#tall people with strong noses is a weakness of mine oops

[neerasrealm]

Im re-reading the JasonxZalgo headcanons and thinking about how the confession went. Do you think you could write that specifically?👀

This was supposed to be an angry love confession but instead it devolved into fluff and crying OOPS. But uhh wow I really like writing jalgo. Or maybe I just like fast paced affection idk man

Hating your boss is a universal experience. This I'm sure of. If you don't despise your boss with every fiber of your being, you're in the wrong career. And if you're self employed...erm- go fuck yourself I guess??

But I think very few people can relate to despising your boss because he refuses to stop hugging you from behind while you're trying to get work done. Oh that's called sexual harassment? Hm. Well we don't exactly have a HR department considering we don't have an office and we live together. Alone. Oh well. 

My boss is a man named Zalgo. He's tall, with copper brown skin and soft brown hair that's tipper with orange and red. He's charming, suave, intelligent, oh so handsome, and also an all powerful god of destruction. Yeah, weren't expecting that one now were ya?

Right now I'm sitting at my desk, trying to work while Zalgo stands behind me, leaning his full weight on my poor back and humming as he nuzzles his face affectionately into my neck. He's always affectionate and it drives me crazy in both the good and bad way. I adore the warmth that spreads throughout my body when he touches me. I adore the feeling of his palms running down my chest and the sounds of him humming and giggling just inches from my ear. But I also hate it. I hate the way my stomach lurches when he affectionately purrs my name. I hate the way he looks at me and I hate the way he makes me feel. 

If it were anyone, anyone else I'd be overjoyed at feeling this way but...it can't be Zalgo. He's- well...Zalgo. An all powerful god, a being so far above me and...a man. Zalgo has never addressed it but...being a god shouldn't he know? How bad it is? What would happen if someone, ANYONE from the human race were to see us as we are now? Reveling in the warmth of love's young touch, melting against and into it like the warmth of a fire. 

He hums again, his breath feels warm against my neck and it makes me break out in goosebumps. His hands hold my hips as he stands up, his warmth and weight moving away and leaving me colder but with better posture. 

"Take a break, Jason." He says, his voice smooth and cheerful. I don't want to argue with him, so I do as I'm told. I sit back a bit and Zalgo quickly moves to my front. He sits on my lap, my fucking lap and runs his hand all over me. Down my front, my back, my chest. He grips my hip with one hand and intertwines our fingers with the other. He squeezes my hand and nuzzles my neck. My breath catches in my throat and my body shudders. 

The sensation of being touched is overwhelming. He's so warm, so soft. I can't stand it. I can't! He's too kind, he's too beautiful, he's too perfect! Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't it have been anyone else? And why me? Why does he shower me, of all people, with all of this unwarranted affection and words as sweet as honey? What did I do to earn him…?

"Jason…" he breathes against my neck. Delicate, strong hands unbutton my shirt and his lips press against the flesh of my throat, gliding down and pressing kisses against me, blocking air from me for only a few moments before moving away again. I say that like it's possible to breathe with Zalgo kissing up my throat, nipping and sucking on my skin like he owns it. He chuckles against me, a low soft noise that sends butterflies through my stomach. 

"Zalgo…" I breathe above him. All I can see of him is his strong body moving below me, and the top of his hair. It's so...soft looking. My hand, the one not gripping Zalgo's like a vice, moves up and I run it through his hair. It's as soft as I thought it would be, and running my hand through it feels so, so good. God I- I could stay here forever, just playing with his hair…

"Jason." Zalgo repeats again. I hum softly. He pulls his head of soft hair away from my hand and I look down at him. He stares up at me with deep, golden eyes and I feel myself falling into them. Falling into the colour, into the way they shine, falling into the confident, charming grin on his face, falling head over heels in love all over again. And every time it feels so painful knowing it'll never go past this. Never go past these nights in my workshop, where I'm left just dreaming for something more than this. 

His hands delicately cup my face and he leans in, pressing his forehead against mine. Our noses are touching. He's so close, I can feel every part of him against every part of me but it still isn't enough. I want to feel his arms around me, I want him to hold me tight against him, I want to feel his lips against mine, I want to hear him purr my name and tell me all the feelings I know he doesn't have for me.

"Zalgo." I whisper to him. His eyes open, bright and gold, staring straight into me. I melt against him. He's staring at me, calm and patient. I just- I just want to tell him everything I feel for him...the way he makes my stomach do flips, the way his touch sends goosebumps across my skin, the way I hear his voice in my dreams. The words are there but my mouth won't speak them. All I can do is let out a hoarse croak that's supposed to be sweet nothings, like the ones Zalgo gives me so casually. 

"Jason?" He moves away from me, suddenly looking worried. "Jason are you crying?" He asks me oh-so-gently. I gulp and blink. I didn't even realize- my eyes had started tearing up, stinging as tears roll down my face. I gulp. "What's wrong?" His hand runs through my hair. 

I love you is all I want to say. I love you but it's not possible, I love you but you're a god, I love you but I can't because we both had to be men. Guilt ties a knot in my stomach and makes me only sob harder. 

"Jason, Jason dear it's okay." He breathes. I sniffle, whining like a child. "What's wrong?" 

"I-" my voice sounds high pitched, feeble and scared. I swallow thickly. "Z-Zalgo I…" I can't say it. I can't I can't I can't. Zalgo's hands hold my face again and he looks at me. Those eyes, those damn golden eyes are so full of love and compassion and I hate it. 

"...I know." He whispers. I inhale sharply.

"Wh-what?" 

"I know." He repeats. He wipes a tear from my eye and I sniff weakly. I don't understand I don't- what does he- "I love you too, nounour." 

And that breaks me. That was the final fucking push I needed to break into pathetic tears. He always knows how to make me cry, doesn't he…? 

His arms wrap around me, holding me close. It's nothing but more shame. I'm weak, cowardly, I burst into tears so easily, and now I'm being held and comforted and shushed. He's rubbing circles into my back, murmuring his sweet nothings again. I love him, I love him so much and he knows that. 

So is that why he's kissing me? Is that why he moved over and pressed his soft, warm lips against mine? Is that why he's kneading against me, his hands cupping my face? Is this it…? Is this the dream I've always been chasing? Or is he just placating me? 

"Jason." He murmurs as our lips part. "You're the closest friend I have ever had. You're the person I trust more than anyone," he caresses my jawline, his voice soft and so loving. "I love you...dearly." 

I stare up at him. "...is this a lie?" I breathe. It's bold, calling his bluff like this, but what do I have to lose now? 

He shakes his head. "Never." He replies as he leans down and kisses me again. "...not about this." 

Somehow I believe him. Somehow I believe he genuinely cares about me...somehow, I can believe, Zalgo is capable of loving someone like me. And that’s why I melt into his kisses and let him hold me tight for what feels like hours. Our lips melt so naturally together, our hands feel so perfect on one another like they were always meant to be that way. I love him, well and truly, and he loves me too. It’s something he has told me time and time again but as I lay in bed next to him, staring into his eyes, it’s not something he even has to say...and neither do I.