Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fluttershy sat quietly in the corner of the shelter’s small office, the afternoon light filtering softly through the dusty windowpanes. Her hands rested gently on her lap, but her eyes were distant, unfocused. Drifting somewhere far away from the smell of cat food and the faint rustling of animal cages.

She pictured herself outside, just beyond the shelter’s walls, where the wind tangled with the leaves and the sky stretched wide and endless. Somewhere nearby, a raspy, strong voice was laughing, blending in perfectly with the orange hue left by the sunset. Fluttershy imagined the way the girl’s magenta eyes would catch the light when she smiled, the confident tilt of her head as she ran along the grass, challenging the wind itself.

Her chest warmed at the thought, a quiet happiness blooming inside her, fragile and shimmering.

A sudden, yet easy tap on her shoulder pulled her out of her spell.

Flutterhy’s long, pink hair swayed as she turned toward the culprit, a tall girl with vermillion locs and an easy grin. Treehugger stepped beside her now, holding up her vibrating phone insistently, its screen lighting up with the familiar logo of a group chat. “Facetime call, Fluttershy.”

“Oh, yes, thanks.”

Rarity appears first, fresh blowout and angled camera starkly contrasting the pile of fabric, thread, and hangers on the bed behind her.

“Darling, finally. I’ve been texting for twenty minutes. Is everyone else here? This is urgent.”

A low, teasing voice joins in, lying on her bed, earbuds in. “Did someone die or is this about shoes again?” Sunset squints at the screen.

“Costumes, Sunset. For the Instagram shoot! We have barely two weeks, and I have nothing finalized, and I ordered an extra box of tulle instead of lace by accident and I’m simply drowning in it-”

“You’re the one drownin’ in tulle, Rares. We’re just wearin’ it.” Applejack interrupts, her camera tilted low like she just set the phone on a workbench. She’s clearly outside somewhere, sweat running down flushed cheeks.

“Oooh! Does the tulle come in pink?” Pinkie interjects from off-camera, phone placed on a granite bakery counter, catching the sounds of an electric whisk.

“Darling, no one is wearing tulle. Not even in pink.”

“Okay, so what’s the actual crisis here? Do you want us to vote or…?” Twilight trails off, half-laughing, half hiding it by faux-pushing up her glasses.

Rarity huffs, pulling two mannequins into frame. “Okay, these are my two front-runners for fabric combinations. Option A: sleek black with silver accents. Very edgy, very professional. Think ‘mysterious indie band you hear in a cafe’. And Option B: soft purples and blues, a little flowy, layered textures. Dreamy. Romantic. A bit retro-fantasy.”

“Option B looks like I’m fixin’ to enter a county fair beauty pageant, Rares.”

“Applejack!”

Twilight is serious now, narrowing her eyes at the screen. “I actually think Option B is more interesting. Less... serious.”

“But we are serious, darling. Fluttershy! Please, tie-breaker.”

Fluttershy gently leans back against the wall now, hugging her knees against herself. “Oh. I think they’re both beautiful, Rarity.”

“But if you had to choose?”

Fluttershy glances briefly at Rarity’s screen again, then toward Rainbow Dash’s darkened square and muted symbol. Still no sign of her.

“Well, I suppose… maybe Option B? The softer one. It feels more like us.” She stated decisively.

“You sayin’ I’m soft?” Applejack raised a playful eyebrow.

“Thank you, Fluttershy.” Rarity clapped her hands smugly. “It’s the visionary one, truly.”

Finally, with a groan and some rattling, the square on the bottom right of Fluttershy’s phone lights up. Rainbow Dash, lying down in a hammock, phone resting on her stomach. “Wait, what are we talking about? Is this about Pre-Calc or something?”

“No, Rainbow Dash.” Rarity gritted her teeth. “We are discussing the costume direction for our shoot.”

Rainbow blinked slowly. “Oh. Cool. I dunno. The black one looks fire.”

“And the other one doesn’t?” Rarity pouted.

“Didn’t say that. Just, like, the black one looks like something I’d actually wear.”

Fluttershy’s feel a twinge at the bottom of her cheeks, just slightly. She purses her lips.

“Two votes for A, two for B. Pinkie?”

“Busy!” The baker cried, still out of frame.

Rarity sighed, massaging her temples. “Useless. All of you.” She pushes the mannequins away dramatically, hands twitching. “I’ll figure it out myself. I always do.”

“Atta girl, sweetheart. Have fun wranglin’ the chaos.” Applejack grinned.

“Oh, I shall.”

Twilight shook her head opening her laptop. “Okay, since we’re all here… can we also talk about the setlist for our upcoming gig?” Rainbow Dash sits up fast.

“ Wait. I thought I was picking the setlist—”

“Nope!” Sunset cuts her off. “You picked last time. We’re rotating now, remember?”

The girls continue bickering, suggesting everything from the band’s slow ballads to three-minute punk chaos tracks. Fluttershy slips quietly into the background of the conversation, watching a certain athlete laugh, half-listening, her smile barely visible but still there.

“We need at least one slower song to balance the energy.” Twilight asserted. “We can’t open and close with power chords and expect emotional resonance.”

Rainbow Dash rolls her eyes. “Who says we can’t? That’s literally what all the greats did!”

Fluttershy shifted uncomfortably against the corner. The sun was setting now, with darkness wafting into the room, daintily illuminated by the soft lighting of the shelter. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to.

Because her attention is locked, fully and completely, on her.

The camera on Dash’s side is still slightly tilted, showing her hammock rocking lazily in the background, the shadows of oak trees across her hoodie. Her expression is electric, hands moving as she argues her case for faster, louder, cooler songs. “Okay, hear me out. We kick it off with “Lightning Back,” go straight into “No Time to Think,” then slow it just a little with “Moonset,” and bring it home with the guitar solo in “The Reins.”

She grins, proud of herself. Smug, even. But not in a mean way. Just unapologetically confident. Fluttershy finds herself smiling. It’s small and soft, like a secret. She tucks her chin down, hoping the others won’t notice.

She wishes she could speak up and suggest one of the gentler songs she wrote in her journal last month. But her voice feels stuck. Not because she’s afraid of disagreement, but because Rainbow might not like it. Might think it’s too slow, too soft, too her.

She watches the way Rainbow pushes a hand through her hair mid-sentence, strands falling back out of place. The way she frowns in concentration when trying to remember a lyric, or leans too close to the camera when she's excited. Like she's perfectly comfortable within a spotlight of her own making.

Something in Fluttershy’s chest folds over itself, warm and aching at the same time.

“Fluttershy, darling? What do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet again.”

Startled, Fluttershy’s eyes flick back to the full grid of their call. The girls are watching her now, Rainbow included- a little sideways in her hammock now, chin in her palm, lazy grin waiting.

Fluttershy took a breath. “I think whatever we play will be great. Our last few shows have been amazing, I feel like.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve heard all week.”

“And also the damned sweetest.” Applejack smiled warmly. Rarity nods in agreement.

“I second what she said. Oh, and if we do go with “The Reins,” I have just the perfect belt to match.”

Rainbow Dash’s mouth twitches into a faint upside-down smile, slightly amused. “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

Fluttershy quickly looks away from the screen, heart tripping over itself.

Twilight nods, closing her laptop down. “Alright, I’ll draft a practice schedule for this week. Rarity, don’t murder us over costume fittings, please?”

“Darling, I would never. Unless someone shows up in cargo shorts.”

Applejack’s eyes meet the screen in a serious deadpan. “Hey, now.”

Already halfway off the screen, Rarity begins stacking various sketchbooks. “I’ll have sketches to show by next practice. I expect enthusiasm.”

Fluttershy stifles a yawn, standing up now. “Thank you, Rarity… goodnight, everyone.”

“Later, Shy.” Rainbow replies casually. But it makes Fluttershy freeze for a second. The nickname, so easy, so familiar.

Then the call ends.

Fluttershy’s daze was broken when she heard the shuffling of Treehugger placing her card in her folder, officially clocking out for the day. She turned to Fluttershy then, picking up her tote bag and sliding it on easily. “You okay? You’ve been real spacey today, dude.”

Blushing now, Fluttershy carefully walks across the room to end her shift as well. “Oh, yes, I just—got caught up in some thoughts.”

Treehugger chuckled softly, leaning against the front desk. “Thoughts can be good. Need a ride home?”

Fluttershy smiled softly, sliding her phone into her pocket. “Oh gosh, yes please.”

Outside, the nighttime sky had faded into a velvet blue, stretching long shadows across the sidewalk. Treehugger’s old, moss-colored van sat under a jacaranda tree, still dotted with a few wilted blossoms from last week’s bloom. Fluttershy climbed into the passenger seat and hugged her bag close to her chest, letting the familiar rhythm of Treehugger’s music and the rattle of the van lull her into a quieter headspace.

They didn’t talk much. They never really had to. Between Treehugger’s comfortability in silence, and Fluttershy’s aversion to conversation, the duo connected naturally since meeting through the shelter freshman year.

After driving down a few streets, Treehugger pulled up outside Fluttershy’s small house, nestled just outside the edge of town. The porch lights weren’t on yet, and the air had cooled just enough to smell faintly of damp leaves.

“Thanks again,” Fluttershy said, already unbuckling.

“Don’t forget to drink water and breathe deep,” Treehugger replied, offering a lazy wave as Fluttershy slid the door closed behind her. “You’ve got that foggy energy today.”

Fluttershy nodded. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

The van trundled off down the street, and Fluttershy stood alone for a moment, the silence suddenly much heavier. She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Her home was quiet, her parents out at dinner and Zephyr spending the evening with his art club. The soft patter of Angel hopping to meet her at the threshold of his cage broke the silence, clearly displeased that dinner was late.

“I’m sorry, Angel,” she murmured, setting her bag down and scooping him gently into her arms. “I’ll get your food now.”

She went through the motions easily: feed Angel, check on the rest of the animals, and light a candle. Everything was soft, practiced. But the quiet never left. If anything, it grew louder. Once the house was settled, she slipped into her room and shut the door behind her. The fading light brushed over the pastel walls and the stack of books by her bedside.

She crossed to the closet.

Her heart picked up speed, just a little.

Beneath a folded fleece blanket and a cardboard box of old journals, she found the loose panel near the back. Lifting the wood, she pulled out the small, wooden box and carried it gently to the bed.

She sat cross-legged, careful, like she might break something invisible if she moved too fast.
The box clicked open. Inside, the letters sat exactly as she left them. Five total, each tucked neatly into painted envelopes, worn soft at the edges from being handled too many times.

She reached for the one on top. Her fingers brushed over her own handwriting: written in careful calligraphy, soft ink still faintly catching the light.

The last one of five letters, all for her.

She’d never meant to write so many, not at first. The first one had happened freshman year. The second, a year later, after the friend group’s end-of-year sleepover. The third came the summer before junior year, and the fourth sometime last spring, when Fluttershy caught herself smiling at her during band practice, secretly wishing she could watch the guitarist from the audience, just once. And now this one.

She never sent them. Of course she didn’t. They were for her eyes only, to take some of the weight away from her feelings.

The latest letter was only a few days old. She hadn’t even looked at it since she wrote it, not really. Tonight, though, the house was still, the candle on her desk flickered steady, and Fluttershy felt an unusual wave of courage. So, she unfolded it.

The paper had a small wrinkle near the edge from where her hand had trembled. The ink—a dusty pink—was her favorite. She only used it when she meant every word.

First of all, I can’t believe you slept through the chemistry test today. Even after Twilight sent us all of those mnemonics and flashcards. I was sitting there, panicking that something really bad happened for the first twenty minutes, while you were out cold. I hadn’t even picked up my pencil!

You always act like you don’t care about any of it. And maybe part of you doesn’t. But you’re a smart person, I know it. You’re the one who writes the biggest songs for the band, the one who’s won MVP twice in a row, even without being captain. And still, you act like you don’t feel any of it, like it’s natural for you. Like you don’t put any work in.

Do you know that I know you, Rainbow Dash? That I see you? Do you know that every time you shrug, that you swiftly sling your bag off of your shoulder, I have to stop myself from running after you, begging to know what you’re thinking? It’s like you only make the surface of yourself available to the outside world, and it’s infuriating.

I’m not only mad at you. I’m mad because I think I love you in the way I probably shouldn’t. The way where I can’t look at you for too long without feeling like the floor’s going to fall out from under me.

I know this isn’t supposed to happen. Especially because I know the look someone has in their eyes when they have feelings for someone else. The look you wear at every soccer practice, every game, every after-party when you and Spitfire team up for beer pong while I watch you from the stairs.

That’s why you can never know. And you won’t know. You’ll never find out that I love you, Rainbow Dash, so much it hurts.
Yours,
Fluttershy

She folded the letter with great care, smoothing the paper where her thumb had lingered too long.

The night outside had fallen completely now, quiet and warm, the smell of honeysuckle drifting through the slightly cracked window.

Fluttershy didn’t cry. But she did sit there for a while longer, the box of letters beside her on the bed, her fingers resting lightly over the lid. It had always been a secret kind of love. Quiet, patient, hidden in the spaces between small kindnesses and subtle glances. And now, with Spitfire’s name tucked like a splinter into the letter she’d never send, it felt even smaller. Like a shadow shrinking at sunset. "You’ll never find out that I love you". She placed the box gently back into its hiding place, buried it beneath the blanket and the journals like she always did.

But this time, she didn’t feel lighter.

The hallways were already alive with the usual Monday morning hum. Fluttershy moved through it all like she always did: quietly, lightly, as if she were afraid of taking up too much space. She spotted her friends near Rainbow’s locker, clustered like warmth against the chill of the week.

Rainbow Dash stood in the middle, balancing a skateboard against one sneaker, her brown jacket hanging open over a rumpled band tee. Her shaggy hair— freshly streaked in varying hues—was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Applejack leaned against the locker beside her, arms crossed, nodding at something Dash had just muttered. Rarity was at her side, reapplying her lipliner, while Sunset giggled, showing Pinkie and Twilight a video on her phone. Fluttershy beamed at the picturesque view of her friends, approaching just as Applejack nudged the skater.

“You ever gonna talk to her?” Applejack asked, tone casual.

Rainbow rolled her eyes, shifting the skateboard between her feet. “Shut up. She’s just cool. It’s not a thing.”

“Mmhmm.” Applejack took a slow bite of her apple. “Didn’t say it was.”

Fluttershy didn’t speak. She just watched Rainbow’s expression carefully, the little twitch at the edge of her mouth, the way she looked away for a second too long. Before the quiet girl could realize she was staring, Rarity’s voice slid in, crisp and clear.

“Darling, your braid is falling apart again,” she said, stepping closer and reaching gently for Fluttershy’s shoulder. “Come sit—I have bobby pins, and you know I can’t let you walk around looking like you did your hair with a fork.”

Fluttershy blinked, startled but grateful. “Oh, thanks, Rarity.” She flashed the girl an awkward grin.

Rarity guided her to the bench by the lockers with practiced grace and pulled out a small bag of emergency supplies from her tote. Fluttershy sat still as careful fingers worked through her hair, the soft tug of comb and pins oddly grounding. She felt some of the ache ease in her chest, if only a little.

“See? Already better,” Rarity said, pinning the last strand in place. “You have such lovely hair, Fluttershy. It’s a crime you don’t let me style it more often.”

Fluttershy smiled, this time a little more genuinely. “Thank you.”

Rarity didn’t move away. Her fingers lingered for a beat longer, smoothing down the front of Fluttershy’s loose tank top. Then, carefully, she reached for a few loose strands around her face and tucked them behind her ear with practiced precision.

“I don’t know why you hide behind all this,” Rarity murmured, almost more to herself than to Fluttershy. “You should let yourself be seen, darling.”

Fluttershy blinked, uncertain whether she was meant to respond, choosing to run her hand along the thick, pink braid instead. “It feels nice.”

“Good,” Rarity said simply. Fluttershy’s glance shifted from her, over to the others clustered down the hall. Rarity followed her gaze, then didn’t comment. She just touched Fluttershy’s arm gently, guiding her up from the bench.

Rarity only smiled again, graceful and unreadable, before elegantly linking arms with the shyer girl. “Now come on, let’s not make them wait.”

The final bell buzzed through the halls as students bustled out of the classroom, the sounds of chatter and heavy footsteps echoing off the ceilings. The day had been mundane: classes long, lectures monotonous. Fluttershy slid a textbook on her locker shelf, picking up a few folders with one hand, adjusting her loose, beaded necklaces in the mirror with the other. She slung her bag over her shoulder and closed the door, only to find a smug face with a blonde, unruly man bun staring right at her.

“Heyyy, Shy-shy,” he drawled, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, “just the sister I was looking for.”

Fluttershy sighed with quiet dread. “What do you want?”

Zephyr clutched his chest in mock offense. “Why does it always have to be ‘what do you want’? Maybe I just missed your radiant presence.”

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

He dropped the act with a dramatic sigh. “Okay, okay, for real. I left my art portfolio in the ceramics studio and Mr. Luck won’t let me back in unless I bring it to him. Something about,” he waved vaguely, “‘accountability’ or whatever. So. Could my very kind, very responsible sister go grab it for me while I, uh… hold my spot in line at the smoothie truck?” He finished with a toothy, apologetic smile.

Fluttershy stared at him.

He grinned.

“Please?” he added, like it physically hurt to say.

With a resigned breath and roll of her eyes, Fluttershy adjusted her messenger bag. “Fine. But you owe me. Again.”

“You’re an angel!” he declared, pressing a dramatic kiss to the top of her head, causing her to duck away and grimace. “Seriously. You’re like, the best sister a guy could ask for. Top tier. Chef’s kiss! You should be getting offers, y’know?”

Fluttershy paused, confused. “Offers?”

Zephyr gestured grandly. “Romantic offers. I mean, come on. You’re sweet, you’re helpful, you’ve got that whole quiet, mysterious, earthy thing going. You’ve got to be crushing on someone, right?”

“I’m not—!” she turned sharply and power-walked past him, ears going pink. “That’s none of your business!”

He raised his eyebrows, lightly jogging to keep up. “Ooh. That’s a ‘yes.’”

Fluttershy was near running towards the art studio now, her steps gaining momentum as she stomped toward the side exit of the school, hoping to outpace the warmth rising in her cheeks. Stepping outside, she quickly discerned which way to go, before turning on her heel again.

“Oh, come on,” Zephyr called after her. “You’ve gotta spill. Is it that eco kid with the beanie? Or the one from the shelter who’s always high?”

“I am not going to discuss my personal life with you,” she snapped over her shoulder, voice still soft but definitely sharp.

She was nearly clear of the walkway when her foot caught on something round and loose, a soccer ball that had rolled off the nearby field.

Fluttershy let out a startled squeak as it knocked her balance just enough. Her bag slipped off her shoulder, and she tumbled sideways into the grass with a quiet thump.

“Whoa, hey!”

A flash of tan skin darted into view before she could even sit up. Rainbow Dash jogged over, her short hair bouncing, cleats digging slightly into the turf as she slowed.

“Whoa, you good, Shy?” she asked, crouching in front of her with wide, worried eyes. “I saw that. Ball came outta nowhere. You okay?”

Fluttershy blinked up at her, dazed. Half from the fall, half from the sudden proximity.

“I’m okay,” she managed, brushing grass off her maxi skirt as Rainbow offered her a hand. Fluttershy hesitated only a second before taking it.

Rainbow helped her up easily, grinning a little as she looked up at Fluttershy. “Didn’t think we’d knock anyone over from halfway across the field. You really should watch where you’re going.”

Fluttershy flushed. “It was… it was just surprising.”

Behind them, Spitfire jogged up, hands on her hips. “Sorry, that one’s on me,” she admitted sheepishly. “Overshot the pass.” Fluttershy looked away from the girl, embarrassed.

Rainbow waved her off. “It’s fine. No damage done.” She turned to Fluttershy, lowering her voice just a bit. “Sorry again. You sure you’re not hurt?”

Fluttershy nodded quickly, clutching her bag tighter. “No, really, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Rainbow lingered a second longer than she needed to, eyes scanning Fluttershy’s face, like she didn’t quite believe her. Then she grinned.

“Okay, good. You’re tougher than you look.” And just like that, she turned and jogged back toward the field, Spitfire following behind as they fell back into their game.

Fluttershy stared after her, blinking once, then twice. She felt like her heart had launched itself into her throat.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Zephyr’s voice returned like a gust of wind, and Fluttershy nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t realized he’d caught up.

He stared after Rainbow with an expression of dawning understanding, then slowly turned to Fluttershy with a smirk so smug it should’ve been illegal.

“No. No way. Rainbow Dash?” he asked, delight coating every word.

Fluttershy froze. “It’s not—”

“Ohhh, this is perfect,” he cooed, following her as she started walking again, faster now. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. All the mysterious sighing? The blushing? The way you looked like a tomato just now—”

“I do not look like a tomato,” she muttered, speeding up.

“She literally touched your hand and you ascended into another plane of existence.”

Fluttershy whirled on him, face now thoroughly scarlet. “Zephyr!”

He held his hands up, backing off, but not before giving her a wide-eyed, mock-sincere expression.

“Hey, hey, I’m not judging! I support it! Honestly? You’d be cute together. You could be, like, her emotional support animal.”

She groaned and turned away, practically marching down the sidewalk now. “I am going to return your portfolio and then never speak to you again.”

“Love you too, Shy!” he called after her, still grinning.

Fluttershy didn’t respond. Her heart was pounding, her face was burning, and her fingers were still tingling from Rainbow’s touch.

She absolutely hated that her brother had gotten one thing right.

Chapter Text

The tofu was overcooked again.

Fluttershy didn’t mind, really. It was all so familiar, the faint smell of lemongrass coming from the kitchen, the ambient lamps around the dinner table. She sat with her back straight and her shoulders hunched, a contradiction in posture she’d long since perfected. She gently pushed the peas around her plate, hoping if she rearranged them enough times, her mom would forget she hadn’t eaten any. Across the table, Zephyr leaned back in his chair with one foot tucked under the other knee, twirling his fork like it was a drumstick.

Their mom sat between them, opening and closing her mouth a few times, awkwardly trying to find a point of conversation. “Your father got held up at the office,” she said for the second time that night. “There’s a new project coming in from the town over. Last-minute, apparently.”

Fluttershy nodded politely. Zephyr rolled his eyes.

“Classic,” Zephyr said, popping a carrot in his mouth. “Man works harder than anyone I know at pretending he’s not avoiding family dinner.”

“Zephyr,” their mom warned without looking up.

“I mean, hey, I get it. I’ve been doing a lot of emotional labor lately myself.”

Fluttershy arched an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he said, pointing his chopsticks at her. “I did you a favor today.”

She blinked. “What favor?”

“Our charming chase to the soccer field? You’re welcome.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach. “Zephyr—”

“I’m just saying, someone had to nudge you before you turned into one of those weird spinsters who feeds birds and marries her houseplants.”

Fluttershy’s cheeks turned bright pink. Their mother sighed softly, taking a sip of her water. “Can we please not argue for once—”

“I’m not arguing,” Zephyr said cheerfully. “I’m making an observation. A loving, supportive observation.”

Fluttershy’s fork clattered to her plate. “Well stop it.”

“Whoof. Someone’s tense today.”

“Zephyr.” Their mom’s voice was sharper this time, but he ignored her, leaning his elbow onto the table as he eyed his sister.

“C’mon mother!” Zephyr threw his hands up in the air, chuckling now. “We all know she needs a little push every now and then. Might as well be from me.”

Fluttershy stared down at her plate, the old knot forming in her throat. She hated this. The sudden spotlight. The assumption that she couldn’t do anything on her own. That she needed to be fixed. “I don’t need a push,” she said softly.

Zephyr snorted. “You need a shove , Fluttershy. You’ve been hiding behind your hair since we were kiddies. You never do anything about anything.”

Her fists curled in her lap.

“You spend your whole life waiting for things to happen to you, and then act shocked when they don’t. And don’t even try to argue that you’re shy anymore, you’re just invisible.”

“Zephyr Breeze!” their mom snapped.

Fluttershy turned swiftly towards him, chair scraping against the tile. “You are such a jerk!”

He raised his eyebrows in fake innocence. “Hey, hey, I’m just saying—it’s not healthy to bottle all that up. I’m trying to help you put yourself out there.”

“I didn’t ask for your help. I don’t want it.”

Zephyr’s eyes widened, opening his mouth, then closing it, surprised by the edge in her voice.

Their mom sighed calmly. “Zephyr. Upstairs. Now.”

“Mom, come on—”

“I said now.” She was still calm, but it was the kind of calm that meant the next warning wouldn’t come so politely.

Zephyr groaned, dragging himself to his feet with theatrical exhaustion. “Fine. But when Fluttershy’s still single, cooped up inside her room with her animals in forty years, I want it on record that I tried.”

“Now.”

He slinked away, muttering as he went, and the sound of his footsteps faded up the stairs. When he was finally gone, the kitchen felt ten degrees quieter. Fluttershy readjusted her chair, heart still thudding. Her mom didn’t say anything at first. She just reached over and gently refilled her water glass.

After a long pause, she said softly, “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Fluttershy shook her head, eyes fixed on her food. “No. I don’t think I do.”

And for once, her mom let that be enough.

The August sun was kind the following morning, Fluttershy noted as she walked through the school garden, enough so that she could take off her sage cardigan and neatly fold it in her bag. She knelt between the vegetable rows, her gloved hands gently digging around the base of a carrot. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail that kept slipping over her shoulder, and her boots were dusted with soil. Beside her, Treehugger lounged near a patch of mint, humming to herself as she pinched off the flowering tops.

“Your aura’s a little jittery today, Shy,” Treehugger said, without looking up. “You okay?”

Fluttershy didn’t look up either, her voice quiet. “I’m just thinking a lot. People have been-” she grunted while giving a particularly stubborn carrot a final tug, “- difficult lately.”

