#teak garden chairs with arms

[eternahome]

Comfort and Style: The Best Teak Garden Chairs with Arms

Introduction

Teak garden furniture has long been revered for its unparalleled combination of durability, elegance, and ease of maintenance. Among the various pieces of teak furniture, garden chairs with arms stand out for their blend of comfort and style. This article explores why teak garden chairs with arms are a superior choice for outdoor seating, delving into their design features, benefits, maintenance, and how they enhance the aesthetics of any garden setting. We will also provide tips on selecting the best teak garden chairs with arms to suit your specific needs.

The Appeal of Teak Wood

Teak wood, native to Southeast Asia, is highly prized for its exceptional qualities. The natural oils and rubber within teak make it remarkably resistant to moisture, pests, and decay. These inherent properties ensure that teak garden chairs can withstand the varied and often harsh weather conditions typical in many regions, including the UK. Whether exposed to rain, intense sunlight, or cold winters, teak maintains its structural integrity and aesthetic appeal, making it an ideal material for outdoor furniture.

Design Features of Teak Garden Chairs with Arms

Teak garden chairs with arms are designed to offer both comfort and style. The inclusion of arms provides additional support and relaxation, making these chairs perfect for long, leisurely outdoor sessions. The ergonomic design of many teak chairs ensures optimal seating comfort, with contours that support the natural curves of the body.

The craftsmanship of teak garden chairs is another key feature. Teak is a dense, strong wood that allows for intricate designs and robust construction. This means that teak chairs can be both visually appealing and highly functional. The smooth finish and fine grain of teak add to its luxurious look and feel, enhancing the overall aesthetic of your garden.

Benefits of Teak Garden Chairs with Arms

The benefits of teak garden chairs with arms extend beyond their visual appeal and durability. Here are some of the primary advantages:

1. Durability and Longevity: Teak wood's resistance to environmental factors ensures that teak garden chairs have a long lifespan. Unlike other woods that may crack, warp, or rot over time, teak remains sturdy and reliable, even with minimal maintenance.

2. Comfort: The armrests on teak garden chairs provide added comfort, making them ideal for relaxation. Whether used for dining, reading, or simply enjoying the outdoors, the support offered by armrests enhances the overall seating experience.

3. Aesthetic Appeal: Teak chairs with arms exude a timeless elegance. The natural golden-brown color of teak, which weathers to a beautiful silvery-grey patina, adds a touch of sophistication to any garden setting. This aging process is highly valued for the character it brings to the furniture.

4. Low Maintenance: The natural oils in teak mean that it does not require frequent treatments or protective coatings. A simple annual cleaning is typically sufficient to maintain its appearance. For those who prefer to preserve the original color, applying a teak protector is an easy option.

5. Versatility: Teak garden chairs with arms are versatile in design, suitable for various outdoor settings. Whether your garden has a contemporary, traditional, or rustic theme, teak furniture can complement and enhance the overall look.

Maintenance of Teak Garden Chairs

Maintaining teak garden chairs with arms is relatively straightforward. Here are some tips to ensure your teak furniture remains in top condition:

1. Cleaning: Regular cleaning helps maintain the appearance and longevity of teak chairs. Use a mild soap and water solution to clean the surface, removing dirt and debris. A soft brush can be used for deeper cleaning if necessary.

2. Preserving Color: If you prefer to keep the golden-brown color of new teak, consider applying a teak protector annually. This helps prevent the wood from weathering to a grey patina. Alternatively, allowing the wood to weather naturally requires no additional treatment and is purely aesthetic.

3. Storage: While teak is durable enough to withstand outdoor conditions year-round, covering the chairs or storing them indoors during extreme weather can prolong their lifespan. This is especially useful during prolonged periods of rain or harsh winters.

4. Avoid Harsh Chemicals: Refrain from using harsh chemicals or pressure washers, as these can damage the wood's surface and strip away its natural oils. Stick to gentle cleaning methods to preserve the wood's integrity.

Enhancing Garden Aesthetics with Teak Chairs

Teak garden chairs with arms not only offer comfort but also significantly enhance the visual appeal of your outdoor space. Their elegant design and natural wood finish create a warm and inviting atmosphere. Here are some ways to incorporate teak chairs into your garden for maximum aesthetic impact:

1. Creating a Focal Point: Arrange teak chairs around a teak table or a garden feature to create a focal point in your garden. This setup encourages social interaction and becomes a centerpiece of outdoor gatherings.

2. Complementing Greenery: The natural color of teak beautifully complements the greenery and floral elements of a garden. Positioning teak chairs amidst lush plants and flowers creates a harmonious and visually pleasing environment.

3. Pairing with Accessories: Enhance the look of your teak chairs with outdoor cushions and throws. Opt for weather-resistant fabrics in colors and patterns that complement your garden’s overall theme.

4. Versatile Placement: Teak chairs with arms can be placed in various garden settings, from patios and decks to garden paths and gazebos. Their versatility allows you to create different seating areas throughout your garden, each with its unique ambiance.

Selecting the Best Teak Garden Chairs with Arms

When choosing teak garden chairs with arms, several factors should be considered to ensure you select the best option for your needs:

1. Quality of Teak: Ensure that the teak wood used in the chairs is of high quality, ideally sourced from sustainably managed plantations. Look for certifications that guarantee responsible forestry practices.

2. Craftsmanship: Pay attention to the craftsmanship of the chairs. Well-constructed teak furniture should have smooth finishes, sturdy joints, and a solid feel. Avoid chairs with rough surfaces or visible defects.

3. Comfort and Ergonomics: Test the chairs for comfort. The design should support your body comfortably, with well-positioned armrests and a backrest that provides adequate support. Consider adding cushions for extra comfort.

4. Design and Style: Choose a design that complements your garden’s overall aesthetic. Whether you prefer a classic, rustic look or a modern, sleek design, teak chairs are available in various styles to suit different tastes.

5. Size and Dimensions: Ensure the size and dimensions of the chairs fit well in your garden space. Consider the height of the armrests, seat width, and overall chair size to ensure a comfortable seating arrangement.

Conclusion

Teak garden chairs with arms are the epitome of comfort and style for outdoor furniture. Their exceptional durability, combined with the natural beauty of teak wood, makes them a superior choice for any garden setting. The low maintenance requirements and versatile design options further enhance their appeal, offering both practicality and elegance. By selecting high-quality teak chairs and incorporating them thoughtfully into your garden, you can create a welcoming and aesthetically pleasing outdoor space that will be enjoyed for years to come. Whether for dining, relaxation, or social gatherings, teak garden chairs with arms provide the perfect blend of comfort, style, and longevity.

[sysakiddo]

here we are, fourth one already 😭 Max is really pushing my agenda with all of his geography knowledge in all the grill the grid videos and the freaking Time interview. all the love to @123pixieaod for her amazing feedback 💓

1, 2, 3

The terrace has a beautiful wooden floor and an enormous swimming pool, both something Daniel mentioned as pros when they were deciding on buying a villa in Èze. Ultimately, it all came down to the three mulberry trees growing on the right side of the garden. Max has never fully explained his obsession with the mulberries, but it was enough for him to buy the villa even without the other positives.

When Charles visited the estate for the first time, he and Max spent hours picking the mulberries and climbing up the trees like little kids. That confirmed Daniel's suspicion it had something to do with Max's childhood, even though it was one of the rare instances when Charles refused to dish out Max's secrets.

The housewarming gift from their friends, the enormous table made of teak, made the terrace look like a paradise. The first evening together, they sit around it with glasses of wine Daniel insisted on choosing. Max is reading and only half-listening to Charles and Alex's conversation at the other side of the table. Seb looks like he is about to fall asleep on the chair beside him.

"That's like you and the mysterious metro guy!" Charles laughs, interrupting everyone with a loud exclamation. He points his glass of pastis in Max's direction, who has no idea what brought them here.

Max, embarrassingly, feels blood rush to his cheeks. "Shut up," he grumbles. "Who invited you again?"

Max did. He sent him a text that only said, 'Eze 12-19 July'. Charles sent back a thumbs up and called Daniel a week later for details he knew Max wouldn't be willing to share.

Daniel looks up from his phone, dripping water everywhere with the movement. He got out of the pool merely minutes before, enjoying the coolness of the water after the long, hot day of travelling they had. Max's blush stuns him. "Metro guy?"

Charles gasps theatrically, smiling so wide his dimples are showing in their full force. "Noo," he drawls gleefully. He basks in any opportunity to make Max uncomfortable. "Max Verstappen, you did not tell your husband about the metro guy?"

Daniel sighs, putting his hand over his heart, getting into the play Charles sets up. "Baby, am I the other man?"

Giggles break out around the table, everybody watching them by now.

"There's nothing to tell you, Daniel. And you-" Max says sternly, pointing his finger at Charles, whose shoulders shake with giggles. "Shut the fuck up before I-"

"When we were interns in Stockholm-" Charles interrupts him, looking at Daniel meaningfully while he starts with the story.

