed. He beamed — the hero, the monster, the boy who wasn’t either but all heart and shaky hope anyway.

And if you’d asked him later — years later, maybe — when he knew, really knew, that he’d fallen all the way in love with the prettiest, bravest girl in Seabrook? He’d tell you it was that moment. When you sat down beside him — and stayed.

-

You tried to focus. Really, you did. But every time you leaned over to scribble a note, your shoulder brushed his. Every time you giggled at something dumb he said, he stared at you a heartbeat too long. It was soft. Warm. Easy. Until it wasn’t.

At some point, you ended up shoulder to shoulder — your legs tucked under you, Zed cross-legged with his notes balanced on his knee. He said something about the presentation — about monsters being misunderstood — and the way he looked at you made your chest flip inside out.

“Zed?” you asked, voice too quiet, too gentle.

“Yeah?” His eyes flicked to your mouth and back like he didn’t mean to.

You tilted your head. “Why do you always do that?”

His brow furrowed. “Do what?”

“Look at me like I’m gonna vanish if you blink.”

He flinched like you’d read his mind — which, in a way, you had. He set his notebook aside, hands fidgeting in his lap like he couldn’t keep them still if he tried.

“I— I dunno. I just…” He trailed off. The room felt smaller, suddenly — like the walls were leaning in, like the posters on his door were leaning closer to hear.

“Zed,” you pressed, softer now. “Tell me.”

His throat bobbed. His hands twisted together, knuckles pale where the Z-Band blinked steady green. He looked at you like he was bracing for a door to slam shut.

“I know you could do better,” he mumbled, so low you had to lean in to catch it. “You could have anyone you wanted. Some perfect human guy. One who doesn’t wear this stupid band just so he doesn’t lose his mind and bite someone.”

“Zed—”

He cut you off, eyes flicking up, raw and wide. “But I— I like you. A lot. More than I’m supposed to, probably. And you’re… you’re you. And I’m just—”

You didn’t let him finish. You were done letting him talk himself down. Your palm slid up his jaw, fingers brushing the soft edge of his hairline, the little scar near his ear you’d never noticed before.

“Zed Necropolis,” you said, steady, sure. “Shut up.”

His breath caught. “What—?”

“Shut up. I like you too.”

For half a second, neither of you moved. The only sound was your heartbeat thumping in your ears and the faint hum of the old ceiling fan.

Then Zed’s mouth twitched — a broken, disbelieving smile cracking his stunned stare. “You do?”

You laughed — breathless, giddy — and tugged him forward by the collar of his hoodie. “Yeah, dummy. Now come here before I die of suspense.”

And then you were kissing him — soft at first, sweet, like you were testing a theory you’d both been writing in the margins for weeks. He tasted like mint gum and the faintest trace of chocolate from the cookies you’d stolen from the kitchen earlier. His hands hovered at your waist like he didn’t know if he was allowed — then settled there anyway, thumbs pressing into your sides like he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers.

When you pulled back for air, you were both grinning like idiots — foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in like it was the first real breath of the day.

“I can’t believe you—” he started.

You kissed him again before he could finish, giggling against his mouth. “Told you to shut up.”

The door slammed open. You flinched apart so fast you nearly knocked your head on his wall. Zed’s dad stood in the doorway, grocery bag tucked under one arm, eyebrows climbing so high they nearly vanished into his hairline.

“…Hey, Dad,” Zed said, voice squeaking just a little.

His dad looked at you — your flushed cheeks, your hand still suspiciously close to Zed’s hoodie strings — then back at Zed, deadpan. “So. Will your girlfriend be staying for dinner, or should I order more takeout for one?”

Your mouth dropped open. Zed squeaked again.

“Dad!”

Before either of you could sputter out a reply, a smaller voice shrieked from the hallway: “ZED HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!”

Zed’s little sister appeared behind their dad, all pigtails and gap-toothed grin, bouncing on her toes like she’d just won the lottery. “Moooooom! ZED HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”

Zed groaned into his hands. You just dissolved into giggles, burying your face in his shoulder as his dad sighed and ruffled his hair.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then,” his dad said dryly, turning back down the hall. “She’s staying for dinner.”

And as Zed’s little sister bolted down the stairs shouting “ZED HAS A GIRLFRIEND!” to every single picture frame on the wall, you peeked up at him — flushed, flustered, yours.

You pressed your lips to his ear, voice soft and smug. “Guess I am now, huh?”

Zed’s answering grin was so big it hurt your cheeks just looking at it.

“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning in to steal one more quick kiss before the next interruption. “Guess you are" he kissed you like he will never let u go.

[schoolspiritsfan14]

[schoolspiritsfan14]

[schoolspiritsfan14]

[schoolspiritsfan14]

Treat You Better Masterlist

Here you will find all the links for all parts of this story! Currently I have no idea how many parts could be short, could be long we'll see!

Also available on AO3 and once I figure out how to share a link of it here I’ll share it 😅

Summary: Wally, a childhood friend, develops a secret crush on Maddie, despite her boyfriend Xavier cheating. He tries to convince Maddie that Xavier is unsuitable for her.

Warnings and info: Wally Clark x Maddie Nears, everyone is Alive AU, set in 2023-24 (in line with the show), eventual smut maybe? swearing, angst, mentions of vaping, mentions of alcohol, Maddie and Wally are childhood friends since 10, they are neighbours.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

[schoolspiritsfan14]

Treat You Better 💜💙

Part 1

CW&INFO: Wally Clark x Maddie Nears, everyone is Alive AU, set in 2023-24 (in line with the show), eventual smut maybe? swearing, mentions of vaping, mentions of alcohol, Maddie and Wally are childhood friends since 10, they are neighbours 

Story Summary: Wally, a childhood friend, develops a secret crush on Maddie, despite her boyfriend Xavier cheating. He tries to convince Maddie that Xavier is unsuitable for her.

Part 1 summary: Maddie discover her mother Sandra passed out drunk. Maddie begs for her to go back to rehab, but Maddie discovers something that changes the future.

December 2023

Wally Clark has everything going for him. The star of the football team. The most popular guy in school. The most prestigious colleges in the country wanting him to be on their team for the next year. He had all any guy would want in life- except her. Madison Nears his best friend since they were ten.

