#maskedmiracle

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“What d’you thi--I’m a four-foot-eleven American chick, do I look like Hershel Layton?”

Sakra growled in frustration and rubbed her bony hip. “Sorry, sorry, lost it for a sec, there. Whacking your hip on a desk isn’t fun.” After a moment, she leaned back against the desk, hands shoved in her pockets and ankles crossed.

“So, uh, what brings you here?” Probably Layton. But Layton wasn’t here and Randall didn’t know who the hell she was, so it was better to just play it ignorant and not shatter the fourth wall more than it had already.

Narration | accepting

Original Post

Tell me more tell me more | accepting

Fourth wall, meet sledgehammer | accepting

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“Swear to god, Layton, I know I’m a disorganized mess but how the hell do you displace something this important? Ooh, I’m gonna--”

Upon hearing the office door open, the young woman kneeling by Layton’s desk stood and turned towards it.

“Er, the professor isn’t here right now, he’s at a lect--”

Who was that. That wasn’t a normal visitor. No, that was in fact Randall fucking Ascot standing in the doorway.

“Christ--!” Sakra jumped back in surprise, hitting her hip against the desk. “Ow! Dammit!”

Life is interesting sometimes.

You work hard, study well, get married, have children (and sometimes not in that order)... and then, you find yourself trying to keep away the humid cold with a smoking and tiny fire. She was shivering, but at least she was still alive.

“I think the wood is too wet...” She said to the red-haired young man. 

Look at how ADORABLE this sketch is of my OCs Robyn and Jacob. c: 

raises hand c:

Aw, thanks Pookie! ;v;

chitose-the-warrior liked your post“Raise your hand if you actually find me attractive in any way”