"This is embarrassing, Charles." Max rolls his eyes, but Charles doesn't react. He feeds off Max's despair. When he breathes in to continue, Max takes the precautionary measure and quickly asks him, "Have you told Sebastian who you were with when you broke your hand?"

Charles' smile dims. Sebastian opens one eye and squints at them with poorly hidden curiosity. He asked Charles about the incident many times and never got anything but empty words and white lies. He should have figured out that Max would know what really happened.

"You are no fun, Max. The most annoyingly serious man ever. I don't know how you put up with him." he turns to Daniel with the last sentence, who is still looking at him expectantly.

"I want to hear the story!"

Max huffs, crossing his arms. "I am not that serious."

Charles clicks his tongue loudly, taking another sip of his anise liquor. "You're reading Kissinger on a vacation." Max yelps, offended. He closes the book and cringes at the loud thud. The noise feels incriminating.

"Well, sorry that I'm not creaming my pants over Édouard Louis," He says, scoffing at the book someone sat aside on the table.

"Sick burn, Max." Daniel deadpans. "You were reading The Hunger Games last week." Max, betrayed, frowns at him.

"And you liked Barbie better than Oppenheimer, so fuck off."

Alex looks up from his place on the lounger, basking in the sun. "We were supposed to like Oppenheimer?"

George wants to join the conversation, too. "Kissinger is one hundred years old, there is no way he wrote that book himself. AI is crazy these days."

"You should ask Max about his well-being, they are all buddy-buddy with each other. Right, Max? Having dinner with him every time you cross the ocean?" Alex is laughing, joining the fest of kicking Max while he's down.

Charles smirks, seeing another opening. "Maybe Daniel isn't the only old man Max is fucking."

Sebastian opens his eyes and frowns at the younger man. "Charles, that's enough. Don't be mean now." The look on Charles' face makes Max laugh gleefully.

"Yeah, Charles, don't be mean," he parrots. He never claimed he wasn't petty. Daniel kicks his leg under the table, shaking his head subtly.

Max deflates a little, returning to his book without saying anything else. Sebastian catches Daniel's look and mouths kids.

Daniel has to bring his wine glass to his lips so he doesn't start laughing. "When will the intern arrive?" he asks to change the subject.

"Who?"

"Max wants to adopt an intern."

Seb hums appreciatively. "It's about time you two get children."

"Her name is Anne, Daniel, and she's, of course, too old for me to adopt." Max says sternly. "She's going to come tomorrow morning. And Pierre is bringing an intern, too!"

Charles nods, clicking his tongue. "He's probably fucking her, though."

Daniel gags. "I thought he was dating the model? The one from Vogue?" Max and Charles shake their heads almost synchronically, always ready to gossip.

"What about you, Charles? Are you doing Vogue next?" Alex moves to an empty chair behind the table, cutting a piece of cheese someone laid out on it.

Charles, uncharacteristically, blushes. "No, that was a one-time thing."

In their group chat, his photo on the Time magazine cover worked as a meme by now. Max made fun of Charles for it ruthlessly, but Daniel knew he kept talking about how great it was that Mr Leclerc was finally getting the recognition he deserved to anyone who would listen to him.

Seb stands up and removes his shirt, padding off to the pool. Charles' eyes don't leave him once.

"On the other hand, I'd be willing to do Vogue if it meant getting out of that shithole." Naturally, Charles wanted everything Max had—a career of ages and a much older boyfriend. Alex smiles encouragingly, "Brussels is not that bad."

"Working in the Commission is a great opportunity, Charles," Max says, and Charles scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. He can’t stand their pity. "Seriously! I would if my husband wasn't solar- powered." he points at Daniel. "Two weeks in Belgian weather, and he withers away."

Everyone laughs, Max's words striking even more true now that Daniel is trying to soak up the sun shirtless on the chair next to them.

"Oh, Max," Charles slaps his hand down on the table, disappointed he forgot to mention this sooner. "I'm going to Amsterdam around the 28th. Care to join?"

Max's whole demeanour changes. "I can't, I'll be in Cairo, sorry."

Charles shrugs and tries to sneak away a piece of cheese Alex has cut for himself. Daniel kicks Max's leg, but the other man pointedly doesn't react.

"What's wrong with him?" he points his finger at Seb.

Everyone turns around, the distraction working perfectly. Sebastian is face down on a floatie, beer in his hand. He lazily kicks out once in a while, which just makes the scene even more grotesque.

"Seb? Are you planning on pulling a Kendall Roy over there?" Charles yells out, his eyebrows furrowed behind his designer sunglasses.

And because Sebastian is the only person left in the world who hasn’t watched Succession yet, his only reply is a mumbled, "Was?"

"He has been like this since he transferred to NATO," George says knowingly.

Charles slaps his hand down on the table. "See? Fucking Brussels."

|

Max gets out of the room at sunrise. He likes to run through the village while the other people start waking up. Daniel stirs when he comes out of the shower an hour later but doesn’t make any effort to actually wake up. He is fine with dozing off, naked, under the satin sheets.

"Daniel, me and Charles are going to the racetrack. Do you want to join us?"

Daniel knows they are even more insufferable while competing, but that's not the only reason why he shakes his head no. He can now distinguish the noise filtering inside from the street as Charles revving his Ferrari.

He feels the bed dip beside his hip, and with his eyes closed, he flinches a little when Max's fingers trail lightly over his nose, cheekbones, the soft skin under his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, more quietly now.

"Yeah," he opens one eye. "I'm just not feeling great. I think it would be better if I slept a bit more."

"Are you feeling bad again? What do you need me to do?" Max looks frenzied now, worry setting in his features.

Max is not stupid, noticing things about Daniel only the person who loves you can notice. How he doesn't even try sleeping without taking ten milligrams of melatonin and still trashing for a decent hour before he manages to fall asleep, or how he keeps playing with the food on his plate without really eating anything, or how he hasn't returned his mom's calls in a solid month. So, of course, he can tell Daniel is getting bad again.

Daniel suddenly feels like a dick, all of the memories from when he couldn't even get out of bed under the heavy baggage on his shoulders come flying into his head.

Max's hand travels further down his face, eventually wrapping his fingers around Daniel's throat. A muscle memory. That way, he feels his Adam's apple bobbing when he asks, "Why did you not tell me you're going to Cairo?"

"Why would I? So you could come with me?" he asks sarcastically. Daniel huffs, slaps Max's hand away.

"Oh, yes, I think his excellency Verstappen would love to have a lovely lunch with his son's husband."

Max physically recoils on the bed like he's been slapped. Max wasn't fed love on a silver spoon during childhood like Daniel. That's why he learned to lick it off knives.

"I'm not having this conversation right now,"

Daniel speaks again before Max can stand up and walk away. "Your therapist said spending time with him is not good for you." At least that's what Max said when explaining why he did not invite Jos to their anniversary celebration.

"She doesn't know shit."

Daniel sits up, anger spiking his veins with thousands of blades. "Max, mate. Everyone and their mother has read the fucking Guardian interview, so maybe knowing him calling you a failure made it on the front page is enough!"

"Fuck you, Daniel. Seriously, fuck you." If he knew him less, Max would easily believe Daniel had never read the interview. This is the first time Daniel mentions it. "I wanted to tell him about Beijing, so thank you for your fucking support!"

This time, Daniel just watches Max leave.

next part

[woodentwistblogs]

Elevate Your Living Space with Chaise Lounges from WoodenTwist

At WoodenTwist, our chaise lounges are designed to provide both comfort and sophistication, making them an essential piece for any stylish home. Let's dive into the rich history, diverse styles, and the superior craftsmanship that make our chaise lounges a perfect addition to your living space.

A Journey Through the History of Chaise Lounges Chaise lounges have a rich and varied history, evolving over centuries to become the epitome of luxury and relaxation.

Ancient Egypt: The origins of the chaise lounge can be traced back to ancient Egypt, where these long chairs were symbols of wealth and status. Crafted from palm wood, they were often intricately carved and designed for the comfort of the elite​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​. Greece and Rome: The Greeks and Romans further refined the concept. The Greeks introduced the "klismos" chair, known for its elegant curves and comfortable design, while the Romans popularized the "lectus," used for dining and reclining during social gatherings​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​. French Aristocracy: In the 16th century, chaise lounges became a symbol of luxury and sophistication in French aristocratic homes. These pieces were characterized by their opulent fabrics, intricate carvings, and exquisite craftsmanship​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​. Explore the Styles of Chaise Lounges at WoodenTwist At WoodenTwist, we offer a variety of chaise lounges to suit different tastes and home decor styles. Each piece is crafted to combine aesthetic appeal with ultimate comfort.

