AN: This is just the first two for Jim - Jane - featuring Space wives and body love.

Why I am writing this: I have seen several genderbends and am slightly unsatisfied with how the characters are portrayed. In fanart I notice that there is little diversity in body shape - I personally think Jim would be curvaceous and Spock would be just as lean and figure-less. I do not want to put anyone down for their art as it is still very good and interesting (I do not have half the talent as the artists) but this is solely for me to spread my opinion and headcanons to other people.

Busty Girl Problems (feat. fem!Spock)

Jane sighed in frustration as she picked at the tatters of her shirt, barely clinging to her shoulders. Spock raised an eyebrow as she observed her captain, dirty and panting, making her way across the sandy field.

"This was a nice fitting shirt," Jane said when she met Spock. "Do you know my trouble with getting uniform shirts that fit me? They always stretch awkwardly over my boobs. I don't have trouble with the dresses. Just the shirts."

Spock remained staring, unimpressed. Jane sighed.

"Sometimes I wish I wore an A cup like you. It must be convenient," she said.

"Indeed. Smaller breast size would be more beneficial to a captain that participates in brawls and is an active member of away teams. However, just last week you were stating your fondness of your body."

Jane smirked. "Why Commander, I believe you were stating the same minutes later."

Spock straightened, placing her arms behind her back and staring at Jane with both eyebrows raised now. "Really, sir."

Jane laughed, shaking her head. "Ready to beam up?"

Spock flipped open her communicator. "Two to beam up, Mr. Scott."

Hair

Jane held a dozen pins in her mouth, trying to grab a stubborn lock of hair. She grunted as she caught hold of the hair, frizzy and curly, and pulled a pin from her lips. Carefully, she slid it into her hair. With a smirk, she felt her neck, checking for more fallen hair only to find that the same lock had not all been pinned down and had returned to its initial location. Jane smacked the top of her vanity dresser.

Spock stepped through the bathroom door, half of his uniform on and his hair wet. His insufferable bangs were clumped together but when dried would be as straight and flawless as ever. They would spread out evenly against his forehead and not a single hair would be out of place. Just like everyday. All without Spock even trying.

"Jane, why are you glaring at me?" he asked, pulling a shirt out of the closet.

Jane let the pins fall out of her mouth. Some landed on the dresser while some bounced off and fell into her lap. She didn't care, though, and turned to Spock.

"Help me with my hair," she ordered.

"I lack experience and skill as a hairdresser," he said but was already making his way to Jane.

"Just hold this." Jane grabbed a hairpin and held it up. "Make sure none falls down."

"You were not exaggerating when you said you are not a 'morning person'. All though I am still unsure of the meaning of the phrase."

"Don't make me order you, Mr. Spock."

Spock raised an eyebrow and took the pin. He gently slid it into her hair, capturing the light brown lock in its rightful place.

"Thank you," Jane said, cleaning up the pins on her lap and standing up, walking to the bed.

Spock remained at the dresser. He watched with well-hidden endearment as Jim pulled her right boot on, stretching her leg out to get it on all the way and allowing Spock a glimpse up her skirt. She pulled her leg up on the bed and hugged it, resting her head on her knee and closing her eyes.

Her skirt rode up her thighs, revealing the imperfections of stretch marks and cellulite. The effects of having extra weight and just being a human; the little flaws that Spock showed love with his lips and fingers, tracing them during silent nights where Jane and Spock were the only ones in the universe. The nights where the stars shone only for the two of them, where the planets revolved around them, and where Jane had felt more than loved. Spock had a weakness of showing his affection to every inch of Jane's body and cherishing every mark on her body that she had tried hiding or ignoring or getting rid of before she had Spock to whisper how perfect she was in the dead of night.

"Get a good enough look?" Jane whispered. Her eyelashes, already painted with makeup, remained against her skin.

Never, Spock thought to himself.