Wally can’t exactly pinpoint the moment he developed feelings for Maddie, but those feelings became even stronger for him when Maddie got a boyfriend, Xavier. Wally isn’t a normally jealous guy but there was just something about Xavier he didn’t like. Was it because he would always find an excuse last minute to bail when the group would hang out or was it because Xavier vapes, and he didn’t want Maddie to fall into bad habits (but he knows Maddie well enough that she wouldn’t do drugs) or was it that Xavier could get away with anything because his dad is the sheriff of Split River?

Whatever the reason, Wally couldn’t stand Xavier. But who was he to tell Maddie that she can’t date who she wants to because Wally doesn’t like him? Maddie has always been fiercely independent ever since her dad passed away and her mother drowned her sorrows and pain in alcohol. All he could do was be there for his best friend and support her with her own choices- even if Wally doesn’t like them. 

It’s early on a Friday morning, Wally gets into his truck and quickly sends a text to Maddie telling her that he is waiting for her. And he waits for her to cross the street so he could drive her to school like they did every day. Wally has been driving Maddie to school since Junior year because her and her mother- Sandra share a car and she needed the car to drive to work. But Wally didn’t mind though. He only lived across the street plus it was more time he got to spend with Maddie- even though it was only a five-minute drive to school. 

In his rear-view mirror, he can see Maddie stumble out the door and stopped at the end of her driveway, look both ways before crossing. She opens the truck door and the cold midwestern air filled the cabin making Wally shiver. “Sorry I’m late.” She throws her bag in the back seat of his truck and closes the door. “Mom is passed out on the couch, and I couldn’t find my history textbook. She always moves my things without telling me.” She huffs as Wally reversed out his driveway and onto the road. 

Wally is the only one that knows the full truth about Sandra and her drinking. Her other friends only know parts of the story- not knowing how bad the situation really is. When Maddie is close to breaking point with her mother she would always come to Wally’s house. To get away. To be a normal teenager and focus on normal teenage things not wondering where money is coming from to pay for the next bill. But of course, he doesn’t mind when she does come over. The more time with Maddie, the better in his opinion. 

“Is Sandra, okay?” he asks concerned. Wally knows the mental toll of Sandra’s addiction is on Maddie. He wants to make sure that she will be okay during the school day and not focus on her mom. 

“She will be. Last time this happened I made her promise if it happens again, she needs to go back to rehab. It’s not fair on me in my senior year to be the responsible one. I love her and I want what’s best for her and I want her to get better before I leave for Northwestern in the fall.” Maddie exhales as she feels the pressure ease on her shoulders. “I just hope this time in rehab works. We can’t keep asking the bank for a loan.”

Wally quickly takes his eyes off the road and looks at her “You know that offer my parents gave you last time is still there. You know how much they love you and your mom, Mads.” 

“And it was sweet of them to offer but we can’t accept it. You know that Walls. It will be hard for a bit, but we will get there.” Maddie says as Wally turns into the school parking lot. “Anyways I don’t want to talk about it now. I’ll see you at lunch.” She says getting her bag off the back seat and exiting out of the passenger side. 

Wally reaches for his bag and exits his truck. A few feet ahead of him is Maddie with Xavier, his arm wrapped around her waist pulling her close for a kiss making his stomach churn. Wally was making his way to the entrance of the school when suddenly-

“Wally, hi.” Chloe, one of the cheerleaders who has a massive crush on Wally. The number of times he said he’s not into her like that, she won’t take the hint. “I’m in charge of the cheerleader/football team secret Santa this year and we drew names last night.”  She slips him a folded white piece of paper. He opens the paper to find written on the piece is her name. He internally groans because of fucking course she made him buy for her. “Gift exchange is last day before winter break.” Chloe gives Wally a wink and walks off. 

“Ooft that was painful to watch. Can’t she get a hint that you aren’t into her?” Wally turns to see Charley and Rhonda approach. 

“You could hire one of those planes that write in the sky and airhead still wouldn’t get the memo.” Rhonda sasses clutching on the strap of her bag. 

“She’s insufferable. I’m going to see if one of the guys will swap with me.” Wally says sliding the paper into his jean pocket. 

It’s almost the end of the school day. One hour left then Wally will be out on the field training for the upcoming football game. At least the last period is study hall and Mrs. Fisher cares more about her cowboy romance book than paying attention to any of the students.

Wally sets up his laptop when he notices Maddie walk in the room. He always does- she lights up every room she’s in. She makes eye contact with him, smiles at him then places her bag on the desk in front of her and pulls out a piece of paper and gives it to Xavier. Wally isn’t close enough to hear the conversation, but it looks heated and from the look on Maddie’s face; she’s pissed. 

“Uh Mads...” Simon lifts his head from his desk and peers out the window, seeing Sandra mount the footpath while trying to park her car. Maddie grabs her bag in a huff and storms out of the classroom.

“What is all that about?” Simon turns his attention to Wally. Out the window they can see Sandra make her way into the school.

“I have no idea but, I’ll go look for her.” Wally responds closing his laptop and shoving it into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. “If Mrs. Fisher says anything-“

“Dude she’s too into that book to pay attention. Go find Maddie.” Simon interrupts him. 

Wally finds Maddie and Sandra arguing at the end of the hallway. As he got closer, he can hear what they are arguing about. “What do you mean you spent my college fund on a fucking cabin? Dad left that money for me.” Maddie says through tears. 

“I did it for us, Mads. We can have a fresh start. A new beginning.” She notices Wally slowly approaching Maddie from behind. “And Wally and all of your other friends are more than welcome to visit any time they like too.”

“Mom, that money was for Northwestern.” Maddie argued. Wally kept his distance between the two but remained there for Maddie when she needed him.

“There’s a great college not too far away from the cabin. You can apply and of course you will get in with how smart you are and besides I never liked the idea of you being in Chicago anyways, that’s too far away from me- “

“I want to get far away from you!” Maddie snapped. 

“You don’t mean that Mads- “

“I can’t even look at you right now. Don’t expect me to be home later, I’ll be at Wally’s.” Maddie took off with tears falling from her face. Sandra looks at Wally and he can see how hurt she is.

“Look after her.” Sandra said walking away head hung low. 

