#my fucking. hourglass hips i can't do much about but i also don't think i'd mind them if my chest was flatter???

[thegempage]

tbh fifteen year old opal was right

(i should get a severe breast reduction or just straight up top surgery)

[emaciated-creechur]

I don't understand how people can want to look like clones of each other simply because it's popular to look a certain way other than just feeling incredibly lonely and desperately wanting to fit in, or having such low self esteem you let others decide how you wanna look. And I feel so sad for those people, cause they must feel so awful about themselves and think getting external validation will somehow make them feel better about themselves but it won't, it'll never be enough. Sure, getting love and support helps a lot but it won't make you actually change the way you see yourself in the long run, that's an effort you have to make for yourself.

Idk I guess I don't understand how some people can find other people ugly simply because of some random thing that has no baring on the kind of person they are. I think everyone looks so cool and beautiful and unique and it's so wonderful how different we all are! I find so much beauty in diversity, in how different people can be, whether it's their body type, their skin, their hair, their facial features or other qualities. I'd find it so boring if everyone looked a certain way and there was no variation whatsoever.

I only think someone's ugly when I find their personality and behavior ugly, but maybe it's just that I don't understand a lot of social expectations because of my autism, or maybe it's because I'm in the ace spectrum.

Yeah, I might not feel attracted to certain people, I still have a type, but that doesn't mean I won't appreciate the beauty of someone who's not my type, despite not feeling attracted to them.

I never wanted to look a certain way because that's what other people would find more attractive.

I've been bullied for having freckles, countless people have insisted over and over again that I would look better with straight hair and that they want to see how it'd look like ironed out, I've been told my body hair's disgusting and I should get rid of it, that I should eat more cause I look like a skeleton, that my head would look too small if I cut my hair short, people would constantly compliment my sister's eyes because they're blue while ignoring my brown eyes, I've been told that gingers are bad luck/a jinx, like a black cat, I've been told I would look uglier if I transitioned, because men are uglier than women, apparently, amongst other things. But it never made me stop liking those things about me, it just frustrated me how other people would pester me about it constantly and try to make me feel bad about things that I like about myself.

I think all my insecurities when it comes to my appearance and the way I present myself have to do with gender dysphoria. I've always found my breasts annoying and cumbersome, like a burden, because I can't wear a lot of what I want without having to find a way to flatten them cause they'd make me look like a woman, I don't like my hips being so wide because they give me this hourglass shape, I don't like my stretch marks or cellulite cause I relate it to femininity, or my period for the same reason and also because it's painful, a hassle and makes my body weak and tired, and I feel the need to lose weight because I want to get rid of those things.

I used to find my voice high pitched and irritating despite other people finding it low and pretty, and now that it's actually irritating to other people because it cracks constantly I fucking love it and I even crack my voice on purpose to laugh at other people getting annoyed by it.

That's also why, unlike other trans guys, I don't have height dysphoria either, despite being 162cm(5'3") tall, because there's lots of cis men who are really short and cis women who are really tall and they're all super cool and trans people are really cool too no matter their height. It's just annoying when I can't reach something that's too high up and I have to ask for help or get a stool or a chair to get it but it doesn't affect me on my day to day life all that much tbh, so I never really pay much attention to it.

I just don't like it when people call me short king, or king in general. Idk why it feels patronizing to me in particular. It's not that there's anything wrong with the frase, it just feels personally icky to be called that for me. I think it's because a lot of people tend to infantilize me, and being called short king just feels like another form of that in the contexts I've been called that. Like they feel sorry for me being short so they have to give me a cute nickname to make me feel better about it, like some king of consolation prize. They don't call tall men tall kings or something like that.

I never wanted to look like someone else, just a male version of myself. Whenever I felt like someone gave me gender envy, it was because they look like me but with a masculine body, the way I would look like if I was amab, or finished with my transition. Because then I'd truly feel like myself. Because I'm not a woman, I'm a man, and I want my body to represent that.