“Mmm. Thought spirals. I get that.” Treehugger gently tucked a sprig of mint in her front overall pocket. “Gotta let that negative energy move through you. Like a wind.”

Fluttershy smiled faintly, wiping the back of her hand across her cheek. “I’m trying.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken only by the distant slam of a door and the familiar patter of sneakers jogging on pavement.

Treehugger tilted her head. “Vibe shift incoming.” Fluttershy looked up from the carrots, and her heart somersaulted into her throat.

Rainbow Dash was coasting down the path toward them, baggy white shirt cropping at the waist of her jorts. The earbuds around her neck tugged on loose strands of her streaked hair as she reached the edge of the garden bed, placing her backpack down.

“Hey,” she called casually. “Sorry, don’t mean to interrupt.”

Treehugger gave her a lazy two-finger wave. “We’re communing with the vegetables.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow, amused. “Cool. You, uh, whisper to the carrots yet?”

“Not whispering,” Treehugger said solemnly. “Listening.”

Rainbow let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You’re not real, Treehugger.”

“I get that a lot,” she replied, totally unfazed.

Fluttershy, still kneeling, cleared her throat softly and started tugging at another carrot like her life depended on it.

Dash glanced at her, pausing before asking, “hey, Fluttershy? Can I, uh… talk to you for a sec?”

Fluttershy froze, her hands still wrapped around the carrot tops.

Treehugger raised an eyebrow, then stood, brushing her palms against her overalls. “I’ll go water the kale,” she said serenely, wandering off past Rainbow Dash without waiting for a response. She turned around behind the athlete, though, raising her eyebrows deviously at Fluttershy, who gave her a subtle glare before standing up. 

Dash shifted on her feet, then stepped closer to Fluttershy. “So. Uh.”

Fluttershy didn’t speak. She was already bracing for impact.

“You know, I-uh. I get my eyes from my mom, you know that.” Rainbow scratched the back of her neck. 

Fluttershy shook her head, bewildered. “Um. What are you talking about?”

“You know, the color. The magenta- or. Well. Technically they’re just brown, but they do look kinda pink in the light. No one’s ever called them magical before, though.” Rainbow dropped her hand to her side, earnestly looking at the taller girl now. 

“Dash, I don’t know what-”, Fluttershy’s breath hitched as her eyes caught something white and crinkled in the other girl’s hand. Her eyes frantically shifted from the envelope, to Rainbow Dash, to the envelope, to Rainbow Dash-

“Fluttershy?”

The tall girl couldn’t breathe. Oh God. No. No, no no. This isn’t happening. I’m dreaming. This is a sick dream, I….. 

Suddenly, Dash’s comment about eyes paused her frantic mind, and Fluttershy recalled the writing that ended up in the athlete’s hand.

I don’t know how to say these things out loud. But I think I feel them harder in the silence. You walk into a room and it’s like the world shifts. Like even the sunlight ends up falling a little differently, just to land on your shoulders. You’re not just beautiful. You're captivating. Like watching something wild and free that was never meant to be tamed.

I catch myself staring, more than I should. Your smile is so easy, like it’s never been afraid. Your laugh makes everything feel a little bit lighter. And your eyes—goodness, don’t get me started. Your gorgeous, magenta eyes. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen such magical, deep eyes before. They remind me of something I dreamt about once, but forgot as soon as I woke up.

Falling for you feels exhilarating, like I’m in a car going full speed down a hill. It’s silly, isn’t it? Writing this all down. But some feelings don’t go away just because you pretend they’re not there. And honestly, I don’t want this one to go away. I want to feel it forever.

Yours, 

Fluttershy

“Hello? Shy?”

“Wh—how did you—?” she stammered.

Dash tilted her head, grin lopsided. “It was in my locker this morning. Don’t know how it got there, but… you’ve got some guts, I’ll give you that.”

Fluttershy took a step back. Her vision blurred at the edges. The garden swam slightly, her fingers slackening around the carrot she’d just pulled from the soil.

“Fluttershy?”

“I—I think I—”

The edges of her world tilted. She swayed on her feet, and Rainbow lunged forward to catch her, just as Fluttershy’s heel clipped a garden hose trailing along the ground. Rainbow’s foot followed, slipping on the same hose.

There was a large crash , with a mix of limbs, dirt, and leaves, as the two girls hit the ground in a tangle. Rainbow landed hard on her back, and Fluttershy landed squarely on top of her.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Dash asked, wide-eyed and breathless, staring up at her from the dirt.

Fluttershy blinked rapidly, trying to right herself without making things worse. Her hands braced on Dash’s shoulders. “I’m—I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—!”

“Well, well well, look at leftback, finally living up to the nickname!”

Voices rang out across the grass outside the greenhouse, and a few heads popped up from beyond the tall fence of the school’s garden, clearly belonging to Rainbow’s teammates. Their laughter echoed easily in the quiet space.

“Smooth, Crash!” one of them hollered. “You finally tripped for someone on purpose ?”

“Should we give them some privacy?”

Fluttershy’s entire body flushed a deep, mortified red. She scrambled off Rainbow, mumbling apologies in a panic.

From behind the group, Spitfire crossed her arms, watching silently, before turning away. “Alright, that’s enough,” she snapped at the rest. “Let’s move it.”

The teammates’ laughter slowly faded as they disappeared from view, leaving only the heavy silence of the garden behind. Fluttershy stood, brushing herself off, heart pounding in her chest like it wanted to break out.

Rainbow sat up, wiping dirt off her arms and blinking. “Wow. That was-uh. That was something.”

Fluttershy swallowed thickly. This was it. The moment she’d feared since the first time she ever wrote one of those letters.

Rainbow looked at her expectantly, tilting her head. “So, is it true?”

Fluttershy blinked. “What?”

“The letter,” Dash said, holding it up again. “Is this how you feel about me?”

And just like that, all the panic rushed back into Fluttershy’s chest.

No no no no no no—

She couldn’t tell the truth. She couldn’t.

Her mind whirred, and before she could stop herself, she said the first thing that came to her lips.

“It wasn’t for you!” she blurted. 

Rainbow froze, then asked, “…It wasn’t?”

“Uhhh. No.” Fluttershy had grabbed bunches of her loose pants then, still hoping to wake up. 

Rainbow slowly lowered the envelope. “Then who…?”

A beat passed.

And then Fluttershy, in full panic, gestured toward the other end of the garden. “Treehugger,” she said, voice high and cracking. “I wrote it to… to Treehugger.”

Rainbow blinked. “You… wrote a love letter to Treehugger?”

Fluttershy nodded, the lie snowballing fast. “Y-Yeah. I—I wrote it a while ago. I didn’t mean for anyone to see it, but I guess it ended up in the wrong place.”

“Oh.”

Dash looked thrown. Not hurt, Fluttershy concluded, but confused. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she looked down at the letter again.

“I mean, I guess that makes sense,” she muttered. “It was pretty vague. Just… sweet, y’know? Treehugger is lucky.”

Fluttershy looked away, twisting her hands in the fabric she was gripping. Rainbow took a step back then, brushing the last of the soil from her shorts, and gave her a small smile.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your carrots, I guess.”

Fluttershy managed a tiny nod. “Okay. Sorry again for- I…. yeah.”

Dash grabbed her backpack and walked off backwards toward the gate, not taking her eyes off of the taller girl, before turning to open the gate and shoving the letter into her back pocket as she left. Once it clicked behind her, Fluttershy let herself finally exhale. And then she sat down in the dirt, head in her hands, shaking, 

The final bell rang like a starter pistol.

Rarity had barely stepped out of the English room when she spotted her. “Darling—boba? Sunset and I are thinking that little place by the theater—”

“I—I can’t today, I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said too quickly, adjusting the strap of her bag. “I really need to get home.”

Rarity blinked, slightly taken aback by the interruption, but smiled gently. “Well, all right. Don’t-” But Fluttershy had already ran off, leaving the two girls behind her to exchange a worried glance.

“Something’s wrong.” Sunset narrowed her eyes.

Already at the end of the student lot, Fluttershy’s boots tapped quick and unsteady across the sidewalk, bag bouncing against her hip. The walk home had never felt so far. Her legs burned, her chest was tight, and her thoughts raced louder than her footsteps.

Please don’t let it be all of them. Please just be the one.

She nearly fumbled her house key, hands slick with worry as she shoved open the front door and bolted up the stairs two at a time.

Her room was exactly as she’d left it, with sunlight cutting across the floor, her bed still unmade from this morning, Angel gnawing on some cilantro, but her closet door was ajar.

She dropped to her knees in front of it, heart pounding. With trembling fingers, she pulled aside the stack of out-of-season sweaters and found the panel.

The box was still there.

She exhaled sharply, snatching it up and opening it with a flurry of movement. Inside, the letters were still neatly folded, four envelopes still bearing the same soft calligraphy. Fluttershy tilted her head back, eyes closed with a sigh of relief.

But the contents of the closet were clearly disturbed. Her storage bins were jumbled. A pair of shoes knocked over. A book bag slumped sideways instead of stacked. Someone had been in here.

And she knew exactly who.

The front door downstairs clicked open. Then closed.

Fluttershy stood so fast she nearly knocked the box from her lap.

She stomped down the stairs, mouth pursed in a tight line. When she reached the bottom step, Zephyr was standing by the door, keys still in hand, guilt already written across his face.

“Hey, sis,” he said weakly. “So… how was your—”

He didn’t get to finish.

Because Fluttershy lunged.

“YOU—GOOD FOR NOTHING—MINDLESS—TERRIBLE—I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!” she shrieked, swinging her messenger bag wildly. Zephyr stumbled backward into the wall, dodging flailing straps and fists.

“I didn’t mean to! I was just looking for a charger and—and then I saw the letters and I thought they were yours —I mean, obviously they were yours—but like—I didn’t know they were secret ! I thought they were just cute poetry—!”

“You had no right! ” she cried. “That letter was mine! It wasn’t supposed to go anywhere! ”

“Okay—so maybe I slid it in her locker. Casually. I thought it’d be, like, romantic , you know? Like in the movies!”

Fluttershy stood there, chest heaving, every bit of color drained from her face. She looked like she was about to cry or faint again. Or both.

Zephyr's grin slowly faded.

“…Okay,” he said more quietly. “It was a bad call.”

Her hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. “You humiliated me.”

“I didn’t mean to—!”

“You never mean to!! You just do things without thinking, and you ruin everything, and I have to clean it up—” Fluttershy turned the doorknob, stepping outside.

“Flutters, please!”

The front door shook on its hinges as she slammed it behind her.

The Mind Café bustled softly, not overly crowded for an afternoon. The hanging plants above Fluttershy’s booth dipped slightly in the breeze from the back door. She cradled her tea with both hands, her elbows close to her ribs. Steam rolled from the cup in slow spirals. Her thoughts raced like a film reel as she replayed the events back in her mind.

Her breath caught every time she replayed Rainbow’s face in her mind. The confusion. The concern. The teasing , even, how she said the letter was sweet. And how that had somehow made it worse.

Fluttershy exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the ceramic.

Maybe it’s not as bad as I think. I’ll find a way out of the lie, and no one will ever know or talk about this ever aga-

The bell over the door jingled.

Fluttershy didn’t look up until a familiar voice said, “Knew I’d find you here.”

Her pink hair rippled as she jolted her head up, finding Rainbow standing above her, hand resting on the other side of the booth. Her other hand was tucked into the pocket of her shorts, her hair slightly windblown. The usual cocky lilt in her posture was dimmed, gentler. “I stopped by your house, but uh… yeah.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy breathed, setting her tea down quickly. “Hi.”

“Mind if I sit?”

Fluttershy hesitated, then nodded, moving her bag off the seat across from her.

Rainbow slid in, one arm draped along the backrest. She didn’t speak right away. Instead, she glanced around the café, like she hadn’t been there a dozen times before. “You always pick this booth, don’t you.”

Fluttershy shrugged lightly. “It’s the quietest one. The light’s nice, too.”

Rainbow leaned back a bit, letting her knee bump gently against Fluttershy’s under the table. “Yeah. It’s you.”

Fluttershy blinked. “What’s me?”

“You know. Plants. Quiet.” She shrugged, moving her resting hand in a circular motion, gesturing to the booth. “The corner.”

The comment made Fluttershy’s heart leap in a way she wished it wouldn’t. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her mug.

A beat passed.

Then Rainbow sat forward, elbows on the table. “So… I’ve been thinking.”

Fluttershy’s stomach dropped.

Rainbow reached into her pocket and pulled out a very familiar envelope. The red gel pen still glimmering, the edges more than wrinkled now. Fluttershy flinched.

“I was kinda surprised when you told me it was for Treehugger,” Dash said. “Didn’t really expect that.”

Fluttershy looked at her hands. “Oh.”

Dash looked up at her, an amused smile forming on her face. “How did it even get to me, anyway?”

Fluttershy placed her face in between her palms. “God. Zephyr, he-“

“Ah.” Rainbow nodded knowingly, then her face shifted into something more neutral. “I mean, like I said, it makes sense. I know you guys are pretty close. You’re just so quiet about these things, I guess.” Rainbow continued. Fluttershy cringed. 

The two were closer, once before. When they were a handful of years younger, a foot shorter, and willing to tell each other anything. The lull in the conversation saddened the timid girl as she remembered the never-ending playdates, the childlike giggles, the sundaes they used to share. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Rainbow added quickly, sensing the tension. “I just meant- you don’t really talk about this kinda stuff. Like, at all.”

“I guess I don’t,” Fluttershy murmured.

Rainbow cracked a sheepish smile. “I mean, I don’t either, but… I’m loud enough people assume, y’know?”

Fluttershy’s lip curled up, just faintly. “You are quite the topic of conversation.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” Rainbow shrugged. 

That made Fluttershy let out a breathy laugh. Rainbow pulled one leg on top of the other, taking in an awkward breath. “So, like, why didn’t you just give it to her? The letter, I mean.”

Fluttershy swallowed, hard. “I… it’s just… it’s more…” She shifted around in her seat. Rainbow Dash watched her with an unusual, gentle patience that made Fluttershy’s insides melt. She tried again, speaking carefully. “I—I’m afraid she’d see me…. differently,” she said quietly. “We’re… good friends, and I don’t want to lose that.” Her fingers curled slightly on the table. “And even if she doesn’t return my feelings, I don’t want to make things weird.”

Rainbow nodded, slowly. “Yeah… that makes sense.”

Fluttershy stared into her tea, chest tightening as she realized the truth of the words she had just let out. “I guess… sometimes it feels safer to just admire someone from a distance. You don’t risk anything that way.”

She looked up for a second, and Rainbow was watching her closely, eyes darker than usual under the warm light. “But don’t you want to risk some things?”

“What?” Fluttershy blinked.

“I mean, it’s clear from your letter that you want to be with her. Not just admire her.”

Rainbow leaned back in her seat, eyes narrowed in thought. “I just… I know how it feels to like someone and not know what to do with all of that.”

Fluttershy looked at her, surprised by how honest she sounded. “You mean… are you talking about Spitfire?”

A beat. Rainbow blinked, taken aback. But she smiled, grin slightly crooked, eyes glancing back down knowingly.  “Uh, yeah,” She began, voice gentler this time. “Yeah.”

Fluttershy’s pulse quickened, and not in a pleasant way. She sat frozen, caught between her own heartbeat and the warmth in Rainbow’s tone. 

“Okay, real question,” the athlete looked at her now. “How’d you get so good at writing?”

“Huh?” Fluttershy’s kept her expression carefully neutral. “Oh. I mean, I guess those are just the things I feel.”

“I get that.” Rainbow swirled her finger around on the wooden table. “I was just asking ‘cause, well. I’ve never written a letter like that. I probably wouldn’t know how. I think I’d just mess it up.”

Fluttershy moved her head up to look at her. “I think you’d be better at it than you think.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. You always seem to just say the right thing.”

Rainbow laughed under her breath. “That’s generous. I just… kind of wing it. Hope something lands.”

Their eyes met for a moment. Fluttershy gave a tiny smile, her eyes shifting downward, but something in her flickered with courage. She looked back up through her lashes. “You’d know about my writing already if you ever let the band play one of my songs.”

Rainbow froze, caught like a deer in headlights. Fluttershy arched a brow, unmistakably challenging the competitive girl across from her.

“I—hey,” Rainbow said, crossing her arms with faux defensiveness. “It’s not like I don’t want to! I just… we have a sound, y’know? We have to stay on brand .”

“Oh, I didn’t realize being emotionally vulnerable was off-brand.” Fluttershy’s voice stayed light, but the glint in her eyes was pure mischief.

Rainbow let out a strangled sound that might’ve been a laugh. “Okay, rude. You know I’m not good at emotional stuff.”

Fluttershy tilted her head. “I think you’re good at pretending you’re not.”

That seemed to strike something deeper, and Rainbow blinked at her, the draft from the back door nudging strands of her rainbow-colored hair across her face. She let the silence linger for a beat too long, then looked down, scuffing her sneaker against the floor.

It was the first time in a long time they’d sat together like this. No band, no group chat notifications, no one needing a ride or asking for notes. Just them.

Fluttershy missed it.

The hum of Rainbow Dash’s Prius during the ride home wasn’t exactly peaceful, but the wind against Fluttershy’s face made it easy to pretend it was. The city blurred by in dusky shades of orange and lavender as they sped through the side streets, taking the scenic route, Fluttershy noticed.

The shy girl sat quietly with her hands resting on the sides of the passenger seat. Her heart was still a little jittery. Whether from the conversation at the café or just from being this close, she wasn’t sure.

The two sat in silence, but Fluttershy caught a glimpse of Rainbow Dash’s eyes in the rearview mirror, flicking toward her, quickly, as if checking that she was still there. Fluttershy smiled to herself and looked away just as Rainbow turned back to the road, but then let her mouth fall into a frown. Don’t get your hopes up.

By the time they pulled up in front of Fluttershy’s house, the sky had shifted to an early evening. She unbuckled her seatbelt and adjusted her cardigan as she turned toward Rainbow with a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said gently.

Rainbow nodded, keeping a hand on the gearshift for a moment longer. “No problem.”

Fluttershy reached to grab her bag, when-

“Hey, uh…” Rainbow started, and Fluttershy stopped mid-packing, glancing at the girl.

“Hm?”

Rainbow scratched the back of her neck with her free hand. “So, Spitfire... kinda saw us earlier.”

Fluttershy tensed at the name.

Rainbow glanced back at her with a weird half-smirk. “Y’know. When we were—uh. In the garden.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy breathed.

“She was asking about it,” Rainbow added, trying for casual, but her voice had an edge of nerves to it. “You know… what that was.”

“What did you tell her?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Nothing really. I said it wasn’t what it looked like. Which was probably a lie, because I’m pretty sure it looked like I tackled you into the ground and then forgot how to stand.”

Fluttershy tried to laugh, but it came out thin.

Rainbow looked at her again, more seriously this time. “But she seemed kind of… weird about it. Quiet. Which is… rare.”

She paused. Fluttershy blinked at her, unsure where this was going.

Rainbow shifted on her seat. “But it got me thinking. About what we talked about earlier. The whole letter thing. And, like… if Treehugger doesn’t know how you feel—if she hasn’t noticed you yet—maybe we should give her a reason to. Do something to get her attention, I mean.”

Fluttershy looked at her, quiet.

Rainbow took a breath, hands in her pockets now. “Okay, don’t laugh. But, like. What if we do more of what happened today?”

“Do what?”

“The…together thing,” Rainbow said, voice softer than usual. “Just…fake it for a bit.”

Fluttershy blinked, eyes widening

“I mean, no pressure or anything,” Rainbow went on quickly. “But it could help. With Treehugger. Or… or whatever.”

Or whatever. Fluttershy couldn’t tell what emotion was trying to win out: hope, fear, or disappointment.

Rainbow rushed to explain, holding up her hands. “Just to get some attention! We hang out more, let people see us together. Make it believable. You know, like, strategic affection.”

Fluttershy’s brows knit at that. “Strategic affection?”

Rainbow winced. “Okay, I heard that in a TV show, it sounded less weird in my head.”

Fluttershy bit her lip, still stunned.

“And hey,” Rainbow added, trying to sound casual, “if Spitfire gets a little jealous along the way, that’s not the worst thing either, right?”

The mention of that landed heavier than it should have.

“Oh,” Fluttershy said quietly. “Right.”

Of course.

Rainbow’s grin dimmed just a little. “I mean—it wouldn’t just be about her. Just… it could help, you know?”

Fluttershy hesitated, the tight feelings of rejection and nerves bouncing in her chest. No. No way. 

But then she glanced at Rainbow, who looked so painfully hopeful, so sure she was helping. Fluttershy sighed, looking away.

“I’ll… think about it,” she said softly.

Rainbow nodded, settling further into the driver’s seat, sliding down a bit. “Cool. Totally cool. No pressure.”

A long pause settled between them again. Fluttershy finally grabbed hold of her bag, then unlocked the car door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rainbow asked from behind her. Fluttershy turned around briefly. 

“Yeah. You will. Um.”

Rainbow Dash’s eyebrows lifted, encouraging her to continue.

“Thank you. For… today.”

The athlete’s expression softened quietly. “Yeah. Of course, Shy.”

Fluttershy lingered for a second, heart too full for her chest, then stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind her.

Chapter Text

The pinging sound coming from her phone, tangled with the blankets on her bed from being flung across the room, scared Fluttershy half to death. She paused her pacing to silence the “BAND PRACTICE TOMORROW” reminder, courtesy of Twilight, and went back to gaze out the window. 

Fake dating.

It sounded ridiculous now that she was alone, back in the safety of her room. Her ruffle socks made soft shuffling sounds against the floor as she moved, chewing on her thumbnail, heart pounding just a little faster than she liked.

She couldn’t do it. Not if her life depended on it.

The idea of pretending to be with Rainbow Dash, letting people see them together, holding her hand, smiling like it didn’t mean something more, it made her stomach twist with nerves. How would she look her in the eyes without giving everything away? More importantly, how much could she suppress the desire for it to be real?

She paused in front of her mirror and studied herself, as if she might find some bravery in her reflection.

I couldn’t do it. It would hurt too much. 

She ran a hand through her hair, and let it wash back over her face. I’m not like her. Or Spitfire. I don’t have something like that in me. Her thoughts trailed off.

Her eyes darted to the side of the mirror, at the reflection of her closet. Her chest tightened at the memory of the one Rainbow had seen. Of Rainbow holding it like it was fragile, like it meant something. “It was just… sweet, y’know?” Fluttershy’s throat closed.

She walked to the edge of her bed and sat down heavily, burying her face in her hands.

Everything was so messed up.

I should say no. It was the obvious answer. Protect your heart. Keep things simple.

But then, like a soft knock on the back of her thoughts, came Rainbow’s voice.

“If Spitfire gets a little jealous along the way….”

Fluttershy squeezed her eyes shut. That stupid, heavy ache bloomed in her chest again, like her heart was tired of being quiet.

Spitfire.

The girl Dash talked about so admiringly, hidden behind a poor mask of nonchalance.

The girl who made Rainbow laugh in texts she checked in between band practices.

The girl who would make Rainbow happy. Right?

Would doing it make Rainbow happy?

With a shaky breath, Fluttershy grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Her thumb hovered over Rainbow’s contact for far too long.

Maybe if it could finally give her some closure.

Maybe if it gave Fluttershy a chance to stop hoping.

And maybe… her feelings could be locked away once and for all, never brought to light.

This is a bad idea, she thought. This is a terrible, awful idea.

She hit the call button anyway.

What on earth am I doing?

The line rang once. 

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Twice.

Oh my god.

“Yo.” Dash’s voice was scratchy, ringing in Fluttershy’s ear like an old song.

She swallowed hard.

“Let’s do it.”

Fluttershy walked through the open soccer field, headphones over her ears as she made her way to the bleachers. The morning air was still cool and gentle, dew clinging to the grass. Usually, she’d take the front entrance to the school- meeting up with the group before classes. But today, fifteen minutes earlier, she found herself at the end of the field, staring up at a slouching Rainbow Dash lazily playing chords on her guitar. 

Then her eyes floated to her. She sat up, flashing an easy grin at Fluttershy. “Hey.”

Fluttershy moved with that signature softness, gently sliding off her headphones as she made her way up to sit a bench lower than the guitarist. “Hey. How long were you waiting for me?”

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Not long,” she began putting her guitar back in its case, “I woke up early anyway.”

“I didn’t sleep very well either.” Fluttershy looked down, fumbling her fingers in her lap. Rainbow Dash hummed in response.

“Soo… what’s the plan? How do we want to do this?”

“Oh! I uh- I brought this.” Fluttershy opened the notebook to the first page- the title “Contract” in pink gel pen, framed by printed daisies along the margins. Rainbow’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline.

“Whoa. That’s uh- that’s. A contract?”

Fluttershy tilted her head to glance at the girl. “Well, yes. I thought… we should set clear boundaries and expectations.” She gave a polite smile. 

Rainbow gave a low whistle, gently grabbing the notebook from Fluttershy’s hands. “Damn. I thought we’d just like, hold hands and shit.” Fluttershy’s smile faded, and she bit her bottom lip. Rainbow quickly noticed, before stammering out, “N-no! This is great! Super official. Just, uh… okay, wow.” She started scanning the page, then to Fluttershy’s surprise, reached into her bag to hand her a blue pen. “What kind of… expectations were you thinking?”

Fluttershy softly took the pen before uncapping it and taking the notebook back. “Well, rule number one: ‘No kissing’”, she neatly transcribed. Rainbow Dash choked, causing Fluttershy to glance up.

“R-right. Fair. Okay, what e-”

“We can hold hands, but only when there’s people around to notice.” Fluttershy’s atypical matter-of-factness left Rainbow Dash’s eyes wide. The athlete waited until she was done writing, before gently taking the pen and notebook out of her hands. Fluttershy jumped, ears growing red as their hands brushed, nervously looking up at Rainbow. 