Ah my first (of many) Maddie x Wally fic is here! Im so excited for this story and I hope you all love it. 😍🥹

As always if you'd like to be added to the taglist,let me know and ill add you ☺️

Tags: @rosietoesy @seeker1982 @lover1409 @unholypsychic @jamiemoonymarks @m3ntaltashia23 @darth-jaderz

[schoolspiritsfan14]

That's Nicole. Xavier, Claire. And you guys pretty much know Simon.

SCHOOL SPIRITS — 2.05 "Ghost Who's Coming to Dinner"

[schoolspiritsfan14]

— SCHOOL SPIRITS, SEASON ONE.

My So-Called Death, 412 Screencaps.

The Fault in Our Scars, 406 Screencaps.

Dead and Confused, 369 Screencaps.

Ghoul Intentions, 426 Screencaps.

The Twilight End Zone, 379 Screencaps.

Grave the Last Dance, 487 Screencaps.

Séance Anything, 496 Screencaps.

Madison's Body, 491 Screencaps.

Find in GALLERIES. Like or reblog the post it was useful. Your interaction shows me that I should keep making screencaps. And if you want me to post some in separate posts, tell me! ♡

[schoolspiritsfan14]

clark kent superman

(Yes I AM bringing this trend over to Tumblr)

[schoolspiritsfan14]

Hopes And Fears - Part Five. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Wordcount: 2.9K

Y/N's death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can't even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Warning: Mature Language, Sexual Assault, Murder

A/N: Part five is finally here and guess what? Without spoiling anything, things are ramping up a notch. This part is pretty much just pure fluff so I hope you enjoy.

Previous Parts: One. Two. Three. Four.

“I was murdered.”

Nerves course through my body as I feel the stares of each ghost piercing into me. Daring to note their expressions, I notice that not one of them appears to be judging me. Mr Martin’s expression appears curious, Wally a combination of shock and sympathy, Charlie proud, even Rhonda offers me a comforting smile.

“I’m still not ready to talk about it but now you know.”

“Thank you for sharing that with the group Y/N. Do you feel better, like a weight has been lifted from you now that you’ve started the process to move on?” Mr Martin asks, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, encouraging me to open up more to the group of ghosts.

“Not really.” I state, allowing myself to sigh and slump further back into the chair. “I feel the same. You bang on about how opening up will make me feel better and allow me to move on every single session but I don’t feel like I’m moving on.”

“Well it’s like Mr Martin says, moving on and processing our deaths take time. You’ve been dead what three weeks. We’ve all had years to process these things, trust us, you will feel lighter eventually.” Charlie adds, attempting to make me feel better.

“I mean yeah, you may feel upset or angry now and that’s valid but it’ll get easier. Hell, I was killed sixty odd years ago and I’m still pissed about it.” Rhonda states, pulling yet another lollipop from the pocket of her trousers.

“I’m not upset anymore.” I push back with a subtle roll of my eyes. “And I’m not angry. I’m fucking enraged. Three weeks and not a single arrest, how hard is it to obtain a shred of evidence and send the monsters that did this to me to jail?”

“So there were multiple perpetrators?” Mr Martin questions.

“I see what you’re doing but I’ve already told you that I’m not ready to tell the story yet.”

“It was worth a shot.” Mr Martin smiles, turning his attention to the rest of the group. “Does anybody have any supportive words for Y/N? Any advice they wanna give?”

“I know it’s probably not what you wanna hear right now but it’s nice to have another murder victim around. You get it.” Rhonda shares, a comforting gleam in her eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry for the way I treated you before cherry pop. It wasn’t cool of me.”

I can’t help but smile at her words. “Thanks Rhonda, I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’ve realized I need to learn how to control my emotions better.”

“Aww, are you two about to become best friends?” Charlie teases, a cheesy grin plastered across his face.

“Shut up Charlie.”

“Shut up Charlie.”

Rhonda and I both state at the same time, we share a knowing look, both attempting to suppress our smiles at the humor of the situation.

“You know we’re all here for you, take as much time as you need.” Wally finally speaks, catching my eye as the words slip out of his mouth. “And I’m sorry that happened to you.”

As Mr Martin wraps up  the session, I find my eyes continuously wandering over to Wally. Who coincidentally happens to always be looking in my direction. The butterflies returning to my stomach once again which nowadays seems to be a regular occurrence, no matter how hard I try to quash it.

As everybody begins to filter out of the gym, Charlie and I find ourselves being the last to leave. Which results in us having to stack the chairs and put them away.

“So, how are things?” Charlie asks, an eager tone to his voice which suggests to me that he is looking for a specific answer to the question. Though I’m not entirely sure what that answer is.

“Other than the obvious troubles that I have weighing on my mind, things have been pretty good recently.” I tell the boy, smiling as I think back on all the time that Wally and I have spent together.

“Oh come on Y/N. I know something is going on between you and that loveable jock of ours, so spill.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I spit out quickly, turning my back to Charlie as I add another chair to the stack in front of me, hoping he doesn’t see the blush rising on my cheeks.

“I’m not stupid, I see the way you two look at each other.” Charlie tells me, leaning himself against my stack of chairs so I have no option but to face him. “That boy is like a lovestruck little puppy every time you’re around, it’s adorable if not mildly sickening.”

“I-”

“All I’m saying is, coming from someone who lost their chance of love, don’t miss out because of whatever’s holding you back. Most of us don’t get a second chance like this.”

His words strike me right in the chest, realizing that he could in fact be right. “Wow Charlie, that’s actually incredibly wise.” 

“Well I’m not just a pretty face.” He jokes to which I slap him lightly on the arm despite laughing along with him.

Charlie’s words stick with me for the rest of the day, jumping about in my mind with no indication of leaving anytime soon. Even as I hang out with Wally in one of the empty dance studios, I find myself distracted by the thoughts racing around my head.

“Are you sure you’re okay, you seem like something’s bothering you.” Wally shouts through to me, as I rummage around the locker room.

“Yeah, fine. Never been better, I just can’t seem to find-” My words trail off as I find exactly what I was looking for. 

Pulling the black sports bag from the bottom of the pile, I smile triumphantly, tugging open the zipper to find all my dance clothes. It’s not exactly my dream to be wearing workout clothes for all of eternity but I’d rather that than the tiny cheerleader uniform that I have been stuck in up until now.

“You okay in there?”

