WHERE: You and Nicholas are childhood best friends, but you have secret feelings for him. Telling him might jeopardize your perfect friendship, but not telling him is a burden for you since your feelings for him are really sincere. Even if you were dating, you two have different love language, which makes you a Mismatch. So what will you do?
W/C: dont rly know yet, maybe around ~5k
Playlist
Moodboard
TYSMM FOR YOUR REQUEST BABESSS @mrsyangsikmoa I HOPE TO FINISH IT SOONN
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
RIP, Jane – you would’ve really loved how much queer literature is explicitly gaying up your work.
***
For generally Austen-inspired work, check out:
I Shall Never Fall in Love by Hari Conner
George has major problems: They’ve just inherited the failing family estate, and the feelings for their best friend, Eleanor, have become more complicated than ever. Not to mention, if anyone found out they…
Synopsis: James always runs late and whenever that happens, it becomes a tradition for him to wear unmatched socks. You notice and quietly join in.
Point of view: Second-person ( “. He saw you .” )
Warnings: fluff, very short
You notice it the first week back at Hogwarts.
It’s Monday morning. The sky is grey and heavy. Everyone in Gryffindor Tower moves like they’re underwater. You’re curled up on the sofa, tying your shoes slowly, because last night was too late. Across from you, James Potter is hunting for his tie.
He’s loud.
“Has anyone seen a red tie with a suspicious stain that looks a bit like pumpkin juice but isn’t?” He digs under the sofa cushions.
You roll your eyes, but look anyway. His shoes are on the wrong feet. Hair sticking up everywhere. And then you see his socks.
One is bright green with little snitches stitched along the cuff. The other is plain grey.
You laugh.
James freezes, tie dangling from his mouth, and looks at you. “What?”
“Your socks,” you say. “They’re fighting.”
He glances down. Blinks. Shrugs. “They’re mates. Opposites attract.”
You shake your head, giggling. Your smile sticks long after he’s gone to breakfast.
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 <- bob
It becomes a thing.
Every few days, there’s a new pair. Blue and yellow stripes. Polka dots and stars. One afternoon after Quidditch, one sock has tiny frogs, the other has lightning bolts.
It’s ridiculous.
So you tease him.
In Charms, you murmur, “Did the socks choose each other, or did you just close your eyes?”
He grins without looking. “Bit of both.”
Sirius laughs from the next desk. “He does it on purpose. Thinks it makes him mysterious.”
James tosses a crumpled piece of paper at him“Actually, if you allow me, it’s interesting, not mysterious.”
You roll your eyes. But he notices your smile and smiles back. You start feeling flip flops and twists and knots in your stomach, just like.. “Cramps!” you say to yourself. Stupid you.
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 -> Mr. bricks
Autumn drifts by.
The corridors are crisp with wind. Leaves swirl. The lake darkens. James sits near the fire when it rains. Shoes half off. Socks always strange. You start looking forward to it.
You tell yourself it’s just funny. Harmless. You also tell yourself lots of things that aren’t quite true.
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 <- kevin
One morning, as you wait for the others, James plops down next to you. “Normal socks again? Tragic.”
“They’re warm,” you say. “That’s what matters, James”
He freezes a little and you soon realize he does so every time you say his name.
“Warm is fine,” he leans closer. “But a little personality wouldn’t hurt.”
“Like yours?”
“Exactly! It’s called, Mismatched perfection.”
He lifts a foot. green and orange stripes. The other bright blue with little cars.
“Your feet look like they are arguing about Quidditch teams,” you say, trying not to laugh.
“Only because they both think they are winners, but the real winner is obviously gryffindor.”
You shake your head, smiling anyway.
(no, I did not just giggle 2 minutes over my own writing)
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 <- willie
October.
He makes a show of it now. Rolling up trousers. Tilting a foot toward you in study. A secret game no one else notices.
One afternoon, while you’re working on a Transfiguration essay, he says, “I think you’re secretly jealous.”
“Of what?”
“My unmatched style.”
“Unmatched being the key word.”
He laughs bright, full. Your chest feels light. Stomach warm. You tell yourself it’s nothing.
That night, you dig through your trunk. Find one pair almost close, pale yellow and tiny daisies. Not quite matching. You set them aside.
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 <- david
November.
You know.
The teasing is routine, softer now. When he catches you looking, he smiles shy. You sit closer. You notice broom polish and rain on him. The socks are only a piece of it.
He’s always moving, always laughing. But sometimes he looks at you like you’re the only person thhere.
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 <- emma
Last Quidditch match before winter. You wake up early. Sky grey. Sitting at the edge of your bed with socks in hand. One navy with moons, one plain white. Strange, but you pull them on.
Breakfast buzzing. You slide in next to him.
“Morning. Ready to cheer for the best team at Hogwarts?”
“Always.” you smile brightly.
“You’ll need lucky socks,” he says.
You glance down, then up proudly. “Already have them!”
Nudge one foot forward. He sees it. Mismatched.
He stares. Noise fades. Heartbeat loud.
Then a soft smile. Not his usual grin.
“You copied me,” he whispers.
“No. I matched you.” you pout.
James Potter is silent.
Remus calls him. He doesn’t move. Just keeps looking. Warm eyes.
“Guess we’re in the same club now,” he finally says.
“The Mismatched Socks Club,” you reply.
He laughs, soft now, still memorizing.
Later, after Gryffindor wins, he finds you outside the changing rooms. Robes messy, hair wild, eyes bright. He lifts one foot. Red and gold.
“Still dramatic,” you laugh.
“Wouldn’t want to let the club down.”
You straighten his scarf. “Then we make it official. Mismatched and proud.”
He looks at your feet, back at you. Smiling wide.
“Deal.”
Snow falls. Between teasing and matching, and all the little moments, you’ve become more. Something smaller, simpler, yours.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
