So is it a crush?
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MatureOngoing<5 mins
Last published Sun, Feb 8, 2026
(Basically a fanfic of my friends..)
By the third week of the semester, Mob had learned three immutable facts about Cretin.
One: Cretin never knocked.
Two: Cretin drank coffee like it was a moral obligation.
Three: Cretin flirted like it was a competitive sport-and then acted personally victimized when Mob so much as smiled back.
"Your collarbone is distracting," Cretin announced one afternoon, dropping into his desk chair and spinning it aggressively. "I'm trying to read about attachment disorders and you're just... out here."
Mob didn't look up from his sketchbook. "You're staring at me again."
"I am observing," Cretin corrected. "Very different. Scientific."
Mob snorted and dragged charcoal across the page, shading in the curve of a shoulder that definitely wasn't Cretin's. "Funny how your science always involves my neck."
Cretin leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes flicking exactly where Mob knew they would. "I'm just saying. If you wanted attention, you could've just asked."
Mob finally glanced up, eyebrow arched. "Is this you asking?" Cretin recoiled like Mob had thrown a shoe at him. "God, no. Ew. Don't make it weird."
Mob blinked. Then laughed, sharp and incredulous. "You literally just told me my body was distracting."
"That doesn't mean I want you to do anything about it."
"So you can flirt," Mob said, closing his sketchbook with deliberate calm, "but if I flirt back, it's 'ew'?"
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