Five facts about the wonder that is tired tired sea 💕
1. i didn’t write it with this goal in mind at all, but it’s absolutely turned into my love letter to scotland.
2. tts louis is the most me of all the character’s i’ve ever written. to the point where i would sometime actively think ‘oh i’ll just add this thing from my own life/own personality to the fic’… to the point where it’s extremely awkward for me to think about that many people reading it and maybe noticing.
3. i’ve briefly mentioned this before and idk how many people saw it? but harry 100% proposes via postcard a few years post fic. i’d say at least… 4 years later? long enough that they’ve established a way they can make their very different lives work and that they’ve got all sorts of routines in place for when harry is home and when he’s away on tour. it’s a pretty normal chill day. 100% late autumn/early winter so the b&b is empty except for louis, harry & clifford and they’re just chilling in the living room (cuddling/reading/h playing guitar ?? idk something soft) when the mail arrives and i’m thinking they bicker a little as to who is gonna have to get up to collect it and harry is weirdly insistent and pouty so louis finally gives in. he’s flipping through bills and nonsense as he makes his way back into the living room when he gets to the postcard. i’m thinking it’s a vintage one h got in a charity shop somewhere – either something super scottish or some cheesy early 20th c. romantic picture of people embracing – and on the back there’s just something short and not really effusive with sentiment like ‘hey lover of mine, wanna get married?’ or ‘what if we got married? thoughts?’ or even just ‘hey, marry me?’ because harry’s feelings get beautifully written for louis in most of his songs so he doesn’t really want a big romantic gesture for this. but louis still gasps a little, surprised, when he reads it and he drops everything else on the floor, a flutter of paper scattering at his feet that cliff can’t help but come and sniff at. when he looks up harry is still sitting on the sofa looking a little amused and a little smug, shrugging in a ‘what do you think’ kind of way. and the first thing that comes out of louis’ mouth is ‘you don’t even have a ring’ and harry laughs, then says ‘if that’s the only thing stopping you from saying yes i can remedy that’ before getting up and reaching inside the pocket of his jeans for a ring he bought probably years ago. he’s still a little nervous, even though he’s trying to hide it, so he drops the ring on the floor in his eagerness and it buries itself in the carpet and while harry bends down to pick it up, louis just says something like ‘holy shit’ and ‘are you serious?’ and he’ll deny it later but he’s crying a little and his hands are shaking where they’re still holding the postcard. maybe he presses it against his chest, hands flat against it to stop the trembling? and harry gets back up, holding the ring tightly in one fist, heart pounding as he wrinkles his nose and says ‘am i serious?’ back at him, voice a little strangled when he takes a few steps towards louis. ‘am i serious?’ he repeats, reaching for louis’ cheek with the hand not still holding the ring. ‘babe, i’ve never been more serious in my entire life.’ and louis would say yes but he just really needs to kiss harry right now. ‘we’re getting married on top of the lighthouse,’ louis says when they finally separate. ‘just you and me and whoever officiates.’ harry smiles, kissing louis’ forehead. ‘sounds about right.’
4. eventually, when harry officially moves in, they turn the lighthouse keeper room into an ‘immersive experience’ for guests and they keep one of the nice bedrooms with an amazing view of the cliffs for themselves. harry has a house in london where he keeps most of his pop star stuff like tour outfits and gifted clothes and extra instruments and various awards, but he obviously keeps his favourite guitar around the b&b. it kind of becomes an attraction, to louis’ annoyance, because harry plays it everywhere around the lighthouse and leaves it lying around. guests will stare at it like it’s some sort of magical artefact and when they think no one is looking, they’ll sneak a touch like it somehow means something to touch an object harry has touched. louis never comments on it even though he’s always tempted to remind them harry actually lives here and there’s not much left in the building he hasn’t put his big paws on. hell, louis would tell a couple of teenage girls on holiday with their parents that harry is most likely the one who folded their sheets one summer, if he wasn’t afraid they’d faint on him. instead, he watches them whisper at each other and look at the guitar with awe, blushing furiously when harry comes back from his morning run with clifford sweaty and dimply, waving at them before heading upstairs for a shower. it’s a weird balance to strike, allowing regular folk into a space harry occupies and out of the two of them, louis is probably the one who struggles with it the most, aggressively protective as he is. but all in all, louis has a steady clientele who have been coming for years mixed in with random backpackers and tourists, and the number of people coming with the hope to gawk at the popstar aren’t as high as he feared. and they dwindle as the years pass, as harry’s unlikely lifestyle choices become boring old news. louis doesn’t allow harry to keep his grammy in public rooms though, no matter how much harry thinks it’s fun to let people play with it, no matter how much he wants to normalise his life, to not be deified by the masses. but there are limits to how much popstar related stress louis can endure and he really doesn’t want the damned thing to show up on ebay someday.
5. harry relapses two years into their marriage, while on the longest tour he’s had since before he got sober. he doesn’t go off the rail and has to be tracked down at the crack of dawn in some shady part of a city he doesn’t know, but he does get completely shitfaced in his hotel room before calling louis in tears to tell him how much of a failure he is that he can’t even handle something he’s done dozens of times before without losing it. it’s probably the worst call of louis’ life, not because harry’s drunk, but because he’s so angry and disappointed in himself and louis isn’t even there to hold him through it. but they both know sobriety isn’t a straight line and they get through it together. it takes a while, but eventually, harry believes louis again when he tells him he’s proud of him. and harry doesn’t try to do year-long tours anymore. no matter how steady on his feet he feels, how confident he’s been, he doesn’t try again. not when he hits five years sober again, or ten, or even twenty. the older he gets, the better he is at knowing his limits and the less tempted he is to play with them.
i know i’ve left it on a bit of a sour note, but i promise they’re okay and they’re happy. even if there are some ups and downs.
Send me a name of a fanfic I wrote And i’ll give you five facts/headcanons about it!
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