#jeremeier

[8trackaxolotl]

I can’t believe I drew BMC in 2024

[obsessed-with-fake-men]

forever

when your cute next door neighbor falls into your life, you figure what’s the harm in flirting a little? If only you knew what Jeremy had planned…

Jeremy Frazier x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit 

Content warnings: nsfw, mdni, stalking/peeping, mentions of physical harm, masturbation

Author’s note: please enjoy this strange creepy fic that may or may not become a series. in this fic Jeremy is a pervy little creep. sorry not sorry, that’s my HC. to my followers who are asking wtf is this, sorry my muse has shifted. micah if you're reading this, don't :)

Word count: ~2500

It’s a cool October day when the moving truck arrives next door. Jeremy has seen plenty of moving trucks over the years, but their contents never seem to interest him. The living come and go so quickly, he rarely bothers to pay attention to their dull lives anymore. 

He’s sitting on the sill of his bedroom window, one leg dangling over the edge. His eyes are closed as he enjoys the first chill of autumn. As cliche as it is, fall is his favorite season. Seeing the life drain from the earth makes him feel a little less alone, or something.

A sound drifts to him, carried on the breeze. It’s a voice, singing and humming along to a song. Jeremy sighs, not minding the intrusion - the singer has a pleasant enough voice. He thinks he might know the song, which surprises him. He’s always hearing snippets of new music float up from the neighborhood street. 

Who could be listening to The Smiths? he wonders. 

Opening his eyes, Jeremy sees you. 

Your bedroom window is directly opposite his and he watches you like a movie. The window frame is his screen, your stage. You dance around boxes, floating in and out of frame. Jeremey feels like he’s caught in a trance. He can’t take his eyes off of you. He hasn’t seen someone his age, or his body’s age, in so long.

Finally some entertainment, he thinks as a mischievous grin tugs at corners of his mouth.

Jeremy continues to watch you unabashedly, mesmerized with your every move. Even a mundane activity like carrying a box becomes a source of wonder to him. Because you’re doing it. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t even blink as you grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You can’t see him, he reasons, so it doesn’t matter that he’s ogling you like some pervert. Drinking in the sight of you, soft tummy and simple black bra now on display. A long dormant feeling sneaks up on him. Lust. 

Just seeing your near naked torso does more for his libido than the few worn out playboys he managed to get his hands on before….  Jeremy snakes a hand down to palm his erection through his jeans and his eyes travel up to see your plush lips part. He tears his gaze from your mouth to look at your eyes, bright and wide with… terror?

You let out a piercing shriek that causes Jeremy to lose his balance. He falls from the window sill and tumbles down the roof, doing nothing to stop gravity from pulling him toward the earth below. Only one thought plays over and over in his mind.

Holy shit she can see me.

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You thought no one lived next door! It’s not your fault that you screamed when you saw someone staring at you. Standing frozen in horror, you watch as the guy next door falls off his roof. When you hear the thud of his body hitting the ground, you jump into action. Pulling your shirt back on, you yank out your earbuds and run out of the house. 

His body is eerily still as you approach. 

Holy shit is he dead? 

You squat down to look at him.

“Um hey dude, are you alright?” you ask, regretting the question immediately.

Of course he’s not alright you idiot! He just fell off a roof for fucks sake!

“Okay so I’m just gonna call an ambulance…” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Reaching into your pocket to pull out your phone, the guy’s hand shoots out grabbing your wrist tightly. 

You freeze. His hand is strangely cool. You can’t say what it is, but something about his touch just feels…wrong. You suppress a shudder and quickly shake the thought from your mind.

“Please say something so I know you’re at least conscious,” you beg.

The guy on the ground starts shaking.

Fuck he’s crying. He must be really hurt.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” you coo. “Let’s roll you over and make sure you didn’t crack open your head or anything.”

The shaking becomes more intense, but he releases the vice grip from your wrist. As he rolls over onto his back, you realize his shaking isn’t from crying. This asshole is…laughing?

Greeeeaaaaat he’s in shock.

Even in a fit of laughter, you can't help but notice how attractive he is. He looks like an angel who thinks his fall from heaven is just some practical joke from god.

The guy moves to sit up, but you pin him to the ground by the shoulders. His laughter stops abruptly and his warm brown eyes meet yours. The intensity of his gaze makes you flush. 

“You can’t sit up that fast,” you scold, pulling away. “You could have like a concussion or something.”

He gives you a lopsided grin as he slowly pushes up to sitting. 

“I’m fine. I promise,” he says, holding out a hand to you. “I’m Jeremy.”

You hesitantly shake his hand. It’s still a little cool, but maybe he just runs cold? 

“I’m y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, y/n” Jeremy says, grinning at you again before releasing your hand.

You look him up and down, trying to discern if he has a single injury from the fall. When your eyes drift back to Jeremy’s face, he’s blushing.

“Um.. like what you see?” he chuckles.

“What?” You ask, confused. “Oh! No no I wasn’t checking you out! I was just trying to see if you were hurt! You could’ve broken your neck with a fall like that…”

He barks out a laugh, startling you.

“I’m fine, I promise,” he says, crossing his heart. 

You’re not that easily convinced. Leaning in, you look intently at his eyes. As you’re trying to discern whether or not his pupils are the same size, Jeremy almost closes the distance between you. You feel the chill of his touch brush your jaw as he lightly holds your chin. Your faces are mere inches away now.

“Is this the part where we kiss?” He whispers. 

Your pulse begins to race as his breath ghosts across your lips. Now it’s your turn to blush. Pulling away, you take a few shaky breaths to try and calm your rapidly beating heart. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, leaning back on his hands. “You just looked so serious.”

You elbow him in the ribs. 

“Ow! What was that for?” He asks, rubbing his side in exaggerated pain.