Dash swallowed and looked to the side, knee bouncing up and down. “Look, I love that you’ve got this all figured out. Really. But, uh…”, she scratched the back of her neck, suddenly hesitant. “I don’t know if things should be that… strict. Obviously, we should have boundaries. But, like, what if we’re in public and people expect us to— I don’t know, act couple-y?”

Fluttershy blinked. “Like how?”

Rainbow straightened the pen and started writing, using her knee as a table. “Okay. How about… occasional lunch dates in the courtyard. That spot near the art wing with the yellow bench? 

Fluttershy tilted her head. “Why?”

Dash shrugged. “Spitfire walks past there after fourth period.”

Fluttershy’s heart pulled tight. “Of course.”

Dash didn’t seem to notice. “Next-partner homework sessions. Just so people see us outside school. Gotta make it look real.”

Fluttershy smiled slightly. “You sure you’re not just trying to leech off of my chem answers?” 

Rainbow Dash shot her a playful glare. “That was one time. But… maybe.” Fluttershy let out a breathy laugh.

“Okay… we can do that. But as long as you do the work yourself. I can help you.” Fluttershy expected Dash to roll her eyes and complain, but the athlete just continued writing a sub-note under rule number four. 

“Fluttershy… will help… get Dash’s chem grade up.” Rainbow finished scribbling, turning around the notebook to display her work. “There.”

Fluttershy could only smile, bemused. She tapped her hands on her knees rhythmically, thinking. “What else should we add?”

“Uhhh”, Dash ran a hand through her shaggy hair, avoiding Fluttershy’s gaze. “There’s- another thing I was thinking about,” she said.

Fluttershy straightened a little. “What is it?”

Rainbow was suddenly very interested in the metallic glow of the bleachers. “Uh… would you maybe come to my practices?”

There was a long pause.

“…Your practices?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, too fast. “You already go to the games with everyone else, which is awesome, but like—most of the other girls’ partners show up sometimes. It’s just a thing. You could sit on the bleachers and read or whatever. No one would bug you.”

Fluttershy looked genuinely caught off guard. “Oh.”

“I know it’s extra time, and you don’t have to stay long. It’s just-if we’re trying to make it look real, it might help. Y’know?”

Fluttershy hesitated, fingers curling slightly at her knees. There was something about the way Rainbow asked, the faint nervousness in her voice, that took her aback. “Alright,” she said after a beat, voice quiet. “I’ll… come. To a few.”

Rainbow’s whole face lit up with visible relief. “Really?”

Fluttershy nodded, watching as Rainbow hurriedly jotted down the plan, slightly cringing as the messy penmanship definitely bled through her good stationary. “Ok, now is there any-”

“Oh, oh! One last thing,” Rainbow flipped the notebook back onto her knee. Fluttershy rolled her eyes and smiled to herself knowingly.

The guitarist scribbled something at the bottom and held the page up with a grin.

“No falling for each other,” sat on the third to last line. Underlined. Twice.

Fluttershy’s throat suddenly felt dry, lips parting slightly. “That… I thought that was already implied!”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said with a shrug. “But like you said. Clear expectations.”

Fluttershy folded her arms and pursed her lips, trying to suppress the curling in her stomach. She shook the feelings of sadness down by raising a corner of her mouth into a soft smirk. “Now who’s being official?”

“I mean,” Rainbow looked away, suddenly shy, “I don’t want to mess it up. For you.”

Fluttershy’s throat tightened at that.

They both sat in silence for a moment. The sky above them had brightened fully now, and the bell would ring soon, but neither of them made a move to leave just yet.

Then Rainbow cleared her throat and held out her hand. “So…you’re game?”

Fluttershy looked at her, at the grin Dash couldn’t hide and the nervous fidget in her fingers. Then she reached out and shook her hand.

This is going to end terribly.

“I’m game.”

The halls of Canterlot High were buzzing in between first and second period, students beginning to wake up as their sneakers scuffed across linoleum and laughter bounced between walls. Fluttershy felt every sound, every eye on her like a ripple under her skin, too aware of her surroundings, too aware of Rainbow Dash’s hand wrapped around hers. She wasn’t used to being looked at, much less noticed, and definitely not like this.

Dash walked beside her with casual confidence, navigating the crowded hallway with ease, weaving in and out of knots of students. Fluttershy had to keep up, her steps smaller, more uncertain. Her heart was thudding so loud she was certain Rainbow could hear it.

This is fine, she told herself.

This is the plan.

Rainbow leaned in as they turned the corner, her breath brushing Fluttershy’s ear. “We’re totally selling it right now.”

Fluttershy gave a tight-lipped smile, cheeks already flushed. “You think so?” she squeaked.

“Pfft. Definitely.” Rainbow gently swung their joined hands. “Half the basketball team just looked over. Not that I blame them. You look good today”, she added, casually. Fluttershy’s thoughts reeled as the familiar compliment sparked a certain memory.

Today, it’s been three weeks since we started the band. 

I meant to go to bed an hour ago, but my ears are still ringing from the amps, and your voice is stuck in my head. You told me, “you played good today.” I know you only said it because I was a little off during the bridge, and you were trying to make me feel better. You made a face like “yikes,” when my voice cracked, but then you looked at me and grinned like none of it mattered. And it didn’t, not really. Because you were there, and we were all together, and the room was full of something louder than mistakes.

You care more than anyone I know, Rainbow. It’s not just the music, it’s everything. You want every chord to land, every lyric to rub the audience the right way. You say you want us to sound awesome, but I think deep down, it’s because you feel the music more than anyone else in the room.

And sometimes, when we’re all tired, I know you can come off a little intense. But I understand. You’re not mad when the rest of us get it wrong, you’re mad at yourself, because you want to make us better. You want us to rise with you. And I see it. I think it’s one of the bravest things about you. You push us because you believe we can keep up.

I like when you challenge us. I like when you’re so focused you forget to eat until I hand you a granola bar. I like when you yell “one more time” even though it’s already the sixth “one more time.” Because it means you’re all in. Because it means this matters to you. I think I’ve started wanting to be better, not just at music, because of you.

Yours, 

Fluttershy

But Fluttershy tried not to let this compliment sink too deep. She wasn’t sure where Rainbow’s praise was landing, if they were part of the act or something else. Something she wasn’t allowed to hope for.

Then Rainbow’s hand gave hers a small squeeze. “Oh-don’t look now, but Treehugger’s down by the auditorium.”

Fluttershy flinched.

Rainbow followed up immediately, dropping her voice to a whisper. “She’s totally looking this way. I’ll give her a sec to soak it in.”

Fluttershy stared at the ground, her stomach twisting with shame.

Rainbow let go of her hand gently, stepping back with a grin. “I’ll catch you later, okay? See you at lunch, fake girlfriend.”

And then she was gone, sauntering down the hallway like it was nothing. Fluttershy’s fingers curled into fists as she watched Rainbow weave through the crowd ahead. She hadn’t looked back once. When she turned, Treehugger was still there, leaning against the wall beside the auditorium, holding a can of kombucha and wearing that usual, unreadable expression she always had.

Fluttershy took a breath and walked towards her.

“Hey, Flutters,” Treehugger said easily. “So, you and the Rainbow, huh?”

The words landed like a hot sting. Fluttershy’s smile faltered. “Um… yeah. I mean. It’s kind of new,” she lied through her teeth.

Treehugger took a long sip of her fermented drink, studying her in that quiet, observant way she had. “Well, there you go. But I never would have seen your guys’ vibe aligning.”

Fluttershy shifted her weight, her fingers curling in the hem of her sweater. She looked down. “She’s… sweet. When you get to know her.”

There was a beat.

“You happy?” Treehugger asked.

Fluttershy looked up, startled. Her heart squeezed.

Was she?

No. Not exactly.

She was nervous, exhausted, and completely tangled in her own web of lies. It felt good, almost real for a second, when Dash grabbed her hand. But it was heartbreaking- a glimpse into something she could never truly have. Her heart felt heavy because it didn’t matter what the basketball team assumed- she wasn’t Dash’s girlfriend. It was just a role she was playing, in a story that wasn’t hers. But how was she supposed to move on when pretending felt so close to the real thing?

Fluttershy knew she couldn’t admit the truth. It was easier to pretend, to guard herself. So she nodded.

Treehugger didn’t push. “Alright,” she said with a soft shrug. “Rad.”

Fluttershy swallowed. “I—I didn’t mean to keep it from you. It just… happened fast.”

“Sure,” Treehugger said. “No bad vibes, dude. Just didn’t realize you were into girls, that’s all.”

Fluttershy felt her face heat as she planted an awkward palm over her eyes, huffing out a chuckle. “Oh, goodness.”

Fluttershy barely had time to glance towards the quad during lunch before Rarity’s fingers laced through hers, tugging her forward like a determined wind in a midi skirt and kitten heels.

“Come on, darling,” Rarity huffed, swerving around a bench with the grace of someone trained to walk in clicky shoes since birth. “You’ve been dodging me all morning. I let you get away with that nonsense yesterday, but I will get to the bottom of it.”

“I—I wasn’t dodging,” Fluttershy squeaked, practically jogging to keep up.

“You simply must tell me what’s going on with you, Fluttershy.”

“Oh… you see,” Fluttershy gripped the strap of her bag with her free hand tight as they paced down the lawn, towards the group’s usual table under the oak tree. “Something…. did happen.”

The indistinct buzz of lunchtime chatter swirled around them as they approached the others, Rarity turned towards Fluttershy now, worry ridden over her face.

“Well, what is it?”

“Rarity, the thing i-"

Before Fluttershy could finish her response, she was startled by the slam of a familiar pair of hands hitting the table. The frightened girl turned to see Applejack shooting her a wolfish grin.

“Well, I’ll be,” she said, sitting up slowly. “So it’s true, huh? You two finally got your act together?”

Fluttershy blinked. “Wh—what?”

Dash froze beside her. “…hey, Fluttershy,” she said weakly, sitting up straighter.

Sunset was next to her, leaning over Twilight’s notebook, and Pinkie was halfway through an aggressively pink smoothie. 

And Rainbow Dash, formerly slouched over the table, now looked uncharacteristically pale as Applejack awaited a response.

Sunset looked up from Twilight’s notebook, surprised. “Wait, what’s true?”

Applejack gestured lazily between the two girls. “Fluttershy and Dash. Guess we owe Pinkie that milkshake. You called it like, what, a year ago?”

“I knew it!” Pinkie yelled, nearly launching her smoothie. “I mean, the way Fluttershy always blushes when Dash compliments her? Come on!”

“I don’t—” Fluttershy tried, but Dash gave a very, very sheepish shrug.

“Uh… yeah,” Rainbow said, eyes not quite meeting anyone’s. “We, uh. We’re together.”

Fluttershy’s mouth parted, stunned. Her eyes darted to Rainbow, who couldn’t have been hiding in her seat more at this point. “We’re telling them?”, her gaze questioned. 

Her heart thudded so hard, Fluttershy swore she could feel it drop. She hadn’t even processed how to explain it yet — hadn’t even decided if they’d tell their friends, only to find out Rainbow had decided for the both of them.

Rarity’s eyes flicked to Fluttershy, lingering for a moment. “Well,” she said with a steady smile, “that’s… surprising.”

Twilight smiled politely. “Congratulations. That’s… nice.”

Applejack nodded, tipping her hat back. “Makes sense. Y’all have known each other forever.”

Fluttershy stared down at the table as she cautiously sat down. She could feel Dash’s leg bouncing underneath, the familiar rhythm of it. 

“So, how long’s this been a thing?” Rarity asked, shaking her salad.

“Uh…” Dash scratched the back of her neck. “Not long. Like… a couple days?”

Sunset quirked a brow. “Huh. You’ve been acting normal. Weird.”

Fluttershy couldn’t even bring herself to respond. The conversation carried on- Sunset asking if they’d gone on a “real” date yet, Pinkie suggesting a celebratory karaoke night (“‘So High School’! Or, no, no, no, ‘Iris’!”), Applejack teasing that they’d “better not start neckin’ at the lunch table”-but she couldn’t hear any of it. 

She kept her eyes on her hands.

Rainbow was playing along so well. So easily. Laughing, shrugging, brushing off questions like it was nothing. It made Fluttershy’s chest ache, the cruel reminder of the vast difference in how much this thing meant to the two of them.

When the bell rang and the others filtered off toward class, Fluttershy stayed behind. So did Rainbow, who’d swung her legs over the bench and stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets.

“You okay?” Dash asked as they watched Pinkie skip across the grass in the distance.

Fluttershy turned to her slowly. “Why did you lie to them?”

Rainbow blinked. “What?”

“You told Applejack we’re… really together?”

“I—well, yeah,” Rainbow said, rubbing her neck. “I thought that was the point. The whole fake thing. Sell it.”

“To strangers,” Fluttershy said, voice soft but stern. “Not to our best friends, Rainbow.”

Rainbow looked at her, startled. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

Fluttershy’s breath caught. “Of course I care.”

Dash looked away, jaw tight. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought… it’d be easier this way. Less explaining. You looked so nervous this morning, I figured jumping ahead would make it smoother.”

Fluttershy didn’t respond right away. She looked away, choosing her words carefully.

“I appreciate that, but next time,” she said quietly, “can you ask me first?”

Rainbow’s expression softened. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry. You’re right.”

They stood in the half-empty quad as the last students disappeared inside, an uneasy silence stretching between them. Fluttershy turned to leave, but Rainbow softly grabbed hold of her forearm to stop her, leaving the taller girl flushed, blinking as she looked back.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I really didn’t,” Rainbow said earnestly. Then, quieter: “Do you… want to tell them the truth? About us? I mean—about what we’re doing.”

Fluttershy met her eyes finally, her gaze steady even as her chest tightened. She shook her head. “No. Not now.”

Rainbow blinked, surprised. “You sure? I’ll back you up if—”

“It would be humiliating,” Fluttershy said softly, her voice more tired than bitter. “For both of us. They already think we’ve been keeping a secret. Telling them it’s all fake now would just… it’d be worse.”

Rainbow swallowed hard, visibly uncomfortable, but nodded. “Okay. I get it.”

There was another silence, not as sharp as the one before, but still brittle around the edges. Fluttershy gave a small, tired smile and took a step back, sliding her arm out from under Rainbow’s hold.

“I’ll see you at band practice.”

Dash hesitated like she wanted to say something more, then just gave a quick nod. “Yeah. See you then.”

The familiar clang of amps being wheeled into place and the low hum of tuning instruments filled the room, but something felt off. The usually vibrant chatter of their band, was subdued, and Fluttershy couldn’t help but think it was because their self-proclaimed “leader” sat on the edge of the raised platform, hunched over her guitar, absentmindedly running her fingers over the strings without strumming a single chord.

The quiet girl sat across the music room, softly tapping her hands against her tambourine, her eyes carefully avoiding Rainbow’s. She could feel the weight of her glance on her every now and then, brief, quiet flickers, but Fluttershy never looked back.

Twilight adjusted her mic, looked around at the silence, then cautiously cleared her throat. “Uh, okay. So, before we run the setlist, there are a few quick announcements...”

Everyone turned, blinking in surprise. Rainbow usually handled the band stuff. Twilight looked at her expectantly, and when Rainbow didn’t say anything, she continued hesitantly.

“So... we’ve got two weeks until the Green Room gig. That means rehearsal three times a week until then, and we need to finalize the setlist tonight.” She glanced at Rainbow again. “Right, Rainbow?”

Rainbow blinked and sat up. “Oh, yeah. What she said.”

The tension hung like static.

Rarity stepped in to soften the mood, unfolding a few glossy sketch papers with a proud little flourish. “Well, if that wasn’t the perfect intro into the fashion portion of rehearsal.” She held one sketch up. “Behold—stage outfits. Bold, edgy, cohesive.”

She passed them around, loose trims, lightning motifs, and signature elements for each of them. Even Pinkie Pie’s was somehow tastefully chaotic.

“These are amazing, Rarity,” Sunset said, nodding appreciatively.

Fluttershy traced her fingers along the edge of her own sketch, soft pink with a floral pattern across the waist. Her heart tugged, and she couldn’t help but smile at how fitting it was for her.

The band slowly but surely moved into playing, testing through a few different versions of the setlist. Fluttershy’s backup harmonies were soft, her tambourine crisp, but her mind was only half in it. And across from her, it was clear someone else was in the same headspace too, because Rainbow kept missing her cues, her voice offbeat in the bridge of “Lightning Back.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, adjusting her mic. “My head’s not... all there today.”

Pinkie made a goofy joke about missing brain cells, and the group chuckled politely. But even that fell flat.

When the last song fizzled out, no one clapped or cheered like they usually did.

Practice ended early.

The ride home was quiet, save for the engine hum and the light breeze coming from the windows.

Fluttershy clutched her messenger bag on her lap, sneaking a glance over Rainbow’s shoulder. She could feel the tension in her, how stiffly Rainbow sat, how unlike herself she moved. When they finally pulled into Fluttershy’s driveway, she waited until Rainbow had turned off the engine before speaking.

“Are you okay?”

Rainbow blinked. “Huh?”

Fluttershy turned to her gently. “You’ve been quiet. Distant. Since lunch, I mean.”

Rainbow hesitated, gripping the wheel tight. “I just…” she started, then stopped to take the key out of the ignition, sitting back in her seat. “I hate that I upset you.”

Fluttershy’s heart flickered. “You didn’t—”

“I did.” Rainbow’s voice was low. “I pushed ahead with the lie, I didn’t check with you first. And now, I just—” She exhaled hard, then turned to look at Fluttershy. “You’re so quiet, Shy. All the time. You don’t say when something’s wrong, you don’t fight back. It’s like you... disappear. And I hate when it’s because of me.”

Fluttershy was quiet for a moment. Then, softly: “I don’t mean to disappear.”

Rainbow stared at the dashboard, uncertain.

“I just…it’s easier for me to work things out in my head. I’m not used to… giving that to people. Letting them in,” Fluttershy admitted.

Rainbow’s shoulders slumped a little with relief. “I don’t want this—us—to make you retreat,” she said, voice sincere now. “You being in your shell again… that’s not what this was supposed to do.”

Fluttershy gave a faint smile. “I know. It’s okay.”

They sat in the stillness of Dash’s idle Prius, the sky now shifting toward indigo, and neither of them moved. Fluttershy’s hands lingered on her seat, turning halfway back toward Rainbow, who still had her hands on the wheel, staring ahead like the road might answer something for her.

Fluttershy tilted her head, voice soft.
“…Is that all that’s bothering you?”

Rainbow’s shoulders tensed just slightly, betraying her. She hesitated.

“…Not really,” she admitted, then shrugged it off. “But it’s nothing. You’ve got enough on your plate with this whole circus, I don’t want to dump more on you.”

Fluttershy didn’t press. Not right away. She just watched her for a moment, trying to read the set of her shoulders, the way her mouth was pulled a little too tight.

“I know I don’t… always say things,” Fluttershy continued. “But I’m here. I promise. Even when I’m quiet.”

Rainbow looked up at her, eyes glassy with something unreadable in the low light. A beat passed. And then she exhaled and leaned forward over the wheel, rubbing the back of her neck.

“…There’s gonna be recruiters at the next game.”

Fluttershy blinked. “From colleges?”

Dash nodded. “Yup. The big ones. Canterlot U, Cloudsdale State. Coach told me this morning.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “That’s amazing, Dash!”

Rainbow let out a hollow laugh. “Is it?”

Fluttershy frowned, caught off guard. “You’re incredible on the field. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Rainbow shifted, kicking one foot against the floor of the car. “I mean, yeah, it’s amazing. But it’s like…” She took a breath, then let it out. “Everything now feels like I’m on a timer. Like every move is being watched under a microscope. I mess up once? That’s it. I’m done. No second chances.” Her voice dropped. “It’s paralyzing.”

Fluttershy’s brows pulled together. “But you’re amazing. You’re the best player they’ve got. Everyone knows that.”

Rainbow smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. Everyone thinks that.” She looked away. “It’s like… every time I walk onto the field, it’s a guessing game. I can barely sleep the night before these days. I rehearse every pass, every sprint, every fake-out in my head a hundred times.  But every time I play, it’s like ....”

There was something raw in her voice now, like a splinter finally being pulled free.

“Like what?” Fluttershy pushed gently.

“Like…. there’s a voice in my head telling me I won’t pull it off.” Dash finally sat back, a dry grin forming on her face. “…You know I was supposed to be captain this year?”

Fluttershy blinked. “Wait—what? But Spitfire—?”

“I won the vote. Coach even told me I had it,” Dash said, voice tight. “But then he sat me down and said I wasn’t ‘consistent’ enough. Too “volatile,” she made air quotes, rolling her eyes, “That I didn’t set a calm example. So he gave it back to her.” She laughed bitterly. “Guess I’m not captain material.”

Fluttershy leaned back against the seat, bringing her hands up to her lap to brush against the linen of her pants.

“That’s not true. You care so much, Rainbow, it’s written all over everything you do.” Fluttershy timidly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and joined Dash’s stare out onto the street. “You… have a good heart.”

Rainbow looked at her then, startled by the sincerity in her voice. “I just… I feel like every good thing I get is by accident. And even when I try to earn it, I screw it up.”

“You push yourself harder than anyone I’ve ever met,” Fluttershy continued gently. “And sometimes I think… maybe you don’t allow yourself to screw up.”

Rainbow didn’t respond at first. Her jaw clenched. Then slowly, she looked away again.

“I… don’t want people to regret believing in me,” she murmured.

Fluttershy’s chest ached at the quiet honesty of it.

“I don’t,” she offered softly.

Dash glanced at her.

“I’ve never regretted it.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything, basking in the safety of the silence.

Then Fluttershy, mustering the faintest flicker of playfulness, cleared her throat.
“…Can I add something to our contract?”

Rainbow blinked. “Uh-oh. Am I about to lose hallway hand-holding privileges?”

Fluttershy laughed under her breath, looking down.  “No. I just…” She peeked up at her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Do you think.. you could keep giving me rides?”

Rainbow looked at her fully now, surprise flickering in her face before softening into something else, something warm. “Really?”

Fluttershy found herself held in Dash’s gaze. “Yeah. Just so, um.” She cleared her throat. “So I don’t have to walk everyday.”

Rainbow continued to look at her, then smiled. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Chapter Text

It’s not that Fluttershy hated people.

She loved seeing the kindness in others, loved the way laughter could bloom so suddenly between her friends, the way a warm gesture or a shared smile could make a hard day a little less difficult. She loved people in theory. Quietly. From a distance.

What she hated were crowds.

She hated noise that pressed in from all sides, or the itchy energy of too many voices trying to be heard at once.

Which is precisely why she lingered at the entrance to the football field, overwhelmed by the color and motion, wishing she had texted Rainbow Dash that she was sick. Who had just slipped her hand into hers.

“C’mon.” Rainbow said under her breath, lips curving into a grin. “Let’s go.”

Fluttershy softly grimaced. “Maybe we could ju-.”

“Aaaand, we’re going in!,” Rainbow replied, tugging her gently forward. “This is important. What kind of couple would we look like if we didn’t show up at the annual charity event together?”

Fluttershy looked away. “A smart kind of couple.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Hurry. Our friends are gonna think I let you chicken out if we don’t show up soon.”

They wove through the maze of tables and streamers decorating the field toward the far corner, where a mismatched grouping of folding chairs and beanbags served as a makeshift hangout for their usual crew.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence,” Applejack said with a lazy grin, crossing her legs. “Y’all get lost behind on the way or just makin’ goo-goo eyes behind the cupcake display?”

Fluttershy felt her ears burn. Rainbow just grinned. “Obviously both.”

Sunset, perched cross-legged on a beanbag, nudged Twilight with her shoulder. “So it’s officially official, huh?”

“I—I mean, it seems that way,” Twilight said, blinking behind her glasses. “I’m still not completely sure how-”

“She means yes,” Sunset corrected, smirking. “You guys are adorable.”

Fluttershy looked down, still red. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Rarity, dressed in an ensemble that was far too elegant for a school fundraiser, sipped politely from her soda. She stayed quiet for a moment, before Fluttershy finally met her eyes. She handed Fluttershy the cup and smiled.

“You guys look lovely together, darling.”

Fluttershy sharply inhaled before taking a sip of Rarity’s cherry Coke Zero. Beside her, Rainbow snorted. “Oh, you’re totally downplaying. I bet you’re already planning our couple’s costume for Halloween, right?”

Fluttershy choked, coughing and hacking suddenly.

Halloween was two months away. Would they really still be doing this, by then?

Rarity blinked in surprise before crossing her arms, deciding to play along. “I already have two mockups in mind,” she replied sweetly.

“Don’t scare her off,” Applejack chuckled, gently patting Fluttershy’s back. She gave a strained smile in return.

Attention was smothering, no matter which kind. Everyone looked happy for them, so effortlessly happy. And she felt frozen, on a stage. A familiar heaviness that was usually caused by her stage fright began to build up in her chest.

“Well, now that the main event’s here,” Sunset said, “we should do the cake walk.”

“The what?” Rainbow blinked.

“You walk in a circle and win a cake if you land on the right number,” Twilight explained. “It’s like musical chairs but edible.”

“I’m in,” Dash said immediately, tugging Fluttershy’s hand. “You coming?”

Fluttershy hesitated. “I—um…”

“I’ll walk with her,” Rarity offered gently, picking up on her unease. “I’ve got my eye on that black forest anyway.”

The group split up briefly—Rainbow, Sunset, and Applejack diving into the circles while Fluttershy and Rarity paced slowly behind them. Rarity kept her steps slow, letting the noise settle before speaking again.

“So?” she said softly, brushing a curl from her shoulder. “How are you feeling about all this?”

