Here are one-shots for you to read! In the beginning of each, you will see a small grouping of information that tells you whether or not it's a fan-fic or a personal fic, what pairings to expect, the rating of the one-shot, etc. Be sure to read any and all warnings present in the beginning of each one-shot!

And as I sat on the stairs that led to my apartment complex, knees bend up until I was able to cradle my chin between them; I found that I didn’t really notice or even care how picturesque the scenery really is.

She had been here last night. Her, with her lovely eyes that were the color of mountains at dawn--somehow blue, grey, and purple all at once; her long, soft, healthily thick and curling raven hair that had a faint lavender hue in the light; and not to mention, her soft curves that seemed to meld and flow together like the perfectly-rhyming beat of one of my poems I loved to write.

I hated how wielding I was to her soft touches and feather-light whispers; her words were relaxing and encouraging and far too precious to be genuine. She was definitely a good, morale person, no doubt; she couldn’t be pressured into harming a mosquito. But when it came to getting something, or in this case, someone, she wanted, she was all for the cunning, dark art of persuasion and seduction.

How did she manage to turn her eyes into gleaming orbs that could draw in a human like a light did an insect? How was she able to string her words together like some angelic melody? Was it even legal for how she could run her fingers down the contours of my skin; were her edible, strawberry-flavored kisses eligible to be considered something not in the realms of romantic fantasy?

I don’t know how that cunning seductress was able to do it, but I did know that she got whatever she wanted when she entered my flat.

I listlessly flicked away the ashes that were piling up at the very end of my cigarette with a tap of my finger, letting soft, dove grey smoke sail up into the vaporous daybreak air until it finally blended with the fog somewhere up there.

It was nearing six forty-five, I guessed, as I inspected a patch of dried-up paint on my flannel pants. That meant that she had a good twenty minutes before she would be late to class. I contemplated going in to wake her, but thought against it: her being tardy wouldn’t even begin to pay back the large destruction she did on my life and sanity.

Rosaline… it was a delicate and creative name for a delicate and creative girl. She was Japanese, American, and something else that I couldn’t identify. Rosaline was incredibly small, the top of her head near the tip of my nose. Her skin was a creamy white color, not pasty at all, but still poetically pale. Like I said before, her eyes were this strange, hybrid blend of purples, blues, and greys. I had once tried to find a nail polish color that matched their hue, but I couldn’t find anything that came close in the half hour I spent in the beauty supply store.

Rosaline was an incredibly intelligent girl, and she wanted to be an artist or whatever; she once told me that she was only in college because it was what her parents wanted. I didn’t know why she wasted her time, efforts and money in the university, if she desired a plain white canvas and richly pigmented oil paints. All I saw in the classrooms were books upon illegible books, all blathering on and on about some kind of boring academic subject.

I sighed, stopping my thoughts as I stubbed the smoldering end of my close-to-finished cigarette into the red brick of the stair I sat on. Getting up with slight difficulty—my bones were aching, after all. I walked over to the entrance of the apartment building, tossing my cigarette butt in the waste bin that was placed next to the doorway.

When I trudged into my apartment, everything was still as it had been the previous night, with masses of my school work piled up high on the kitchen table and my laptop, closed and set on ‘hibernate’ mode, humming softly underneath the single chair placed nearby the mountains of papers and books.

The place I’d grown to call home in the past two years was peacefully quiet, as if it were still asleep. There was a faint blue tone to the darkness present, and only a small sliver of light shone through the thick olive-colored curtains.

I hesitated for a moment. Should I bother going into the bedroom? I felt slightly on edge at the thought of accidentally waking her up; I didn’t feel like chatting it up with Rosalie this early on in the day. I shook my head at my own foolishness; I shouldn’t be scared of her. If anything, Rosalie should be intimidated by me.

…Yes, that was quite a humorous thought. Even though I happened to be a bit taller than she was, I was only a twenty-one-year old woman. I rolled my brown eyes tiredly at the fail of my pathetic attempt of a self-pep talk, and just headed towards my room, heedless of my past worries. It was still early, and I didn’t have any classes to attend until eleven o’clock!

She was still comfortably nestled in my queen-sized bed; the maroon covers bunched around her shoulders and exposed the tips of her feet from where I stood. It was such a shame that she was so manipulative, because she was incredibly gorgeous.

I didn’t know why she took advantage of the small acquaintanceship we had going. We could’ve grown to be great buddies, despite the slight crush I harbored—well, still harbor—for her.

It all began in a campus café: I had been sipping at a raspberry-peach smoothie while I crammed for a psychology test I had that afternoon, minding my own business. I hadn’t noticed her entrance before she sidled up to my table that was meant for two.

I had recalled seeing her on the school grounds, flouncing about in her freely flowing skirts and long-sleeved blouses with some wacky cartoon-emblazoned messenger bag slung around her shoulder. I thought she was cute, but I soon forgot about her as the year began, since she didn’t happen to be in any of my classes.

After spending the precious time that should’ve been dedicated to my class talking comfortably with her, we had exchanged phone numbers and AIM addresses; we even planned on meeting in the café again later on next week.

Time drifted on, and our brittle acquaintanceship slowly grew in the months that passed.

But then she had to go and ruin things by beginning to subtly flirt with me.

It was publicly known that I happened to be bisexual, and it was publicly known that she was a lesbian. Without any further investigating, she had lapsed in a pattern of allurement. I wasn’t even sure why she would purposefully let her touches linger, our hands graze one another’s, or make small comments that could have a double entendre. She didn’t know me all that well, and we surely weren’t girlfriends in any kind of romantic sense.

