How Do You Feel About Stu/Sidney As A Couple?

How do you feel about Stu/Sidney as a couple?

Ok, deep dive.

While the notion of Stu Macher and Sidney Prescott as a couple is intriguing for its sheer audacity and the psychological complexity it suggests, it ultimately feels incongruent with the characters' established traits and the series' thematic underpinnings. Sidney's character arc is rooted in overcoming trauma and embodying resilience, whereas Stu's character serves as a representation of chaotic malevolence. Their union would not only be implausible but also antithetical to the narrative and emotional journey that "Scream" sets out to explore. Thus, while an interesting thought experiment, Stu and Sidney as a couple remains firmly in the realm of fan fiction rather than a plausible narrative development within the "Scream" universe.

However I don't judge anyone who ships them, because to be honest I think they would be kinda cute.

Title:Domestic Possession

(Had an idea, wrote about it, i have no regrets.

Derek morgan x fem!reader)

Derek Morgan was known for his confidence, his charm, and the undeniable magnetism that drew people to him. Working at the BAU, he'd seen the worst of humanity, and it only made him treasure the good parts even more. That's why when he found someone special, he held on tight. And you, without a doubt, were the most special part of his life.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon, and the two of you had decided to spend the day exploring the local farmer’s market. Stalls were bustling with vendors selling fresh produce, handmade crafts, and a variety of delectable treats. You walked hand-in-hand, laughing and talking, enjoying the normalcy that days like this brought amidst the chaos of Derek’s job.

Derek had a way of making you feel like the only person in the crowded market. His presence was commanding, his laughter infectious. As you stopped to admire a display of flowers, he stood close behind you, one hand resting on your hip, a casual, possessive touch that was more comforting than anything else.

You picked up a bouquet of wildflowers, their bright colors vibrant against the backdrop of the market. "What do you think of these, Derek?" you asked, turning to show him.

"They're beautiful," he replied, his eyes not leaving your face. "But not as beautiful as you."

You blushed, a warmth spreading through you at his words. Derek had a way of making you feel cherished, loved, and his words always carried a weight of sincerity that was impossible to ignore.

As you were about to pay for the flowers, you noticed a man standing a few stalls down, his eyes lingering on you a bit too long for comfort. His gaze was intense, appraising, and it made you feel exposed in a way you didn’t like. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore him and focus on Derek.

Derek, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your demeanor immediately. He followed your line of sight and saw the man who was staring at you. A flicker of annoyance crossed his features, quickly replaced by a determined glint in his eyes.

Without a word, Derek moved closer to you, his hand sliding around to your lower back, pulling you into him. His grip was firm, possessive, and undeniably protective. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, "You're mine, sweetheart. Don’t ever forget that."

The sensation of his breath against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, finding his eyes dark and intense, filled with a mixture of protectiveness and desire.

The man who had been staring at you seemed to get the message loud and clear. He looked away quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the silent confrontation. Derek’s presence was enough to send a clear warning without a single word being exchanged.

You let out a small breath of relief, feeling safe and secure in Derek’s embrace. You paid for the flowers, and as you turned back to Derek, he was watching you with a look that made your heart race. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.

"Thank you," you whispered, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

Derek’s grip on your hip tightened momentarily before he let his hand slide up to cup your face, pulling you in for a deep, possessive kiss. His lips were warm and insistent against yours, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that you were his.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a comfortable haze of laughter, affection, and stolen kisses. Derek’s possessive touch never strayed far, a constant reminder of his love and protection. As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the market, you found yourself grateful for the man by your side.

Back at your apartment, as you put the flowers in a vase, Derek came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. He nuzzled your neck, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"You know," he murmured, "I don't like when other guys look at you like that. Makes me want to remind them who you belong to."

You turned in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. "I don’t need reminding, Derek. I know who I belong to. And I wouldn’t have it any other way."

His eyes softened, and he leaned in to kiss you, slow and deep, pouring all his love and possessiveness into that single kiss. When you finally pulled away, you were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I love you," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

"I love you too, Derek," you replied, knowing that no matter what, you were safe in his arms.

Send requests if you want something else, i write for all genders but i dont do smut

Ϟ(๑◕ ․̫ ◕๑)づ🌹🌹🌹

Title:"Partners in Every Sense"

The air in Quantico buzzed with the usual hum of activity. The Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) was bustling as always, agents moving with purpose, files being handed off, and the ever-present sound of the espresso machine in the break room trying to keep everyone running on caffeine and determination. Derek Morgan sat at his desk, skimming through case files, his sharp eyes flicking over details with practiced ease. He was in his element here, surrounded by the intricate puzzles that made up human behavior.

