natashka-romanov-blog

[natashka-romanov-blog]

OOC:

so i'm really shy. 

obvi. and i get nervous.

forgive me?  

[natashka-romanov-blog]

[natashka-romanov-blog]

"contractedkiller started following you"

Natasha took light steps, the chill of the night seeping through her jacket and causing her skin to tingle. The street beneath her feet was damp and cold. Winter was not her favorite place to be in New York City, in fact, she couldn't remember any time she enjoyed being in this part of NYC. The sidewalks were littered with trash, old newspapers, and junkies too strung out to make it to an alleyway. It wasn't the best part of town, that was a fact, but she didn't have any choice. She had a particularly difficult assignment with a rather flighty target to track down. Little did she know, her target was the least of her worries right now. 

Her feet fell softly, but something was off. The hair stood up on the back of her neck when she realized she was being followed. "Nothing new." She whispered to herself, but there was something very, very wrong about this. She shoved that thought to the back of her mind as she rounded a corner down a different street. The second of steps turned as well, keeping her pace. The cold air caused her nerves to be more on edge than usual. Nerves. Nervous? Why in the hell was she nervous? She was trained to take down anyone. She feared nothing. She set her jaw and turned around quickly. She was prepared for anything, anyone. Anyone but him. Her breath caught in her throat, and she remembered the knife on her belt. She stood her ground and tilted her chin up. Her mouth was dry, but she could show no fear. 

"Diell." 

[natashka-romanov-blog]

[natashka-romanov-blog]

For everyone who follows me and expected quality

[natashka-romanov-blog]

OOC:

So I picked up a job, and it's been extremely difficult to find time to be on here. But if you guys bare with me and help me out a bit, we can make this work.  I'm so sorry. D:  I'm back for a little bit. (: You've got me all day. (;

[natashka-romanov-blog]

Reblog if you're okay with NSFW.

[natashka-romanov-blog]

(reblog this if you are a RP-er that doesn't mind people coming in your inbox to RP~)

[natashka-romanov-blog]

280. When it comes to intelligence gathering, you can’t hold grudges. The guy who hit you with a baseball bat yesterday could be an information source today.

[natashka-romanov-blog]

262. When you’ve spent enough time as an operative, recovering from a brush with death isn’t about an appointment with a psychiatrist or a week in Hawaii. It’s about having a purpose, whether it’s something to fight or someone to hunt.

[natashka-romanov-blog]

Send me half a sentence and I will finish it.

[natashka-romanov-blog]

OOC:

i'm sorry i've been gone!!  i got surprised with babysitting, and it's hard to do anything with a 15 month old around. >.< But I'm back! 

[natashka-romanov-blog]

nick fury: hey i just met ya'll

nick fury: and this is crazy

nick fury: but i need y'all egocentric motherfuckers to stop whatever you're doing to join my super secret boy band and avenge the earth because thor's brother is attention-whoring from space.

nick fury: so call me maybe

[natashka-romanov-blog]

Reblog if I can jump into an RP with you via Ask

[natashka-romanov-blog]

"Russian, yes." Natasha almost rolled her eyes. Spicy? Either this guy was trying way too hard, or he really had no idea what he was doing. His forward way of flirting was disgustingly appealing. She had been told that there was a confusing mixture of people here, and she wondered what category Dean fell under. Nothing she couldn't handle, she was sure. She'd seen it all. "What did you get yourself into, anyway? To wind up here with this crowd."  

Far from Home || Natasha + Dean

natashka-romanov started following you

Dean had been leaning back in a chair for a good half hour now, steadily sipping at the beer in his hand. Occasionally someone from the group would pass by, nod at him, and keep moving - no one stopped for long, and Dean preferred it that way. He wasn’t used to making this many introductions. Formality wasn’t his strong suit, as evidenced by his feet being propped up on the table before him. He’d said his hellos to most of the group, anyway, wasn’t that good enough? If people wanted to know him so damn badly, they could come to him, not the other way around.

That mentality made a quick u-turn when his eyes finally lit upon a new face: pale, red hair, perfect proportions, and looked like someone who could kick a fair bit of ass.

Smirking to himself, an eyebrow raised, he got to his feet, taking another swig of beer in the same motion. He approached steadily, with his usual swagger: “Evening, miss. You look a bit different from the rest of the ones around here. You look like you actually know what you’re doing here.” He made it clear, through his backwards way of flirting, that this was supposed to be a compliment. He paused for a second, eyes traveling down and then back up. “The name’s Dean Winchester.”

[natashka-romanov-blog]

lost-in-the-ice started following you.   "James. It's been too long."  

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sharpshooting-archer started following you "Clint! Hey. There you are."