#why am i even bothering introducing denim when ace would do so already

[gallifreyanhotfive]

I need to introduce denim to the High Council of Gallifrey. Give me the Jeans of Rassilon. The Jorts of Rassilon even. I want to see all those Time Lords wearing their jobes and their big Gallifreyan jollars.

[deakyjohns]

Friends Will Be Friends - Ace!Reader x Queen

Based off the following prompt: Hello I’m sorry to bother you but could you please write a Queen x asexual reader please? Where the reader slowly realizes she’s asexual then is scared to admit it to the boys?

Warnings: Not a ton! Reader is anxious about coming out, so there are potential triggers there. [word count: 2,265] 

pls note: i don’t identify as ace but i am queer, so i’ve done my best to express what? coming out can be like? but everyone’s experience is different. hopefully this does some justice to that notion! <3

You knew everyone meant well.

That when Freddie told you anyone would be lucky to have you, or when Roger jostled your shoulder, pointing out potential suitors, it was because they cared about you. They thought it was what you would want. You used to think it would be what you wanted, too.

You weren’t sure how to tell them. It had been difficult to even figure it out yourself. You always understood the feelings you had, but putting a name to them had been something else entirely. Through your teenage years, you’d begun to find slight differences between yourself and your classmates. When they got excited about dating and relationships, you found yourself more interested in the books you were reading and the music you liked. You cared about your friendships and loved meeting new people, but you never really liked the idea of dating.

You used to assume it just meant you hadn’t met the right person.

In a few attempts to give it the old college try, you had gone on dates. Once or twice you’d had nice conversations with people over dinner or a drink, but you didn’t feel yourself longing to see them again. A date that you hadn’t had a particularly good time with once tried to kiss you, and you’d pushed him away out of instinct. He’d mumbled an apology and a good night and you hardly answered before flying up the stairs back into your apartment.

You leaned against your door, letting out a long breath. Part of you wondered if you should have just tried it to see if you’d enjoy it. But the rest of you knew you wouldn’t have.

It frustrated you to no end that the world, everyone around you, really, expected you to be a certain way when you just weren’t.

You didn’t want to think there was something wrong with you, but you felt like you had to look for answers. What was it that made you different? Why, when people talked about marriage, sex, and dating, did you feel like you came from some other world?

As silly as it made you feel, you found yourself at the front desk of the nearby university’s library looking for answers. A kind-eyed and young librarian peered at you through her glasses.

“Can I help you find something?” she asked politely.

“Yes, actually. I’ve got to write a paper for my human sexuality class?” It was a bit of a shot in the dark, but you were fairly sure you could get away without too many questions.

“Oh, sure. Are you comfortable with the Dewey Decimal System? I’ve just got to log a lot of returns up here.”

“Yes, no problem!” You’d had to prowl the shelves in search of horrendously obscure books before.

“Great,” she said, relieved, “thank you. You’ll want to head down to the early 300s. It’s got sociology and all that. Try… maybe 301 or 306?”

“I will,” you said, “thank you. Good luck with all those.” You pointed to the hefty pile of books on the cart beside her and she let out a quiet chuckle.

“Thanks. Good luck with your paper.” It took you a second to remember: you’d told her you were writing a paper.

“Oh, yeah, thank you!” And with that, you shuffled off into the stacks.

It took a while before you found anything that resonated with you. But eventually, after paging through countless indexes and glossaries, you found something that resonated with you–– and deeply.

You left the library with a bit of a spring in your step, but also a sinking feeling in your stomach. It felt so good to understand yourself. But understanding yourself meant that you’d be able to tell people. And you had four dear friends that you feared might not understand you the way you did.

You’d met Brian and Roger right as Smile was falling apart. Roger had tried to chat you up at the bar and since he’d made you laugh, he thought he was getting somewhere. Right as you were about to politely decline anything beyond a friendly drink, Brian came over, distressed. He let loose that Tim Staffel was thinking of leaving before Rog could make a snide remark about being interrupted, and when you expressed your despair at the possibility of the band breaking up, they both seemed cheered. You’d greatly enjoyed the music, and told them so. The night had ended with the three of you closing down the bar and the boys walked you home (or stumbled you there, on Roger’s part). After concerts, they began to count on seeing you, and you were swiftly introduced to Freddie and later John. You came to their shows as often as you could and soon you were part of the family.

What had started as the boys inviting you to parties after gigs had blossomed into a real friendship–– one you could never imagine living without. Sometimes you’d spend time with them while they were recording, and they’d even brought you along on tour for a few weeks once. You’d shared an apartment with John for a stint when neither of you could afford rent alone, and there had been many nights when the five of you all woke up in someone’s apartment, tangled together on couches, in beds, sometimes on the floor. You’d taken shifts in Brian’s hospital room when he collapsed on their first tour of the US.

You’d been through so much with them, and there was no way they’d abandon you just because you were different. They were all different, too. It’s why people loved Queen.

Your best friend and current roommate Amy reassured you of this about a hundred times as you got ready to go see the boys at a recording session. She sat on your bed as you tugged on a t-shirt and dug around in your closet for your favorite jacket.

“Those boys adore you, Y/N. And if they’re going to stop speaking to you over something like this, then they don’t deserve to call you their friend.” You sighed, voice echoing a bit as you spoke.