So I never straightened my hair and I always make sure it's extra fluffy and curly, I cut my hair whatever length I want and style it however I think looks the coolest at the time, I let my body hair grow and never shave it, I enjoy the sun against my skin and just wear sunscreen so I don't get burnt, I started taking testosterone, and I might get top surgery no matter if people think my breasts are already really small or that I should like them because people find boobs attractive, because that's what makes me feel more comfortable with myself.

I eat as little as I can because it makes me look less curvy, therefore more masculine, and because it's a coping mechanism and an eating disorder, something that's a literal metal illness and an addiction. Something I'm just relying on for support now that my life's so complicated, until I'm in a better place and can finally start working on recovery.

And I'm just so very happy that my body's finally looking, feeling and sounding the way it makes me the most comfortable, the way it's supposed to be: not because that's what others expect it to be, or what other people would find more attractive, but because it's finally starting to feel mine. I feel like myself when I see these changes, not like some random stranger in the mirror I can't connect with, some hollow doll body my mind happens to control, something I can hurt and neglect because it's nothing more than an object I happen to be trapped in, like a genie in a lamp.

That's why I always get so irritated when other people compare my transition and gender affirming healthcare in general to other cosmetic surgeries, because it's not like we're trying to escape who we are, or make our lives easier to become someone else, or look a certain way because that's what society expects of us, it's literally the opposite, it's us wanting our bodies to reflect who we truly are on the inside. And it offends me how people will convolute such different things on purpose just to make our lives harder.

Idk, I just wanted to rant about all of these feelings I've been having lately, both positive and negative, and how sad I think society putting so much weight on something that defines so little about someone's inner self as their appearance is, and how I don't understand how some people can just let themselves be guided by something so unimportant, how they can just let something so insignificant define so much of their lives and their relationships.

[bradshawsbitch]

power | bradley bradshaw x f!oc

disclaimer: I'm from Sweden, and until recently we've been neutral since forever - hence, I have no fucking idea wth I'm doing when it comes to military shit, so if anything's not right well... don't tell me and just enjoy the banter lmao (also I was born during the years when compulsory military service wasn't a thing here. I'm old.)

summary: Ruth, a member of the squad, is getting real tired of the level of testosterone coming from some people in the squad, and unfortunately she's not afraid to voice her concerns. Rooster can't help that he thinks that's kind of hot.

warnings: some swearing, bad ass bitchery, just a smidge of hangman-slander (just until he drops his attitude lmao sorry babes). no beta we die like women.

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The searing sun beat down on the t-shirt clad back of Ruth, her dark brown hair not helping in dispelling the heat. A stray hair had fallen down from her tight bun, and it was further fueling her irritation as she mustered up her 88th pushup of the day with a small grunt spilling from her parted lips. Beside her, Rooster couldn't help but smile slightly. The two of them had been in the air, and seeing as Rooster had saved her ass up there - she felt it was only right that she did at least a 100 pushups in solidarity for his help.

Ruth was nothing if not honest, and could easily and readily admit to when she was in the wrong. Rooster had found he liked that about her. He even enjoyed the times she chewed his ass out when he'd done something foolish. They'd known each other for quite some time now, and Rooster had learnt the hard way that Ruth wasn't really someone you wanted to mess with. Ruth stood at a solid 5'8'', which might not be that impressive compared to his own height, but with her broader set of shoulders, and her head held high - she could be intimidating when she wanted to.

Ever since she was young, she'd been somewhat of a firecracker - never backing down from a fight. And if there was one thing she loathed above all else; being treated as if she was a lesser being, or somehow weaker, for being a woman. She knew that her choice of profession didn't exactly help her in that regard, but Ruth was never one to back down from a challenge. She had a lot of things working against her, alongside archaic men questioning her every move, the patriarchy and her womanly shapes. If she heard another word about her wide hips and hourglass shape were 'perfect for child-bearing' she might actually explode.