But today, something was different.

Agent Y/N L/N had just joined the team. She was a legend in her own right, having made a name for herself in the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team. Her transfer to the BAU was the subject of much discussion. Known for her unparalleled marksmanship, tactical prowess, and an uncanny ability to read situations, she was as intimidating as she was effective. The rumors didn’t do her justice, though; she was even more formidable in person.

Morgan looked up as the door to the conference room opened. There she was. Her presence was magnetic, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. She was tall and athletic, with piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing. She carried herself with the confidence of someone who had faced down the worst humanity had to offer and come out victorious.

"Agent Morgan," she greeted, extending a hand. Her voice was calm and steady, a perfect match for her composed exterior.

"Agent L/N," he replied, taking her hand in a firm shake. He couldn’t help but notice the strength in her grip, a testament to her physical training. "Welcome to the BAU. Heard a lot about you."

"All good, I hope," she said with a faint smirk, the hint of a challenge in her eyes.

Morgan chuckled. "Mostly. You’ve got quite the reputation."

"Reputations are just stories," she replied, her gaze unwavering. "I prefer to show what I can do."

Over the next few weeks, Y/N seamlessly integrated into the team. Her insights were sharp, her strategies flawless, and her ability to take control in the field was nothing short of impressive. She and Morgan found themselves working closely on several cases, their skills complementing each other perfectly.

One particularly challenging case had them tracking a serial arsonist who was escalating in both frequency and severity. The team was spread thin, and Morgan and Y/N were partnered up to follow a lead in a remote area.

As they drove through the winding roads, the tension in the car was palpable. Not because of any friction between them, but due to the gravity of the case. They both knew how high the stakes were.

"You ever think about what you'd be doing if you weren't an agent?" Morgan asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N glanced at him, a small smile playing at her lips. "Not really. This job... it’s in my blood. What about you?"

Morgan shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Same here. Hard to imagine doing anything else."

Their lead took them to an abandoned warehouse, the perfect hiding spot for someone who didn’t want to be found. As they approached the building, Y/N's senses were on high alert. She signaled for Morgan to follow her lead. They moved silently, their years of training evident in every step.

Inside, the warehouse was a labyrinth of old machinery and forgotten debris. They split up to cover more ground, each moving with the precision and caution of seasoned agents. As Morgan rounded a corner, he saw a flicker of movement. Before he could react, a figure lunged at him, knocking him to the ground.

The struggle was brief but intense. Morgan managed to get the upper hand, pinning the assailant. It was the arsonist, his eyes wild with desperation. Just as Morgan was about to cuff him, a second attacker emerged from the shadows, aiming a weapon at Morgan.

A shot rang out.

Morgan looked up to see Y/N standing there, her gun smoking, the second assailant dropping to the ground. She moved with swift efficiency, securing the scene and ensuring there were no more surprises.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with concern.

"Yeah," Morgan replied, catching his breath. "Thanks to you."

They exchanged a look, one that spoke volumes. In that moment, there was a mutual respect and understanding that went beyond words. They were more than just colleagues; they were partners who had each other’s backs.

As they drove back to headquarters, the adrenaline still pumping through their veins, Morgan couldn’t help but feel a deepening admiration for Y/N. She was everything he valued in a partner: smart, fearless, and utterly reliable.

Over the next few months, their partnership grew stronger. They became a formidable team, their synergy in the field unmatched. Off duty, they found themselves drawn to each other in a way that was both exciting and unexpected.

One evening, after a particularly grueling case, they found themselves alone in the gym, working off the stress. Morgan watched as Y/N hit the punching bag with a series of precise, powerful blows. He admired her focus and determination.

"You're pretty amazing, you know that?" he said, walking over to her.

She paused, wiping sweat from her brow. "You’re not so bad yourself, Morgan."

He grinned, stepping closer. "No, I mean it. I've worked with a lot of agents, but you... you’re something else."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes softening. "Thanks, Derek. That means a lot coming from you."

There was a moment of silence, charged with unspoken feelings. Then, with a confidence that mirrored her own, Morgan closed the distance between them, his hand gently cupping her face. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch, their lips meeting in a kiss that was both tender and filled with the promise of something more.

