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For all the times that he had allowed Tintin to drag him into some form of globe-trotting escapade, Captain Haddock truly thought that he would have gotten used to it.
His theory was quick to be solidified as he, although somewhat belatedly, managed to seek out the pattern to his friend's madness. For the most part, it had remained unchanged; Tintin would stumble upon a lead in a way that only the young reporter could. Trusting that phenomenal gut instinct of his, he'd have a rucksack packed with necessities within the hour and would have taken leave at once... if he didn't fathom the vital need of planning in advance, which in more occasions than should be considered healthy, had managed to save their lives, even if by a hairsbreadth.
Captain Haddock could even nonchalantly comment that it would have seemed as if Tintin's conduct screamed of acceptance and a uniquely characteristic brand of iron resolve; trouble and he often seem to be mutually attracted to the other.
Inevitably, he'd find himself playing third wheel every time it comes knocking on their front door. He thought he would have gotten used to it by now.
For the most parts; the answer is definite. His familiarity to the gnawing sensation of unease that flooded his system whenever watching the thoughtful glint creep into his best friend's eyes could only be matched by his adaption to the rush of pure adrenaline that would replace the fear soon enough. After all they'd been through; it would have been expected, even habitual for him.
There was one thing though that Captain Haddock could safely say that he'd probably never familiarities himself with.
It was watching Tintin nimbly duck from beneath his protective arm that held him at bay, partly skidding and partly lurching on the ice layered pavement after a suspect; it was the hopeless wave of frantic worry as he desperately tries to free himself of his own bonds, watching his friend being manhandled roughly to the ground by his own captors; it was the feeling of shattering glass in his hands when he takes a swing at the back of a man holding Tintin directly at gun point; it was watching the bulk of muscle twitch on an arm when the other end was latched firmly around Tintin's throat as his friend begins to gasp for another intake of life-giving oxygen...
It was all that, and countless more.
It was no wonder that despite his initial protests, Captain Haddock would be damned the day he allowed the young lad to get too far out of his sight.
He knew his place; it's a realization that came rolling on his doorstep soon after he was placed as Tintin's closest confidant.
His best friend.
His theory was quick to be solidified as he, although somewhat belatedly, managed to seek out the pattern to his friend's madness. For the most part, it had remained unchanged; Tintin would stumble upon a lead in a way that only the young reporter could. Trusting that phenomenal gut instinct of his, he'd have a rucksack packed with necessities within the hour and would have taken leave at once... if he didn't fathom the vital need of planning in advance, which in more occasions than should be considered healthy, had managed to save their lives, even if by a hairsbreadth.
Captain Haddock could even nonchalantly comment that it would have seemed as if Tintin's conduct screamed of acceptance and a uniquely characteristic brand of iron resolve; trouble and he often seem to be mutually attracted to the other.
Inevitably, he'd find himself playing third wheel every time it comes knocking on their front door. He thought he would have gotten used to it by now.
For the most parts; the answer is definite. His familiarity to the gnawing sensation of unease that flooded his system whenever watching the thoughtful glint creep into his best friend's eyes could only be matched by his adaption to the rush of pure adrenaline that would replace the fear soon enough. After all they'd been through; it would have been expected, even habitual for him.
There was one thing though that Captain Haddock could safely say that he'd probably never familiarities himself with.
It was watching Tintin nimbly duck from beneath his protective arm that held him at bay, partly skidding and partly lurching on the ice layered pavement after a suspect; it was the hopeless wave of frantic worry as he desperately tries to free himself of his own bonds, watching his friend being manhandled roughly to the ground by his own captors; it was the feeling of shattering glass in his hands when he takes a swing at the back of a man holding Tintin directly at gun point; it was watching the bulk of muscle twitch on an arm when the other end was latched firmly around Tintin's throat as his friend begins to gasp for another intake of life-giving oxygen...
It was all that, and countless more.
It was no wonder that despite his initial protests, Captain Haddock would be damned the day he allowed the young lad to get too far out of his sight.
He knew his place; it's a realization that came rolling on his doorstep soon after he was placed as Tintin's closest confidant.
His best friend.
Literature
Confessions of a Potterhead.
No, it wasn't just a book/movie series for me; it was so much more than that. It was a place I could go to when I wanted to runaway. It was a magical place I could go and feel alive with friends. I could believe in everything, than anything was possible, even when there wasn't any light of hope left. I found comfort and security on Harry's side. I found loyalty and trust in Ron. I learned to be strong with Hermione. I learned to stand up against my enemies and my friends with Neville. Luna taught me that it's completely fine to not be like the others. Fred and George showed me that there's always humor in the most serious situations. Draco l
Literature
Proposition
James never really understood the idea of having several damn locks on one's front door. Especially when he needed three separate keys to undo them before even releasing the protection charm above the threshold; today he was too distracted. It had taken him a few minutes to notice that the locks were already undone and dispelling the charm was apparently unnecessary as a familiar voice rang from the inside.
"It's open you know!"
James swung the door open to the sight of his best friend lounging on the small two-seater sofa he had taken from his parents' house as the only thing small enough to fit into the flat. Sirius was grinning at him pr
Literature
Courage : a Harry Potter poem
There once was a boy with a round chubby face
And a toad with a love of escape
His family thought that he might be a Squib
And his boggart was Professor Snape
At Hogwarts he couldn't do anything right
He melted his cauldrons and spilled all his potions
You'd better watch out if you're with him in Charms
He'll take your eye out with his clumsy wand motions
He has a Remembrall which always glows scarlet
His Banishing charm knocked over Flitwick
He always forgets the common room password
And don't let him get near a broomstick!
What a loser, pathetic, a moron, a joke
Or is there more here than what meets the eye?
Friendship and cou
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<-- My mental state while writing this. Seriously.
I felt like such an epic PHAILURE. I could barely string a few bloody sentences together without getting frustrated and erasing the whole thing again. I started this out of a whim to drabble, ya know, 100 words and all, but ended up getting irate with myself at my inability to do so.
I screwed up on this. Big time
... Altho I found out that I adore bromance ;3
Tintin and Haddock (c) Herge
I felt like such an epic PHAILURE. I could barely string a few bloody sentences together without getting frustrated and erasing the whole thing again. I started this out of a whim to drabble, ya know, 100 words and all, but ended up getting irate with myself at my inability to do so.
I screwed up on this. Big time
... Altho I found out that I adore bromance ;3
Tintin and Haddock (c) Herge
© 2011 - 2024 Syaz-Avyen
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Really nice story, their bromance is just... aww <3 i love it.
Good job ; )
Good job ; )