I'm a defected Skibidi Toilet that discovered the beautiful world of fanfiction. I am considered 'defected' due to my avoidance of fighting with the rest of my braindead kin to fight the giant camera men. Can't a toilet goon in peace?
Anyway, ya' girl gave itself a name like any other people here so, hey! My name's Latte! (selected it 'coz its my fav drink, i'd love to drink myself.)
I watched other people here connect with more like-minded human beings, and I want that same connection!!! We can be like that image of aliens touching foreheads holding eachother tenderly 'cuz we share the vision OTL !!! Endless possibilities, I say.
RULES
I only do char. X readers
Usually leaning towards more female readers, however, these little short ones I post don't specify any gender.
Since this is a very self-indulgent blog, I do fluffy & suggestive only!
Ask me ANYTHING 🙏 , love me some interactive people and anons!
ANONS: If you'll frequent the bathroom to meet latte the skibidi toilet, consider leaving a mark through emojis to identify yourself in this blog.
im kinda a half-roleplay half serious acc lol, hope you guys don't mind!
FANDOMS IM/WAS IN:
ANIMES:
Naruto
Naruto Shippuden
The Disastrous Life of Saiki K
Blue Lock
Inazuma Eleven
Inazuma Eleven Ares & Orion
Inazuma Eleven Go
Hunter x Hunter
Demon Slayer
Beyblade Burst
GAMES:
Poppy play time
Roblox (Myths and other games in there)
UNDERTALE (and all its aus)
Honkai Star Rail
Mobile Legends: Bang Bang
Genshin Impact
Cookie Run Kingdom
Obey Me!
Twisted Wonderland
Yandere Simulator
Danganronpa
FNAF Franchise
Fear and Hunger
FORSAKEN
Blocktales
Pressure
MISCELLANEOUS:
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
SCP Foundation
Creepypasta
HELPFUL NAVIGATION:
#latte reblogs — reblogs.
#latte writes for ⚡⚽ 11 — inazuma 11 centered fics.
#latte spills — ramblings & answering asks.
inbox open for: INAZUMA ELEVEN , ARES AND ORION INCLUDED.
Hello, can i request with something about kazemaru? Go wild, Latte.
CAKE TEST!
—you decided to do those instagram live streams ft. chat
CHARACTER : Kazemaru Ichirouta
—cake not described so you can pick any cake! but if it helps, i written it with a cookies and cream cake in mind!
—reader is implied to be quite online famous
—tooth-rotting fluff
—890 words. (i dont play about kazemaru, chat.)
---
you go live with the phone propped against a mug because you can’t find the stand.
you adjust the camera, trying to find the least disastrous angle for your live stream. chat explodes instantly, your followers are already spamming cake emojis and questions about the frosting.
“hi guys. ignore the angle. my grandma sent cake.”
WHAT FLAVOR
GRANDMA W
DROP THE RECIPE
EAT IT ON CAM OR IT DIDNT HAPPEN
ss you ramble on about the cake, the door creaks open, and a teal flash catches in the corner of the frame. you glance over, surprised to see kazemaru, his hair damp from a recent shower, frozen like a deer in headlights.
You grin, leaning back a bit. “hey, kazemaru! c'mere,” you call, ignoring the explosion of heart and eyes emojis now flooding the chat.
WHO IS THAT
TEAL HAIR??
IS THAT KAZEMARU
HELLOOO SAILOR 👅👅👅
“shh, chat, can we not simp for him for a sec... lets give credit to my grandma's baking skills,” you whisper, eyeing at chat obviously drooling for him.
he pauses, awkward, clearly debating retreat. he's clearly trying to figure out if he's just walked into a trap, but you point your fork at him without thinking. “ya' want some cake?”
NO WAY
DONT DO IT
HES GETTING FED
👀
“uh—” he laughs a little, unsure. “sure?”
you don’t grab another slice. you just take a small bite from your own piece, then tap the space next to you with your elbow. “come here, you’re not even on camera.”
which is a lie. his hair immediately shows up. just the edge of his jaw. enough.
chat goes feral.
I CAN SEE HIMMM
HI KAZEMARU
WHY IS HE CLOSE?!