I remain silent as I tug off my Split River uniform, pulling on a black sports playsuit with a little white cardigan and calf length white socks. 

“Y/N, you okay?” Wally asks again as I tug my sneakers back on to my feet.

After quickly checking myself over in the mirror to double check that I look somewhat presentable, I dramatically pull open the curtain, posing in front of it as I show Wally my change of clothes. Doing my best to put on a mini fashion show despite the outfit not exactly being the most fashionable.

As I walk towards the dark haired boy, I notice the way he sits up straight as I get closer to him, no longer slumped against the wall. The corners of his mouth are tugged upwards as I jokingly strut towards him, to which he claps enthusiastically.

“God, I feel ten times better now that I’m out of that stupid cheer uniform.” I admit, dropping myself down in front of Wally, crossing my legs beneath me.

“You liked cheerleading though, didn't you?”

“Yeah of course, doesn’t mean I had to like the uniforms though.” I confess with a shrug. “Besides, I felt kind of icky wearing the clothes I died in.”

“Well, at least now you’re dressed for an impromptu workout at any time.” Wally chuckles.

Although I smile along with him, I still can’t help thinking about what Charlie said to me. Gazing at him now, I’ve never felt more sure that I liked the footballer sat across from me, and yet I still can’t find the bravery within me to make a move. Not daring to cross a line nor wanting to ruin the budding friendship that we have managed to cultivate.

“Hey, how do you express your emotions?” I ask, desperately wanting to distract myself from overthinking my feelings towards the jock.

“What do you mean?” Wally asks curiously, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to understand the question.

“Like, when you’re so pent up with emotions, whether it’s anger or sadness or grief, how do you release that?” 

“I used to play football when I was alive, it was the only thing I really knew how to do, or that I was good at. It gets a lot of rage out though. We have field day now, it’s where we just smash and break stuff on the field but that’s a rare occurrence to be honest. When Mr Martin thinks we deserve it.” Wally explains, though when he notices the slight confusion on my face he continues. “I’d imagine those don’t really help you though right? Got a lot of feelings you wanna let out?”

“Whenever I felt too much before, I’d dance, it let me blow off some steam and tired me out enough to not feel as overwhelmed.” I tell him, reminiscing on my previous life. “I don’t know if that would help me now though, plus I always liked to have a partner or at least someone to join me so I wasn’t so alone.”

We remain in silence for a few moments, the two of us contemplating ways to allow me to blow off all the rage that I have residing within me. I place my head in my palm as I struggle to come to a satisfactory option.

“Rhonda swears by sex.” Wally blurts out, my head snapping up at his words and his expression swiftly changes to one of embarrassment as he realizes what he just said. “Not that I’m suggesting we have sex. I mean I wouldn’t be opposed to it but I’m sure that’s not the only option. I just thought, well if Rhonda swears by it then it must be a good option right but I don’t know, it was a stupid suggestion, I-”

“Wally, have you and Rhonda?” I daren’t bring myself to finish the question, partially because I’m afraid of the answer but partially because I don’t trust myself to not confess my feelings for him, especially after learning he wouldn’t be opposed to having sex with me. I mean sure, I know he was rambling and it wasn’t exactly an admission of his feelings towards me however it does have my insides feeling all gooey.

“No! No, god, no.” He exclaims, putting emphasis on the words to ensure that I’m understanding correctly. “I love her, don’t get me wrong but she’s like a sister to me. I’m maybe ninety percent sure that she sleeps with one of the goth kids that died in the 90s when there was that gas leak in the science lab.”

I nod my head slowly, unsure of how to carry on the conversation from here as it has taken a somewhat awkward turn. Avoiding eye contact with Wally, I focus instead on picking the skin around my fingernails, nervously biting the inside of my cheek at the same time.

“What if I danced with you?” Wally suggests, causing me to look at him with raised brows, surprised that he would offer. “I suppose it’d be more like you teaching me, but I promise to try my best.”

“Really?” 

“Sure, how hard can it be?”

With a beaming smile on my face, I instantly jump to my feet, running over to the stereo to press play. Wally follows me to the center of the room, watching as I wildly jump around to the sound of the Now That’s What I Call Music cd. He lets out a boyish laugh at my antics and I begin to feel the stress falling off my shoulders almost immediately.

“So what do you wanna start with?” I ask, taking in his hands in mine and forcing him to twist his body side to side, which he does so awkwardly.

“I don’t know. You’re supposed to be the teacher.” Wally replies sarcastically, causing me to drop his hands in feigned annoyance.

“You know what, just for that little comment, we’ll start with a classic pirouette.”

Before Wally even has time to argue, I elegantly twist, spinning delicately in a string of turns, to the jock’s surprise. Coming to a stop, I can’t hide the grin on my face at the fact his jaw is practically on the floor.

“There’s no way I can do that.” He argues, attempting to worm his way out of the task.

“You’ll never know until you try.” I tease, watching as he rolls his eyes before offering me a very obviously fake smile.

I’m unable to contain my laughter as I watch his very pathetic attempt, to which he simply spins in a very ungraceful circle before stumbling awkwardly. Managing to catch himself before hitting the floor, much to my amusement.

“I’m too awkward for this. Football is more my thing.” Wally complains, unimpressed by the hilarity I find at him failing.

“You know, nowadays a lot of footballers actually take ballet to improve their game.” I tell him, though I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Okay, I’ll go easy on you now.”

Despite being no good at dancing whatsoever, Wally tries his very best with every move. Stumbling around the room like a newborn deer, following along with every instruction I give and imitating every different move I show him.

I must admit, it is incredibly cute that he is doing this for me. Wally has zero skills needed to be a dancer. Ungraceful, heavy footed, awkward. Yet he keeps going in order to allow me to blow off the steam that I need to and I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to him.

“Okay, there is one thing I want to try before we finish.” The footballer admits, a cheeky smile settled upon his face. “We have to do the Dirty Dancing move.”

“Oh do we now?” I laugh, finding it highly entertaining that he wants to try a move from a cringey 80s film.

“What? Dirty Dancing is a classic, we watch it pretty much every film night and everybody that has seen that movie wants to try that move at least once.” He confesses, trying to explain his reasoning as a way to avoid any embarrassment.

“Sure okay, just promise not to drop me.”