But things began to grow more passionate, and she erected a small ritual where she would give me small peck-of-the-lips whenever we met as a greeting, or whenever we left as a goodbye. I was suspicious at first, but as it began to root in our ‘friendship’, I thought nothing more of it, and pretended I didn’t enjoy the little kisses.

I don’t remember when the kisses grew to be more intense, but I know that about a month or so after the little pecks were started, they became more lingering. She would hug me close to her, letting me feel her warmth and smell her intoxicating perfume as she touched her lips to mine in a sweet embrace.

I would always keep my eyes open, whereas she would slide her fabulous eyes ever so slowly closed.

Finally, everything grew to a head one recent night when I went over to her place to watch Hairspray with her. It was Friday, and neither of us had classes on Saturdays, so we were free to let our fun linger on throughout the night. Just as Link was belting out his sonnet to a framed black-and-white school photo he’d found in her room, I felt a hand grazing my leg. It seemed to be timid, but by the time Seaweed was trying not to ‘lose control’ in the backseat of his friend’s car, Amber just to his left underneath a blanket, I felt the hand rubbing all kinds of designs on my sensitive thigh. I couldn’t remember the rest of that movie even if I tried; all I could focus on were those figure eights, corkscrews, and curlicues that were being invisibly drawn onto my electrically charged skin.

I think it was during the time when You Can’t Stop the Beat began when Rosaline reached over and turned me to her, forcing me close so she could kiss me.

I was stupidly sitting there, her lips attacking mine, for a good minute before I got a grip on the situation. I gasped, and before she could force her tongue into my opened mouth or do something else equally unwanted, I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away from me; our lips were separated by a good distance so there wouldn’t be any ‘magnet effects’ occurring where our lips would seem to pull themselves back to each other.

I got up off of the couch, grabbing my purse as I did so, and said nothing as I walked over to the door. She was running to my side as I stepped into my slip-on shoes; I didn’t hear anything she said as I opened the door, but she grabbed onto the door as I swung it open. By the way her fingers turned a paler color of white, I figured she was nearly crushing the door to splinters.

“I’m sorry, Rachel,” She cried out desperately, searching my eyes for some kind of remorse, “I thought we were… you know…” She trailed off, cutely biting her bottom lip. Huh… so there was some sort of twisted relationship that had been presumed beneath my nose.

I didn’t know why I did what I did, but I only gave her a small, silent glare before storming off to my car that was parked outside.

I spent that entire drive contemplating my situation, and I had to turn off my cell phone because the annoying repetition of my ring tone was beginning to grate on my already-sensitized nerves. I thought about what being Rosaline’s girlfriend would be like, and I realized that it wasn’t an unpalatable thought. I liked Rosaline, I was attracted to Rosaline, and Rosaline captivated me. So why didn’t I stay and discuss things with her back there? Was I scared or something?

To this day, I’m still at a loss for an answer; I still don’t know if I want to be Rosaline’s girlfriend.

Last night, though, she had come over, wearing something I’d never seen her in during the year or so I’ve known Rosaline. She had a large brown trench coat on when she entered my place, but once I closed the door, she let it fall to the floor to reveal a black corset-style spaghetti strap night tip, with blood-red ribbons crisscrossed through the loops that kept the contraption tightened. Her breasts, which weren’t puny or Pamela-style, were pushed up and together to form two identical lumps with a hefty amount of visible cleavage. She wore a pair of black silk underwear, and as my eyes drifted even lower, those fishnet stockings you can easily find in a Hot Topic. On her feet was a pair of high heels, the same red as the ribbon in her top and accented with small sparkles.

I felt a bit sloppy, to say the least, as I stood there in a pair of my old plaid sweats and a holey t-shirt.

She said some things—I can’t remember, because I was too… occupied with the view. But I know that it ended up with me and her, in my bed last night.

When I woke up this morning, it was like being overcome with a hangover: I didn’t really remember much of last night, except that I had done it with Rosaline… two or three times, in fact. I also remembered getting up sometime during the night to remove a shoe that had been prodding me in the back before curling up in the covers, taking in the body warmth next to me and inhaling the strong scent that was Rosaline and, kind of embarrassingly, sex.

In the moment and time I was currently living, I sighed inaudibly, second-guessing. I could always take a spare afghan from the closet and stake out on the living room couch…

I shrugged. I was already here, so I might as well tuck in. Just as my bottom sank into the mattress, I felt a hand snake out from the covers and languidly stroke the small of my back. I nearly jumped, which caused a soft giggle to emit from the mass of blankets.

“Um, hi.” I said nervously, my face heating up as her cute, tired face peeked out, her warm eyes staring at me.

“Morning.” Was all she said. She continued to analyze me, and I began to grow slightly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. She then smiled softly, an unreadable expression on her features. “You don’t mind if I stay for a while, do you?”

“Eh, no, but you have classes in about…” I looked over at the Hello Kitty clock sitting on my nightstand. “Ten minutes.” I didn’t think that left her much time to run home and change, and I wasn’t sure if students were permitted to wear scanty clothes in class.

She shrugged and responded, “I didn’t feel like listening to Mr. Roe anyway.”

“Suit yourself.” I said awkwardly, getting up again.

“Where’re you going?” She asked as I walked to the doorway. I paused and turned around. I shrugged.

