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Natasha’s technical know-how is under appreciated.

  • hacks into a computer system protected by one of the nation’s top weapons manufactures and double-sealed with a maniac’s master plan to yada yada Tony Stark. (IM2)
  • Returns control to Rhodey in a suit built by Tony Stark and hacked by previously mentioned maniac (IM2)
  • Taps into Tony’s coms??? Somehow?? (IM2)
  • Figures out how to disable the blue beam to space using Loki’s staff???? Somehow??? (Avengers)
  • hacks into a heavily protected ghost Hydra ship in 5 minutes without tripping any alarms (CATWS)
  • activates Arnim freaking Zola’s computer ghost, and (CATWS)
  • Keeps up with Tony’s technical yada yada about Ultron (AOU)
  • Builds and extends the reach of a tiny Morse code communicator using only items she had with her when she was KIDNAPPED (AOU)
  • Knows enough about quantum mechanics to ‘make conversation’ supposedly with extremely knowledgeable people (Endgame)

I would count her flying the jet in Avengers and her masterful driving and motorcycle skills but vehicle mastery is a whole other post


A Fanfiction Reader/Author Who Is Sick Of Seeing Natasha Having To Ask Tony For Help With Pranks Or Whatever. My Girl Can Hack HIS Ass

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Tony stares at the mirror – not at the shining arc reactor in his chest that radiates a soft blue light, not the darkened veins around it, but the little number on the screen; 89.

The palladium concentration is at 89%.

And it suddenly dawns on him that his days are numbered. These might be his last 24 hours.

This is it.

Tony is going to die.

(But there was so much stuff he still wanted to do. Tell Pepper the truth having the top spot. Kissing her a close second – well, it’s a tie with undoing all the damage he’s caused over the years of selling weapons to the wrong people.)

“Do you know which watch you’d like to wear tonight, Mr. Stark?” a voice says, accompanied by the click-clack of a pair of high heels.

Quickly, he buttons up his shirt. “I’ll give them a look.”

He’s going to die.

“I should cancel the party,” he says, having a sudden epiphany and turning around to Natalie.

She doesn’t miss a beat answering. “Probably.”

“Yeah. ‘cause it’s, uhm-” Because these are his last hours alive and he doesn’t want to spend them with some meaningless strangers.

He can’t say that.

“Ill timed,” Natalie offers.

“Right, sends the wrong message.”

“Inappropriate.” She’s standing too close. Why is she so close? If she’s this close, she might see the poisoned veins peeking out from underneath his shirt.

Tony takes a sip from the martini she pushed in his hand, hoping the alcohol will help him come to peace with his sudden revelation.

It doesn’t.

“Is that dirty enough for you?” Natalie asks, and Tony doesn’t miss the hidden intention behind that question (just like everything she does has a hidden intention, one he couldn’t figure out yet), and if the situation were any different, he might have given into the temptation.

But not tonight.

Not on his last day alive.

“Uh, gold face, brown band. The Jaeger, I’ll give that a look. Bring them over here,” he says instead, sitting down on the chair. Way too fast, Natalie is back, handing him the little case with the watches. “I take that. Why don’t you-”

Before he can finish the question – or indirect order – she already sat down on the arm of the chair, still so very close and watching him with that particular expression that he doesn’t know how to feel about. Flipping her hair back, she just stares at him.

The only thing that’s racing through his mind is: he’s going to die. This is his last night.

He doesn’t want it to be. He’s not ready yet. There’s so much stuff to do, to learn, to invent, to see. This can’t have been all of his life. This can’t be it. There has to be more.

Tony flinches a bit as Natalie is suddenly touching his face, covering the bruises with make-up. Even if she did notice his flinch, she doesn’t comment on it, only continuing to dab the make-up gently onto his beaten face. “I gotta say, it’s hard to get a read on you,” he says to distract himself from his racing heart and depressing thoughts. “Where’re you from?”


Her answer isn’t enough to distract him, and the next words he blurs out are: “Can I ask you a question, hypothetically? Bit odd. If this was your last birthday party you’re ever going to have, how would you celebrate it?”

Oh, god, he’s going to die.

Tony is going to die.

Natalie’s words turn into an incomprehensible blur as a sharp ringing in his ears take over, his way, way too fast heartbeat sounding like war drums, almost mocking him, reminding him that soon, he’ll never hear his heartbeat again.

He’ll never hear anything again.

Because he’ll be dead. Tony is basically nothing but a walking corpse already.

Why does his life have to end just as he was getting on the right track? Just as he rolled up his sleeves and started to work on all the things he destroyed by buildings weapons for decades and being a naïve show-pony, someone Stane could parade around whenever he needed new headlines or a scapegoat? When he just found out what really counts in his life and who is important?

Suddenly, there’s a hand against his cheek, the soft touch from before gone and replaced by a steady hand against his cheek. “Mr. Stark? Can you hear me?”

Who is going to take care of his bots? DUM-E and U won’t understand it if he doesn’t come back. They would trash his entire lab – no, his entire mansion trying to find him. Stairs wouldn’t be a problem, they’re stubborn and so much smarter than Tony gives them credit for, they would find a way. And what about JARVIS? He might understand Tony being dead (seeing that he’s giving him updates on the palladium already and worked through every possible replacement), but what happens to an AI after their inventor dies? Who can keep him busy? Or fix the bugs? Is he going to guard an empty home?

“Mr. Stark?”

He needs to give Happy a raise. A big one. Tony meant to do it so many times, but he always forgot, too busy, distracted by absolutely meaningless things. He should give Happy a raise and a car and a house and a boxing gym and anything else he wants.