Classic Chaise Lounges: These lounges are perfect for those who appreciate timeless elegance. Featuring tufted upholstery, rolled arms, and sturdy wooden legs, they add a touch of vintage charm to any room​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Modern Chaise Lounges: Our modern designs are characterized by clean lines, minimalist aesthetics, and a variety of fabric options. These pieces are ideal for contemporary interiors, offering a sleek and stylish look​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Reclining Chaise Lounges: Designed for maximum versatility, our reclining chaise lounges come with adjustable backrests and footrests. They provide customized comfort, making them perfect for reading, relaxing, or even napping​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Outdoor Chaise Lounges: Crafted from weather-resistant materials like teak, rattan, and aluminum, our outdoor chaise lounges are designed to withstand the elements. They are ideal for adding a luxurious touch to your garden, patio, or poolside​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Unparalleled Craftsmanship at WoodenTwist Quality and craftsmanship are at the heart of every piece of furniture we create at WoodenTwist. Our chaise lounges are no exception, showcasing the best in materials and workmanship.

Premium Hardwoods: Our chaise lounges are made from durable hardwoods such as teak, oak, and walnut. These materials are chosen for their strength, durability, and natural beauty, ensuring that each piece is both robust and aesthetically pleasing​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Luxurious Fabrics: We offer a wide range of upholstery options, including sumptuous velvets, durable linens, and high-quality leathers. Each fabric is available in a variety of colors and patterns, allowing you to customize the look to suit your personal style​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Attention to Detail: Every chaise lounge at WoodenTwist is crafted with meticulous attention to detail. From hand-carved wooden accents to precisely stitched upholstery, our artisans ensure that each piece meets the highest standards of quality and design​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Integrating Chaise Lounges into Your Home A chaise lounge can enhance the functionality and aesthetic appeal of any room in your home. Here are some ideas on how to incorporate a chaise lounge into different spaces:

Living Room: Create a cozy reading nook by placing a chaise lounge in a quiet corner of your living room. Pair it with a floor lamp and a small side table to complete the look. A chaise lounge can also serve as a focal point, adding elegance and sophistication to your living area​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Bedroom: Enhance your bedroom by positioning a chaise lounge at the foot of your bed or near a window. It provides an ideal spot for reading, relaxing, or enjoying a moment of solitude. Choose a design that complements your bedroom decor, whether it’s a classic tufted piece or a sleek modern style​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Home Office: Add comfort and style to your home office with a chaise lounge. It offers a perfect place to take breaks, brainstorm ideas, or simply relax. The combination of comfort and elegance can make your workspace more inviting and conducive to productivity​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Outdoor Spaces: Transform your garden or patio into an outdoor oasis with an elegant outdoor chaise lounge. Pair it with weather-resistant cushions and throws for added comfort. An outdoor chaise lounge is perfect for lounging by the pool, sunbathing, or simply enjoying the beauty of your outdoor surroundings​ (WoodenTwist)​.

The Evolution of Chaise Lounges The chaise lounge has undergone significant transformations throughout history, adapting to changing tastes and design trends while retaining its core appeal of comfort and luxury.

Ancient Civilizations: The concept of the chaise lounge began in ancient Egypt, where it was a symbol of power and luxury. These early designs were functional yet elegant, crafted to provide maximum comfort for the elite​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Classical Influence: The Greeks and Romans further refined the chaise lounge, making it a central piece in their homes. The Romans, in particular, used the chaise lounge for dining and socializing, reflecting its importance in their daily lives​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Renaissance and Beyond: During the Renaissance, the chaise lounge became a symbol of artistic expression and luxury. French artisans in the 16th century created ornate designs that became popular among the aristocracy, setting the stage for its continued evolution in design and functionality​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Modern Adaptations: In the modern era, the chaise lounge has adapted to contemporary tastes while maintaining its classic charm. Today, it is available in a wide range of styles, materials, and colors, catering to diverse preferences and home decor styles. Advances in manufacturing and materials have also enhanced the durability and comfort of chaise lounges, making them a timeless choice for any home​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Conclusion A chaise lounge from WoodenTwist is more than just a piece of furniture; it is a blend of timeless design, exceptional comfort, and superior craftsmanship. Whether you prefer the classic elegance of traditional designs or the sleek lines of modern aesthetics, our collection offers something for every taste and interior style.

Explore our range of chaise lounges at WoodenTwist and discover the perfect piece to elevate your home decor. With our commitment to quality and craftsmanship, each chaise lounge is designed to provide the ultimate in relaxation and aesthetic appeal.

[telegenius]

Tips to Choose The Right Spring Outdoor Patio Furniture

Here is a complete this website guide to help you know how to choose the perfect spring outdoor patio furniture.

It’s getting warmer, less rainy and we’re slowly clambering our way out of our dwellings and into the light for what always feels like the first time in 3 years. That’s right, it’s spring, and that means one thing. It’s time to prepare for our welcomed, albeit brief British summertime.

That also means having somewhere to actually enjoy the sun when it does shine. You don’t want to face the disappointment of running to your back garden, hoping to enjoy the sun only to realise all there is to sit on are those warped plastic garden chairs you got 5 summers ago. No, this guide will tell you how to choose the perfect spring outdoor patio furniture because you deserve better.

Here’s our brief patio furniture buying guide.

Know your materials

One of our best tips to select spring outdoor furniture is knowing your patio furniture materials and what each one means in terms of long-term ownership. Choosing between hard plastics, metals and woods will determine the aesthetic appeal of your outdoor patio furniture, the comfort afforded by them and how much maintenance is involved. Choosing the perfect spring outdoor furniture starts here.

Plastics and metals are generally cheaper and less maintenance than woods, but they sacrifice aesthetic charm and comfort - not something we recommend (as you can see pictured). If your budget allows it, we’d opt for a higher quality wood such as mahogany or grade-A teak for the perfect balance of looks, luxurious comfort and little to no maintenance (high-quality woods are higher in natural oil and rubbers, protecting them from rot, insects and general wear).

Complement your surroundings

Second in our patio furniture buying guide is matching your furniture to your environment. This sounds obvious, but many of us see a stunning furniture set in the catalogue or showroom, get it home and realise it sticks out like a Victorian broken thumb.

If you have a contemporary setting, opt for more angular and minimalistic designs (avoiding anything with ‘Lutyens’ or ‘classic’ in the name) or go for a lovely rattan patio furniture set. For conservative environments, opt for scrolled arms, lattice backrests and deep, supporting seating positions.

Wooden patio furniture is particularly adept to each environment due to its high variability in designs. Be sure to go in with an idea of what would best suit your current landscape.

Don’t overdo it

We’ve all bought things on impulse before. It’s hard to avoid. Emotions take over reason as you’re presented with something which is simply too good to be true, which is often the case. Shopping for the perfect outdoor patio furniture is no different.

Always begin shopping with a list (yes, a written list) of exactly what you’re looking for, this way you won’t be sold into a patio furniture set that is far too large for your space, one which is a knock off of the your dream set (though you still paid premium prices), or one which will be way more maintenance than you were prepared to undertake. Think long term.

Study your seller

Particularly true if you’re buying premium garden patio furniture, this may be one of the most important tips in our patio furniture buying guide. Like any sizeable investment, it pays to know who you’re buying from and what their reputation is after you’ve made the purchase.

[rockingfurniture]

Ultimate Comfort Unveiled: Discover the Perfect Adirondack Glider Chair for Relaxing Outdoors

Are you in search of the ultimate comfort while relaxing outdoors? Look no further! The Adirondack glider chair is the perfect solution for those seeking a blend of comfort, style, and tranquillity. In this article, we will explore the features and benefits of the Adirondack glider chair, including its superior design, durability, and the luxurious experience it offers. So, sit back, relax, and let's delve into the world of the Adirondack glider chair.

Introduction: The Adirondack Glider Chair

The Adirondack glider chair is a masterpiece of outdoor furniture that combines the classic Adirondack chair design with the soothing gliding motion. It offers a seamless gliding experience, allowing you to sway back and forth effortlessly while enjoying the great outdoors. Whether you're unwinding on your patio, basking in the sun in your garden, or spending quality time with loved ones on your deck, the Adirondack glider chair provides the perfect spot to relax and rejuvenate.

The Evolution of Adirondack Chairs: Introducing the Glider Chair

Building upon the success of the traditional Adirondack chair, furniture designers recognized the desire for a smoother gliding motion. The Adirondack glider chair was born, incorporating a gliding mechanism that adds an extra dimension of comfort and relaxation. This evolution allows you to gently sway back and forth, creating a soothing experience that helps melt away stress and tension.

Design Features that Enhance Comfort and Durability

Adirondack glider chairs, adirondack chair gliders, and Luxcraft adirondack chairs incorporate various design features to ensure optimal comfort and long-lasting durability. These include ergonomic seat contours, wide armrests for resting beverages or books, and sturdy construction that can withstand outdoor elements. Additionally, some models feature adjustable backrests and footrests, providing customizable comfort for a truly relaxing experience.

Comfort and Ergonomics: A Seating Experience Like No Other

The Adirondack glider chair is engineered for unparalleled comfort. Its curved backrest follows the natural contours of your spine, promoting proper alignment and relieving pressure points. The wide armrests provide ample space for resting your arms and holding beverages or snacks. With its smooth gliding motion, you can effortlessly relax and unwind for hours on end.

