sara

19 | she/her | shitty writing | lesbian

[enchxanting]

our love is god (table of contents)

i felt like i should put all the chapters together and tag this on each post, so here it is:

one

two

three

four

five

six

seven

eight

nine

ten

eleven

i'll continue to update this as i add more parts!

[vanpalmr]

TAISSA TURNER & VAN PALMER YELLOWJACKETS 2.07 | 2.08

[amygobrrr]

been thinking today about jackie's reaction to seeing tai & van kiss

[96yellowjackets]

TAI & VAN YELLOWJACKETS 1.03

[enchxanting]

this gifset will haunt me forever what do you MEANNNNNN they were so in love

[coyluvr]

shauna shipman is so tragic to me because like...the girl who you shared your very being with dies and each segment of you that holds her is slowly rotting away. You sit beside her corpse and while your guilt and malice and devotion can hold her form, it won't feed your hunger. So you eat her ear, because you will always be the first to consume her, then the other girls eat her too because nothing gets to be yours alone when it comes to her. But her flesh feeds your baby, and when you give birth, she becomes part of him too. Then he dies too, and you bury him in the snow, so he can be yours alone, so he can know the cold like Jackie did. And then your rescued, and you latch onto anything that remains of her. Her favorite flower covers your walls, you see her parents every week, her boyfriend is yours and your daughter is her. And then you realise, they can be taken too. So you isolate yourself, let that severing wound she left become necrotic, because you've tried healing it with others, but it just takes them too. Then you meet a guy. He's funny and makes you feel young, and he's devoted to you the way she was. And that rotting wound begins to seal up. But you grow suspicious, and those months of fear fog your mind, and your scared, so you do what you know best. You bite. And now he's dead. And the wound is open again.

[houngod-deactivated20260408]

in the pilot jackie teases shauna abt her “catholic phase” and to that shauna responds that she liked the saints bc she thought they were “so tragic”. in the last ep of s1 during their fight the first insult shauna calls jackie is tragic. she calls her other things too but its so intresting that the first thing she thinks of is tragic. to me thats like a freudian slip. jackie was shaunas saint.

[djo]

YELLOWJACKETS 1.01: Pilot

[jesterscircus]

good luck, babe! - chappell roan

[scream-source]

MELISSA BARRERA as SAM CARPENTER SCREAM VI (2023) dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 11

read part 10 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: discussion of suicide, attempting and faking

cw: (fake) suicide, mild gore / body horror (? if you squint), guns

a/n: back from the dead. the party ended an hour ago and she's still here (me still writing this fic when the scream vi/ethan landry fandom is basically dead and it's almost 2025). i'm gonna finish this even if it kills me bc my mom didn't raise a quitter. im also on ao3 btw

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“Wake up.”

Fuck, I must have fallen asleep on my desk. I lift my head up groggily, unsticking the open page of my diary from my forehead. I look around for the source of the voice before feeling a tap on my shoulder. “Boo.”

I turn and my blood goes cold. Tara stands in front of me, lips and chin stained with a disgusting blue, leafing through my copy of Moby Dick. She grins, and her teeth are bloody. “Surprised to see me?”

“What the actual fuck,” I say. “How are you here?”

That makes her laugh. “It’s your guilty conscience, Y/N. But I’m glad for the reprieve. The afterlife is so boring.”

“Tara,” I begin, “I am so, so sorry. I had no idea–”

She waves me off, taking a seat on my bed. “Save it. There is literally nothing you can say to make this,” she gestures to her face, “okay. Let’s move on.”

My eyes well with tears. I know this can’t be real, but even then, it feels so good to see her again, to hear her voice.

“You haven’t called Anika,” she says, after a moment.

My heart clenches. “Fuck, I know. It’s just all been so crazy. And I’ve been with Ethan…”

She rolls her eyes and stands, crossing her arms. “Not that she’d be able to pick up the phone, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was on the news, Y/N. She stepped into the freeway holding a suicide note. A real one.”

My blood goes cold. “Oh my god, Tara, is she dead?”

She doesn’t look at me. “Just some broken bones. The car wasn’t going fast enough. Trying to imitate me, I guess.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s not fucking funny.” I’m crying now, face hot and heart thumping.

“Sorry, you’re right. What’s funny is you're still listening to your psycho boyfriend even after he killed me.”

“What happened to moving on?” I choke out.

She sighs. “Sorry, you’re right. That’s one of the things I’m supposed to be working on, up in heaven, you know.”

I sink back into my desk chair. “Everything is so fucking wrong.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I have no clue. Ethan is psycho but I can’t get rid of him. If I go to the cops I’d have to admit my involvement in the whole thing. Plus, he’d probably find a way to pin it on me. He’s so persuasive. Every time I’m with him I get confused.”

