#theforbodingboglands

Commission of @theforbodingboglands‘ characters Mango and Sofy. Absolutely adorable, I loved working on drawing these cuties!!!

(send me made-up fic titles)

just so y’all know i have like a buncha these waiting in my inbox which i’ll hopefully get to over the weekend – aiming to do ten of ‘em (this is #6) unless ideas/time/energy run out first, but try your luck anyway! /cecil palmer voice

in the meantime: more midnight phonefic, bc i could complete a meme without naganos, but then again, why would i

“You’re the one who asked me to come back, weren’t you!” Yui glares for all she’s worth. It’s slightly easier than it was before, what with how Kan-chan’s always leaning forward a little on his crutch nowadays. (She makes a mental note to do some research about that later – surely there’s a more comfortable way to use it, or at least adjust it to his height somehow?)

“To the police, I said.” Kan-chan is entirely unfazed. “Didn’t ask you to specifically apply for my squad, did I?”

Then again, her best glare was learned from him to begin with – the one that wasn’t Morofushi-keibu’s your-existence-has-been-judged-and-found-wanting one, at least. 

Which is the one she deploys now. “I’m not having this conversation with you,” she declares, steamrolling right over him when he opens his mouth to retort, “because we already had it! Six years ago! I refused to switch squads even with all those rumours of favouritism, so what makes you even think that I’d go anywhere else now?”

“Because of this!” Kan-chan retorts just as hotly, rapping his crutch on the ground. “You oughta have a commanding officer who’s able to keep up with you, not be a burden in the field!”

“Like. I. Said.” Yui crosses her arms and leans right up into his space. “What makes you think I’d go anywhere else, Kan-chan?”

(“Should’ve reminded him about the part where he hid in a suit of armour to catch a criminal,” Yui mutters darkly when she recounts it later. “Not to mention a dozen would-be arsonists.”

When was the last time I colored something? Honestly such a bad habit to have things happening that get in the way of me making bday images before the day of and thus dying to make the gift cause that’s all I can do.

*incoherent screams*

pup overload,

@tactician-kilala replied to your video “day out”

THE BEANS ARE NOW BIG BEANS, THEY'RE SO CUTE ;A;

LORG BEANS, READY FOR HUGS

So, in chapter #1003 Shinichi’s caught on tv This...

Honestly, I’m still keeping an open mind on what that single panel could potentially unleash, because Kudo became famous enough to be the detective of the East. There could be a good possibility of someone recognizing him. Don’t forget someone could accidentally mention his name in the case. Don’t underestimate the power of word of mouth either.

All I know is we should pray a lot and @ gosho don’t yOU DARE HURT MY SON pls

What’s more I hate is when people ship people who didn’t even interact, because they are celebrities...

(fic author never have i ever)

patsu,

Conan startled awake from his light doze on the sofa when the door opened.

“I’m home!” a familiar voice called out.

He sat up, rubbing blearily at his eyes. “Welcome home, Ran-neechan!”

There was the shuffle of Ran changing into her house slippers. “The supermarket was having a big sale today, so I bought groceries for the next two weeks. Are you feeling better, Conan-kun?”

“Yeah, even though the cold medicine made me a little drowsy.” More than a little, actually – he’d fallen asleep with his glasses smushed awkwardly against his nose, which he was quickly learning to regret – but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. “You should’ve called me, I could have helped you carry the bags home.”

“Ai-chan texted to say that you’d gone home to rest, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” came Ran’s voice from the kitchen. “Besides, I got you a little surprise, for you to get well again soon!”

“Eh? Really?” Conan asked, looking up from dozens of texts from the DB on his handphone…

…into the pleasantly smiling face of his childhood friend, wielding an extra-large carton of orange juice like one of the bokkens Hattori had taught her to use. 

“You’ve gotten six severe colds in as many months, young man,” said Ran even as he felt the cold chill of doom down his spine, “so you’re going to finish every last drop of this or so help me – ”