Here's a hilarious fanfic by Mistytail!

He went out again.

His gray steps touched the moonless forest floor, gleaming in the moon's light. He was going to see it again.

His one and only love. The one thing he wanted to spend his days with- OUCH.

The cat snarled at the evil TreeClan tree that had jumped in his way. "Don't you mess with me!" the gray cat snarled. "No one will mess with the great JAYPAW!!"

Jaypaw then proceeded to beat a tree for the next hour and a half. Leave it to the blind one to attack the only target that will never move...and lose.

The TreeClan tree had won. Jaypaw fled the scene, tail between his legs, only to be attacked by a rogue root. "Curse you, plantlife!" He chewed on the murderous tree root for another hour.

The sky had already begun to darken, not that Jaypaw could notice. He yowled in triumph over the rogue root. "Ha! Now you have tasted the true power of..."

Jaypaw's little gray nose sniffed lightly. The stick!

He ran to his beloved stick. "Oh, my dear stick!" he purred lovingly, rubbing his cheeks all over the twig. "We'll start our own life together, stick, just you and me. But," Jaypaw meowed, sitting up straight, "'stick' just isn't a good enough name for one as beautiful as you. Hmm, let's see..."

Jaypaw, in three seconds, found a laptop, turned on a screen reader, and proceed to go to FanFiction.net to look up names to the stick. Three hours later, he cried, "Aha! I found one! Stick, from this moment on, you will be known as Everlastingbeautyandglorypelt!"

Jaypaw then picked up the st- ...I mean, Everlastingbeautyandglorypelt, and together, the two would indulge in their not forbidden, just weird, romance.

The End.

Here's a great fanfic by Wolf of Warrior's Wish!:

I was out of the camp, hunting. As I padded along the stream, I saw a stick poking out of the mud. Her barkless skin shone beautifully in the sunlight, her scratches making a odd texture on my pads.

Slowly, I dragged the stick out of the mud and let it rest on the riverbed. The soft whisper of water sounded behind me, and I dunked the stick in the water to wash the mud off. Many cuts covered the stick. She must have fought in a battle to save her clan from the horrid weed-pack. Then she must have been separated.

How brave! I thought in admiration. The stick-clan must be proud of her. Maybe she was the leader of the stick-clan. He could imagine her perched on the rock, calling to her clan. The other sticks looking up at her, dazzled by her beauty.

The stick, so majestic, so proud. So beautiful. I will take care of her. I thought in determination as I dragged the stick under a root. As I padded away, I looked back once at her, lying firmly beneath the roots. I will be back.