“Well, see if you can hold strong this time.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

She points to the window. “Knock, knock.”

I go over and peer through the blinds. Climbing up my tree is Ethan, eyes wild and pistol between his teeth. I gasp and stumble back from the window. What the fuck do I do?

“Yo, girl, fucking keep it together,” Tara says, and she’s right. I have to stay calm. What would Nancy Drew do? Or Wendy Torrance?

Or better yet– what would Ethan do?

I hear a solid thump as he lands on the roof of our porch, right underneath my room. I run into the closet, barely locking it behind me as I hear him climb through the window. 

“Hi, Y/N. Sorry for barging in through the window– dreadful etiquette, I know, But I thought your parents wouldn’t let me in.”

“Get out of my house,” I say, voice hoarse. “We’re done.”

“Come on,” he whines, “I thought all was forgiven. You and I, we’re like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“You’re sick.”

“You like that,” he hisses, and I can tell he’s right up against the door. “Seriously, Y/N, what happened to ‘I love you?’”

I don’t respond. Instead, I reach for an old belt and footstool tucked away in a corner. His fist slams against the door. “What, you’re not going to say anything?”

Using the footstool to reach, I tie the tail end of the belt to a beam on the ceiling. Carefully, I loop the other end around itself, sure to actually slide the buckle through the tightest hole, snug around my chin. God, I hope this works.

I hear Ethan step away from the door. “Y/N, I’m going to count to three. Come out of there.”

He pauses for a second, and when I don’t respond, he scoffs. “Fine. One… two… fuck it.”

He slams his whole body against the door, and I close my eyes, kicking the stool out from under me.

I hear him gasp, and the sound of his knees hitting the carpet. “Oh my god– Y/N–” he chokes out.

I feel him grasp my leg, and it takes everything in me not to flinch away. “Why would you do this?” he sobs. “You were the only person I had left… we almost…”

After a moment, he lets go and rises to his feet, and I hear the rustle of his jacket as he wipes away his tears. “I wasn’t going to go through with it. But if I can’t have your love, he’s right. Everyone has to suffer.”

Who is? I think, but I hear Ethan’s footsteps retreat back to the window. I wait until I hear the sound of his tire treads screeching against the asphalt to open my eyes and grab the shelves on the side of my closet to steady myself, pulling my head out of the loop I'd made.

“Clever,” Tara quips. I’d forgotten she was there. “I guess through the tears he didn’t realize you weren’t actually choking. He’s a little melodramatic, huh?”

“I have to stop him. No one else can do it, not the FBI, not the CIA, not the PTA. I don’t know what he’s planning, but someone is going to get hurt.”

“Well, don’t forget that.” I look to where she’s pointing at the bottom of my closet, where Ethan’s gun lies, forgotten in the heat of the moment. 

“Shit,” I say. 

“He finally slipped up.”

Tara and I look at each other. I give her a half-hearted smile. “You know, I might be seeing you soon if this doesn’t work out.”

“Don’t say that, Y/N. Go fucking get him. For Mindy, and Chad, and Anika, and me.”

She grabs my hand, and my eyes well up again, but when I blink them away, she’s gone, and I’m standing alone in my room, hand outstretched to the air.

I sigh. “One more dance, Ethan.”

dm or reply to be added to my taglist

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 10

read part 9 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: slight violence, blood, murderous fantasies, and obsessive behavior

a/n: that awkward moment when you go to college and forget how to write fic. lol <3. here you go, im getting back into it so just a short chapter.

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Dear Diary,

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK!

How the hell could I let this happen? What the fuck?

How does fighting with your best friend turn into triple homicide? How does getting a boyfriend make you an accomplice? A few weeks ago I was a girl with a crush, and now my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

I didn’t sleep last night. Ethan dragged me out of the house into his car. I was shaking the whole time. It didn’t feel real. We were speeding back to my house, swinging wildly around corners, and I remembered the way Mindy’s sliced throat bubbled with blood. I threw up all over myself and the passenger seat of Ethan’s car. That only scared me more. I thought he’d pull over and kill me right then, he seemed so manic, but he only glanced over and laughed. Fucking laughed. 

That wasn’t even the sickest thing, though. He finally got to my house and I went to get out of the car, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back so hard I thought he’d dislocate it. He didn’t say anything, but his expression was so terrifying I got the message: don’t say shit. 

My parents barely noticed when I came home. They didn’t even realize I’d been out. Typical. My boyfriend killed the only people who cared if I lived or died. Except him, of course. 

