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Far from being on a tropical vacation, you and your friends are stuck on campus thanks to a stupid weaponology class.

In place of a written midterm, your professor had assigned a group project—a 20 minute presentation on any weapons-related topic of your choosing—which would’ve been nice if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s due the week right after break.

You look around the room. Luke’s room.

His dorm has become the group’s default hangout spot ever since he and Cate started dating a few months ago. A natural development, considering Golden Boy lives in a single that’s almost the size of a quad, complete with a shower/tub en-suite.

Everyone’s situated in their usual spot right now with their laptops open in front of them. You and Jordan are sprawled out on the couch, so close to each other that your arms and thighs touch. Andre is nestled in the plush beanbag chair across from you while the lovebirds are sitting side by side on the queen-sized bed with their backs against the wall.

“Ugh, I knew I should’ve dropped this class.” Cate slams her laptop shut so forcefully that you’re surprised the screen didn’t shatter. “It won’t even count towards my core curriculum once I switch to the hero management major next semester.”

She closes her eyes and pinches her nose. “…Is it too late to withdraw?”

“Cate, babe, you know I love you.” You say while pushing yourself off the couch.

Jordan pauses her typing when she no longer feels your touch. Her focus shifts from the screen in front of her to your back as you make your way towards Cate.

Within a few steps, you’re standing next to the blonde with a hand on her shoulder. “…But if you leave us to finish this project by ourselves, you will never know peace again for the rest of our lives.”

The physical contact is intentional. Your thoughts flow into Cate’s mind, letting her know just how serious you are. The corners of your lips curl into a cold smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Meanwhile, Jordan’s eyes land exactly where your hand is touching Cate’s bare skin. Something like irritation flickers across their face for a split second, but they quickly force it back to neutrality.

While you remain clueless to Jordan’s shift in demeanor, Andre catches on. He makes eye contact with them and flashes a knowing smirk. Jordan scowls in response, lifting their middle finger at him.

With an exaggerated grin still on his face, Andre turns to you. “And what are you gonna do, Poison Ivy? Trip Cate every time she walks on grass?”

“That. And more. You don’t know everything my vines are capable of.” You display a proud yet devious smile of your own.

Cate swallows in mild horror. She looks up at Luke, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. “You’ll protect me, right babe?”

A dramatic gasp escapes your lips before Luke can even open his mouth to respond.

“Riordan, you will stay far, far away from my plant babies!” You point your finger at him, the glare on your face landing somewhere between serious and playful.

Unbothered, he shrugs. “Tell your precious babies to leave my girlfriend alone then.”

“It’s so not fair that your power basically hard counters mine,” you huff before stomping back to your seat on the couch.

You snuggle up next to Jordan and wrap one of your arms around her slender waist. “You’ll be on my side if war ever breaks out between me and Luke, right?”

“Only if you’re winning,” Jordan teases.

A laugh escapes from Andre. “If a day comes where Jordie here isn’t on your side, it might be a sign that the world is ending.”

“Fuck off,” Jordan spits out, throwing up both middle fingers this time.

“It’s because they know I’m always in the right,” you say smugly.

Jordan lets out a defeated sigh before shifting into their male form. The transformation chisels out their round face and broadens their shoulders. The curve of their waist disappears, replaced by two firm, straight lines.

That’s when your arm drops back to your side and you retreat a few inches. You’re not aware of your own actions, but Jordan notices.

They always do.

Jordan’s mouth parts as if he’s about to say something, but then he closes it without ever making a sound.

“—Alright, I think that’s enough distractions.” Cate claps her gloved hands together. “Let’s just get back to work so we can actually make it to the party tonight, yeah?” She says with a certain level of artificial sweetness as she opens her laptop once more.

You roll your eyes, holding yourself back from pointing out the fact that she was the one who initiated the sidetracking in the first place.

—

Six hours later, you—along with every other soul unfortunate enough to still be staying on campus during spring break—are at Dusty’s party.

As is the norm at these parties, the air is thick with the scent of cheap alcohol and clashing colognes. Track after track of electronic dance beats blast out of the shitty speakers in the corner, their bass levels turned all the way up.

At some point, you find yourself sitting alone in the living room. Andre and Luke are in the study, defending their title as the duo champions of beer pong. Jordan left to grab a drink a while ago and never returned. Then Cate left too, saying she would go bring them back, but that was almost 10 minutes ago.

Just when you’re about to go looking for your friends, a group of drunk girls—some of which you recognize from different classes—wave you over to join them in dancing. Being a bit tipsy yourself, you oblige.

Moving your body rhythmically, you dance along to loud, obnoxious music that you’ll only ever be able to tolerate within the confines of a party.

During that same time, Cate enters the kitchen in search of Jordan. She stumbles upon them sitting alone on the floor with their knees bent and feet planted flat on the ground, clearly a little distressed in some way.