“For staring at me like a creep upstairs!” You shout.

“Oh shit, right,” he groans, running a hand through his messy brown hair. “Look, I’m sorry about that y/n. I didn’t realize anyone would be moving in today and when I heard you singing I didn’t even think. I was mesmerized by you.”

Jeremy looks toward the ground, ears tipped pink as he twirls a blade of grass. 

Damn either this guy is smooth or he has no filter.

“Um it’s okay I guess,” you mumble. “I mean it’s also my fault for leaving the window open. I didn’t know anyone lived next door. I thought the realtor said it was for sale.”

Jeremy freezes, trying to come up with a reason to keep your suspicions at bay.

“Yeah, uh my parents have been trying to sell the place but haven’t had any luck I guess,” he suggests, glancing at you anxiously. 

Thankfully you seem to be oblivious to his lie. What reason would you have not to believe him?

“So anyway, what was the song you were singing earlier?” he asks.

“Oh! Here, I’ll show you.”

Pulling out your airpods, you hand one to him and pop the other in your ear. Jeremy follows your lead, wondering why you carry around a pair of broken earbuds when suddenly There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths fills his ear. 

“Woah, you know The Smiths?” He asks, turning to you excitedly.

“Yeah, I love The Smiths,” you sigh smiling, before singing along, “To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.”

“How are you real?” he whispers, watching you bob your head to the music.

You are everything he could have dreamed of in a girl, and you can see him. Just before he could do something stupid like say he loves you or confess his darkest secrets, a voice calls from your front door.

“ y/n? I need help unpacking the kitchen! I can’t find a single fork anywhere!”

“I’ll be right there mom!” you shout back, before turning to Jeremy. “Sorry, I have to run. But I’ll see you around, okay?” 

He takes out the earbud and hands it back to you. This time when his fingers brush your waiting palm, it feels electric. Like a jolt of energy traveling through your entire body. The two of you linger there for a moment, barely touching, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I’ll be right here,” he says softly, grinning that lopsided grin again.

Breaking out of your daze, you hop up and jog to your house. Turning back right before you reach the door, you see Jeremy standing. He gives you a small, shy wave before you disappear inside. 

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

Jeremy has been waiting for you to go back to your room all evening. He’s kept his room dark, sitting in shadow by the window. Your ability to see him is a blessing and a curse, he’ll have to be sneaky to keep an eye on you. He’s not trying to be creepy, he just doesn’t want to scare you. 

Finally the lamp by your window turns on and you fill his vision.

Fuck, you are so pretty.

He wishes he could watch you for hours, memorizing each inch of your body, mapping all of your freckles and finding what spots drive you crazy. 

You flit about your room unpacking here and there. Occasionally you glance over towards his window, and he swears he can see your disappointment when you notice that it’s still dark. 

Don’t worry darling, I’ll make my presence known soon. 

With one last searching look his way, you begin undressing. You pop the button on your jeans and wriggle out of the tight fabric. Your bare legs and black panties have him panting. Jeremy doesn’t even feel bad for watching you right now. If you really didn’t want him to see, you’d close the curtains, right?

He imagines you must get a thrill, knowing he could come in at any minute and see you like this. On display just for him. His cock twitches at the thought and he reaches down to give it a tug, allowing himself just a bit of relief. 

His mouth waters as he stares at the sweet curve of your ass sway as you walk to another box. And then you bend over. 

In a split second, Jeremy’s cock is out and in his hand. The cool night air brings some reprieve from his burning desire and he sighs. Lazily, he strokes his cock to you as you pull books out of a box. He hopes the books are neverending, so he can watch you bend over so perfectly for him forever. 

This simple thought sparks an idea that takes hold of him. Pumping his cock with more urgency, Jeremy is quickly lost to a fantasy where he makes you like him. The idea of having you here, his companion, forever, he has to bite his shirt to hold back a moan. Bucking his hips into his fist, he imagines it’s you he’s fucking. Your sweet pussy, his-

“Forever,” he whispers toward you, and then he cums. 

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You’re standing in your new room, digging through your box of books, when you hear music float in on the night air. It’s the same song you played for Jeremy earlier. You whirl around to look out the window and see him sitting at his desk across the way.

You flush, knowing he’s probably noticed your lack of pants. Pausing in front of the window, you take a second to really look at him. 

He’s a little strange, but he’s really cute… you reason. Plus he has great music taste. What’s a little harmless flirting between neighbors?

Ripping a page out of your notebook, you make a paper airplane with a message that reads -you have good taste- and throw it toward Jeremy’s house. With luck, it soars through the window landing right in front of him.

He studies the intrusion for a moment before his eyes flit up to meet yours. A grin dances across his lips as he picks up the paper to read your message. Laughing, he moves to sit on the window sill. You follow suit, dangling your legs out into the cool evening air.

“Careful, you could’ve put my eye out,” he playfully scolds.

“Says the guy who literally fell out of his window today,” you tease, as he rolls his eyes. 

“For real though, are you okay?” you ask, eyeing him warily.

“I’ve got a couple of bruises, but I’ll live,” he says, the lies effortlessly rolling off his tongue.

Jeremy briefly wonders just how many he’ll have to tell before you’re ready for the truth. 

“Well I see you’re copying my music taste now,” you tease.

“Woah woah woah, give me sec,” he says going back into his room.

Jeremy returns to the window with a vinyl cover of The Smiths in hand. 

“I promise I was listening to them way before you, kid.”

“Who are you calling kid?” you ask. “We’re literally the same age.”

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. 

“Something tells me you haven’t seen Casablanca.”

“Something tells me you’ll have to show me,” you reply with a wink.

“Come over tomorrow? I think I have the DVD around here somewhere,” he muses, looking around the room.