“I figured I’d make some coffee or something.” Even though I didn’t exactly drink coffee. Come to think of it, I don’t think I even owned any of the stuff.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You don’t even like coffee! Rachel, are you feeling alright?” Apparently, she knew me pretty well. I felt my face heat up again. “Yes, you don’t look very well; come back to bed and rest.”

“N-No… I think I’ll be fine.” I protested weakly, backing up until I bumped into the wall. She frowned.

“Is something wrong?”

I desperately wished to say yes! “No.” God damnit, why couldn’t I voice what I was thinking? That would’ve saved me from certain events.

          “Yes, something is wrong,” She sighed, as if she expected this reaction from me the morning-after. She got up slowly from the bed, looking down at her naked form before donning one of my old t-shirts that were on the floor. I watched, mesmerized, as she sidled up to me, her hands folded together in front of her as a nervous gesture.

          “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, Rachel, and I thought you liked me too.” Damn it, she sounded emotional. I hated it when people were about to burst into tears. “After last night… Well, I figured that things would be better between us.”

          “Better?” I asked, finally growing a pair. “I think what you did shouldn’t constitute as ‘making things better’.”

          “But,” She said, eyes widening. “I gave you the opportunity to turn me down.”

          I couldn’t exactly argue with that, considering I didn’t know if the statement was true. “Yeah, but…” I racked my head for some kind of comeback. “You were… distracting.”

          For the first time I’ve known Rosaline, she blushed. I watched her pale skin take on a rosy color, and I thought that she couldn’t look more adorable.

          “That was kind of the point when I bought that at Victoria’s Secret.”

          “You went to a Victoria’s Secret?” I asked, momentarily distracted. Rosaline was pretty much the opposite of a very sexual, very open girl: I always envisioned her avoiding anything relating to sex.

          “Yeah, I was kind of in the scheming mood after you left me last week…” She said, and I was satisfied that she had the decency to sound ashamed.

          “I don’t really like you taking advantage of me, you know,” I said quietly after a short silence passed. Her eyes widened more before she dropped her eyes to the ground in disappointment.

          “I’m sorry if that’s how I was coming off, but,” She paused, licking her lips. I couldn’t help but watch the gesture. “I only wanted to see if you wanted me. I was kind of getting a mixed signal like, a few months after I met you. I already thought you were cute, and I loved your unique, mature, and artistic personality, so I started flirting with you. You noticed that, right?” She asked, blushing again. I nodded, and I was pretty sure I was blushing, too.

          “Well, everything kind of went from there when you didn’t curse me out for adding a libido here and there. I kind of figured that you liked me.” She muttered, fidgeting with her entangled fingers.

          “How did you get ‘I like you’ from how I acted?” I asked, curious. She shrugged.

          “You were always giving me these weird looks, and when I talked with you during lunch or whatever, you were always so enraptured with me. I kind of took those observations as a sign; I guess I assumed you held some kind of attraction for me.”

          She looked like she was being physically punched over and over again, and I felt partly to blame. Hell, I felt like I was delivering blow after blow into her supple, delicious skin. I flushed as a sudden flashback invaded my mind. Actually, I didn’t seem to forget all of last night.

          “I guess I’ll be going then.” She said, and her voice was so depressed, hopeless, and grey that I felt pain.

          “Wait,” I said, grabbing her wrist. She slowly turned around, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side as she looked at me in sad confusion.

          “I do.” At her still-confused features, I added, “Like you. I mean, you’re cute, and,” I was probably a human tomato by now. I managed to grimace, though, to show my disapproval. “I do like you. I just didn’t like how controlling you’ve been lately.”

          “I’m sorry!” She said with heartfelt tears brimming in her eyes. How could I manage to frown at that face?

          There was a kind-of-awkward silence in the next instance, which seemed to upset her more.

          “Look, Rosaline,” I soothed when a tear or two dripped down her one cheek, “It’s fine. What’s done is done, right? I mean, no hard feelings.”

          Still, she continued to weep. Thankfully, she didn’t let out any sobs. I don’t think I could’ve contained myself if she began audibly blubbering.

          “I think bed’s a good idea,” I mumbled, and led her back to the rumpled nest of mine.

          She sighed, but said nothing more as she let me tuck her in. I fell back once she was buried in the covers again, and she reached out to me with her thin arms, wrapping around my middle as she brought herself close. She draped some of the sheets over me, and I adjusted them as she cuddled my torso.

          I figured we’d talk things over later on, but for now, I was tired and Rosaline was already asleep.

Title: The Woodpecker and the Wolf

Classified As: Fan Fiction; Holes

Summary: If there was more to Madame Zeroni's speech present in the movie's flashback...

Rating: K+ (for audiences 12+ only)

Pairing(s): StanleyxZero

Warning(s): Adult themes and content not suited for children. 

“But,” Madame Zeroni added quietly, after cackling madly while saying ‘eternity’. “The ones who break the curse shall be rewarded greatly with the gift of love.”

        She rearranged her colorful shawls around her scraggly frame, and took a few more puffs out of her smoking pipe. She knew it would be many a year before the curse was undone, but she could wait patiently for that day to come.

        So Madame Zeroni remained sitting there, restlessly staring out at the open, lonely desert, singing the tune she told the Yelnats boy to sing to the pig, and eventually sang herself to her final sleep.

