Jul 18
Petition to make Wilson "Motherlovin" Warfstache the Jackson Wang equivalent for the Gosling Markiplier verse.
seen from Angola
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Switzerland
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from Canada
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Japan
seen from Netherlands
seen from Australia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Italy
Petition to make Wilson "Motherlovin" Warfstache the Jackson Wang equivalent for the Gosling Markiplier verse.
the happy ending for crimson supernova is gonna be gojo and geto seeing each other again and kissing at a jackson wang party
I just read an Anderperry fic with fucking Jackson Wang party mention. Why the fuck is he EVERYWHERE 😭?!?
just got “Party host Jackson Wang (GOT7)”-ed on a knight of the seven kingdoms fic
A "Stark" Between Us
CH3 (AO3: @/cassironi2288)
rating: teen and up audiences
pairing: peter parker x reader
tags: reader is tony starks daughter, no use of y/n as self insert, slow burn, hurt/comfort, ongoing, incomplete, first kiss, fluff, angst, jackson wang party
summary: Tony Stark's illegitimate daughter is the best example of a nepo-baby and a perfect replica of her father. She loves partying. She loves technology. She is emotionally incompetent for the most part. She's just as snarky. Peter Parker is not a nepo-baby. He doesn't really party. As different as their lives are, they're both merely at the beginning and are more similar in ways they never realized.
or
reader gets devastating news and goes to a jackson wang party as cope and extreme slowburn between her and peter parker and i try to be as historically canonly (besides his love interests) and geographically accurate and correct
Friday, February 16th 2018, circa 12 PM
I pack a go bag with the basics; a few outfits and some makeup. And some hair tools. And different heels. Maybe a bit more than just the basics. I cover up with a hat and mask, taking a bus to the city, not leaving any notes about where I’m going. I make reservations to stay with a friend rather than a hotel. It’s easier to find me if there’s a hotel.
-
I huff as I rest my heavy suitcase in the small apartment. “Thanks for letting me crash.”
“Of course, you know I’ve always got your back,” Arthur replies, smiling. “What party are you going to again tonight?”
“I don’t know. Could be a frat party, could be at some rave club, who can tell? A party is a party when you need it.” I sigh as I slump on the couch. “How’re you and that Peter boy?” I pause in my somber, trying to remember the last time I saw him.
Winter of 2016
I haven’t seen Peter in the past few months. I mean, I’ve seen him but we haven’t talked. It’s mainly just been awkward glances, occasional waves, only ever when he’s over to hang out with or train with dad. Unfortunately, that all changes today. Christmas of 2016. Christmas at the compound. Because Happy Hogan and the Grand Mr. Stark of Stark Industries decided they wanted to invite as many people as possible for this holiday.
I refresh my virgin pina colada, the bells of my over-the-top ugly sweater jingling. The adults play White Elephant, Vision still getting to understand the concept of Christmas as this is only his second. May opens the gift she selected, the crowd groaning as it’s revealed to be a “poopy” gift with Poo-Pourri and related items. I laugh to myself, leaning on the kitchen counter.
“Hi.” I turn to my side, Peter standing there with his own drink. “Hey.” I smile awkwardly at him. “Too much ‘shit’ going on over there for you too?” I ask, laughing lightly. He chuckles back, shifting to move closer and lean against the counter alongside me. “How was homecoming by the way?” I ask, taking another sip as I look back at the shenanigans. “It was fine, you know. I fought my date’s dad, proved happy wro-”
I choked on my drink. Date. Good for him I guess, no hard feelings. I was the person who rejected him in the first place, it’s only fair he moves on and goes with someone else, it’s nothing personal.
“Sorry, did I say something wrong?” he asks, his eyebrows perking up. I wipe my face, “No, I just choked on my drink, you know. But continue.”
-
The adults finally finish their Christmas games; they couldn’t decide between Secret Santa and White Elephant so they did both. So it’s time to open gifts. I open the expected, something extravagant from dad and Pepper, soaps and bubbles from May, the latest teenage girl trends from Vision, everything a girl could ask to be bought. I make it to a floral box, sealed with ribbon, with no name tag. I carefully open it, finding some wrapped trinkets and a
From: Peter
Hope you like it :)
I put the notecard back inside and open one of the trinkets. It’s a cassette tape. In 2016? Do I even own a player? I turn it to the back where there’s a tracklist. It’s my favorite classics in a numbered list. The last track is titled,
Top-Secret Message: DO NOT SHARE!