“Ooooo I love a guy who’s into physical media,” you giggle.

He laughs along. Although he’s not quite sure what you mean, he knows your laugh is one of the cutest sounds he’s ever heard. 

“Well then, it’s a date,” he says, grinning at you.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you muse, wishing that there wasn’t a chasm of darkness dividing you. Keeping you from finding out if Jeremy’s smile tastes as good as it looks. 

“You’d better get inside, it’s kind of cold out and you seem to have forgotten your, um, your pants,” he says blushing as he points at your bare legs.

“Oh sorry! I didn’t even notice!” you lie, batting your eyelashes innocently at him.

“Please don’t be sorry, I’m not complaining I promise,” he says, eyes shining with mischief. “I just don’t want you to get sick and flake on our date.”

You roll your eyes, rubbing your bare legs against the October chill.

“It can even be clothing optional if you want…” he suggests slyly.

You grab the closest thing to you, a big pink eraser, and hurl it at him across the divide, hitting him square in the chest.

“Shut up,” you laugh, swinging your legs back into your room. 

“If only you’d come over here and make me,” he sighs, watching as you grab the window frame. The slight stretch causes your shirt to ride up a little higher, showing off your stomach for him to enjoy.

“Goodnight, Jeremy,” you say, and you pull your window closed.

His name. You said his name.

Of course you said his name, that’s what people do. But hearing it from your lips, he’d do anything to have you say it again and again. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” he whispers into the empty air. For the first time in years, he’s actually looking forward to another day.

Read part two here!

[showtimeatfreddys]

A sample of Fnaf lore

Someone tell me why I bothered getting into this fandom

[mellohd]

I DONT SUPPORT BLUEYCAPSULES CREATOR!!!!

hi so i was looking through my old art folder and found a lot of old blueycapsules fanart and well i didnt mean to draw this i was originally just doing an eye study but i was feeling nostalgic and suddenly it turned into a redraw of jeremey and maikol💔 version without squigly heart blush below and some other bonus stuff

heres the flats i like the mouth better here but im not fucking with the drawing any more brah

heres the original from 3 years ago and no idk why its cropped like that all my drawings were in that ratio then bro💔💔💔 and no i didnt forget their nametags i just didnt feel like drawing that shit

i made this in 2022 as well ijust thought it was funny

[sunncourts]

jean's exy spotlight pt i: front cover

needed to draw my boy with tanner skin, freckles, and his new colors <3 they really do suit him better. more to come soon

[mspaint-regretevator]

gradientcube / jeremy x unpleasant cuddling. please no freakery it's all freakery SAVE MEEEE

[randomnessoffiction]

"Holmes the meddler! Holmes the busybody! Holmes the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!

[tinmanscarecrow]

Idk if you can tell but I love Michael and then I gave up on drawing jeremey so yeaaaaasaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhahshshshhs

I'll finish it properly layer

Also they are so geeks in love coded c xnxjxjsnensne

[nostalgc]

Lip Gallagher — Shameless, Season 6.

[dvrcos]

Do we know anything about Jermey Knox’s canon personality/life? No. Do we know that he’s a service top? Yes absolutely.

[obsessed-with-fake-men]

looking at you

when your movie date with Jeremy doesn't go how he planned, he has you put on a private show...not that you know he's pulling the strings

Jeremy Frazier x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit 

Content warnings: nsfw, mdni, dubcon, stalking/peeping, mutal(?) masturbation, he calls you a slut

Author's note: This fic can be read as a follow up to forever or as a standalone. Jeremy is still a pervy creep and will continue to be one.

Word count: ~3300

Jeremy loves looking at you. Honestly, it might be his favorite thing to do. He’s slyly watching you now, carrying yet another box of belongings up to your room. God you’re beautiful. He loves the way you puff out air to get a piece of hair out of your face when your hands are full. And the way you put your hands on your hips when you’re lost in thought. And not to mention how cute you are when you think no one is watching. How you dance around in your panties, singing into your hair brush. A little strip tease just for him.

He sees you pause and look down, then pick up a paper airplane.The note he sent your way moments ago, unfurling in your hand. 

meet me at 7, bring popcorn - j

Your eyes dart to the window, searching. For him. But Jeremy is safe in the shadows, free from your gaze. He watches you shrug and draw the curtains. Not to worry, he’ll see you soon.

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Jeremy is pacing next to his house. He’s waiting for you. It’s 6:58 and you’re not there. 

Fuck what if you don’t show?

With your curtains blocking his view, Jeremy can’t be sure whether you’re coming or not. He glances at his watch: 6:59. 

I’m such a delusional idiot of course y/n isn’t coming.

The chime of the bell tower begins, signaling the top of the hour. Jeremy runs a hand through his hair in exasperation.

What would you want with a pathetic, no good, murde-

The creak of a door startles him out of his thoughts. Head jerking toward the sound, he sees you.

The tightness in his chest evaporates instantly and he unclenches fists he hadn’t consciously made. 

You look divine in the light of the setting sun. Jeremy’s eyes roam your figure, he notices you changed from what you were wearing earlier. The tight sundress hugs your upper body and is absolutely inappropriate for the October evening. 

Jeremy feels a smug sort of satisfaction at the thought that you chose it just for him. 

You clear your throat. 

“Like what you see?” you tease with a giggle.

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and gesturing at your dress with the other.

“What can I say, you make me speechless.”

Warmth rises to your cheeks as you smile shyly. 

“Ummmm anyway,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I brought the goods.”

You produce a bag of pre-popped popcorn from behind your back.

“Skinny Pop?” Jeremy asks dubiously, quirking an eyebrow.

You shove his arm playfully. 

“My mom heard somewhere that the microwave stuff gives you cancer or something,” you shrug.

