A Wolf's Playground

the day after actual tony stark saw them hanging out in frony of the Tower, some of the kids were reluctant to go back there but God they had to finish their homework and the tower was on their way from school so they go back there and

theres a separate room that surely mustve been some important part of the lobby yesterday but now had a “Free WiFi Zone” plate on the door. Inside were huge sofas and armchairs and beanbags, fridges stocked with various drinks, a coffee maker and 20ish iron man mugs, a couple of laptops on the desk near the wall and a note for them to read:

It started with Wi-fi. Wi-fi of all things. Tony found out by accident.

“What’s going on out here?” Tony asked, sliding his sunglasses down a bit to look at the group of teenagers sitting in front of the Tower.

All the teens looked up at once, eyes wide like deer caught in headlights. They looked at each other, then back at Tony.

“Um, well…” A brunet spoke up, closing his laptop. “The Avengers Tower has great Wi-fi, sir. And it’s free. We all… some of us don’t have access to Wi-fi at home, and we need it for school projects.”

Tony blinked. “Oh. Okay. Study hard, then.” He adjusted his sunglasses again and walked into the Tower without a second thought.

But later that day, Tony keeps thinking about it. Can’t get it out of his head, until he goes so far to have FRIDAY pull up security camera footage from in front of the Tower over the past few weeks.

There are kids there, always, Tony finds. Anywhere from ten to nearly fifty, all crowded around the Tower, sitting on the grass. Even at night or in shitty weather, there were at least a few.

And sure, Tony was fine with it. More than fine with it, even. If kids wanted to use Tony’s Wi-fi, he on board with it. Tony was completely with the idea of accessible technology.

So it hung out in the back of Tony’s mind, and he smiled at the group of the teens he saw every time he walked in and it the Tower. He made sure security didn’t bother them, and left them to their devices.

But the thoughts of it wouldn’t leave Tony’s brain. A part of him ached a little at the idea of the kids who were so needing of a damned Wi-fi connection they would sit in the rain for it. It got to the point that Tony was lying awake in bed, thinking about it.

“FRIDAY, are there any vacant floors in the Tower?” Tony asked, staring at the ceiling.

“There are three vacant floors,” FRIDAY answered in a chipper voice.

Tony sat up. “FRIDAY, order a shit ton of junk food and furniture. We have work to do.”

And so it began. Within a week, Tony had a large room on its own floor completely dedicated to being an expansive lounge. It had all sorts of furniture, shelves stocked with every food Tony could think of, a fridge full of drinks, an espresso machine, and over a dozen outlets. It was close to the bottom floor, easily accessible by the elevator. Tony talked to Happy and reorganized his entire security so that anyone could walk into the Tower and go straight to the lounge.

The first day, there were already over twenty teens milling around, laptops plugged in and noses in books. It made Tony smile and feel warm in ways he couldn’t describe, seeing the tranquil environment of kids studying. The numbers grew over time, and Tony made sure it was kept accessible 24/7.

So it started with Wi-fi. But after that, things got more… complicated.

Tony was in the lounge, taking an inventory of what needed to be restocked. Sure, he had people for that, but it was nice to show his face every so often, remind the kids he existed.

Tony finished writing down how many bags of Doritos were on the shelf and spun around, crashing right into someone.

“Oh fuck,” Tony stumbled, catching the person by their elbows. A pair of startled green eyes stared up at him in horror. “Hey. Hi.” Tony smiled. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t looking where I was going. My fault.”

The girl stared at him, breathing hard. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Hey, no. My fault, remember?” Tony soothed. “I’m responsible for at least fifty per cent of the accidents in this Tower.”

“Actually, you’re responsible for sixty-seven point nine per cent.” FRIDAY chirped.

Tony frowned. “Is that counting the incident on Thursday?”

“You did hold fifty per cent of the blame.” FRIDAY reminded him.

“Twelve per cent, at most,” Tony argued. He looked back at the girl. “Thor tried to put a raw egg in the toaster, it’s a long story.”

The girl gave a confused, shy smile. Tony counted that as some kind of victory.

Tony went to let go of the girl’s elbows when his gaze brushed over her forearm. “Hey.” Tony’s voice was softer. “Are you okay?”

The girl froze again, biting her lip. “No- it’s fine, I don’t-” Her face turned red. But not as red as the angry lines cut into her wrist.

“You wanna talk?” Tony asked, eyebrows knit together.

“You-you’re busy I shouldn’t-”

“FRIDAY, cancel the afternoon meeting. Or tell them I’m not coming,” Tony said without hesitation. “There, I’m free.”

The girl frowned. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s fine, really.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Come on, kid. Let’s talk, okay?” He sighed at her hesitance. “Hey, what’s the worst I can do? I’m just some rich guy.”

With a begrudging smile, the girl took Tony’s hand and Tony lead them to an empty storage room, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall.

