he’s the adult supervision, he’s the voice of reason, he’s a cringefail king, it’s Captain Haddock! Quite a few people asked for a timeline post for Haddock after I posted one of Tintin.
I found the whole idea of the Haddock family curse to be very interesting, and the implications behind it to be pretty dark... cw for alcoholism and childhood abuse. Let me know if you need anything tagged.
To figure out the timeline the evidence for Haddock’s age I found was in an animated adaptation of Explorers on the Moon where Haddock mentions he has around forty years of sailing experience. I doubt he was running around on ships as a newborn so that places his age during the canon comics at around 60ish, give or take a few years, which in my timeline places his childhood during the late Victorian era!
Left to right, top to bottom:
Child - Archibald Haddock had a pretty rough childhood and family life. The legacy of the “Haddock family curse” weighs heavily on him, and so does the alcoholism that runs generationally. His father is often drunk, taking his anger and frustration out on Archibald. Fully believing the family curse, Archibald’s father drills the idea that he is destined for failure into his head.
Archibald’s only respite is his grandfather, who tells him stories of Sir Francis Haddock and other tall tales from the sea. His grandfather also would take him out on fishing trips, the lochs and the sea being his refuge.
Teenager - It’s the 1880s and Archibald is left aimless after his grandfather passes away, passing the time by hiding from his father and drinking during the day. He fully believes he has no real future and lets himself get swept up by whatever will come along next.
Young Adult - Archibald decides to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and becomes a sailor, feeling at home at sea. He cleans up somewhat after befriending George Chester as the two train on the same merchant vessel. Chester drags a reluctant Archibald along into all kinds of crazy antics, with Archibald wanting to stay on the straight and narrow.
Archibald is drafted during the First World War, serving in the Grand Fleet. He is stationed at the Orkney and Shetland Islands with Chester.
Canon - After the war Archibald relapses on his addiction again, but is able to hold onto work in the merchant fleet. He eventually becomes a captain of a merchant vessel where his mental health issues are taken advantage of in the Crab with the Golden Claws.
Seeing his crew mutiny, kidnap (and attempt to murder) a boy on his ship was a major wake up call - Haddock is now imbued with a sense of responsibility for Tintin (even if Tintin seems to handle things better than Haddock!). He doesn’t understand what Tintin sees in him but he’ll be damned if he proves him wrong. He’s not above calling him an idiot when the time is right though.
Post Canon - After Tintin loses his job Haddock does his best to support him. He uses his wealth to further causes he believes in, donating money to artist collectives and scientific research that was repressed by fascist governments. Before Belgium even joins the Second World War he and the Marlinspike team proactively go out and foil various Nazi plots. Marlinspike Hall is firebombed by the Nazis in retaliation, but after the war Haddock funds various housing cooperative projects. Coming from a working class background he hasn’t forgotten the hardships a lot of people face.
Elderly - At this point Haddock is secure in his found family. He’s been living with his partner Ramo Nash, and has taken up various arts and crafts as hobbies. Looking back, he never expected to be a father, but is incredibly proud of Tintin. He never officially adopts him as a part of him still fears the family curse (plus they both agree “Haddock” as a name definitely does not suit Tintin)!
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kiss me more - jhs
pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female reader
précis - based on this
content/warnings - mentions of alcohol, mentions of being drunk, mentions of a hangover, fluff,
word count - 671
You're always excited to see Jake when the two of you have been apart.
But add the margaritas you've consumed during girl's night and the fact that you haven't seen him all day or evening, and your excitement is increased by a tenfold.
Tamara's husband is the one taking you all home tonight, not that that stopped Jake from offering--multiple times.
Unbeknownst to you, Jake's been preparing for your arrival all night. Your pajamas are folded nicely on your side of the bed, water bottle full of ice and water, and a bottle of Aspirin sitting on your nightstand.
He likes doing things to take care of you, but he also misses you. Ever since the two of you moved in together, the long days at work feel ever longer, and the nights you don't spend together last an eternity.
When the car stops, you're pushing at your seatbelt and yanking at the door handle before anyone can get out to help you.
"I'm fine!" You whine, when you feel a hand around your waist.
"Hush." Natasha laughs, dragging you up the lawn. "Let's get you safely inside so you can see lover boy."
You cheer, speeding up the last few steps to the door, almost causing Natasha to trip.
"Easy tiger," She chuckles. The second the door opens, you're flinging your body through the threshold and onto Jake.
"Jake!" You coo against his neck. One hand gently rests against the back of your head, the other one on your lower back, pulling you closer.
"Hi baby doll," He presses a kiss to your forehead. You're squirming in his grasp, trying to get closer.