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we,” Jeremy jests.

You swear you see a dark gleam in his eyes, like a wolf staring down a doe before striking. But upon blinking you’re left looking into the warmth of his brown irises.

“Soooooo, are we heading inside?” you ask, moving to walk toward the house.

Abruptly, Jeremy grabs your hand and halts you in your tracks. 

You feel like you’ve touched a live wire as an initial cool jolt of electricity runs through your hand and arm, quickly fading to a warm tingle.

“Actually, I have a surprise for you,” he says with a grin, pulling you toward the backyard.

Turning the corner, you see a rustic treehouse glowing from within.

“Woah, a treehouse!” you exclaim. “I didn’t know this was back here.”

Jeremy watches you look up in awe. The lights of the house reflecting like stars in your eyes.

“Yeah, I come here to get away from everything,” he sighs. “It’s the only place I feel like I can really think, you know?”

Glancing up at him, you see a melancholic expression you know well and you give his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, I definitely get that.”

Jeremy lifts your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, he gives them a light kiss.

“Ladies first,” he murmurs, nodding toward the rungs leading up the tree. 

Reluctantly, you relinquish his hand and begin the climb. Leaning against the trunk, Jeremy looks up to enjoy the view. Your dress flicking up, tantalizes him with each rung you mount. Squinting, he can almost make out the color of your panties. Jeremy makes a silent vow that he’ll know the answer by the end of the night. 

When you reach the top you pause to gaze around the tree house. Its simple, worn wood was made enchanting - illuminated by fairy lights and the soft glow of a television. There was a nest of comforters and pillows on one side and an old CRT TV with a built-in VCR on the other. 

Arms snake around your waist, seeming to appear out of thin air. Jeremy pulls you into him, pressing your back to his body.

“What do you think?” he whispers into your ear. His cool breath feels like the autumn breeze, leaving a trail of goosebumps down your neck.

“It’s beautiful,” you sigh.

Jeremy spins you in his arms, hugging your waist tightly. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. Leaning down, he glances from your eyes to your lips and back.

You do the same, heart racing as you see his adam’s apple bob. Pushing up on your tiptoes, you almost close the gap between your mouths. 

“Is this the part where we kiss?” you ask breathily, looking up at Jeremy through fluttering lashes.

He answers with action - a palm flat on your back, pulling you together. His lips are soft, but you feel the need, the urgency behind the kiss. You grip the front of his soft flannel in one hand, attempting to pull him even closer to you.

Jeremy groans into you, he loves knowing that you’re just as desperate as he is. Testing your limits, he nips lightly at your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan and Jeremy quickly swallows it, heart soaring at the sound. Threading your fingers through his messy brown hair, you feel a dizzying weightlessness. 

Jeremy feels it too. Peeking his eyes open just a crack, he realizes the two of you are levitating.

Oh shit.

He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours. Willing his rasping breath to come easier, he feels his feet settle back on the ground. In an attempt to keep your suspicions at bay, he pulls your body close in a tight hug before setting you down. You blink up at him, dazed. Leaning down, Jeremy kisses your forehead.

“At this rate we’ll never watch the movie,” he chuckles.

You settle into the blankets as Jeremy pops the VHS of Casablanca into the old television. As the tape slides into the machine, he sits next to you.

The title card appears in curly cursive script and the black and white film begins in earnest.

Leaning over you whisper, “I didn’t realize it was a classic!”

“I hope that’s alright,” he says, glancing over at you.

You nod vigorously and Jeremy chuckles, returning his attention to the screen.

“But the others wait in Casablanca,” the narrator’s mid atlantic voice bellows out. “And wait and wait and wait.”

Jeremy mouths along. He’s memorized all the movies in the house by now, and he’s always identified with that line. But now, he wonders if all this time he’s been waiting for you.

The two of you are sitting a respectable distance apart, as is you weren’t trying to swallow one another moments before. You both have one hand strategically placed in the space left unoccupied. Pretending to play with the blankets, a ruse to inch fingers closer and closer. Finally you touch, it’s a light, innocent brush. Over in a second. But the electricity is there again, sending a shiver down your spine.

Jeremy’s head snaps to you.

“Are you cold?” he asks. 

Before you can reply, his flannel is off and he’s helping you into it. The worn fabric smells earthy, like fallen leaves and wet dirt. It’s an odd but comforting smell, and you pull it tightly around yourself. 

“C’mere,” he says, opening his arms for you to snuggle into. And snuggle you do. Laying your head on his chest, you drape a leg across his hips. Jeremy wraps his strong arms around you, holding your body to his. 

The two of you stay like this for a while, unmoving. Relaxing into the steady rise and fall of Jeremy’s breathing, you notice how cold he must be in only his t-shirt. Just as you start to feel guilty about taking his flannel, Jeremy begins to trace light circles onto the exposed flesh of your thigh. His touch is maddeningly gentle and leaves a trail of burning desire. Two can play this game. 

You softly run your nails from his chest down across his stomach. Jeremy’s breath hitches as his muscles tense under your touch. He grips your soft flesh, squeezing your thigh tightly once before returning to those damn circles.

Biting back a moan, you turn your head to trail featherlight kisses along his collarbone, up his neck and to his adam’s apple. His cock twitches against your leg as Jeremy's wandering fingers trail up to cup your ass. You moan, playfully nipping at his jaw. 

“You’re not paying attention,” Jeremy groans. 

“I am paying attention, I promise,” you giggle. Shifting your weight to rub against his growing erection. 

“I'll show you paying attention,” he growls.

Pushing back to sit up against the wall, Jeremy pulls you onto his lap. 

You look so pretty perched there, with your hands resting on his chest, blinking those beautiful eyes at him. One hand finds its home on your hip, and he gently strokes your cheek with the other. He would do anything for you in that moment. If you said you wanted the moon, he’d spend eternity pulling it down from the heavens. 