From that night on, their relationship evolved, deepening into something neither of them had expected but both were eager to explore. They were still the same fierce agents, but now, they were also something more: partners in every sense of the word. And together, there was nothing they couldn’t face.

Title:Set Fire to the Rain

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Haymitch Abernathy x Fem!Reader

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District 12 had always been a place of despair and survival. It was a backdrop of soot and ashes, where life was more about getting through the day than living it. Amongst this grayscale existence, Haymitch Abernathy found himself in the same bleak routine: drunk, disheveled, and drowning in his memories of the past Hunger Games he had won so many years ago. He had long since stopped believing in hope, love, or redemption. But then, there was you.

You had always seen something more in Haymitch. Despite the walls he had built around himself, despite the self-destructive tendencies, you believed there was still a part of him worth saving. Your heart, though bruised by its own battles, saw his pain and wanted to heal it. For a while, it seemed like you were making progress. He began to drink less, laugh more, and sometimes, just sometimes, he would let you in past those iron walls.

But the Capitol never truly let go of its victors, and Haymitch was no exception. The memories, the nightmares, and the guilt were chains that he could never quite break free from. And on those nights, when the darkness consumed him, he would push you away with harsh words and cold silence, leaving you to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart.

One particularly stormy evening, the rain poured down on District 12 like a cleansing fire, a rare and violent storm. You found Haymitch in his usual spot, the run-down house that smelled of old liquor and regret. He was sitting by the window, a half-empty bottle of white liquor in his hand, staring at the rain as if it could wash away his sins.

"Haymitch," you called softly, stepping into the room. "You don't have to do this alone."

He turned to you, his eyes bloodshot and weary. "What do you want from me, Y/N?" His voice was a blend of anger and sorrow, each word a knife to your heart.

"I want to help you," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "I want you to let me in."

"You can't help me," he spat, standing up abruptly. "No one can. Not you, not anyone. I'm broken, Y/N. Can't you see that?"

Your heart ached at his words, but you refused to give up. "I don't believe that, Haymitch. I believe you can heal. We can heal together."

He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound that echoed through the empty room. "Together? Don't you get it? I destroy everything I touch. I killed them, Y/N. All those kids. And I can't...I can't live with that. How could you?"

Tears streamed down your face as you stepped closer to him, your hands reaching out to touch his, but he recoiled, the look in his eyes one of pure torment. "Haymitch, please. Let me in. Let me help you carry this."

"No!" he shouted, the bottle slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor. "Just go, Y/N. Leave me. Save yourself."

Your heart shattered with the bottle, the finality of his words sinking in. You had given him everything, your love, your hope, your dreams of a future together. And now, it was all crumbling down around you.

"I can't," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the storm. "I love you, Haymitch."

He turned away, unable to meet your gaze. "Go, Y/N. Before I hurt you more than I already have."

With a heavy heart, you turned and walked out into the storm, the rain mingling with your tears. Each step away from him felt like a dagger to your soul, but you knew you couldn't stay. Not when he was so determined to push you away, to drown in his own misery.

The rain poured down, a cleansing fire that mirrored the agony in your heart. You walked through the empty streets of District 12, the sound of the storm drowning out your sobs. As the rain washed over you, you felt a small spark of hope amidst the overwhelming sorrow. Perhaps, someday, he would realize that he didn't have to face his demons alone. Perhaps, someday, he would find his way back to you.

But for now, you had to let go. You had to set fire to the rain, to burn away the pain and the heartache. Because sometimes, the only way to save someone is to let them go.

As the storm raged on, you whispered a final goodbye to the man you loved, praying that the rain would wash away his torment and lead him back to you one day. Until then, you would carry the hope that love, no matter how broken, could one day heal even the deepest wounds.

ssa aaron hotchner you will always be famous

This took about five hours, reblog if you are so inclined!! I do not know if there is a big fandom here but hi it's me again

No Idea what it's from, but this looks really cool

Russell "Grandpa" the Shadow Company mascot...

He has been in my mind since I first saw him and I had to draw Orion's first time meeting him

He would be very entertained and spoil the gramps rotten (also peep the throat scar 👀)

And proceeds to nap together right after

Full page ver.

Ive never drawn an opossum before LOL also its more purple irl i swear my markers are bullying me 😭