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    • stop harshing my vibes with your murder

      stop harshing my vibes with your murder Cover
      by Monochromatic Rarity Belle liked to think she deserved a great life.  She was an up-and-coming designer; she’d graduated from school with honors, been hired immediately after a successful internship with a prestigious designer, and rented a one-bedroom apartment in the city without a guarantor—she was, by and large, successful. She was supposed to be living her best life.  She was living her best life, she thought to herself, staring down at the sketchbook on her desk inside her private…
    • maybe death is like falling asleep [timeline: time between TEL and TEK]

      maybe death is like falling asleep [timeline: time between TEL and TEK] Cover
      by Monochromatic Death was not like Twilight had expected it.  I suppose that’s because she couldn’t expect much at all, wandering her library, eyes blacker than a starless, moonless night.  This was, after all, what my beloved wanted. This was, after all, what was right, what she deserved. Peace, her endless thoughts so distant and quiet, everything mattering so, so very little.  High above, past bookcases gathering dust, hung a chandelier, illuminating the room. She stared up at it, and then…
    • it’s not that i’m bi

      it’s not that i’m bi Cover
      by Monochromatic “Applejack,” Rarity said, nursing a drink as clubgoers walked past their table, “I shouldn’t be here.” “What?” Applejack said, putting down her beer. “You’d rather be at home crying in bed over whats-his-name?” “We were together five years, Applejack,” Rarity replied, privately relieved that saying it aloud hadn’t drawn out tears then. Every second, she thought of him. Every stupid, quiet moment, she thought of him. God, she was tired of it. Her eyes lingered on two men…
    • who needs an algorithm

      who needs an algorithm Cover
      by Monochromatic They had a whole needlessly complicated system now. They could text. They could DM on PictoGram. Twilight would even go as far as being okay with calling—like the old times!--but she’d quickly learned Rarity Belle liked doing things her way. First, she ‘politely’ knocked (see: insistently and impatiently knocked) her fist on the wall her bedroom shared with Twilight’s office nook, like so: THONK THONK THONK! Twilight looked up from the three-hour video essay she was forty minutes…
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