        “Thanks for coming over, man,” Stanley said to his friend, Zero, as he attempted to figure out where to put his new stuff. Zero nodded, and tossed his backpack full of clothes and necessities into a corner.

        “No prob, and from the looks of things, you really could use my help,”

        Stanley rolled his eyes in amusement at his smaller friend, and responded.

        “I have no idea where to put anything,”

        “Oh, quit your whining. I’ll help you.”

        “I wasn’t whining.” Stanley argued with a smile. Zero smirked, and raised his eyebrows.

        “Sure. So… where do you want to put this?” He asked, gesturing to an assembled desk. Stanley frowned.

        “I don’t know where I want to put anything.”

        Zero sighed, and looked around, signaling to Stanley to keep quiet for a moment.

        “Okay… you’d be better off with putting the desk about three or four feet from your bed over there,” He pointed.

        “The entertainment center should obviously be over there,”

        He continued to show his helpless friend.

        “And that bench-thing? Put it up against the foot of the bed.”

        “Oh, my hero! What would I do without you?” Stanley joked. Zero sighed dramatically.

        “You would wither away, my poor, defenseless friend,”

        They erupted into a fit of laughter, and once the chuckles died off, Zero looked at Stanley.

        “Wanna play me?”

        Stanley opened and closed his mouth like a flounder, eyes widened.

        “What?” He choked out.

        Zero rolled his chocolate brown, almond shaped eyes. Folding his arms across his chest, he reworded,

        “Want to play a few games against me?” He pointed to the Gamecube sitting next to the television on the floor for more emphasis.

        “Oh!” Stanley blushed. “Sure.”

        Zero raised an eyebrow. “You alright there, Stan?”

        Countless games, two pies of pepperoni-cheese pizza, and several hours later, the two boys sighed as they set down their controllers.

        “It’s one o’clock,” Stanley said tiredly, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “Ready to go to bed yet?”

        Zero nodded wordlessly, too sleepy to respond. They both stumbled up and headed over to the bed.

        Zero was the first to hop into the covers, after stripping down to just his boxers. Stanley gulped as he watched, and averted his eyes.

        “C’mon, caveman,” Zero mumbled, hiding his eyes from the light of the room.

        “One sec,” Stanley told him, and walked over to the light switch.

By the time he got there, he was sure that Zero had fallen asleep.

“If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs,” Stanley swore he heard Zero whisper. He listened silently.

“The bark on the tree were as soft as the skies.”

Stanley couldn’t help himself. As he switched the lights off, he whispered back,

“While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely,”

He quickly took off his shorts and shirt, leaving him in his underwear as well.

As he lay down in bed, wrapping the covers around him, he continued, almost silently,

“He cries to the moon, if only, if only.”

Zero sighed as he watched his friend frown sadly up at the ceiling. His face was glowing in the light of the moon.

In the starry skies, Madame Zeroni watched her young, great-great grandson subtly scoot over to the Yelnats boy’s side, and smiled kindly as Stanley, who thought Zero was sleeping, wrapped his arms around the tiny frame of the smaller boy.

“If only, if only, the moon speaks no reply; reflecting the sun and all that’s gone by. Be strong, my weary wolf, turn around boldly. Fly high, my baby bird, my angel, my only.”

                Her face faded into the glow of the moonlight as she watched the two young men lull themselves to sleep.

---

 Title: A Candlelight in the Darkness

Classified As: Fan Fiction; High School Musical

Summary: After his sister's fatal accident, Ryan is left without his other half. Will someone, anyone, be able to soothe him in his time of need?

Rating: K+ (for mature audiences 12+ only)

Pairing(s): ChadxRyan

Warning(s): Themes, content, and possible language not suited for mature audiences.

August 8th, 2007

Sharpay Evans, a demanding, lively young blonde, had been riding in her signature pink convertible, oblivious to almost everything as she text messaged one of her country club friends with her glitzy pink rhinestone-covered cell phone, when disaster had struck.

She never heard the honking of horns over her blasting pop music, nor did she see the large truck heading straight for her as she swerved into the wrong lane…

…Until it was too late.

She looked up suddenly, and she dropped her cell phone out of shock and gripped the steering wheel, trying her best to quickly turn away, but she was too late. Realizing this, she still desperately attempted to save herself, and just before the collision occurred, she opened her pink glossy lips in the start of a scream.

She never got to scream out, because then, her car was jolted backwards like a small toy, and her vehicle spun into the next lane, where another car smashed into it.

After a few more impacts, the damage was done, and the once-lovely and dent-less pink convertible resembled scrap metal, smashed together accordion-style.

There was no apparent sign that a person was in the car, and only when the authorities took to prying the driver’s side open enough to see the identity of the unlucky driver did the three other Evans get word of their daughter’s/sister’s untimely death.

September 20th, 2007

They say that when one twin loses the other, it’s like having a single person lose part of him or herself. There was no other way to describe the pain, the loneliness and the unfilled gaps that came up in their hearts.

Ryan Evans, the once overly hyper and glowing Drama King of East High, couldn’t agree more. Sure, his sister hadn’t been the most innocent person ever, but he still loved her nonetheless. It was impossible not to; they had came from the same woman, on the same day. They also looked alike, despite the gender gap. Whenever Ryan looked into a mirror now, he only saw the haunting face of his deceased sister, staring blankly back at him.

His usually colorful attire and flamboyant hats were now reduced to a pair of casual jeans and some t-shirt—with no hat to go with the outfit.