He meets Natasha's eye over your shoulder, giving her a knowing look.
"Thanks Tash." He smiles. "I'll see you on Monday."
Once she leaves, Jake locks the door before gathering you into his arms.
"C'mere baby, you wanna go upstairs?"
"You nod against his neck."
"I've got your stuff upstairs and some snacks too."
"Thank you, Jakey."
He sits you down carefully on the bed before crouching down to take off your shoes.
When he sits up, you're on him again, arms slung around his neck.
"Thank you, thank you." You coo, peppering his face and neck with kisses.
"You're so cute!" You whine, smacking your lips to his cheekbone. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you too, baby." He smiles, seemingly unaware to all the lipstick you're stamping onto his skin.
In typical hangover fashion, you awake to a pounding head and uneasy stomach.
You're groaning loudly, loud enough to wake Jake if he wasn't already up. He'd already gotten up, showered, and went out to your favorite coffee shop to grab drinks.
"How ya feelin' champ?" You can hear the amusement in his voice and you frown.
"Not good."
He chuckles. “Yeah I figured.” He sets your coffee and a brown paper bag on your nightstand, right behind the bottle of pain-killers.
“Thank you.” You say pathetically.
“You’re cute when you’re drunk, ya know that?” He wonders, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “And when you’re hungover…and sober.”
“Stop!” You whine. “You’re not allowed to be this cute when I feel like shit.”
“Sorry darlin'.”
You crack an eye open to look at him, before making grabby hands at him. He carefully slides on top of you, the pressure of his body warm and comforting on yours.
You’re fussing with his face and hair, when you notice a smear of red lipstick on his neck.
“What’s that?” You wonder, thumbing at the stain.
His face blooms almost as red as the shade swatched on his neck. “Shoot, I must’ve missed a spot.”
“From what?”
“Why don’t you get your phone, sweet girl?” He runs a hand over the back of your head.
Brows furrowing, you open your phone, clicking on your most recently used app.
A plethora of selfies fills your screen, your lips pouted, face squished against Jake’s, who has red lipstick marks all over his skin.
“Whoops.”
© witchwyfe 2024. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.
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𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞.
heliophile \ ˈhēlēəˌfīl \ (n.) - one attracted to, or adapted to sunlight.
❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x fem!reader
❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru was warm, like the sun. it only took a big social event (and for him to drink a bit) for you to truly see him shine
❆ 𝐰𝐜: 2.3k
❆ 𝐚/𝐧: ough i love him i've been sitting on this for a WHILE !! as always, reblogs n comments are much appreciated <;3
❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: alcohol consumption ( everyone give a big hand to satoru for drinking !!!! ) and then he throws up from alcohol consumption !!! (emeto warning)
satoru gojo was an easy man.
he had a laundry list of things he loved more than life. his students, his pretty little girlfriend; there wasn’t a boundary that existed that his persistent and ever-forward personality couldn’t break into.
satoru was like the sun, in a way. things just…came alive around him. the chaos he brought with him everywhere he went was so common that it was almost comforting. where bad things happened, satoru fixed them. and wherever he was, the good just followed. his rays of light and entropy reached out and warmed everything it touched. all beings seemed to turn to bask in his very being.
for things he hated? well, there was a list for that too. some more prominent than others, but your favorite thing he seemed to hate was the least offensive of its competition: alcohol.
in the years you two have been together, you couldn’t recall the last time satoru was seen with a drink in his hand, let alone remember if you’d ever seen it. he didn’t mind when other people were drinking, of course (and loved to indulge you when you got a bit too drunk), but never let himself take a sip.
you weren’t sure if it was because of a bad experience in his youth, something in his family, or just a personal experience; it was never right to bring it up.
but you didn’t mind. and tonight was a night worth celebrating, after all.
you and satoru got dressed up to go out with some friends. something about a big mission finally being over. you’ve never seen anyone party as hard as sorcerers do after they finish their job. all you and satoru could do was attend and catch up with colleagues. you’d have a drink, he’d have a mocktail, and all would flow like it normally would.
satoru fiddled with the button on his shirt as you two walked into the venue.
some club that was picked out by someone whose name you forgot–maybe they were from kyoto? you couldn’t really remember. it wasn’t the type of scene you frequented, but a change of pace was very much welcomed.
your boyfriend’s jittery hands caught your eye as you glanced over at him. his other hand kept you close to his body, but just enough so that you could look up at his face.
“feelin’ okay, baby?”
he looks at you a little delayed, nodding before his eyes meet yours to put your mind at ease.