Even her name was unfortunate. Ruth. Who the hell named a girl born in the late 80's Ruth? During her time in the academy, her call-sign had been assigned with vehement protests from her, but had fallen on deaf ears. "Babe". Really? She didn't even like baseball all that much, but of course - some smart-ass called out "Babe Ruth!" and that was it. It stuck.

Finishing her 100th pushup she let out a small sigh, sitting down on the warm cement of the tarmac.

"Thanks for saving my ass up there, Roos," she smiled softly at the tall man still finishing up his round of his 'punishment'. If anyone asked her, she'd never admit she had a huge soft spot for the man who was glistening with sweat in the sun before her.

"Anytime, Babe. I'd do it again in a heartbeat," there was no trace of sarcasm or teasing in his voice. Not even a tendency to suggestiveness when he uttered her callsign. Something she greatly appreciated. Standing up, she gave his shoulder blade a soft pat before heading towards the showers to freshen up.

On her way, she spotted her nemesis. Bagman. Please let him keep his big mouth shut just this once. Her patience was already non-existent, beating herself up for her mistake in the air. Fortunately for her, Phoenix spotted her sour face, and hurried to keep him occupied with some light banter about something else. Ruth shot Nat a look of gratefulness before slipping in to the showers.

Ruth let the cool water hit her with a heaving sigh, her shoulders shuddering slightly at the soothing feeling the water offered her. Her eyelids fluttering close as she gingerly let her forehead rest against the cool tiles. Her mind was still spinning a hundred miles an hour, but with another calming breath she managed to sooth herself silently as the echo of the water bounced off the walls. Unwillingly, her thoughts lingered on Roosters form, and she shook her head to rid herself of the sight of his shoulders and biceps flexing in the sunlight.

The two of them had been in each others lives for a while now, learning together. She'd always appreciated him for his respect towards her and her abilities as both an aviator and as a person. They got along great, and she considered him one of her closest friends. She'd never admit to anyone out loud that she'd love to be more. It didn't really fit in to her badass, don't-need-anyone-let-alone-a-man type of energy that she had built for herself to swoon and want to be held and loved by Rooster.

Cutting off the stream, she shook the water and thoughts out of her head as her dark locks swirled around her face. She knew tomorrow would be difficult for her. She'd be paired with Hangman, and up until now she'd managed to be civil towards him. But her nerves were sometimes on the outside of her body, and she knew that no amount of yoga or mindfulness could help her when she was up in the air.

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The next day, Bob approached her silently, giving her a look that said 'please don't kill Hangman before Mav can', and she couldn't help the small smile playing on her lips as she got ready to get in her plane.

"Now, Babe - leave the big man to me, alright?" Hangman laughed, knowing he'd be pushing her buttons. His voice when he said 'babe' annoyed her to no end, he made it sound like an endearment.

"Fuck off, Bagman" she muttered to herself, making Bob chuckle silently as well.

Well up in the air, Ruth felt at ease. Communicating with Bob with ease, even managing to take the comments of Hangman that weren't aviator-related. She was proud of herself. That is until Mav turned up out of nowhere and her calls of 'break right!' were ignored by Hangman, leaving her vulnerable and in the end she got 'shot down'.

"Fucking hell!" she swore loudly, her temper rising as Hangman said some dumb shit over the comms.

"I'm fucking dead dumbass," she growled back, Bob smiling softly as he said "Here we go..."

Down on the ground Rooster cringed as he took in Ruths' tone of voice. He knew that Hangman was in for a Ruth-chew-out, something Jake hadn't experienced in earnest before. As much as he hated to defend Hangman, he couldn't let her do something she'd surely regret. So with a great sigh he started towards where he knew the pissed off pilot would land.

"Hey, Babe... Babe... Ruth, please don't--" Bob said as the dark haired woman aggressively went through the security check list once both planes had been landed and turned off. Ignoring him, Ruth ripped her helmet off before nimbly jumping down from the seat.