“I’d be a fool to drop you.”

I shake my head at his words as I walk a short distance away from him. Nerves bubble in my stomach, fearing that this could be an epic disaster and I could go tumbling across the floor. Yet as I run and jump into his arms, I’ve never felt safer than when he holds me tightly above his head. Strong hands gripping my waist hard, ensuring that he won’t let me fall. 

I giggle excitedly when he begins to lower me, holding me close to his body so that I am face to face with him though not quite placing me on the ground. The intensity of his stare makes me feel in a way that I’ve never felt with anyone else before and for the first time since death, I feel safe. I feel comfortable. I feel brave.

Once again, Charlie’s words ring through my head and before I can stop myself my hands are holding his cheeks softly. With every ounce of bravery within me and despite some part deep inside of me screaming no, fearing a repeat of previous situations, I hesitantly brush my lips over his. He’s so gentle, allowing me to lead so as to not push me too far.

Wally’s lips are soft against mine, interlocking slowly and delicately. My stomach feels crazy, the butterflies feel as though they’re trying to escape and I push myself further into the kiss. Allowing passion to take over and quashing the fear as much as physically possible. My arms slide from Wally’s cheeks to his hair, raking my fingers through the dark locks as my legs wrap around his torso in order to provide more stability.

I find myself desperately yearning for more, kissing the footballer with such intensity and heat, I didn’t know I was physically capable of. However, as his hands slowly move from holding my waist to situating themselves just beneath my ass, I struggle to fight the fear and worry residing within me.

As much as I don’t want to, I slowly pull myself away from the dark haired boy. Unwrapping my legs from him, signaling to be placed on the ground, which Wally does so gently. Even as I step away from him, he’s gazing at me with such awe that I feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

“As amazing as that was, I think that’s as far as I want to go for now.” I admit, shame coursing through my veins making me unable to look at Wally afraid that he will judge me, or even worse, become angry. “Is that okay?”

My voice is meek and quiet, terrified of the response I am about to receive. Yet, when Wally’s hand ever so softly touches my chin, raising it to look at him, he has quite possibly the sweetest look on his face. Offering me a warm smile. 

“Of course, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

Heart racing, a sense of accomplishment washes over me. I’m one step closer to processing and I feel a renewed hope that perhaps I can have a normal afterlife. Or at the very least attempt to live peacefully in this eternity without suffering for the rest of time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[schoolspiritsfan14]

the note | wally clark x gn!reader

a/n — this was gonna be more smutty but I didn't feel like it should go down that path, so a gender neutral wally fic it is! Christmas themed because Christmas is year-round, and also I love that little Christmas scene in the new episode

warnings — started out as smut but abandoned the smut part, so there's a few comments about hot and sexy you are. is cringe a warning? not proofread

words — 2.1k (surprisingly short for me omg)

