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kuroppiii

けろけろけろっぴ، 𖧧࣪ — 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙗𝙤𝙭 : 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 ! ✰. . . 𝟴🍙𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡

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The Cultural Impact Of The 2024 Paris Olympic Village Chocolate Muffin (i Want To Try It So Bad)

the cultural impact of the 2024 paris olympic village chocolate muffin (i want to try it so bad)

The Olympic Muffins W/ Atsumu | Wc: 260m.list

the olympic muffins w/ atsumu | wc: 260 m.list

    “you need to eat something other than muff-”

  “no, no, y/n, you don’t understand how amazing these chocolate muffins are,” atsumu sits across from you, chocolate already on his fingers, some smudged on the tip of his nose. 

  you roll your eyes, hands holding a sandwich. everything there is amazing, the different cultures and flavors represented in an array of recipes. and yet all that atsumu seems to be grabbing are the chocolate muffins. he raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for a retort that he would only scoff at. “right, right.. because that is totally healthy for game day,” you take another bite, watching as he does as well.

  “but when else will i get to eat these? besides the swimmer dude keeps taking them all anyway,” atsumu shrugs, not having fully swallowed the large bite of chocolate. 

  it’s beginning to cover his teeth in an odd display, your hand reaching for a napkin to help clean him up. “when you’re done with finishing your event in the olympics.. but also you do have something on your face,” taking the condensation on your water, you wet the napkin and bring it up to his face.

  wiping his nose and sides of his mouth, he gives you a warm smile, “what would i do without you, my sweet, sweet girlfriend here?”

  “well you’d be a mess, that’s for sure,” you laugh, ignoring the odd looks from fellow competitors that sit nearby, setting the napkin back down. because all you can do is keep looking at him, breathing it all in. 

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More Posts from Kuroppiii

5 months ago

omg chat what do we think of the henna i did on me and my friend’s thighs on the beach yesterday :0

Omg Chat What Do We Think Of The Henna I Did On Me And My Friends Thighs On The Beach Yesterday :0
Omg Chat What Do We Think Of The Henna I Did On Me And My Friends Thighs On The Beach Yesterday :0

IM BEACHING TODAY!!!!!


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5 months ago

ok so random but i have this suna hc that i just dk what to do with 😭

but i think he's definitely good with kids. but like the kind of person who gets along with them because he talks to them and treats them as if they're functioning human beings already.

like cut the babytalk, if he's babysitting and say the kid accidently hits themselves with their toy or something, he goes, "nah if i were you i wouldn't let that slide."

or, "want some doritos? never had them before? well i'm about to put you on. this is about to change your life."

doesn't really hold their hand or anything if he's walking with them, just trails behind as he lets them explore on their own

and that he can tie ponytails if needed because he has long-ish hair

he can't resist buying them the ice cream or stuffed toy they want, either

but most of all!!! he'd do that thing where he'd have a little kid in his lap and leans forward while holding on to them so they go upside down for a second. he acts like he's gonna let them fall but of course he's not gonna let go. and the kid is laughing and smiling and isn't even scared bc bro just has that aura where they feel they're safe and he's not gonna let anything bad happen when they're with him. or he'd do the same thing but with the kid picked up in his arms sideways ykwim??!!!


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5 months ago

i don’t think i’ll ever make a tag specifically for my ramblings bc i’m scared to confront how much i just be sayin shit sometimes 🙏🙏


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5 months ago

so glad tumblr is free, this is amazing

with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader

With You, I'm First | Miya Osamu X Reader

in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 

Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 

Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.

He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.


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5 months ago

I CAUGHT A WAVE AND KNEELED ON THE SURFBOARD TWICE!!!! (wiped out trying to stand upright on it tho 😔)

todayyyy was soooo that fanart of msby 4 checking out a bikini babe LMAO

IM BEACHING TODAY!!!!!


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