#gender is not a lifetime commitment and you won't get detention if you change your mind

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Thank you so much for the graphic you shared about gender identity, with umbrellas (different anon). For about 1-2 years I've felt like I might be nonbinary -- it actually started when I read a sci-fi book about a world where there were men, women, people of a third gender, and people with no gender, and everyone was allowed to choose/figure it out at their own pace -- and I thought, "Wow, that sounds wonderful." And thoughts expanded from there. Sometimes I worry I'm making it up, though.

HERE’S THE DEAL, ANON

Actually there are three discrete deals, but here they are.

First of all, the question I always remind people to ask is--why would you be making it up?  People make up things about their own identity for some kind of concrete benefit--if I decide to pass as cis, I’m doing it to protect myself on some level.  So what would the benefit be?  If you can’t think of one, maybe you’re not making it up.  Trust yourself, sweetheart.  If you doubt your own heart so much that you don’t believe that you know what sounds wonderful to you, then you may want to speak to someone about that.  My guess is, though, that you just--don’t feel quite allowed.  I feel you.  It took me years to feel like I was allowed to call myself trans, and I needed to be kindly lectured by a stranger at Comic Con before I was able to get past that.  So, here’s permission.  You’re allowed.  Try some stuff out!  Experiment in small ways!  See what feels good to you, what brings you joy!  Trust yourself and take that joy when you find it!

Second of all, hell, listen, even if you try out whatever “being nonbinary�� means to you and you go “hm, no, I actually don’t like this,” then...so what?  What’s the problem?  You’re not signing your life away to whatever gender you experiment with.  You concluding you’re actually a trans man, or a demigirl, or that you’re just straight up cis and sometimes like to play around with how you present--none of that is hurting anyone.  You’re not invalidating the existence of anyone else.  You just tried something out and discovered it didn’t feel right and tried something different.  Gender isn’t a lifetime contract, it’s a nice jacket.  If you try it on in the store, you don’t have to buy it.  If you buy it, you can return it.  You can have nine jackets.  You can have no jackets.  It’s no one else’s problem how many jackets you have, or how long you try them out for.

And third, it is completely okay for you to take as much time as you need to figure out your own self.  It’s hard to figure yourself out!  Sometimes it’s a little scary, or a lot scary!  Sometimes you have other shit to do!  I distinctly remember starting my sophomore year of college and being halfway through a homework assignment when my brain very helpfully stopped doing biology and said, “You’re trans, you’ve never felt like a woman in your life even if I haven’t decided what the endgame is, and someday you might want to deal with that.”  

And I set down my pencil and took some deep breaths and responded with, “Maybe so, brain, but honestly what I need to deal with right now is passing Cellular Biology because I fast-talked my way out of the intro classes, so how about we come back to this in a couple of years?”  Said it out loud to my empty dorm room and everything.  And went back to my damn homework.

And then I proceeded to Not Deal With It for the rest of college!  I just!  Didn’t!  I didn’t interrogate anything about gender and I played the same shoddily constructed Star (Woman Edition) role I’d done my whole life and told everyone I was cis and finished my degree.  And by the time I’d finished my degree I’d kind of gotten used to my brain putting on the Check Gender light every once in a while, so I cut all my hair off, got rid of all my dresses, stopped wearing heels, bought some binders and waistcoats, and explained the term “nonbinary” to my parents, over the course of about six months.

Sometimes shit takes time.  Sit with it for as long as you need to.  Try on some jackets.  All your enby siblings are still going to be here and thrilled to have you when you’re ready.

[officially-tonynat-shrine]

Anything You Sing

A/N: Ok, so this was originally an ask from @shamelessbookaddict so credit goes to her. The ask: Bicth just imagining singing good ol bollywood songs to peter; him not understanding a word but loving it anyway; bruce just smirking at you when you sing something romantic

So I decided to shift the fic here instead of directly answering the ask. So if at all I make a master list, this would be helpful :D also, here is the audio of the song I used, if you want to sing along! The singer is male and I haven't changed the few lines in the song indicating the gender of the singer in the fic. I wanted to stay as true to the song as possible!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Indian!reader

Summary: You confess your love by singing a song

Warnings: the word 'fuck' twice? // Words: idk man, I didn't count

••••

Peter was having a bad day. A very, very bad day. School was hectic. He had lots of homework pending due to night patrol (totally his fault, actually. And he knew it. So he couldn't blame anyone else). His sleep schedule was an absolute mess because he would stay up when ever he got the chance to finish off his projects and models. His attention span in classes was now that of a fucking squirrel on crack and he had gone to the principal's office twice already.