Parking herself on the ground next to them, she crosses her outstretched legs at the ankles and rests her quarter-full cup on her thigh.

“What are you doing in here alone?” Cate nudges his arm playfully with her elbow. “You know your girl is literally less than 50 feet away.”

Her teasing grin falls when Jordan only replies with an unenthused groan.

She raises a single eyebrow. “What’s the matter with you?”

Jordan runs a hand through his jet black hair, messing up the meticulously gelled style that had taken him almost 15 minutes in front of the bathroom mirror earlier tonight.

“She’s not my girl, Cate, that’s the problem.” Jordan’s voice comes out in a grumble. “She doesn’t like me like that. Not this version of me, at least.” He gestures vaguely to himself.

“Which version of you?”

“…The one with a dick.”

Cate frowns. “You don’t really think she cares about that, do you?”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Jordan lifts their head while to their female form. “Whenever I’m like this, everything is fine. She’s touchy and flirty and it makes me fucking flustered as hell—”

She transforms again, now back to the same male appearance they started in. “—then I turn into this, and all of a sudden she wants nothing to do with me.”

Finally understanding their frustration, Cate gazes at Jordan sympathetically.

The truth is that she knows exactly why you are the way you are. Why you do the things you do. But in order to explain it to Jordan, she would have to reveal to him what you had previously told her about your past in confidence, and Cate would sooner die than to ever consider betraying your trust.

“Just so you know, there’s a reason for that—the whole ‘not touching you when you’re a guy’ thing. It’s not really about you per se.”

“Then what is it about?”

Her face contorts into a grimace. “It’s…not my place to say.”

“Fucking great. Thanks, Cate, that’s really fucking helpful,” Jordan mutters under his breath.

“Hey, watch your tone,” she gives him a stern warning. “Besides, you wouldn’t need me to tell you anything in the first place if you’d just grow the fuck up and confess to her.”

Her harsh words succeed in shutting him up.

As Jordan quietly fidgets with the empty plastic cup in his hands, in step Andre and Luke, who had just finished wiping the floor in the impromptu beer pong tournament.

“Perfect timing, guys.” Cate lifts herself up. “Do me a favor please and tell Jordan they’re being a wuss.”

Andre laughs out loud and looks down at Jordan, who’s still glued to the floor. “You know I’m always down to give this one a hard time, but what are we talking about specifically?”

“What else other than their totally obvious crush that they refuse to do anything about.” Cate crosses her arms, glaring at Jordan with impatience.

The corner of Andre’s mouth ticks up. “In that case, yeah. You’re absolutely being a giant pussy, Jordan. Just go ask her out already.”

“Look, she doesn’t fucking like me, okay?” In his frustration, Jordan raises his voice unintentionally. He casts a worried glance towards the living room, exhaling in relief when it’s clear that you’re too preoccupied with dancing to notice this little gathering in the kitchen.

“…I’m not gonna risk ruining our friendship just so I can confess my stupid one-sided feelings.” He says in a hushed tone, afraid that you’d overhear somehow even though the chance of that happening is practically zero.

Luke, who had just remained a silent observer until now, suddenly chimes in. “How would you know for sure that they’re one-sided if you never ask her?”

“I just do,” Jordan insists.

“Well, I don’t.” Luke replies nonchalantly.

“Okay, but what if you’re wrong and she does like you?” Andre asks.

Jordan doesn’t answer.

The thought has certainly crossed their mind before. What if you do like them back? What if all the seemingly-mindless physical contact and affectionate banter was actually you flirting with them?

But then they’d remember the way you react to their maleness—a vital part of who they are—and it becomes that much easier to convince themselves that you can’t possibly reciprocate their feelings.

“Look, Jordan.” Passing her drink off to Luke, Cate crouches to be eye level with Jordan. She places her gloved hand on his knee. “Even if she doesn’t feel the same way about you, wouldn’t you rather just like, know for sure? Instead of doing whatever it is you’re doing right now?”

Jordan doesn’t answer, but he’s clearly shaken.

“Plus, she would never stop being friends with you. I know that and you know that, so what the fuck are you so afraid of?” Cate adds.

The gears in Jordan’s brain turn for a solid minute before he exhales.

“Fuck,” he admits before finally picking himself up and off the floor.

That’s when you finally walk through the doorway, your cheeks completely flushed from all the dancing.

Your face lights up when you notice everyone.

“I wasn’t aware that the kitchen was where the party’s at!” Laughing, you joke.

The tipsiness you’d felt earlier in the night had mostly subsided, so you figured that you would come into the kitchen and pour another drink for yourself, only to find all your missing friends here.

“Round of shots?” You grab the bottle on the counter and pour its contents into five glasses before anyone has the chance to object.

