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topweeklyupdate · 6 years

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TØP Weekly Update #57: Thanks, Jay Z (8/9/2018)

Turns out last week was a pretty good one to take off. Very little of major note happened in the Twenty One Pilots sphere while I vacationed in the Canadian wilderness. This week, however... that’s a whole other story.

New music. New music video. New track list. New merch. Let’s get into it.

This Week’s TØPics:

“Levitate” and Trench Track List Leak, and Then...

“Levitate” Video and Trench Track List Released

“Jumpsuit” Drops Off the Hot 100 (But Still Gains At Radio...)

Mark Goes Off

AND MORE

Major News and Announcements:

On Tuesday, the streaming service Tidal briefly posted the third promotional track for Trench before realizing their mistake and taking it down. This still provided the Clique with plenty of time to record and post it in so many places across the Interwebs that Warner Music Group’s copyright bots couldn’t hope to catch up. The likelihood that Tyler and Josh leaked it themselves is honestly pretty low extremely high.

The track, entitled “Levitate”, is the most unmistakable hip-hop track in the band’s discography thus far. Running at a tight 2:20, Tyler delivers some truly impressive bars in what is essentially a single extended verse, constantly mixing up his flow against a slick trap drum beat and the eerie synth that was hinted at in the end of “Jumpsuit” (if the entire album flows from song to song like this... automatic 10/10).

Lyrically, “Levitate” sees Tyler discussing the role of songwriting in his life, a form of expression that allows him to “fire-breathe” and “levitate” beyond his problems. The song is littered with gems (“we are not just graffiti on a passing train”) and jabs against the music industry for trying to rein him in or make him into something he’s not (“this culture is a poacher of overexposure, don’t feed me to the vultures”, “you’re the worst; your structure compensates, but compensation feels a lot like rising up to dominate”). The reference to Tyler getting back “what I once bought back in that slot, I won’t need to replace” is perfect, and I’m still emotional about it.

I do have a few minor quibbles with the song. I think the looped instrumental is a little too minimalistic to justify the length of the outro. “At least they all know what they hear comes from a place” and “you can levitate with just a little help” lack specificity and fall a little flat for me. And I’ve expressed before that I’m not overly interested in songs about the music industry that aren’t directly applicable to most people’s experience (sorry, "Fairly Local” and “Lane Boy”).

All that said, the production and presentation is so slick. Plus, Tyler grounds the song in enough personal experience and relatable struggles that it succeeds in crossing over that gap of fame and success to actually hit home. Lines like “danger in the fabric of this thing I made,” “I thought I could depend on my weekends on the freezing ground,” and “don’t feed me to the vultures, I am a vulture who feeds on pain” show the same vulnerability and self-aware introspection that attracted me to the band in the first place.

“Levitate” wasn’t all we got from the leak. An updated version without the yellow duct tape over the track list was included as the background, revealing the names of the other eleven songs that we’ll hear sometime between now and October 5th. The track list is as follows:

Didn’t think that I’d struggle with a song title more than “Bandito”, but “Pet Cheetah” and “The Hype” are really gonna have to go the extra mile in ways that no other song from the band has before to justify those artistic choices. (That said, “Neon Gravestones” sounds rad as hell.) We’ll save picking apart the meaning for all of these titles for a later date; we’ve still got another two months before the album is out, and I don’t think we’ll be getting any new songs or videos until late September at the earliest, so we’ve got time.

ln the wake of the leak (much like with “Heathens” two years ago), the song and video for “Levitate” were pushed out the following day, two days earlier than originally planned if the date on Tidal is anything to go buy. The third installment in this Trench trilogy features Tyler and Josh performing the track at the Bandito camp while vultures fly around looking cool. At the video’s conclusion, Tyler is snatched away from a campfire by a bishop and dragged without a struggle back to Dema. One Bandito looks frightened by this, but another just ominously states “Welcome to Trench”.

