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.
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Poetry Book 4
Poetryhello again! another poetry book - number four, to be exact. if you've been here a while, you know the drill: there's no order to this thing, and after 100 poems or writing pieces, there's gonna be a new book. about the cover: it was a Thursday at S...