summary — Wally writes you a note in a Christmas card about how he really feels.

~~~

“The things I dream about doing to you…”

Wally sighed, placing the Christmas card down on his desk after penciling those words into the top left corner of its inner blank space. His leg bounced, and he looked off to his left to stare out the window, a mix of snow and green covering the expanse of the field outside. Anything to clear his head and focus, but maybe he shouldn’t have taken a seat in a class that you were currently in, painfully unaware of his existence. Telling you would be so much easier. Showing you, even. He wished a long time ago that he could affect the living world; he wished that he could tell someone who he didn’t already overly annoy that he exists and that he’s not gone. He wished for a lot of things, but he was waiting for a miracle on this one.

Mr. Martin suggested this, a way to cope with the uncontrollable: write a note inside of a Christmas card to someone at the school and send it to them. He said it would be the key to accepting that the only lifeline—from the fun they could have to the ways they could express their feelings of grief about their own feelings to even Wally’s favorite pastime, exercising—could only exist within the walls of this school. Wally was the first to accept this challenge, but that was only because he could think easily of writing it about one of the many living people he found hot. The only thing is that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

He used to be so blunt—and still was—but there used to only be one person that could push him to do the opposite of what he wanted. And he was doing this so that he wouldn’t have to think about her, and yet, this Christmas card was taunting him all the regardless of its stupidly thin presence. 

Why did he even bother writing words down when they would just disappear? When the generically empty cards they teachers swiped these off of returned back to one of the drawers in their desk? How long could he keep pretending that this was more than a glorified way of lessening Mr. Martin’s workload?

He picked it up again and started writing, letting his mind flow.

“The things I dream about doing to you, well, if I could dream. If I could dream, it would be all about you, obviously. You would hear me talking in my sleep like that stupid song by The Romantics, and I’d have the biggest boner because you’re so damn sexy.”

Wally paused, thinking about whether or not he should hold himself back. The card wanted that, to keep its crisp, pure inner-white pages free from the filth he scribbled over it. But he was supposed to be raw, real, and he wanted you in a way that could only best be summed up by coming straight from his mind. No filter. 

He continued writing, 

“I think I’m taking this too fast. Obviously, I would say ‘hi’ to you and I would tell you my name instead of keeping it from you until the end of this. I think I’m already saying obviously too much. Obviously, Wally. Right. Let’s get to the totally rad intro where I introduce myself and break your heart when I tell you that I’m a ghost. Hi, I’m Wally Clark. And I’m haunting the halls of this place like Poltergeist but not really because I’m only freaky like that movie in the parts where it matters. The ghost part is true, and the not seeing me part. Could they see the ghosts in Poltergeist? I don’t actually remember. If you could write me back, I’d love to know what you think about it. Don’t tell me everything, though. I don’t want to think about that weird man-eating tree. It was grody. Maybe you’ll like it. I barfed out halfway through.”

Wally cursed at himself for rambling so much, but if you could read this letter, he would want you to know how the whole ghost-thing worked.

“If you could watch it, all you do is have to speak out loud and I would hear you. It sounds creepy, but I would know at least. And hey! I’m telling you what I would do if I dream about you, and now I’m realizing how much space I wasted writing about some dumb movie you’ll never see. We could watch it together? Date night—you and me? Eight p.m., in the gym?”

This wasn’t like passing notes in the 80s, because you would never feel the card between your fingers. You would never crease it with your hands while you hold on tight to it as you cling to every word—Wally hoped you would do that when he got to the stuff that he felt would rock your world, anyway. 

“I guess I should get into it. We do movie nights here, and I always choose the best ones to watch, and I save the couch for us. I think about putting my letterman over you while we watch the movie so you’re sandwiched by me from the back and the front when I pull you onto me, and you lay on me, and sometimes I wish you could take things from the ghost world like we can from your world. Just so you can have it. I think about you fitting into every spot at this school. I think about doing it in every spot of this school. Every time you wear a new outfit, it makes me go feral. When you wear something I’ve seen, I still love it. You’re the hottest when you wear those clothes that reveal skin all over your body, and you play dumb to the teacher that dresses you because you wanted to feel hot that day. You’re hot. You’ve got my desired approval. I think about walking next to you in the hall—I do, you just can’t see it—and holding your hand as you have your five minutes of fame. Strut down the hall, make everyone’s head turn. You deserve to feel that way, and you deserve the punishment I’d give you for being such a skank. For letting everyone see your rocking bod.”

Wally took a beat to breathe and look over at you. You were wearing clothes that made heat travel to his pants—if blood could flow down to there. He envied the way you looked to the teacher and gave him those eyes he wished you were giving him. The eyes you’re currently giving a forty-year-old balding has-been who doesn’t know the privilege he has to see you every day in his class to just ask him to use the bathroom. He watched your backside as he permitted you to use the restroom, and you stood up and left the room. Thank god, Wally would have left the room to slip this card in your locked locker with a pair of wet sweatpants, or left his desk a mess of sticky white. He returned to the card and noticed that the underside of his hand was smeared with grey lead. The whole card had smudges on his already messy writing, but he continued on,

“Okay, fuck. You’re really going to make me say it? I want you, and I can’t have you, and I hate this power you have over me. Not even my own death holds that much weight, and it’s the thing keeping me from you…”

Wally finished off the letter with a few more blunt thoughts. Anything and everything heedless and stupid was carefully spelled out with the last bit of lead in his pencil. He would get up to sharpen it, but the fear of losing these words until he was ready to let him go took ahold of him. These were words he needed to say, even if you could never read them.

He concluded his thoughts with an aggressive signature at the bottom. He wanted to shut the card and imagine like the words had already reset, melted away from the paper like a bad storm had turned the thick stock into indiscernible mush. His heart was on this paper in a string of words that would only ever make sense to him, but Mr. Martin insisted on the next step he was about to take.

Wally left the room with a couple of minutes to spare, yelling a dramatic Goodbye! to you on the way out. He knew the schedule of the bells so well that he didn’t even need to think about it when he left. He had one destination in mind, and the bell had rung by the time he got there. On the first floor of the school, down the hall with all the English classes, was your locker, right near your homeroom. The lockers had a few slats near the top of each of them, and the card was the perfect width to fit and slide right through. Wally held it in his hands for a second, creasing it with his fingers and thinking of all the things that could happen if you just got to see it. Communication, even this bizarre, would be perfect for him. A place to overshare his actual feelings and not the constantly happy, empty-headed jock he always pretended to be. He had real feelings, and only a fraction of them were captured with stationary. It was more than something for you to read; it was the first step on processing his own feelings, to distract himself from thinking of missing his family’s holiday traditions. You helped him with that, unknowingly. And this was something to pay you back with, for being the unwanted object of his attraction.