I must confess that this music video didn’t fully do it for me. While the production value remains stellar, the “Car Radio” call-back with shaving Tyler’s head is great, and I love any opportunity to see the boys perform together, “Levitate” as a song is frankly too short and moves at a too breakneck pace to make a truly compelling video out of the song alone. I’m honestly shocked that there wasn’t a longer extended scene attached to the end of the video to provide a stronger narrative conclusion to the pieces laid in the last two videos, especially considering that “Jumpsuit” opened with such a scene. As it is, the video moves by so quickly and shares so many aesthetic qualities with its two predecessors that it didn’t leave much of an impression on me.

There is, however, one (potentially unintentional) aspect of the “Levitate” video that really resonated with me. Tyler enjoying himself while performing and being with people only to be yanked out of the group once the energy dies down a little is a perfect representation of anxiety and depression, which so often sets in without warning in circumstances where one would think are supposed to feel happy and safe. The fact that this story ends on such a down note reads as an honest reflection on the nature of mental illness, even if it is perhaps narratively unsatisfying. Besides, I highly doubt this will be our last exploration of the Trench universe; we’ll just have to see where else Tyler and Josh take us when the album drops.

With the initial wave of promo singles out of the way, the marketing team has moved ahead with the business of actually selling the album. Trench is now available for pre-order on iTunes. The Twenty One Pilots webstore is now full of various bundle packages for pre-order that include t-shirts, hoodies, a dope bandana, a 10′’ vinyl EP with the three promo tracks, CD and cassette versions of the full album and (if you order before the end of the month) a neat little patch, all at pretty reasonable prices.

Other News and Shenanigans:

There isn’t too awful much to report outside of the mountain of major developments (thank God). Andrew Donoho posted some dope behind the scenes pics starring Clifford the Vulture. Josh is still occasionally tweeting and posting pictures of hanging out with Debby, his brother, and other cool people. Tyler is still quiet as ever, and I’m not sure why that shocks people. It bears repeating that he was rarely on social media pre-hiatus, that this is probably going to be a regular thing, and that stepping back from social media is honestly one of the better decisions one can make for your mental health and overall leisure time.

The only really notable thing that I missed during my vacation was Mark clarifying on Twitter that the Trench music videos have all been in chronological order and that he’s been happy to be giving Andrew Donoho creative control over how the videos have developed. With how cryptic things have been surrounding this album’s release, it’s refreshing to have a voice of reason to tell it like it is. Thanks Mark.

Chart Performance:

While the new song has been at the forefront of everyone’s mind, its predecessors have still been putting in work... but perhaps not as much as might have been expected based on the last album cycle’s success.

In spite of the release of the new music video two weeks back, “Nico and the Niners” slipped off the Hot 100 after its first week and has declined in all metrics. This week, “Jumpsuit” also fell off the Hot 100 and has also been steadily sinking in sales and streaming. There are plenty of reasonable explanations for this: the too-heavy-for-Top-40 rock sound, the constant stream of other TØP content drawing focus away from any one song, the lack of promotional appearances from the band itself on TV and radio.

Many hopeful fans have pointed to the performance of “Stressed Out” as a hopeful sign that “Jumpsuit” may mount a future comeback, but I have my doubts about that comparison. 2015 was a very different time for the band- “Stressed Out”, like “Fairly Local” and “Tear In My Heart”, debuted on the Hot 100 because the Clique was as ravenous then as it is now, but the band still had next-to-no mainstream recognition. Those songs thus debuted low and fell off pretty quickly. It wasn’t until months later that the Clique’s grassroots support and the band’s rising esteem within the industry resulted in “Stressed Out” getting picked up at radio and being shared with new audiences, creating a snowball of promotion that launched Twenty One Pilots into the popular consciousness. When “Heathens” was released, the band’s profile was big enough to ensure it debuted at #14 and remained in the Top 40 for months. Compared to that performance, “Jumpsuit” is flopping commercially, no question.