Fluttershy gave a small smile. “I think I’m managing.”

Rarity’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but before Fluttershy could reassure her, Rainbow called across the circles, holding up two tiny paper plates.

“One of them’s lemon!” she shouted. “Your favorite!”

Fluttershy’s heart tugged in two directions at once, as she hastily sped up to meet the guitarist.

After a very frantic cake walk, including Rainbow taking over as Fluttershy’s unofficial coach, (“I’m getting you that cake,” she declared through gritted teeth), and a buttercream stain on Sunset’s leather jacket courtesy of Pinkie Pie, they had regrouped.

“Here you go, sugarcube.” Applejack handed a chocolate-cherry slice to Rarity, who stammered out a very flustered “Th-thank you, darling.” Everyone began chatting over bites of cake and filling Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash in on the mishap involving the dunking machine earlier that morning. Dash sat beside Fluttershy on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, shoulder bumping hers every so often like it was instinct.

It was fun, Fluttershy had realized. She found herself smiling, enjoying her friends’ company with Rainbow next to her. It was these moments in between the large facade that made her forget it wasn’t real. That Dash’s hand didn’t actually fit so well in hers, that she wouldn’t normally intimidate other students just to get her a store-bought slice of lemon cake. And for a moment, she felt happy. 

But then, as Rainbow got up to throw away a plate, Fluttershy caught sight of something approaching that chilled her from the inside. A certain redhead in a loose tank top and jeans, sauntering straight towards them. .

Fluttershy’s eyes zeroed in on Spitfire, her arms crossed, windy blowing cooly through her short hair. The CHS women’s soccer captain’s expression was unreadable, but sharp in a way that made Fluttershy’s stomach twist.

Rainbow turned back, oblivious, but Fluttershy couldn’t unsee it. She pointed behind her tentative, making Dash’s brows knit together, “Um.”

Spitfire was next to Rainbow then, casually slipping her hands in her pocket and nodding her up in greeting. Fluttershy felt stupid, still sitting on the grass a few feet away, but wasn’t sure if standing up was permissible. Would a girlfr-...fake girlfriend greet her fake partner’s friends with her?

Dash’s expression was neutral, but laced with something tense that Fluttershy couldn’t identify. The athlete shook her head, before smiling and letting out a teasing, “...Yes?”

Spitfire chuckled. “Didn’t know you were coming to this,” she said, voice even and controlled. She offered a slow smile. “Not usually your kind of scene, is it?”

Rainbow shrugged, casual. “Guess I’ve got range.”

Spitfire’s eyes moved between the two of them, Fluttershy sitting awkwardly behind Dash, and lingered before landing finally on the athlete. “You’re full of surprises lately.” There was something in her tone that made the words hang differently, which made Fluttershy frown.

Before Rainbow could respond, Spitfire turned her attention fully to Fluttershy. She crouched just slightly, lowering herself to her level, eyes narrowing with interest, or something resembling it. “You’re a quiet one, huh?”

Fluttershy didn’t answer. Her voice caught in her throat.

Spitfire reached out, fingers stiffly offering a handshake. Fluttershy took it, her pale hands and baby pink polish gently meeting the redhead’s firm shake. Fluttershy’s breath hitched. She pulled her hand back then, barely a twitch, but Spitfire caught the movement and smiled like she’d won something.

Rainbow’s voice cut through the silence, sharp. “Did you need anything, or…?”

Spitfire straightened slowly, brushing imaginary dirt from her palm. She didn’t look at Dash, her eyes stayed on Fluttershy a beat longer, unreadable.

Then, with a nod toward Dash, she said, “You know where to find me.” She turned and walked off, not looking back once.

Fluttershy was frozen. Rainbow exhaled, like she’d been holding something in.

Then Dash turned, saw the look on Fluttershy’s face, and something in her expression shifted instantly. A slow grin crept across her face, and she tilted her head as if trying to discern what Fluttershy was thinking. Then, without a word, she grabbed Fluttershy’s hand and started pulling her up.

Rainbow began jogging south of the cake walk, tugging her insistently. “C’mere.”

“What! Dash-” Fluttershy pulled up her tank top strap as it fell down her shoulder from the sudden impact. Rainbow pulled them past the art auction, the dunking machine, all the way to the edge of the field, by the photo booth.

“Okay, this is too good,” she said, taking out her phone to pay for a picture strip.

“What?” Fluttershy blinked. “No, I—Rainbow, I really don’t think—”

“Just one,” Rainbow grinned at her, eyes almost begging. “For the bit.”

After a beat, Fluttershy sighed. “Fine. Just one.”

Before the taller girl could change her mind, they were inside the curtained booth, knees brushing on the tiny stool as Rainbow fiddled with the touchscreen.

“You ready?”

Fluttershy tried to smile. “I guess—”

FLASH.

She’d barely gotten the sentence out.

Rainbow laughed. “Okay, that was my bad. One more. This time I won’t scare you.”

Fluttershy nodded, adjusting slightly. She felt Rainbow shift closer, their shoulders pressed together.

3… 2…, the screen read.

Rainbow turned her face toward her just as Fluttershy smiled softly.

1. FLASH.

Afterward, they waited for the little photo strip to print. Fluttershy stared at the tiny screen, heart clenching in her chest. In the second photo, Rainbow was half-laughing, half-serious, gazing at her with an expression so dangerous, so something she wasn’t prepared for, she had to peel her eyes away.

“Sick,” Rainbow said, flicking the strip once before tucking it in her jacket pocket. “We can head back, now.”

That kernel of dread at the back of Fluttershy’s mind had only grown the few days following the fundraiser. She spent that evening staring at the edge of the first photo, now sitting on her desk, curled up on her bed with her knees tucked close, as if she could press her chest small enough to smother the feelings completely.

She thought back to that day, when Rainbow pulled her up and led her to the photobooth. Fluttershy wondered if the disappointment upon meeting Spitfire was evident on her face.

Was she trying to cheer me up?

No. Why would Dash do that? 

But, she always has, hasn’t she?

I know I’m not supposed to care what people say. I know I’m supposed to ignore it. "Sticks and stones," and all that. But it was hard for me today. When I missed the ball in gym and tripped over my own feet, again, I heard those two guys from the bleachers. They said I was like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time, and I just wanted to disappear right then and there.

And then you stepped in. You didn’t yell. You didn’t curse or shove anyone. You just turned around, dead calm, looked right at them, and said: “Cool. Keep talking. I’ll remember your names when we’re picking teams, next time.”

And just like that, quiet. You didn’t even look at me. You just tossed me the ball and said, "C’mon, focus, Shy."

And I know I should’ve said something after. I should’ve thanked you. But I didn’t know how. I still don’t. So I’m writing this instead. Because Rainbow, it meant everything. You didn’t treat me like I was fragile. You didn’t talk over me or make it worse by making it loud. You stood beside me. You gave me my dignity. You always make it seem so easy, standing up and speaking out. And today, you used that strength for me. You made me feel like I mattered, like I belonged.

And it’s not the first time. But somehow, it always feels brand new. That’s one of the reasons I’m in love with you, I think. You never let people treat others like they’re small. You make them stand taller, just by standing next to you.

Yours, 

Fluttershy

Fluttershy groaned, burying her head in the pillows. 

The more she stared at the photo strip, the more real it felt. The closeness. The grin. The way Rainbow Dash had looked at her.

But it wasn’t real. And Fluttershy hated how much it meant to her. She hated that it meant anything at all.

Because she knew better. The photo, the hand-holding, the running through the field—it wasn’t proof of anything except that Rainbow could sell the story. That the plan was working. So why couldn’t Fluttershy just get over her?

She kept repeating, “It’s not real,” in her head, like a mantra. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real. Still, the heat that had bloomed in her cheeks during the countdown lingered like a terrible burn. She let out a shaky breath and flopped onto her side.

“It’s not real,” she whispered aloud this time, to the ceiling. Her voice cracked in the middle.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Treehugger’s comment from her shift at the shelter a couple days back drifted in her ear. "You’ve got to catch up with those funky bumps in your energy man. Figure out what they want."

Fluttershy scrunched her eyes shut. Of course she knew what she wanted. That was the problem. 

She had admittedly been avoiding Treehugger ever since the incident. She’d been intentional about it, too, dodging texts, changing her route in the hall, always offering a smile but never staying long enough for it to become a conversation. She couldn’t lie to Treehugger. Not convincingly. Not for long.

And she was having an even harder time lying to herself. 

Which is precisely why when the final bell rang the next day, and Rainbow had sent her the “See you soon!” text that always came before her practices, Fluttershy knew she couldn’t go alone this time. Why, she shyly tugged on Rarity’s arm asking her to come along, only to receive a pair of narrow eyes and, “I really wish I could, but I’m heading to Sweetie Belle’s cello recital tonight, and I promised I’d braid her hair first or she’ll never forgive me.” Why, when she turned on her heel and walked directly into Applejack rounding the corner, she sputtered out a halting, “Applejack!”

“Whoa there,” AJ said, catching her elbow. “You good?”

Fluttershy blinked up at her. And without giving her brain a chance to protest, she said, “Do you want to come to Rainbow Dash’s practice with me?”

“Uh. Beg pardon?”

Rainbow spotted them the moment she stepped off the field for water. Fluttershy seated neatly on the bottom bleacher, Applejack sprawled beside her with one foot up on the railing. 

She jogged over to the pair, swiping sweat from her forehead. “Hey,” she said, panting. “You made it.”

Fluttershy smiled nervously. “Of course.”

Then Dash glanced at Applejack. “Uh. Didn’t expect you.”

“She invited me,” AJ said simply, crossing her arms.

Rainbow’s gaze snapped to Fluttershy. “You okay?”

“Fine!” Fluttershy squeaked. 

Dash blinked. “Right. Sure.”

There was a long pause.

Applejack broke it. “Well, go on. Don’t let us keep you from runnin’ around in the dirt.”

Rainbow made a face, but nodded. “Catch you later.”

As she jogged back onto the field, Fluttershy sank into the bleachers beside Applejack, very aware of how suspiciously silent she’d been the whole time. 

The afternoon sun had cast warm gold over the women' s varsity soccer team as they ran their drills. The sharp clap of the ball echoed against the metal bleachers, quick and rhythmic. 

She risked a sideways glance. Applejack hadn't said much since they sat down, but her expression wasn’t exactly unreadable.

“You’re real jittery today, y’know that?” Applejack said, not even looking over.

Fluttershy froze. “I said it was fine!” she responded defensively.

“Mmhmm.” Applejack scooted a bit closer. “Sure you are. Sittin’ like a statue and talkin’ like a mouse.”

“I just…” Fluttershy swallowed. “Didn’t want to sit alone.”

“Didn’t want to, or couldn’t stand the thought of bein’ alone with her?” Applejack teased, raising an eyebrow.

Fluttershy blushed profusely. “I don’t know. Maybe both.”

Applejack chuckled, nudging Fluttershy’s leg with the toe of her boot. “You’re a mess.”

“I’m trying,” Fluttershy murmured. 

Applejack sighed, folding her arms and looking back out at the field. “You know, when Dash told me y’all were together, I didn’t believe her at first.”

Fluttershy’s head snapped toward her. “Oh.”

“Not ‘cause I didn’t think it could happen,” Applejack added quickly. “Hell, I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But it just... surprised me, is all. Thought maybe I’d missed a chapter or two somewhere.”

Fluttershy couldn’t help but part her lips, not knowing how to sit with the information. 

Applejack shrugged. “But the more I sat with it, the more it made sense. Y’all balance each other out. Always kinda have.” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek slowly, then leaned in just a little, her voice low and honest.

“Look, sugarcube. I’ve spent a hell of a long time with Rainbow. She’s loud, she’s reckless, and sometimes she don’t think before she speaks. But when she cares about something? She cares hard. Whole heart and all.” She nudged Fluttershy’s knee with her own. “If she’s with you, she ain’t doin’ it halfway.”

Fluttershy felt a swell of something warm, and horribly misplaced, press against her ribs.

“She just likes things bold,” Applejack continued. “Loud. Clear. Doesn’t mean you gotta be the same way, but it does mean you gotta meet her somewhere in the middle. Hold her hand. Maybe actually look her in the eye.”

Fluttershy blinked, eyes stinging slightly. “I just… don’t know if she wants me to,” she replied honestly.

“Well, that’s the first thing you gotta change.” Applejack smiled. “Trust me, she thinks you hang the stars.”

Fluttershy didn’t know what to say to that.

Applejack leaned back on her palms. “Don’t let her do all the work. You don’t gotta be just like her, but you do gotta show up. Let her see she ain’t in it alone.”

Fluttershy nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. A part of her wanted, so badly, for the advice to be real- for Applejack to be right. She let herself relax slightly, brushing a hand through her hair and sighing. 

“And next time,” Applejack added, smirking, “maybe work up the nerve to come to her practice without draggin’ your friend along for moral support.”

Fluttershy laughed, a quiet, surprised sound, and Applejack grinned at her in return.

They both turned their attention back to the field, watching as Rainbow sprinted for the ball again, fast and determined as ever. Fluttershy caught the slight tilt of her shoulders, the focus in her eyes, the way she barely hesitated before swinging her foot forward.

The ball soared past the goalie, right into the back of the net.

The team let out a chorus of cheers as Rainbow slowed to a jog, grinning and pumping her fist. Spitfire blew the whistle sharply from the sideline, calling for a five-minute break.

“Nice shot, Dash!” one of the girls yelled as Rainbow tossed her sweat-dampened bangs out of her eyes and started jogging toward the bleachers.

Fluttershy’s heart pounded the closer she got. She instinctively smoothed her skirt and sat a little straighter.

Rainbow slowed to a stop in front of them, breathless and flushed with adrenaline. “Did you see that?” she beamed, slightly leaning on the fence that separated the field from the stands.

“We sure did,” Applejack said, tipping her hat. “Not bad for someone who once tripped over her own cleats in ninth grade.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes but grinned, then turned to Fluttershy. “Hey, I want you to meet the team.”

Fluttershy blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, offering her hand to help her up. “They’ve been dying to meet you.”

Fluttershy hesitated, then took her hand and let Rainbow lead her toward the field, Applejack trailing behind with a knowing smile.

“Everyone, this is Fluttershy,” Rainbow announced to the small cluster of players now gathered near the benches. “She’s—uh—my girlfriend.”

Fluttershy nearly winced at the word, but smiled shyly and gave a small wave. “Hi.”

“Wait,” said a short, freckled midfielder with her hair in two braided buns. “You’re Fluttershy? No way, you helped me with that lit presentation last semester. Miss Scroll said it was the best thing I’d ever turned in.”

Fluttershy blinked, startled. “Oh, yes. I remember you. Ruby, right?”

“Yup!” Ruby grinned. “Dude, I still don’t understand half of what Brontë was trying to say, but you made it almost tolerable.”

That drew a few laughs from the rest of the girls. Rainbow chuckled beside her, shoulders relaxing just a little.

“Most of that work was yours.” Fluttershy smiled warmly. “I just helped organize your notes a little.”

“Are you kidding? Miss Scroll said it was the first project I turned in that didn’t make her want to retire. She actually smiled.”

A tall brunette with an undercut laughed. “Wait, Scroll can smile? Must have been a hell of a presentation.”

“She’s like an academic ninja or something,” Ruby said. 

One of the midfielders, Thunderlane, Fluttershy had remembered from a past history class, leaned toward Rainbow at that, elbowing her playfully. “Look at you. Hangin’ out with an intellect. Crash has gone soft.”

“Oh, definitely soft,” someone added. “She’s bringing her girl to practice- what happened to that punk skater who broke a window with a soccer ball freshman year?”

“Character development,” Rainbow muttered under her breath, though her smirk gave her away. “And I didn’t break the window. It was a crack.”

“Right,” said Ruby. “You’re, like, the emotionally stable one now. Terrifying.”

Fluttershy ducked her head, giggling softly. She risked a glance at Rainbow, who winked at her in response, a little sheepish, a little proud. The taller girl felt a wave of confidence in return.

“Oh, don’t worry. I know Mr. Graham was very thrilled to have help with mopping the floors that semester.” Fluttershy remarked, to which Rainbow playfully flicked her cheek, pursing her lips into an embarrassed smile. The team roared with laughter.

“I like her,” said the defender. “Keep her around.”

Fluttershy tried to stifle a giggle. Another player, with bright green cleats and a ponytail high on her head, nudged Fluttershy. “You ever played before?”

“Soccer?” Fluttershy asked, wide-eyed. “Oh no. I’m not very coordinated.”

“Well, you don’t have to be coordinated to hang with us,” Ruby said. “We’re like a found family, honestly. Except way sweatier.”

“Speak for yourself,” Thunderlane snorted. “I smell amazing.”

“You smell like turf burn.”

More laughter.

And through it all, Fluttershy kept smiling, heart warming at the easy, teasing rhythm of their conversation. She hadn’t expected to find herself relaxing so much, to fit in so well. And yet, here she was, standing beside Rainbow Dash, her hand occasionally brushing against her arm, and for a moment, it wasn’t the kind of attention that made her want to disappear. Somehow, this felt safe.

All except for one pair of eyes.

From the far end of the bench, Spitfire stood sipping from her water bottle, not saying a word. Her expression was unreadable, distant. “Alright, lovebirds- water break’s over. Back on the field.”

Fluttershy caught the look and felt her stomach twist, just a little.

Rainbow, thankfully, didn’t notice. She turned back to Fluttershy, softly letting go of her hand to jog back into position, grinning. “Told you they’d like you.”

Fluttershy felt the warm hand slip out of hers and offered a small smile. “They’re really nice.” 

And they were. Really. Fluttershy couldn’t help but feel grateful as Applejack tapped her on the shoulder and jabbed her thumb towards the exit. “Well, I’ll leave y’all to it. See ya tomorrow, Fluttershy.” 

She waved goodbye to her honest friend and stared back out at Rainbow Dash. Everything was just as she dreamed, but she shook her hands in her lap to remind herself not to get attached to the feeling.

In fact, she hoped no one in their lives was getting too attached to the idea of them, either.

Fluttershy wasn’t sure whose idea it had been, hers, Rainbow’s, or some shared moment of poor judgment, but she was standing on Rainbow Dash’s front porch the following evening, holding a small tupperware of lemon shortbread cookies and trying not to bolt.

She glanced sideways. Rainbow was leaning casually against the railing, one sneaker resting on the step behind her, like she wasn’t about to take Fluttershy into the lion’s den.

“You okay?” Dash asked, peering over.

Fluttershy nodded, clutching the box tighter. “I’ve known your parents since we were kids.” She let out an exhale. “But I just feel like it will be weird now that…”, she trailed off, looking down at the ground in between their feet.

Rainbow bumped her shoulder lightly. “They’re just my parents, ‘Shy. You’ve known me forever. I’m way scarier.”

That made her smile, a little. Not enough to unclench her jaw.

The door opened before she could respond. A tall man with a thick head of hair and a striking jaw resemblant to Rainbow Dash’s stood there, blinking at them.

“You brought her!” he called over his shoulder. “Honey, she actually brought her!”

“Dad,” Rainbow groaned, pushing the door the rest of the way open. “Don’t make it weird.”

He grinned. “Too late.”

“Come on in,” came a woman’s voice from inside. Rainbow’s mom, Windy, who Fluttershy remembered from countless playdates and birthday parties in elementary school, stepped into view with a warm smile. “It’s lovely to see you again, Fluttershy. Rainbow says you’re dating now?”

Fluttershy choked on air.

“Mom,” Rainbow said, grabbing Fluttershy’s arm and dragging her inside. “Stop. You can interrogate her later.”

The house was cozy, brighter than Fluttershy expected, with an entire wall covered in family photos and framed newspaper clippings of local sports articles, most featuring Rainbow in various stages of victory.

Fluttershy offered the cookies with a “I brought these…”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet?” Windy took them with a genuine smile. “Make yourself at home. Dinner’s just about ready.”

At the table, Rainbow’s dad, Bow, wasted no time.

“So, Fluttershy,” he said, elbow on the table like he was settling in for a good story. “Tell me: what’s it like dating the best women’s varsity leftback in the district?”

“Daaad,” Rainbow groaned again, hiding her face in her palms.

Fluttershy flushed, trying not to shrink in her chair. “Oh, it’s nice.”

Windy laughed. “Oh, how polite,” she cooed.

Fluttershy gave a helpless smile. “She definitely keeps things exciting.”

That earned her a grin from Rainbow, who leaned over just slightly and added, “And Shy’s been amazing.”

The meal was simple but comforting—roasted veggies, pasta, and a tofu dish for Fluttershy that Windy clearly prided herself on, but Fluttershy barely tasted any of it. The conversation flowed easily for everyone but her. Rainbow was relaxed, bantering with her parents and even teasing Fluttershy gently, like it was all second nature. And somehow, that made it worse. They thought this was real. Her stomach knotted tighter.

“So,” Bow said after a beat of silence, “do we get to hear how you two finally got together? Or is that classified?”

Rainbow grinned. “It’s a long story.”

“Oh, those are the good ones,” her mom said, pouring more water.

Fluttershy opened her mouth, searching for something neutral and harmless to say, but Rainbow beat her to it.

“Jeez, mom. Must you know everything about our lives?”

“Oh, sweetheart, let us live,” Windy replied with a grin, handing Fluttershy a second helping. “It’s not every day we get to have a sweet girl like this over for dinner. Plus, honestly, she’s the only person you’ve brought into our home who hasn’t knocked over a lamp or eaten all the ice cream straight from the tub.”

Rainbow groaned, slumping in her seat.

Fluttershy offered a tiny smile, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Thank you. This is all really lovely.”

“You always were a kind one,” Bow added, waving his fork at her in fond recognition. “I remember you from back when you were little. You used to hide behind your parents at the rec soccer meets.”

Rainbow raised a brow. “Wait, really?”

Dash’s mother nodded. “Oh, yes. But don’t let that fool you—this one’s got backbone.” She turned to Fluttershy with a glint in her eye. “Remember the time that one of the older boys was yelling at the ducklings at the pond behind the field, and you walked right over and gave him a talking-to? You couldn’t have been more than seven.”

Fluttershy flushed. “I… barely remember that.”

“Well, I do,” Bow said, smiling. “That kid never messed with those animals again. You stood your ground.”

“She was always a little lion in lamb’s clothing,” Windy added proudly. “Honestly, you two make a great pair.”

Fluttershy felt her stomach tighten. It was meant to be a compliment, but it hit a little too deep. She offered a tight smile. “That’s… kind of you to say.”

Rainbow shifted beside her. “Can we not tell every embarrassing childhood story while Fluttershy’s here?”

“Oh, please. The embarrassing ones are the best part,” Windy laughed. “Besides, it’s cute. You two bring out the best in each other.”

Fluttershy glanced at her, startled by the softness in her tone. Rainbow looked casual, unfazed, but she tapped her fingers gently against her glass, a quiet, almost anxious rhythm.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur. By the end, Fluttershy had relaxed a little, even managing a few shy smiles when Rainbow reached to sneak seconds or when her dad offered her “honorary sports star” status for surviving dinner with them. 

Later, Fluttershy found herself upstairs, next to Rainbow’s room.

“Sorry, it’s a mess,” Rainbow said, kicking aside a hoodie.

Fluttershy stood awkwardly near the wall, looking around. “It’s very… you.”

Rainbow flopped onto her bed with a grin and grabbed a small rubber soccer ball from the nightstand, tossing it lightly from hand to hand. “That’s the goal.”

There was a long, comfortable pause.

Then Rainbow sat up slightly. “Thanks for coming, by the way. I know stuff like this is kinda… intense.”

Fluttershy hesitated, leaning against the wall. “They’re really nice. Your mom’s sweet. Your dad’s funny.”

Rainbow snorted. “Too funny. But they liked you,” she reassured as she pulled out her phone. Fluttershy noticed the way her smile fell and she sighed softly to herself. 

“What is it?” Fluttershy asked, worried.

Rainbow caught the ball and groaned. “Ugh. Nothing. Just… Spitfire.”

Oh.

Dash went on, voice tinged with frustration. “She was weird at the fundraiser. And at practice today. And now I’ve got, like, a thousand texts from her—'work on your passes,' and stuff. Like—what the hell?”

Fluttershy walked gently towards the edge of the bed, sitting down and glancing at Rainbow’s phone where it buzzed again. “Do you think you’ll respond?”

“Nah.” Rainbow shook her head, tossing the ball higher. “Maybe I’ll just, like… call her or something later. When I’m not thinking about drop-kicking my phone.”

Fluttershy nodded, quietly. Her heart thudded heavy in her chest.

Rainbow glanced sideways at her, smirking. “What?”

Fluttershy blinked. “Hm?”

Rainbow narrowed her eyes. “I know you. You’ve got that judgy-face on right now.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened like she’d been caught stealing. “No! No, I’m not judging!”

“Riiight,” Rainbow said, dragging the word out, grinning. “Totally neutral, supportive silence.”

“I just…” Fluttershy swallowed, fingers twisting the hem of her sweater. “It seems like all you two do is… compete. About soccer. And other things.”

Rainbow sighed, catching the ball against her chest. “Well, that’s not all we do…”

Fluttershy raised her eyebrows. Rainbow laughed.

“Okay, yeah. Mostly.”

There was a beat. Fluttershy’s mouth opened before her nerves could stop her. “And you like her? Is that… healthy?” As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. Her breath caught, like she could maybe suck the words back in.

But Rainbow just snorted and grinned, rolling her eyes. “Wowww. Fluttershy.”

“I didn’t mean—” Fluttershy tried, red rushing to her cheeks. “That just came out—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Rainbow flopped back on the bed again, arms stretched above her head. “I mean, you’re not wrong. She can be… discouraging. I get in my head about it.”

Fluttershy turned to look at her. “You do?”