And once Sharpay was gone, Ryan hadn’t even glimpsed in the direction of the theater again. East High had lost their most talented actor and actress in the matter of one summer, even though one of the two was still present within its walls.

Everyone looked upon Ryan Evans with pity ever since the word spread around school. It didn’t take long for nearly everyone to know the news; it moved like wildfire. By the third day of school, people had been whispering behind his hunched back.

He didn’t bother eating during lunch, on top of everything else. Instead, he spent his lunch periods sitting out in the grass, laying on his back and staring up at the blue sky. He cursed the Heavens for taking his precious sister away from him when he needed her so, and wondered why it was still sunny when one of the brightest people in his life was gone.

One day, though, during lunch when he was out in his usual spot, he heard the grass ruffling behind him, signaling someone’s entrance on his privacy.

He dully glanced through peripheral vision to see a tall, afro’ed figure hovering uncertainly above him.

“Can I…” the young man trailed off quietly, frowning down at Ryan.

Ryan shrugged noncommittally and closed his eyes. With that, Chad Danforth had lay next to him, their elbows and hips nearly touching as they both stared wordlessly up at the cloudless sky for the whole lunch period.

Every day after that, Chad turned up, asking for Ryan’s permission to join him. Every day, Ryan granted him permission to spend a silent thirty minutes looking at everything and nothing at all with someone who was probably terminally depressed.

Eventually, Chad stopped asking to stay, instead just flopping down onto his back next to Ryan and looking up, up into the skies. Ryan began to wonder why Chad bothered.

One day, much to the basketball player’s surprise, Ryan asked quietly,

“Why?”

That one word could have meant anything, but Chad instinctively understood the incomplete sentence and responded, with an equal hush-hush quality to his voice,

“Because.”

December 19th, 2007

As the days melded into weeks, and those weeks into months, Ryan and Chad grew closer, even though they hardly spoke to each other. When December rolled on by, every contour of their bodies were in contact with the other’s, and Chad had even held Ryan’s limp, cold hand in his own warm, fiery grip.

When Christmastime was on the verge of approaching, Chad surprised Ryan, as well as himself, when, on the final day of school before winter break, he presented the blonde with a present he pulled from his book bag.

It was a rather skinny, long square box, wrapped in baby blue paper and tied with a royal blue velvet bow.

Without a word or sitting up, Ryan slowly and carefully undid the bow, set it aside, and peeled the tape off of the delicate wrapping paper without ripping it.

He got to the white box, and hesitated. Chad nudged him slightly to go on, and Ryan wedged his index finger underneath the lip of the box’s lid, and unhurriedly lifted it off of the bottom half of the package.

Inside, nestled in a nest of glittery white tissue paper, was a lone powdery-lavender hat, innocently contrasting with the snowy color of the tissue paper it sat on.

Ryan was silent, and he looked up at a nervous Chad, questions in his eyes.

“You’re not you without your hats.” He shrugged, barely talking louder than a breeze.

“No,” Ryan whispered, his voice cracking.

“I’m not who I am without my sister.”

He got up, taking the lidless gift box with him as he walked away from school, away from Chad, and away from feeling emotions that were dangerous to feel.

December 24th, 2007

Christmas Eve was a dismal affair for Ryan. His parents had asked him if he wanted to come with them to a friend’s Christmas Soiree, but of course he declined.

He stayed home, alone except for the presence of the maids and butlers, who could have just been called imaginary for how much they made their presence known.

Sitting on the sofa where they used to sit together, Ryan had spent a good part of the evening fighting tears back as he glared at the overly decorated faux silver-and-gold Christmas tree sitting in the corner of the living room.

The cover-bare box sat next to him, the hat still in the same place it was days ago, and Ryan didn’t touch it. The presence of the hat was enough for him and, strangely, it offered a strange, warm sense of comfort for him.

It was just a hat, Ryan knew, but as the popular saying went, it was ‘the thought that counted’. He knew it wasn’t a designer hat, that it couldn’t have cost more than twenty-five dollars, and that it was more likely than not purchased from some retail store, but deep inside himself, the gesture was priceless.

He would occasionally finger the rim of the newsboy-style hat, but he never took it out to put on top of his head. He thought his head would explode from the action.

She had, more often than not, forced him into countless brand name hats, each one having to match both her and his own outfits at once. She had caused him to hold a deep love for the headwear, and she was the reason why he couldn’t let this hat slip onto his head. Not yet, at least… it hurt. It hurt a lot.

That night, after eating maybe a slice of gourmet turkey that tasted like sawdust, and a small helping of plaster-like mashed potatoes that he used to adore, Ryan fell asleep, and dreamed.

He dreamt of his sister, of her smile, of her laughter, of… just of her. He couldn’t ever remember having nighttime visions of Sharpay, even when she was… still with him.

But she was there, even though only in his dreams, and she was telling him something. What did she say? Ryan forced himself to listen closer to what she was mouthing to him.

“Ry… I’m fine now.”

She had a lovely, form-fitting white dress, a sleeveless one that had its ends trailing on the ground, and it had lovely, shimmering diamond-and-gold-thread accents on it. he had never seen any high-class dress look so magnificent.

She smiled at him, her face glowing like it was radiating light from her pores, and her eyes gazed knowingly into his own.

“You can let go.”

He felt himself tear up, and it felt like a thousand knives were being driven through his heart, which refused to cease beating through the torture. He crumpled to the ground, silently shaking his head.