However, there is still a glimmer of hope for the song’s future. While it is falling off pretty hard in most categories, it is still gaining spins at radio. It took #1 on the Rock Airplay chart for this last week. That means that more casual music listeners are hearing it than ever, which could make for another snowball where these listeners go back and search for the song themselves in the weeks to come. We will have to wait and see how the band and Fueled By Ramen decide to market the song and promote the album as it gets closer to its release date.

One thing is for sure: the band is not in any financial trouble. Even if “Jumpsuit” never returns to the Hot 100, even if “Levitate” is rejected by both lovers and haters of hip-hop and fails to chart, even if Trench somehow fails to match the Week 1 chart-topping sales of Blurryface even after the band picked up millions of new fans over the last three years, two things remain true: Blurryface made them more money than any individual will ever reasonably need, and they’ve already sold tens of thousands of tickets for their next tour. The days of worrying about this band are over for the foreseeable future; for now, we can just enjoy the music.

Power to the local dreamer.

|-/

#twenty one pilots #tyler joseph #josh dun #trench #levitate #jumpsuit #nico and the niners #top weekly update

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tonystarktogo · 6 years

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Tiny Tony Overlord Part 7

Betaed by the amazing @folklejend. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Summary: In which Natasha has a plan (and no, getting suspended wasn't part of it), HYDRA is as uncreative and predictable as always, and Tony meets someone who is either completely crazy or very dangerous. Or both.

.Somewhere in New York.

Watching Dead-Eyes cut a tracking device out of his left shoulder without so much as a twitch in his blank expression makes Tony feel sick. It’s for the man’s own good, technically. They can’t be found now, it wouldn’t end well for either of them. But commanding another man to cut himself open—and having said command followed without a moment’s hesitation—is a disturbing experience.

There’s a rush to it too, Tony can’t quite deny that. There lies a heady power in that kind of unquestioning obedience. But it’s a power that corrupts, no, stains your soul, to the point where Tony wants to throw up just to get the crawling sensation out of his system.

Dead-Eyes is in no position to consent to such a measure. He’s in no position to save himself either. Until that changes—and Tony will have to look into that as soon as he finds the time, seriously, something about that blankness is just wrong—Tony will have to make the choices for them both.

Hopefully that will be enough.

Twenty minutes later, after both Dead-Eyes and Tony have been properly stitched up—and in Tony’s case, have their bandages exchanged for clean ones that were most definitely lifted from a convenience store down the street—Tony turns towards his companion with a fake-cheerful smile. “Let’s get those papers and get the hell out of here.”

And that’s exactly what they do.

[continues under the cut]

.On the helicarrier.

Reading through the missing Agent Bianca White’s file leaves Natasha with an uncomfortable sense of déjà-vu. The picture of a fairly attractive woman in her mid-twenties with bleach-blonde hair and hazel eyes looks back at her, a hint of a smile on her lips that makes her look approachable but not eager.

Flipping through the pictures, logs, mission reports, and notes of superiors only intensifies the sinking sensation in Natasha’s gut. White wears little makeup and well-cut clothes, enough to accentuate but not enough to be memorable. Passes tests and exams satisfactorily, but never excels. Finishes her missions successfully, but never above expectations. Shows up at work neither too early nor too late. White appears to be, for all intents and purposes, a perfectly average employee.

Except for how people are rarely that fundamentally average in every aspect of their life. Natasha has seen files like this before, more often than she cares to count. She’s been files like these. It’s the standard profile of any sleeper agent—because nobody gets overlooked like an average agent.

Natasha doesn’t know why it catches her by surprise. SHIELD is a high-ranking government organisation; of course there are moles. No organisation is made of fully devout members. If you find the right hook, almost everyone can be turned. Natasha should know.

“You think it’s a coincidence her entire team ended up dead today?” Barton asks sarcastically, eyes fixed on a picture of a traffic cam that proves White has been leaving the three-mile blackout radius the day Iron Man disappeared.