Wally lifted the card to the horizontal grooves in the locker, pushing it inside. He heard it scrape against the metal and land on the stuff in your locker. There wasn’t much else he could do besides walk away. The note and all of his raw emotion were gone. Knowing the path you usually took, he expected that you would open your locker and find nothing. So, with the new weight off his chest, Wally moved through the hall, filling with students moving to their next class to throw hoops in the gym or convince the other ghosts to make holiday treats with him.

He went down towards the opposite end of the hall from where you would be coming in, putting an unknown distance between you and him as you walked to your locker. Standing exactly where he had been, you started twisting the lock embedded in the blue metal door to get it open. When you did, a Christmas card fell out and landed on the shiny linoleum.

You reached for it, picking it up and opening the card. The words were a bit faded and smudged, looking too messy to be some joke, so you assumed it was written with pure intentions. It looked to fill up the whole card, the letter written inside even going around the “Happy Holidays” wish written in red and green lettering on the right side of the card. Though, you started to question the legitimacy of it as you read further into it. The stuff about your appearance, and how they admired you from afar made you feel seen in a way that other guys at school were too dumb to see express on their faces or with their words. But ghosts? That part had you questioning what was actually real about this letter, and who was using a dead kid as a sick punchline to this joke of a letter. But the end of it what really got you, it being somehow both too cheesy to take seriously but also too specific to not be straight from the heart.

“It’s so hard to watch someone that you can only have in your fantasy. Every day I think about you and do things that would get me in so much trouble if anyone could see it. I think about you in ways that tell me I really love adore you.” The sentence originally used the word ‘love,’ but it had been scribbled out to become almost unreadable and replaced with the word ‘adore.’

Your eyes scanned over the final few sentences, which really stuck out to you. Unbeknownst to you, it was the first time Wally was at a loss for words. He could always offer support, even if he was bad at it. But this was the hardest thing he found himself trying to say.

“I don’t usually notice the living. They’re boring and lame, but you’re different. I dream about us doing the—“ The sentence ended there and picked up again at the start of a new one. “Well, I can’t describe it. The best way to put it would be doing the most. Everything. Anything. My world tilted off its axis, and it was already upside down. I love you.”

At the bottom of the note, it was signed,

“Worlds apart, 

Wally Clark

Class of ’84”

[schoolspiritsfan14]

my valentine without the word ㆍ୨୧ㆍ wally clark x fem!reader

summary: being boyfriend and girlfriend spirits were easy; they were able to touch, able to feel each other, see each other and everything! but, what wally didn’t think of was the fact every valentine’s day, he can’t ask her to be his valentine since that’s the day she died.

warnings; mentions of y/n death, bubbly! reader, clueless! reader, sweet! reader, wally being a yearner, extreme fluff and soft ending, awkwardness a bit, make-out but no smut

a/n: HEY YALL..but anyways i wanted to write a little wally fic for valentine’s day bc I YEARN FOR HIM ITS SO BAD STOP STOP MAKE IT STOP

sitting on the top bleachers with their hands holding one another, wally pressed his lips against y/n’s sweet and tender ones, she smiled into the kiss and hummed when he let his hand wander and pulled her waist closer to his body.

this was their morning routine, afternoon routine, evening and night. every day they’ll find some alone time and cuddle up with each other, losing time and energy in each other and finding comfort in one another.

today was different, it felt different, the atmosphere was totally off and wally didn’t know what it was, every couple was kissing somewhere, there were pink balloons, heart shaped and all.

he knew exactly what today was, but couldn’t do anything about it.

pulling apart as she kissed his cheek, y/n heard her name be called by sarah, another ghost who’d died from choking on her cucumber at lunch ten years ago, she was nice and sweet, wally didn’t know her personally, but y/n talked about her a lot and he’s bound to listen to every and anything she says.

‘oh, i guess i gotta go, i promised sarah i’d talk to her today, i’ll see you later?’ y/n hummed and tilted her head to the side as wally smiled deeply and pushed his lips against hers one last time, for now

‘okay but promise we’ll meet up in the teachers lounge, i heard words that there’s some cute decor there. I know you’ll love to see’ he smiled as she squealed.

y/n loved anything sweet, soft, kind and gentle. she was bound to date a jock, if they were still alive, he wouldn’t put it past himself that he wouldn’t go for her.

‘okay! i’ll hold you too that’ she smiled and pulled away from his grasp, walking down the bleachers and running to sarah.

sighing he leaned back—‘did you ask her yet?’ yelling and turning to see charley he groaned and rolled his eyes.

‘no..why would i? that’d be a different level of fucked up..i don’t want her to think about it’ wally sighed and looked at the door that y/n had left out of.

‘think about what? valentine’s day? it’s the most cute day for couples, expressing love, kissing each other, holding each other, whispering sweet nothings—‘

‘remembering the day you died on…’ wally looked at charley who left his mouth agap, frowning his eyebrows and gasping.

‘wait, she died on valentine’s day? the sweetest girl, bubbly, nice, beautiful, kind, loving, and supportive girl died on valentine’s day? how even…’ he was confused, y/n shared how she died in an embarrassing and traumatic way never when she died especially on this day.

‘yeah..she never told you?’ wally turned and was shocked, he’d assumed she told everyone by now, it’s been years, but he wouldn’t if he were her.

‘no..no? what happened? if you can tell me’ he wanted to know, charley needed to know, if it was so embarrassing it would probably cure him from being a gay who died of a nut allergy.

‘well..i mean..if i tell you, you didn’t hear this from me! i don’t want to tell you but she said she’d tell you guys more about it tomorrow so ill tell you’

‘okay! okay! just yeah..tell me everything’ he got comfortable next to wally and waiting for him to start it.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

walking down the school hallway with her hair in a half up half down and a bow on the hair tie, y/n hummed and smiled to herself while she thought about her secret love letter she got in her locker.

she was a huge romantic and seeing that made her whole day, her whole valentine’s day.

the letter had said—

to the most beautiful girl in school, i want to confess my love to you but im afraid. afraid of what you’ll think of me and afraid of what you might say. meet me behind the school after school so i can confess my deep love and affection for you, y/n l/n, my sweetest memory.

from your secret admire.

she was star struck, she heard rumors of people having a crush on her but she never listened to the because they never said anything to her directly, she loved love and wanted to feel it more than anything, but hearing rumors and fake news made her dislike love from school more than anything.

it was the last period and she’d been drawing hearts on her paper, red and pink. smiling to herself while holding the letter in her pink knitted pocket.

wondering to herself who could it be? what does he look like, or what does she look like? are they tall or short? silly or serious? dangerous or nothing like it?

she was in a daze.

at the end of the day, waiting in her deep red car, she sat and waited, everyone leaving the premise, the sun setting and the moon coming to show its softness, she was nervous.

getting out of her car and walking to the back of the school, she looked down to see red rose petals on the ground and smiled wide, her face warming up and her eyes shining.

following the rose petals she looked up and smiled at the huge letters of ‘would you be my valentine’. gasping and giggling to herself whilst looking at the table of heart shaped chocolates and flowers she touching them softly.

‘y/n?’ turning around she jumped and suppressed a gasp. what was he doing here? was this allowed?

‘mr. smith..i’m sorry i—‘

‘no no..don’t apologize..besides i’m the one who asked you to be here’

what.

‘i’m sorry?’ she knew exactly what he meant.

‘it’s just..i know that this isn’t normal but i know that this is real, what i feel for you? it’s all real, and i know you love me too, you show it all the time! smiling, laughing at me, staying after class—‘

‘mr.smith..i’m..no? i’m sorry i don’t understand..i stay after class for help on my work i don’t—‘