Materials Used in Adirondack Glider Chairs

Adirondack glider chairs are available in a variety of materials to suit different preferences and environments. Traditional wooden glider chairs exude rustic charm and are often made from durable hardwoods like teak or cedar. For those seeking low-maintenance options, synthetic lumber glider chairs offer the same timeless appeal with added weather resistance and longevity.

Weather Resistance and Durability: The Adirondack Advantage

One of the standout features of Adirondack glider chairs is their exceptional durability and weather resistance. These chairs are designed to withstand the harshest outdoor elements, including rain, snow, and UV rays. The materials used in their construction are chosen for their ability to resist warping, fading, and rotting, ensuring your glider chair remains in pristine condition for years to come.

Customization Options: Personalise Your Glider Chair

While Adirondack glider chairs are designed for minimal maintenance, a few simple steps can help prolong their lifespan. Regular cleaning, applying protective finishes, and storing the chairs during harsh weather conditions will ensure they remain in top-notch condition. Follow the manufacturer's guidelines for care and maintenance to keep your glider chair looking beautiful year after year.

Maintenance and Care Tips for Adirondack Glider Chairs

While Adirondack glider chairs are designed for minimal maintenance, a few simple steps can help prolong their lifespan. Regular cleaning, applying protective finishes, and storing the chairs during harsh weather conditions will ensure they remain in top-notch condition. Follow the manufacturer's guidelines for care and maintenance to keep your glider chair looking beautiful year after year.

Enhancing Your Outdoor Space with Adirondack Glider Chairs

The addition of Adirondack glider chairs can transform any outdoor space into a relaxing oasis. Whether you have a sprawling garden, a cozy balcony, or a spacious patio, these chairs blend seamlessly with various settings. Create a cozy reading nook, a conversation corner, or simply a spot for contemplation and connection with nature.

Tips for Maximising Relaxation in Your Glider Chair

To fully immerse yourself in the comfort of your Adirondack glider chair, consider these additional tips:

Place a soft cushion or outdoor pillow on the seat for extra plushness.

Use a cosy throw or blanket for chilly evenings.

Set up a small side table within arm's reach to hold books, drinks, or snacks.

Surround yourself with potted plants, flowers, or a small water feature to create a serene environment.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the Adirondack glider chair represents the pinnacle of outdoor comfort and relaxation. Its seamless gliding motion, ergonomic design, and durable construction make it the perfect companion for enjoying the beauty of nature. Whether you're seeking solace after a long day or gathering with friends and family for a memorable outdoor experience, the Adirondack glider chair is sure to exceed your expectations.

[teackcraft]

Teak Folding Arm Chair

Revel in your outdoor patio with our two-piece set of Indonesian Premium Solid Teak wood exterior folding arm chair collection. This sophisticated design paired with its excellent quality teak wood will surely illuminate any type of space. You can make your outdoor decoration outstanding with wood folding chair for garden or you can use it as a dining chair.

[anantradingpvtltd]

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RESTAURANT FURNITURE GUIDE: HOW TO CHOOSE COMMERCIAL OUTDOOR FURNITURE

 Our patio serves as an extension of your establishment. The same care and consideration that went into designing your indoor dining space should go into designing your outdoor dining area. While there are many decisions to be made when designing an outdoor restaurant, restaurant patio furniture should be your first priority.

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Commercial patio furniture is designed to make your outdoor dining area more comfortable and functional. Furniture, on the other hand, comes in a wide range of configurations, styles, colors, materials, shapes, and so on.

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Do you intend to regularly host outdoor events and seat guests at a patio dining set with tables and patio arm chairs? Or do you want your patio to be a social gathering place, complete with small tables for games and snacks and a couple of restaurant patio chairs with seat cushions? Are you putting together a hardwood deck, poolside, garden, or patio?

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[imjeralee]

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 9 - Leon in Love?

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

Extra Note: How tf am I at chapter 9 lol...reader and Leon still ain’t together yet either

Leon in Love?

…

…

[Headline from The Kalos Telegraph:

"Mystery of the Laverre Town Disappearances." Police are appealing after two individuals were reported missing from an address in Laverre Town. A well-known Pokemon Researcher and his five year old daughter has vanished under mysterious circumstances, leaving behind his wife and eldest daughter. Inspector Chris Graves has said: “If anybody sees these two individuals or knows where they are I would ask that they call police immediately."]

…

…

With the Mimikyu safely captured, you explain to Leon and Hop that you had a client from this morning who complained of a haunted doll and left it with you; the doll itself must have switched with the Wooloo plush which you believe should be still at home. You apologise profusely but they tell you everything is all under the bridge and as long as Hop isn't hurt, everything is fine and dandy.

You're left to keep Mimikyu for yourself because Leon doesn’t seem to want the killer doll anywhere near his little brother so you will deal with it later and you will need to give Hop the actual Wooloo plush...

The evening progresses and you go downstairs with Hop, Leon, Charizard and Gengar, making your way into the yard where a strong and smoky smell wafts in the atmosphere and the grill is sizzling loudly, huge puffs of smoke billowing in the air.

Leon’s mum stands with a pair of tongs in hands and an apron that says ‘License to Grill’, flipping chicken wings and ribs over the griddle whilst the grandparents are setting up the table. Hop immediately heads over to assist whilst Charizard and Gengar make their way to the garden where Wooloo is, lounging near the garage. It looks like Charizard is showing Gengar around.

You and Leon head to the table; there are plenty of dishes ranging from potato salad, pasta salad, assorted fruit, guacamole and tortilla chips. Hop helps himself to some chips along the way and immediately his grandpa barks at him but Hop chuckles and grabs another before he scampers away to the kitchen with Wooloo at his heels.

He returns with two large pitchers of orange juice and water. Leon goes to help and whilst you attempt to trail after them, everyone tells you that you are their guest so Leon pulls out an empty chair for you and you thank him, his face growing red as you neatly sit down on the chair.

You watch as he goes to help Hop, his mum and his grandparents, observing their dynamic and think about your own family.

The thought makes you sigh gently and your smile vanishes and you slide your forlorn gaze to the ground which Leon notices as he emerges from the kitchen.

Whilst Hop sits between the grandparents, Leon goes to help his mother again though he does occasionally throw you concerned glances every now and then but now you are engrossed with watching the pokemon; Gengar and Charizard are basking under the sun on the mini battle court whilst Purrloin and Wooloo chase each other playfully. You watch as Purrloin crouches on her front paws with her hindquarters in the air, shaking her tail before she pounces on the little sheep playfully.

And when Leon sees you smiling at the pokemon, he smiles too.

Eventually, Leon’s mum waltzes towards the table with a large platter full of barbecued ribs, sweetcorn, a few sirloins teaks and the wings and moves to sit at the very head of the table whilst Leon seats himself beside you. It’s a small, cosy table and your arms brush against each other. The close proximity has your heart thumping hard again.

“Help yourselves!” Leon’s mum exclaims and you glance at all the food available, unsure where to begin.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Hop belts out joyfully as he grabs a knife and fork, “Thanks, mum!”

“Yes, you’ve truly outdone yourself this time,” says grandmother, and Leon’s mum snorts under her breath and rolls her eyes.

“Thanks, mum, this looks great,” Leon says.

Now it's your turn to show your gratitude. “Thank you, Mrs-“

“Please, you can call me ‘mum’,” says Leon’s mother with a smile aimed at you, and you blush and nod.

Everyone begins to pile up food on their plates; Leon’s mum helps Hop and the grandparents tuck into their bland oatmeal but scoop the occasional guac whilst you glance around the table inquisitively, wondering what to try first. Everything looks delicious.

“I’ll help you,” Leon says, as he grabs a spare tong, “What would you like?”

“I’d like some chicken wings and some of the steak. Maybe some of the guac, too.”

“Excellent choice, my dear,” says grandmother, winking at you.

Leon begins grabbing the food off the platter and sliding them onto your plate as cleanly as possible. He unexpectedly gets some sauce on his fingers which he licks off. You cannot help your staring, but he does not notice. Holy crap, does Leon have a secret kinky side to him after all?

“Thank you, Leon,” you say with a weak smile, trying not to be too affected by how his lips enclose over his fingertips.

“No problem. Try some of the Vespiqueen Honey on the wings,” Leon passes you a bottle of squeezy honey and pulls the lid off, handing it to you which you hold upside down; you drizzle some of the orangey-gold gooey goodness over your pile of wings.

“That looks good.”

“Try it with ribs next.”

“Okay.”

As though oblivious to the rest of the people sitting at the table, Leon’s mother and the grandparents watch your interaction with amused expressions before they exchange wide grins at each other.

“You’re the first girl our Leo has brought home. You must have made quite the impression on him,” grandma says all of a sudden, chuckling under her breath.

“Grandma….” Leon mumbles, and he chooses to take a big sip of his sparkling water whilst Hop merely beams at grandma and they both exchange a high five.