THATS THE SAME FORK
👀👀
once he was close enough, you leaned over. "try it. I promise it’s not poisoned,” you add, unable to resist the playful tone. “and besides, my grandma would actually be mad if i didn’t share.”
kazemaru raises an eyebrow but leans in closer, close enough that a few teal strands drift into frame. he leans in, lips parting just enough for you to slip the fork in. he chews, eyes thoughtful, then gives you a silent nod and a thumbs-up, his face still slightly obscured but unmistakably kazemaru. “it’s good.”
👀👀👀👀⁉️⁉️
THE THUMBS UP????
WHY IS HE POLITE IM SICK
INDIRECT KISS HELLO
[name] you KNOWW what you're doinggg
“there you have it, chat. kazemaru-approved,” you announce, “totally safe!” setting your fork down with a satisfied grin.
he clears his throat, suddenly very aware of the phone. “i’m gonna— yeah.” and leaves, fast but not sprinting. door clicks shut.
you look back at the screen.
chat is unreadable at this point.
clipped. See U on the News
WHY DID YOU USE THE SAME FORK
did gouenji just got outdone...
QUESTION DO YOU DO THAT OFTEN IM SHAKING
👀👀👀👀👀👀
kazemaru x [name] CANON?
CLIPPEDD
kazemarunation we WONNN
your eyes gloss over the flowing state of the messages, and you shrug, deciding that this mess wasn't your business and you'll let your PR team (the managers...) do their thing with damage control. you take another bite.
“guys it’s cake. relax.”
chat does not relax.
────── ♥︎₊˚ ──────
the door clicks shut behind kazemaru, and for a second, the hallway is dead silent. He stands there, hand still on the doorknob, eyes wide as the faint echo of your laughter filters through the door.
he blinks, heart thundering in his chest, then jerks into motion, practically sprinting down the hall toward his room.
his mind races as he grabs his phone, frantically opening your live stream, his breath coming out in shallow, panicked bursts. the second the feed loads, his screen is flooded with a wall of chaotic comments:
I CAN’T BREATHE SHE JUST FED HIM LIKE THAT???
BRO JUST LET HIMSELF GET INDIRECT KISSED ON MAIN
smile guys we're in kazemaru's wattpad story
KAZEMARU IF YOU’RE WATCHING THIS, BLINK TWICE IF YOU’RE IN LOVE
👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀
kazemaru’s cheeks burn, and he quickly drags the playback bar back a few seconds, finding the exact moment you leaned in, fork outstretched. he watches, mortified, as you hold the bite out to him, your eyes locked on his the whole time.
he hadn’t even realized it in the moment, too caught up in the warmth of your smile and the teasing glint in your eyes, but—
you’d used the same fork. the same fork you’d been eating from.
his mind replays the moment in slow motion, catching the second your tongue flicked over the fork’s prongs before you loaded it up with cake again, your lips still glistening with whipped cream and crumbs.
kazemaru’s brain goes static.
he sinks to his bed, face buried in his hands as his heart goes into overdrive.
“Oh my god,” he mutters into his palms, the realization hitting him like a perfectly timed slide tackle.
the chat on your live explodes again, and he catches snippets as he slowly peeks through his fingers:
OH MY GOD INDIRECT KISS 😻
DOES HE KNOW?? IS HE WATCHING THIS RIGHT NOW??? KAZEMARU STANS HOW WE FEELING RN CAUSE I’M SWEATING
im so lonely
INDIRECT KISS INDIRECT KISSS 😈😈
to that guy who said "im so lonely" correction, WE'RE so lonely
👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 is this a hard launch?
to those lonely people in chat u goiz should kiss and get 2gether
SHE WAS LICKING THAT FORK BRO GOOD LUCK SLEEPING TONIGHT
kazemaru’s breath catches, and he slams his phone face-down on his bed, muffling a strangled noise as his mind replays the scene again and again.
xiao had learned the hard way that mortals could be unpredictable., and you, his girlfriend proved it daily. today you stood at the very edge of wangshu inn’s roof, peering down with the relaxed confidence. xiao before he could even think about it stepped forward. “you're going to fall” he muttered, sounding annoyed instead of alarmed. you only laughed and told him you had perfect balance.
which is why he stayed.
you hopped off the roof landing on one of the wooden beams with a wobble that sent xiao’s heart jolting. he caught your elbow before you could steady yourself, fingers tightening with more panic. you blinked up at him in surprise, he immediately stepped back releasing your arms “you should be morr cautious” it came out sharp almost irritated. it always did when he worried.