“There is no such thing as coincidences,” Natasha shoots back.

“Alright, let’s say White is a mole,” Hill states. “Could this woman really kill her entire team without sustaining any injuries serious enough to keep her down until the police arrived? Eleven against one aren’t odds you bet your life on lightly.”

Natasha turns towards Fury’s second, her expression frozen over with the arctic cold of a Russian winter. She still remembers little girls with pretty bows in their hair, thin elbows as sharp as the knives they wielded. “You’d be surprised what some women are capable of,” she states, words heavy with the unsaid, what some children are capable of.

Thankfully, Barton’s pointed interruption keeps her thoughts from walking down a dangerous path they rarely come back from. “We think there were at least two of them,” he explains. “There was a sniper on the rooftop of the gas station across the street. The location was a solid choice; he knew exactly where the STRIKE team would be. Of course, with an inside source, that would have been easy to anticipate—and if White is as good as we suspect, the whole confrontation was over in minutes.

“Of course, that’s all guesswork on our part right now.” Barton shrugs, a small grin on his lips that makes him look like a school boy who knows he’s just gotten away with a prank. “But I’m confident ballistics will support our theory.”

“Not complete guesswork,” Hill disagrees. Her frown has deepened with every word of Barton’s report, and in the shadows of the warm afternoon light, she looks decades older than she really is.

It’s the job, Natasha supposes. The job, and the people who choose it.

“I just got the report from one of the agents who questioned the owner, didn’t think it would be of much importance until now. Apparently, besides two families and a couple of backpacking tourists, he’s only rented out one room—to a man he described as ‘shady’ but refused to explain why.” Hill’s scowl says very clearly what she thinks of that. “He swears the guy was alone but rented a double. The agent checked the room but it was clean. And by clean, I mean completely clean. No sign that anyone ever stayed there.”

Which meant professionals. Unsurprising—you don’t send grunts after an elite strike force if you mean to put them down for real—but always good to have it confirmed.

“Alright.” Hill rubs her temples with a sign. A gesture Natasha recognises as a useless attempt to stave off an oncoming migraine. She sympathises. Sleep deprivation, dead agents, moles, and a mysteriously vanished Iron Man is not a combination anyone enjoys. Especially not Stark once she’s through with him for pulling a fucking disappearance act on her.

But as fast as Hill seems to sink into herself, she pulls herself together again. “Rhyston, Cole, get me everything on White. And I mean everything, not this little press file we’ve got here. If she’s dirty, I want to know it and I want to know it yesterday! Summer, the intel on the STRIKE team! Barton, drop the fucking smirk before I drop you! Fury wants to kill you in person, I wouldn’t let him wait much longer. That goes for you too, Romanov!”

That at least gets rid of Barton’s smirk. Only for it to be replaced by a pout. “Me?” he exclaims dramatically, “what did I do?”

Hill raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Besides running off with Romanov without having been cleared for active duty or been assigned a mission to investigate the slaughter of a STRIKE team?”

Barton waves the clear accusation off like he always does. It’s… comfortable. This banter between them, the easy with which Barton pisses off everyone around him. Ever since Loki—Well. Suffice to say, it’s taken a while for Natasha to see this side of him again. She’s missed it.

Still, even Barton has enough sense not to leave Fury waiting for long.

Right as they’ve reached the door of the conference room, Hill stops them one last time. And by the gleeful smirk on her lips, Natasha knows exactly what she’s going to say.

“By the way,” if possible, the smirk on Hill’s lips widens, “you’re both off active duty until the psych department clears you, what with your emotional investment and all. Don’t forget to hand in your badges and your weapons before you leave. And I mean weapons, not just the guns, Romanov!”

Slamming the door into her face would be immature, so Natasha lets Barton do it for her.

* * * * *

.Very high up in the air.