Rainbow nodded. “Like, I’ll nail a drill, and she’ll still find something to nitpick. And half the time I’m just… trying to prove I’m good enough. Like, prove I belong there.”

She let out a breath. “It’s exhausting.”

Fluttershy’s fingers played with the hem of her sweater as she nervously shifted on the edge of the bed. “Are you nervous? About tomorrow?”

Rainbow paused mid-throw.

“I dunno.” she admitted, letting the ball fall beside her. “I mean, it’s not like any other game this time. It’s like… everything I’ve worked for. All in one stupid match.”

Fluttershy turned her head toward her. “You’re ready.”

“I have to be.”

“No,” Fluttershy said more firmly. “You are.”

That made Rainbow pause.

Fluttershy went on, quieter now. “You care so much. You push yourself so hard. That won't go unnoticed.” She bravely leaned back now, lying down next to the other girl.

Rainbow gave a soft, lopsided smile. “You always say the perfect thing.”

Fluttershy blushed, but looked away. “I don’t know about that.”

Silence stretched between them, comfortable this time. Until Rainbow rolled over onto her side to face her.

“Do you ever think about it?” she asked.

Fluttershy blinked. “Think about what?”

“The future. Like… what comes after high school.”

Fluttershy hesitated. “Sometimes. Not often.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “It’s just… scary. Uncertain.”

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah. Same.”

There was a beat. Then Fluttershy asked, “Do you know what you want to do?”

“I mean, I think I want to play soccer in college,” Rainbow said. “Maybe try to go pro someday. But sometimes I worry-like… what if I get there and realize I don’t want it anymore?”

Fluttershy turned her head on the pillow, looking at her more closely. “That’s allowed.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “To give up on your dream?”

“To change it.”

Rainbow hummed. “What about you? You’re probably not too nervous. You’ve got, like, color-coded folders and shit.”

Fluttershy hesitated, then met Dash’s eyes. “I’m so terrified.”

Rainbow blinked, surprised, shifting so that she was fully on her side, facing the taller girl now, “Really?” she whispered. 

Fluttershy hesitated. Then nodded, slowly. “I think…” She swallowed. “I think I’m scared of not becoming who I’m supposed to be.”

Rainbow furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

Fluttershy turned on her side to meet the girl next to her, fingers fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. “Sometimes I think people already have their minds made up about me. That they see me a certain way. And I just… I’m not even sure what I want yet.” Fluttershy rested her head on her hand now, gazing up at the band posters on Dash’s ceiling. “I just know that… sometimes I do things just because people expect me to. Or I let people make up my mind for me. I feel like I’m chasing a version of myself that actually goes out there, that does things, from a window or something. And I’m stuck and….” She glanced down. “What if I’m not brave enough to be that person?”

Rainbow was quiet for a second. “You’re already braver than most people I know.”

Fluttershy met her eyes.

“I mean it,” Rainbow said. “You do things even when they terrify you. That’s what brave is.”

Fluttershy let out a small gasp, then quickly shifted on her back again to avert Dash’s gaze. Sighing, she nervously scratched her cheek before gesturing to the room. “It’s changed a lot.”

Rainbow glanced around like she hadn’t really thought about it until now. “Yeah. I guess it has.”

“Do you remember our playdates? You had that old beanbag chair that squeaked every time we moved.”

Rainbow let out a low laugh. “Oh, wow. I forgot about that. And I spilled juice on it, like, five times.”

“You had those Daring Do sheets too,” Fluttershy added, teasing lightly.

Rainbow groaned, flopping a palm dramatically over her eyes. “Okay, now you’re just bullying me.”

Fluttershy laughed under her breath, then turned to her. “We used to spend almost every weekend together.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, more softly this time. “I kinda miss that.”

Fluttershy nodded, staring down at the sheets. “We didn’t really decide to stop… it just sort of happened.”

“Life got weird,” Rainbow muttered, then added with a half-smile, “and I guess I got really into the whole soccer crowd.”

Fluttershy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I got really into…. avoiding crowds generally.”

Rainbow barked out an endeared laugh. “Fair enough.”

There was a beat before Rainbow continued. “But, like… you could’ve come around more. I-uh.” She looked away. “I think I always wanted you to.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened, careful to not show the surprise she felt. “I don’t know, Dashie. Sometimes it felt like I’d just be tagging along. Like your world was moving so fast, and I’d just slow it down.”

Rainbow sat up slightly, frowning. “You wouldn’t have. I mean—maybe I didn’t say it, but I would've made time for us.” Fluttershy gazed up at her then, touched. “I should have made time for us.” 

That made something swell, tentative and aching, in Fluttershy’s chest. She glanced sideways at Rainbow. The light from the desk lamp caught the edge of her face, softening her usual sharpness. For all her bravado, Rainbow looked just as unsure, just as heavy with things left unsaid.

And maybe that was why Fluttershy moved. Why, before her nerves could stop her, she reached over and gently, quietly, slid her hand into Rainbow’s.

Rainbow froze, not startled, just surprised. Her eyes dropped to their hands, then slowly met Fluttershy’s again. The look on Dash’s face was soft. Like she couldn’t quite believe it. 

It all wrapped around Fluttershy’s heart too tightly, the way Rainbow looked at her, the warm embrace of their hands, the growing feeling that she could tell the girl across from her anything. 

It wasn’t real.

The reminder hit her like a cold wind through an open window. Her fingers tensed before she gently, almost guiltily, slipped her hand out of Rainbow’s.

Rainbow blinked. “Fluttershy—?”

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said quickly, getting up. “I—I should probably head home.”

Rainbow sat up too, facing away from the taller girl and nodding quickly. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll drive.”

Chapter Text

Fluttershy was packing up her notes from her French class as the room emptied slowly, the bell’s echo still humming in her chest as she clutched her folder to her chest and stepped outside. The air was thick with late-afternoon warmth, bees drifting lazily between flowerbeds, and just beyond the edge of the stone path, Fluttershy could recognize her friend.

Treehugger was already in the garden. She sat cross-legged in the grass beneath the willow tree, her shoes kicked off beside her and her watering can in her lap, eyes closed from her mid-day meditation. 

It’s been over a week since Fluttershy’s spoken to Treehugger, feeling the weight of dread in her chest grow heavier every time she avoided her. She hadn’t done anything to deserve being caught in the fallout of Fluttershy’s mess, but she had been anyway.

And maybe this was her chance to make at least one thing right again.

Seeing her sitting in the garden, so serene and kind and unsuspecting, it hurt. As the sound of her footsteps hit the soil, Treehugger opened her eyes and smiled.

“Hey, Flutters.”

Something inside Fluttershy crumpled.

She walked over slowly, quietly settling down on the grass beside her. Her hands fidgeted in her lap. She hurriedly reached for a pair of gloves, fiddling with them as she kneeled down next to Treehugger.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Treehugger blinked lazily, twirling a strawberry flower in between her fingers. “For what, dude?”

“For... for avoiding you.” Fluttershy’s throat tightened. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. I just-” She paused, struggling to put the mess in her chest into words. “Things have gotten really complicated.”

Treehugger gave her a long, mellow look, head tilted. “It’s okay. You don’t owe me every wavelength of your time, Fluttershy. But if something’s weighing you down?” She set the watering can aside and leaned in slightly, voice softer now. “I’m here. You know that, right?”

The simple earnestness of it—I’m here—broke something open.

Fluttershy blinked rapidly. “I… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

And then the tears came.

The garden had grown quieter, a gentle breeze moved through the lavender bushes, and the pair had found themselves sitting shoulder to shoulder against the bed of strawberries. Treehugger’s fingers brushed through Fluttershy’s hair in slow, rhythmic motions.

Fluttershy’s eyes were puffy, and her voice had gone hoarse from crying. “Treehugger, I’ve messed everything up so much. I didn’t mean for all of this to happen-I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“Mmm,” Treehugger hummed, gently twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. “You didn’t mess up anything, Flutters. And if I’m being transparent,” she paused her brushing to look the taller girl in the eye, “I think the person you’re being the hardest on is yourself, man.”

“I can’t believe how far the lie has gone,” Fluttershy said. “This whole time. I told Dash the letter was for you because I panicked, and I honestly didn’t think it’d lead to this. And now everything is just horrible,” she choked out.

Treehugger didn’t flinch. Her expression stayed as calm as the breeze. “Whoa, whoa. That’s, like… intense karmic entanglement, girl.”

Fluttershy let out a tiny, miserable laugh. “I don’t even know who I’m pretending for anymore.”

Treehugger leaned her head back against the tree trunk, eyes half-lidded. “Vibes like these? They only spiral if you keep bottling them up. You’re holding all this gnarly energy inside, and it’s just clogging your flow.”

Fluttershy blinked up at her. “My… flow?”

“Yeah, like—your alignment.” She smiled, dreamy but sincere. “When your heart’s outta whack, it throws everything else off. You gotta, like, speak your truth, let it breathe.”

Fluttershy stared at the sky, unsure whether to cry again or laugh.

“I don’t think I’m very good at that,” she said quietly.

Treehugger’s voice softened, like the breeze through the willow. “You’ve always been good at that. Just not with yourself.”

That part struck something deep. Fluttershy blinked rapidly. “I want to tell her. I really do.”

“Then ride that wave,” Treehugger murmured, eyes drifting closed. “Let the universe do its thing. It usually knows where you’re supposed to land.”

Fluttershy didn’t answer right away.

But her gaze caught something in the distance-colorful and sharp, laughing with someone at the far end of the quad.

Her. 

Fluttershy’s heart gave a low, aching thud.

Treehugger followed her gaze, smiling lazily. “You feel it, don’t you?”

Fluttershy nodded once, barely

Treehugger smiled. “Then don’t keep all that love trapped inside.”

Fridays were their designated courtyard lunch “dates”- per the contract. Fluttershy sat cross-legged on the yellow stone bench, a chemistry workbook open in her lap. Across from her, Rainbow Dash slouched backward with one leg stretched out and a lazy smile that barely hid the restless tap of her fingers on the seat. 

Their performative hand-holding reminded Fluttershy of the words that had been pressing at her lips the whole afternoon: I need to tell you something. But they never quite made it out.

Because every time she got close, her mind leapt to the worst-case scenario: Rainbow’s smile falling. Her pulling her hand away. The realization settling in that none of it had ever meant the same thing to her.

Fluttershy wasn’t sure she could survive seeing that.

But she also wasn’t sure how much longer she could survive not knowing. She felt like a liar. A coward. And the longer she stayed silent, the more it felt like she was letting herself rot from the inside-

She jumped slightly when Rainbow nudged her foot.

“You’re suuuper quiet today. Even for you.”

Fluttershy glanced up, blinking. “Oh. Sorry, I don’t mean to.”

Dash tilted her head. “What’s on your mind?”

Fluttershy hesitated. She could feel it, the heaviness of everything pressing against her lungs. Maybe it would help to say it, even a little?

“I talked to Treehugger today,” she said, smoothing a corner of the workbook.

Rainbow’s brow lifted. “Yeah? First time in a while, right?”

Fluttershy nodded. “I’ve been… avoiding her. But I finally saw her after class. She was out in the garden.”

Rainbow sat up a little. “Was she mad?”

“No,” Fluttershy said softly. “That’s what made it worse. She was just calm. Understanding. She always sees through things, even when I don’t want her to.” Her voice wavered. 

Rainbow didn’t say anything right away. Her eyes had softened, but there was a flicker of something else in them, something tense. She tilted her head, her expression remaining generally neutral on her face. “That… sounds like her.”

Fluttershy nodded. “It was nice to talk to her about some things.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re okay now. We’re… just friends.”

Rainbow blinked, surprised. “Wait-what? Seriously?”

Fluttershy let out a quiet breath, a small smile forming. “It was never really anything more, I don’t think. I think I was… confused.”

Rainbow was watching her now, more closely than before. Like the air between them had shifted, though Fluttershy couldn’t quite name how.

Before she could figure out what that meant, a voice rang out behind them.

“Hey, Dash!”

They both turned to see Spitfire emerging from one of the nearby classrooms, slinging her sports bag over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to Fluttershy only briefly before locking on Rainbow.

“You ready for tonight?” Spitfire asked, walking up with a smirk. “I heard the Crystal Prep captain’s got a cannon for a leg. Might wanna watch your face.”

Fluttershy hated the way Rainbow sat up a little taller. “Please. I’ve been dodging cannonballs since JV.”

Spitfire chuckled and gave her a pat on the arm. “Don’t get cocky, hotshot. You’ve got a lot riding on this one.” There was something light and teasing in her tone, something that made Fluttershy’s cheeks flush with shame, as the banter between them felt foreign to her. 

Fluttershy’s fingers had slipped from Rainbow’s hand sometime during the exchange. She hadn’t noticed until she glanced down and saw her palm sitting empty in her lap.

Spitfire winked and turned to go. “See you on the field.”

When she was gone, Rainbow looked back at Fluttershy- something unreadable and wavering swimming around in her eyes.

Fluttershy tried to smile, but it didn’t reach all the way. Her gaze dropped again. “Well, I guess there’s still a reason for all this,” she said quietly.

Rainbow opened her mouth. “Fluttershy—”

But Fluttershy cut in, turning a page in her workbook, and mentally shoving down the rest of what she was planning to say. “We should go over the acid-base section again. If it’s on the quiz next period…”

Rainbow hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sure.”

They didn’t hold hands again after that.

But Rainbow didn’t stop watching her, like she was trying to figure out how to say something she hadn’t found the words for yet.

And Fluttershy pretended not to notice.

Band practice was absolute chaos.

The gig was less than twenty-four hours away, and nerves were buzzing under everyone’s skin. They were running through the setlist one more time, fast, nearly breathless, with the goal of ending early enough for Rainbow Dash to warm up before the big game.

“Okay, again from the bridge!” Dash hollered from the front of the room, throwing off her jacket.

“I thought that one was fine,” Sunset muttered, already retuning her guitar. “Felt good to me.”

“You missed a few chords,” Dash replied curtly, not looking up. “And AJ came in too early.”

“Sorry, y’all!” Applejack winced, tightening her grip on her bass. “Got a whole mess of plays and formations runnin’ through my head. I’ll get it right this time.”

Fluttershy watched Dash from the other side of the music room, perched behind her mic stand. There was sweat on Rainbow’s brow, even in the air-conditioned room, and tension in her shoulders. But the moment she lifted her head to sing, she looked electric.

They counted off again.

As the verse started, Fluttershy began to sing as well, soft but steady, and felt Rainbow’s eyes on her immediately.

Her gaze burned with something focused, almost reverent. Like she was watching the music form in real time, watching Fluttershy form in real time. It made Fluttershy falter for half a beat, her heart stuttering with it, but she recovered quickly. Kept singing.

But she didn’t know what to do with the heat prickling her cheeks.

The rest of the song soared, stronger than the last time. Somehow, despite everything, they sounded good. Really good.

As the final chord rang out and the echo settled, Rarity smiled, smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well,” she said, voice airy and refined, “if nothing else, we’ll at least look like a professional band.”

“You finished the outfits?” Twilight asked, eyebrows lifting.

“Naturally.” Rarity’s smile widened. “They’ll be ready first thing tomorrow.”

“Guess I’ll actually brush my hair then,” Applejack said with a smirk, bumping Rarity’s shoulder as she walked past to pack up her amp.

“Oh, please,” Rarity drawled, eyes glinting. “We both know who that’s actually for.”

Applejack sputtered, caught somewhere between a laugh and a choke. “You—what—”

Rarity only tossed her hair over her shoulder, already moving on to tuck away her garment bag.

As the room started to clear out, Rainbow lingered near the guitar case, zipping and unzipping it repeatedly, not really doing anything. Fluttershy packed up her tambourine, sliding the stand gently into its case.

Rainbow finally spoke from across the room. “Hey.”

Fluttershy looked up. “Yeah?”

Rainbow scratched the back of her neck. “I… I obviously can’t give you a ride tonight.”

“Oh. That’s okay.” Fluttershy started wrapping her mic cord. “I’ll see you at the game.”

Rainbow shifted on her feet. “Thanks. But I was, uh… wondering something else.”

She stepped closer, tentatively. Not like her usual confident strut. Then, slowly, she reached out and took Fluttershy’s hand. It was small and subtle, the way her fingers curled gently around Fluttershy’s, grounding her. Fluttershy glanced at her, startled.

Rainbow looked at her with a focus she usually saved for the soccer field. “You should… come to the afterparty this time. You don’t have to stay long, and I’ll take you home. I just… I’d really like it if you were there.”

Fluttershy blinked. “Really?”

Rainbow frowned. “Uh…yeah. Really.”

Fluttershy waited, searching her face. “Why?”

Rainbow shifted, suddenly looking like she wanted to be anywhere but under Fluttershy’s gaze. “Uh… because…”

Fluttershy nodded, awaiting an answer, but Rainbow could only manage to clear her throat. The taller girl sighed and looked away, shifting her tambourine case against her hip. “Well, I don’t know…”

Rainbow’s grip on her hand loosened a little. “Hey, you don’t have to. I just thought—”

“It’s not that,” Fluttershy cut in quickly, shaking her head. Her voice was small, but urgent. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Rainbow tilted her head, watching her carefully. “Then what?”

Fluttershy hesitated. “Well… I just thought… after the game? Wouldn’t you rather… spend time with her?”

Dash furrowed her brows, looking at Fluttershy with a slightly bemused expression. “Who?” 

Fluttershy glanced to the side, before meeting Rainbow’s eyes, “...Spitfire?” she spelled out. Obviously, she thought. 

Dash’s eyes widened, and in a very awkward, very un-Rainbow way, she sputtered, “O-oh! No, that’s not… I mean, why do you…” She shifted again, restless. 

Fluttershy wasn’t sure how to respond, “It’s just that-I-I’m not sure what I’d do there, to be honest…”

Rainbow huffed out a laugh, a little too sharp. “Fluttershy, c’mon. You think I’d just leave you stranded?”

Her attempt at lightness only made Fluttershy’s cheeks burn hotter. “No, I just…I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

Rainbow rubbed at the back of her neck, restless, her eyes darting away for a second before snapping back. “Look, Spitfire…that’s not—” She broke off, running a hand through her hair. “That’s not why I’m asking you.”

“Then why?” Fluttershy whispered.

Rainbow opened her mouth, closed it again, clearly floundering. Her foot tapped once against the floor, her shoulders tense like she was fighting herself. For a moment she looked like she might just drop it, laugh it off like she always did. But then her eyes locked on Fluttershy’s, steady and unguarded.

“I don’t care about Spitfire,” Rainbow said finally, voice low but certain, though it trembled faintly at the edges. Her grip on Fluttershy’s hand tightened. “I want to be there with you.”

Fluttershy’s breath caught. The room seemed to tilt, like she’d misheard, but the heat in Rainbow’s eyes said she hadn’t.

“…Okay,” Fluttershy whispered, her chest aching. “I’ll come.”

Rainbow’s shoulders relaxed, just barely. She nodded once, giving Fluttershy’s hand a small squeeze before letting go.

And for the briefest moment before she turned away, Rainbow smiled at her, unguarded, exactly the kind of smile Fluttershy had always dreamed of.

For the first time in days, something warm bloomed under the dread.

That delightful heat in her cheeks followed her home as she briskly walked, the early evening breeze tugging gently at her hair. 

With each step, a surprising confidence grew inside her, steady and warm. The memory of Rainbow’s face—the way her eyes had lingered on Fluttershy a moment too long, the subtle squeeze of her hand, “You’re already braver than anyone I know”, fueled a quiet determination. For so long, she had hidden behind fear and doubt, but now, a small voice inside encouraged her to be brave, to finally reveal what she truly felt.

When Fluttershy stepped into her room, the familiar quiet wrapped around her like a soft blanket. She set her bag down gently on the bed and opened her closet, carefully scanning, filled with cream tones and pastels. After a moment, she pulled out a simple but nice outfit—an eggshell babydoll dress with delicate white embroidery and a pair of brown boots. She hummed to herself as she hastily sprayed some rosy perfume around her neck before turning to the mirror briefly. 

Normally, she wouldn’t spare herself more than a glance, but this time, she excitedly spun around, imagining how Rainbow might react. “You should let yourself be seen, darling”, Rarity’s voice rang through her mind. She pictured Dash’s easy grin and how her eyes always seemed to sparkle when they were together. Maybe, she thought, Dash would like it. Maybe she’d notice the little things Fluttershy put into these moments, even if they weren’t officially real yet.

With that thought warming her chest, she stepped into the closet with her sage green tote, finally reaching the back. Taking a breath, she gently picked up the letters and tucked them neatly in her bag. Smiling to herself, she grabbed her phone before turning off the light and heading back to the school.

The field lights blazed in the distance, casting wide beams of light against the dusk. A low hum of chatter filled the air, students and parents crowding into the bleachers, waving school banners and sipping from paper cups. The air buzzed with loud anticipation.

Fluttershy hovered near the entrance to the soccer field, bag over her shoulder, fingers clutching the strap with more force than necessary. Her dress was soft against the early evening breeze, and her long hair flew neatly behind her neck. She tried not to fidget…too much.

“There she is!” Pinkie Pie’s voice rang out from across the sidewalk, and in moments, the whole group was there. Twilight was carrying pamphlets for everyone, and Pinkie was already halfway through a bag of cotton candy she’d snuck past the gate.

Rarity looked her over and smiled. “Darling, that getup is adorable. Cream is definitely your color.”

Fluttershy blushed, fingers brushing the hem. “Oh. Thank you,” she paused, “It’s not too much?”

“You could never be too much,” Rarity assured, linking her arm with hers as they began walking toward the bleachers.

Applejack tipped her hat back with a grin. “Hope y’all brought your yelling voices. Dash is gonna need us.”

Pinkie beamed. “Oh! I brought a kazoo.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow as she took her seat. “That’s not really the same as yelling.”

They settled in about halfway up the bleachers, right behind the student section but still close enough to see the field clearly. The bleachers were cold against Fluttershy’s bare legs, but being tucked in between Rarity and Sunset helped compensate.

The announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers. “And now, your Canterlot High Varsity Women’s Soccer Team!”

Cheers erupted as the team jogged onto the field, blue and white jerseys flashing under the lights. Rainbow Dash was easy to spot- shaggy, dyed hair tied up in a ponytail. Her layers were so choppy that Fluttershy could notice the various pins Rainbow likely jammed onto her head haphazardly, which made her smile to herself. As she jogged out in the front, head high, shoulders tight with nerves, she flashed her usual lopsided grin. But as she reached the center, waiting for the coin toss, her eyes scanned the stands, skimming the crowd, like she was looking for something.

And then they landed on Fluttershy.

For a heartbeat, she didn’t smile, just stared. Then, slowly, the tension in her shoulders eased. Her mouth curved, barely there, and she tilted her chin up in acknowledgment.

Fluttershy’s breath caught. Her fingers curled around the edge of her seat as she returned the soft smile. Dash took a small breath in return, then locked her gaze towards the field, bouncing between her feet a little. 

Spitfire gathered the team for a huddle, and moments later the girls were kneeling together in a circle. Fluttershy ignored Sunset’s comment about it being “a little cultish” as she stared out onto the field with a newfound intensity. The team had put their hands in, before pumping them up with a “Break, Wondercolts!” and dispersing out onto the field. 

“This is the final game, a big moment here…” The announcer narrated. Fluttershy took another breath at the same time she saw Dash exhale.

Then the whistle blew. 

“Aaaand here we go!”

Suddenly, everyone was everywhere at once. The girls could barely keep Rainbow in their sight as teammates dashed up the field, dodging defenders with the kind of speed that made their ponytails and buns whip. Every kick was precise, fast, blisteringly bold. 

“Long pass goes to Rainbow Dash. And she dishes off to Ruby.”

Ruby was running along the grass until a Crystal Prep defender with purple ponytails soared past her, stealing the ball. 

“Smooth block by Crystal Prep! And a pass… point to Crystal Prep! That’s one-zip!” 

Fluttershy could feel Rarity’s breath hitch beside her as the fashionista softly grabbed her shoulder in worry. She could only wear an adjacent expression on her face in return as she watched Dash frown from the center of the field, hands on her knees. 

The Wondercolts had regained some of their momentum back, but Crystal Prep wasn’t backing down. They matched the energy with surgical precision, their captain stone-faced and brutal on defense.

Applejack whistled low. “Whew, this is tighter than a tick on a hound dog.”

Pinkie bounced beside her, waving her kazoo wildly. “I don’t know what that means but it feels right!”

Fluttershy didn’t laugh.

She watched her with the intensity of a prayer. Her eyes tracked every movement, the way Rainbow’s breath fogged in the air, how her fingers twitched before she made a break, how her jaw clenched after each failed goal. She could feel Rainbow’s nerves like they were her own.

By halftime, Crystal Prep was two goals ahead.

“Come on…” Fluttershy whispered, clenching her hands in her lap.

She could see Rainbow out on the field, pacing with her hands on her hips. Fluttershy could practically hear the groan as Canterlot High’s leftback opened her mouth in frustration. For one awful moment, Fluttershy thought she might lose it, throw her head back in frustration or yell at the ground.

But instead, Rainbow straightened. Took a breath. Then another.

And then she turned to her team, clapping her hands and jogging toward them. Her posture changed as she met them all for another huddle.

“I can't understand what she’s saying at all,” Twilight murmured, adjusting her glasses, “but… I’m assuming she’s rallying them.”

Fluttershy nodded slowly, her throat tight. Rainbow was laughing now, beaming at her team, motioning exaggeratedly, throwing her arms around their shoulders. Even the goalkeeper, who’d looked like she might cry moments earlier, was now shaking her head with a reluctant grin. It was like Dash had lit a match in a cold room.

The second half began with fire. The Wondercolts managed to tie the scores back up, but the girls remained silent on the bleachers as they watched the ball soar back and forth along the field.