The conversation continues, with Leon’s mother mentioning how you saved Leon and how indebted she is to you but you tell her she doesn’t need to repay you in any way. Then they ask you how you and Leon met. Leon’s face goes pink and you suppose he’s thinking about how he bumped into you half-naked in the middle of the forest somewhere in the Rolling Fields at night but then you recall you had actually met him earlier.

“We sat beside each other on the train to the Meetup Spot,” you say.

“We did?” Leon looks confused.

“Yeah, I think you were sleeping though so you didn’t notice but I saw you at the station. You ran past me.”

“Oh.”

"Then we met again in the Rolling Fields."

"My dear, do you know what this means?" gran says, leaning forwards in her seat, "It's fate."

Whilst Hop chews noisily on his food, glancing between you and his brother, Leon’s mum and the gran exchange more all-knowing looks coupled with some eyebrow raising and it’s rather obvious that they are quite possibly up to something and they ask how you found him in the Pokemon Den but Leon steps in, telling them that you rode on Charizard who went to look for you when he went missing.

“Lee, didn’t you say that if Charizard lets a girl-" Hop begins, but Leon shakes his head immediately and Hop pauses in his sentence, eyes wide, “Oh, uh…Never mind!”

“What?” you ask, only for the brothers to grin widely at you. They resemble each other when they smile, it’s rather adorable…

Grandma says, “And what do you work as, dear?”

“I’m a Pokemon researcher, specialising in ghost-types.”

”That sounds grand. You must get to see so many interesting Pokemon.”

”I certainly do. I also deal with a lot of hauntings. Did you know there are several types of hauntings? There’s residual, intelligent and poltergeist,” you say. Now that ghosts have been brought up you can’t seem to stop. “Residual hauntings are described as a video playing over and over again at random times. It’s believed to be trapped energy or an imprint because something traumatic happened at that location and thus it is bound. It’s not considered an intelligent haunting which I’m going to go onto next, but it’s widely believed that something can trigger it to occur such as day or time.”

”Now, an intelligent haunting,” you continue, oblivious to your audience and if they are actually listening, “is associated with a consciousness. For example, the consciousness of a dead person and therefore it’s more the most common type of haunting which investigators like myself would look into and it’s a lot more common than one would think.”

”And a poltergeist haunting,” you’re still outlining as you busily cut into your steak, “people are under the impression that they are malevolent ghosts, usually demons, and they’re very violent, throwing things around and attacking people and-“

You finally stop when you realise Leon’s family are staring at you with incredulous expressions and even Leon himself, is watching you mutely.

There is a brief silence as your cheeks go red with embarrassment.

”Ah........ sorry, I got carried away. Ahem.”

Leon’s mum breaks the silence, laughing awkwardly but you feel the atmosphere of the table has become severely gloomy all of a sudden...and it's all because of you and your talk of ghosts. “That’s all very interesting, my dear. Do take care of yourself. And what do your parents do?” she asks.

“They’re ghost-type Pokemon researchers too."

“And where are they right now?”

You hesitate to answer and all eyes land on you. “…They’re...they’re uh…” you struggle to reply, clinching your fork tightly. Leon notices as your expression gradually grows more and more uncomfortable. “It’s hard to explain.”

Leon’s mum asks, “How so?”

“Mum,” Leon says, and she gasps.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you say quickly, “They went missing."

"Missing??"

You nod and suddenly, the table goes quiet. You’ve never told Leon this either so he glances at you in surprise as you stare at your plate of uneaten food. Suddenly, you have lost your appetite even though you were hungry earlier.

It continues to be quiet and awkward around the table as Leon’s family throws each other discomfiting glances, knowing that they've put you in an awkward position.

However, you clear your throat and flash a reassuring smile at everyone, cutting into your steak as delicately as possible. “It was a while ago. I haven't stopped looking for them since," you reply.

“My dear, I am so sorry,” Leon’s grandmother reaches over and squeezes on your hand, “Is there anything we can do?”

You shake your head.

The conversation gravitates away from you and you inwardly breathe a sigh of relief. You haven’t been on the spotlight for such a long time that it was fairly intolerable. Leon begins to peek at you at random intervals; he's hoping to be subtle but you can tell when someone is staring at you, and as the dinner continues, you don’t look at him nor does he say anything to you and vice versa.

The barbecue is over and all the leftover food, dirty plates and cutlery are carried into the kitchen to be washed.

You volunteer to clean up but Leon’s family assure you once again that you are a guest and they want you to spend more time with the champion. You are left on your own devices but when you are about to pass the kitchen, you accidentally overhear Leon's mum inside.

"Is she okay?" Leon's mum asks, "She has sad eyes."

Sad eyes? You have....sad eyes?? You weren't aware, and you tiptoe away from the kitchen and back into the yard to ponder how on earth to get happier-looking eyes. Maybe you should smile more? Arceus, you have no idea...

You return to the outdoor table and Leon emerges from the house and to the yard, snapping you out of your miserable thoughts when he tells you he has something to show you so you head back into the house and retreat upstairs.

He takes you to the top level and into the hallway where he jumps an inch or so off the ground and grabs a little string that is dangling off the ceiling and tugs on it; it is looped to a square hatch on the ceiling and he pulls it down, revealing a rope ladder that will take you to the rooftop.

Leon climbs up first which you are grateful for considering you are wearing a dress, and when you are at the top rung, he gives you his hand and you slink your little palm into his and he hoists you up onto the roof. There are several pairs of flip-flops the family uses whilst walking around the roof, and Leon hands you a pair which you slip over your feet whilst he slips on a pair of his own.

"How's your hand?" he asks.

"It's healing, so all good," you mutter, and you can’t help but notice that your hands fit well together, though his palm is considerably larger, your fingers curl together neatly, his thumb sweeping over your knuckles.

When you unintentionally give him a squeeze, you’re surprised to feel that he squeezes your hand back. His palm is a little sweaty however, and you wonder if he’s held hands with a girl before.

Leon carefully makes his way around the roof, holding your hand along the way. You’re suddenly aware of how high you are as you tread over the bumpy, uneven surface; you briefly peer over the ledge, you see Charizard below with Gengar, who are vigilant in case either of you should lose balance and fall.

Although it’s dark outside now, you can see that Leon’s cheeks are fairly pink as he leads you over to a clean spot.

He finally releases your hand to sit down and you join him, settling yourself carefully and tucking your dress underneath as neatly as possible. The rooftops grants a beautiful view of Postwick and Wedgehurst as you sit side-by-side; you can see various Wooloo and Dubwools in the fields being herded into barns by farmers for the night. Their white wool makes them stick out like sore thumbs in the darkness.

The air has grown extremely chilly now and your dress isn’t helping you here so Leon quickly pulls off his sweater to loop the thick fabric around your shoulders and over your back. As you thank him, this thoroughly reminds you of the time when you watched the sunrise together.

You and Leon stare over the horizon; a blanket of darkness sweeps the sky, illuminated by the stars and the lush full moon. Down below and you see rows and rows of little lights emitting from the windows of the cottages that are spread out. You can also see Wedgehurst train station whose clock face is lit up with a tawny glow. It’s incredibly serene and tranquil here and you sigh under your breath.

”Leon?”

”Yeah?”

”Am I a kook?”

He immediately emits a loud laugh at your question. “No!”

”But... when we were having dinner...”

”You’re passionate about your work which we can see, and I admire that. Don’t forget that I’ve seen you work, remember? There are things out there that can’t be explained and you’re the only one who’s dedicating their time and energy and effort to look into it. No one is as brave as you are.”

Your lip wobbles furiously at his words. “Thank you, Leon. For a second there, I...I doubted myself, believing I am not normal. I’m far from it."

Leon offers you a reassuring smile. “If the Champion of Galar thinks you’re wonderful and perfectly normal and fine the way you are, then you are.”

Your face grows red in response as he shifts his gaze to the night sky.

Leon thinks you are wonderful and perfectly normal...

...and fine just the way you are.

Your heart begins to thump hard as you thank him whilst emitting a meek sniff.

“I'm sorry about earlier,” Leon suddenly mutters, “I hope you didn’t feel pressurised.”

���It’s fine, it’s normal that people get curious whenever it’s to do with my family, and I haven’t spoken about them for a while.” you reply, sighing, “And it didn't happen at the same time by the way."

As you focus your gaze to the starry sky above you and pull your knees to your chest, Leon watches you worriedly; he copies your movement, lifting his knees to his chest too.

"It was my father and Rosie first, then my mum disappeared a few months later."

Leon senses your discomfort and says, “What can I do to help? I can speak to the Chairman, we can do a television broadcast, radio or-"

You respond with a weak smile, shaking your head. "None of those are going to work, Leon."

He looks confused. "Why not?"

"A lot of people think they're dead so they refuse to help me but I don't believe them and so I've been working hard to get them back since I moved to Galar, and I'm doing everything I can. I'll get them back myself. Only I can do it."

