So… hello!
This is my first actual story which has more than two chapters (A Hundred Haiku with a Newbie Poet doesn't count) which I am uploading here.
(I mean, if all goes according to plan it should be around ten chapters long.)

And they're sock puppets, which means I had some fun while doing all the things.

Have fun?

WilliamSock sat in his small, crowded room on his favourite beanbag. His room was incredibly messy, like any teenager's room, but like most teenagers, he didn't care. His mind was on something else entirely.

You see, WilliamSock had feelings for his best friend HaroldSock which weren't exactly entirely platonic. His mind was on that.

He had a crush on (or, as he called it in his head, was in love with) HaroldSock for three years.

And, because he was gay and HaroldSock was straight, things didn't exactly work out.

Well, not that HaroldSock knew about WilliamSock's feelings, but anyway.

WilliamSock sighed and threw back his luscious, long, blond SockHair. He and HaroldSock were so different, yet they somehow managed to hit it off and were now the best of friends. And a few months later was when the feelings blossomed.

But HaroldSock was a NerdSock, for SockWorld's sake. He was short, too. Argyle ankle socks weren't supposed to be appealing. Argyle ankle socks who spent their free time reading and studying instead of exercising should have been even less appealing.

So how and why did it happen?

An unwanted voice in WilliamSock's head spoke up. Well… he has freckles, for one.

WilliamSock threw his SockHair back again. He was a hair-tosser. 'Why me?' he muttered as he threw one of his SockPonchos against the wall. 'Why not some other sock?'

CatherineSock was in a café with two of her friends, discussing in whispers the complications of her feelings toward WilliamSock.

'So you're saying you like him?' AngieSock asked, leaning forward and fixing her black button SockEyes on CatherineSock's.

'Yes.'

'And he doesn't like you?'

'Well, he didn't make any moves…'

'Have you ever thought of asking him yourself?'

'I can't do that!'

'And why not?' asked BethSock, a short, deep purple sock. 'You have the confidence.'

'No.'

'Debating skills, oral presentations, social skills, performances and confident posture, just to name a few.'

'Yeah, but that's different.'

'How? You can easily do it yourself.'

'But he's…'

'Are you afraid of rejection?' asked AngieSock, bent on receiving an answer.

'… Maybe,' CaherineSock replied, staring down at the floor.

'CHICKEN!' BethSock loudly declared.

'Then I'll ask him for you,' AngieSock said simply, throwing an angry glare at BethSock.

'No. I will personally turn you inside-out if you even think about it again.'

'Then ask him. You have the confidence and skills.'

'What would happen if I don't? Will you go and ask him anyway?'

'Obviously.'

CatherineSock sighed and looked at the floor again. After much mental debate which in reality lasted five seconds, she mumbled, '…Fine. I'll ask.'

HaroldSock was curled up on a cushion in the SockLibrary, skimming through a random neglected book he picked up on one of the shorter shelves. Being an argyle ankle sock sucked. He couldn't reach any of the higher shelves without a ladder, and thanks to his abominable coordination, almost always fell off when he tried.

But, unlike almost every other day he came here, his mind wasn't on the book.

Oh, no. It was on CatherineSock, who in his mind was the prettiest and most adorable of socks, with her pale pink complexion and dainty butterflies trailing down her side and short brown SockHair and…

He shook his SockHead and tried to get back to reading. TimHuman was faced with a dramatic life-threatening situation involving pliers and skyscrapers, and he completely forgot how it happened.

HaroldSock sighed and eventually snapped the book shut. If he couldn't concentrate on this epic adventure of TimHuman, what else could he concentrate on?

CatherineSock, it seemed.

No, HaroldSock reminded himself, it would be who else. CatherineSock was a who, not a what.

He almost swore aloud. He was a NerdSock, he was an argyle sock (and a pale one at that), he was short, he had freckles, he didn't exercise much, he wore classic NerdGlasses and his hair was short, messy and fire truck red. And on top of all that, he almost swore in the library. In front of little kids.

He wasn't attractive at all.

His dear friend WilliamSock, on the other hand, had everything. Luscious hair, buff, no freckles, never swearing, a knee-high sock with no freckles and a sense of humour and style.

Sometimes, HaroldSock couldn't help but be jealous of him. To be fair, he had an excellent sense of humour and a half decent sense of style, but he preferred SockSuspenders. Yeah. He screamed NerdSock.

Why does WilliamSockSock have to be so good-looking? Why CatherineSock? Why us three? HaroldSock hit his SockHead on the floor.

And by 'had fun with all the things' I do mean, among a few things, the whole 'let's do the Mary Sue test on these guys…' upon which 'This section applies to immortals, fey, gods and everything else other than human' made me laugh because 'sock puppets are apparently unpopular when it comes to fiction'.