A Crystal Prep player had stolen it just then, but Dash quickly zoomed past her, kicking it out from under feet. “Rainbow Dash has gotten the ball back! Here she comes through mid-field.”

One assist. Fluttershy could hear Spitfire holler, “I’m open!” Dash kicked the ball towards her.

“Rainbow Dash makes a nice pass to Spitfire.” The team was so close, inching closer and closer to the blue and white goal. The Crystal Prep’s captain was on her left, but Fluttershy grinned as Ruby ran up close to them.

“Big block by Thunderlane! Spitfire moves over wide, gives it back to Rainbow Dash. She’s in the clear!”

The girls all smile up from the bleachers as Dash soars towards the goal. “She’s got it,” Applejack flicks her hand up in the air, as if she knew it all along.

But Fluttershy noticed the purple-haired girl make her way against Dash’s path again. She held a fist up to her mouth in nervousness as she watched her get closer and closer to Rainbow. Then, in a swarm of events, Dash swerved at the girl, kicking the ball up until it reached Spitfire, about ten feet across from her. 

“Rainbow Dash goes up, she passes it to Spitfire!”

A kick.

The net ripples.

“She scores!”

The crowd erupted into cheers. The marching band’s horns swelled, but Pinkie’s kazoo swam right into the girls’ ears.

“YES!” Pinkie screamed, as her friends all winced and covered their ears. As they stood up, Applejack whooped beside her, while Twilight blinked in stunned relief.

“The Wondercolts have won it! And what a loyal play by Rainbow Dash!”

Fluttershy stood along with the girls as the team pumped their firsts in the air, dancing around the field. She couldn’t help it. She stood and watched Rainbow Dash glow under the lights, surrounded by teammates tackling her in joy. She looked over the crowd, and her eyes found Fluttershy’s.

Something in Rainbow’s face shifted. Brightened.

“What an incredible game!”

The girls made their way down the bleachers slowly, dodging various arms and cartons of popcorn being tossed in the air. Fluttershy’s heart was hammering harder than it had the entire game. 

“And a heck of an end to this year's season!

Rarity held Fluttershy’s hand tightly so as to not lose the timid girl down the steps. Once Fluttershy’s foot touched the ground, she met Dash’s eyes again. The athlete didn’t hesitate.

She ran for her. Cleats pounding. Ponytail flying.

And before Fluttershy could say a single word, Rainbow swept her up into the air, spun her around like she weighed nothing at all, laughing into her neck.

Fluttershy clung to her instinctively, breath catching. The sound of the crowd faded. Everything felt like light.

When Rainbow finally set her down, their faces were inches apart. Fluttershy could still feel the dizzy warmth of being held.

She didn’t let go right away. Instead, she just whispered in the taller girl’s ear. “We did it!” still laughing, her voice bright against Fluttershy’s temple. “Holy shit, Shy, we actually—”

“You were amazing.” Fluttershy replied softly. Rainbow leaned back then, staring her in the eyes, sweaty and panting and electric. 

“Fluttershy, I… when… earlier, when-” 

Her voice faltered. The words weren’t forming right. Fluttershy could feel the weight of them trying to surface, like a wave curling just before it crests.

But before Rainbow could finish, a firm hand clapped against her back with a thump that made her stumble forward.

“Good gracious, Rainbow Dash,” Applejack hooted, grinning wide. “They almost had y’all there in the first half. Had me sweatin’ through my hat!”

Rainbow blinked, dazed from the interruption. “Yeah, well,” she muttered, straightening up again, “they didn’t.”

“Only ‘cause you went turbo-mode in the second half,” Pinkie said, bounding in from behind them with streamers tangled in her hair. “Seriously, it was like watching a cartoon character. Or a spaghetti noodle!”

Sunset shook her head, smiling. “It was really impressive, Rainbow. You were locked in.”

“Dazzling,” Rarity added, her voice dramatic as ever. “Though you did muck up your shorts quite a bit.”

Rainbow just chuckled, her eyes flicking back to Fluttershy every few seconds. Like she was still trying to pick up where she’d left off. 

And Fluttershy, even surrounded by the noise and praise, could only look at her.

She felt the warmth of Rainbow’s hand still lingering in hers, even though they weren’t touching anymore.

The others kept chatting, as the team made their way to the circle, glimmering from the victory and texting the address for the after-party. And though the rest of the world was cheering around them, it felt like, for a second, it was just the two of them again. And Fluttershy didn’t want to be anywhere else.

The music pulsed through the walls of Spitfire’s modest house, windows glowing gold against the late night. The girls stood at the edge of the front yard, and as Fluttershy watched the copious amounts of students walk in ahead of them, her heart fluttered against her ribs like it wanted to escape.

She could already hear laughter echoing from inside, players and students spilling out onto the porch and lawn, cheering, dancing, hugging like they’d just won the world championship. 

“C’mon,” Rainbow said softly, nudging Fluttershy’s shoulder with her own, and interlacing their fingers. “I’ll stay by your side the whole time.”

That made Fluttershy feel a little better, managing a small smile, but as they walked in, she found it was even louder inside. Warm bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with sugar, music, and the tang of something vaguely spiked. Fluttershy kept in between her friends, scanning for familiar faces. Besides the rest of Dash’s team, she recognized a few people from various classes, some who would volunteer at the shelter from time to time. Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft ping, with a splash and an eruption of cheers that followed. 

“Ugh, beer pong,” Rarity muttered, adjusting her earrings. “This isn’t college. Yet.”

Sunset chuckled. “Give it thirty minutes. Someone’s bound to bring out the karaoke machine.”

The rest of the house was buzzing, dim lights, too many people pressed into too small a space, and music vibrating through the floors. Fluttershy clutched her bag a little tighter at first, but let herself follow the group deeper in, eventually slipping it off and setting it against the base of a coat rack in the corner of the living room. 

“Hey, number 18!” A guy on the water polo team had walked past, dapping Rainbow up. “Great game today,” he grinned. Rainbow offered her usual smile in return. Fluttershy tried to focus on her, but couldn’t help but get sucked in by the jumbling of people as she followed Dash into the house. 

They reached the makeshift beer pong table at the back of the living room, where a small crowd had gathered. Someone turned up the music just as Spitfire leaned over the table and sunk her second ping pong ball in a row.

A cheer went up.

“Boom!” Spitfire grinned, lifting her hand for a high five.

Rainbow, already smiling, met her palm with a crisp slap.

“Nice shot,” Dash said, a bit too casual.

Spitfire turned to them then, eyes flicking from Rainbow to Fluttershy and back again. “Well, if it isn’t our star striker and her cheerleader.”

Fluttershy tried to keep her expression neutral, but her pulse quickened.

“You two wanna jump in?” Spitfire asked, nodding toward the table. “Could use a challenge.”

Rainbow hesitated and took a breath before shaking her head. “Nah, we’re gonna go hang with our friends.”

Fluttershy blinked. She glanced behind them and realized that low and behold- the others had scattered already. Pinkie dancing near the speakers, Applejack and Rarity nowhere in sight, Twilight and Sunset possibly out in the kitchen. 

Still, Dash didn’t look away. Spitfire raised an eyebrow, then gave a crooked smirk. “Suit yourself.”

There was something about the way she said it, a little teasing, a little dismissive, that made Fluttershy’s chest tighten. Her hand, still loosely looped around Rainbow’s, felt suddenly clammy.

Spitfire tossed another ball, and it rimmed the cup before falling in.

More cheers.

Before Fluttershy could dwell any longer, she felt herself being pulled in another direction again. The electronic music had shifted into a slower pop, more up her alley, but still as loud and hammering in her ears. “It’s pretty loud!” she tried to exclaim. 

“What was that?” Dash asked without looking back. Fluttershy sighed. 

“Never mind!” She ran her teeth along her lower lip as they finally found an ambient hallway, slightly safer from the pounding speakers.

The kitchen it led to was mercifully quieter than the rest of the house, lit with the soft glow of under-cabinet lights and the open fridge. Fluttershy immediately spotted Twilight and Sunset near the counter, each holding mismatched plastic cups, deep in some animated conversation.

Rainbow seemed to relax the moment she saw them.

“Finally,” she muttered, steering Fluttershy gently toward them. Her arm slipped around Fluttershy’s shoulders in a way that felt natural, and she leaned into it instinctively, caught off guard by how easy it felt. For a moment, her earlier nerves softened, smoothed by the buzz of laughter, the weight of Rainbow’s touch anchoring her in place.

“There you are,” Sunset said, giving them both a grin. “I was wondering if you two got swept into Pinkie’s dance vortex.”

Twilight adjusted her glasses. “It’s a surprisingly dangerous gravitational pull.”

“Nah,” Rainbow said, laughing. “We stopped by the pong table.”

Fluttershy didn’t comment. She just smiled, easily letting the conversation pass over her. Rainbow’s arm was still draped casually around her, and for once, she didn’t feel the urge to move away.

Twilight gestured toward the Bluetooth speaker tucked into the corner of the counter. “Anyway, I’m just saying that statistically, remixes are 60% more likely to ruin the original song’s emotional impact.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow over her cup. “Statistically, huh? Where exactly did you pull that number from?”

Twilight blinked. “A very well-curated forum.”

“So… Reddit.”

Twilight flushed. “It was a niche musicology subreddit, actually,” she took a sip from her cup. Fluttershy suddenly eyed the drinks in their hands, and Rainbow knowingly followed her gaze.

“You want anything?” Rainbow asked after a beat, nodding towards Twilight and Sunset. “I know where she keeps the club soda,” she added, a little quieter.

Fluttershy looked down at her and smiled, nodding softly. “Yes, please.”

“Got it.” Rainbow dropped her arm and leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “I’ll put it in one of the red cups too.”

Fluttershy smiled at that, a small flicker of gratitude flashing in her chest. “Thanks.”

“Be right back,” Dash said, winking before turning and slipping out of the kitchen.

Fluttershy’s gaze lingered on the hallway Rainbow had just left through, already missing the security of having her close. But the tall girl suddenly heard her name, whipping her head back to Sunset.

“Sorry, what?”

Twilight smiled politely. “I said, back me up here. Name one remix of a song that didn’t absolutely butcher the original sound.”

Fluttershy tilted her head in thought then, trying to find a genuine answer. “Oh. I guess I can’t?” She offered Sunset an apologetic grin. Twilight clapped her hands in victory.

“See?”

Sunset groaned and face palmed, setting her drink down, which drew out a few laughs from Fluttershy and Twilight, who leaned back against the counter, still grinning. Sunset mumbled something about re-evaluating her taste in friends, and Fluttershy finally found herself relaxing in the company.

She shifted slightly, letting the brief warmth settle in her chest. It was actually nice, being here, included, a part of the rhythm instead of pressed into the corners of it. She let herself chime into the conversation a few times, the whole night giving her the strength to speak more than usual. For a second, she forgot the strange, aching weight that had followed her all night, until she glanced at the doorway.

Her smile dimmed just a touch. She glanced around the kitchen, still just the three of them. She looked down at her hands, clasped in front of her.

“How long has it been?” she asked suddenly.

Twilight looked over. “Since what?”

“Um. Since Rainbow went to get drinks.”

Sunset’s smile faded a little too. “A while, I guess.”

Fluttershy’s gaze flicked toward the party beyond the kitchen again, her stomach tensing in a way that hadn’t been there moments before. That warmth ebbed out slowly, replaced with the first ripples of unease.

Twilight noticed her expression shift. “She’s probably just talking to someone on the way back.”

“Uh, yeah…” Fluttershy straightened, glancing around. “I think I’m gonna go check on her. Make sure she's... alright.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “You want one of us to come with?”

“No, that’s okay,” Fluttershy said quickly, already stepping back with a polite shake of her head. “I’ll be right back.”

She slipped out of the kitchen, the noise of the party swelling around her like a wave she hadn’t realized she was treading. Laughter and the thump of bass echoed off the walls, voices rising and overlapping like currents pulling in opposite directions.

Fluttershy kept her head low as she weaved through the crowd gathered near the stairs, gently excusing herself when shoulders bumped or arms flailed too close. The lights overhead were too bright in places, too dim in others, casting shadows that made it hard to focus.

Her eyes scanned the room, groups huddled near the hallway, someone dancing on a couch, a half-toppled tower of cups at the end of the hall. But no Rainbow. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t spot her electric hair in a sea of silhouettes.

Fluttershy swallowed and kept walking.

She paused by the hallway wall, spotting two guys she vaguely recognized from her French class. “Um, excuse me,” she said gently, barely heard over the music. “Have either of you seen Rainbow Dash?”

They looked up from their phones, exchanged a glance, then shrugged. “Nah,” one of them said. “Not lately.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice small. “Thank you anyway.”

Farther down, a couple near the foot of the stairs were tangled in a conversation about which room had the aux cord. Fluttershy waited for a break in their chatter. “Sorry. Have you seen Dash?”

“Rainbow Dash?” the girl asked, blinking. “Nope. Thought she was with you.”

Fluttershy forced a smile. “No, she is, I just- never mind.” She turned on her heel, finding another hallway she slowly shuffled down. 

She could feel her palms dampen. She curled them into loose fists at her sides as she stepped, slightly overwhelmed by the crowds, the music, the party of it all.

Maybe she just got caught up in a conversation. Maybe she’s looking for me, too.

One door led to a cramped storage room cluttered with plastic folding chairs and long-forgotten decorations. Another was dark, hollow, and empty, save for the shape of a mop bucket leaning against the wall. Fluttershy’s fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over the next doorknob, twisting it.

The door creaked open, then stopped short as she froze in the threshold.

“Oh—!”

The sound slipped out before she could stop it. Her hand flew to her mouth.

Inside, bathed in the soft yellow light of a small table lamp, stood Applejack and Rarity. Locked in a kiss. Or at least, they had been. Rarity’s arms jolted away from Applejack’s neck the second the door opened. Applejack fumbled forward a bit, arms still in the position of holding Rarity’s waist. She dropped them, clearing her throat and adjusting her hat. Both of them looked breathless, cheeks flaming with color.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity gasped, voice jumping an octave as she staggered back a step, one hand frantically patting down her hair, the other clutching the collar of her dress. “We were just—this isn’t—oh, heavens.”

Applejack stood rigid, blinking, her hat knocked askew and her hand rubbing the back of her neck like she was trying to hide in her own shadow. “Uh. Yeah! Well. This ain’t what it looks like! Or—okay, it kinda is.”

Fluttershy blinked fast. Her mouth opened, then closed. Her fingers curled tight around the hem of her dress like it was the only solid thing in the world.

“I… it’s okay,” she said quietly, taking a step back into the hall. “I didn’t mean to walk in on—I’m sorry.”

“No, no, sugarcube,” Applejack said quickly, stepping forward and gently ushering her away from the door with a warm hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing all the way over here, anyways?”

“I was looking for Rainbow,” she said, voice smaller now.

Applejack’s brows drew together. “She ain’t with you?”

Fluttershy pursed her lips and shook her head. “No… I don’t know where she went.”

Rarity had mostly composed herself by now, though a flush still painted her cheeks. She stepped beside Applejack, concern knitting between her brows. “Do you want us to help you look for her?”

Fluttershy hesitated. Her eyes flicked between them, and she took one final step back before sighing.

“No. It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll try outside.”

She turned before they could stop her, her boots making no sound on the hallway rug. She didn’t want them to see her face, not the confusion, or the dread curling like smoke through her ribs. She didn’t want to cry, not yet.

The hum of the party faded behind her as Fluttershy slipped out the back door and into the cool night air. The shift in atmosphere hit her like a wave. Music still pulsed faintly from inside, but out here, everything felt dimmer. She inhaled deeply, trying to steady the panic clawing at her ribs.

The backyard was strung with patio lights, casting warm halos over a handful of students milling around. Near the far fence, she spotted a few familiar faces, one of them gesturing wildly with a solo cup in hand. 

The soccer team.

Fluttershy approached cautiously, her boots crunching lightly over the grass. Ruby was the first to spot her, grinning brightly.

“Hey! Look who it is!” she called, elbowing the defender to her side. “Thought you may have ditched us.”

Fluttershy blinked. “Oh, um. No, I just… I was inside.”

The group shifted to make room for her, most of them already buzzed from the game’s adrenaline and the post-match drinks. Thunderlane offered her a chip from a greasy paper plate. She shook her head, heart still pounding.

She cleared her throat gently. “Um, sorry to interrupt, but… have any of you seen Rainbow Dash?” Fluttershy hesitated. “She went to get me a drink, but… it’s been a while.”

Ruby’s grin faltered slightly. She glanced toward the house, then back at Fluttershy. “Oh. Uh… yeah. I think I saw her go upstairs earlier. With Spitfire.”

Everything stopped. That whirring in Fluttershy’s stomach dropped, her sweat suddenly feeling cold. Her throat closed up, the night air suddenly felt razor-thin. Fluttershy’s fingers dug into her thighs, shoulders stiffening like she could physically brace herself against the words.

“With… Spitfire?”

Ruby gave a one-shouldered shrug, the kind you give when something's obvious. “Yeah. Like, maybe twenty minutes ago? She said she needed to talk to her about something. You know how they get.”

Fluttershy didn’t answer.

How they get?

The laughter around her resumed, but it sounded far away, like someone had pressed her ears underwater. She nodded absently, murmured something that might have been “thanks,” and turned and walked toward the side gate, her hand hovering on the latch.

She touched the lock, fingers brushing delicately on the cool metal. 

Then, slowly, she let her hand fall.

A burst of laughter from the backyard reminded her she could still turn away. But something rooted her in place, something heavy and aching. Against every instinct screaming at her to run, to just leave, she pivoted back toward the house.

Inside, the music pulsed louder. The lights seemed too bright now, the air thick with body heat and cheap cider. Fluttershy made her way through the crowded living room, barely breathing as she turned the hallway, one hand grazing the railing of the staircase.

Above her, she heard them. Two voices.

And then, they appeared.

Rainbow Dash came down the steps first, shoulders shaking with a chuckle, her hair tousled, cheeks flushed with heat, or maybe just the party. Spitfire was right behind her, close, with one casual arm draped across Rainbow’s back like it belonged there.

Fluttershy froze on the stairwell landing, breath caught like a thorn in her throat.

Rainbow looked up, and saw her.

Time stopped. Her laughter died mid-breath, face faltering as she met Fluttershy’s eyes. Her mouth opened, a flicker of something panicked flicking across her expression.

Fluttershy didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.

“Fluttershy! I-”

But Fluttershy was already moving, already turning, her steps faster than before.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Rainbow called, catching up as Fluttershy reached the front door. Behind her, she heard shuffling movement. Then Rainbow’s voice again, hurried and firm: “Let go of me, Spitfire.”

Fluttershy paused just long enough to pull it open, letting the cool night air rush in. She glanced over her shoulder with a tight, practiced smile.

“Oh,” she said, voice just a little too light. “I’m heading home.”

Rainbow blinked, stepping forward. “Wait—what? But we just got here. Let me drive you.”

She shook her head, still not looking at her. “No need. Really. You’ve done enough.”

Rainbow frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fluttershy let out a soft laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just that we don’t have to keep doing this. The fake thing. There’s no need to follow the contract anymore. We got what we wanted, right?”

Rainbow blinked, stunned. “Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like we’re strangers.”

Fluttershy turned then, slowly. Her expression was polite, measured, in her last desperate attempt to hide what she was feeling. “We had a deal, didn’t we? And it worked.”

Rainbow’s brow furrowed, stepping forward. “Okay, hold on—did I miss something?”

Fluttershy’s smile wavered, and she turned back to the sidewalk to continue walking before Rainbow could see. “No. Just leave me alone, Dash.”

Rainbow swiftly followed her, grabbing her shoulder gently and turning her around. She was still wearing her jersey, hair slightly damp with sweat from the crowd, and her eyes—Fluttershy couldn’t even look at her eyes.

“What happened?” Rainbow asked quietly, squeezing Fluttershy’s shoulders in a way that made her throat feel tight. “Did someone—did someone say something to you?”

“Nobody had to.” Fluttershy said, and this time it came out sharper than she intended. She shook herself away from Rainbow’s hold, hands trembling. She clasped them together to hide it.

“Then tell me what this is about,” Rainbow said. “Please.”

Fluttershy looked at her, really looked, and it almost broke her.

“It’s about knowing when to stop,” she whispered. Fluttershy swallowed a sob down and straightened her shoulders. “I mean, wasn’t this the whole point?”

Rainbow stared at her, speechless.

Fluttershy nodded once, as if that settled it. “Spitfire clearly wants you. Treehugger and I are good, I…,” a shaky breath. “I think it’s time to call it.”

“You and I both know that’s not what this was,” Rainbow said, quiet but firm.

Fluttershy gave another one of those little laughs. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it.”

“I know,” she said quickly, “and I appreciate it. You were great, really. Very convincing.”

Rainbow threw her hands up in the air out of frustration before stepping closer. “Fluttershy, this isn’t—God, don’t shut down just because you’re scared!”

Fluttershy shook her head, stepping backward onto the sidewalk. “What do I have to be scared of?”

Rainbow’s jaw clenched, her fists tightening. “You tell me, Shy.”

Fluttershy turned.

“I’ll walk,” she said over her shoulder. “Please don’t follow me.”

This is what it was always for, she thought bitterly as her boots stepped down the pavement, each word landing like a weight in her chest. It was for her, not for you.

She hugged her arms around herself as the party faded behind her, the muffled bassline still pounding through the walls like a cruel reminder. Fluttershy had to stop herself from turning back, mustering up the courage to keep walking. She knew Rainbow wouldn’t chase after her. 

Don’t look back.
Don’t hope.

But she already had, and she already did.

You’re so stupid, her thoughts hissed. So unbelievably, painfully stupid.

She could see it now, how clearly it had always been heading toward this. Rainbow had been kind, maybe even tender, but it didn’t mean what Fluttershy had wanted, what she thought it meant. What she’d dared to let herself believe it could.

All the looks. The hand-holding. The spinning hug after the game. None of it was real.

She clutched herself harder, the thoughts pressing around in her mind like a bruise. 

I can’t believe I actually thought tonight I’d…..

As she paced away from the house, it felt like the winds against her were brushing everything from the past two weeks away. The secrets she told Dash, the way she came out of her shell. And now all she felt was small. Like a shadow of the girl who’d dared to imagine someone like her could ever return her feelings. She swallowed hard, blinking fast against the tears threatening to rise. Her throat burned.

It’s not real, the mantra rang in her head, once again. 

Chapter Text

The front door clicked shut behind her with a hollow sound.

Fluttershy stood there for a moment, her hand still on the knob, the quiet of her house pressing in around her like a wave. Gone was the faint buzzing of loud music, bright lights, and shouts of the party, and Fluttershy felt cold under the simple, distant whirring of the dishwasher and the faint sound of the TV from the living room.

She turned, ready to slip upstairs unnoticed, but a familiar voice derailed the plan entirely.

“There she is!” Zephyr Breeze sing-songed, reclining on the couch lazily. “Now, Shy-Shy, I can’t believe I’m the last person in Canterlot to find out you and Rainbow Dash are actually a thing.” He grinned, remote in one hand and a half-empty bag of popcorn in the other. “Took me forever to believe it, but hey, good for y—”

Fluttershy slid down the door before he could finish. Just crumpled.

Her legs folded, like a marionette had just cut her strings, and she sank with her back to the wood. The weight of the night collapsed her inwards like paper. Her breath hitched once, twice, and then broke into a sob that she couldn’t stop.

The remote clattered to the coffee table. Zephyr shot upright, blinking in disbelief. “Whoa, wait—Fluttershy?” He scrambled off the couch. “What’s—? What happened? Did someone—did she—?”

He knelt awkwardly beside her, hovering between panic and incompetence. “Is this about Rainbow? Because I swear, I will murder her. Or at least, like, temporarily disable her social life. Do you want me to text something to the art club? I could ruin her in, like, five minutes.”

Fluttershy shook her head, hiding her face in her hands, but the tears kept coming. Her chest hurt. Her throat burned. All the hope she’d built for the last couple days had shattered.

Zephyr put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Flutters… talk to me. Please.”

She tried to breathe, but it tumbled in her chest again. The words spilled out between sobs, broken and raw.

“She doesn’t like me,” she choked, her voice so small it barely made it out. “It was all fake. This whole time, it was fake.”

Zephyr blinked, clearly not following. “Wait—what was fake?”

“Us,” she rasped. “Me and her.”

She looked up at him finally, face blotchy and wet, mascara smudged under her eyes. “It was just for Spitfire. To make her jealous. That’s all it ever was.”

Zephyr’s expression fell flat, the shock landing like a rock. “You’re kidding. Rainbow Dash—that Rainbow Dash—and you? Fake dating? God, Fluttershy, what does that even mean?”

Fluttershy flinched, as if hearing it out loud made it worse. “It was her idea. I agreed to it. Because—because I thought…” Her voice cracked. “I thought maybe I could get over…” She paused to think, before the truth came out, “I thought that if I stayed close to her long enough, she’d really…,” She laughed, bitter and breathless. “But she never did. She liked her the whole time. I was just—just the thing she used to get her.”

Zephyr looked stunned, his anger folding into something much quieter.

“You’re not… a thing,” he said, a rare softness in his voice. “You’re my sister. And Rainbow Dash is an idiot.”

Fluttershy pulled her knees closer to her chest, curling in on herself. “I’m so stupid. I thought —I really thought….”

Zephyr didn’t say anything right away. He looked at her for a long moment. Then, carefully, like he was afraid she might shatter completely, he sat down beside her on the floor and wrapped his arms around her.

It was clumsy, a little too tight and awkward at first. But when she didn’t pull away, he just held on tighter, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

Fluttershy shook her head wordlessly against his chest, trying to swallow down another sob, but it caught anyway, and she gripped the front of his sweatshirt like it was the only thing holding her together.