Noticing your saddened expression, Leon isn’t sure what else he can say to ease the situation nor does he know if it’s wise to press you further on this matter. Therefore he slowly moves to slide his hand over yours, grasping your fingers tightly.

You glance at his hand over yours in surprise and he takes a deep breath before he says, "I have an idea. I know what will cheer you up.”

“What?”

“A ride over the Slumbering Weald,” Leon says, before he lets go of you to stand and takes a small step towards the edge of the roof.

“Leon, be careful.”

He turns to you with a grin, “I’ll be fine -- hey Charizard, you there, buddy?”

A few seconds later, Charizard appears before him in the air. He greets you two with a snort, air puffing from his nostrils before he lands in front on an empty spot over the roof, his claws crunching under the hard tiles and he folds his wings, throwing his gaze to the two of you.

With a grin, Leon climbs on Charizard’s awaiting back and holds his hand out to you. “C’mon.”

You tug your spare bobble off your wrist to tie your hair into a tight ponytail before standing up and carefully making your way until Charizard reaches for you and bites on the hem of your dress, pulling you forwards.

“Alright, alright…” you utter, wondering what he is so impatient about but it seems he wants you to be as close to Leon as possible.

The champion grins haplessly at his friend and you slip your hand into his; you assumed you’d sit behind him but Leon suggests you sit in front of him and you do so anxiously, swinging one leg over Charizard’s back and with Leon’s help, you’re quickly seated comfortably over the flame pokemon.

“Comfy?” Leon asks, and you nod. “Okay, let’s go.”

He proceeds to inch even closer to you than possible as he lean forwards and levies his weight gently over your back and shoulder, you have no choice but to lower yourself to a somewhat forty five degree angle so he can reach and grab onto Charizard firmly, caging you within his arms securely at the same time.

“Oh my…” you croak out, as Leon settles himself behind you, his chin almost touching your shoulder.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as his sturdy chest presses smoothly against your back and you feel the light, feathery brush of his lips by your ear; your heart begins to thump frantically and you gulp the growing lump in your throat.

“What’s the matter?” he asks; you hope he doesn't notice.

“Nothing. So uh, how many miles per hour can Charizard reach?”

“Over a hundred or so, I think, but we’re gonna go nice and slow today, won’t we, buddy?”

Charizard snorts and rolls his eyes again as Leon pats his neck and the flame pokemon takes off from the rooftop with a kick of his hind legs and soars into the air.

“To the Slumbering Weald, Charizard!” Leon exclaims, pointing to a massive cluster of misty, foggy trees in the distance.

Charizard has allowed you to ride on his back before but it’s worse with Leon seated closely behind you and speaking so smoothly in your ear. It’s a nerve-wracking and tense ride and as the pokemon picks up speed and zooms towards the direction of the woods, Charizard deliberately flies into a thick batch of clouds and you squeeze your eyes shut as the wisps smack you in the face. When Charizard emerges, you cough and splutter from the moisture of the cloud.

Charizard is purposefully making the flight bumpy and so you cling on for dear life; as you're jostled for the third or fourth time, which forces an anxious squeak from your lungs and Leon's chest to press further over your back as he ensures you're fine; then he carefully slips one arm around the front of your waist to prevent you from slipping or losing grip, sending uncontrollable tingles to shoot down your spine. This is either the ride of heaven, or hell.

Soon, the pokemon settles for a smooth and slower pace so your gut can unclench. Leon notices your calmer disposition and grins. “Not used to flying, are you?”

“N-not really,” you choke out, when you realise he is unfazed.

You have to admit you prefer the Corviknight taxi over this. There is less turbulence, that's for certain.

And as you gradually relax, your fingers don't cling onto the Pokemon's leathery skin so tightly and Leon's arm loosens in grip, though you were getting a little used to having his arm around you. His warmth was so welcoming and made you snug, and now you're slowly becoming cold.

Whilst you wonder how long the ride will take, the Slumbering Weald looms into view; a misty and muggy fog hangs over the bizarre forest and down below, you can see Galarian Weezing and Munna lurking in the dark grass.

Charizard glances around for a suitable spot to land and when a large but broken stone arch and an altar surrounded by water appears in the horizon, he begins to descend and lands within the spring, nestling himself carefully over the ground; Leon slides off Charizard’s back and scoops you off, sliding his arms around your waist.

“Thanks,” you murmur as he helps you onto the ground.

“No problem. How was the flight?”

“All good," you say meekly with a thumbs up, though you're really wanting to suppress the urge to hurl.

Leon grins and pats Charizard warmly, “Thanks bud.”

Charizard growls loudly with affection as the two of you glance around your new surroundings.

Strangely enough, the temperature here is warmer than Postwick and although you most certainly are alone here, the woods feel alive.

The stone arch stands proudly before you with a glistening stream of water to your left, the altar itself is illuminated by a beam of moonlight that shines between the leaves of the thick trees that surround it. Despite the beautiful scenery, the quietness of the woods perturbs you.

“Look,” Leon says, and you follow to where he is pointing to.

Glittering pearls of multi-coloured light float gently in the atmosphere within the middle of the altar and you head over to inspect; you use your fingertip to prod at some of the lights and there is a faint chiming sound as it disappears once your fingertips make contact, vanishing into mist.

“I know what this is…It’s a fairy light…” you mutter, peering at the little lights curiously before you cup some in your palm and return to his side.

“Fairy light?” Leon utters, as you open your palm and blow gently, the light sprinkling over his face and hair. He looks up and around as it gets caught in his bangs and you giggle lightly.

“Yeah…they're very similar to a will o’wisp and they're identical to the lights emitted by Morelull. You can see a lot more in Ballonlea and in higher concentrations…” you say as you raise your arm, hold your hand out and more lights settle into your palm, “If you follow a trail, it’s supposed to lead to the fairy folk of Galar.”

Leon looks intrigued as you continue your ramblings, oblivious.

“The fairy folk steal children away, never to be seen again. Sometimes it’s out of malice, to punish neglectful parents… but in the end, what they do with the children, nobody knows. It’s a shame I don’t come here often because there’s so much interesting myth, though unfortunately not ghost-related.”

Holding your hand out again, the little lights settle in the base of your palm once more and you gently blow them away, sending an array of glittering lights into the air. You smile widely as the shimmering lights dance around you, the twinkling lights casting a warm glow on your face.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you murmur as the lights gently float in the air, dancing around you.

“Yeah…” he breathes out.

When you turn round, you see his eyes are glued to your form and you tense on the spot; anxiety sweeps over you upon realisation that you’re completely bathed in the light and thus you hurriedly step away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble about fairies stealing children away. Just make sure Hop doesn’t come here on his own, or he might come back but it’s not really him, it’s actually a changeling and-” you promptly stop yourself in time, mentally kicking yourself. “Sorry.”

Leon chuckles loudly in response and your face grows warm as you nervously place your hands behind your back whilst Leon crosses his arms. “I can take you here again tomorrow when it’s daylight if you’d like,” he replies.

You purse your lips. “I’ll be asleep, most likely.”

“Oh.” he sounds disappointed.

“Thanks for bringing me here though. I feel better now.”

The look of disappointment vanishes from his handsome face, replaced with a grin. “Of course! Anytime.”

When your smile broadens, his grin widens too and you are both gazing at each other wordlessly; his eyes search your face for a few seconds or so until you realise that you’re staring and you hastily break off the eye contact, swerving your gaze to the side where you see more of the little pearly light surrounding you.

“Oh, uh, I have something to show you,” Leon adds, before he fumbles through his pockets and brings out two capsules, “Come on out, guys!”

Tossing them into the air, you stare as an Aegislash and a Dragapult emerge and Leon beams at his pokemon as they immediately head over to him, greeting him affectionately. Leon gives Dragapult a hefty pat on his head and smiles warmly at Aegislash.

“I have some ghost-type pokemon on my team,” Leon says, “I thought you’d like to meet them.”

You blink blankly before a massive grin appears on your face. You’ve never seen such wondrous critters in person, and so close, too! “I didn’t know you had an Aegislash and a Dragapult, Leon.”

Leon chuckles bashfully at your enthusiasm, then introduces you to the pokemon and they float over to your side curiously; Dragapult sniffs you and the two Dreepy’s it carries in it’s horns float out and peer at you enquiringly before they decide to slink around your arms and shoulders, making you giggle as they weave in and out of your hair and over your neck and cheeks.

Aegislash offers you his lilac ribbon which you are about to touch until Leon quickly grabs your hand albeit gently.

“Be careful….he might drain some of your life force,” he warns.

“Oh, that’s okay, I don't mind, it would be good for an experiment,” you reply, as he slowly releases you, “Leon, this is amazing. Aegislash are known to stay loyal to people who have qualities of a true leader. They’re also featured in historical paintings depicting kings.”

Leon’s face grows red as he contemplates your words, “…I’ve had him since he was a Honedge…”

He’s being modest again, which makes you smile and Leon responds with a wide grin of his own.