The sick thing is that I can’t forget that sweet, shy boy from the cafeteria. Whenever I see him it’s like I shut down. Like a deer in headlights. I’ve got no control over myself when I’m with Ethan. He brought me to his place, again. Just showed up in his car. I thought it was better to do what he wanted.

Thank god no school tomorrow.

Y/N

As soon as I close my diary, I feel a familiar presence behind my shoulders. I tense as he wraps his arms around my neck. 

“Relax, Y/N,” Ethan says. “It’s like you saw a ghost.”

I’m still scared shitless by him, but his comment makes me so mad that I push him off and rise from the living-room couch. “What the fuck, Ethan?”

His mouth widens into a toothy grin. “A little dark humor, sorry. Just trying to lighten your mood.”

I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response. He rolls his eyes and flops onto the couch. “So, who’s next? Should we kill Anika? Could be another suicide thing– not much to live for after your girlfriend and her brother and his kinda-girlfriend bite it. Or maybe Sam? She’s the reason you were even at Tara’s place that morning, after all.”

My blood runs cold. I open my mouth to say something, but the door slams. “Jesus, kids, you’re sure making a lot of fucking noise.” 

Ethan’s dad waltzes in, smiling ear to ear. His shirt is partially unbuttoned and his hair and tie are askew. Sergeant Bailey smells like cigars, and I wrinkle my nose before I can stop myself. 

Ethan rolls his eyes. “Celebrating, dad?”

The sarge pretends not to notice Ethan’s tone. “As a matter of fact, yes. We investigated and intercepted a pretty high-level bomb threat today. The captain took us out to celebrate. Still an asshole, though. I should be doing his job.”

“Bomb threat?”

“Yeah. A gnarly one, too. Some office building in the east of town. They put a Norwegian in the boiler room and a bunch of thermals upstairs that were gonna be set off after. Luckily the bomb squad got there before the clock reached zero. The captain…”

He keeps chattering about the details of his day and his “fucking idiot” of a boss, but it all fades out when Ethan gets that look in his eye again. I know this one: it’s the same look from the funeral. His eyes are stony. He’s forming a plan. 

I can’t be in this house any more. I feel myself run out the door, and I almost make it to the street before a tight grip fastens itself around my waist. I kick and yell but to no avail. Ethan tightens his grip around me and kisses me, muffling my screams. I’m so claustrophobic, I can hardly breathe.

As he deepens this kiss, I do the only thing I can think of: I bite his lip, hard. He yelps and lets me go, and we both fall back onto the grass. He brings his hand down from his mouth, and I can see a trickle of blood on his fingers. “Cute, Y/N. Very fucking cute.”

“Leave me alone. We’re done. Whatever this thing is, it’s over.”

He grins, and there’s blood in his teeth. “You can’t bring them back. You’ve got to know that.”

I feel hot tears welling up. “I’m not trying to bring back anything, you psycho, except maybe myself.”

His face hardens. “I love you, Y/N. I love you a whole fucking lot. I’ve made that pretty clear. And you know what I can do. To anyone. For you. To you. So you’ll be back.”

His threat makes my head spin. I scramble back towards the road. For a second, I think he’s going to follow me, but he makes no move to get up.

When I hit cement, I turn on my heels and run. The sting of the wind burns my tear-tracked cheeks, but I don’t stop or slow until I’m safely upstairs in my bedroom with the door locked. 

Dear Diary,

Am I going to homecoming, or hell?

taglist: @miawastakens dm or reply to be added!

[enchxanting]

Whoops I went to college

Pt. 10 coming soon

[dizscreams]

“I’M HIS PRETTY PARTY FAVOR, HE SAYS IM HIS FAVORITE FLAVOR”

— Ethan Landry ★

PAIRING: Spider-Man!Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

SUMMARY: Spider-Man helps you out of party cuz ur WASTED and then Spider-Man is actually Ethan what?! OMGG!! Then it’s a cute moment but no confessing 😰 maybe it needs a part two? Who knows.

A/N: sorry for all the Spider-Man!Ethan content lately, he’s just living in my brain rent free rn 🫣

TAGS: @ourloveisgod23 @xyzstar @wenvierismycomfort @wekiamo @beary-rambles @aesthetixhoe @c8rdigan @aqellano @teyamsgirll @mbankfav @gabbylovesreading @brakke-dino @astermath

Ethan entered the frat party with one goal and one goal only, to make sure his friends were okay. He only knew this party was happening because he was patrolling tonight and saw it and plus Chad had texted him to join you guys. You guys being Chad, Mindy, Anika, Tara, and you.