“Here’s looking at you, kid,” Jeremy whispers, in perfect time with the movie. 

You giggle and your plush lips beckon his attention and grabbing the back of your neck, Jeremy pulls your mouth to his. 

His aggression takes you by surprise, causing you to gasp. Jeremy wastes no time delving his tongue into your open mouth. You freeze at the sudden intrusion. Jeremy softly rubs his thumb along your waist, coaxing you to relax into the kiss. He nips and sucks at your tongue, swallowing the moans you spill as he grinds his hips up into you. 

Jeremy snakes a hand up to your throat, squeezing gently and you practically melt for him. Arching your back, you break the kiss as you thrust your tits into his face. He releases your waist to take them gladly. Grabbing your soft flesh, he groans. You’re not wearing a bra. 

My little slut.

Pulling at your nipples through the fabric, you gasp and squeeze your legs around his thighs. Claiming your lips once again, Jeremy decides it’s time to find out what color your panties really are. Grabbing a handful of your ass, he slowly pulls your dress up and up and…you pull away, panting.

You’re so beautiful with your face flushed and eyes dark, he thinks this must be a preview of what you look like when you orgasm and he can’t wait to find out. As he starts to pull your dress up even farther, you put a hand on his chest, halting his action. Turning, you look over your shoulder to see that the credits are rolling. 

“Shit!” you laugh. “It’s over!”

Jeremy grabs the remote and dangles it from two fingers.

“It doesn’t have to be over if you don’t want it to…”

“Okay that’s true,” you giggle, “I'll actually watch it this time. I promise.” 

You hold out a pinky to him and Jeremy links his long finger with yours.

“I won’t hold you to it,” he winks

Laughing, you roll off of his lap. He groans at the loss of contact. 

“Is it okay if we don’t go any further tonight?” you ask, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“Of course,” he sighs, cupping your face.

He gives you a light kiss on the forehead and you snuggle back up against him. Rewinding the movie, Jeremy finds the last part you remember. 

What a fucking tease. He’s going to make you pay for this later. 

You’re fully engrossed in the movie this time and Jeremy lightly plays with your hair. All the while he is dreaming up just what to do to get you back. 

When the movie finishes you reluctantly sit up. 

“I guess I should head home,” you yawn. “Unless you need help taking all this down?”

“Nah, I’ll take care of it later,” Jeremy replies. “Let’s get you home.”

Jeremy descends the treehouse steps first, something about being there to catch you if you slip. Hugging his flannel tight to your body, you carefully make your way down the rungs. When you near the ground, you feel Jeremy’s strong hands on your hips. He helps you hop down and you walk hand in hand back to the front of the house. When you near the edge of his yard, he pulls you into his body and presses his forehead to yours.

“See you tomorrow?” he murmurs hopefully. 

“You know where I’ll be,” you laugh.

Leaning up, you press a soft kiss to his lips. Jeremy’s greedy hands want more. They want to drag you up to his room so he can touch every inch of your flesh. To give you pleasure you haven’t even dreamed of. Instead, he simply squeezes your hands before releasing you into the night. 

He stands, unmoving as he watches you go. Once you’re safely inside, Jeremy slips up to his room. 

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Turning on your lamp, you look out your window at Jeremy’s room. It’s still dark. 

He must be picking up the tree house.

Taking off Jeremy's flannel, you breathe in the scent of him when a sudden strange feeling comes over you. It’s like you’re moving on autopilot or something. Slipping your dress over your head, you saunter toward your full length mirror. You adjust it a bit, tilting and turning the mirror until the reflection is just right. Then you take a step back and get a good look at yourself. Almost naked, except for your red panties. 

I thought they were red, a smug thought echoes in your head. 

Your hand reaches for the flannel and you shrug it back on, thankful for its warmth. You must have forgotten to close the window earlier. Instead of shutting out the night air, your legs take you to the edge of your bed. Before you sit down, you slide your panties over your ass and down your legs, flicking them across the room at the mirror with your foot. 

You don’t even have time to question the action before you’re settling down on the edge of your bed, spreading your thighs wide. You take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror, naked except for Jeremy's open shirt. 

Such a perfect little slut, the smug voice taunts. 

You want to argue, but your hand begins to lightly trace up your body. From your knee, up your thigh, ghosting across your stomach and resting on your breast. You squeeze, and it feels eerily similar to how Jeremy touched you earlier. The thought evaporates when you roll your hard nipple between your fingers. You fall back onto the bed, as your other hand starts toying with your clit. 

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

He's done it. He never tried before, no one seemed worth the energy. But Jeremy has successfully possessed you. He isn’t sure the power really reaches that far, so maybe it’s more like influencing you. But that means you wouldn’t be doing the actions he’s implanting in your psyche if deep down you didn’t want to…right? 

The first thing he did was make sure he could watch you. He had you adjust your mirror so he can perfectly see you spayed out on your bed from the comfort of his desk. 

And splayed you are. 

Here’s looking at you, kid. 

Jeremy was teasing his cock before, lighting stroking it as you disrobed. But now that you have two fingers poised to enter your tight wet pussy, he can’t hold back any longer. 

He grips the base of his cock hard and groans, your cue to sink those fingers into your core. Jeremy’s hips stutter up into his fist as he hears a faint moan float through the window. He can see your hand moving faster and faster, hurriedly he speeds up his strokes. Desperate to match your pace. Your other hand snakes to circle your clit, causing your back to arch off the bed. Jeremy is hunched over his desk, eyes glued to your mirror. If he had an ounce of self respect, he may feel ashamed. Fisting his cock like a pervert to the little show he’s making you put on. But fuck, seeing you like this. His will being done so perfectly. It has to be right.

