#laytonluke

[aurafantastic]

mini bag #profesorlayton #mymerchandise #leve5 #game #laytonluke #originalmerchandise #vintage https://www.instagram.com/p/BYOUb6ulL8j/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1xdde1ug0ki7l

[daisukekaza]

Professor Layton and the Last Romance

Professor Layton and the Last Romance

Hershel sat peacefully at the tea table, his cuppa gently steaming before him as he stared at the gorgeous dawn of the day. His office was piled high with books, many archaeological, some simply books of puzzles, others books of random things that had piqued his interest over the years. The Professor sighed, watching the colors fade from dark to light in a gorgeous spectrum of life. It was amazing, even now, to him how his life had changed so much in the last twenty six years.

Actually, scratch that. The last eight years alone probably covered about ninety percent of the changes. Hershel could remember clearly the day he'd met Luke. The boy had seemed like such a serious child, sullen and focused on the task at hand; but as soon as the danger passed, the cheerfulness that Hershel had soon come to expect had made itself known.

Hershel's right hand drifted down to the object in his lap even as his left propped up his chin from the couch arm. All of the books piled around the room were filled with the aspects of the world that made up Hershel's life, except one. Hershel's right hand gently rubbed the cover of the plain book that had been gifted to him on his last birthday. He hadn't made use of it yet, but he was getting ready to, gathering his courage and his feelings.

A diary. He'd had a journal before, of course, but he used it for his expeditions and the adventures he stumbled into with whomever he was with at the time. This was different. A place to put all of his thoughts and feelings not relating to work, and he wasn't sure how surprised he was that his first thought was Luke. True, there had been the incident with Clive and the "future Layton", but once that had been unraveled, something hidden deep within Hershel's heart relaxed. He hadn't realized it at the time, but as he looked back on the whole thing it was clear that that was the beginning of his current predicament.

That was five years ago. Hershel was forty two, and Luke was eighteen. They had stood side-by-side through so much for eight years now, and even as the guilt over what Hershel had thought was Randall's death had gnawed at his conscience, and even further, Claire's more recent death, Luke had brought light into his dark world. They had then uncovered the truth about Randall together, and a few years later, Claire.

Though he now visited Randall and Angela when he could, Claire's death had come back to the surface with the events in the underground London. With these thoughts brewing in his mind, Hershel opened the diary to the first page and began to write.

He poured all of his past anguishes into his first entry - his silent crush on Randall that may have triggered his dive into archeology and puzzles more than just believing the man had died, his love of Claire, now diminished, but still treasured. Then he turned to the happier outcomes - meeting Luke for the first time, finding out that Randall had survived without his memory and that Henry had preserved all that was Randall's life to wait for his return, finding Claire again - though that was bittersweet. When that was done, he stared down at the pages covered in ink.

It had taken several hours to pour out his soul into those first few pages, but he wasn't done yet. Finally, he began to write of his newer emotions - the feelings that had started as amusement, built into parental love, and finally peaked into what he had today.

A love forbidden between two people in so many ways.

A love between teacher and student.

A love between elder and younger.

A love between two males.

A love that Hershel had been harboring for longer than he could figure.

A love that was soon to be put through more than one challenge as Hershel not only watched Luke and Flora enjoy each other's company, but fought against society's rules and ideals - and most especially, as Hershel fought his own values and images of a True Gentleman.

As he had many times before, Hershel sighed and accepted that though he couldn't change it, his love was doomed from the start.

[ygokhaapl]

Looking for betareaders

Hi,

I'm looking for beta readers for the two stories i'm currently working on:

1.  A Thousand Years- RikuSora or Soriku- “It took a thousand years for me to love him, and it took a thousand years for him to love me.” You meet your soul mate all the time, but you may not end up with him or her. For Sora and Riku, it took a thousand years for them to finally live happily ever after (A set of stories where Sora and Riku meet each other in their past lives, but just fall short of ending up together.

