Can You Draw Lamp? Just... A Little Fluffy Lamp Please? I Love You Already💗

"I'm a romantic, I know all the pick-up lines. Every single one." with Logince please!

i hereby decree that any prompt fills requesting logince will be set in the logince fbi!au and there is NOTHING YOU FUCKERS CAN DO ABOUT IT

pairings: romantic logince ( @fandersfic-logince ), platonic prinxiety

“i’m a romantic, i know all the pickup lines. every single one.” (tw: v brief kidnapping mention)

“you know, you’re never gonna win him over like that,” virgil says. 

roman flings himself onto the couch, groaning loudly, a long, drawn-out sigh. virgil pulls open a drawer with a small red crown painted on it, pulls out a red rubber ball, and hurls it at him. he doesn’t even turn to look. 

he hits roman square in the forehead. 

“virgil, why must you abuse me so!” 

“because you come in here every single day and tell me about your grand romantic plans to woo my baby brother, that’s why. how many shitty pickup lines do you even have, roman?” 

“what can i say?” roman laughs. “i’m a romantic. i know all the pickup lines. every. single. one.” 

virgil rolls his eyes. “you know, if this were olden times i could challenge you to a duel for the right to his hand.” 

“you still could,” roman teases, wiggling his eyebrows. “i’d win.” 

“i’m a faster draw,” virgil says.

“yeah, but i’m a better shot.” 

“who said i was talking about guns?” virgil spins his chair in a complete circle, flinging his hand forward as he faces roman. he faces the computer, grinning, as roman gapes at the small throwing knife embedded in the wall. 

“you’ve picked up some new skills, i see.” 

virgil shrugs. “i’m not interested in hanging out in any more locked car trunks, ro.” 

he hears roman approach him, footfalls deliberately loud so that he knows he’s coming. he feels roman carefully touch his shoulders before leaning down and wrapping him in a hug. 

“you’re a good brother, virgil.” 

“and you’re a good boyfriend, roman.” virgil tilts his head back, lets his head rest on roman’s shoulder. “my baby brother’s lucky to have you.” 

roman squeezes tightly, and virgil takes one hand off the keyboard to press over roman’s. then he prints the suspect list roman’s here for and hands it to him. 

roman swans into the briefing room and drops the suspect list into thomas’s hands before throwing a stunning smile at logan. “are you an astronaut?” 

“no, i am an fbi agent -”

“because damn, you are out of this world!” 

logan blinks at roman, adorable in his confusion, and says, “but i’m not an astronaut, roman. i’m an fbi agent that you work with. is this new information to you?” 

roman sits down and buries his head in his arms, groaning loudly. of course, he just had to develop a maddening crush on the single most oblivious human on the planet. he’s a fool for thinking it can go somewhere. 

years later, roman wakes up in the middle of the night. there’s a warm body curled against his side, tucked underneath his arm, hair tickling roman’s nose, cold toes pressed against roman’s warm inner calf. his fiancé snores softly in his arms, mumbling a long, slurred string of something roman thinks might be latin. 

“i can’t believe how lucky i am,” roman whispers, pressing a single chaste kiss against logan’s hair. “i know every pickup line in the book, and none of them worked, and i still managed to land the most wonderful man in the entire world. and i love you.” 

“l’v you t’,” logan mumbles, immediately followed by more meaningless latin gibberish. 

“te amo, mi amor,” roman says sleepily, pulling logan a little closer as he falls asleep again.

(soft domestic fbi!logince gives me life and so does roman and virgil’s friendship) 

@conversationswithamillenial@raygelkitty@justanotherpurplebutterfly@frigglishsprite413@thenewaccountofadeafgirl@queva8@pllandcompany

ive seen Cat!Virgil around and that’s all good and dandy, but i raise you, Cat!Logan  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Keep reading

types of people

honey: lipstick, a sweet voice, confident laughter, handwritten notes, tries their best, loves fashion and dogs, bright eyes like the sun, new cities, good grades

woodsmoke: tired souls, ticket stubs and street maps from places they’ve visited, bodies full of untold stories, missing the train, coffee, gentle words 

wisteria: dreamy evenings, freshly-baked cinnamon rolls, sipping tea, writing in a diary, thick, worn-out jumpers, handfuls of flowers, falling in love, book piles

saltwater: dark, tousled hair, ripped jeans, paintbrushes, lofty grins, swallowing hard, a little broken, trying desperately to be a good person

ink: soft aching hands buried in messy hair, tragic smiles, scribbling on dusty parchment, ancient ruins, attic windows, stars, cups of tea gone cold

thunderstorms: leather jackets, eyeliner wings, sharpening their smiles, lace-up boots, vinyl records, wikipedia articles, tangled earphones, cigarette afternoons

Logan is a cruel sort of beautiful. Captivating. Gorgeous. Talkative. Intelligent. He smooths his collar too many times to be considered appropriate. He laughs at jokes you know he doesn’t understand. He makes jokes and the room goes quiet but you laugh so maybe his smile will come back on.

Logan’s gorgeous when he smiles. His eyes shine and the corners of his mouth upturn into something smug, something secretive, and something cocky and delicious. You wonder, late at night, holding onto your pillows, how his smile would feel against your lips if you were to make him laugh mid-kiss.

But Logan is a cruel sort of beautiful in that he’s in another galaxy. He’s another dimension of colour- one with darker palletes, softer voices, quiet typing, and words you cannot begin to comprehend. He’s complex reasoning that goes over your head, 9-5s, and staying home to grade papers. 

God, you wish that wasn’t so alluring. The crackle of a fireplace and gentleness of podcasts floating through his parent’s living room as he taps on a keyboard, eyes fluttering closed with a sleepiness so soft and lovely, you want to bottle it up and gift it to him every Christmas. 

Logan’s the play-it-safe-but-not-unreasonably-so kind of guy. You’re the rush-into-danger-with-your-eyes-closed-and-hands-tied kind of guy. These worlds do not collide. They are separate divine forces of nature that cannot work together. 

Then it’s five in the morning, you’re awake, staring at the fireplace. Holding coffee in your hands, bringing it up to your lips to take a sip. The room’s gone cold. Logan’s laptop sits across from you, cast aside by its owner for the sake of sleep. Logan himself sleeps soundly, smushed into a pillow, glasses on the floor. 

He mumbles something in his sleep about caramel and oxymorons. Then he awakes all at once and asks what you’re doing. You tell him you cannot sleep. He grumbles something and sets aside his glasses. Then, he lays on your lap like a pillow and tells you to rest. 

Throwing your head back against the back of the couch, you curse out the universe for dropping diamonds into your lap and then telling you that you will never be worthy to touch them.

-Christmas Vacation. 

For some reason I’m kinda craving logince art recently… There just really?? isn’t??? enough of it???

Commission for @tomasyri , Trerbros, Boyf Riends, and their character, Toma! Thank you so much for commissioning me!!!

(Please don’t use any of these unless you’ve been given permission to by the commissioner!)

I just wanted to share this with you.

I have this au where Roman is a dragon.

He’s this dragon that attacks this neighboring kingdom because they’ve been ‘attacking his kingdom’(meaning he’s pretty much just claimed this land as his and gets upset when people are like, hey that’s not yours’)

Basically though, he sees Logan, the king of said kingdom and just like grabs him “Your mine.” because Logan is pretty and Roman’s like oh heck I'mma marry that despite the fact Logan keeps sassing him and saying no to the vows but like, they’ll work on that.

Just like, yoink! This is mine now bye

- a very tired Miranda.

Logan: I hate you with every inch of my being.

Roman: [looks down at Logan] That’s not a lot of inches.

Logan: [tackles him down]