Ethan said he had Econ and couldn’t make it, which was a lie he constantly told. He really needed to come up with a new one.

Ethan was worried for his friends safety because the infamous Ghostface killer was back. I mean who would throw a party in a time like this? Let alone actually go to one. But he didn’t blame you guys, you were all stressed and scared. He was just glad it was a Halloween party so he could blend in easier since he still had his suit on.

He pushed past sweaty drunk teenagers and found his way to the living room where he found Mindy and Anika on the couch. Two down three more to go, Tara, Chad, and you. He wondered toward the kitchen and found Tara drinking, he’d definitely need to check in on her later. And he found Chad near the stairs, but the only person he couldn’t find was you.

Where were you? Ethans searched the party like twelve times and he couldn’t see you. It would probably help if he knew what you were dressed as. Just as he turned around to start at the front of the house again he bumped into somebody, “Oh, I’m so sorry-” he paused when he saw you. You were wearing a Spider-Man costume without the mask and your hair was slightly messy. You looked like you’d been drinking.

“Heyyy, we’re matching!” You stumbled forward and Ethan quickly caught you. “Yeah, I guess we are,” he chuckled. You were matching and it was quite adorable to Ethan but his main concern was getting you home safely. “Yours looks a lot better than- than mine though. Where’d you get yours? I just got mine off of Amazon,” you rambled as you played with the hem of Ethan’s mask. He gulped and gently took your hand away, now holding it.

“I just got it from.. from a friend. I’m borrowing it,” he lied. “Oh, cool. Do you want a drink? I can get you a drink?” Ethan quickly shook his head at your ask, “I’m alright, thank you though. I think you should find your friends and go home.” Someone bumped into you so the arm that Ethan had wrapped around your waist pulled you closer to him while his other hand was still holding yours. You kinda looked like a couple.

You shook your head, “I don’t know where the-they are. They’re probably partyinngg!” You exclaimed with a laugh. “Hey, who are you by the way?” Ethan was taken back by your question but he realized that you thought he was a complete stranger. You didn’t know he was Ethan Landry, you didn’t even know he was the real Spider-Man. You just thought it was a costume.

You removed the hand that was holding Ethan’s, much to his dismay, and you put it to his face. You examined him through the mask he was wearing and turned his head to the left and then to the right. “What are you doing?” Ethan asked confused. “You’re the real Spider-Man aren’t you? That’s why your costume looks so good! You’re him-!” Ethan quickly put a hand over your mouth and took your hand, “Lets go outside.”

You followed him outside the house party and stumbled down the steps. “So are you the real one? Or not?” He helped you down the last step so you wouldn’t eat shit on the concrete and led you to the side of the house. “This is getting creepy man-” Ethan interrupted you by ripping the mask off of his face. Your mouth dropped open, “Ethan? When did you get here?” He looked around to make sure nobody was near and got closer to you. He held your shoulders and got close to your face. “Ethan? What’s-”

“Okay, I need you to listen to me and you cannot tell anyone, okay?” You nodded at him and he continued, “Okay, I’m Spider-Man,” he said slowly hoping you could comprehend what he was telling you. Ethan could practically see the gears in your head turning and he saw your confused expression turn into a smile, then a laugh. “You-you’re Spider-Man? How much did you drink Ethan?” You asked through laughs as you poked his cheek.

“I didn’t drink anything-” he said swatting your hand away, “I’m telling the truth and I’m serious you can’t tell anyone.” You laughed again, “Okay, whatever Ethan. You have my word,” you said humorously. It was clear you didn’t believe him and he didn’t blame you. This was probably the worst possible time to tell you. He’s not even sure why he was telling you. Ethan sighed as he put his arm around you again to hold you up, “Okay, lets get you home.”

You nodded and let him walk you back to your dorm. It was chilly and your thin costume didn’t help. Ethan noticed your shiver and held you closer to him, “We’re almost there, don’t worry.” You responded with an inaudible noise and put your head against his shoulder.

When you guys made it there he grabbed the key from your shaky hands and went inside. He walked you to your bedroom and you flopped on the bed. Ethan put his mask on your dresser and went over to you. “Tired?” He asked and you nodded. He smiled softly and took off your shoes before pulling the covers over you and tucking you in. He took a moment to look at you, your hair was still slightly in your face but you looked peaceful.

“Hey Ethan?”

“Hm?”

“I believe you, about you being Spider-Man.”

He chuckled, “You wont remember this tomorrow.”

You ignored him and kept talking, “It makes sense because you’re always disappearing. And it makes sense because one time I saw the Spider-Man suit in your closet but I assumed it was for Halloween even though it was like April,” you giggled and he smiled at you.