She was frowning now, which didn’t look at home on her angelic face.

“Ryan, I’ll always be dead to you, at least while you’re still alive, but I’ll never be completely gone.”

She placed a soft, creamy hand on his chest where his heart was still throbbing, and smiled softly at him.

“I love you, Ry, and I know you love me too, so you need to get back into the game of life. For me.”

At that, he smiled up at her, no matter how hard it seemed. She smiled back, and then suddenly, a mischievous grin spread across her face.

“Plus, we can’t have those amateurs stealing the spotlight during your last year at East High now, can we?”

He smirked, but nodded anyway.

“But Shar…” He said, speaking for the first time in his dreams.

“Will I ever see you again? You know, like this?” He gestured around the hazy Dream World, and she looked around with him.

“Hmm… I imagine so. It took me so long to get to you because there was an extremely long line to that Big Stage in the Sky, you know, the usual spiel. Apparently, the Evans name doesn’t help you skip ahead through the golden gates.” She rolled her eyes, smiling playfully.

He smiled genuinely at her, and her smile softened. She petted him on the head, and turned around. Before leaving him completely, she craned her head over her shoulders, and winked.

“I’m sure Chad would love to see you in that hat of yours.”

He blushed, but before he could say a proper goodbye to his sister, she whispered.

“Never say goodbye, Ryan.”

December 25th, 2007(That Morning)

It echoed in his head like church bells as he opened his eyes that Christmas Morning. Suddenly, a grin sprang across his features, and he got up and out of the covers. Apparently, someone had tucked him into his bed late last night, because he didn’t remember getting under the covers at all.

He looked down on the floor, where Chad’s gift lay in the box. He lifted it carefully up and out of the paper, and brushed off a few stray bits of glitter before experimentally placing it on his head. He smiled then, and lovingly put it down on his pillow before opening his door and running out into the fireplace-warmed living room.

“Momsy, Daddy!” He called excitedly.

It felt so foreign to sound so happy, but he welcomed the good kind of foreign to his system.

His two parents, who had been talking to each other quietly while sipping mugs of hot cocoa (even though the New Mexico weather didn’t exactly call for the hot beverages), widened their eyes at their son’s speedy arrival. They had seconds to place down their mugs before they got their arms full of Ryan, who was hugging them tightly back.

“Merry Christmas.” He said quietly, and got back up, grinning a mega-watt smile.

Although they were very confused and bewildered, they smiled warmly back at him. He turned to the Christmas tree, and knelt down to open the smaller piles of presents he got this year. Mr. And Mrs. Evans looked to each other, questioningly, before shrugging and smiling. Christmastime, they thought, was a time for miracles. Who were they to deny such a gift?

January 2nd, 2008

The first day of school after the long winter break found Ryan dressed in a new, soft pink silk shirt with a pair of pressed black trousers. Although a hat was still absent on his head, he carried a soft grey cap in his hands.

He smiled uncomfortably at those around him, shocking everyone even more. Mrs. Darbus, with a surprised smile, bent down and patted him on the head.

“Wonderful to see that dreary storm cloud pass over; now we can have our star actor take up the stage again in time for the Spring Musicale! Surely, you’re interested?” She walked over to her desk and spent the remainder of homeroom babbling on and on about the evils of cell phones and such, and Ryan never felt so warm and comfortable since Sharpay had left him.

During lunch, even though he didn’t feel like having a depressing affair contemplating the clouds, he still came. Sitting in a lotus position on the crisp green grass, he closed his eyes and searched for his Inner Peace, an act he hadn’t done in ages. The cap he’d gotten from Chad was balanced on his knee.

He opened his eyes at the sound of approaching footsteps, and smiled hesitantly up at Chad.

“Hey.” He said quietly.

“Hi,” Chad’s eyes widened as he returned the greeting.

“Look, I’m sorry. I should’ve never gotten you that hat. I should have known it was a bad idea.” He said guiltily, looking at a passing blue truck.

Ryan placed a hand on Chad’s shoulders, much to the jock’s surprise, and smiled before hugging him. Chad coughed awkwardly, but returned the hug, wrapping his large arms around Ryan’s small body.

“Thank you, for giving me that.” Ryan whispered. He smiled at Chad once they parted, tears shining in his eyes. After a moment of unease, Chad smiled warmly at him.

“You’re not Ryan Evans without your hats,” He repeated lovingly, and took the hat Ryan was holding from him and adjusted it on Ryan’s head. His fingers lingered on Ryan’s cheeks, and Chad let them rest on Ryan’s small shoulders.

Instead of taking the hat off, or fixing it because it was slightly crooked on his head, Ryan looked expectantly up at Chad, his eyes half-lidded, before the frizzy-haired darker boy leaned down and captured Ryan’s rosebud-pink lips with his own.

April 10th, 2008

“Now I know what it’s like to be loved,” Ryan stated warmly, and in the front of the rows of people in the auditorium, Mrs. Darbus, complete with her handkerchief and shining eyes, mouthed the words with him.

The audience, so caught up in the moment remained silent for a moment, before they all erupted in applaud, some laughing through tears and others whistling and whooping.

Ryan grinned out at the auditorium, and bowed, accepting a bouquet of Ryan's favorite flowers (light purple lilacs, pastel pink rosebuds, and tiny daisies) from a grinning Chad before the curtains were pulled closed.

Later on, when the musicale was well over, Ryan sat in Chad’s lap, cradled in a comforting, pleasant and warm embrace. The flowers sat in a water-filled vase, giving off a very enticing, perfume-like aroma.

