Chapter Text
Tintin, prolific journalist of belgium or whatever, our favourite lil ginger twink, rn hes staring at Captain Haddock, whos sitting across the bar from him. Haddock is staring sorrowfully into his glass of alcoholic drink, looking like a man with the weight of the world upon his alchoholic shoulders. Tintin wanders over to the Captain, worried about his dear friend and guy he definitely isnt in love with hahahah what r u talking about.
“Fishboy” (his endearing, romantic nickname for Haddock) “whats a’bothering you, you fine olive oil of a man”
“Ach Tintin, you fucking queer” says Haddock in a totally not at all stereotypical accent “if only u knew”
“my guy. im asking like. tell me, asshole”
“if youd just shut up for one minute. bloody hell im sick of this. as i was saying. im feeling a little down. about something i’ve never mentioned to you, my dear lad. so i dont know how youll react to what im about to say. but i just want u to remember that im your friend, that i persuaded u outta getting that tattoo when u were going through that breakup with calculus”
“that fucking bastard” Tintin says, in his dumb fucking high pitched voice. he sounds like a gay weasel on steroids smh.
“so just remember that were friends, and, as that disney show or whatever said, friends support eachother no matter what. so. tintin. im telling you im trans”
“slay i guess” tintin responds. “i know how difficult it must be etc etc etc insert heartwarming response to your bff coming out as trans”
“well tintin. thanks for accepting me as trans. but my problem is that the fucking D is weighing me down. life is bleak”
“i thought the problem is that the D wasnt weighing you down. bc u dont have one-”
tintin was cut off by haddock throwing a bottle of idk. what do alchoholics drink. i should know this, my grandad was drunk all his life until he wasnt. whisky sure
throwing a bottle of whisky at the goddamned ginger
“you fucking journalists and your. words. damn you tintin will ye jus’ listen tae whut im saying ye bastard. the problem is the dysphoria man. he comes to my house everyday and demands the blood of my first born child and i say to him “i dont have any children who the fuck are you who let you in get off my land?!” and then he disappears into a small mound of dust on the ground. then i eat the dust. youve seen me with white powder in my beard right? yeah so its not coke its man dust”
here tintin starts to look perplexed and concerned. he mentions that he thought the dysphoria man was meant to be a very old woman, he gets cut off by a bottle of vodka sailing past his ear.
“ye jesus fucking wanker tintin. shut your goddamn hole for one moment why dont u.
AS i was saying. after i eat the dysphoria mans ashes everyday, i go back to my bedroom to dress (he comes [lol] every morning at dawn, im already up by then bc sleep is for the week, but im pissed bc i dont want my drinking interrupted by dust men. theyre the worst kind of men!!) and i get into my clothes and i look at myself in the mirror and i feel bad. its like there’s this prick in my head saying that ill never be a man, that voice is supported by cisnornativeity or however u spell it. and basically. i want a dick”
at the mention of dick, tintins gay ass face turns a bright pink. and his own weewee starts to get hard.
“but the problem is were still living in idk the 1930’s or whenever this is set. and we dont have bottom surgery yet. ya see i lost the tits in a swordfighting accident in my youth, and dear old cuthbert stole the man juice 🧃 (testosterone) from somewhere or other and has been supplying it to me, a real trans ally tbh. but even he cant get me a dick”
“well Fishboy, that sucks my guy. i wish there was some way i could help”
“i know tintin. youre a good friend. sorry for physically and verbally abusing u earlier pls forgive me UwU”
“sure, how could i say no to that handsome face. now for the sake of plot im going to leave u alone with your horrible little thoughts”
tintin now leaves haddock alone with his horrible little thoughts and walks in the direction of calculus’ house
he arrives in some amount of time. and is soon sitting, drinking a nice cup of drugs, with the eccentric professor
“ah tintin what a pleasant surprise” cuthbert writes (they realized he was deaf a couple years ago and it was easier for them to communicate via writing and also i cant be bothered to add in all the yelling)
“cuthbert. i need a dick”
“oh. tintin. well, im flattered. but as you know, im married to the grind”
“no not for me. for haddock. i dont know if hes asked u yet but like. can u give him a dick please”
“ tintin i have a deathly allergy to penis, so i couldnt possibly attach one to him. id die. do u want me to die tintin??”
“actually i do, given the way u treated me when we were dating. you prick. but im not here for you. im here to be a good friend to haddock. not at all bc im in love w him in a romantic way hahahahaha hehehehe” he cackled nervously
“hmm well i suppose, i might be able to think of something. but i cant make any promises you understand? ill just have a look in the attic to see if theres anything i could use as a dick”
cuthbert then scrambled up the ladder to the attic like a rat on heroin, and was heard crashing about in up there. meanwhile tintin, was thinking about how happy captain haddock would be with his pp, how his grizzled face would light up with joy, how hed thank tintin over and over again, tintin could just imagine haddock sitting in bed, stroking whatever cuthbert came up with, doing a bunch of sex things and whatnot.
just then, cuthbert came back down, holding something behind his back
“now tintin, this is the only thing i can think of that could possibly work as a penis for captain haddock” he wrote, before revealing the item.
it was a miniature plastic fish figurine [hehe fig urine]. about 6 inches in length. like imagine an anime figurine, but instead of a character its a fish. yeah thats it
“omg cuthbert, thats a great idea thank u so much!” said tintin, already drooling at the thought that right in front of him was haddock’s future cock
“well i try my best” he scrawled modestly
“i can stick it on anytime’s convenient for that wretched sailor”
“cool 👍” replied tintin, before rushing out to tell haddock the good news. Fishboy was overjoyed, and the surgery was scheduled for the following afternoon.