Just when he had thought that things couldn't get worse, he had dozed off in yet another Biology lecture. Usually, the teacher would let him off the hook because he was a bright student and could easily catch up. So Peter tended to doze off for a few minutes trying to complete eight hours of sleep in five minutes. But today, it was a very important lecture going on and the Ms. Mason had strictly informed the class that everybody had to be attentive. Of course, Peter had to doze off. Unfortunately, he had been caught. Ms. Mason's disapproving glare was enough for him to believe that he had committed the ultimate betrayal. He was now very close to the Avengers' Tower, and he had already mentally hit himself a hundred times.

Peter just hoped that for the love of God and everything Holy, you was there. You were the only other Avenger who was his age. Of course, there was also Shuri, his homegirl, but currently, she was miles away in Wakanda. The three of you always shared a close bond and he could only hope that his bond with you would be much closer. He was a blushing mess when it came to you.

He entered the Tower heading directly for the elevator when he heard your voice.

"Pete! Hey, Spidey! Wait up!"

He turned around to see you bounding towards him. You threw your arms around him bringing him into a tight hug. You had missed him. He could understand that by the way you stood so close to him, able to listen to his heart beat rise. He hugged you back with the same enthusiasm as yours. Unable to hold back a sigh, he snuggled his face deeper into your neck.

You stepped back- not leaving his arms, he noticed, blushing wildly- and asked him with furrowed brows, "What happened, Pete?"

He smiled at you, grateful that he had someone like you who could understand him so easily. God, sometimes he just wanted to take you in his arms and cuddle forever.

"Nothing. It's just that school is turning quite hectic now-a-days."

You studied him for a moment, eyes taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the weary, tired smile he gave you. His brown eyes, usually sparkling with delight and excitement, now held exhaustion.

"Okay, that's it. You and I are going upstairs to the common room and you are going to sleep on the couch. I know you won't sleep in your room. You'll probably start doing your homework. And no arguments!" You shut him down before he could protest. Dragging him into the elevator you asked FRIDAY to take you to the common room.

"(Y/N)."

"Hmm?"

"(Y/N)!!!!!"

"What Peter?" You snapped at him. It had been half an hour since you had forcefully made him go to sleep on the couch and fifteen minutes since he had started whining about how he was not feeling sleepy.

He was sprawled on the big, grey couch, and in the short span of thirty minutes had somehow managed get tangled in the pillows and cushions placed. His head was dangling from the corner of the couch as lay on his stomach, left hand on the ground supporting his body. His right hand was somewhere in between a pillow and his head and one leg was on the couch's headrest. It was certainly a view for you. You sat at the opposite end of the couch, the book you had brought with you long forgotten.

"You know I can't sleep anywhere other than my bed unless there is music."

He didn't know how he got the confidence. He had been contemplating about asking you to sing to him while he sleeps but was too scared to see how you would react. Perhaps it was his sleepiness which made him bolder, the lack of sleep affecting his control over his speech. But it had not completely taken over him. He tried to fight the urge to just spew out his feelings for you.

"Music? What kind of music do you want to hear?"

"Anything you sing."

Now he really wanted to slap himself. He had really gone and done that. This was worse than spewing out his feelings for you. Now he was never going to get to cuddle you because he was too sleep deprived to think before he said anything and you were gonna slap him across the face and walk away-

"Peter stop panicking. Peter! Are you okay?"

You were stunned when he had asked you to sing. You weren't expecting him to be this forward. You had your suspicions on whether or not he liked you but you never acted upon your feelings and the innate desire to just ask him out in the fear of being rejected. There had been instances when you thought that maybe he reciprocated your feelings but then he would say something and you would immediately start questioning yourself. So you stood in the sidelines, trying to get closer to him so that you can understand him, only to fall more for him. Now, here he was, panicking and shaking, about to fall from that goddamn couch, pillows and all, and you didn't know whether he was just sleepy or actually liked you. So much for understanding him.

"Look, I- I, (Y/N)-"

"If you want me to sing, I can." You smiled through your stupidity and tried to stop from strangling yourself with a rope.