“Another finger baby,” he whispers. 

And instantly you respond. The resounding moan you release knocks the breath from his chest. So desperate. So hungry. A sound that says your fingers aren’t enough. His cock pulses in his fist. He’s dangerously close, but so are you.

“Cum for me,” he huffs, fucking up into his fist in earnest.

You whine, thighs trembling as your fingers pump in and out of your core.

Fuck you’re perfect.

As you orgasm, his name tumbles from those perfect lips. If it had just been once, Jeremy could’ve convinced himself he’ imagined it. But then you cry it over and over, chanting his name like a prayer. He can’t hold back any more. With one final buck of his hips, Jeremy cums with your name on his tongue.

It’s the most intense orgasm he can remember. Maybe it has something to do with the semi-possesion, maybe it’s just what you bring out in him, but Jeremy swears he’s seeing stars. 

When he finally comes down, he realizes he can’t sense you any longer. 

Fuck.

He must’ve lost the connection. His heart is beating so fast, he can’t hear a thing. But he stares intently at your mirror. At your frozen form, still spread perfectly for him to see. 

Then you stir.

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

You come to after what is maybe the hardest you’ve ever orgasmed. Definitely the best orgasm you’ve had with just your fingers. Why you didn’t grab your vibrator, you’re not sure. Groaning, you prop up on your elbow and look into the mirror. For a second you swear you see a pair of eyes shining back at you in the shadow of the reflection. Blinking, you sit up further. But the mirror is empty, reflecting only your open window. 

A cool breeze dances across your exposed skin and you shiver, pulling Jeremy’s soft flannel tight across your body. 

Jeremy…did I really just call his name when I…

You shake your head, dismissing the thought and get up to stretch out your tight muscles. Crossing the room, you go to close the window. Before you shut it, you lean out. The moonlight illuminates your form perfectly, naked save for that damn flannel. You can’t see him, but for some reason you think you can feel his gaze on you.

“Goodnight, Jeremy,” you giggle softly and you pull the window closed.

When the frame thuds shut, Jeremy finally breathes out a sigh. Shaking his head, he lets out a soft chuckle.

Playing with you is going to be so much fun.

[boxwright]

Fleetwood Mac - Peter Green

[galamerapple]

insane views from the sunshine court

[juicesnatcher]

I have no clue where I was going with this, my friend just suggested them to be watching the jeremey

[rorydrawsandwrites]

hows it going: a space to talk about whatever you want, if you want

To clarify: you have just given me a Yapping Permit. I will use this irresponsibly and with reckless abandon

Time to talk about Firkász/Scribbles in the Puzzlevision arc 🎉

(Reminder that there is plenty of lore I simply do not know at all, may be forgetting something important I should know at any given moment, and in general just get silly and self-indulgent with it. If I'm missing crucial details though lmk gently)

In all honesty I still have no idea how their acquaintanceship. Starts. Like I could tell you about the middle and the ending (which I will) but when it comes to how these two buffoons would initially get close enough to enable all that comes next my mind just blanks for now. I'm not. Even really sure what Puzzles had been doing before all this. I've guessed he'd been attempting to get famous on his own, no mind control and kidnappings involved yet? But kept failing and being turned down because he "just doesn't have what it takes", amplifying his desperation to prove people wrong

Once fate (a.k.a the meddling of my grubby little hands) does somehow bring them together I can see a sort of connection forming naturally because they're both long-suffering creatives who highly value The Art of it and wish to be recognized for their talents. They could brainstorm a screenplay together like he said he wanted... she could draw out the storyboards... oh the magnificent chaos. They would either love bouncing ideas back and forth or clash constantly because neither are team players and both are very particular about their own vision. But maybe they could compromise eventually

There's also the fact that they're pretty complementary personalities and can also relate to each other on a deeper level than the above but we're not getting into that in this post because it's gonna be long enough as is

Assuming that they do already become at least somewhat involved with each other before the events of the arc, here's some of what I can see happening

The aftermath of the Puzzlevision movie is definitely a turning point in their relationship. After the main crew beats his ass and his TV gets yeeted far far away I imagine she's the one to find him first instead of Mario (or he lands in her backyard, because convenient plot elements are convenient). I can see him being bummed out for a bit, he has every reason to grieve his shattered victory before he picks himself back up with manic enthusiasm and continues his quest for fame, and as she grabs his TV in spite of the glass shards and brings him in from the starting rainfall and inside her home, he questions her loyalty. Why would she still help? After he's been so brutally defeated, humiliated on live broadcast? What could she possibly be hoping to gain from this? And she's like I just care about you, dumbass. You're funny and lively and I wanna match your freak I find you pretty fascinating. I understand what yearning for recognition is like and I wanna help you get somewhere with your self-fulfillment but with a little less attempted murder this time please. And his friendless little mind is just blown but he's like yippee awesome let's get to it

She hopes after all that they could start on a different approach that avoids the SMG4 crew altogether. So anyway his first request is can you smuggle me into the Showgrounds I just wanna talk to them

Wait, so how did she feel about him trapping people in the shows? Welp. Nothing she could do. She was helpless! But she was sooo worried for them all while chewing popcorn on her couch at home watching the streams from her laptop, trust (she's a little bit cold and fucked up too there's just no other way these two could work out, plus she WAS technically helpless to stop him)

Another idea I've had is that... he stalks people, right. He canonically stalked Mario, he'd been watching all of them through screens and shit I think, it's a pretty standard part of his practices. If it's in person I think she would come along. People watcher + wants to supervise him + it's technically hanging out, her only qualm is the fear of getting caught. Girl why are your morals so lax about stalking. What is wrong with you. You're lucky your boyfriend makes you look like an angel in comparison