For once, Zephyr didn’t tease. He didn’t make a joke or say something selfish. He just stayed quiet, holding her as she cried into the night.

It was the pinging that woke her.

Fluttershy stirred with a soft, hoarse groan, her body aching from the past night. Her head throbbed dully, her nose was stuffy, and her throat burned from crying. She barely opened her eyes at first—didn’t want to. The light of the room felt too sharp, like everything in it was trying to remind her she still existed.

She was still in her dress from the night before, now wrinkled and twisted, the zipper digging into her ribs. One boot was half-kicked off and dangling from her foot; the other was nowhere to be found. Her legs were tangled in the comforter, face was stiff with dried tears, mascara smeared in watery trails across her cheeks. Her entire body felt heavy, as if the heartbreak had crawled in during the night and taken up residence in her bones.

The pinging continued, sharp and insistent.

Groggily, she rolled over and fumbled across the nightstand until her fingers landed on her phone. She blinked at the screen, vision blurry and raw.

Group Chat – [Pinkie stop changing the name!]

26 missed messages.

[Pinkie Pie]: where are you Fluttershy??
[Applejack]: we’re literally going on in 30 min
[Sunset]: Fluttershy, please tell us you’re okay
[Rarity]: darling if you don’t get here in time i swear on my new sam edelmans
[Twilight]: I’m calling her again

She gasped when her eyes darted to the time:
5:07 PM

The gig. The Canterlot Green Room. Sound check had been at four.

“Oh no. No, no, no—”

She scrambled off the bed in a panic, wobbling on legs that didn’t want to hold her. Her dress caught on the corner of the nightstand as she tore it off, yanking it over her head and flinging it to the floor. Her hair was a tangled mess. Her eyes were red-rimmed and hollow, the skin beneath them a blotchy shadow of smudged makeup. She looked like she’d lived three lifetimes in one night.

But what made her stomach twist the most wasn't the flood of messages and missed calls from the others. It was the fact that there wasn’t a single notification from Rainbow Dash.

Fluttershy stared at the screen again, heart hammering. The silence was louder than anything else. It felt deliberate, cruel even, scaring her into pausing her flurry of movements for a few seconds.

But somehow, she still had to go on stage.

She grabbed a wrinkled tee from the floor, pulled on a pair of pants, and stumbled toward the mirror to splash water on her face. Pawing her fingers through her hair, Fluttershy put on some chapstick, and tried to steady her breathing.

“You can do this,” she whispered to herself. “Just get there.”

She snagged her phone again and quickly ordered a ride. It would be there in six minutes.

Fluttershy rushed to the door, heart hammering, already rehearsing apologies in her head. But as she reached for her bag, the tote she always kept on the hook near the dresser, her hand met nothing but empty space.

Her blood ran cold.

She spun toward the closet, toward the bed, her desk, the corner of the room. Maybe she’d dropped it?

Her breath caught in her throat. She dove toward the dresser and yanked open the top drawer, the closet door, beneath the bed.

Still nothing.

“No. No—no, no, no—”

The panic bloomed so fast, it made her knees weak.

The letters.

Her phone vibrated again. The car was three minutes away, but she didn’t move.

Fluttershy’s mind clawed backward, grasping for answers. The porch. The yelling. The sidewalk. She’d walked home. 

Her lips parted in a soundless gasp, eyes wide and stinging again. She gripped the edge of the dresser to steady herself.

Every letter. Every page she’d ever written for her. Tucked into the floral pouch in the side pocket. Three years’ worth of feelings, all of it at Spitfire’s.

“Oh no, no, no, no—” she whispered, tears burning behind her tired eyes as her hands trembled. “Shit.”

Fluttershy shoved open the side entrance to the Canterlot Green Room, the door groaning as it slammed shut behind her. Her boots echoed against the concrete as she bolted down the hallway, the thrum of a band playing from the stage vibrating through the walls. Music pulsed under her feet, accompanied by muffled cheers from the crowd. She was late. She was so late.

Her throat felt raw, her stomach an open pit.

She rounded a corner and nearly collided with a rolling amp case. “Sorry—!” she blurted to the passing stagehand before ducking down the next hallway. Her hands were shaking. Her bag was still missing. Her heart was still broken.

When she finally reached the dressing room door, she hesitated—just a second—before pushing it open.

Inside, there was only Rarity, who was adjusting something on a costume hanger, her head snapping toward the door the moment it opened. “Oh thank goodness.” She froze mid-step. “Darling, you look—” She caught herself too late.

Fluttershy’s face flushed.

Rarity’s hand flew to her mouth. “I mean—what I meant to say was…” Her eyes softened, voice dropping. “You’ve had… a day, haven’t you?”

Fluttershy opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught, thick and useless in her throat.

“Nope,” Rarity said firmly, already marching over. “Sit. Chair. Now.”

Fluttershy obeyed with barely a nod, sinking into the tall makeup chair in front of the glowing vanity mirror. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at her reflection. She knew what she looked like: her eyes puffy, her hair a tangle of stringy pink strands, and her lips felt cracked from crying.

“I can fix this,” Rarity muttered with sharp determination, pulling a curling wand from her kit like a sword. “Five minutes. Give me five minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy whispered.

Rarity’s fingers paused in her hair, gentler now. “Darling, don’t worry about it.”

“I—I missed soundcheck. I didn’t answer anyone—”

“Fluttershy,” Rarity said, softly but firmly, “please. Not now.”

She began brushing out the tangles with delicate precision, keeping her touch light as she started to apply a primer to Fluttershy’s cheeks. “We can talk about whatever happened later. But right now, all I want you to do is sit here, breathe, and let me take care of you.”

Fluttershy swallowed and nodded. She bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

In the next room, she could hear Applejack and Twilight tuning instruments. Someone hit a few loud snare cracks—Pinkie, no doubt. Her voice chirped something unintelligible, followed by a chorus of laughter.

It all felt far away. Too far. Somewhere behind her exhaustion, behind the dull ache of her legs and the silent panic still clinging to her ribs, a thought began to echo.

The letters.

Rarity’s touch was soft, careful, and yet Fluttershy barely felt it. Her breath caught, shallow and panicked. 

Spitfire must have found them.

Maybe that was why Rainbow didn’t send her anything, didn’t call her once. Because Spitfire had seen them, and they figured it all out. Because now, Dash knew everything. And she didn’t say anything.

“Rarity?” Fluttershy tried again, her voice papery thin.

Rarity met her eyes in the mirror and squeezed her shoulder gently. “Later,” she said. “I promise. We’ll talk. Let’s just get through tonight first.”

Five minutes later, somehow, Fluttershy was miraculously ready. She changed into her stage outfit, a mild version of their group aesthetic, soft in color but bold in shape. Her hair had been tamed into loose waves, and her makeup gave her a glow that hid most of the damage. She still felt like a cracked mirror, but at least the pieces were held in place.

She turned toward the door, and standing at the front of the room were Rainbow, Twilight, and Pinkie. All three paused when they saw her, Twilight’s hands still holding sheet music.

And it was Dash who stared the longest. Her mouth parted, just slightly, eyes roaming over her and her costume like they didn’t know where to land. She looked breathless, stunned, which made Fluttershy’s knees nearly buckle.

She cleared her throat quickly, ducking her gaze. “I—I’m so sorry,” she said, trying to make her voice sound more stable than it was. “I didn’t mean to miss everything. I should’ve told someone—I lost track of time—”

“It’s okay,” Twilight said immediately, stepping forward with relief. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

Pinkie nodded fervently beside her. “We were this close to turning the whole concert into a search party.”

Fluttershy smiled weakly.

Rainbow still hadn’t said anything.

Fluttershy forced herself to meet her eyes, and even though her heart was cracking all over again, even though she was sure Rainbow could see it written all over her face, she held the look.

Just for a second.

And then looked away.

The sound of the crowd was already swelling behind the stage curtain when the girls began to filter out of the dressing room, instruments in hand. Fluttershy stayed behind just a moment longer, kneeling to double-knot her laces. She grabbed her tambourine from the bench, fingers tightening briefly around its frame.

When she stood, Rainbow Dash was still in the doorway.

Fluttershy’s breath hitched. She swallowed it down and brushed past her.

“Hey,” Rainbow said quickly, turning to follow. “So, we’re just gonna pretend everything’s fine?”

“I’m not pretending anything,” Fluttershy muttered, not slowing her pace.

“You were late. Really late. We didn’t know if something happened, if you were okay…”

Fluttershy’s steps didn’t falter, but her grip on the tambourine grew tighter. “Well, I’m here now.”

Rainbow was naturally faster than the girl, despite their difference in height, and caught up next to her easily. “What- what happened last night? You scared the shit out of-”

Fluttershy shook her head in disbelief. “I’m fine. Don’t act so worried now. It’s clear you have nothing to say to me,” her voice cracked as she trailed off into a whisper.

Rainbow exhaled sharply and moved to walk beside her. “Oh, so I’m just supposed to reach out after you ask me-no, tell me to leave you alone? I thought you wanted space.”

Fluttershy turned away then, whirling around the corner towards the back of the stage instead of responding.

“So, that’s it? You’re just gonna shut me out again? After everything?” Rainbow demanded.

Fluttershy stopped. Her eyes were flint when they met Rainbow’s.

“We do need to talk,” Rainbow said, quieter now. “Shy, I’m serious.”

Fluttershy looked at her for a long, painful second. Then turned and started walking again.

“Not here.”

Rainbow’s brow furrowed, then she cursed under her breath and chased after her. Their footsteps echoed down the backstage corridor, past the catering table, past the posters from old shows, past a few other musicians tuning instruments in the wings.

Rarity glanced up as they passed, raising an eyebrow. Sunset tilted her head in concern. Neither said anything.

“Nothing happened,” Rainbow said finally, catching up to her again. “Between me and Spitfire. Last night, if that’s what you think.”

Fluttershy halted in her tracks, her back to her.

Rainbow took a step closer, voice gentler now. “I swear. We talked. That’s it. I didn’t even realize how long I was gone. You… you left before I could explain.”

“What happened,” Fluttershy said, quietly, “is that you went up there with her in the first place.”

Rainbow’s face fell. “Shy—”

“You lied to me.”

There was a beat of heavy silence between them, thick with what couldn’t be unsaid.

“I didn’t mean to,” Rainbow said. “I was going to come right back, I swear—”

“But you didn’t,” Fluttershy snapped, her voice brittle and sharp. “You left me...”

Rainbow’s jaw tensed, frustration flashing behind her eyes. “Look, Spitfire and I have spent a lot of time together over the years—”

“Dash,” Fluttershy cut in, almost desperate now. “I don’t know why you’re trying to justify this to me. You don’t owe me anything, remember?”

Rainbow’s eyes darkened. “God! For someone so quiet, you never let me talk!” The words came out sharper than she meant them to. Fluttershy visibly flinched, her shoulders drawing up like a shield. Rainbow’s anger dissolved in an instant, catching the taller girl’s wrist, just enough to make her stop again. “Shy,” her voice was gentler now, “don’t do that.”

Fluttershy didn’t turn around.

“Don’t do what?” she asked, her voice thin and tired.

“That thing where you act like none of this matters. I’m standing right here. Just… talk to me.”

Fluttershy turned slowly, the hallway light catching the smear of mascara under her eyes. “What do you want me to say, Rainbow? That I was stupid? That I really thought—” She swallowed, shook her head, looking away. “You don’t owe me anything,” she echoed, “You never did.”

“Shy…”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it. You liked her. That’s all this was for, right?” She let out a shaky laugh, bitter and breathless. “I mean, I’m sure you both found the letters. I don’t even know why I thought-”

“What?” Rainbow cut her off, sharply, blinking with panicked confusion.

Fluttershy froze.

Oh no.

“The letters?” she said weakly, barely above a whisper. “The—never mind.”

Rainbow stepped closer. “Fluttershy, what?”

Fluttershy’s eyes dropped to the floor. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Shy, what letters?” Rainbow’s voice was more urgent now, almost desperate.

Before Fluttershy could answer, or lie, Applejack’s head popped through the backstage curtain. "There y’are! C’mon, y’all, we’re up! Let’s move!"

Sunset waved from behind her. “You good?”

Rainbow and Fluttershy both nodded, clearly not, as they were ushered toward the stage, Pinkie settled at her kit. Rarity adjusted her mic stand with one concerned glance at Fluttershy, who felt like her heartbeat was trying to escape her chest.

As Fluttershy stepped into place and reached for her tambourine, she felt Rainbow step beside her again. The world narrowed.

Just before the lights came up, Rainbow leaned in, her voice low and careful. “Shy… what letters?”

Fluttershy didn’t answer.

She couldn’t.

The emcee’s voice boomed overhead, “Put your hands together for The Rainbooms!”

The crowd erupted.

From the first downbeat to the final crashing chord, everything had been electric. Sunset and Rainbow’s vocals wove together smoothly, their harmonies hitting sharp and clean. Applejack’s bass held steady beneath them, grounding the tempo with quiet strength, while Pinkie’s energy on the drums was kinetic, evened out by the soft tunes of Rarity’s keytar.

The crowd loved them. Cheers rang like thunder after every number, and when they would repeat a chorus for the second time, the front row would sing along.

One of the stage managers had caught Rainbow Dash on the way out, leaning in close to murmur, “I’ll be in touch. Let’s talk about next month.”

That was all it took. They were flying.

“We killed it!” Pinkie half-yelled as they exited to the wings, her arms thrown around Twilight and Applejack’s shoulders. “That was the most people we’ve ever played for! Did you see the lights?”

“I’m tellin’ y’all, Lightning Back hit hard,” Applejack said with a grin. “Felt like the whole fucking floor jumped.”

“Language, darling,” Rarity murmured, dabbing her forehead delicately with a silk handkerchief. Still, she was beaming.

“We have to celebrate,” Sunset said, holding up her water bottle in a toast. “I’m talking milkshakes. Pinkie, pick a place.”

Fluttershy trailed just behind the group, her tambourine still in one hand, her eyes on the floor. She was relieved the band had done well, despite her absence earlier that afternoon, but still widely aware of the thick tension in the air.

Then Rainbow, still near the door, cleared her throat. “I think I’m just gonna head out.”

The room stilled.

Twilight looked up. “You’re not coming for milkshakes?”

Rainbow shrugged, one hand rubbing the back of her neck. She wouldn’t look at anyone. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

No one said anything, not even Fluttershy. Especially not Fluttershy. She just kept her eyes on her fingers, hands slow and shaking slightly.

Rainbow hesitated for a second longer, waiting, maybe, and when nothing came, she turned and walked out back the door, which quietly clicked shut behind her.

A long silence followed. Pinkie opened her mouth, then closed it again, uncharacteristically uncertain. Applejack then glanced between Fluttershy and the door, then stepped closer and laid a warm, solid hand on Fluttershy’s shoulder.

“Oh, let her go,” she said gently. “You’ve both punished yourselves enough.”

Fluttershy’s head bowed slightly. Her hands froze.

Rarity crossed the room next, folding her arms but softening her voice. “Come get milkshakes with us, darling. You need something sweet. And cold.”

“I don’t—” Fluttershy started, but the protest didn’t have any strength.

“You don’t have to talk,” Sunset added. “You don’t even have to smile. Just… let us be with you, alright?”

Fluttershy blinked rapidly, then finally gave the faintest nod.

Twilight looked over from the mirror. “We’ll save you a seat by the window if we get there first.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie chimed in. “And if it helps, I’m emotionally and financially prepared to order three milkshakes! Just for you!”

Fluttershy’s lips tugged in the smallest curve of a smile.

Rarity squeezed her hand. “Atta girl. Let’s go.”

The old diner was mostly empty by the time they arrived, with just a few late-night college kids and a bored teenager behind the counter. They took over a booth near the window, their instruments and bags piled nearby like they had nowhere else to be.

Pinkie ordered one of everything and Twilight split fries with Sunset. Applejack swiped whipped cream off the top of Rarity’s shake when she thought she wasn’t looking, which earned her a handful of repeated “tsk-tsks”.

Fluttershy didn’t say much, but no one pressured her to. The comfort was in the noise, the atmosphere created by clinking of glasses and sugar. Every now and then, she smiled at something Pinkie said. That was enough.

Eventually, the night wore on. Twilight yawned and stretched, saying she had early lab hours. Sunset offered to drive her and Pinkie home. The goodbye hugs were warm and long, but Fluttershy stayed tucked in the booth, hands around her mostly-melted strawberry shake.

One by one, the group dwindled. Leaving just the three of them: Rarity, Applejack, and Fluttershy. For a few minutes, they sat in a comfortable silence, the hum of the diner soft around them. Then Rarity gave a pointed look to Applejack from above her straw. Applejack sighed, catching the hint loud and clear. “Well,” she said, patting her thigh and standing. “Reckon I need to, uh… go wash up or somethin’.”

She gave Fluttershy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze on her way past, and she heard the bathroom door shut down the hall behind her.

Rarity turned slightly in the booth, folding her hands in her lap. “Alright,” she said softly. “Tell me everything.”

Fluttershy stared down at her milkshake for a long moment before speaking.

“Rarity,” she said, softly. “I… please don’t tell the others.”

Rarity set her milkshake down, instantly attentive. “Of course, darling.”

Fluttershy took a breath. Then another.

“The thing about Rainbow and I’s… relationship…” Her fingers twisted the paper tighter. “It was…”

She swallowed hard.

“It was fake. It was all fake.”

She braced herself, breath held, ready for surprise or confusion or disappointment.

Rarity merely tilted her head, brow raised. “Oh, darling. That’s what I figured from the beginning.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “You knew?”

“You’re not subtle,” Rarity said gently. “You may be quiet enough for the others to not notice, but I know you. And I could tell something was off. For what it’s worth…” She smiled a little. “You two aren’t great liars.”

Fluttershy blinked. For a second, all she could do was sit there, stunned. Then she laughed, a little breathless sound of disbelief. “You’re really scary sometimes.”

Rarity beamed, taking it as a compliment. There was a moment of silence, and then her tone softened. “But I do know that your feelings… they weren’t pretend. Were they?”

Fluttershy looked down. Her voice was barely audible. “I’ve been writing her love letters. Five. Since freshman year.”

Rarity's breath caught, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I never meant for her to see any of them,” Fluttershy continued. “But… she ended up reading one. And I panicked. And lied. And somehow, that lie turned into the fake dating thing. Rainbow really wanted to do it. And I— I couldn’t say no.” She laughed again, but this one was hollow. “And, well, I guess you know the rest.”

Rarity reached across the table, fingers brushing Fluttershy’s hand. “Darling, you wrote your feelings out on paper? Can you look at me and truly say there was no part of you that wanted her to read them?”

Fluttershy swallowed hard. “I kept telling myself it was fake…that I would get over her, but I think, deep down inside, it was real. Maybe… maybe a little part of me wanted her to know. Just… in a different way.” She blinked fast. “She means everything to me.”

Rarity nodded, her eyes gentle. “I see it—the way you open up because of her. No one else has ever been able to do that.”

Fluttershy looked up, her voice quiet. “Rarity… can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How did you know… what to do with Applejack? I mean, how did you guys get together?” Her tone was fragile. “You two make it look so easy.”

Rarity smiled, a little wistfully. “It wasn’t some big, dramatic moment. It was just… I realized I was more comfortable around her than anyone else. I laughed more. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else, or dim myself at all. She makes me feel safe.” She squeezed Fluttershy’s hand. “Love is easy. It’s the fear of losing someone that makes it hard. Right? That’s the scary part.”

Fluttershy exhaled sharply. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Rarity didn’t push. “I understand. But I saw you last night. At the party, and before we went onstage. You keep pushing her away.”

Fluttershy’s face crumpled. “I left the other letters at Spitfire’s house. I was ready, Rarity. I really was. And then it all blew up in my face. When Rainbow didn’t reach out… I thought she saw them. That she read all of them and didn’t have anything to say.”

“Do you think that’s true?”

Fluttershy hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Rarity tilted her head. “Well, you didn’t let her explain.”

Fluttershy’s jaw clenched. She hated how right that was.

“I know you were hurt,” Rarity said, “but you deserve to know the whole story before you tear your heart in half.”

Fluttershy didn’t respond right away. Her thumb rubbed at the hem of her sleeve. Her heart thudded slowly. “I can’t talk to her.”

“Why not?”

Fluttershy’s voice was barely a whisper. “Because if it wasn’t real, then I won’t lose her. It won’t hurt as much. But if I admit that it was real, and she doesn’t feel the same…”

Rarity’s hand tightened gently around hers. “Then at least you’ll know. Fluttershy, you have to tell people how you feel when you feel it. Your feelings matter. You can’t stay cooped up in your room writing letters you’re never going to send. 

Fluttershy let out a soft, exhausted breath. “I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am,” Rarity said, matter-of-fact. Then she paused, her voice softening. “And forgive me if I’m wrong, but… Rainbow was the one who came up with the fake dating idea. You made most of the “rules”. And she’s the one who keeps chasing after you.”

Fluttershy’s eyes flickered up.

Rarity gave her a look. “If there’s someone in this situation who’s more afraid the other doesn’t feel the same? I don’t think it’s you.”

Fluttershy’s lips parted in astonishment. It was like something tilted in her chest, small and seismic.

Rarity leaned back a little, letting that sit. “Say, just hypothetically, you got the letters back. Would you ever let her read them?”

Fluttershy bit her lip, her eyes shining. “I don’t even know if I can ever look at them again,” she said, voice cracking just slightly. She gave a shaky laugh. “You know, it’d be nice. For once. To have someone write about me.”

From behind them, a low voice chimed in. “You’re kidding, right?”

Fluttershy startled, looking up just in time to see Applejack leaning casually against the booth wall, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

“Hold on.” Applejack reached into her satchel from the booth behind and pulled out a bunch of wrinkled sheet music pages “Read these.”

Fluttershy blinked, accepting the papers. “What are…?”

“Just read them,” Applejack said, nudging her gently.

Fluttershy glanced down. “Um. E, G, D flat…”

“No, sugarcube,” Applejack said, chuckling. “The lyrics.”

Fluttershy scanned further down, and stopped. Her breath caught.

The Reins

Can’t stop saying the name

Can’t grab onto the reins

Your hair flows back 

And I’m trying to stay

Lightning Back

You’ve got me cracking like

Lightning back

Wanna take my shot like

Lightning back

Moonset

I'll never reach it, stuck in the orbit

I'll can't stop dreaming, my feet on the ground

Hands on the grass, watching the moonset

I want to be the one to see you around

Fluttershy looked up slowly, stunned. “What are you saying? Are these… some of these songs are from when we first started the band!”

Rarity smiled knowingly. “It was just a theory I had. I bounced it off Applejack a few days ago-”

“-and we realized how damned obvious Dash has been.”

Fluttershy looked bewildered. “But she couldn’t possibly….” she trailed off. 

Applejack took the seat beside her. “You won’t know ‘till you ask.”

Rarity sat back, crossing her legs. “Do you still think you haven’t gotten a love letter, darling?”

Chapter Text

Sunlight was softly creeping in through the sheer curtains when Fluttershy woke, her limbs heavy with sleep and her cheeks still warm against her pillows. The splatters of light draped across her bedroom floor were comforting, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, her body didn’t ache with anxiety. There was a quiet stillness in her chest as she blinked against the morning light, stretching slowly beneath the covers. The events of the past few days flickered back in fragments, all circulating around a certain girl with streaks in her hair.

Rainbow Dash’s name landed softly in her stomach. It didn’t hurt Fluttershy the same way it did the last two nights. She couldn’t place if she was healing or just numb, but at least now, she could breathe through it.

Downstairs, she heard the soft sizzle of something on the stove, followed by her mother humming a gentle melody. She smiled to herself, slipping out of bed and pulling on a cardigan. The house smelled like bananas and cinnamon. When she padded into the kitchen, her mother was flipping golden pancakes in her favorite skillet, a floral apron tied neatly around her waist.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” her mom said, cheerful as ever. “Banana oat today. Thought I’d try that new recipe from the magazine. Sit, sit. Are you hungry?”

Her father looked up from the paper at the kitchen table, adjusting his glasses. “Morning, bumblebee. How was your concert?”

Fluttershy smiled faintly. “Loud, but I think everything went well.”

Before anyone could say more, Zephyr Breeze stumbled into the kitchen, still barefoot, wearing a paint-stained hoodie and carrying his sketchpad under one arm. His hair was a mess. So, business as usual.

Their mother instinctively perked up. “Zephyr, you want the first pancake?”

Zephyr looked over at Fluttershy, then, shockingly, shook his head. “Nah. Let Flutters have it. I’ve gotta head down to the studio anyway. Early critiques.”

Fluttershy blinked. “What?”

“What?” he echoed with mock innocence. “I can be generous.” He smirked, but it was sincere.

Fluttershy raised a skeptical, yet playful brow. “Well, miracles happen, I guess.”

Zephyr rolled his eyes, but before he turned to go, he caught Fluttershy’s gaze, and for once, his expression was truly soft. “Later,” he said simply.

Fluttershy’s lips curled into a quiet smile. “Good luck.”

Then he was gone, and for a few minutes, the kitchen was full only with the smell of breakfast and the low rustle of the newspaper. It was, unexpectedly, peaceful. A moment of normalcy that Fluttershy hadn’t realized she missed.

She was just pouring syrup onto her plate when the doorbell rang.

Her mother glanced toward the hallway. “Can you get that, dear?”

Fluttershy nodded, brushing her hands on a napkin as she crossed to the front door. She opened it with casual ease, and froze.

Standing on the porch, hands in the pockets of a worn bomber jacket and aviator sunglasses tucked into her shirt collar, was Spitfire.

“Hey,” she said simply.

Fluttershy stifled a gasp, her breath catching instantly in her throat.

“…Hi?”

