ok i saw a really sad mtf!rose prompt on the kink meme and i have been thinking about mtf!rose a lot lately AND i just remembered that really sweet fan theory that the kids’ dreamselves would reflect their true gender so
here’s a little drabble i wrote off the cuff just now
The minute Rose wakes up she can feel that something is different. Everything around her is maddeningly purple and her clothes are soft and velvet and something feels strangely familiar about the room she’s in, as if she’s always been meant to be there. Dazed and still groggy, she sits up and slides out of her bed, padding across the room and feeling strangely light, much more so than usual—
She looks down at herself and almost falls down in shock because instead of pointed bird-bones sticking out everywhere there’s just softened edges, a slight outward curve where there had been a flat chest, hips flaring out slightly where they had turned in. It is not over-feminine or idealized but it’s perfect and everything she wished for in those quiet moments where she wasn’t repeating to herself over and over that it was ok, maybe one day she would have a body she could live with one day, even if it wasn’t everything she wanted. But here it was, she was in it, and for the first time everything in the world feels absolutely right.
She takes one step, then another, her mind clearing, everything meshing together. She feels the other Rose’s thoughts seeping in and feels a dull ache in her chest. She doesn’t have to speculate why she had spent so much time asleep in the other timeline. She’s never known what it would feel like to get exactly what she wanted, and she’s reluctant to leave. The worst part, she thinks, is how terribly solid it is; she’s fantasized and dreamed so many times about what it would feel like to finally be right, be whole, but nothing compares to the reality of it. But she knows that her real body (as false as it feels when she’s in it) is still out there, still the place where she’ll have to return.
Later, when she wakes up (all jammed out, thanks to Dave) she feels very little inclination to get up. Everything feels stiff and heavy again, so much like every other day she’s gotten out of bed to find that the angles are too sharp and the joints don’t fit together just right. She sighs and it rattles in her chest, down to her bones. She wants to close her eyes and drift back into being herself (as she should be), but she gets up and stretches, working the kinks out of her (too broad) shoulders and her (too narrow) hips before running off to find John.
Dreams will come later, and right now she has a job to do.