#for the fruit pun

[badolmen]

WARNING 18+

19

[ilikeicecoffee-blog]

Marberry🍓 and Peach²🍑

This idea came to me when I was talking to my bestie @akiiame-blog about a drawing she's working on! I said how a color combo she used seemed like the perfect name for it would be Strawberry Peaches🤭🍓🍑 annnndd then this idea happened🤭

[bearotonin-international]

Amu is beary happy to be surrounded by so much 🍉🇵🇸🍉

[ihni]

Harringrove for Palestine-doodle for @romeren, whom I can't seem to tag properly for some reason. Anyway, they wanted (and came up with the) fruit puns, so - enjoy our fruity boys!

[cityelf]

...seafruit. :3 🍌🍓🍎🍇🍊

[stellamancer]

cher(ease)  (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: i want to preface this by saying: yes, i know i posted a fic yesterday too. no, i am not actually that prolific. this was written for the willow house Meet Fruit collab. actually, i wrote it right after @willowser​ suggested it, but i waited to post it because I was actually a little unhappy with it when I was done writing it initially and i figured some time away from it might help. it did. a little. i think. now i’m not sure any more.. 

contains:  gender neutral reader, typical satoru gojo antics, some small manner of sexual tension

wc: 1.4k

You love cherries. 

They are, without a doubt, your favorite fruit; tart, sweet and easy to eat with their stems serving as a cute little handle. It does suck having to deal with eating around the pits, but your beloved cherries are worth the inconvenience. It’s truly, truly a shame that they’re only really available in the summer, but that just means you need to eat your fill when they’re in season.

Which is why, when you stumble across a display of them at the market, rows of cartons filled to the brim with bright, plump, juicy red cherries, you end up buying a carton or three without a second thought.

In retrospect, it might have been better to show some restraint. Maybe you had hungry eyes, or were just a touch too excited, or maybe it was even the fact that you’d spent an unspeakable amount of money on just cherries. Regardless, in order to attempt to absolve yourself of some of the buyer’s regret that’s clearly haunting you after splurging on fruit you benevolently decide to share them with the students and your fellow staff members at Jujutsu High. 

Or at least, that had been your intent. 

“Oh hey,” Satoru Gojo greets you casually as you walk into the staff room, his feet propped up on the table so he can lean his chair back as far as possible. In one of his hands is a cherry, one of your cherries, hanging delicately from its stem. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing?” you ask him reflexively, ignoring his question outright as a surge of annoyance courses through your veins. There’s a part of you that feels weird about suddenly feeling possessive over the cherries. You brought them to share with everyone and everyone includes Gojo. It shouldn’t be a big deal that he's gone ahead and helped himself to some without asking, and yet you still find yourself feeling agitated. 

"I was hungry," he replies nonchalantly, popping the cherry in his mouth. 

"And you thought it would be okay to snack on my cherries?" 

Gojo shifts forward in his chair and offers you an easy-going smile that only makes you scowl more. “There were so many in the fridge I’d thought you’d brought them to share.”

Your instinct is to argue, to be obtusely contrarian with him, but the fact of the matter is that he’s right, so you keep your mouth shut. Instead, you sit yourself down and stare at the half full carton of cherries on the table. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Gojo wiggling around, not-so-subtly vying for your attention like an overly excitable child. You ignore him and instead choose to think of the rising cost of produce. It was truly an ungodly amount you spent on those cherries and you know for sure that a year ago the same amount of them would have cost marginally less. When you thought about sharing them with the students, the blow to your wallet seemed bearable, their smiles worth the cost and more. But rather than your students' darling faces all you can see is the image of Gojo’s face, his cheeks stuffed with cherries like he’s a squirrel feasting on nuts. It’s annoying. Maybe you can get him to pony up and pay you back for a portion of what he’s eaten. Surely the heir to the Gojo clan can pay for some of the cherries he’s gobbled up. 

“Hey…” He’s whining loudly now, any attempts at being subtle abandoned. You consider ignoring him more, but think better of it and look in his direction. Unsurprisingly, he’s pouting, his perfectly moisturized lips puckering out, and you’re glad that his blindfold detracts from what is otherwise a disgustingly handsome face. “Why the long face?”

He’s mocking you. He’s totally mocking you. Not that you’d expect anything different from him. Rather than grace him with an actual answer, you shoot him a pointed look. There’s no goddamn way that he doesn’t know. But still, Gojo plays his favorite role and tilts his head innocently. When you don’t say anything more he exclaims, “Oh! I know! You must be hungry.”

Again, he’s not wrong, but this time he’s not exactly right either.