“Sorry for just showing up,” she said, voice low but steady. “I just figured I should probably talk to you. In person.”

Fluttershy nodded, slow and hesitant, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the porch swing. It had creaked gently as they settled on its opposite ends, and a breeze tugged at Fluttershy’s cardigan, pulling a few strands of her hair loose.

Spitfire glanced out across the lawn, tapping her fingers against her knee once before speaking.
“So… this is weird, huh?”

Fluttershy let out a quiet, nervous breath that barely passed for a laugh. “A little.”

“I didn’t come to make anything worse,” Spitfire said finally, more serious now. “I just… Dash won’t talk to me. And I,” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about the other night.”

Fluttershy’s hands knotted in her lap, eyes fixed on the floorboards.

“I mean,” Spitfire continued, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but after you left, she was… pissed. Wouldn’t talk to anyone.” She leaned back slightly, letting the swing rock beneath them. It creaked again, soft and gentle.

“Uhhh. Shoot.” Spitfire exhaled then, frustrated. “I don’t really know how to talk to you about this.” She reached beside her and lifted Fluttershy’s tote onto her lap. “I think this belongs to you, by the way.”

Fluttershy blinked, bewildered, clutching it close. “I… oh?” She tried to keep her expression neutral, but clearly failed as she saw the dry smirk on Spitfire’s face. 

“God, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t snoop or anything.” Spitfire shook her head, chuckling lightly.

That startled a subtle look of surprise from Fluttershy, her eyes widening with wonder. “You… didn’t?”

Spitfire raised a brow. “Why the hell would I?” She laughed. “You must think I’m pretty evil.”

Fluttershy’s breath caught in her throat. Her cheeks flushed with quiet shame. “No, no…just, thank you. Truly.”

Spitfire offered a half-smile in return. “Listen, uh. Nothing happened between us.”

Fluttershy nodded. “That’s what Rainbow told me.”

“She was telling the truth,” Spitfire said, eyes earnest. “That night, we really did just talk. In my room, for privacy. But I know what it must have looked like.”

Fluttershy hesitated, voice barely above a whisper. “What were you talking about?”

Spitfire looked at her for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh. “I think… that’s something Dash should tell you. If she wants to.” The redhead shifted again, the swing creaking beneath her weight. “I didn’t mean to get in between you guys. If that’s what happened. I guess… look. Dash and I have been dancing around each other ever since she joined varsity. It was all very… competitive. ‘Will they, won’t they’, you know? We one-up each other. Constantly.”

Fluttershy sat still, shoulders tense. The wind tugged at her hair again.

“What I mean is, her mind wasn’t fully in it,” Spitfire continued. “And when you came to that first practice, I finally realized why.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened slightly, still staring at the ground. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

“Things have been kinda weird,” Spitfire said with a shrug. “'Cause I mean, the two of you came outta nowhere. And I didn’t expect anything to happen between me and her. Not… not actually, you know? But I won’t pretend I wasn’t a little blindsided.”

Fluttershy looked at her, confused. “You were?”

Spitfire chuckled. “What, surprised?” She grinned. “Yeah. I mean… for someone so quiet, you sure know how to drive a girl wild.”

Fluttershy blinked, mortified. “I—what?”

Spitfire held up her hands quickly, laughing. “Dash! I mean Dash.”

“O-Oh!” Fluttershy looked down again, flustered. “Right.”

The swing rocked gently between them, the only sound the creaking of chains and the wind brushing through the trees.

“I think she’s just scared,” Spitfire said quietly. “Probably as scared as you.” She stood then, brushing her palms off on her jeans. “She’s not the best with words. But I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

Fluttershy looked up, the breeze brushing strands of hair across her flushed face.

Spitfire smiled, just a little. “So… yeah.”

​​As she turned to go, Fluttershy’s brows furrowed, her thoughts finally catching up to her.

“Wait!” she said softly. “How did you even know where I live?”

Spitfire paused on the bottom step, glanced back over her shoulder, and rolled her eyes playfully.

“Dash wouldn’t shut up about how ‘awesome’ your house was one practice.” She waved her hands around to emphasize the word jokingly. “Sage with a yellow porch swing on Fifth, right?”

Fluttershy blinked before smiling softly and standing up, clutching the tote to her chest. “I’m sorry too, Spitfire. About all the… weirdness.”

“No need,” Spitfire said, already stepping back. “You two’ll figure it out.”

She gave Fluttershy a final nod, then turned down the porch steps, her sneakers echoing faintly on the gravel as she disappeared down the path.

Fluttershy dropped down from the chain-link fence with a soft thud, the impact jarring her knees just a little. She brushed the dust off her pants, glancing back at the locked gate behind her. Only athletes had the key on weekends. She wasn’t really supposed to be here.

Her eyes found Rainbow Dash instantly. She was out near the goal on the other side of the field, running drills alone. Dressed in a fitted blue compression shirt and shorts, sleeves pushed up, her legs moved fast, sharp and focused. The ball rolled into the net with a satisfying bounce just as she looked up.

Fluttershy stared out to the other girl from right next to the bleachers, breathing heavily. The stillness was immediate, besides the crisp morning wind blowing at her flowy top, sending a shiver down her spine. She took a shaky step forward, letters clutched in one hand.

“Knew I’d find you here,” she said softly, echoing Dash’s own words from a certain afternoon in a cafe, when they sat on opposite ends of a table, so unaware of what was to come. 

Rainbow blinked, sweat glistening at her temple. “Uh… hey.”

“Hey.”

Another long silence passed between them.

Dash squinted at her. “How did you get in?”

“I, uh…” Fluttershy glanced behind her. “Jumped the fence.”

Rainbow tilted her head, visibly impressed. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Dash nodded slowly, walking a few steps closer. Fluttershy’s heart immediately started pounding louder.

Rainbow's gaze dropped to the stack of envelopes in Fluttershy's hand, nodding as if to gesture to them. “What are those?”

Fluttershy didn’t answer directly. She shook her head swiftly, unable to meet Dash’s eyes. “I’m so sorry we fought. I needed to—”

“Fluttershy, don’t—”

“I promise,” Fluttershy said quickly, bravely looking at Rainbow now, “I’ll let you speak. But I have to do this first.”

Rainbow hesitated, mouth opening and closing, before she crossed her arms then gave a quiet nod.

Fluttershy held the envelopes out.

Dash’s brows furrowed as she looked down at them and slowly took hold of the stationary, blinking down at the handwriting on the top one. 

Fluttershy’s voice was barely a whisper. “I need you to know that…” the speech she rehearsed on the walk over halted as Rainbow slid the first letter out of its envelope, beginning to read.

“That one…” Fluttershy swallowed. “That’s from freshman year.”

Dash's eyes widened just slightly. Her fingers tightened on the paper.

Today was the last day of the district buddies program. I had just finished cleaning up the arts and crafts room when your soccer coach asked Treehugger and I to come out to the field. Everyone was packing up. The thunder was close, and the sky was fading into that weird yellow color. The coach was a mess because somehow, during the soccer lesson, Scootaloo went missing. We were all searching the school, looking in classrooms, the cafeteria, even a few blocks down in each direction. Eventually, the teachers had begun to assume she went home.

But you didn’t.

You ran back onto the field while it was pouring, yelling her name. I remember the lightning hitting somewhere nearby, and I was frozen. Just completely frozen. And then I saw you sprint across the grass, like it didn’t even matter that it was dangerous.

You found her, hiding under the bleachers, crying and soaking wet because she was scared and couldn’t find her inhaler. And you didn’t even hesitate. You dropped to your knees, helped her breathe, talked her through it while your own hands were shaking. Then you carried her all the way across the field to the nurse’s office like it was nothing.

You were soaked to the bone. You were shivering. But you kept saying she was the only thing that mattered.

I think that’s when I realized how much you matter to me.

Not because you’re fast, or strong, or the first freshman to make varsity. It’s because you always show up for others, when it really counts. Even when it’s raining, when it’s dangerous, when no one else is watching, you show up.

I used to just admire you, the way you laugh, the way you run, the way you light up when you’re doing something you love. Even the way you lose your temper on all of our friends just to come back the next day, apologizing with your hair impulsively dyed new colors. But I didn’t understand it. You’ve always felt so far from me, like someone I could never catch up to.

But now, I think I see something different: your heart.

And I think you're the kind of person I want to be close to.

Yours, 

Fluttershy

Rainbow looked up at Fluttershy when she was done reading, eyes wide and shaky with something unreadable within them. 

“I need you to know that I have feelings for you, Rainbow Dash. Real ones.”

Dash was already scanning through the next letter, eyes flicking from left to right quickly as her breathing visibly quickened. Fluttershy stood awkwardly in the grass, shifting from foot to foot.

“The one that…,” she added quietly, “the one Zephyr put in your locker… it was for you, too.”

That made Dash look up, sharply. Her expression was unreadable but intense, and it made Fluttershy falter.

“I lied because… I wasn’t ready to tell you yet. I wasn’t ready to…” She took a shaky breath. “Lose you.”

Her voice trembled now, rushing like she had to get it all out before she lost her nerve.
“And I didn’t— I didn’t do the fake thing just to be close to you. I thought maybe… maybe it would help me get over it...”

Dash’s eyes were zooming from the pages to Fluttershy in between letters, flipping to the third one, the fourth.

Fluttershy watched her anxiously. “But when I realized I couldn’t…” Her throat closed for a second. “I pulled away from you. Because I was scared. It would’ve hurt even more, after everything we did.”

She blinked fast. Her eyes were stinging now.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t honest with you,” she whispered. “You deserve the truth. You deserve… everything.”

Rainbow had finished the letters. She was just holding them now, one hand clenched around the stack like it was too much to take in all at once. Her hand shook up and down, mirroring the way she bounced her leg under tables or during tests, Fluttershy noticed.

Dash didn’t say anything, and Fluttershy’s heart cracked, slow and quiet.

“I guess…” she said, voice almost gone, “that’s all I have to say.”

The silence that followed was unbearable, Dash’s gaze unexplainably frozen. 

Fluttershy swallowed. “Please say something.”

And Rainbow moved.

She didn’t say a word, stepping forward and wrapping her lean arms around Fluttershy, pulling her into a deep hug. Fluttershy let out a quiet breath of surprise, her arms instinctively winding around Rainbow’s back. Dash gently tucked her face into the curve of the taller girl’s neck, her skin warm and a little damp from sweat.

Wrapped in Rainbow's arms, Fluttershy let herself breathe for the first time in what felt like forever. The scent of sweat and grass and something unmistakably Dash surrounded her, familiar and safe.

“Shy…” Rainbow said softly, her voice raspy and hoarse near her ear. “The reason…”

She pulled back just enough to look Fluttershy in the eyes, her hands still holding her like she was afraid she’d disappear.

“The reason I talked to Spitfire that night… I needed to tell her to knock it off. Whatever it was we were doing, that on-and-off, flirty competition thing since, like, freshman year? I was done with it. And I know I should have told her that a long time ago. I’m sorry.” One of her hands slides up to Fluttershy’s shoulder, grounding her. The other stays wrapped around her waist.

“Because, uh… I’m in love with you, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy gasped, her breath catching like her body forgot how to function. Her brain tried to find words, but nothing came.

Rainbow smiled, a little bittersweet, and continued.

“When I first saw that letter, it seriously messed me up. In a good way. I didn’t know where it came from, but Shy, I’d been waiting so long to hear something like that. And I thought… maybe I had a shot.”

Fluttershy’s heart was pounding.

“All this time, I thought I didn’t deserve you. That I wasn’t… you know,” she let out a shaky laugh, “good enough. And then when you said it wasn’t from you, I figured I was just being dumb. Like usual.”

Rainbow looked down, sheepish. “The fake dating thing…I wanted to help. I wanted to be with you again. Even if it wasn’t real. I just- I didn’t think you’d ever want me.”

Fluttershy blinked, stunned. “Wait, you’ve felt this way since before we started faking it?”

Rainbow let out a soft, breathy laugh, rolling her eyes. “Shy… I can’t even remember not feeling this way.”

Fluttershy just stared at her.

It was too much, too fast. Fluttershy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And yet—

Rainbow was staring at her lips now, hand gliding up to cradle the back of her neck. She leaned in, slow and deliberate, lips brushing close enough that Fluttershy could feel the warmth of her breath her voice dropping. “Can I kiss you now, or…?” She murmured against her lips. They were so close, but then-

“Wait!” Fluttershy gasped, pulling back just slightly.

Rainbow froze, blinking. “What’s wrong?”

“How are we gonna… how does this work?” Fluttershy asked, her voice trembling with sincerity. “We’ve only ever been friends and… fake girlfriends.”

Dash tilted her head, thoughtful. Then she gave a little smirk, teasing and gentle. “Well… we could just keep doing what we’ve been doing the past two weeks.” She grinned. “It’s been pretty awesome, right?”

Fluttershy let out a shaky laugh, eyes shining. “Dashie…”

Dash met her gaze again, serious now. “You have to trust me, Shy,” she said softly. “You have to let me in.”

Fluttershy nodded slowly, her heart a mess of nerves and longing. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

Rainbow leaned in again, and this time, Fluttershy didn’t stop her.

Their lips met in a kiss that started careful, tentative. But then Dash tilted her head, pressing Fluttershy closer to her, fingers threading through long, pink locks. And Fluttershy kissed her back like she’d been waiting years, because she had. It was everything she’d hoped for, and more.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, Fluttershy leaned her forehead against Dash’s. “I’m sorry I kept running away.”

Dash grinned, a little winded. “S’okay. I’ll chase after you next time,” she murmured against the other girl’s lips. 

They kissed a little more, before Dash pulled back again, smirking now. “’Cause I mean… we both know I’m way faster than—”

Fluttershy cut her off with another kiss, laughing into it. When Rainbow leaned back to gaze up at the girl, her expression was so loving it made Fluttershy’s insides melt. “I’m serious, Shy. I’m all in.”

Fluttershy’s smile softened into a gentle laugh. “…Then I suppose… we both kind of broke our contract, didn’t we?”

Dash arched a brow. “Technically, you broke it first when you held my hand in my room.”

Fluttershy’s cheeks warmed, but she didn’t back down. “Well then technically, I broke it before we even started all of this. When I fell for you.”

Rainbow froze, caught off guard. For a moment, her smirk faltered into something unguarded. Then she shook her head, chuckling softly. “Then I guess I broke it first, too.”

Their eyes locked, and something wordless passed between them, and something precious swirled through Fluttershy’s chest, light and aching all at once.

Rainbow quickly shook it off, pacing back a bit and grabbing a stray soccer ball with her left foot. “Alright. Let’s see if you can steal this from me.”

Fluttershy’s brows rose. “Oh, um—”

“C’mon.” Rainbow nudged the ball with her foot, challenging. “Bet you can’t even get close.” As the ball kicked towards her, Fluttershy darted forward and snatched the ball up with her hands. She let out a small laugh, clutching it against her chest as she bolted a few steps away.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Rainbow shouted, already taking off after her. “You can’t use your hands, Shy!”

Fluttershy’s laughter bubbled out, high and breathless, as she ran clumsily across the grass, the ball tucked tight. Rainbow chased her, mock-outraged, her voice carrying over the field.

The two girls ran through the grass, the world around them blurring into color and wind. Fluttershy glanced over her shoulder, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with running, and saw Rainbow chasing her with that fire in her eyes, locked on her, holding her in her gaze.

Dash lunged, catching Fluttershy around the waist. They tumbled together into the field, laughter crashing into laughter until neither could tell whose voice was whose. The ball rolled free, forgotten.

For a second, the world went still. Rainbow’s grin faltered, softening into something far more vulnerable, yet incredibly certain. Then, slowly, she leaned down, closing the gap between them.

Their lips met in another kiss that was clumsy, laughing, and when they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Rainbow pressed her forehead against Fluttershy’s. 

And so, beneath the wide, endless sky, they laid tangled together in the grass. Two girls who had spent years silently chasing after each other, finally found the courage to stop, to stay, to choose each other.

And for the first time, Fluttershy realized that her daydreams could never compare to this. Because this time, it was real.

Chapter Text

 “What is it, ma’am? Where’s the varmint?” Applejack drawled, twanging out her best impression, the clinking sound of her holster and full Calamity Jane costume accentuating her plafyul theatrics.

Rarity’s bedroom was a whirlwind of makeup, costumes, and the smell of the pumpkin spice cupcakes Pinkie had prepared. Applejack tipped her hat low, squinting dramatically at Rarity through the mirror.

Rarity didn’t even look up from her task, the purple tassels off her corset shuffling as she grabbed a brush off her vanity counter. “Darling, hush—I need to focus.”

Her brush swept across Fluttershy’s cheeks in soft, glittering strokes of champagne-colored highlight. Fluttershy gave a tiny giggle at the ticklish bristles, earning a sharp tsk.

“Hold still, please!” Rarity chided.

“Sorry,” Fluttershy murmured, her smile never fading.

In the mirror, she caught Rainbow’s reflection, leaning casually in the doorway, her Spiderman costume tucked into her usual jeans and a jacket. Dash met Fluttershy’s gaze and stuck her tongue out. Fluttershy ducked her head, hiding her grin. Rarity’s brush paused for just a second, the corner of her mouth curving almost imperceptibly before she went back to her work, saying nothing.

“Sunny, I’m telling you, we have to take the highway to Lyra’s place,” Twilight said, tapping a map open on her phone. She was wearing her lab coat and goggles typically reserved for her chemistry internship- Fluttershy couldn’t tell if she was in costume or just her. “Otherwise, we’ll get all backed up once we hit mid-town and miss the first part of the party.” Twilight paused, grinning at Pinkie, who was fumbling with a turquoise speaker. “And therefore miss the snacks.”

“Mid-town?” Sunset echoed, reaching for her vampire jacket and adjusting her glued-on fangs. “Twi, I heard there was an accident on the five, and if traffic’s backed up, we’ll be sitting there until Christmas. If we just go down Cutting, we can take that hilly road all the way down-”

“That’s not even the same street,” Twilight countered, frowning. “Cutting connects to the bypass, not the—”

“It feeds into it,” Sunset said, leaning in with a particular smirk. “Which means—what’s that word you love to use? Oh yeah—correlation.”

Twilight blinked, torn between annoyance and laughter. “That’s not… that’s not how correlation works!”

“Sure it is,” Sunset said breezily. “If I say there’s traffic, there will be traffic.”

Twilight sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, that’s not…that’s just manifesting.”

“See? Now you’re getting it.” The two paused their spat to turn their confused head to the speaker, which was skipping a mile per minute over Halloween song after Halloween song. 

“Pinkie? Just pick one.” Applejack crossed her arms, huffing out a laugh. 

“Argh! But…none… of these… ugh, no,” Pinkie continued flipping through songs on Rarity’s speaker, the hand chains she adorned to compliment her fairy costume hindering the task. “… are right… for…” The opening notes of Ghostbusters blared before Applejack grabbed her hand and gently tugged her down to sit beside her on the edge of Rarity’s bed. “Sugarcube, stop.” she said with a laugh. 

“Okayyy,” Pinkie sighed dramatically, flopping over, wings bouncing up and down.

“Done!” Rarity declared with flourish, setting her brush down. “Fluttershy, darling, you look divine.”

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said softly, admiring the finish on her cheeks as she rose slowly. Rarity, however, gently pushed her back down into the chair. 

“Now—one last time—are you absolutely sure you won’t wear the red wig?”

Fluttershy shook her head politely. “I think I’ll stick with my own hair, if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” Rarity sighed, pretending to be tragic. “Though, truly, that red would have brought out the green in your Mary Jane costume so perfectly.”

Rainbow had sauntered over to the corner, flopped onto the couch lazily. She stretched out and shouted, “Nah, pink’s better anyway!”

Fluttershy’s cheeks turned the exact shade of the lipstick Rarity had picked for her.

Rarity glanced at Rainbow from her vanity as she closed her eyeshadow palette to put it away. “You certainly don’t have the right to comment. You’re not even in full costume!”

“Hey,” Rainbow protested, “I’m Spider-Man off duty! I put on the top of the suit, that’s all you’re getting.”

Applejack looped an arm around Rarity’s waist and gave her a squeeze. “Aw, don’t mind her. Some of us were born in costume.”

Rarity rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her. “You are… something, I’ll give you that. Honestly, I still can’t believe I let you talk me into dressing as the… the saloon singer, of all people.”

Applejack grinned, tipping her hat low. “Hey now, you make a mighty fine Adelaide!”

Rarity turned her head teasingly, closing the cap on her mascara with a low, “Mhm.” Applejack barked out a hearty, endeared laugh in return.

Fluttershy drifted over to the couch, and Rainbow immediately shifted, laying her head down across Fluttershy’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Fluttershy’s hand easily settled lightly in Rainbow’s hair as she leaned back against the baby blue cushions. 

Rainbow tilted her head slightly, her grin lazy and warm. “You’re prettyyy…” she murmured. 

Fluttershy blushed, the corners of her mouth lifting. “Thank you.”

“Like… really pretty.”

Fluttershy stifled a giggle, pursing her lips in an amused smile instead. “Thank you,” she playfully echoed. 

Applejack glanced over from where she was helping Rarity tidy up unused costume pieces. “Alright, lovebirds,” she called, tugging on her hat, “we’re all gonna have to mosey along if we’re gonna get to Lyra’s party on time. Have y’all figured out who’s—”

“I’m driving!” Sunset and Twilight said in perfect unison.

Pinkie clapped her hands together. “Ooooh, I don’t think you guys can both drive!”

The joke made them both groan in unison, palms meeting their faces as Pinkie chuckled, adjusting her fairy wings. Fluttershy couldn’t help but laugh too, smiling down at Rainbow, who in turn, caught the hand resting in her hair and began tracing slow lines down her fingers.

Rarity looked up from the vanity, hands on her hips. “Well, figure it out soon. We still need to have our photoshoot.”

Sunset sighed dramatically. “Alright, fine. Compromise.” She held up her hands, as if to say mercy, and offered her palm up, silently asking for the keys. “We’ll flip it. If it lands buttons-face-up, we take the freeway. Face-down, you let me drive, and we go local. Deal?”

Twilight hesitated, then nodded, handing her the keys. “Deal.”

Sunset blinked, smiled sweetly, and then bolted for the door. “Aaaand, let’s go!” she shouted over her shoulder.

“What? You- you tricked me!” Twilight sputtered, chasing after her. “Sunny, get back here!”

Pinkie followed in a fit of giggles, nearly tripping over a stray pair of Rarity’s heels on the way out.

Rarity grabbed her digital camera and began pulling Applejack out towards the door by the arm with the air of a seasoned photographer. “Wait up, darlings! I need a solo photograph of everyone, a few for the couples, and a group shot!”

The room settled into a soft hush. The faint hum of the radio filled the space, the music mellow now. Rainbow hadn’t moved from the couch, her head still resting in Fluttershy’s lap. The quiet girl looked down at her fondly, before her brows furrowed in playful concern. 

“Dash?” 

Rainbow’s face didn’t twitch. Fluttershy flicked her cheek, making her stir quietly. “Mm?”

Fluttershy huffed out a giggle, moving her hand to her girlfriend’s shoulder to gently shake her. “Dashie, don’t fall asleep.” She whispered wryly. 

Rainbow was awake now, but kept her eyes closed teasingly, her grin widening. “It’s not my fault your lap’s comfy.”

Fluttershy laughed softly, the sound light and familiar. “You said that last week during our movie night.”

“I meant it then too.” Rainbow tilted her head back, eyes half-lidded. “Besides, you didn’t seem to mind.”

Fluttershy’s cheeks pinked slightly, but she kept her tone even. “I didn’t. I don’t.”

They shared a look, one of those quiet, wordless ones they’d gotten good at. Fluttershy had to fight to nervously hold it, feeling Dash’s gaze nearly unravel her.

Rainbow’s voice came softer. “You really do look nice tonight.”

Fluttershy brushed a bit of hair from Rainbow’s forehead, smiling. “You’ve already told me.”

“I’ll probably tell you again,” Rainbow said, eyes closing again. “Just so you don’t forget.”

Fluttershy laughed under her breath, her free hand tracing lazy circles along Rainbow’s shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow murmured. “But you like me anyway.”

Before Fluttershy could respond, the door swung open.

Applejack leaned against the frame, grinning. “Ya’ll, Rarity’s not playing around. You two comin’ or what?”

Rainbow groaned, tightening her arm around Fluttershy’s waist without opening her eyes. “Tell her we’re taking a break.”

“Sure,” Applejack said dryly. “I’ll let her know once she’s done bitin’ my head off.”

Fluttershy giggled, brushing her fingers through Rainbow’s hair. “Come on,” she said gently. “We’ll miss the picture.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, slowly sitting up. “Fine, fine.”

They made their way into Rarity’s living room, where the lights had been dimmed to a soft, golden glow. Fairy lights draped over the curtain rods, which gave everything a gentle shimmer, and Rarity was already in full director mode, waving her camera in a dramatic circle. 

“Alright, everyone, positions!” she declared, her voice bright with command. “We’ll start with our Spider-Man and Mary Jane first!”

Rainbow groaned audibly, rolling her eyes, but couldn’t hide her grin as she reached for Fluttershy, looping an arm around her waist. Fluttershy, in turn, slipped her arms lightly around Rainbow’s shoulders and rested her cheek on top of Rainbow’s head, the pose as natural as breathing.

“Perfect,” Rarity said, lowering her voice to a softer, more focused tone. “Just hold that… now, three…”

Fluttershy glanced down slightly, catching Rainbow’s’s reflection in Rarity’s lens.

“Two…”

Dash turned her head to look up, meeting Fluttershy’s eyes. The corner of her mouth lifted, that quiet, knowing smile that always made her insides melt.

Rarity’s voice seemed far away now. “One—”

Fluttershy tilted her head down just a little more, and their eyes met in the softest kind of forever.

FLASH.