Once you gulping down your shot, Jordan approaches you with a small cup of cranberry juice to chase with.

They’re normally not great with details, so it’s amazing that they somehow always remember little ones about you, including the scrunched up face you make after every drink that betrays just how much you hate the taste of alcohol.

“Thanks, Jordan,” You grin, happy to get the aftertaste of vodka out of your mouth. “You’re the best, y’know?”

“I know.” he smiles, standing a comfortable distance from you. “Hey, can we maybe talk for a bit? Privately?”

You nod.

No matter how dense you are, you can sense Jordan’s blatant nervousness. So you follow closely behind as he walks out the sliding glass door and into the backyard.

March in upstate New York means that the night breeze is still nippy and will remain so for about two more months. You had arrived at the party wearing a jacket, but it’s currently hanging in the coat closet inside, next to the front door.

When Jordan notices the goosebumps on your exposed arms, he wastes no time sliding off his cherished blue&white varsity jacket and draping it over your shoulder.

You smile. “Like I said, the best.”

Without very little grace, you plop yourself down on the nearby leather sofa. Then you lightly pat the empty spot next to you, signaling for Jordan to sit as well. They shift into their feminine form before lowering themselves into the seat.

You lean back with your full weight as you start to feel the buzz from the shot. “So, what’d you wanna talk about?”

Jordan takes a deep breath in preparation.

“Look, I’m bad at stuff like this, so let me just come out and say it. I like you. Like, really fucking like you. And I know you don’t feel the same way and that’s okay—well actually, it’s fucking devastating, but whatever. I just… I need you to just reject me because the uncertainty really fucking blows.”

You straighten your back as Jordan concludes their ramble, your mouth sitting slightly agape from the shock of being confessed to. Not to mention, by the one person that’s been on your mind since the day you met.

Then the second part of their confession finally registers in your brain, and it makes your brows furrow instinctively.

“—Wait, what makes you think I don’t feel the same way about you?”

“I mean, you only think of me as a girl friend, right? As in a friend who’s a girl? That’s why you only play-flirt with me when I’m feminine and why you always withdraw from me every time I shift. It’s ‘cause you don’t like me as a man.”

Their words have you stunned.

You bite hard at your lip, trying to think back to every time Jordan has shifted in your presence and how you reacted, but your mind blanks.

“Jordan, that’s not true,” you whisper.

“…So it doesn’t bother you that I’m not just a woman?” She asks, uncertainty evident in the slight trembling of her voice.

“No!” You gaze into her eyes with as much sincerity as you can muster. “No way. Please don’t ever think that.”

You take her hand in yours.

“I like you too, Jordan. A lot. And not just when you’re a woman.”

“…Then why do you get so distant whenever I’m a man?”

You hold your breath at the coming of the inevitable.

“Cate’s the only one in this school I’ve ever told. I’ll tell you if you really want to know, but first you have to know that it’s not a fun story.”

“I’m listening.” Jordan’s tone is soft and warm.

You nod.

“In junior year, I had this boyfriend. We’d been dating for like three months when we went to this party at his friend’s house together. I don’t remember exactly how much I drank, I just know I got really fucking drunk. Towards the end of the night he took me to the bedroom and he…” You trail off, the hazy memory of what happened that night bringing tears to your eyes.

In the quiet, you feel Jordan lightly squeeze your hand, letting you know that you’re in control and have the option of stopping whenever. You make the choice to continue instead.

“…I remember saying no, but he was so insistent. And heavy. When I confronted him about it the next morning, he argued that I’d wanted it too but his face told me that he knew exactly what he did. I broke up with him on the spot and that was that. I didn’t tell anyone because I knew it would eventually come down to his word against mine, and it didn’t look good for me. I willingly went to the party, got myself shitfaced, and—”

“And you didn’t do anything wrong. That cunt took advantage of you. He deserves to rot in hell.”

Jordan’s jaws are clenched, her anger visible from the slightly protruding vein on her neck. The hand that isn’t holding yours is balled up into a tight fist in her lap. It brings you comfort, knowing how much Jordan cares about you.

“Yeah, that’s what Cate said too.” You say softly. “…Anyway, for like five whole months after that, I couldn’t have any physical contact with men without completely freaking out. It got better over time, but I guess maybe it just morphed into something else entirely.”

You know that the trauma of being assaulted had affected you deeply back then, but you never thought that, even two years after the fact, it would still play such a significant role in how you interact with the world around you.

“What’s the douchebag’s name?”

Your eyebrow ticks upward at Jordan’s question as a smile appears on your face.

“I know you’re only asking so you can go find him and beat him up. Don’t bother. He died last year. Tried to drive home from a party drunk as fuck, veered off the road, and that was it.”