“Mr. Stark? Hey. Listen to my voice. You need to breathe.”

Rhodey… He needs to give Rhodey the suit, the one he made especially for him. The suit isn’t perfect yet (Tony is never satisfied with anything but the best for his family), but he needs to give him the access codes before he dies. Rhodey is smart, his brain completely wasted at the military, to be honest, he can finish the suit together with JARVIS. There’s no one better than Rhodey to take over the mantle of Iron Man than him.

Oh, he’s going to miss him so much.


And Pepper. His heart already breaks just thinking about not seeing her again, about not seeing that tiny smile of hers that she always has when she’s trying to stay annoyed and not laugh at his jokes, about not hearing her laughter, about looking at her beautiful face. He regrets so much when it comes to her – most of all, all the things he didn’t do. He never thanked her for taking care of him. He never thanked her for not quitting after a week of the nightmare he put her through.

He never told her what she really means to him. Never told her how important she is.

And now she’s never going to know.


Suddenly, his vision sharpens again, and he sees Natalie’s face just inches away from him. Absentmindedly, he realizes that it’s the first time that weird, guarded expression isn’t on her face. Instead, her eyes jump all over his face, her eyebrows pulled together almost in concern as she tries to reach him.

When she sees that he actually heard her, the concern melts away and makes space for some fierce determination. “You have to breathe, Tony.”

“I can’t,” he wheezes out, recognizing the burning feeling in his chest as his lungs screaming for air.

“Yes, you can. And you will.”

“I’m going to die. Natalie, I’m going-”

“Call me Nat,” she interrupts him, “and you’re not going to die. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not for a very long time.” Tony shakes his head, but Nat isn’t heaving it. “You’re going to live, Tony. You built the arc reactor in a cave, you’re building suits the world has never seen before, you’re one of the smartest humans alive, you are going to survive. And now, you’ll breathe, Tony.”

Like magic, Tony’s body listens to Nat’s command and he gulps in a deep breath.

“Another one,” she orders, her voice leaving no room for questioning, as she slips from the chair, removing her hand from his face and getting more distance between them. “You’re doing great. Keep doing that.”

Even though it couldn’t be a lot more than a few minutes, it feels like an eternity has passed. When the ringing in Tony’s ears finally stops, and the beating of his heart isn’t haunting him anymore, he feels so exhausted and tired and all he wants to do is curl up on the couch in his lab and put on an old movie.

From downstairs, music from the party booms up to them.

Nat kneels at his side, but there’s no trace of the not-really-subtle suggestiveness, only a willingness to jump into action if needed. Tony can’t help but think that he likes this Natalie a lot more than the other one.

There’s this giant elephant in the room, but Tony isn’t brave enough to address it. “So,” he says, clearing his throat, torn between downing that martini and throwing it away, “do you call your bosses by their first name often?”

“Only when I help them through anxiety attacks,” she shoots back, sharp wit instead of flirting. Yeah, he definitely likes her better this way.


“That’s what my friends call me.”

“You have friends?”

“One.” Tony wants to point out that the use of friends as in plural has been wrong, but there’s this expression in her eyes that he shouldn’t dwell on the topic of friends (or friend) too long.

There’s more laughter and excited shouting coming from downstairs.

Right. The big birthday party.

“I should probably head downstairs,” Tony mumbles, getting out of the chair, feeling his aching joints, being reminded of the way how the Iron Man armor weights him down before he gets into the air.

Tony is halfway across the room when Nat speaks up. “When I said the party is ill timed, I wasn’t lying.”

He stops, looking back at Nat who stood up again. All this time, Tony had a very difficult time figuring her out. She seemed too perfect, at least perfect for him – smart, capable, and incredibly attractive. And yet at the same time, there has been something slippery about her. It’s nothing new that his assistances or other employees (or any other human beings) lie to him and tell him exactly what he wants to hear, but she’s different. She lies, yes, but not to get a promotion or five minutes of fame – she plays a different angle. One he can’t figure out.

However, her telling him about her friend and to call her Nat has been so… true. Almost like a crack in a mask.

Tony just wishes he would have enough time to figure out who’s under that mask.

Slowly, Nat gets up and walks over to him, the previous sway of her hips almost entirely gone, flipping her hair back not to flirt but to hold eye contact. “So, what is it going to be? Are you going to cancel or party?”

Because he doesn’t know what to answer, Tony turns around and walks downstairs, the cacophony of the party swallowing him.

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Just saw a gifset on Tony star’s moment in im2, when he speaks French and I had forgotten about that damn it. The accent was so so bad, i honestly didn’t understand a thing he said and had to read the subtitle lmao. I know they hire dialect coach in Hollywood, and yeah it’s only two sentences but it’s so bad wow would have been better to just leave it out. He’s supposed to be a genuis and fluent, not a first year struggle kinda genius

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tony stark is the kind of man who could be dying of heavy metal poisoning and still look as scrumptious as he did in im2

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Iron Man 2 (2010) dir. Jon Favreau

“I’m not saying I’m responsible for this country’s longest run of uninterrupted peace in 35 years! I’m not saying that from the ashes of captivity, never has a Phoenix metaphor been more personified! I’m not saying Uncle Sam can kick back on a lawn chair, sipping on an iced tea, because I haven’t come across anyone man enough to go toe to toe with me on my best day! It’s not about me. It’s not about you, either. It’s about legacy, the legacy left behind for future generations. It’s not about us!”

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