He grabs another cherry, this time holding it up in your direction. He grins as he propels it toward your mouth. “Here. Say ‘ah~’”

“Gojo, you are not feeding me.”

He ignores you, insistently pressing the cherry to your lips as he speaks, his voice an octave lower, "They taste really good, you know." 

The sexy drop of his voice is nothing short of deliberate— a tried and true tactic of his meant to get under your skin. You glare at him, your agitation clear as day. He is, as expected, completely unfettered, the cherry still flush against your lips. 

Your options at this point are to: wait until he gets bored and drops the cherry, possibly onto the floor— wasting it or shamefully accept it and endure him gloating about it for the rest of the day. As much as you’d love to waste Gojo’s time and sit at the table in a silent stalemate, you have other things to do. Important things.

So you open your mouth wide, wider than necessary, and use your teeth to rip the cherry from Gojo’s grasp in the most unattractive way possible. 

“Yay!” he cheers, choosing to focus on seeing just what he wants to see instead acknowledging that you obviously don’t want his offering. You consider, for one wild second, spitting it back in his face. However, you don’t and just drop the cherry into your open palm. Now what? Do you eat the cherry or just toss it? Frankly, it feels like a lose-lose situation either way, so you might as well go with the option that gives Gojo less satisfaction: you toss it into the trash can. 

“Aw…” His lips jut out to form an excessive pout.

“I already told you: you are not feeding me.”

“You’re no fun."

“I’m plenty of fun,” you dead pan at him, scowling. “I’m just not your plaything.”

“Meaning you won’t feed me either?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Not even if I say please?” 

“Nope.”

“Hmph.” He’s being overly dramatic and you both know it. “Guess I will enjoy the cherries all on my own, then.”

His voice drops again. The second time makes your body feel a little bit weird, but you remain largely immune to his antics, electing to grab another cherry to eat over paying him any mind. 

But Gojo reaches for the cherries right when you do, obviously and intentionally going for the same one you are, and your fingers brush against one another. You scowl and rather than play some weird version of finger footsie, you go for a different cherry.

Annoyed, you shoot him another glare, or at least, you intend to, but he’s pulled his dumb blindfold down and that’s a tell-tale sign that he’s up to no good. You can already feel your blood pressure rising. Dealing with him like this is even more of a pain than usual.

He holds your gaze, his eyes clear as the summer sky, glimmering, as he presses the cherry to his mouth every so gently, as if he’s kissing it. You watch, almost entranced, your mouth suddenly dry. Gojo rolls it over his lips, parting them ever so slightly to press the damn fruit further in, his tongue darting out and—

You force yourself to look away, rolling your eyes as you do. “What the hell are you doing? You look stupid.”

Gojo merely hums, chewing on the cherry. You hope he bites into the pit and dies of cyanide poisoning. 

He tosses a few more cherries into his mouth before he speaks, another seductive drawl, and though you would never admit it, you think your immunity grows weaker every time he uses that damn tone of voice. “Hey.”

“What,” you deadpan, glancing at him.

Gojo grins at you and his lips part just slightly, calling your attention to them again. He reaches up and slowly pulls a cherry stem from his mouth. It’s looped into a little knot and the sight of it throws you back to your middle school days— your classmates giggling quietly to themselves over the implications of things like tongue tied cherry stems and candies unwrapped using one’s tongue alone. 

“So,” he starts, his stupid blue eyes shining with shameless amusement, “have you heard what they say about people who can do this?”

He grins at you, far too pleased with himself for his own damn good. You know the answer he’s looking for. And he should know that hell will freeze over before you give it to him.

“Yeah. They call them idiots for putting the damn cherry stem in their mouths.”

[artsy-owl-nana]

🍒 🫐 Fruity-Fizzy is here to save the day! Get your daily dose of Fruity-Fizzy for free! 🍓 🍑

Hoot Hoot!

[doinkdoinkdonk]

via yummy.nomz on instagram

[britishassistant]

A Fruit of Several Trees

Kristoph Gavin considers many things, once the fugue of rage has died down somewhat.

He is currently being transported to the detention center in the back of a police vehicle. He has been cuffed, but not tightly, as some in the world of law enforcement still recognize that respect paid to him is worth its weight in gold. The attitude of the officer driving the car is more akin to that of a chauffer than a guard.

He is under arrest, pending trial, for the murder of Shadi “Smith”.

He has found himself in this situation thanks to the manipulation of novice Apollo Justice by failed ex-attorney Phoenix Wright.