Flying an airplane with an emotionless killing machine playing your father is an experience alright, Tony concludes forty-five minutes into the flight. How they made it through security, he’ll never know. Well, he knows how he did it, Tony just doesn’t know how Dead-Eyes accomplished the same. One minute he was by Tony’s side, the next he was on the other side of the security lane.

Tony wisely chose not to question it—better than being taken into custody for a freaking metal arm, that’s for sure.

Really, the whole plan hinges on nobody paying them any attention whatsoever, because from what Tony has seen of Dead-Eye’s acting skills, he doubts they could fool a first grader. As it turns out though, his worry is unfounded.

Sure, Dead-Eyes looks like he’s been cut out of an ice block, but he’s still handsome—maybe even more so for it—and that helps a lot. Tony mentally pats himself on the back for having decided the guy needed a shave. Then pats himself literally on the back because he’s a kid, nobody’s gonna care. Except the nice lady next to him, who appears a little frightened by Dead-Eyes—clearly she’s got good instincts—and keeps asking him if everything is alright. But all it takes is a teary-eyed explanation about how his mom just died and how daddy is just sad but trying not to be, and that’s taken care of too.

It also gets him chocolate from the soft-hearted flight assistant. Being a child is awesome.

* * * * *

.Secret Research Facility.

For the first time since the mission to take down Stark went off the rails, the commander is silent. It’s a deadly, all-encompassing silence nobody around him is suicidal enough to break. The agents present are hyper-aware of the fact that someone is about to die. And in his current mood, the commander is unlikely to care about silly particularities like friendly fire.

On the screen, five dots blink steadily as they move further and further away—from their own location and each other. Which, considering four of them are supposed to be in the same body, isn’t very reassuring.

The commander takes a deep breath, causing the minions closest to him to wince in anticipation. But he doesn’t yell. His voice, when he speaks, is low and hoarse. “Get a team to each place but have them prepared for a trap. Recapturing the Asset has utmost priority, do you hear what I’m saying?”

“Yes, sir,” the minions chorus obediently.

“Er-,” under the force of the commander’s glare, the inexperienced minion who’s dared to speak up falls silent immediately.

“What?” the commander snarls.

“I-I was just—wondering about White, sir,” the terrified minion stutters.

The commander blinks, surprised. Then, slowly, a grin spreads over his face. “Dispatch a team for her too. I want her body spread all over whatever hole the useless rat’s trying to hide in.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

* * * * *

.On a small island.

Despite his being a recognised genius, Tony hadn’t actually thought their grand escape plan through. If he had—instead of, say, point at the next flight possible and demand tickets—he might not have chosen the Bahamas.

Amidst all the tourists in their t-shirts and shorts, Dead-Eyes and Tony in their black, long-sleeved clothes stick out like two sore thumbs. Besides, the Bahamas are—well. Objectively speaking, they’re nice, probably. Tony mostly sees sun, a bright blue sky, and sand, which, yay. Not like he hasn’t stared at the same fucking sand for nine eternal years. Granted, the air hurt to breathe and the sky looked a lot less natural. It’s not really the same at all, rationally Tony knows that. Too bad rationality has little to do with it.

It’s the feeling of the light breeze against his skin, the way tiny corns of sand dance in it, the heavy warmth that makes his clothes stick to his skin, how Dead-Eyes lingers by his side, slightly towards the left—because the right is reserved, a place that may not be currently filled but has always been, will always be, taken—it’s familiar, so much so the weight of it settles into his bones, builds up the pressure on each and every one of them.

“The position is not secure,” Dead-Eyes hisses, the first words he’s spoken since they got on the plane.

His warning, though helpful, comes too late. By the time Tony makes out a thin, elderly woman who is watching them with narrowed eyes, they are too close to make a clean getaway without arousing suspicion. Especially considering the airport is really just landing field with one small building next to it.