“You were great,” Chad whispered in his ear for the thousandth time that night, and when Ryan told him that, Chad chuckled but never stopped giving him occasional pecks on the cheeks. And cuddles.

“I love you,” He sighed out suddenly, surprising both himself and Ryan. Turning slowly, with wide eyes, Ryan stuttered,

“W-What?”

“I love you.” Chad blinked, as if instinctively saying it. He repeated it a few more times, experimenting how the sentence rolled off of his tongue so well, and grinned up at a teary-eyed, equally-happy Ryan.

“I love you too,” And with that, they closed their eyes and kissed, identical smiles on their faces.

“Get a room,” Sharpay teased lovingly from above, peering down through a cloud.

Title: Into the Future

Classified As: Fan Fiction; Jimmy Neutron

Summary: After the episode "The Tomorrow Boys'. Cindy forces Jimmy to take her to the future, to see what her future-self is up to.

Rating: K (for audiences 10+)

Pairing(s): JimmyxCindy

Warning(s): Extremely mild heterosexual kissing.

After the big fiasco that occurred during Libby’s birthday party, Jimmy Neutron trudged home, tired to the very marrow in his bones. His robotic dog, Goddard, was eagerly bounding beside him, barking at squirrels and eating some tin cans he found lying around. Jimmy didn’t have the energy to stop him from eating things off the dirty roadside, so he let his dog be.

He quickly plucked out a hair from his head when he got to his clubhouse, and then was sent down into his lab. He slowly sank down into his lab chair, and closed his eyes, exhaling. He still had that essence of lavender for Libby…

His thoughts drifted over to what he saw in the deranged future he, Carl, and Sheen had just fixed. The no-science-present in his future was astounding, but what caught Jimmy off guard was the future-Jimmy’s wife. Cindy? Eugh, he shuddered just thinking about it! Sure, sometimes he though Cindy Vortex was… pretty… but that didn’t mean he was ready to give up years of rivalry and dislike to make kissy-faces at her!

He was just dozing off when his security system alerted him of another person on the premises. He tapped into the cameras outside of the clubhouse, and saw Cindy banging relentlessly on the wooden door. She would pummel it down in any minute if Jimmy didn’t step in. He sighed, and pressed a button to bring Cindy down into his lab. She landed rather roughly on her backside, and yelled out, quickly jumping up and rubbing the offended area.

“Nerdtron, you could give a girl a warning, you know!” she hissed, glaring slightly at him. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I could have. What do you want?”

“I came here to see something. I got it out of Sheen that you had made an invention that could take you to the future, and he said something about me being in the future when you two went there. I wanted to check it out.” She said. She was more demanding it than asking Jimmy, he vaguely noticed.

“We changed the future, though. When Carl accidentally gave Libby my experimental formula that altered the future. We went there after that, and then we would up fixing the future again. I don’t know if you’re even still existing in the future.” Jimmy said scathingly, narrowing his eyes at her. She rolled her blue eyes up, and huffed, placing her hands on her hips.

“I’d like to see for myself, thank you very much.”

“And what if I said no?” Jimmy ventured, and Cindy laughed.

“I’ve got blackmail on you, Nerdtron. No one at Libby’s party knew what happened to their gifts, or who destroyed them for that matter. I could easily let it slip…” she trailed off, gesturing with her hand in mid-air. Jimmy sighed in frustration and cursed every planet he knew of as he reluctantly took out the remote control for the portal to the future.

“Come on, I’ll come with you so you don’t screw anything up, or even worse, get stuck in the future,” Jimmy muttered the last part sarcastically, and Cindy glared at him. He ignored her, and pressed a few buttons, turned a few dials, and pulled a few sticks before the portal showed the futuristic Retroville. Cindy looked with rapt interest at all of the floating people and hovercrafts.

“Cool,” she said, and Jimmy rolled his eyes, deciding not to comment.

“Just walk through it with me. Come on,” He pulled her by the hand through the portal, and they were transported into the future. They were almost run over by a large robot, which screamed at them to watch where they were going, and Cindy stuck her tongue out at its back as it retreated.

“First I’ll check with my future self to see if the future was changed, which I expect it was,” he said with no doubt, and Cindy looked thoughtful.

“What was the other future like, when Libby was the ruler or whatever?”

“You don’t need to know, and I never expect to tell you about it.” Jimmy said with defiance, and Cindy glared at him, but didn’t say anything else.

He walked to his parents’ old house, and knocked on the door. He knew his parents had moved to somewhere else once they were both old enough to retire, and Jimmy figured his future-self had bought the house from them. His predictions were proven correct, and a taller version of him, with a different, less exaggerated hairstyle answered the door, smiling down at the both of them in mild interest.

“Why hello there, I expect you’re the me from the past?” The future-Jimmy asked, looking down at Jimmy. Jimmy smiled at his future-self and nodded.

“This is Cindy Vortex, from the past. You know, that annoying, big-mouthed female?” Jimmy said tastelessly, and Cindy blushed, shoving Jimmy as she said,

“Nerdtron, your stupid mouth is huger than mine, and your head is too, for that matter!” she kicked him in the shin for good measure. The future-Jimmy chuckled in amusement, and invited the two of them into his parlor.