2. Puzzled- Hershel Layton was heartbroken when he thought Randall had died. From failing to find a solution to save his friend, he starts to believe puzzles and archeology are absolutely horrid; thus he stop finding solutions to them. Months pass, and a boy with a blue hat suddenly shows up in the stoic town, Maybe, this boy will change everything by just existing.(AU) (Legal !Luke x Young/College Layton).

The first two chapters of these stories are done, but I desperately need a beta reader, so if you would like to beta my stories message me.

Idea

3. My Reality- one sided VanAqua- Reality versus Fantasy. Fighting her was my reality, but loving her was my fantasy. If I just didn't have to forge with that idiot, maybe I could  have her ( Oneshot )

[captainillogical]

aw man so i'm not following any professor layton or phoenix wright blogs

AND I NEED TO FIX THAT

(so like this so i can follow your blogs yo please and thank you)

[bluefactories]

A pinch of Layton/Luke, just for the road.

(Didn't feel like tweaking this anymore, but I felt like posting my own work. So, here.

Professor Layton: Hershel/Legal!Luke.

Faggotry ensues. Also, filling in my bondage (wrist/ankle restraints) kink bingo box. Not really hardcore at all. Wasn't feeling it.)

Hershel buries his face into Luke's neck, feeling his pulse against his tongue as the younger man twitches and curls beneath his touch.

He's warm and hot and wanting beneath him, and the blindfold is knotted, quite firmly, behind his head. The way Luke rolls his hips is enough though, forcing him to drag along Layton's abdomen in a way that makes his heart jolt and the Professor’s fingernails catch and pull against his chest.

"You should be glad," he murmurs, "that I'm not taking this to a higher authority."

His voice feels molten against his skin and his breath puffs softly along the trail of saliva that was left against his collar and neck. Luke can feel the perfectly lined teeth pressing gently against his shoulder before withdrawing again to speak. His hips jerk forward again, stuttering in a way that doesn't evoke the reaction that he wants.

"I am glad," he breathed, all too aware of the way the knot holds his wrists above his head, of where it pulls and goes lax if he allows it to. It catches right on the curve of his hand and thumb and, if he wiggled, he could probably loosen it.

But he doesn't really want to do that, now does he?

Layton is taking his time again, drawing patterns with his tongue along his collarbone, and the pleasure is in the waiting. It's in how slowly he goes, in where he decides to lap and grind and rub, in waiting for Luke to become impatient and frustrated. Occasionally, two fingers slip down to trace along his chest, to slip close to one budded nipple before pulling away. He takes direct pleasure in hearing his breath hitch and even more in the words that he knows that Luke is purposely holding back. He can feel the 'more's and 'need's against his ear, tangling in his hair, but they dissolve with every gentle tweak and scrape of Hershel's fingernails.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" he asked. His voice was soft against a single neglected nipple and his lips and tongue skirted around the bud before retreating to kiss along his ribs.

The pleasure is in not knowing, in hiding it for later, in the surprise and the anticipation, so Luke doesn't answer.

"Would you like to guess?"

Luke's lips are still, but his erection is twitching between his legs. He pushes up a fraction of an inch, then lowers himself down to the bed. His thighs spread, but his ankles stay fixed to the bar between his legs.

His lips form a simple 'no', but Hershel's teeth are snug around that same bud, cutting gently against the sensitive skin. "You'll bite me," he murmurs, and Hershel obliges, putting the slightest amount of pressure on him to force out a groan and another long roll of his hips. "And you’ll pin me down..."

Hershel's fingers rubbed firmly over him, along his sides and down to his hips to trace the bones. He's tight against the bed now, unable to wrench up and beg for more without using his voice. The hotel's sheets feel rough and cheap underneath him, but he decides that he doesn't mind much as Hershel slowly latches onto the bud with his teeth and lulls him into spasms beneath him, tipsy off of his own building need and the unavoidable desire for more. "One thing at a time, my boy..."