“I know, I know… But if for some reason they do stop speaking to me, it’s gonna break my heart. Even if it’s not worth the pain, you know?” Finally, you felt your hand brush against denim and you pulled your coat of it’s hanger, slinging it on. Amy stood and put her hands on both of your cheeks.

“They’re not going to. I really believe that.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead and you let out a soft chuckle.

“Thanks, Ames. I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.” You smiled at her and took a breath. With that, you picked up your bag and headed for the door. Amy’s voice drifted down the hall as you made your way to the front door. “And you let me know if something happens. I don’t care if those guys are famous, I will start a brawl!”

You laughed at that despite the pit in your stomach and hopped in your car. It was now or never, you supposed.

----

When you arrived at the studio, they were recording a song you’d never heard before. It was fun and a bit jaunty, which eased your nerves a bit. Brian stood in the booth, playing a guitar solo, and Roger and John were sat on couches at the back of the control room. Freddie sat, enraptured at the panel as you crept in, not wanting to disturb anyone.

John was the first to look up and notice you, and just as he was about to stand and offer you a much calmer and quiet greeting, Roger was on his feet and already halfway to the door.

“Y/N,” he cried, “just who we needed to see! Do you know, it’s been bloody boring without you all day.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled you into a hug. Over his shoulder, Freddie glanced up at you and smiled, wiggling his fingers in greeting. Soon though, his attention was back to Brian, who was still laser-focused on his playing.

“It’s not as if I’m here all the time, Rog,” you protested, but he waved you off as the two of you separated.

“Well, we’ve been missing you anyway.” John nodded as he came over to greet you as well.

“It’s true, we were just talking about you,” he said, giving you a quick squeeze of a hug, “How are you, Y/N?”

“I’m all right. I’ve been wanting to talk to you all.” As you spoke, the sounds of the Red Special stopped.

“Hey there, Y/N,” came Brian’s voice over the speakers. “Good to see you! We’re just finishing up.” Freddie spun around and stood, planting a kiss on your cheek and grasping both of your hands in his.

“Yes, darling, do stay and have a chat. Brian here’s just finished his solo for Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy and we’re just about to have a spot of tea.” You grinned at the name of the song.

“One of yours, Fred?”

“Who else’s?” he replied with a dazzling smile, brushing his hair over his shoulder.

Once Brian emerged from the studio, the boys led you off to a little kitchen where Freddie put on a kettle.

“We’ve missed you,” Brian said, plopping down in a chair beside you, “How is everything?”

“It’s, er–– Well, it’s been good.”

“You said you wanted to tell us something?” John added helpfully. He always seemed to know when you were nervous, and you shot him a grateful smile. The kettle began to whistle and Freddie lifted it off the stove.

“Yes, I did,” you said, voice quieting a bit. Freddie passed mugs around and took a seat on your other side–– finally all eyes were on you. This wasn’t going to be easy, you knew that, but now with all of their gazes fixed on you with varying degrees of kindness and concern, you felt a little safer.

You cleared your throat in an attempt to push down the lingering anxiety. “Well, uhm… You all know that I don’t really… well, date. And, ah… I was doing some reading because I was feeling frustrated with everything and I…” You paused and took a deep breath. “I think I’m asexual.”

Time seemed to stop after you said it. It was still one of the first times you’d said it aloud, and your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you were sure you wouldn’t be able to hear their reactions. All of a sudden panic took over and you felt the need to speak again, as if you owed them an explanation. “I think I’ve known for a while now, but I never really had a name for it and then I went to the library and I started reading all these books and––”

A warm hand came to cover yours as it quivered on the tabletop and it was only then that you realized you’d begun to cry a bit. You looked up and Brian was smiling at you softly.

“That’s great, Y/N. I’m sure I speak for everybody when I say we’re happy that you’ve found a way to describe who you are.” He gave your hand a squeeze. “You know we all love you, and we’ll all be here to support you.” The other three boys gave you encouraging smiles and you nodded, reaching up to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“I’ve just always felt different, and finally it just got too much. I was so scared.”

“Aw lovie,” Freddie cooed, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “why didn’t you tell us? You know we all would have been happy to help.”

“Well,” John ventured, “I’m sure it was a bit nerve-wracking. Not everyone is kind about these kinds of things. But nothing is going to change the fact that you’re our friend, Y/N. You’ve got us, no matter what.”

“It’s true,” Roger said, “we’d all go mad without you. And besides, if you’re asexual, that means there’s just more for the rest of us, eh?” Freddie shot him a long-suffering look from beside you, but the comment made you laugh as Roger knew it would. As you let yourself laugh, you felt some of the anxiety draining out of you.

“Oh god,” you said, “I’m so relieved. I was afraid that you’d all never want to speak to me again.”

“Nonsense!” Freddie cried, “you’d have to really do something terrible for that to happen, and I happen to know you haven’t got a mean bone in your body.” He paused for a moment and then smiled, standing up and gesturing for everyone to rise with him. “I propose a toast,” he announced, lifting his cup of tea in the air. “To our darling Y/N, whom we all love so dearly, and whom we celebrate on this day of discovery.” Everyone laughed at this, and Roger added in a cheerful “Hear, hear!” as you all clinked your mugs together.

You all drank your tea and spent the next little while catching up and laughing, just as you always did when you spent time together. When it came time for the boys to begin recording again and for you to head home, everyone joined in a group hug, placing you at the center. Standing there, literally surrounded by some of your closest friends, you knew you’d always have people in your life who loved you for who you were.