“What’s your name?” Tony asked.

“Cecilia,” The girl mumbled.

“Hi, I’m Tony.” Tony introduced with a bright smile. Cecilia laughed. “So you wanna talk about this?” He pointed to her wrist.

“I…” Cecilia cleared her throat. “It’s hard, you know? School is hard, and I’m not good enough to do anything right, and…” She swallowed. Cecilia covered her face, choking on a sob.

Tony scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You wanna know something, kid?”

Cecilia looked up.

“I am one of the richest men alive, have been named Sexiest Man Alive three times, have my last name attached to a fortune five hundred company, have been called one of the leading minds of the 21st century, am a member of the goddamned Avengers and…” Tony ran a hand through his hair. “And I feel the same way. All the time. I wake up worried that someday everyone’s gonna see through me, see the fraud I really am.” Tony cleared his throat. “I have anxiety attacks. I wake up screaming from nightmares. I avoid mirrors. And some days I don’t want to wake up at all.

"But I do. Because there are people who need me to. And maybe it’s more for me than you. But it’s not about numbers. Quantity holds no value the quality. As long as there’s one person who cares, you’ve got a reason to wake up in the morning.” Tony thought a moment. “And if you’ve got no one else, then I count, right?”

There was a long stretch of awkward silence, but the shy smile Tony got made it all worth it.

After that, Tony invested in having free, confidential, no strings attached therapists at the Tower for the kids who came to study. He started with five, but by the end of the month, Tony had seven full time and three part-time working at the Tower. Tony did briefly see Cecilia’s face every now and then, and she seemed happier. That made it all worth it.

After that, everything was a downward spiral. Someone put a suggestion box on the door, and the teens who stayed wrote their ideas down. Tony read every single one. Even the stupid ones. And he listened.

First, there were showers installed in the bathrooms. Tony noticed there were certain faces that showed up more than others, so often it was almost concerning. So Tony figured they might as well freshen up while there. The showers were equipped with towels, soap, and all other necessities.

After the showers came the storage room filled with other living supplies. Blankets, food items, clothing, some basic tech, gift cards for local supermarkets, toiletries. Anything Tony could think of required for living. Like everything else, anyone could take anything, no questions asked.

Then came the library. There were suggestions for a supply of the review books and textbooks for the classes students were taking, and Tony decided to go in all or nothing. The library was filled wall to wall with every modern textbook and review book in the curriculum, as well as an expansive amount of leisure reads as well. Tony stocked it with comfortable seating, computers and tablets as well. There were no late fees, Tony refused to make any of the kids pay a damned dime for things they should have basic access to.

And then there were physical doctors as well. Ones who could give flu shots and prescribe at least the most basic of medications and advice.

After that, the gym just seemed to be common sense. As the recommendations in the box pointed out, public gyms were expensive. So Tony set up a gym. Granted it wasn’t Avengers level, but it was a damned nice gym.

Tutors came next. Private tutors, as well as ones that would teach entire groups. Tony managed to wrestle with the local schools to even get the kids credit for some of the tutorings.

After that, things finally seemed to mellow out. Tony drew up a list of rules, but most of the teens were pretty decent about keeping things civil. Tony was damned proud to average only one incident a month.

The Avengers found out about the Student’s Lounge as it’d be dubbed, and they frequented it more than Tony expected. He found Clint down there telling stories that were probably classified, Natasha showing a group of girls ballet moves, Thor showing off trinkets from Asgard, Steve drawing with a group of art kids, Sam giving serious talks on mental health, and so on. It was nice.

And it worked. Kids were happy and studying, but also had a place to relax and unwind. Tony did have to get an ungodly number of permits and licenses to do what he did, but it was all beyond worth it to see the kids smiling and being safe.

It was a year later when Tony was working in his workshop with jeans and a tank top and FRIDAY caught his attention.

“Mr Stark, your presence has been requested in the Student’s Lounge,” FRIDAY said, cutting into the silence.

Tony frowned. “Is it an emergency?”

There was a pause. “No, but the students are rather insistent.”

“Fine.” Tony stood up with a sigh. “Tell them I’ll be down there in a minute.”

Tony took the elevator down to the floor that was now entirely monopolized by the Student’s Lounge. As soon as the doors opened he found himself standing in front of a few dozen teens, all crowded around and waiting.

“Is this some club meeting or a cult initiation?” Tony asked, sliding his grease-covered hands into his pockets.

A teen stepped forward, a blond boy with bright eyes and a nervous smile. “Uh, hi. We… we had something we wanted to share with you.” He was holding note cards, absently tapping them.

Tony glanced around. “Well then, shoot.” He spread his hands.

The blond cleared his throat, looking down at the cards. “We hear the saying a lot,” He read, “that it’s impossible to shop for a man who has everything. And with you, that couldn’t be more true. A genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, and an amazing person all around. You truly have everything, Mister Stark.

