Short Stories
 | How Luke Got his Groove InitiallyWell, you’ll never believe this, but the Buzz that you’re talking to now used to be just plain old yellow. And not just any yellow! Oh, no. I’m talkin’ about that nasty, putrid yellow that you see oozing off of a rancid can of Achyfi. This is a story, well, actually, my story, of how I became this beautiful snowy bug that you know today.<
by xxsicklullabiesxx |  | A Journey In FriendshipZilean, an older Pirate Krawk and an eccentric sorcerer who calls a clock tower his home, had always had an obsession with time travel. After countless years and failed attempts, he was finally successful at designing an enchantment that made it possible to travel in time. The enchantment took the form of a glowing orb that emitted a green smoke so thick it could fill your lungs. All Zilean had to do was close his eyes, imagine where and when he wanted to go, reach out, and touch the orb.
by painted_dreams87 |  | Cafeteria Food"Look," Starry said. "It has nothing to do with a lack of ability to make potions, to teach, et cetera- It's that you're saying it's at school. Our school." Chris sat down on an orange, hovering Virtupets bed. Slowly, he nodded. "You're right. That'd be terrible." "But I am a terrible person. School starts in two weeks. See you then."
by forestfleet |  | The Perk Of Being A PlushieThey even shared the same goal: to be able to buy a paint brush and get painted. The girls did not know what kind of paint brush they wanted, they just knew that nothing would make them happier than to be painted.
by she_chose_love |  | The Inventor's Craft"What? Nothing changed." Mira responded with a roll of her eyes. "But don’t you see, it worked!" the young faerie beside her spoke with the same enthusiasm as the Neopet inventor. Her brown dress was quite plain for a faerie. Then again, Kreludor isn't a place to be one's fanciest attire on. Especially with the places that she and Mira had been visiting.
by artsy_insanity |
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"Cafeteria Food" by forestfleet
Chris burst through the door. "I've got a job!" he shouted.
Starry, the blue lupe, sipped tea while she sat behind the small green coffee table. "I suppose anyone can get a job these days."
Redwhisper, the red Scorchio, looked over from his stone chair. "Cool. What's the job?"
"Your Neoschool teacher, teaching Science."
"And now you lost me!"
"What?" Chris asked, shaking his head. "Back during the Fall of Faerieland I was making healing potions! Ones that weren't particularly potent, but I digress."
"Look," Starry said. "It has nothing to do with a lack of ability to make potions, to teach, et cetera- It's that you're saying it's at school. Our school."
Chris sat down on an orange, hovering Virtupets bed. Slowly, he nodded. "You're right. That'd be terrible."
"Thank you!" Starry sighed.
"But I am a terrible person. School starts in two weeks. See you then."
Starry bit her lower lip. The Scorchio shot a concerned glance at her, and she returned a nervous smile.
Other Stories
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 Reselling: How to Make a Profit Off of Patience
Whenever you ask a Neopian how they make their neopoints, they usually tell you that they restock, play games, fight in the Battledome, invest in the Stock Market, or a bit of everything. However, most people don’t know that there is another method of making neopoints that’s based on a good eye for value, a bit of elbow grease, and lots of patience. This practice is called reselling.
by mellygirl123 |
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 Common Myths About Writing for the Neopian Times
I happened upon a few topics discussing rumors about how to get published into the Neopian Times. These comments intrigued me, so after I scribbled down a list of the most common ones, I poured myself a sixth cup of coffee, and left for the Neopian Times headquarters to see for myself if they were accurate or not.
by amarettoball |
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 Bottled Faeries Inc.: Part Four
“Well,” I said, adjusting the brim of my sunhat to block out the harsh sunrays, “this was probably the worse thing that could have happened.” Soon after Marty and I had fled Jhuidah’s cooking pot, I had received a neomail. The small, enchanted yellow envelope had repeatedly jammed itself against my thigh until, grudgingly, I had plucked it from the air and opened it.
by vanessa1357924680 |
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