“Hey Ethan?”

“Hm?”

“Why’d you tell me you were Spider-Man?”

He thought about it for a moment, “I don’t know I guess I didn’t want you to think you were being kidnapped by a Spider-Man wannabe.” You giggled and shook your head, “Is that the only reason?” He stayed silent and you nodded in understanding. You wouldn’t tell him but you were hoping he told you because he trusted you and because he wanted to be more than friends but maybe that was a lot to ask.

“Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” He looked at you hesitantly and you scooted away from the edge of the bed. “Please, Eth?” You patted the spot next to you and he sat down. You two stayed silent for a moment before you put your hand on his cheek, “You’re really pretty, you know th-that?” You hiccuped and he smiled bashfully. “You’re drunk.”

“Nuh-uh”

“Uh-huh”

You smiled and closed your eyes, “Ya know, I’ll sleep a lot better knowing New Yorks friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is Ethan Landry.” He laughed and watched as your smile faded to a relaxed expression. And soon after he heard your small snores. He moved the hair from your face and stood up. He wasn’t sure what you meant by that exactly and he knew you probably wouldn’t remember this tomorrow, but he was grateful for the moment anyway.

He wouldn’t let it get to his head though. He’s liked you for a long time now but he wasn’t ready to confess yet. Ethan looked at you one more time before grabbing his mask and putting it on. He climbed out your window and swung away.

Who was he kidding, if you actually remembered this tomorrow he would definitely confess his love to you.

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 9

read part 8 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: graphic depictions of violence, literary gore, major character death

a/n: we are winding down on this series, so if you have any requests or suggestions please leave them for me! i need some inspo for my next story, but I'm also gonna do some short stuff in between.

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I’ve been sitting outside of Mindy and Chad’s place for way longer than appropriate. I know that they probably know I’m here, but I can’t make myself get out of the car.

It’s not that I don’t want to see them. I really, really do. I want to see them so badly that I swallowed my grief and guilt and got cleaned up for the first time in days. I just can’t shake the way Ethan looked at Chad and me earlier. I clench the steering wheel tighter. I’ve never seen that kind of rage, like he wanted to–

No. I push that thought away. It’s time, anyway, for me to stop being a baby and go inside. I double-check one last time that I have my bag, keys, and phone, before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

I can hear music coming from the house, even though the door is closed. The twins have a habit of blasting their speakers, which the neighbors hated until they moved away over the summer. Now, Mindy and Chad can destroy their eardrums whenever they please. 

Letting myself in, I drop my bag in the mudroom before following the sound of voices to the kitchen. Chad is hunched over the stovetop, and Mindy is sitting at the kitchen island with her chin in her hands. She perks up when she sees me, giving me a signature Mindy smirk.

“Well, look who decided to show up, huh?”

Chad throws me a smile over his shoulder. “Hey, leave her alone, Minds. She’s just in time for dinner!”

“Thanks, you guys,” I say. “What are we having?”

“Only my original pasta dish, of course,” Chad steps aside to reveal a mess of tomatoes, Parmesan containers, and empty plastic sleeves of bacon, for some reason. “It got a little out of hand. But it’s delicious!”

I laugh, and Chad smiles even wider. It fills me with something I haven’t felt in a while: contentment. There is literally nowhere else I’d rather be right now.

Mindy and Chad usher me to the dining room table, which they actually set with real cloth napkins and placemats. I’m impressed. Usually, my dinners at the Meeks-Martin house have been chips and cold pizza at 3 AM during sleepovers.

The food is perfect. I don’t know what Chad put in it, or where he found the recipe (if there was a recipe), but the food puts me in a good mood. We laugh and talk until we’ve finally stuffed ourselves. Chad is the last one to tap out, and he immediately retires to the living room to digest, claiming chef privileges that exempt him from cleanup.

“Clear the table with me, Y/N?” Mindy asks.

“Of course.” I grab a couple plates and silverware and follow Mindy back to the kitchen. I start folding placemats as she loads the dishwasher.

“Thanks for the dinner. You got all fancy for me, I see,” I tease. “Where are your parents, by the way?”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, you love that we’re spoiling you. They’re at a friend’s house tonight or something. Won’t be back until later.”

“What about Anika? I thought she’d come for sure.”

“Nah, her parents have her under house arrest. They’re spooked by– um. You know. Even though it wasn’t some psycho this time. It was just… Tara.”

I go quiet. Mindy is choked up again.

“I just can’t believe she’d do it,” she whispers.