"Hangman!" Ruth yelled at the top of her lungs as he was spotted wearing a self-righteous smirk.

"You fucking listen to me when we're up there, you hear me?" the female pilot continued as she neared his form, brows knitted together and chest heaving from rage.

"Can't help you don't know what you're doing up there, Babe" he tantalised, his smirk growing bigger with each word. That's when Rooster hurried towards the two figures, his long legs soon nearing as he heard her scream in earnest now "Fuck," he muttered, speeding up further.

"Hold up, you did not just--" Ruth couldn't even finish her sentence, her eyes had gone a darker shade as she stepped up to Jake, her face inches from his, her finger roughly shoved in to his chest.

"Just 'cause you've got a tiny-ass pencil sharpener between your legs does not mean that you know better than I do, you fucking chauvinistic piece of shit-fuelled--" her sentence was cut off by Rooster wrapping an arm around her mid-section, trying to create some distance.

"You get your fucking hands off me, Lieutenant Bradshaw!" she almost whipped around to shove Bradley off of her, but knew she had to keep her focus on Jake, as to not let him slip away with the last word.

"Whoa, hey, Babe... Ruth, c'mon - it's just Bagman," Rooster tried, his voice soothing.

"It's not 'just Bagman'" you yelled, wanting to claw his damn eyes out. Because it wasn't. It was every man ever telling you what you could and could not do, could and could not like - it was hundreds of years of pent up rage coursing through her veins like venom.

"If you ignore me like that again up there, you fucking dickwad, I'll have you know that you're dead. You hear me Seresin? Dead! And if I die because of you I'll haunt your ass until the day you fucking die and then some!" Ruth knew she wasn't making sense, but indignant tears were burning in her eyes - curse her for getting teary when she was angry.

"I'm not going to take this lying down, and you know it," she seethed, her hair once again falling in front of her furious blue eyes. And for the first time, Jakes proud face fell slightly as he took in the emotion behind them. He'd never been known to apologize, but he could almost taste the 'I'm sorry' playing on his tongue.

"You'd better leave, Hangman," Rooster said quietly, his strong arm still holding you back from tearing Jake a new one. And for once, Jake agreed with Rooster and turned to walk away.

Hondo, who had been in the background through most of it, felt for the female pilot.

"Ruth... hey. Deep breaths," Rooster tried as your form relaxed slightly against his chest.

"Fucking asshole, I told him break right and--" Ruths' voice was hoarse from yelling and lacked the earlier fire behind them.

"I know, I know," Bradley continued softly, releasing the pressure from the slightly shorter pilots mid-section. Bob smiled softly at her and patted her arm "Hey, we did good up there in spite of Hangman, okay?" she nodded mutely, her burning eyes staring down at the ground.

"You don't have to do your 200--" Hondo started, seeing as it was not Babe's fault she got show down.

"Of course I do. I got shot." Ruth cut him off, wiping her eyes with her sleeve before getting down on the ground, Bob following suit. Rooster looked at her for a second, his honey eyes soft. She sure was a firecracker, and he couldn't help but love it.

"What're you doing, Brad?" Ruth muttered as she saw his form beside her.

"So I'm Brad again, am I?" he teased light-heartedly, knowing she wouldn't chew him out. Ruth blushed at the thought that she'd 'titled' him earlier.

"Yeah, if you behave," she smirked.

"I felt like doing 200 pushups." he grinned, answering her previous question. Ruth couldn't help the laugh that spilled from her lips, a sound Rooster felt pride (mixed with a tug in his stomach that he didn't quite know what it was) surge through him that he had managed to drag out from her.

"Boys." Ruth rolled her eyes, before shooting Rooster a thankful smile, which only furthered that funny feeling in his stomach.

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Woo! I apologize for any mistakes, and spelling errors seeing as English isn't my first language. Hope you enjoyed this and that it wasn't too bad :) please let me know if you'd like any more of these two! <3