instead of arguing you simply grinned and walked past him heading down the stairs. he followed at a distance knowing damn well you were about to pul off another death trick. you talked with the inn staff, nearly bumping into things and tripping. xiao watched every movement like a hawk.
later you had set out on a commission to clear slimes near dihua marsh.
you promised it would be quick. which xiao translated to “yeah im about to engage in dumb shit” he shadowed you from the treetops, moving silently. whenever you swung your [weapon] too close to yourself or skidded on wet moss, he clenched his jaw.
a particularly large hydro slime had lunged at you, and though you dodged, you slipped on the wet ground. xiao’s body moved before his mind did, one blink and he was there, scooping you up in a smooth motion.
you didn't push the point. you just looked over at the marshland, humming softly while xiao sat atop the inn’s roof. the shn shifted casting warm gold across the plain, the sound od distant cranes, the gentle ripple of reeds swaying in the wind. xiao found hinself watching you instead of the horizon, the smudge of dirt on your cheek, the loose hair strand, the small scrape on your arm.
“oh lookie, the suns set time for my night commission!” you skipped down the stairs while xiao let out a drained sigh.
... except you're his daughter.
... and a rich girl ..! oh, the horrors!
CHARACTERS : Kidou Yuuto, Sakuma Jirou, Genda Koujirou, & Fudou Akio
— rambles from latte imagining a reader w/ a "typical" rich girl attitude
— can be read as platonic, but was written with romantic in mind.
— 957 words. 1 swear word. (fudou's part)
---
it starts off already unfair because you exist. not in a normal way, but in a “why is she here and why is she like this” way. rich, flamboyant, kageyama’s daughter of all things, walking into teikoku like the universe personally decided to prank them. you don’t walk, you glide. you don’t carry your own stuff. you delegate. somehow every bag you own defies physics. sakuma once tried to lift one and genuinely thought you were smuggling bricks or a small car inside. you just blinked at him and said it was “essentials”. no elaboration.
kidou clocks you as a problem immediately. not a loud problem, not even a malicious one, just a constant variable he cannot account for. you interrupt strategy meetings with casual comments that accidentally improve the formation. you’ll be lounging on a bench, legs crossed, outfit blindingly impractical, and then you say something like “their left wing hesitates when pressured twice” and kidou has to stop and stare at you like he just watched a magic trick. it makes him deeply uncomfortable how competent you are beneath the glitter. he hates that he trusts you. he hates more that he wants your approval.
Sometimes though, when in a strategizing meeting you interrupt with nonsense like, “Sorry, I forgot I exist and needed attention.”
Does he sigh? Yes.
Does he melt? Also yes.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗
genda is not complicated. he likes order, strength, and people who don’t confuse him.
You confuse him.
深ly.
genda is doomed in a more physical way. you treat him like a pack mule with rights. “koujirou, sweetheart, hold this,” and suddenly his arms are full of bags that weigh more than teikoku’s entire training equipment. he never complains. he just adjusts his grip and follows you like this is his life now. you scold him when he pushes himself too hard. you fix his posture. you tape his hands before matches without asking. he doesn’t know how to handle the way you care so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to worry about him. he’d walk through fire if you asked. you’d probably ask him to grab you a drink instead.
“Koujirou, sweetie, flex for me, I need to confirm my research.”
“What research?”
“If I ever get stranded in the wild, I need to know which of you can carry me and my cat.”
Genda: [buffering noises]
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗
sakuma already has attachment issues, you know this.
then you show up with your lethal pretty privilege and shiny accessories and command the room like a some manwha villainess CEO.
like a dog that chose the worst possible owner, he imprints on you instantly. (according to fudou)
he tries to act unbothered, but his ears metaphorically perk up every time you say his name. he gets bullied by fudou for it too, because fudou can smell desperation from 5 km away.
sakuma is the easiest victim and you know it. you tease him gently, constantly, relentlessly. you call him pet names just to watch him spiral. you lean too close when you talk. you praise him in ways that make his ears burn. he tries to stay loyal, dignified, composed but you ruin him by existing near him. he notices the way you stay late organizing equipment. the way you remember everyone’s preferences. the way you never mock their effort, only their attitudes. he realizes you aren’t pretending to care. it makes him soft. it makes him stupid.