“I know,” I say. “I guess sometimes it just gets to be too much–” “No, that’s the thing though,” Mindy interrupts. “It wasn’t. I was just talking to her about the attacks last year, right before. She said she felt like she was finally free, finally moving on. And it’s like I said, we were making plans. Real plans. She started an application to college. And she was looking for summer jobs, trying to save money for room and board. These aren’t things suicidal people do, Y/N.”

My throat feels tight. “What are you saying?”

She puts a hand over her forehead and takes a deep breath. “I’m saying that something isn’t right. What if some, like, freaky Ghostface disciple actually killed her?”

“Jesus, Mindy, are you serious?” I turn to see Chad in the doorway, a pained expression on his face. I didn’t hear him come in. 

“This isn’t one of your horror movies,” he continues, and I hear his voice trying not to break. “Sometimes life is just unfair.”

“But think about it!” Mindy continues. “She was partying, she was living. Yes, she was mad at Sam, but she got in those fights all the time! And the report said she hadn’t deadbolted the door that morning, and I know she hadn’t cracked that copy of The Bell Jar they found– she was just saying she had to SparkNotes the whole thing for class.”

“Enough, Mindy, I’m fucking serious.” Chad’s voice is raised, louder than I’ve ever heard it, But Mindy doesn’t back down. She turns to me, expectantly.

“You were basically her best friend, Y/N.” Her voice is low and intense. “Seriously. What do you think? You know that Tara wouldn’t do that.”

I look between their faces, and all of the guilt I thought I had started to let go of rises to the top. I have to tell them the truth. 

I shut my eyes tight and a tear rolls down my cheek. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” I feel Chad put a hand on my shoulder. It’s getting hard to breathe again. 

“I- I-” I stammer. “Me, and Ethan, we–”

But I’m cut off by the sound of strangled screaming. I open my eyes and my blood goes cold.

Mindy’s throat is slashed, dripping blood down her neck onto her t-shirt. Behind her is a figure in a black cloak and a white mask: Ghostface.

Ghostface lets go of Mindy, and she sinks to the floor. Even though I can’t reach her to check, I feel in my bones that she’s gone. My stomach turns into knots. I back up towards the countertop. Dear Diary: This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

Chad fumbles for a weapon on the knife block, but all of the knives have been removed. He grabs a meat tenderizer from the counter. “Fucking run, Y/N,” he roars, and I’m snapped out of my trance.

Ghostface lunges towards Chad, but he gets one hit in with the kitchen implement, hitting him in the chest. He stumbles backward, and I make a break back towards the dining room. I hear the sound of plates hitting the ground and animalistic sounds of exertion, but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear Chad screaming. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the glint of a knife as it plunges in and out of Chad’s chest. Chad coughs up blood as he falls to his knees, but Ghostface doesn’t let up. He raises his knife and delivers one last blow, clean into Chad’s heart.

I let out a guttural scream. Ghostface turns towards me, wiping his knife clean between his robed fingers. I’m paralyzed with fear. Any survival skills I might have picked up from watching countless horror films are gone– I can’t even run.

He stalks towards me, and I close my eyes, preparing for the worst. But the blow never comes. Instead, I’m enveloped in an embrace of fabric.

I open my eyes to see the eyes of the blood-stained mask staring right at me. Slowly, the figure raises their hand, grabbing the base of the headpiece. My breathing quickens, and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest as he slowly pulls the mask off to reveal a mop of brown curls.

No.

No.

Ethan gives me a big toothy grin. “Hey, beautiful.”

I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything. He must be able to tell, because he lets out a throaty laugh. “Surprised?”

“How– how could you?” I manage to choke out. “Why… would you do this?”

“I did it for you, Y/N. For us. Do you know how close that freak Mindy was getting to figuring out the truth? You heard her. And then we’d both be in prison. Separate. Alone.”

“But Chad,” I sob. “Why would you hurt him?”

His face darkens. “Now that one, I have to admit, was fucking selfish. He wanted you, I know it. He fucking wanted you, but you’re mine.”

I can’t say anything. I’m shaking with fear, anger, confusion, everything. 

Ethan frowns. “I worship you, Y/N. I'd trade my life so you can live. I killed them for you.”

“No, no, I didn’t want– I never asked–”

“I love you, Y/N,” he growls. “Tell me you love me.” His grip grows tighter, and I finally notice the tip of the knife at my back.

What else can I say?

“I love you too, Ethan,” I concede, voice wavering.

He relaxes, and the knife clatters to the floor. “Good,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

He grabs me by the wrist and leads me out the door. As we travel through the kitchen, I shut my eyes tight. Ethan stops us. 

“Look,” he growls.

I force my eyes open and choke down my nausea at the sight of the twins’ bodies. Ethan grabs my face and pulls me into a deep kiss.