Aegislash proceeds to circle you inquisitively whilst Dragapult slinks around and tickles the tip of your nose with his transparent tail.

“Thanks for showing me your pokemon, Leon. I can tell they’re very well-cared for.”

Leon flashes you a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

As you return his smile, Leon holds your gaze once more and you’re both staring at each other until Charizard snaps the both of you out by emitting a loud huff, indicating that it’s time to leave which relieves you of this strict tension you have constantly experienced between yourself and the Champion.

“It’s getting late. We should head back,” Leon says, and you nod.

After he recalls his pokemon, the two of you hop onto his back once more and you leave the vicinity of the woods.

Charizard carries the two of you safely back to the front door of his house. Checking your wristwatch, you decide to head home. The pokemon allows you to hop off his back and Leon helps you, holding your hand tightly in his once again. You briefly enter the house to say goodbye to his family and to pick up your belongings before Leon escorts you outside.

“I had a great time,” you say as Gengar greets you before jumping into your shadow, hitching a ride. “I wish we could do this more often. It’s a shame you’re booked out for the rest of the year.”

Leon hesitates before he replies with a rather despondent, “Me too.”

“Well, uh…I better go now. Thanks again for having me over. Goodnight.”

“Wait. I’ll walk you,” he says quickly before you can leave the doorstep and you glance at him questioningly as he quickly grabs a hooded jacket off the coat rack and throws it on, then he steps out of his house and shuts the door quietly behind him. Leon recalls Charizard and rushes up to you with his hands in his pockets, grinning.

You give him an awkward smile and you begin the walk; he stays close to you, much like how he did in the hospital despite the ample space of the empty path, your shoulders bumping together.

Once you reach your house, the lights are on and you stop at the front door and slowly turn to him only for you to almost bump into his chest. He’s standing so close to you...

“Thanks for walking me back,” you squeak out, and he takes a step backwards as though aware of your close proximity.

“No problem.”

”Will you make your way back okay?”

”Yeah, Charizard will help.”

“Oh, cool. So I’ll see you again…someday?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, before he reaches for your bandaged hand and you stiffen when he clutches your palm tightly with his, curling his fingers tightly around yours before he brings your entwined hands to his chest.

“…Leon?” you breathe out, eyes wide.

“Charizard told me what happened. I won’t forget what you did for me,” he says softly, and you hold your breath. “I wanted to ask if…you would like to see the sunrise with me again?”

Your breath becomes stuck in your throat but you manage to croak out, “Tonight?”

He’s still holding your hand, which he grips with far more pressure than before, “Ah, um…not tonight, but some other day.”

“Oh…sure, I’d love to.”

He seems delighted with your response. “Thanks. I better go back now. Goodnight.”

“G-goodnight.”

With a huge grin, Leon releases your hand and proceeds to rush off, dashing down the path until he is out of sight. You open the door clumsily and stumble into the house, your heart racing as you remove your coat and hang it on the hook.

“Hey, you’re back! How was it?”

Looking up, you see Sonia at the stairs, holding Yamper under one arm.

“It was good,” you reply, and you outline the details briefly albeit skipping the part about Leon falling on top of you and your short trip with him to the Slumbering Weald. Overall, you had fun and you can’t stop smiling, which she notices of course.

She giggles and retreats upstairs whilst you head up to shower and get changed into your nightwear; you also decide to slap on a cucumber mask too because your skin's looking rather pasty and dull. Returning to the living room, you see Gengar lounging around with Poltea and Cutie and you remember you had captured Mimikyu.

With Mimikyu’s capsule in hand, you let it out and Mimikyu emerges; it’s two little glowing eyes blink up at you and your pokemon (Gengar in particular), before it dashes behind the coffee table to hide.

You watch as Poltea and Cutie head over and they briefly communicate with it, coaxing it out of its hiding place. It’s still using that hideous doll disguise and you carefully step forwards; once you spy it hiding behind one of the table legs, it starts hissing threateningly at you.

“Hey Mimikyu," you murmur in a gentle voice as you crouch before the small pokemon yet it continues hissing, the twinkling dots underneath the ruined fabric glowing brightly with apprehension. “I’m sorry we ruined your hair and costume. How about I make you a new one?”

It ceases to hiss at you and blinks. “…Mi mi?”

You nod with a smile, “Of course.”

Lowering your arm, it takes a small step forwards and then hops onto your elbow where it’s as light as a feather and you look at it and it looks at you before you smile; though it lets out an indignant huff under it’s breath, you carry it out of the lounge and into the bedroom, opening the door where you see Sonia at her vanity table, brushing her hair until she spots the ragdoll and shrieks.

“W-what is that?!”

“It’s a Mimikyu,” you say with a wide grin, “I’m going to make it a new costume. Can I borrow your sewing kit?”

“Sure…” Sonia watches with widened eyes as you head over to your cupboard and pull out a drawer where you keep some old clothes you can depart with.

“What do you think?” you ask.

“Hmm…Mi mi mi,” it says with content, nodding.

“Go crazy,” you reply, and Mimikyu glances at each of the shirts curiously.

“Mi mi,” it replies, before its stitch mouth splits apart to unleash a long and black, shadowy tendril and making it point to a grey shirt. Sonia stares at this appendage as she inches her sewing kit towards your direction.

“This one?” you say.

“Mi,” it replies, nodding.

“Don’t you want to look like Pikachu?”

It shakes its head. “Mi. Mi mi mimikyuuu.”

“You prefer your ragdoll disguise?”

“Mi,” it confirms with a stern nod.

“Got it,” you take out the grey shirt and thank Sonia for letting you borrow her sewing kit, then Mimikyu spots your scissors, along with a ball of black yarn near your stationary tub and grabs those using two shadowy tendrils and you both make your way downstairs.

Seating yourself on the lounge, you let Mimikyu hop off and sit beside you on the couch before you switch on the TV with your feet up. Mimikyu takes the fabric off you with several shadowy tendrils along with the scissors and begins snipping away, singing to itself in various octaves.

As Mimikyu hands you the trimmed fabric, you look at the expert handiwork. Mimikyu must be used to fixing it's costume, and you open the sewing kit and take out some grey thread and a needle and begin sewing the fabric together. Occasionally, it will help you by using a shadow tendril to hold the fabric in place whilst you sew together a finicky part.

You occasionally throw glances to see how Mimikyu is doing before you recall that no-one has ever seen what Mimikyu looks like underneath its disguise. One scientist even died from shock, apparently.

Therefore you slowly reach a hand and pinch one small corner of the ragdoll body with your fingers and attempt to look inside only for Mimikyu to slap your hand away in the span of a split second with a shadowy tendril.

“Ow!” you retreat your hand and cradle it to your chest as Mimikyu wags one clawed finger at you in a chiding manner. “Sorry…I won’t do that again."

"Mi!"

"Yes, I know I could've died."

Suddenly, the phone rings and Rotom flies over to you. “Leon izzz calling!” he exclaims gleefully and you sit up properly in your seat.

“Leon???” you utter in surprise and Rotom nods as he switches to video mode and you see Leon on screen, grinning at you.

He’s in his nightwear consisting of a white t-shirt and black joggers and when he gets a look at you in your nightclothes and cucumber mask, the grin widens.

“H-hi Leon.”

“Hey!” he greets you cheerfully, “Sorry to call you so late, but Citizen Kangaskhan is on TV. Would you like to watch it together?”

“Really?” you exclaim, whilst Mimikyu continues singing to itself.

“Yeah, it’s – oh, is that…?”

“Yeah, it’s Mimikyu. I’m helping her make a new costume,” you say with a smile as you glance at the pokemon and Rotom hovers to Mimikyu who looks up.

“Hi Mimikyu!”

“Mi…me hello.”

You feel numerous chills run down your spine, “Bloody hell, Mimikyu, I forgot you could speak some of the human language. I'll need to study you later if you don't mind."

“Mi…heehee," Mimikyu replies happily and Leon chuckles.

“What channel is it on?”

“Sixty two.”

“Alright, let’s watch together,” you grab the remote control and change it to the channel and indeed, Citizen Kangaskhan is playing. You get comfortable as your Rotom settles beside you on the empty seat of the couch.

Together, you watch the movie, with you and Mimikyu sewing the new costume whilst sitting together in the safety of your house, and Leon in his own.

...

[woodentwistblogs]

Embrace the Timeless Elegance of Chaise Lounges with WoodenTwist

At WoodenTwist, we believe that every piece of furniture should embody both style and comfort. One such piece that perfectly captures this philosophy is the chaise lounge. These elegant and versatile pieces have a rich history and remain a symbol of luxury and relaxation. Join us as we delve into the world of chaise lounges, exploring their history, various styles, and how our beautifully crafted pieces can elevate your home.

The Rich History of Chaise Lounges

The chaise lounge, or "chaise longue" as it is originally known, has a fascinating history that spans different cultures and centuries. Its name, French for "long chair," reflects its design purpose: a chair long enough to support the legs.