“And yet, you give. You give, and you give. You gave us a place to study that became so much more. Beyond the material items, this place has become a home for all of us. For those of us who don’t have food to eat at home, books to read, clothes to wear, a family to come home to. All because you wanted to give some kids a good Wi-fi connection. You created a family. This year alone, the graduation rate grew ten per cent from last year, and we don’t think it’s a coincidence. And we’re all confident with your help, that number will grow more and more.

“You created jobs for the community. We did the math and figured at least fifty new jobs were created through the Student’s Lounge. And you pay for all of it out of pocket. You don’t need to. You’ve already saved the world more than enough times, given millions of dollars to charity. And yet you did this for a group of kids sitting on your front lawn just to get a decent Wi-fi connection.

“There are no words to describe the kindness that takes. The amount of time you’ve put towards this proves it’s so much more than a publicity stunt. Not only do you personally oversee everything, but you stop by weekly, even if just to say hi. You listen to what we have to say. In a world that makes it so easy to ignore teenagers, you put every ounce of effort into doing the complete opposite. And your effort didn’t go unnoticed.” The blond stepped aside and let a redhead girl stand in the middle instead.

“My name is Miranda.” The girl spoke up. “A year ago, I was addicted to heroin and struggling in all of my classes. I was… I was ready to drop out of school altogether, even considered selling my own body just for drug money. But a friend dragged me here and… and I got therapy. A doctor. Food. All things my family struggled to afford. My recovery is still slow going, but thanks to you, I can say I’m in recovery, to begin with. Thank you.” Miranda stepped to the side and a black haired boy took her place.

“I’m Ian. My parents abused me, and I had nowhere to go. Even after coming here to spend my afternoons, I was hesitant to overstay my welcome. But I wasn’t ever judged, and always felt safe here. I was able to work up enough courage to run away and start spending nights here. Eventually, I met a friend here who let me stay with them, but not once did I have to know how it felt to be homeless. This place was my home, the entire time, even now that I sleep somewhere else. You gave me a home. Thank you.”

And so it went on, each kid telling their own version, and Tony wasn’t even ashamed to admit he was openly crying before they even got through ten. And he listened. To every single one. Tried to remember names and important details, make mental notes for future reference. Tony watched and listened, entranced by every story.

The first boy stepped back up. “And I’m Ben. I don’t really have a sob story, but I do know that this place is a home for every single person here. We’re a family of brothers and sisters, and you’re, for lack of better wording, the cool dad. So thank you. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you. So much. We hope our family can grow, and this home will only get better with each day. So while we don’t have any gift, we hope this can stand as one. Our stories are something that you gave us, and we hope by sharing them you can understand how much you mean to all of us.” The boy, Ben, lowered his notecards and smiled. “Thank you.”

Tony stared at them, wiping tears away from his eyes. “You’re all assholes.” He decided. “I am supposed to be a suave billionaire, and here you’ve got me crying like a dumbass.”

The teens all laughed.

“You know what?” Tony clapped his hands together. “This deserves a pizza party. Domino’s is about to hate me. Does anyone have any dietary restrictions? Start writing up a list while I find a phone number.”

“Don’t you have stuff to do?” A brunette girl who Tony remembered to be Cassie asked.

Tony shrugged. “It’s fine, I’ll do it in the morning.”

“Miss Potts has asked for the schematics to be uploaded by midnight,” FRIDAY spoke up.

“Pepper has been working for me long enough to know ‘by midnight’ means by noon the next day. It’s fine.” Tony waved off. “Come on, start writing a list. If I don’t see at least one gluten-free pizza, I’m making you do it again.”

So this happened on my dash. Maybe it’s just me, but I find it really funny

Delirium [imitating Dream's voice]: "When you are not being sCaRy"

HOB GADLING & DREAM OF THE ENDLESS

HOB GADLING & DREAM OF THE ENDLESS

the dream king + looking like he is constantly on the verge of tears (s2v1) [season 1 version]

bonus:

Lucifer: Do you-

Before fic tagging was common, fics weren’t tagged. You had a pairing, if applicable, an author’s note about genre or general content, and if they were feeling charitable, a vague content warning. There are even a few genres of fic where even vaguely tagging literally spoils the plot and impact (such as horror, psyche thriller, in which the likely content is implicit to the genre). As a result, there is a basic category tag that permits this, as a courtesy to “old-fashioned” writers.

“No Archive Warnings Apply” means the fic is PG13 at worst, probably fluff, totally safe.

“Choose Not to Use Archive Warnings” is the polar opposite. It’s a glaring Enter at Your Own Risk billboard. It means: a shitload of warnings apply but I ain’t telling because this story requires shock value. It’s very important to read the author’s notes for those fics because they might be using that older format from above.

graphic depictions of violence

major character death

underage

rape/non-con