‘no no no don’t play with me i know what you feel i know it’s real, i know that you love me, i love you just as much, even more if anything!’ He stepped closer as she stepped back, hitting the table of flowers and chocolates.

how long did this take him to plan, did he really feel this way for her, she’s sixteen for heaven sake and he’s forty nine, he has a wife and she’s pregnant, where did she go wrong.

‘mr.smith please..i need to get home—‘

‘no!’

jumping she gasped and held a hand over her mouth as he tried to calm himself, breathing in and out with his eyes closed he shook his head—‘no..you haven’t even touched your chocolates yet..please..just..please’ sighing she walked sirius the table to that it was between him and her.

‘i’d i eat this..will you let me go home..please’ she begged. he looked like he was thinking to himself, weighing out the options and signing.

‘of course!’ she sighed and gulped, picking up a milk chocolate heart and slowly pushing it into her mouth she chewed, and swallowed.

‘there..now—‘ gulping while she felt something in her body move, almost as if something just shut down, she closed her eyes and hummed.

‘sh sh sh..’ walking to y/n who kept opening and closing her eyes she frowns and groaned, her whole body felt so heavy, out of place and like water.

what..she’d be drugged of course.

a popular teacher amongst the town who fell in love with his sixteen year old student just confessed his love. of course he knew the odds of her returning them, that’s why he did this.

‘mr…’ she hummed and almost fell but he caught her body, his hand on her cheek to hold her head up as her light pink kitten healed foot bent, losing her balance. the only thing keeping her afloat was his grip around her waist and his hand on her neck and face.

‘it’s okay my sweet, it’s alright, sh sh sh’ he brought her body down on to the stage floor. his knees present against the wood as she was passed out cold, her mind shut down completely and he shoved more chocolate down her throat.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

‘the last thing she remembers is waking up in the stage floor and the whole room was empty, her body was sore and she said it felt like she was walking on nothing. later that week she’d even ignored by everyone and anyone, her parents had come to look for her even when she yelled in their face that she was right there.’ wally clutched his fist in anger and sorrow for her.

charley sat there in pure silence and shock, the overwhelming feeling of pity filled his every being. horror and sadness were very apparent in the both of them.

‘then the next week after that, she’d started hearing rumors about her death, that she was strangled, and shoved in the back of the costume room. the autopsy report being overdose, the last thing she ate being chocolate..every time she sees one she gets physically sick..’ wally shook his head as he remembers the time she ran out of the room when a student dropped a box of chocolate in front of her and she wasn’t seen for the rest of the day until he visited her.

‘he was caught, a month later, in a room filled with her pictures and a lock of her hair in his grip, supposedly he still keeps it to this day in jail’ wally finished off as he looked at charley who’s been shut down.

his mouth hung open and his eyes watching wally.

‘but..does she know he’s still alive?’

‘yeah, of course she does, she listens to the teacher lounge every day for any news about him dying, she reads the newspapers and watches the news when it’s on’ wally stood up and walked down the bleachers with charley following.

‘so wait, i understand how fucked up and traumatic that is but why won’t you just ask her to be your valentine you know? without the fancy decorations, without any sweets or anything, what about like..pizza? or a hot dog?’ he suggested.

‘nah..i don’t want her to hear the word from me at least and get any form of flash back, i couldn’t fathom it if i cause her pain in any way even if its involuntary..I just wanted her to have a sweet day without anything happening.’ wally walked as charley followed.

there weren’t many places to go but at the moment the cafe was the hot spot, y/n had been off somewhere, post likely the acting class with sarah still.

‘well i don’t think if you say “will you be my valentine” without saying it, she’ll have any kind of flashback’ he suggested.

wally turned and was interested.

‘how do i say it without saying it?’

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

walking down to the teachers lounge as wally fixed his hair, he straightened his back and cracked his neck.

charley’s words ringing and replaying in his head as he saw her.

standing with her small heeled shoes; pink knitted sweater and white dress, her hair tied back and with a bow, she turned and smiled.

‘wally!’ walking fastly to him and wrapping her arms around his neck he smiled and held his hand on her small back, holding it and kissing her deeply.

she smelt so nice every time he was around her. her whole being was enough to be a drug for him if anything.

‘aw did you miss me today?’ he teased as she nodded with a smile.

‘i was thinking about you all day! i wanted to ditch sarah and come to you so bad but i didn’t want to be a bad friend’ she laughed as he did as well, his arms holding her against himself.

‘i was thinking about nothing but you, i wanted to do something for you..something small, y’know. for our day’ he smiled, trying to avoid the words, the day, today, and valentine’s day.

‘awh, our day? what do you have planned’ she wondered; tilted her head to the side while her earring hoops moved as well.

‘come on!’ He tugged her hand and lead he outside.

walking to the garden that the school had, he opened the door and they sat down on the silver bench, it was a bit chilly but the breeze settled it evenly.

‘you wanted to come outside?’

‘yeah, i mean, it’s a nice day, the flowers have bloomed, look’ she turned from his eyes and looked at the pink flowers on the ground. gasping she smiled at them.

‘oh, this is sweet’ she smiled and turned to wally who looked like he was suffocating.

‘baby you okay—‘

‘but y’know, we can also go to the lounge, any classroom, the rooftop! it doesn’t matter, or our favorite secret spot?’ he grinned and pressed his nose against hers and smiled while he kissed her softly.

she smiled into it but frowned and pulled away.

‘wait, so your not going to ask me?’ she pulled away while looking at his lips, her pointer finger touching his chin while her eyes then moved up to his own.

‘..ask you what?’ he asked dumbly

‘wally..you know what’ she scolded, her eyebrows frowning—‘wally come on..’

‘i can’t! you know i can’t and i won’t!’ he shook his head while she placed a hand on his cheek.

‘wally..’

‘no y/n i’m serious. if i bring up anything, any pain, any memory; any regrets and trauma i will lose myself and i can’t do that to you because i can’t hurt you. i can’t..’

‘wally…your not hurting me by asking me to be your valentine..you never ask me! this is the sixth year you didn’t ask me! i let the other five pass because i wanted you to say it without me saying anything but please..it’s cute! it’s a beautiful day it’s..it’s not why i died..’ she whispers the last part; his eyebrows pulling together.

a small frown on her lips as she let her fingers play with his ear, a weird calming touch for him and a note for her to let her know he was there.

‘i didn’t die because of valentine’s day i just so happened to be killed by some weirdo who thought i liked him..im over thinking about it..i want you to be my valentine if you’ll have me?’ she smiled at the final part and he smiled back, laughing and nodding as she hummed.

‘yeah?’ she encourages as he nodded more—‘yes..yes, will you be my valentine?’ he smiled as his lips brushed hers and she nodded with a smile.

‘of course wally clark’ pushing herself into his lips as he closed his eyes, he hummed and held the back of her neck, their kiss deepening and her hands touching his chest and neck.

pulling apart to breath into each others mouth before pushing back into it, wally leaned back onto the bench and let y/n on top of him, her hand on his chest and his holding her waist.

she smiled as he groaned a bit. moving her face and nibbling his neck.

gripping her waist and resisting the urge to push his hips up against hers. she smiled and whispered—‘i’m not afraid of chocolates anymore, you can get me some of those too’ he smiled as she hovered over his face and leaned down to kiss her sweet.

holding the neck of his valentine .

[schoolspiritsfan14]

Rhonda Rosen - Memory Loop

Edit made in July 2025.

[schoolspiritsfan14]

Annnnd crying

Z-O-M-B-I-E-S 4: Dawn of the Vampires

[schoolspiritsfan14]

I created a Wally Clark community if anyone would like to join to share new fics, edits etc

[schoolspiritsfan14]

My camera roll looks like this now and I’m not even dating him 😅

pov: your camera roll while dating Milo Manheim 🩷🥹