I put the cassette back in the box and reach for another item. It's a little ceramic sculpture of the bodega cat that came up to me when Peter and I got subs the last time I was in the city with him. I smile holding it, the spots and the markings a complete replica of the cat. The last thing in the box is a… Lego spiderman keychain? With a note?
To keep you safe!
I laugh to myself, it’s cute. I look up at him and he’s already staring at me, smiling back. I mouth the words thank you to him and he nods. That night, I put the keychain in my favorite vintage Prada shoulder bag. In of course, not out, that’d be suspicious to literally everyone.
Friday, February 16th 2018, circa 4 PM
“There had to have been a more recent time, no way you haven’t seen him since Lala Land came out!” he exclaims. I sigh, looking up and trying to think harder. “Well, that’s the last time I saw him and something good happened.” I roll over on the couch, checking the time. It’s already been an hour since I got here? The bus ride was around 3 hours so I guess it makes sense. “I’m gonna start getting ready, are you going with me tonight?” I ask, standing up and putting my hair back.
“I’m just gonna stay in tonight.” Arthur replies. “Is it because of that ‘Ben’ guy?” I ask. “He’s just so complicated,” Arthur groans. I drag him by his arm, “C’mon, WE are going to this party.”
As I hop in for a shower, I think harder about the last time I saw Peter.
December 31st 11:50 PM, New Years Eve
I stumble, catching myself on the DJ’s table. Lights are flashing, my heart rate rising as I fail to realize my drink is spilling all over the floor. I giggle half heartedly, twisting to the music. The party is getting a little out of hand but what Stark doesn’t know how to throw a properly out-of-hand-and-wild one? I put a hand on the DJ’s shoulder.
“Can you play that one Shawn Mendeya song? There’s nothing stopping me or something?” I shouted.
“Do you mean Mendes?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
The first note plays and I jump, excited and making my way towards the crowded dance floor. Before I know it, I’m engulfed by even more people. I stop for a moment, catching my breath in the hot room. I look into the crowd and see Peter. He seems to have just made his way on the dance floor since he’s still pretty tense. He makes eye contact with me and squeezes his way through the crowd.
“Hi,” he says. “Hi,” I giggle back. I hand my drink to a random person to keep. “Do you dance?” I ask. “Not really,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Let’s dance,” I reply.
He starts off stiff, bouncing between his feet, as I wiggle drunkenly in random movements.
“1 minute until 12!” the DJ shouts.
I look at Peter, staring into his eyes. They’re full of pure intentions. There’s no deceit in them like the guys who’ve left me crying into my pillows. His eyes lack the ambiguity of the boys I’ve kissed. There isn’t a trace of transaction or superficial wants in them, all I see is care and kindness. It’s a sparkle that can’t be found in the rules, its a sincerity deeply written in them, blossomed from true emotions and compassion. I take a step closer to him. He takes a step back. I stop, maintaining whatever distance there is in the crowd.
“You’re not in the right headspace. You’re drunk,” he says.
“I don’t care.” I stare deeply as he starts to fidget from eye contact.
“I want to do it even when I’m sober. I wanted to at Christmas. Even way before that.”
“20 seconds!”
“It’s not right, you’re under the influence.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” I say as I step closer. I rest a hand on his shoulder, my forearm relaxing on his chest. I look up at him and bring my hand up to caress his cheek.
“5!”
He grabs my hand gently.
“4!”
His hand is now on my cheek.
“3!”
I slowly inch my face closer to his
“2!”
I can feel his breath on my lips now.
“1!”
“Alright, party is over,” rings through the microphone. I sober up, flinching to look back at the DJ’s stage; it’s dad. “Thanks for coming, now, everybody who I didn’t create, you have 5 minutes to get out of my house,” he announces, looking straight at me in the crowd with a sarcastic smile, obviously pissed off. He looks behind me and sees Peter. “You too, kid.”
I look at Peter, a mixture of hurt and fear in my eyes. “I’ll see you later,” he says as he walks away.
Friday, February 16th 2018, circa 5 PM
I shiver, wiping the fog and staring at myself in the mirror with my towel wrapped around me. I had pushed that thought to the back of my head for a while now. I change into comfortable clothes and officially begin to get ready. I turn on my GRWM playlist and blow dry my hair.