“For you, Y/N. All for you.”

taglist: @miawastakens

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 8

read part seven here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: angst then fluff then angst again i'm gonna give you whiplash, emetophobia warning (not graphic just implied), discussion of suicide

a/n: next chapter is gonna be crazy... just fyi so stay tuned i lowkey can't believe i've kept up with this through 8 chapters but i'm glad i did because it's been super fun interacting with you guys and a rlly good writing exercise. enjoy this short chapter!

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Dear Diary,

Funerals blow. I suppose they blow more when you were the one to accidentally kill the person, but I think they still blow in general. I tried saying something to Tara when we were all throwing roses into the grave (I know, how trite), but I ended up talking to God instead. I said something dumb, like “Technically, I did not kill Tara, but, hey, who am I trying to kid, right?”

I’ve started coping with humor.

No one ever feels much like celebrating at a teenager’s funeral. Sam was a wreck; barely even talked. I started a conversation, but she just stared through me. Mindy and Chad kept trying to get my attention, but I’m still kind of avoiding them. It’s easier this way, just to be with Ethan.

Speaking of, he didn’t show. Of course, no one was expecting him to– except me. I don’t know, I thought he’d want to be here.

I should probably go. I’ve been away too long, it’s getting suspicious.

Y/N

I close my diary in my lap and shove it into my bag. I’ve been writing in one of the bathroom stalls for the last ten minutes. Trying to kick the hand-washing habit. It’s hard to do much of anything with chapped fingers. Even though Dr. Stone’s writing therapy feels useless, it keeps my hands busy.

Making my way out of the women’s room, I spot my parents in the far corner of the church lobby. My mom has her head down, and her glassy eyes tell me that she’s reading some Times article that we’ll discuss on the car ride home instead of my best friend’s tragic suicide. My dad has the same vacant stare, too, but he’s not absorbed in anything– just staring out a window on the opposite wall.

For some reason, the sight makes me sick– I can’t spend another minute watching it. I storm out of the doors, chest heaving. 

Crossing the street, I end up on a small patch of grass by the parking lot. I double over, short of breath, and everything comes up. I’d be mortified if I didn’t feel like shit.

As I finish retching, I feel a hand on my back. I stiffen and turn to look.

“Fuck, Y/N, are you okay?” It’s Chad, with Mindy close behind.

“Uh, yeah,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Sorry. Just overwhelmed.”

His eyes soften. “I get it.”

I can’t lie: it’s good to see the two of them. After avoiding everyone but Ethan for so long, the relief I feel at being with them outweighs my grief and guilt for the first time in days.

“Are you guys holding up any better than me?” I ask.

Chad laughs softly. “To be honest, no. I try not to think about it. I’ll get sucked into the cesspool of grief.”

“Yeah.” I nod in agreement. “I get that. What about you, Minds?”

She sighs. “Thinking too much, I guess.”

“Mm.”

There’s a long pause between all of us, but I don’t mind. I appreciate the quiet after the service.

Chad clears his throat. “So, um, we get that you’ve been MIA recently, and that’s cool because grieving is personal and all, but we miss you. A lot, actually. So will you please, please, please come have dinner with us tonight? At our place? Our parents are going out, so we can break into their wine cellar like we used to, I will cook, and Mindy will let you choose the movie for once.”

“I don’t know about that last bit,” Mindy intervenes, and Chad gives her a playful shove. “But, yeah. Please?”

I should probably say no, but, fuck, I miss them. “Okay.”

“Yes!” Chad hugs me tight, and pulls away, grinning. “We missed you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger right now. We’re a team– you, me, Mindy, and Anika.”

Mindy groans. “Save your pep talks for your actual team. Season hasn’t even started yet, dork!”

“Yeah, whatever. We’ll see you tonight, okay?”

I roll my eyes at them as they walk away. “See you then.”

For the first time since Tara died, I let a big smile creep onto my face. Maybe this will all be okay.

That is, until I catch a glimpse of a dark jacket and curly hair in my peripheral vision. Turning sharply, I see Ethan, parked in his car across the street. He’s staring at Chad as he and Mindy walk towards their car.

Then he turns and looks at me, and my blood runs cold. His eyes are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. There’s no hint of that softness I’ve become used to, but they’re not wild like last night in his car. His eyes are dark and stony, perfectly calculating.

Against my better judgment, I start towards his car, but his engine roars to life. He drops his gaze, and I stop before I reach the curb. 

Ethan speeds away without looking back.