“Oh,” Jordan whispers with slight disappointment.

“I was glad he died back then because it meant I didn’t have to see him in school around anymore, but now I kind of wish he was still alive so that I could kill him myself. Is that really fucked up?”

“Maybe,” Jordan shrugs, “but I support it. Maybe we can go piss on his grave together?”

That elicits genuine laughter from you.

“…I’m really sorry I made you feel like I only cared about a part of you, Jordan,” you say, looking into their eyes. “I need you to know that I like you fully as you are. Both genders.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who misunderstood things all on my own.”

Jordan studies you closely for a second.

“Would it be okay…if I shift? Like, right now?”

“Please.” It’s your turn to give their hand a reassuring squeeze.

As they shift, you make it a point to take note of exactly what does and does not change about them. While they become physically larger and sharper, the timid way they smile remains the same. A smile that you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of.

You pull him into a tight hug, the distancing between you disappearing as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He freezes for a second before tenderly placing his hands on your back and beginning to move them back and forth in a comforting rhythm.

As one of the strongest supes in school, Jordan could easily overpower you in two seconds flat. You’re fully aware of that fact and yet you’re not scared in the slightest.

You trust them. Perhaps more than you’ve ever trusted anyone else before.

When you finally pull apart, there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“So,” you flash him a crooked grin, “you ‘really fucking like’ me, huh?”

Jordan rolls his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance on his face. “You’re probably the last person on campus to know that.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly a good actor. It’s honestly a little impressive how oblivious you are.”

“There’s no way. You’re just messing with me.”

Jordan just shakes his head at your disbelief before hopping off the couch and then reaching his arms out to help you up as well. His hand continues to hold onto yours as you both head back inside.

You step into the kitchen where your friends had just been standing around, watching the entire situation play out. Jordan slides the door closed behind them.

“Fucking finally,” Cate approaches, a grin on her face that only gets wider when she looks down and sees your interlocking hands. “It was honestly getting super tiring constantly hearing your thoughts about how much you like each other.”

With a smug look, Andre puts his arm around Jordan’s shoulders. “Nice work, Jordie, but I do have to point out that I was right and you were wrong.”

“Even Andre knew?” You turn to Jordan. “Shit. You really weren’t kidding, were you?”

“Told you.”

Applejack’s leaning against the door in her usual denim jeans, white blouse unbuttoned at the top. Her skin is sun warmed and golden, freckles scattered across her face like stardust.

There’s a faint sheen on her arms, the kind that only comes from a long day of work, and when she tilts her hat back, her muscles are tau — traces of sweat and moisture clear in afternoon light.

“Well look who’s back early,” you say, dusting your hands on your apron and smiling.

She grins—easy and a little cocky. “Couldn’t stay away once I caught a whiff of somethin’ bakin’. You tryin’ to spoil me, sugar?”

You huff a laugh, turning back to the oven as you clean up the counters with a damp rag. “It’s apple crisp, your favourite.”

Her boots click against the floor as she walks up behind you, close enough that you feel the heat radiating off her. “This here is why I love you,” she murmurs, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

You turn, ready to accuse her of only loving you because you can bake. But she’s already looking down at you, green eyes steady, thumb warm against your cheek as it brushes a smear of flour off.

“Well,” she says, voice a touch softer now, “guess I owe ya a thank you, somehow.”

You raise an eyebrow, smirk growing on your face. “Oh yeah? How’re you planning on doing that, cowgirl?”

Her grin widens. “Reckon I’ll think of somethin’ sweet.”

Her words hang in the air for a beat too long. Then, before you can say anything, she laughs under her breath and wraps her arms around you.

“Applejack!” you yell, trying to wriggle free as your clothes crumple against her hold. “You’re all sweaty-!”

She just chuckles, chin resting on your shoulder. “Well, of course. Takes hard work to look this good.”

You swat at her arm, still laughing, but she only tightens her hold for a second, her warmth sinking into you like sunlight. When she finally lets go, you’re blushing so hard you could probably bake another dessert from the heat on your face alone.

“Okay, enough! Go take a damn shower before you touch me again,” you turn your head in order to hide your blush, pretending to examine the numbers on the oven timer.

Her grin turns downright wicked. “Well now, ya didn’t seem to mind all that much last time I came home lookin’ like this.”

You blink. Is she…“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She tips her hat, eyes glinting. “Oh, nothin’, sugar. Just sayin’ you sure weren’t complainin’ last time when I came home and you-”

“APPLEJACK.”

She gives an unbothered laugh and finally releases you, heading down the hall as you groan into your flour dusted hands. 

“I call dibs on the biggest one!” she calls, and you swear you can hear the smirk in her voice.

october event masterlist | main masterlist

screaming. can you tell i have a thing for southern accents

okay as always i hope you guys enjoyed!