(Him frantically taking notes on Mario's source of the funni behind a bush + her getting bored two minutes in and just sketching the neighboring house or something until he's done. Parallel play <3)

Honestly her presence overall changes little to nothing in the story. Adds some things but the outcome of each mini-arc is the same. And I don't think it necessarily diminishes the Leggy friendship either, because having Two people you're bonded with after a lifetime of loneliness is indeed twice the amount of One, but it's still. Not a lot. That loss is still gonna fuck him up and make him worse (which also makes things worse for Firkász as a target of codependence, but more on such psychological burdens later)

Anyway something sillier I thought of is when Pedro is created she immediately assumes a parental role for no reason. She is a mom now & that is her son. And Puzzles is the dad, even though he vehemently denies this. "Don't talk to your son that way" "I'm not a father damn it" "but you created him" "yes but that doesn't make me-" and then Pedro starts looking all sad in a meme-y way. Do not deny your son Puzzles. Hesitantly he accepts the title if only to keep his minion cooperative

When Mario and Pedro have the meme-off she's in the audience cheering. Emotional support. Then Pedro loses but starts hanging out with Mario and finding himself, away from his deadbeat dad who only wanted to use him for views. I think it'd be really funny if he kept in touch with Firkász afterward but not Puzzles. One day her phone starts ringing during a conversation and she'll casually check it like "oh it's sonny boy Pedro" and while she goes to answer it he's just like "what"

Eventually she would also start suspecting that Puzzles might be homeless. He swings by her place often yet she's never seen his, he does all his villainous business in these abandoned buildings, and he's not really working or earning money? So she eventually asks "by the way where do you live" and after a series of unsatisfactory answers she's like "oh my god. just move in with me"

Then again is it really moving in if he's already hanging around like half the time. He can just come and go through television I guess. If she had one

But also I wasn't kidding when I offhandedly mentioned in that tag that she would ditch him for making brainrot. Look he's not proud of himself either but he swears up and down it's gonna bring the success he's been waiting for and still she's having none of it. Because that's just disgusting. Brainrot. For children. Mr Puzzles why are you trying to exploit children. And what of the artistic integrity. They argue and lucky for her he actually takes the initiative to leave with a suitcase (which is odd because did he even bring anything with him. is it just an empty prop for dramatic effect. has he taken things from her house), proclaiming loudly that he's going to be the most successful creator ever and when he's finally as rich and famous as he deserves she'll be knocking at the door of his mansion begging for him to have her by his side, just she waits-

An amount of days later she finds him on her doorstep, teary-eyed and dejected. She saw all the callout videos and streams. She knows exactly what happened

Now there are multiple ways the Puzzle Park conundrum could go, each slightly varying in the amount of angst that follows. The simplest one is the cop-out where, coincidentally, during the entire Didney takeover and the SMG4 crew's entrapment Firkász just so happens to be Somewhere Else. Like while no one way paying attention she went to visit family or something. Blissfully unaware until return. It would be of course hilarious that she just casually misses colossal events like that, but besides that he could even take offense to it

"I FINALLY made the most GLORIOUS THEME PARK and you didn't even SEE IT" "I'm sorry I was in Budapest. Anyway what the FUCK Puzzles"

The other and less pleasant alternative is her not sneaking a trip abroad and sticking around for the entire thing, which is bad because while she loves stepping as far aside as allowed when heinous things happen and then washing her hands, or maybe at this point she's even disturbed and concerned and afraid enough to want to cut him off, he won't let it happen. Making him care for her was her second mistake. (Caring herself was the first.) Now he's unwilling to lose her, and he possesses significant power with which he can make her submit. She's faced with the choice of either shutting up obediently, or being brainwashed along with the crew. He won't hurt her or, God forbid, torture her, oh no, he would never do something so horrible to his lovely Scribbles. But her personal autonomy is, for the moment, entirely negligible

If she's brainwashed and controlled, well, that's just utterly violating and something she'd have a very hard time forgiving. Girl what did you expect, he's the Brainwashes And Controls People Guy, you saw that red flag and you made a cozy little blindfold out of it. Coupled with the fact that she'd be the singular person to ever visit him in containment that means a lotta screaming, feeling wretched, then doing it again next week. Perhaps she'd stop coming one day, because she could no longer find more affection in herself than resentment to scrape out during those few hours, but it would eat her alive. Besides it would be dangerous... what if he breaks out somehow. What if she's never safe. Buuut that went a bit too serious and scary and we gotta stay silly here so on to the next option-

(Before we move on I think brainwashed Scribs would be dressed up very fancy and showy, like a magician's assistant. In a bold royal purple and sparkling gold perhaps. She'd perch elegantly on top of a TV, legs crossed, sneering at the bumbling contestants)

If she's taken but allowed her consciousness, I have fondly imagined that she gets the dubious honor of staying with him, physically speaking, inside the engine room... just imagine the feeling. Stuck in direct proximity of such a colossal mechanical being that's hanging from cables upon cables, huge screens surrounding you overlooking the park. I think it's pretty epic, if you aren't busy being terrified. Hey Scribbles didn't you want hands-on inspiration for your next novella anyway, maybe it could be tech horror-

This way she can witness all the fun challenges while still within a safe and agreeable proximity. Besides I don't think he would've ever intended a more physical role for her in the management of the park anyhow. She's more like arm candy or something... in this case for his enjoyment only ;)

