A Portrait Worth a Thousand Words (Bruce Wayne x Reader)
aka My Sad Attempt at Fluff for Bruce
The portrait wasn’t the
original – that one had been one of
the many things lost in the fire that claimed Wayne Manor. No, this one was actually a copy that had once
hung for many years at Wayne Tower in downtown Gotham. Of course, Bruce made
sure that it had been replaced with a duplicate he’d commissioned, earning
admiration from many who saw it as the act of a loving, successful son who was
determined to always keep another legacy of his parents nearby.
It therefore puzzled you
that he didn’t keep it aboveground in the Glass House but, instead, subterranean
in the Batcave. It became even more perplexing when you realized that it was
placed in a hallway that Bruce seemed to rarely walk down, quite possibly even
finding alternate options to the route if he could. Most people would have a
painting of their long-deceased parents somewhere in a common area or even
private one; just somewhere where they could always see them and smile at them,
maybe even hold a conversation. Then again, Bruce was not most people, being a
tall, stupid-rich, former-playboy who moonlighted as knuckle-baring vigilante
in a bat suit.
AU where Alexander and John Laurens are dating, and Thomas Jefferson finds himself envious of John.
Send me a prompt if you want me to write something for you! If you use a prompt just specify old list or new list.
Thomas Jefferson held these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal, and Alexander Hamilton could not possibly be any more annoying.
At least, he thought the second one was true until he met John Laurens. As bad as Hamilton was, he was somehow even worse when he was around his dumb boyfriend.
They were practically the same person; they were both reckless, loud, and scrappy, and they always egged each other on, daring each other to do, in Thomas’s mind, the most annoying things they could think of. The only difference between them was that while Hamilton made Thomas’s stomach flutter with annoyance, Laurens made his gut twist with something closely resembling hatred.
The worst was when Hamilton brought Laurens along to debate club after school. He would sit on the sidelines, make unneeded comments, and let out whoops and cheers whenever Hamilton made a good point. Thomas hated it. He was supposed to have Hamilton’s undivided attention during debate, and Laurens just distracted everyone.
“Does he really need to be here?” Thomas asked one day upon seeing Laurens trail in behind Hamilton. “He’s not even in this club.”
“Mr. Jefferson,” Mr. Washington, the club advisor, warned. He was also Hamilton’s adoptive father, which, if you asked Thomas, was completely unfair.
“What?” Thomas said. “He’s a distraction.”
Hamilton and Laurens both scoffed and Thomas resisted the urge to punch one or both of them.
“I’m serious!” Thomas defended himself. “Hamilton never focuses on the debate when Laurens is here.”
“Aww are you jealous, Jefferson?” Laurens asked, leaning back cockily in his chair.
“Shut up,” Thomas spat.
“Mr. Jefferson, please!” Washington pointed firmly for Thomas to take a seat.
Thomas sulkily dropped into a seat next to James Madison and glared at the back of Laurens’s head. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t.
Apparently Thomas’s punishment for lashing out at Laurens was to not be included in any debates, which meant he would be sitting and doing nothing the whole meeting.
As Hamilton stood to debate James on abortion—Thomas had been looking forward to debating that with him, and now he wasn’t allowed—Thomas began to mull over Laurens’s statement.
The freckled boy probably hadn’t really meant anything by it. He was just trying to get under Thomas’s skin, to make him mad. So why was it starting to feel like another truth in Thomas’s life?
Thomas froze as he had this thought. He was jealous of John Laurens.
And who wouldn’t be? Who wouldn’t give anything to be the uninterrupted focus of someone as spectacular as Alexander Hamilton? Who wouldn’t envy the deep and intellectual conversations one could have with him? And who wouldn’t die to look into this beautiful eyes and say “This one’s mine?”
In the next months Thomas tried to convince himself that it was just a stupid crush. He didn’t even mention it to James; he was sure he’d get over it soon.
But as the months went on Hamilton and Laurens got more serious and the twist in Thomas’s gut grew bigger.
He was hopelessly in love with Alexander Hamilton.
It was hard. Hamilton was still under the impression that they were enemies, and Thomas had to resist the urge to respond to insults with pet names, to respond to every “I hate you” with “I love you.”
They would glare at each other across the lunch room, and then when Hamilton turned around Thomas’s gaze would soften into one of longing because Hamilton’s eyes were so pretty when he was angry about something.
One day after one such glaring match, Thomas was approached by Angelica Schuyler, much to his surprise.
“Come with me,” she said, tugging on Thomas’s arm.
Thomas shot James a confused glance, then stood up and followed the eldest Schuyler sister. She led him to an empty classroom in the biology wing, where he found Angelica’s sisters Eliza and Peggy, and Maria Reynolds waiting for them.
“What is this?” he asked, stalling at the doorway.
“This is the Helplessly Pining Over Alexander Hamilton Club,” Angelica sighed.
Thomas stared at her in bewilderment, then launched into a stuttered denial.
“Why—I’m not—I don't—”
“We’ve seen the way you look at him, Thomas,” Eliza said. “It’s the same way all of us do.”
“Well, except Peggy,” Maria added. “She’s just here to remind us not to get our hopes up.”
Peggy flashed him a grin and two thumbs up.
Thomas deflated in relent. “This sounds dismal.”
“It is,” Angelica said. “That’s the price of catching feelings for Alex. But we get through it together.”
Thomas slumped into a seat next to Maria. “How?”
“Mostly by keeping ourselves busy with other things,” Maria said, “and then venting all our frustration at these meetings.”
Thomas sighed. “So you don’t do anything about it? You just sit here and suffer?”
“Alex is with John, Thomas,” Eliza said. “He’s happy. We can’t mess with that.”