He never should have allowed this farce to continue to this extent. When Wright asked for representation, he should have insisted that a close friend appealing to Gavin and Co. get not less than Gavin himself, no matter the client’s preferences. Certainly not an impressionable, inexpert, indecisive rookie. Not a young man who could be led by the nose until Wright had enacted this, this mockery of spiteful pettiness.

Kristoph takes a breath.

When the red has receded somewhat from his vision, he considers some other aspects that captured his attention.

He considers the warring guilt and conviction on Justice’s face as Kristoph was led from the courtroom.

He considers the look on Wright’s. That damn smug smirk, as if he were somehow better than Kristoph for getting the court to accept evidence that couldn’t exist. That was—is!—fraudulent.

He considers the way Wright looked at Justice. Conniving, grasping glances, like a dog guarding a piece of meat it wishes to devour alone. Or a castaway who doesn’t want to share the only means of survival.

Wright wants something from the boy, and wants it dearly to boot. Whether it’s merely a patsy who can appear in court in place of the disbarred disgrace, or a more…prurient desire.

Except that does not quite do the situation justice, does it?

Of all the lawyers in Gavin & Co., it was Justice, the newly promoted intern, that Wright asked for. Lacchè and Günstling were the most experienced behind Kristoph himself, although both would throw themselves on the pyre before they ever admitted he was culpable (a fact he planned to take advantage of for his appeal). Ingadozó is talented and easily swayed, though was perhaps too overly cautious for Wright’s goals. But Vichy would gladly have played along with this farce for the chance to oust his employer and rule the roost. Yung was the newest off the bar after Apollo, if all Wright wanted was an inexperienced mouthpiece who’d sing to his tune.

But no. Of all the attorneys Gavin and Co. had to offer, Wright selected the one who’d never even taken a case before and refused all others.

Though it isn’t like Kristoph doesn’t understand the appeal.

Apollo Justice is thorough, hard-working, and earnest.

He is analytical enough that he can pick up on the merest hint of a cue and doesn’t need to be led by the hand to the conclusions it would be best to draw. But he is also eager to please, aware and afraid of his own naïveté, which makes him look to his superior for those cues to begin with.

Terrified of failure. Petrified of abandonment.

He is, in short, as fine a pawn as Kristoph could ever hope for.

But if Wright is determined to use him, then Kristoph must remove him from the board.

It is regrettable, he thinks, that he’s been forced to this point. He has liked working alongside Mr. Justice, molding him into an attorney worthy of Gavin and Co.

He’s even enjoyed their non-work interactions, which is more than he can say for most people.

Morning greetings and evening partings, the occasional shared lunch, a thoughtful if inexpensive card every year for Kristoph’s birthdays, introducing Mr. Justice to some quality alcohol in honor of his twenty-first. Graciously covering for the young man’s hangover the next day, in light of the interesting things he’d told Kristoph about why he’d never partaken of even the weakest substance before he came of age.

Still, while Wright was the one pulling the strings, Justice himself also played a role in forcing Kristoph’s hand. There must be consequences for his actions.

When all is said and done, Apollo Justice only has himself to blame for this.

Kristoph Gavin requests to make a call once he reaches the detention center.

It is a call to an international number, and he is on the line for forty four minutes and thirty six seconds.

Afterwards, he returns to his cell a model detainee, if an unnervingly pleased one.

Phoenix Wright feels like he can finally breathe for the first time in seven years.

His work isn’t done, far from it. While MASON has received the tentative go-aheads and sponsorship from the relevant authorities, there’s still plenty of nitty gritty paperwork to be filed and lower level officials to be convinced that this isn’t out of their purview, not really, in fact it could be a great opportunity for them, whaddya say? Care to take a chance on something new?

Although he needs to take care that “Phoenix Wright the washed up poker player” and “Phoenix Wright the foremost jurist system advocate” don’t get mixed up any more than they already have.

Nick grimaces at the memory of the time he accidentally asked a judge if she would “ante up”. The glare he received was enough to make the arctic feel warm and humid.

So, while he still has some issues to sort through as he gets MASON up and running, he can at least do it without Kristoph Gavin breathing down his neck. Looming large over his and Trucy’s lives. Trying to isolate them and drag them down and waiting for the day either of them was careless enough to let their guard slip—!

Well, look who’s laughing now, Gavin. Look who’s laughing now.

He feels bad for Justice, he does, but Nick hardly even felt the punch in the moment, he was so elated. It was everything he could do not to start singing ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’ right there in the defendant lobby.

Of course, Trucy had to get him a pack of frozen peas later when the pain set in, but even with his cheek bruised and swollen, he couldn’t stop grinning.