Now as for Puzzles' defeat I've been tempted to not tamper with that either. It would certainly be less hassle, plus I don't know why, unlike the shameless self-indulgence of my AUs, when it comes to OC insertion I just get... shy to upset the status quo and the natural flow of events. Feels like a transgression unless based on extremely good reasoning. For the record I won't come into your house and steal all your cheese if you do it, by all means live out your Mary Sue dreams, comrades; this is mainly me being strict with myself. With Puzzles and M(L)eggy I don't wanna take away from the significance of their shared arc, albeit in the case of Firkász here being built up as an important companion suchly, I feel like either of them could reasonably do the deed. There may be a world where a conscious Firkász, already at prime proximity, decides to save the trio from a death struggle by going inside his head in an act of betrayal. But that's juuust a theory! /ref

Small side note, I feel like Leggy appearing to Child Puzzles in his mindscape did more harm than good anyway... since it only cemented his obsession with the little nugget. And whatever "power of friendship" lesson he's "learned" is pretty diminished by the fact that his crimes and mental instability have landed him a likely lifelong spot in solitary confinement. (Some people say he might come back, I fear for that possibility but also, slay king, we love to have you.) And besides I don't think he even learned a damn thing. His obsessive tendencies are just focused on his Companion Cube now

That leads me into my final point, the post-canon alterations... oh how much more comfortable it is, to meddle with a part of the timeline that has yet to be clearly paved against your intentions. There is soft and bountiful soil here, albeit radioactive

Picture this. You're Scribbles. Your boyfriend is in extremely high security prison and batshit insane. He's still your boyfriend. He has literally no one else. Of course you're gonna be visiting him

The first time she comes in she's horrified to see that they tied him to the bed. Untie him. Untie him right now what the hell were you all thinking. She'll formally request it if she must, yes she knows what he did but this is just inhumane. Twenthy layers of concrete bricks and metal are more than enough to keep him in there. He has rights too goddamnit

Side note do you think they did that because he could also be considered a threat to himself. Well whoops

I mean I guess how much he's restrained would still be conditional on his behavior so as a compromise what if it varied. Scribbles returns after a week and he's inexplicably in a straitjacket now, greeting her all innocently like "honeyyy hiiii :))" and she's all "what the hell did you do this time". He proceeds to explain that he didn't DO anything it's just that when he snapped at the psychatrist and threatened to rip out her spine then crush each vertebra individually before her eyes she didn't take it as a joke

It's evident from Leggy 2.0's existence that after the canon events he gets even more obsessive, if that's even possible, of his perceived connections so you may expect historical magnitudes of codependence here... I mean the power dynamics have been flipped and at any point she could just walk away forever and leave him to rot... so initially he'll have a hard time letting Scribbles go for the day (which is honestly understandable as he's in solitary confinement). When she must depart and he almost rips the cell door off its hinges she commissions a plushie of herself so he has something to remind him of her when she's away. Naturally he talks to it all the time. Leggy Rock and Scribbles Stuffie are buddies

Now she's not a mental health professional... I don't know if they would actually bother assigning him a therapist... I think that therapist would also need a therapist. Or maybe he's a group effort. Either way she'd come up with little crafty activities they can do together other than talking, using what she's allowed to bring in his cell. Paper... crayons I think... bro isn't even trusted with a pen. But drawing is a fun one regardless of your utensils. Origami... I feel like that would activate his perfectionism but once he gets a paper flower right he's so proud of himself and sticks it in her hair and she looks so pretty with it wow. I saw a video on Insta where the OP had a "clay date" with her boyfriend and they made little clay figures of animals and that's so cute too. Imagine the various paper and clay creations piling up on his nightstand over the months. A warm and friendly sight in the otherwise sterile room

A less wholesome opportunity is him recreating his enemies as little clay effigies and squeezing them to death. No Puzzles don't do that. Bad television

Funnily enough, though it can be exhausting to deal with, there are things Firkász would enjoy about this turn of events. He's a talkative fellow at heart and while he might love the sound of his own voice it's mostly all he hears, so when she decides to be the one to rant or rave about what's on her mind, he listens to her. And that feels... nice. Formerly he was so consumed by his plotting that she'd stopped feeling like she ever truly had his attention. When she visits now their time together is just about the two of them (after he accepts she's not going to break him out) and she's gushing about her new idea for a storyboarded sequence or she's describing the world of a novel never to be made or she's showing him her sketchbook or she's complaining about the shit day she had at work and he adds his own commentary to it but he's hearing her out and his eyes aren't on anyone or anything else. You know. Feels a lot like getting back someone you loved

Do I think he would eventually be released in light of her positive influence on his mental health? Hmm... dubious. I would definitely enjoy a redemption arc for him but as a part of that he's gotta stay out of the SMG4 crew's business. They owe him no forgiveness after all that

It would give way to amusing interactions of course if Firkász had made good acquaintaces with them in the meantime so as a result they and Puzzles have to sort of... tolerate each other sometimes... Meggy would probably like seeing his improvement but also at a distance, for now... it's kinda weird for them isn't it, because they both only liked each other when she was turned into the equivalent of a toddler

Anyway all of the above was really just a lengthy excuse to give Scribbles scary dog privileges. Yes I said it. Pretty sure many people would remember or have heard of the threat this man was and even if they don't know, just look at him. Look at that face. Does this face make you feel safe

Well it shouldn't

Touch his morality chain and there's a nonzero chance you'll be begging him to release you from the mortal coil by 2PM. He may be trying his best, but old habits die hard... and you'll die harder :)

...I don't mean it that way. Head out of the gutter. Please

Is any of that healthy for a relationship? Well uhh erm... hmm... ah. Oh well. Anyway

This concludes my ramble about the little bitch that lives in my mind since four days ago and the clinically insane television man I'm tacking her onto like a sticky hand. It has been three days of jotting down and editing the lore and all of this may be stupid but fuck it we ball (gotta keep killing cringe culture). Nonetheless I'm looking forward to taking -2 psychic damage every time I remember writing any part of this ✌️sayonara

[sunncourts]

also, have some lil guys as a treat!