You tease him the harshest because he’s the easiest to get riled up.
“Sakuma, baby, fetch—”
“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”
“Kidding. I just dropped my lip gloss.”
And he still picks it up.
And wipes it.
And hands it back.
And then walks away in emotional crisis.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗
fudou, though. fudou is warfare. he clocks your attitude instantly and decides this is a game. except you’re better at it. you flirt like you’re bored. you tease like you’re sharpening knives. now he’s the one being mentally folded like origami. you call him out on his bullshit in front of everyone and then smile like you just paid him a compliment. he tries to get under your skin and fails spectacularly because you simply do not care. you tell him to hydrate. you tell him to stop picking fights for attention. you tell him his ego is loud but his footwork could be cleaner. he hates that you’re right. he hates that you see through him. he hates that he listens.
One time you said, “Akki, be a darling and pass me my bag.”
He picked it up.
Immediately dropped it.
Looked at his hands like they’d been cursed.
“WHY DO YOU OWN A BAG HEAVIER THAN MY TRAUMA?!”
You just shrugged.
“My cat wanted it.”
“THE CAT DOESN’T TALK—”
“He practically barked it at me.”
“Cats.. Don't bark??”
and the cat. god, the cat. the designer-wearing menace. you speak about it like it’s a divine being. you justify every absurd purchase with “he wanted it.” when questioned, you insist the cat communicated this desire very clearly. barked it at you, actually. sakuma looks confused. kidou looks tired. genda accepts it as truth. fudou loses his mind every single time.
what really messes them up is that you’re not fake. you’re annoying, yes. you’re indulgent, yes. you tease them like it’s oxygen. but you’re also the one who stays after practice, who notices injuries before they’re mentioned, who argues with kageyama himself when he pushes them too far. you don’t raise your voice. you don’t throw tantrums. you just stand there, perfectly dressed, perfectly calm, and refuse to budge. it terrifies and amuses them.
who knew teikoku academy have their very own natsumi-san?
today was raimons cultural festival day. a day where all classes would participate & prepare booths and other fun entertainment. & god you hated cultural day, because your class would always pick the most stupidest of ideas. a maid cafe. & what really set you on fire, was YOU having to wear the frilly ridiculous outfit, “i think you look cute yn—chan” aoi patted your head. “hm..i don't know..” “hey! at least your participating, unlike tenna..he wants to play soccer whole day, sigh” you couldn't help but giggle. “yeah that sounds like tenma!”
“i gotta continue with the other decorations. oh here— take these out while your at it!” aoi handed you some cupcakes “okay!”
“jeez..last thing i need is someone from outside seeing me in this ridiculously thing!” spoke too soon...
“TENMAA!”
‘uh..oh, i know who's voice that is..’ you saw him walk through the gates with a confident smirk on his face ‘did he come to see raimons festival?’ & sure enough there was already a crowd surrounding him.
a bunch of boys & girls fawning over him, until tenma & shinsuke ran up to him.
“taiyou, you came! ready to play?!” “yeah!”
“oh no, you two don't—” you snatched tenma & shinsuke by their collars. “you two are supposed to be helping, not playing soccer!”
“oh right! todays the festival. ha totally forgot..” they both scratched their necks. “sigh..sorry taiyou, tenma & shinsuke should've known better— uh taiyou—?” you tilted your head slightly looking at the sun haired boy. he looked like he was in a daze as if he had witness the whole sun explode.
“yn—chan..?” you finally realised. “i swearr— i didn't agree to it!” you waved your arms in defense.
“sorry—” he shook his head “im just not used to seeing you like this” “but, you look pretty cute” he gave a thumbs up. “pretty cute, huh?” midori appeared throwing a arm over your shoulder. “i didn't know your boyfriend was stopping by~” she taunted.