He’d had to hold himself back from talking about Justice to her. He needs to confirm a few last things first— he may bluff through a lot in life, but this is something he wants to be 100% certain of before getting his daughter’s hopes up.

Regardless, Apollo Justice is going places. Nick would happily go all in on that bet.

He considers his faint reflection in one of the ministry’s windows.

His old dress shirt is a bit tight around the shoulders, and his feet ache slightly from being encased in socks and too-small dress shoes.

It’s nothing like the old silhouette, sharp shoulders in blue. But it’s business enough that people take him seriously. That they take MASON seriously.

And if he has the knit hat his daughter made him poking out of his shoulderbag, pin dangling…well, everyone has eccentricities.

Nick allows himself a rare smile, made blurry by the glass, before he sets off for his next appointment with a spring in his step.

Things are finally going his way, and nothing can bring him—!

His phone begins beeping out the opening bars of the Steel Samurai theme.

Nick grins at the caller ID, good mood brightening further. “Yello?”

“Wright.”

“Edgeworth!” His delight is tempered by concern at his friend’s tone. “What’s up? Everything good with you?”

“I take it you haven’t heard then.” Edgeworth’s tone is somehow sharper than usual. Urgent. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m at the Ministry of Justice.” Nick says slowly, a sense of dread trickling down his spine. “Why? Edgeworth, what’s wrong?”

“The young attorney who helped bring down Kristoph Gavin has a warrant out for his arrest.”

Phoenix Wright stops dead.

“On what grounds?!” His voice is hoarse with volume.

He’d know if someone tried to take Justice in for assault, they’d have contacted him over pressing charges by now, and Nick hasn’t had to do that since Richard Wellington and his fire extinguisher, so that leaves the disastrous possibility that the kid had turned himself in over the representative evidence which he thought was a forgery, which, okay, kudos for having such an unshakable moral compass, but it’d be tricky for Nick to talk their way out of that one, especially with his current reputation—!

“My contact in Interpol tells me the Kingdom of Khura’in is requesting his immediate extradition.” Edgeworth states, voice steady in the way it only gets when everything’s gone to pot. “On the charges of domestic terrorism and treason.”

Phoenix turns on his heel and runs.

[kinokoshoujoart]

i couldn’t find a video of this version so here’s Rock’s post engagement event if you choose the negative option for my own reference. please enjoy my framerate dropping to hell trying to record anything because of all my mods

[anxiously-going]

Hey what instead of starving Jim for day 12 of whimptober I starved Bones instead?

[sophia-michelle-art]

TAMARIND

MMMMM ... Monkey

[pairingsextraordinaryandrare]

We're Open!

A whole orchard of rare pairs fics, fests, and fun for you to feast on at HP PEAR: Pairings Extraordinary And Rare. We are a Harry Potter-centric blog and discord server for rare pairs!

Come hang out with us on Discord: https://discord.gg/WVSNqPJF

[imaplatypus-art]

Berry cute platypus 🍓

Fruit platypus sticker sheet at US shop: https://ko-fi.com/s/cfe19159ae and international shop imaplatypuscreations.etsy.com/listing/1430281357

[ragnarokhound]

Omg I saw your tags about the "stab of hunger" post and now I must gush to you about the specifics of that. So it is indeed from an ep of Hannibal. Will Graham asks Bedelia "Is Hannibal in love with me?" And because this show is the Most Extra in the most delightful way, instead of saying yes, Bedelia says, "Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment in the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?"

And Bedelia is actually adapting her response from a part of Dante's Divine Comedy (again, Most Extra lol): “He woke her then, and trembling and obedient, she ate that burning heart out of his hand. Weeping, I saw him then depart from me. Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her? Find nourishment in the very sight of her? I think so. But would she see through the bars of his plight, and ache for him?”

OKAY CARRY ON GUSHING OVER

sorry for taking one hundred thousand years to answer this but oh my god am i still delighted by this. thank you for blessing me with this knowledge fjdlksjfsal

Hannibal is such a fucking extra show, I loved having the cast as blorbos-in-law back when it was airing. Is it art? absolutely. is it GOOD art? It's Hannibal Lecter making heart eyes and evil-courting the most sopping wet and pathetic bag of neuroses jumbled together for the express purpose of humanizing Hannibal the Cannibal Lecter lmao so i don't fucking know, you decide. they reference Dante's Divine Comedy apparently so. maybe so 😂

[anonymous-harpy]

Well I cannot resist the angst for the Cooler/Yōji having a kid

It's too tempting

And my nerd ass cannot resist theoretical biology

But don't worry, happy endings because I am not that cruel. I like Happy Endings when it's family fluff like this