“Thomas,” Angelica said sternly. “We’ve all been down this path. It’s a dead end. We can’t meddle with Alex’s love life.”
“Fine,” Thomas huffed. “But let’s just say, hypothetically, Hamilton and Laurens broke up. What would you do then?”
“Then we would give him his space to get over it,” Eliza said, a tone of warning in her voice.
“Okay,” Thomas said, irritated that they weren’t catching his drift. “And after he’s gotten over it?”
“Then it’s up to him who he dates next, if he dates anyone,” Maria said. “And we’re not to influence his choice in any way.”
Hamilton and Laurens broke up a month later. A large and very public fight led to them realizing that they were just too similar to date, and they went back to being friends, although there was definitely more tension between them than before.
The weeks following the break up were possibly even harder for Thomas than the months of dating had been. The thought of Hamilton being right there in front of him, available, was torturous. He had promised the rest of the Helplessly Pining Over Alexander Hamilton Club that he wouldn’t act on his feelings, but that was becoming harder by the day. Especially since he still wasn’t getting Hamilton’s full attention in debate.
Hamilton had become sullen and spent over half of debate brooding. All of Thomas’s points were met with half-hearted rebuttals and his insults were rewarded only with weak, distracted comebacks.
“Hamilton, if you’re not going to focus on this debate than there are many others more qualified and worthy of my time.” That was a lie, but he wanted to get Hamilton riled up. He wanted his attention.
“I am focused,” Hamilton snapped.
“Then one would think you could make a decent point once in a while,” Thomas retorted.
“God, you’re so annoying,” Hamilton breathed, rolling his eyes at Thomas.
“At least I can argue a point.”
“I hate you.”
“Well I love you!”
The whole room fell deathly silent. Hamilton stared at Thomas, jaw hanging open.
“Shit,” Thomas whispered.
“What did you say?” Hamilton asked quietly.
Thomas crossed his arms defensively. There was no going back now. “You heard me.”
“Y-you love me?”
Well, he finally had Hamilton’s full attention; he might as well make use of it.
“Yes, I love you, okay? I love your voice and your face and your eyes your horrible fashion sense. I love how funny and intelligent and passionate you are. And I know you just broke up with Laurens and this a really dick move on my part, but I love you, Alexander Hamilton.”
Hamilton, for once, was at a total loss for words. Mr. Washington was the one to break the silence, clearing his throat.
“Mr. Jefferson, as touching as this is, I highly doubt that this is the appropriate time.”
Hamilton’s face went bright red, and a wave of panic swept over Thomas. He had just confessed his love for his nemesis, in front of the kid’s dad. Suddenly breathing was difficult.
“I-I need to go,” he stammered, then turned on his heels and darted out of the classroom. He didn’t stop running until he found an empty, secluded hallway and slid down to the floor with his back against the wall. He put his head in his hands and groaned. “I’m such a screw-up,” he muttered.
“Well, yeah, but that’s okay.”
Thomas nearly jumped out of his skin. In his panic he hadn’t thought that Hamilton might follow him. Just another in a long line of mistakes.
“Please go away,” Thomas said.
Hamilton sat down next to him. “What? I thought you looooved me.”
Thomas looked away, biting back tears. Of course Hamilton would make fun of him for it. Why wouldn’t he? It was stupid.
“Look, please just forget I ever said anything. I never should have spoken. I’m sorry.”
Hamilton placed a hand on Thomas’s arm. “You shouldn’t be,” he said, more gentle this time. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you. I’m glad you told me, Thomas.”
Thomas looked back at him, furrowing his brow. “You are?”
Hamilton nodded. “Yeah. I never hated you, you know. All those times I said it… I didn’t mean it any more than you did.”
“I’m surprised you don’t hate me after what just happened. You have every right to.”
Now it was Hamilton’s turn to look confused. “Why would I hate you?”
Thomas gave a sarcastic laugh. “Well, let’s see. I only confessed my unrequited love for you in front of everyone we know, including your father. Thanks for not turning me down in front of everyone, by the way. I guess I was saved that little bit of embarrassment.”
“Thomas… I wasn’t going to turn you down.”
Hamilton chewed at his lip nervously. “At least, not completely. I can’t… I can’t say that I love you too. Not yet. I loved John. I really did. And I’m still not over him at all. I’m definitely not ready for another relationship. But, maybe when I am…maybe then we can see what happens.”
Hamilton’s lips quirked up in a small but reassuring smile. “Really.”
It took all throughout the summer and half of the next school year for Alexander to be ready. During that time, he and Thomas had become very good friends. Thomas had practically been alienated from the Helplessly Pining Over Alexander Hamilton Club after they learned what he had done, but he didn’t care. He was in a better position than all of them.
Alexander didn’t exactly tell Thomas that he was ready to date. It was after debate club one day, and Thomas was walking Alexander home. Alexander was rambling, as he often did, and Thomas was pretending to listen, as he often did. He was vaguely aware that the topic had something to do with a book he had been reading.
“So anyways,” Alexander said, drawing his rant to a conclusion and startling Thomas back to attention, “I’ve come to a decision.”
And then he stood on his tiptoes and kissed Thomas.
“Woah,” Thomas breathed once they broke apart. “So you’re ready then?”
Daft Punk’s repetitive lyrics have earned them universal acclaim. Director Pedro Almodovar has said, “Around the ninety-fifth time they said "Robot Rock”, it clicked with me that this was a song about robots that rocked. Such a simplicity of message is something all artists should strive for.“
Daft Punk’s "Around The World”, has some pretty interesting content as well, the words “around the world” are repeated around 74 times.
That is the whole song.
But it might indeed have a deeper meaning. This has raised questions like “Are they going clockwise or anticlockwise around the world”? These questions are yet to be answered by the legendary French DJ’s.