As Tony Stark tinkered away, manipulating metal and attaching pieces to his newest Iron Man suit, eighties music blared from a worn and battered boom box in the corner of the room.
The newest recruit, Lullaby Taylor, sat on the other side of Tony's work bench with their personal sketchbook; Tony's workshop was the only place Lullaby wouldn't be pressured into translating texts written in dead languages for SHEILD.
This was their ultimate safe haven.
YOU ARE READING
365
Non-FictionI had this idea last night after a few drinks, a pounding headache, and an excessive amount of throat lozenges. In order to inspire me to write more often than I currently do, I am planning to write a new post every day and publish it, allowing me t...