-
By the time it’s 9PM, I’m ready with my blow out, glittery and dewy makeup, and accessories. I have on a pink mesh, flowy tank top that's bedazzled and bejeweled mini jean shorts. “Isn’t your birthday tomorrow? Shouldn’t you be home?” Arthur asks as he helps assist me with the buckle for my baby pink heels that have very long straps.
“Maybe.” I reply, holding onto my giant faux fur coat, slowly kicking my other foot. Arthur stands up, picking his coat up off the rack. “Ready?”
“Always.”
A "Stark" Between Us
CH4 (AO3: @/cassironi2288)
rating: teen and up audiences
pairing: peter parker x reader
tags: reader is tony starks daughter, no use of y/n as self insert, slow burn, hurt/comfort, ongoing, incomplete, first kiss, fluff, angst, jackson wang party
summary: Tony Stark's illegitimate daughter is the best example of a nepo-baby and a perfect replica of her father. She loves partying. She loves technology. She is emotionally incompetent for the most part. She's just as snarky. Peter Parker is not a nepo-baby. He doesn't really party. As different as their lives are, they're both merely at the beginning and are more similar in ways they never realized.
or
reader gets devastating news and goes to a jackson wang party as cope and extreme slowburn between her and peter parker and i try to be as historically canonly (besides his love interests) and geographically accurate and correct
Friday, February 16th 2018 9:30 PM
Pledges are outside of the house, checking for ID’s, waving people in, pushing people away. Not my first rodeo. I slowly step up to the front, brushing my hair out of my face and throw a quick smile to the freshman in front of me. He checks around him to see if anyone has noticed you yet.
“Iron Man’s daughter?” he whispers to me. “I have a name.” I say, walking in as I hold Arthur behind me. “And a reputation too,” the frat boy says under his breath. I brush it off and head through the front doors, watching my step as I avoid getting my shoes dirtier than they need to be.
The music is blasting, the bass amped up. The main house lights are off but it seems they’ve got party lights or something installed here. I immediately head towards the alcohol station, dragging Arthur along with me. I grab a seltzer and offer it to Arthur, who promptly shakes his head. We head back to the center of the party as I crack it open and start the night.
“Hey, I knew my favorite girl would make it,” says a voice behind me. I turn around to greet him. “I’d never miss a Jackson Wang party,” I say, taking another sip out of my drink. “Get crazy but not too crazy, we don’t want another article that adds to your ‘reputation,’” he snides. I roll my eyes. “It’s not like I’m a whore or something. Not like any of the girls you’re getting with.” He holds his arms up in defeat at my banter. “Aye, I respect them tho,” he rebuttals. I chug the last few sips of my seltzer, “Just go grab me another drink.”
-
I can’t process a thing; not that I care to. Every sense is dull as the lights on are only those of party lights, it’s too hot as the dancing bodies of strangers engulf me, the only smell is of sweat and sin, and the only thing I can hear is music. I’ve heard this song before, it’s unreleased but it played at a charli xcx afterparty I once attended. The lyrics repeat constantly and it fills my head. I’d rather it be my only thought rather than the news I found out.
By the time I’m 3 seltzers in, my faux fur is missing and my hair is a mess. I don’t remember where Arthur went but there are certainly enough guys around me to not notice if one of them is him. Him.
I thought I’d be drunk enough to not think about him but even miles away from home, in a room of strangers and hot frat guys, I only really care about him. It’s so easy to talk to guys and mess with them. If you just keep eye contact, they try to act all cool and different.
I love American Psycho, Christian Bale is-
Oh, yeah? That’s so cool.
I thrift and have a Depop and take photos-
That’s really really unique! I only listen to Indie music and carry a tote bag-
Wow, that’s so niche.
I roll my eyes just thinking about how every guy I’ve been going out with lately is simply just the same. When you try so hard to be different, you go so far left you come out right. But that’s what makes him so different-
Before I can finish my thought, I slip on a mysterious liquid on the ground but before I can touch the ground, I’m caught by mysterious arms. I get up and dust myself off as quickly as I can, turning to see my savior.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I yell at him, readjusting my shirt to try and cover up my cleavage a bit. “Your dad-”
“Don’t even get me started on him.” I turn away from Peter, ready to get lost in the crowd. He grabs my wrist to turn me around. “Can you stop running away-”
“I don’t care, just leave me alone!” I shake his hand off of mine. My yelling catches the attention of a few people around us. “Is this guy bothering you?” a random guy asks. Judging by his composure and the entitlement to the area, he is definitely a higher ranking member of this frat. “No, I just need to talk to her, you see-”
“Oh my god, get it through your head, Peter. I am not going home,” I look up at him as I groan. “Just give me a few minutes to-”
“Just go away! None of it matters!” I start to raise my voice louder, drawing the attention of more people to us. “You’re both crashing this party, just get out!” The frat guy says. “No, I’m not leaving! I didn’t do anything wrong!.” I yell back frustrated. The frat guy is visibly getting annoyed and steps closer to me. “Who are you to argue here?” he asks, trying to intimidate me. Peter steps in between us, his back towards me, trying to deescalate the situation.