“we don’t have to stay too long, if you don’t wanna hang around,”
“that’s not it,” he starts, and he barely opens his mouth before he’s called over by some colleagues. you continue to look up at him as he greets them with a sweet smile, rubbing your back to soothe your worries.
mmm, not like you believed him, but you did trust him; so you followed him along, walking just ahead of him as his hand guided you towards his colleagues.
and the colleagues just kept on coming, even inside the club. you’d think satoru worked with, or even saved, every single person in the entire country with the amount of people coming up to you at this party. and he had a story for each and every one of them too–his memory about them all was crazy. it almost made you fall in love with him just a little bit more. he’s interacted with hundreds–no, thousands of people for work. but he always seemed to remember those he had a different kind of impact on.
it made your head spin a bit. sure, he liked to be grandiose about his adventures and his work, but seeing people back him up about it in the flesh seemed like a big gag that you weren’t let in on. you believed him, but was he really that great? he saved that many people, exorcized how many curses?
admiration poured out for satoru quicker than he could extend out a glass to hold it all. it was heartwarming to see. part of you wished people would treat him like this always, in secret hopes he’d be gentler on himself on the bad days. or maybe they already did, and it just wasn’t enough.
it was hard to hear everyone speaking when you were thinking so loud. you caught yourself staring at your boyfriend for longer than you think was normal.
he was the sun. the burning, beautiful, sustaining sun. people turned to him instinctively like sunflowers do when they want to flourish. like the sun, it felt like satoru was bound to detonate at any point–by the time you knew, it’d be over already. fleeting, warm, quick, yet merciless.
do the people basking in his warmth know that it’s the warmth of a man who lit himself on fire?
mankind could never land on the sun. you’d burn up before you could even truly appreciate it. maybe these people were appreciating him from a safe distance. close enough, but never close enough to scald themselves or be swallowed up in the atmosphere.
if he was the sun, you weren’t sure what that makes you.
a close planet orbiting nearby? an asteroid? maybe you’re a lone astronaut, untethered in the vastness of it all. with the sun loving you from afar, as it usually does.
you weren’t sure if you liked the answer, or the implication of it all. it was time for a drink.
when satoru had a spare moment to breathe, you pulled him away to head to the bar and get a drink. you hugged him a little bit tighter than usual, opting to hold onto his arm instead of just his hand.
“you okay there?” he asked.
you nodded, smiling at him and rubbing his arm. you’d thought yourself into a worry, is all, there was no use in getting him mixed up in it as well.
“i’m okay! just meeting a lot of people tonight,”
“sorry, i’m sure it’s overwhelming, sweetie,”
“i don’t mind it. i like hearing all of your stories from work,”
you reach the bar and he leans on it, looking at you fondly.
“really~? you like hearing all these stories about your big, bad boyfriend saving the day, huh?”
you roll your eyes at him playfully, trying to suppress a smile.
“mmm, it’s gone. you ruined it,”
he cocks his head smiling, drawing a little nonsensical pattern on your arm while he admires you.
maybe you couldn’t be the sun. but you could get as close as you wanted to it. he accepted you into his atmosphere with open arms.
“don’t pretend you don’t love it, baby,”
you look away as the bartender approaches, smiling gently.
“something like that,”
you place your order, chatting with the bartender about another patron.
unbeknownst to you, satoru had been approached by a woman he’d worked with many years ago. she greeted him with a warm hug, touch lingering on him a little too long, eyes traveling too south before talking only about what she’s been up to.
by the time you’d gone back to him with your drink, satoru was holding a small shot glass in hand.
“i’ve been treated to a shot! lucky me,” he said.
you shift your eyes between him and the woman across from him, unsure what was going on. before you could decide, satoru was rubbing your lip with a lemon wedge.
you couldn’t even wipe the juice dribbling from your chin before watching your boyfriend lick salt off the back of his hand and slam back his drink.
and then he turned to you, grabbing your face to kiss you incredibly obnoxiously in front of this woman.
it felt like he’d taken all the air out of your lungs. he was electric.
and he just took a shot, apparently.
he turns back to the woman, who was still watching—half in disgust.
“you said it was salt, tequila, and lemon for the order, right?” he asked. his hand moved back down to its rightful position hovering just above the shelf of your butt.
the poor woman could barely speak. it’d become obvious that she’d bought the shot for him, hoping that a mere tequila shot would have him head over heels for her. all she did was nod, a little bit perplexed and a lot a bit embarrassed.
“thanks for the shot!”
satoru turned away from the defeated woman, guiding you back towards the bartender on the other end of the counter.
“feelin’ dangerous tonight, huh?”