His eyes lit up as he groggily pushed himself up from the other end of the couch and slid towards you.

"Thanks, (Y/N). You are the best." He replied, placing his head on your lap. Consequences be damned, he was already getting detention tomorrow. Might as well do this.

You stilled, trying to form coherent thoughts. Stumbling through your words, you finally relaxed and placed your hand on his head.

Running your fingers through his hair, you decided on the first song that came to your mind.

"FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Ms. (L/N)?"

"If anyone passes by and asks you to translate the song I'm about to sing, don't do it, please."

"Of course, ma'am."

"Also, can you play the instrumental for the song when I start singing? Keep the volume at minimum."

"Okay, Ms. (L/N)."

Peter snuggled into your lap as you cleared your throat.

"Chookar mere mann ko, kiya tumne kya ishara"

"Is that Hindi? What does it mean?" Peter asked sleepily.

You smiled at him. "Sleep, Petey."

FRIDAY started playing the instrumental.

"Chookar mere mann ko, kiya tumne kya ishara"

What did you mean to do, when you touched my heart so?

"Badala ye mausam, lage pyara jag saara"

The seasons changed, and the world seems beautiful!

"Chookar, mere mann ko, kiya tumne kya ishara. Badala ye mausam, lage pyaara jag saara."

"Tu jo kahe jeevan bhar, tere liye mai gaaun"

If you say so, I'll sing for you for a lifetime.

"Tere liye mai gaaun"

I'll sing for you.

"Geet tere bolon pe, likhta chala jaaun"

I can keep on writing music from what you speak

"Likhta chala jaaun"

I can keep on writing...

"Mere geeton mei, tujhe dhoondhe jag saara"

In my songs, the world will search for you.

"Chookar mere mann ko, kiya tumne kya ishara. Badala ye mausam, lage pyaara jag saara."

You rocked him as you sang, his soft, content snores filling you with satisfaction. A smile made it's way on your face without you even realising it.

"Aaja tere aanchal ye, pyaar se mai bhar du"

Come, I'll fill your arms with love.

"Pyaar se mai bhar du"

I'll fill it with love.

"Khushiyan jahabhar ki, tujhko nazar kar du"

I'll gift you all the happiness in the world

"Tujhko nazar kar du"

I will gift you..

"Tu hi mera jeevan, tu hi jeene ka sahaara"

You are my life, you are my reason to live.

"Chookar mere mann ko kiya tumne kya ishara. Badala ye mausam, lage pyaara jag saara."

"Chookar mere mann ko kiya tumne kya ishara."

Closing your eyes, you smiled. Oh the things you would do to stop time at this very moment. You wanted to live in this moment forever.

"That was amazing."

You shrieked, not expecting anyone to be around. You turned, trying to see how many people heard you, groaning when you see almost all the Avengers.

"Why didn't you guys say anything?!" You whisper, trying not to disturb Peter who was sound asleep on your lap.

"Well, you were amazing. And we wouldn't want to awake Pete, now would we?" Tony answered.

"Okay, fair enough."

"What does that mean?"

You blanched. You had hoped this won't come up. You looked at Steve who had asked the question, face filled with confusion just like the rest of them. Of course, they were asking about the song's meaning. Something you'd rather eat shit than having to tell them.

"Nothing. It meant nothing. It's just a song I like." You lied, your tone firm with finality.

"Okay, if you won't answer, I'll ask FRIDAY. Hey, FRIDAY, what did the song that (Y/N) sang mean?"

You swore to God you had never felt so proud of yourself in that moment.

"Sorry, boss. But Ms. (L/N) has asked me to not translate it to anyone."

"What?! I'm the boss here, FRIDAY. Come on. You can't say no to me."

"Sorry, boss. Ms. (L/N) requested to not translate it to anyone. And you fall under that category."

Bucky snorted at Tony's appalled gasp. Nat was trying so hard not to laugh. Sam did not even bother to hide his laughter. Your smile widened, before it dropped. Bruce. Bruce was smiling directly at you. Fuck. He knew. Obviously, he knew. You begged for mercy, mouthing how grateful you will be if he could just shut his mouth and not tell anyone. He snorted before obliging. But you could see his gears turn. And you thought Bruce was the person who did not meddle in people's matters at all. You shook your head. You could talk to him later.

"Hey, doesn't Bruce know Hindi?"

"No!"