“We’re gonna have to steal a boat,” Tony thinks hysterically as the woman approaches them with small but determined steps. Her gaze doesn’t waver once, and, frankly, it’s starting to creep him out.

She doesn’t pull a machine gun on them at least, but then Tony might have preferred that. Instead she smiles, slow and easy, like a mother welcoming her son after years of absence. Her teeth are a brilliant white, and when she hugs Tony— hugs him, what the hell?!—she smells of the sea and wet wood and something spicy he can’t identify.

“You have been missed,” the woman says when she finally pulls back. Though she still refuses to let go of his shoulders. “You are missed.”

There’s a gleam in her eyes that reminds Tony of the adoration on the faces of little kids when they got to meet Iron Man, for a time. It’s tempered by shrewdness and wisdom that only comes with experience, but the core, the core remains the same.

“I-“ For once in his life Tony has absolutely no idea what to say. He doesn’t know this woman, doesn’t have any memory of her. Yet he doesn’t remember SHIELD trying to kill him either, does he? And what about that thought is bothering him so much?

“Do not worry, young warrior, I shall keep my silence.” The woman’s smile twists, just a little, an edge of cunning that sharpens her appearance into something beautiful. “Your search shall soon find its end.”

Perfect. Just perfect. Ominous warnings from a strange woman playing oracle. Just what Tony needs to make this bloody mess any more complicated.

“Thank you?” he tries to say, though it comes out more as a question.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare to place a depth on you!” the woman exclaims, startled. “Your sacrifice cannot be repaid nor will it be forgotten. We will ensure as much; it is the least we can do.”

Tony smiles awkwardly, a shallow imitation of what used to be his press smile. Like a jacket he’s grown out of—hasn’t grown into yet. “I appreciate the gesture,” is what he settles on—instead of the What the freaking hell are you talking about? he desperately wants to ask. But he can’t. Not if this strange lady actually knows—no. The thought alone sends shivers of dread down Tony’s spine. It’s not possible. Whoever she is, whatever she is, she can’t know what Tony’s done. It’s impossible. You can’t know a future that never happened.

Can you?

The woman takes one of his small hands between hers. Tony has to give it to her; she’s got a stronger grip than he would have expected. And she’s still looking at him like that. “Don’t worry, you will find the answers you seek on the grounds of the bloodless children,” she says gently, like that’s supposed to calm Tony down.

“O-kay,” he accentuates. Maybe for once this doesn’t mean anything at all. Maybe this woman is just—a nutcase. Or a very talented grifter. If only he could be so lucky. “I’ll just, err, go there then, I guess.”

Tony carefully but decisively detangles himself from the woman’s grip. Screw suspicions, he’s gonna run the second he gets her off him, Dead-Eyes in tow. They’re gonna steal a boat, hide on one of the islands and figure out a new plan, far, far away from this creepy woman and her damn knowing eyes.

Just as he’s finally freed himself and given the woman one last nod of acknowledgement, she reaches out lightening fast and grasps his forearm. “Do not let the darkness destroy you again,” the woman warns, her voice deeper now, and all the more damning for it. “There will be no other chance.”

Tony swallows, caught in the woman’s bottomless gaze. Suddenly he is uncomfortably aware that she hasn’t spared Dead-Eyes a glance, not even once looked into his direction. Has been pointedly ignoring him. You wouldn’t be the first one I killed myself, he remembers, the echo of a man he used to know.

“I won’t,” Tony agrees and wishes he’d know what exactly it is he’s promising.

It seems to be enough to convince the woman at least, because finally she lets him go, and with one last glance towards her, Tony gestures for Dead-Eyes to follow him and high-tails it as far away from the woman as he can manage. With any luck, he’ll be able to lose her in the crowd around the bus stops. Tony doesn’t look back, but he feels the weight of her eyes on him for a long time afterwards.

* * * * *

.New York.

Natasha can tell Barton wants to say something, but he keeps his silence until they’ve exited the rental car and walk towards the entrance of Avengers Tower.