“i’m not gonna turn down anything free,”
you tap your finger on the counter, mulling it over.
dramatically pouting, you smile up at him, “you hate alcohol though,”
he smiles down at you, motioning the bartender over.
“might as well go all in, yeah?”
he orders ‘whatever you’re having,’ opening a tab while taking a sip and wincing at the taste of it. he’s trying, at least, but his dramatics were pulling out all the stops tonight.
satoru made his way through the party, socializing with nearly every group of people he could find. it was almost as if being alone would kill him.
you know how sharks continue moving so that they can stay alive? satoru had to have evolved from them. he couldn’t sit still.
that was the first indication that he’d had too much to drink. his aversion to alcohol left your oh-so-strong boyfriend with the worst alcohol tolerance you’ve ever seen.
one tequila shot with a drink and a half—he’s already thinking hard about every word that comes out of his mouth.
his hand never left the small of your back. first moving you like a personal shield in front of him when you arrived, he’s now shifted to using you as a point of balance.
the night flew by when you turned your attention solely on him. you knew he’d be okay, ultimately, and you cut him off before he did anything embarrassing. but seeing him so inebriated was an unfortunate turn of character.
“ready to go?” you asked. you and satoru were one of the few left, as everyone else had decided to continue the night at a different club.
you’d figured satoru wouldn’t mind if you cut the night a little bit short.
“mhm~”
satoru spoke slowly, eyes closed as he shifted his body weight more onto you. you couldn’t recall how long you’d been sitting in this booth, but you figured you’d fare better back at your apartment.
you helped him get up, saying goodbye to the remaining sorcerers as you walked the both of you out to the car.
satoru ran to open your door for you, as he usually did. just a little bit slower, and definitely more intentional this time.
“baby, you’re too drunk to drive,” you laughed, “c’mon, get in,”
he looked at the open car door, not hearing a word you just said to him.
once it’s processed, he closes that door and speed walks to the other side of the car, opening the driver’s side and motioning you to get in.
all you can do is smile.
you kiss him on his hand as you pull it off the door.
“thank you, love”
he looks at you dumbly, waiting for something.
“can i have a kiss?”
he didn’t have to ask for permission for that, and you weren’t really sure why he was now. but you were cold, tired, and ready to go to sleep.
“i’ll give you one if you get in the car and buckle up,”
you’d barely finished the sentence before satoru was running to his side, getting in and buckling up. by the time you’d caught up to him and sat in your own seat, he was leaning over the center console waiting for his prize.
so stupid, you thought. so cute.
leaning in, you kissed him as if he was made of glass. as he deserved to be kissed. and loved. gently, kindly, softly. he was easy to love.
he desperately tried to make the kiss deeper, gently moaning into your mouth and speeding up his pace in hopes that you’d catch on.
you did. you’re a smart one.
but he didn’t have to know that.
you let him kiss you as long as he wanted. indulging every swipe of his tongue, answering all of his unsung moans with one of your own, smiling into his mouth so he could taste how happy he made you.
maybe drunk satoru was good.
you pulled away.
“we have to go home, babe,”
satoru hummed in disapproval, dramatically turning out towards the window in defiance.
“why don’t you love me?”
a little giggle escaped you at his pouting. always so dramatic.
“sorry, you’re right,” you giggled. you reached for his hand as you began to drive, “i’ll be more considerate in the future,”
“please and thank you,”
his actions weren’t matching his words. while he threw one of his appropriately nicknamed “toru tantrums,” his fingers found their way to your thigh as he took hold for an ounce of affection.
you’re convinced he’d explode if he wasn’t touching you for one second.
the rest of the drive home was uneventful. every five minutes or so, satoru would say “pull over, i’m gonna throw up,” only to follow up with “false alarm!”
it was hard to believe him after the third time.
luckily, you both got home in one piece—with no vomit anywhere in sight. you’d consider that a win.
you help satoru out of the car, his eyes barely open as the two of you walk back into your apartment.
he quickly turned away from you, throwing up in a bush in the garden outside your building. you rubbed his back gently, trying to soothe him without getting sick yourself.
it passed, as it always does. but he looks pale, drained, and just a little bit pathetic.
“i’m just glad it didn’t happen in the car,” he says flatly.
rather than kicking him while he’s down, you opted for being doting and sweet.
“feelin’ better now, sweetie?”
satoru swallows hard, leaning his weight onto you as he struggles to keep his eyes open.
“i’m never drinking again,”
at least he’s honest, you think, you had to give him that.
“let’s get to bed, satoru,” you laugh, “i’ll take care of you, ‘kay?”
all content © cinnamoneve 2024. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.
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