“midori—sama!” you fidgeted with the frilly material trying not to overheat.
headcanons time! as requested! ୨୧
amemiya taiyou as a boyfriend, during the times when in hospitals he'd sneak out & meet you in the yard for dates to watch the sunset together, before getting caught by fuyuka—san.
you two probably would've known each other since childhood, you would always scold him when he played a little rough or excessive. you were like his little nurse! sometimes he'd call you a grandma since you always worried so much & he would also find it funny when you would say your signature line ‘oh, dear..’
your definitely one of his priorities! you two were definitely childhood sweethearts & adults used to look at the two of you and think ’a cute couple’
I'd imagine if you were fuyuka—sans daughter, now that would be cute & add up! he'd tell you ‘your just like your mom.’ & sometimes fuyuka would supervise him outside while the three of you sat there talking. you two would tease your mother about her little crush on endou when she was younger.
i love taiyou sm!! he's very bf material @lattechotic
THANKYOU THANKYOUUU AWWHHH THIS IS SO CUTE... yesyes he IS bf material !!! ooo the maid cafe idea is really adorable, and definitely the childhood sweethearts trope just fit so well with him!
the concept of being fuyuka-san's daughter who got it bad BAD with the hospital's high-maintenance sunshine—(mainly because he's so cheeky, always escaping his room at any given chance!)—soccer-obssessed freak... AND YOU BEING CALLED LIKE HIS LITTLE NURSE....
HEY TWIN, or fellow moot, I AM SOSOSO HAPPY ANS SO GLAD TO SEE ANOTHER FELLOW INAZUMA ELEVEN FAN
HAII TWIN, MOOTIE, POOKIE, WHATEVER YOU WANT, LATTE IS ALWAYS AT YOUR SERVICE !!!
IM GLAD TO HEAR THAT OMG 💘,,, IT IS ALSO A FUN SUPRISEE every time i discover still-active inazuma eleven fans!! i was so happy discovering you from my moot @/cammyys ,, and i was pleasantly surprised that there are still some people that write and likes inazuma eleven in the big 2025 :)
IM SOSOS SORRY FOR NOT RESPONDING EARLIER, AND YOU DONT HAVE TO APOLOGIZE 🥹🥹 !! Please trust that i'll get to EVERYONE'S ask as long as tumblr didnt throw it into the void... YOU ARE NO BOTHERR ✌️✌️
also i NEEDD more ie fans that enjoy xreaders,,, they're my all time favs to indulgee.. if you have any reqs hit me up... 😈
"you can tell if someone used chatgpt because of the em dashe—" no. false. my hands do not touch generative ai and they will be cold and dead before you can pry the em dash from their clutches
Dating Afuro Terumi isn’t just being with a pretty boy. It’s being with someone who walks into a room and every molecule seems to rearrange themselves to accommodate his glow. Even your bathroom lights look brighter when he steps inside, like they’re competing for his approval.
Your old life?
Simple. Minimalistic. Some may say it's quite beautifully average.
You: wash, moisturize, sleep.
Aphrodi: physically recoils the first time he sees it.
Tonight, you’re brushing your teeth, minding your business, when he glides into the bathroom with the quiet reverence of someone entering a temple.
“Hm,” he hums thoughtfully, eyes already on your face. “You look… dehydrated.”
You spit your toothpaste dramatically. “Good evening to you too.”
He ignores the attitude like he’s been trained by angels. He reaches for the silk headband — the headband — and lifts it like he’s presenting an offering.
“Come here.”
“No.”
“Come here.”
“I refuse—”
He steps closer, smile warm and smug. “You won’t win.”
You do not win.
The headband is gently pushed onto your head, fingers brushing your hairline. Aphrodi looks pleased, as if he’s preparing his prized student for a sacred rite.
He holds your chin. “Close your eyes.”
“Is this romantic,” you ask flatly, “or am I about to get splash-attacked again?”
“Both,” he says, and then cold essence hits your cheek like divine punishment.
He pats it in with little controlled taps, humming under his breath like some serene skincare monk. His reflection glows brighter than yours. It’s upsetting.
You try to reason with him. “This is step six. SIX.”
“Seven,” he corrects with the same tone someone might use to teach a child math. “You skipped exfoliation yesterday.”
“How do you know that—”
“Your texture changed.”
“My what.”
He doesn’t answer, already reaching for a heavier bottle — the expensive one, the one that lives in a ceramic dish like an exhibit at a skincare museum.
“No. No, no, Terumi, don’t you dare, that’s your limited-edition—”
He uncaps it.
“Terumi.”
“It’s fine.”
“That costs more than electricity.”
He gives you a slow look. “Radiance cannot be priced.”
“That’s exactly what people say right before they go bankrupt.”
