Week - 531 Five Reasons Why Villains Live To Plot Evil by cherishtwilight

Description: Villains. A good plot can't be without them.

Week - 541 Seven Types Of Heroes In Neopia by cherishtwilight

Description: From the beginning of time, heroes have always been saving the world with their good deeds both big and small. But the big question is: do we really know everything about them?

Week - 551 Cryptic & Elusive: Mr. Krawley by cherishtwilight

Description: The story took place a long time ago, and in the end the whole town was freed. Everyone's happy, right? WRONG.

Week - 565 A Guide To Alternative Paint Brushing by cherishtwilight

Description: When you finally have enough, you buy a White Paint Brush on the Trading Post for a reasonable price, your hard work finally paid off. That is, until you see the Christmas Zafara your friend has.

Week - 566 Have Hope by cherishtwilight

Description: Kale Xadum and Bella Chorsicks walked along the cobblestoned roads, enduring the misfortune and awkwardness of a conversation for a conversation's sake.

Week - 568 Spells, Flames, Illusions by cherishtwilight

Description: "There's no such thing as ghosts! Why, I went to that graveyard outside of town and I certainly didn't see any ghosts."

Week - 699 The Free by cherishtwilight

Description: Good Doctor, I recognize your name in the more sinister spaces of Neovia. It seems I’m unable to turn my troubles to any of my companions without having your notoriety run through the atmosphere. Thus, though as a proper Neovian I should be avoiding this entirely, I have decided to conspire with the forbidden.

Week - 700 The Painted Weewoo and the Maraquan Dillema by cherishtwilight

Description: “Boss. Boss, something’s happened.” “What is it, you nitwits?” the shuffling of feathers. A Weewoo in a suit and tie, eliminating evidence of pastry crumbs and red jam. “I’m busy.” Also by lute248

Week - 707 Something I Don't Already Know by cherishtwilight

Description: “Why is it that every time these twin Wockies organize a parade, we’re the ones sent to clean after it?” “Shut up and get to work, Cornelius,” Carmichael glared at the Werelupe, pulling off the latex gloves from her fingers. The ghost Xweetok groaned, tying her hair in a bun. Her translucent face was stained with flaked skin and red spots, her Howie coat unbuttoned and in a state of disarray.