“Do you even know who I am, who my dad is?” I yell back, challenging him. Peter turns his head around to speak to me. “I don’t think you really want to bring that up right now.” I look at Peter, hurt in my eyes as I remember the reason why I left today. He greets me with a look of empathy, trying to console me.
I open up my mouth to speak but end up vomiting on the floor. Some of it splashes onto my shoes, Peter’s shoes, and the people surrounding us. The guy in front of us is now extremely, visibly upset as the once mosh-pit of a surrounding dissipates from disgust.
“Oops.”
-
We are now sitting on the curb of a New York street, me holding dirty napkins in my hands while covered in Peter’s jacket and thankfully, no longer puke. After stopping by a 24-hour pharmacy to wash up my face and get me water to sober up, we’ve ended up here, waiting for the next move. I slouch in guilt, pulling the jacket over my shoulders a bit more. Peter looks over, not sure how to approach me right now. “Happy will pick us up but we need to take the subway to meet with him at a different block.”
“Alright,” I responded quietly, staring at my shoes. They’ve become dirty, the pink covered in random spots of liquid. Probably from my puke and the floor of a frat house.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks me, concerned. “No.” I replied coldly. I bring my legs closer to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I lay my head on my knees. I sigh, deeply, turning my head away from him in shame.
“Thanks for helping me clean up my face.” I mumble into my arms. He looks at me, a little shocked that I thanked him. “Yeah, yeah… of course.” We both go quiet for a few minutes, listening to the city noise, staring into the bright lights and stars.
“He told me to come get you,” Peter stutters. “He knew you wouldn’t want to talk to him yet.”
“And what makes him think I’d want to talk to you?” I ask, still upset. “He said that he knew about all the times I was over when I wasn’t supposed to be. Going to your room, my homecoming proposal, all of it. He just never said anything because…” Peter stops, hesitating to say what’s coming to his mind.
“Because?” I move my legs, putting my hands down and onto the pavement to relax as I turn straight forward, neither of us making eye contact still. “He trusts me… with you. He doesn’t think I’m ill-intended or have a secret motive. Mr. Stark thinks that I view you differently than other guys do.”
I turn and look at him, his face still refusing to make eye contact with me. “And how do you view me?” I ask. “What makes me so different?” He takes a deep breath and exhales, trying to release his nerves whatever way he can.
He coughs a bit, “I just… think of you as you. You aren’t someone’s daughter, a nepo baby, a student, a fashion lover, or any of those things. You’re just you, and..”. He shifts his body weight, turning to look at me and scoot a bit closer.
“I like knowing you, I like… you. How you try to always be cool and stoic but you’d open any door to let me in. The way that your voice goes up a few pitches when you’re excited. I just like the you that I know and get to learn about every day. You are so complex, more than how you act, and I want to learn about it.” I move a little closer to him, my hands still on the concrete. He gently places his hand on top of mine.
“You are more than what everyone thinks of you to be and I see that but you also see me. You don’t treat me as if I am Peter or as if I’m Spiderman, you just see me.” He leans in closer to me, close enough to smell the remnants of alcohol on my lips. I lean in, crossing my other arm over to steady myself as I move my face towards his. He backs away for a second, looking deeply into my eyes.
“I’m in love with you,” he says.
“I know,” I respond, moving in quickly and falling into him.
The kiss is light at first touch, trying to remember how they met the last time; the feel of our lips onto one another, the burning in our chests from nerves. He brings up his other hand to cup my face as we pull away, looking into each others' eyes before we sink back in.
every fandom has to have one character head cannoned to have a crush on megan thee stallion in the same way every fanfic’s party host is jackson wang
CUSTOMER AT WORK MET JACKSON WANG AT A JACKSON WANG PARTY WHAT