He taps a generous drop onto his fingers and spreads it on your cheeks with such tenderness that your knees wobble. His fingertips are warm, the serum cool, and for a moment, you forget your protests and just melt. He notices — of course, he notices — and his smile turns soft.
“There you go,” he murmurs. “My star.”
“You’re bribing me with moisture.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “And it’s working.”
You groan, but he’s already finishing the routine, tapping your skin until it’s glossy enough to reflect your regrets back at you.
Then he steps back, examines you like an artist checking his masterpiece, and beams.
“Perfect,” he says. “Blindingly so.”
“You just want me to match you.”
“Obviously.”
You’re scooped straight into bed afterwards, your face still damp, your dignity hanging by a thread. He curls around you, arms secure, breath warm against your neck.
“Goodnight,” he whispers. “My beautiful, glowing love.”
“You forced me into this.”
He kisses your shoulder. “You enjoyed it.”
You refuse to answer.
But the next morning, without thinking, you reach for his toner — the fancy one he keeps on a higher shelf so you “don’t accidentally use it wrong.”
You don’t even realize you grabbed it until a sleepy voice behind you hums:
“Knew you’d convert eventually.”
You jump. “I wasn’t converting—”
“You were glowing,” he says, rubbing his eyes like a cat, smiling as if he predicted this entire downfall the moment he bought the silk headband. “And now you want more.”
You mutter something incoherent. He gently takes the toner from your hand and replaces it with a softer one.
“That one’s too strong to start your morning,” he explains. “Let me show you.”
He kisses your cheek.
And just like that, your fate is sealed.
Aphrodi’s 12-Step Skincare Routine has claimed you.
And honestly? Radiance does look good on you.
snippet of the next chapter's start :) i am coming to terms with the fact that my writing style has drastically evolved since the first chapter's publishing, which was a long long time ago. to think it is already november....
CHARACTER : Tsunami Jousuke
—established relationship, fluff, light banter, & bad ocean-related puns
—452 words.
---
You don’t notice it at first. One or two puns here and there, tossed into the air like harmless pebbles. He flashes that big, sunny grin of his after saying something dumb like, “Guess we’re in deep water now!” and you groan, roll your eyes, maybe flick a towel at him. Easy. No big deal. You’re stronger than that.
But then it keeps happening.
Every practice. Every conversation. “You’re krillin’ it out there!” “I shore hope you’re ready for the next match!” “Oof, that pass was a real splash hit!”
Every time, like clockwork. And somehow the worst part is how genuinely delighted he looks after. Like he really believes he’s just made the greatest joke in existence. And the worst-worst part? You start smiling. Not ironically. Not out of pity. Actually smiling. (Oh, lord, what have you gotten yourself into?)
You try to tell yourself it’s fine. He’s just... weirdly charming. No one’s immune to dimples and surfer vibes. It’s science. And he’s your boyfriend now anyway, so maybe you’re just biased. Maybe being in love lowers your pun defenses. Who knows.
But then it happens. The downfall. (M’kay.)
You’re walking to practice, yawning, brain still booting up. Someone asks if you’ve seen Tsunami, and before you can stop yourself, you say,
“Nah, guess he’s just... tide up.”
...?
You blink. You said that. That came out of your mouth. Like it was normal. (It isn't.)
From behind you, you hear it. His laugh. That dumb, bright, sunshine-soaked laugh. And then, “Babe.”
You turn around and he’s looking at you like you just gave him the world’s best present. “I’m so proud of you right now.”
“I will literally throw myself into the ocean,” you mutter.
“You’ve embraced it. You’re one of us now,” he grins, arm already slinging around your shoulder. “You’ve got the sea in your soul.”
“I hate you.”
“You love it.”
You do. You really, really do. That’s the problem.
He bumps your shoulder. “You krill me.”
You don’t even look at him. “Go krill yourself.”
He gasps like you broke his heart, but he quips in quickly. “But babe... I’m one in a krillion.”
You glance at him. He’s so proud. Too proud. Beaming like a smug little tide god.
You sigh. “You're lucky you're cute.”
He leans in, kisses your cheek. You smell the ocean on him—salt, sweat, something wind-warm and familiar. Like summer mornings and wet sand, like long practices and him waiting for you after with that dumb smile.
You shake your head, but you’re smiling again.
And when he squeezes your hand and says, “Ready to make waves today?” (Tsunami, please..)