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[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 7

read part 6 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: strong language, reckless driving, family angst

a/n: heyyyy. sorry this took so long i wrote and unwrote it like four times. the action is going to pick up soon, but for now, have some family angst and crazy ethan. dm me to be added to the taglist

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“Are you going to Tara’s funeral tomorrow?” Ethan asks me.

It’s been six days since her death. Since my freak-out in the locker room, I’ve been ghosting my friends and skipping in-school therapy sessions. Instead, Ethan and I have taken to spending our afternoons at his house, mostly watching shitty TV and making out, to be completely honest.

I untangle myself from under his arm, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah. My parents are coming, too. Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought we could skip together, or something.”

“Are you kidding?.”

“No, I’m dead serious. Should we even be there?”

My throat feels dry. “She was my best friend, Ethan. It doesn’t matter what happened in the end.”

He sighs. “It’s a great example of dramatic irony, I’ll give you that, but doesn’t it feel a little fucked up? We could stay here, rent a movie or something.”

He grins reassuringly as he says this, and it makes me nauseous. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, everyone’s expecting me to be there.”

Ethan seems upset by my rejection, but before he can say anything else we’re interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. I turn to see a gray-haired man coming through the entryway.

I assume this is Ethan’s dad (they have the same dark eyes), but he walks past the couch without an introduction.

Ethan sighs. “Hey, son. Didn’t know you were home yet”

“Hey, Dad. Didn’t hear you come in,” he replies, settling into the nearby armchair. 

Ethan clears his throat. “So, how was work, then?”

“It was miserable,” Detective Bailey sighs. “Some psycho put a bomb threat on the welcome center today. Said they put a bomb in the boiler room that was gonna set off thermals on the upper floors. It was all talk, of course– these idiots never have the guts to follow through. But it was a pain in my ass, of course.”

Something about the way he talks about these bombs unnerves me. Still, I smile politely, not wanting to make a bad impression.

“Gee, Dad,” he continues, “I nearly forgot to introduce you to my girlfriend.” Ethan goes red, but I can’t pretend like I don’t like that label. 

“Hi, Detective Bailey,” I say. “I’m Y/N, I’m Ethan’s classmate.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, eyeing me up and down. He’s very methodical in the way he looks me over, clearly experienced from years in the force.

We all sit in awkward silence for a minute, until Ethan turns back to me. “Hey, what if you stay for dinner?”

As much as I want to say yes, the thought of spending any more time around Detective Bailey dissuades me from accepting his offer. “Sorry, I can’t. I have to get ready for tomorrow, and my mom’s making my favorite for dinner.” Detective Bailey scoffs at this. “How nice. The last time I saw your mom, Ethan, she was waving out of the back of a car as she drove off into the sunset. Where was that? Nevada? Sacramento?”

Ethan tenses. “I’m going to drive her home, Dad.”

“Be my guest,” he mumbles, and Ethan all but pushes me through the doorway and into his car.

“Right,” I say when we’re on the road. “I’m, uh, sorry about your dad.”

“Don’t be,” Ethan says through gritted teeth. “He’s been all sorts of weird since we lost our brother.”

“Jesus, Ethan. You didn’t tell me about that.”

“Well, if we’re airing our family business, I might as well. That’s why my mom left, too. Couldn’t deal with the memory of him.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ethan laughs without humor. “Well, it’s not like you were the one who killed him, huh?”

This strikes me as a strange thing to say, but I’m probably not in a position to judge. Instead, I reach over and place a hand on his thigh.

“Thank you, then. For being here for me right now. I would be locked up without you.”

He softens again, back to the Ethan I’m familiar with. “Always.”

I see him looking at me in his peripheral vision, so I give him a soft smile. He stares at me for a moment, and maybe everything is going to be alright.

Then he floors the gas, and we’re barrelling down the street.

“Ethan, what the fuck?” I say. “Slow down!”

But he doesn’t slow down. He keeps going. We whiz down the center of town, where, luckily, very few people are out.

I see my street fly by, and I look at him in mixed confusion and desperation. His eyes are wild in a way I haven’t seen before.

I try one more time. “For the love of God, Ethan, stop the fucking car!”

Surprisingly, he listens. We come to a sudden stop, and I’m thrown forward in my seat. He’s breathing heavily, chest heaving.

“What the fuck was that?” I scream.

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he grabs my face and kisses me, hard. I’m so surprised that I don’t push him off. 

Ethan pulls back. “Without me, you’d be in prison, Y/N. Do you know that?”

My hands are shaking. I don’t know what to say— I just nod.

He smiles, satisfied, and rests his hand on my thigh. “Good. Let’s go home.”

taglist: @miawastakens

[enchxanting]

okay update

i literally have writers block but pt 7 of our love is god is coming soooo soon i promise!!