“Just a sec, I’m sure the two of you would like to meet someone,” he said mysteriously, a twinkle in his dark brown eyes. Jimmy and Cindy looked at each other with confusion, and shrugged. They sat on a large couch, as far away from each other as possible, and waited impatiently for the future-Jimmy to get back.

Looking around the room, everything had a homey yet modern taste to it. There was a crème leather sofa set: two recliners and the couch they were sitting on, some wall-lamps, a few paintings, and a beautiful dark wood coffee table that looked hand carved.

“Over here, sweetheart,” They both heard the future-Jimmy say, and craned their necks to see who was coming along with the man.

Jimmy walked in first, and a hand was in his own, a lovely single diamond wedding ring on the person’s pale hand.

An older Cindy Vortex walked in, looking much different than the last time Jimmy saw her in the future. She was taller, more curved, and her hair was down, framing her pale, angled face. She had a small smile on her powdery-pink lips, and she wore a light shade of purple eye shadow on each eyelid.

“Oh! Would you look at that!” The older Cindy said, and her voice was slightly deeper than the younger Cindy’s was. Cindy only stared at her future self, confusion etched on her face. Jimmy, on the other side of the couch, shouted out in surprise.

“I don’t get it! We changed the future, how could I still be married to Vortex in the future?” Jimmy asked no one in particular.

The older pair shrugged.

“I guess we just always liked each other, beneath all of that competition and abhorrence.” The elder-Jimmy said.

The four heard a squeal from the other room, and light footsteps coming from somewhere else in the house.

“Is that an experiment of… yours… or something?” Jimmy asked faintly, blinking.

The more mature Cindy giggled in hilarity, and shook her head.

“Not an experiment, per se…”

She quickly turned and walked down the hallway, and the younger Jimmy and Cindy remained silent, trying to contemplate what surprise was next.

A small, cherubic baby with flushed, plump cheeks and a small, toothless smile, as well as a head of fuzzy blonde hair and hazel green-brown eyes, sat in the arms of the future-Cindy. Jimmy and Cindy stared at the baby.

“Tell me you adopted, tell me you adopted…” Cindy pleaded, looking aghast.

“Nope,” The future woman smiled lovingly at the small girl in her arms. She walked over to the two on the couch, her husband following behind her, and sat between the two of them. The future Jimmy stood off to the side next to the younger Jimmy.

“This here is little Claire,” Cindy said happily, and the baby looked up, recognizing her name being called, though she didn’t look more than a year or so old. She giggled and clapped her hands together, and Cindy chuckled, tickling the baby’s little smooth arm. She turned to the younger version of herself, and asked,

“Would you like to hold her?”

Cindy stared, wide-eyed, at the small baby she would give birth to in the future. Three pairs of eyes watched her in anticipation. She hesitantly nodded, and the older Cindy carefully placed the baby in the other’s open arms.

Cindy held the little baby to her chest, and examined it while the little girl did the same to her. She gave a tiny smile when Claire grabbed at one of her fingers and squeezed it.

“She’s cute… When was she born?” She asked the woman next to her, and the two Jimmys watched as they conversed.

“January eighth, two years ago,” Cindy recited, gently playing with the baby’s small head of hair.

The older Jimmy signaled to his younger counterpart, and the two went out of the parlor and into what looked to be the kitchen.

“So, what do you think?” The older Jimmy asked, sitting on a kitchen chair. The other Jimmy coughed, and looked to the side.

“I didn’t’ expect this to happen,” was all he could say. The other Jimmy laughed, and patted the shorter kid’s shoulder.

“I didn’t either. But it’s a wonderful surprise, I’ll give you that much,” he said warmly, looking longingly at the other room where the girls were.

“But why? Why her?” Jimmy pressured, looking interested.

“Because I love her,” he said simply, impulsively. The young Jimmy paled considerably, and gulped, trying to get enough air to form a coherent sentence.

“L-You… love?” Was all he could come up with. The other Jimmy nodded instantly, without hesitation.

“Of course I do. She’s my wife, my best friend, the mother of my lovely daughter, and everything else I wished for,” he rambled, smiling like a lovesick goon. The younger Jimmy shuddered.

“Look, you won’t understand or believe any of this right now, but in the future, it won’t look like such a bad idea after all.” He said quietly, and the other Jimmy only nodded, accepting his older self’s answer. It was James Neutron he was talking to after all, the one scientific genius who earned tons of Nobel Prizes.

“So… how many Nobel’s do you have so far?” Jimmy asked, eager to talk about a different topic. The older Jimmy laughed out loud.

After hours of staying in the future, Jimmy and Cindy bade their future persons goodbye, and used the future Jimmy’s portal to transfer themselves back in time. When they were back in Jimmy’s laboratory, the room was filled with an awkward silence, only interrupted by the sounds of experiments and computers buzzing or bubbling. The two stared at anything but the other.

“So…” Jimmy started lamely, fiddling with his fingers.

Cindy looked at him, a blush staining her cheeks.

“I guess I should be going.” They both nodded, and Jimmy led her to the exit. Right before he sent her back outside, she quickly pecked him on the cheek. Jimmy was open-mouthed, and he watched blankly as Cindy quickly made her way back to her house from the camera. He slowly touched his cheek with his hand, right where Cindy’s lips had kissed him. The spot felt tingly, as if she’d paralyzed that part of his face. Suddenly, a ridiculous grin broke out on his face, and smirked as Cindy, face as red as ever, was about to open the door to her house when Libby stopped her, looking curious.

Maybe the future him wasn’t so crazy after all.