“You’re not as furious about the suspension as I thought you’d be.” He doesn’t turn his head towards her and his lips are barely moving. Both are habits designed to make her feel more comfortable, less put on the spot. It still still strikes her out of nowhere sometimes, the knowledge how well Barton knows her.

Natasha looks straight ahead as she responds, eyes focusing on the guards and hidden cameras Stark has once pointed out to her—and she is sure there are more than she’s aware of; she’s already found four of them. “You know me,” Natasha retorts with a lightness she doesn’t feel. “I know how to keep myself busy. Without driving my teammates insane.”

Barton rolls his eyes at the half-hearted dig.

“Besides,” she continues after only a brief moment of hesitation, “Fury can handle dead agents. I don’t need to get caught up in the bloodshed.”

At that, Barton whistles. “There’s a first for everything.”

It earns him a punch against his upper arm, hard enough to almost make him lose his balance.

“I checked the agents’ reports from the B&B,” Natasha mutters, quieter now. It’s unlikely they have any eyes or ears on them, SHIELD is overworked as it is, but she hasn’t survived as long as she has by taking unnecessary chances. “There’s no way Stark was kept there; they lack the equipment to keep him down. Only way he was in that building is if he’s already dead, and why drag a body across the city?”

“So you’re saying an Avenger gets kidnapped and a STRIKE team is taken out within the same twenty-four hours, and those incidents are entirely unrelated?” Barton doesn’t even try to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

They cross the lobby and enter one of the private elevators before Natasha turns towards him with a scowl. “Of course not. There’s no such thing as coincidences. All I’m saying is Stark wasn’t held there. Now, there might be a connection or there might not be, but we don’t have time to play the guessing game. Whoever has him, we need to find him fast, and chasing a traitor isn’t gonna cut it.”

Barton nods, like they’ve been on the same page all along. Maybe they have. “In other words, let Fury worry about White while we use our newly acquired free time to save Tony’s ass before he has the chance to blow everything up. I like it.”

Natasha snorts. “You just like the thought of getting to blow things up yourself.”

Barton smirks and tellingly makes no move to deny it. But then, she didn’t expect him to.

“Welcome at Avengers’ Tower, Miss Romanov, Agent Barton,” the cool voice of JARVIS interrupts them. He still hasn’t forgiven Natasha for her subterfuge whilst she played Pott’s assistant. “Captain Rogers is expecting you in the common room.”

“Let’s go find our wayward genius!” Barton cheers and takes off as soon as the elevator doors open. “Last one in the common room doesn’t get any laser guns!”

Natasha watches him run off with a blank expression. “One day, I’m going to kill that man.”

I'm honestly in awe of the response I've been getting for this story. Thank you all for reading, commenting and leaving me kudos - you're support helps me continue this project! There was a little less Tony and Bucky in this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed SHIELD's perspective in things - and I promise, the next chapter will have a lot of Tony :)

Also, while a lot of this story is about Tony and Bucky running around, they will have allies, some of whom will soon-ish (within the next 10 chapters) join the regular chast. Now some roles have already been cast, but there are still slots I haven't filled, and I'd like to hear your opinion on them :)

Who would you like to see as one of Tony's (possibly reluctant) allies? -Brock Rumlow -Wanda Maximoff -Pietro Maximoff -Loki -Tiberius Stone -Someone else (tell me in a comment!)

Alright, that's enough babbling from me for now. I hope you liked this chapter, and feel free to leave your thoughts and feedback as a comment or in my ask box! Thank you for being awesome readers :)

#Tiny Tony Overlord #ReRe writes #fic #Marvel #MCU #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #Natasha Romanov #clint barton #nick fury #Maria Hill #tiny Tony #deaged Tony #winter soldier bucky #Tony is on the run #SHIELD has a theory #Bix the HYDRA goon #HYDRA makes their next move #Tony has way too much fun playing a child

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