Ancient Civilizations: The concept of the chaise lounge dates back to ancient Egypt, where these pieces were reserved for the elite. Crafted from materials like palm stalks and woven reeds, these early lounges provided a reclined seating option for relaxation and socializing​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Greek and Roman Influence: The Greeks and Romans adopted and refined the chaise lounge design. The Greeks introduced the "klismos" chair, known for its elegant curves and comfort, while the Romans popularized the "lectus," used extensively for both dining and lounging​ (WoodenTwist)​.

French Aristocracy: In 16th-century France, the chaise lounge became synonymous with luxury and sophistication. French artisans crafted ornate and elaborate designs that adorned the boudoirs and salons of the aristocracy, cementing the chaise lounge's status as a symbol of opulence​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

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A chaise lounge can be a versatile addition to any room, offering both aesthetic appeal and functional comfort. Here are some ideas on how to incorporate a chaise lounge into your home decor:

Living Room: Create a cozy reading nook in your living room by placing a chaise lounge in a quiet corner. Add a floor lamp and a small side table to complete the look. A chaise lounge can also serve as a statement piece, adding a touch of elegance to your living area​ (WoodenTwist)​.

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The journey of the chaise lounge from ancient times to the modern era is a fascinating reflection of changing tastes and lifestyles. Throughout its evolution, the chaise lounge has retained its core appeal of comfort and luxury while adapting to new design trends and innovations.

Ancient Civilizations: The concept of the chaise lounge began in ancient Egypt, where it was a symbol of power and luxury. These early designs were functional yet elegant, crafted to provide maximum comfort for the elite​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Classical Influence: The Greeks and Romans further refined the chaise lounge, making it a central piece in their homes. The Romans, in particular, used the chaise lounge for dining and socializing, reflecting its importance in their daily lives​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Renaissance and Beyond: During the Renaissance, the chaise lounge became a symbol of artistic expression and luxury. French artisans in the 16th century created ornate designs that became popular among the aristocracy, setting the stage for its continued evolution in design and functionality​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

Modern Adaptations: In the modern era, the chaise lounge has adapted to contemporary tastes while maintaining its classic charm. Today, it is available in a wide range of styles, materials, and colors, catering to diverse preferences and home decor styles. Advances in manufacturing and materials have also enhanced the durability and comfort of chaise lounges, making them a timeless choice for any home​ (WoodenTwist)​​ (WoodenTwist)​.

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Explore our range of chaise lounges at WoodenTwist and discover the perfect piece to elevate your home decor. With our commitment to quality and craftsmanship, each chaise lounge is designed to provide the ultimate in relaxation and aesthetic appeal.

[latinmmi]

As in all garden furniture, teak garden furniture is available in lots of designs and types of furniture to choose from. The deep seating conversation sets are cushioned for comfort and strong enough to endure any test. They come equipped with couches, chairs, coffee table and end tables making it the perfect setting for unwinding with family and friends. Additional chairs are likewise readily available with or without arms. Explore more here.

The loungers or the chairs with ottoman will make it easy to delight in the sun. Cushions are available for adding comfort to these chairs, if you want and come in a large range of colour. You make sure to discover the colour that is fitting with your character. Teak garden furniture will be a fantastic asset to any garden, yard, or patio. It will give your garden location a classic appearance of difference.

Create a focal point in your garden, with this inviting teak bench from Charles Bentley which is hand-crafted with an elegant curved design. Built to last, this teak bench features a high back for added support and is made from the finest quality, Indonesian timber which is sourced from sustainable plantations. With plenty of space to seat up to three people, this strong and durable teak bench, will provide long lasting use. This teak bench will create the perfect place to sit and relax on lazy summer days.

[burliforti]

Rose of England

My entry for the Good Omens fanwork exchange arranged by @transarmageddon. I created this based off a prompt from @vecieminde. The prompt that I was most heavily inspired by was “Aziraphale and Crowley exploring an abandoned place which glory days they might have witnessed”. Full disclosure: I am a bit of a history nerd and so one abandoned place turned into many which turned into a road trip across rural England with a pit stop in Wales. At certain times I veered a bit further from the main prompt than I was hoping but I hope you still enjoy! (About 9.5K and no warnings apply. I’m having a beta review it and then I’ll probably post to AO3) Heavily inspired by the Vera Lynn album “Rose of England” (I am bad at titles and simply borrowed that.) Definitely recommend a listen, it’s a wonderful album. Fic under the cut.

Prologue: London

It had been three weeks since the very last day of the rest of their lives. Not surprisingly, in the aftermath of perhaps the most chaotic week in all of creation Aziraphale and Crowley had been having some difficulty slipping back into their old routines. The sudden lack of oversight was a relief but left them both with a degree of freedom that they weren’t quite sure what to do with. Crowley no longer had to plan elaborate schemes to generate widespread low-grade evil and Aziraphale found himself without his usual laundry list of miscellaneous miracles and holy interventions, leaving both with a sudden and dramatic increase of spare time. Heaven and Hell had, apparently, taken their warnings to heart and had left them alone. 

They managed to slip into parts of their old routines. Aziraphale would go out to lunch in small french bistros and read Virginia Woolf in the plush reading chair in his study. Crowley had continued to scheme for a time out of habit but eventually tapered off to random pranks and messing with people who drive below the speed limit on highways and members of parliament. His house plant hobby had flourished into a full horticulture obsession. The apartment whose predominant palette had been black and grey for several decades now found itself green, green, and green. He wasn’t really one for flowers, preferring varieties such as ferns, ivy, and more recently, mosses. Crowley had acquired an impressive and wide array of mosses, spanning continents and centuries, quite literally finding himself with the only remaining iteration of certain ancient mosses (Crowley’s imagination did not know that these had gone extinct. He simply remembered soft, curling greenery on teak trees and there they had appeared). 

Aziraphale had also picked up a few hobbies. He had a tendency to do so. Dancing, magic, prophecies. They weren’t exactly phases (for he did still truly enjoy all of these things), but Aziraphale had a meandering mind that was always eager for new knowledge. Recently, he had come across an antique store looking for any interesting books. Instead, he had left the premises with a vintage camera that stood on a wooden tripod, that by all accounts should not have been able to work anymore, but miraculously, did indeed take photos. This began a new collection of vintage cameras and various other photographic contraptions. He particularly enjoyed taking pictures of nature (trees were much better at sitting still than wily serpents who would fidget and blur the images). Eventually, Crowley bought him a polaroid camera. He was annoyed of being forced to sit still for the negatives and dealing with Aziraphale hauling his many apparatuses on their walks. The polaroid was a bit newfangled for Aziraphale’s taste, but he enjoyed not having to develop negatives and being able to immediately see the images. Crowley did not mind this hobby as much as he had others (nothing could be worse than the magic. As long as taking photos of birds and elms prevented Aziraphale getting into card tricks or whatever nonsense than he would limit his complaints.) Yet even as they settled into old routines and found new ones, both beings found themselves on edge despite the apparent resolution to most of their problems. You see, Aziraphale and Crowley were bored. And Aziraphale had just the idea. 

“A vacation?” Crowley replied as they sat in St James Park, sitting on a bench watching the ducks bob in and out of the water. 

“It’s been so long since we left the city. Not since all that nonsense, and even that was barely two hours outside London. Before you mostly got around for work, and since our, well, retirement, I don’t believe either of us has really traveled much. Thought it might be a nice change of pace.” 

“And where exactly were you thinking?”

“Oh, nowhere in particular. Although there are a few sites that I’d like to revisit. It’s been so long since I properly traveled. Human beings have created some truly marvelous places.”

“Destroyed just as many too.” 

“And then rebuilt. I’m sure even you have an old spot or two you wouldn’t mind revisiting.”

Crowley paused, considering this with a great amount of reluctance. “I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve been ‘round the countryside.” He replied, begrudgingly. 

Aziraphale’s face lit up in a bright smile. “Splendid! I suppose there is no point in waiting around. I’m already packed, I will see you at the shop tomorrow, bright and early!” 

Crowley looked at him in disbelief. “Tomorrow?!” 

Rochester Castle

Crowley did arrive early, although it wasn’t a particularly bright October morning. He pulled up in his Bently and had hardly gotten out of the car when Aziraphale burst through the shop door, hauling a large two-piece antique luggage set and two vintage cameras.

Aziraphale flashed a brilliant smile “Good morning, dear boy!” Crowley walked over to Aziraphale and grabbed the luggage out of his hands. “Let me take that.” Aziraphale let him take the bags and took the cameras in both arms. “Why, thank you.” Crowley dragged the luggage toward the Bentley. “What on earth do you have in here? You’ve been wearing the same outfit for over a century.”

“Books, mostly. Some light reading I’ve been meaning to do.”

“Hardly light,” Crowley complained, lifting the luggage into the trunk with great difficulty. Aziraphale carefully laid out the camera equipment in the backseat, with the exception of the polaroid which he kept in a small camera bag over his shoulder. Crowley slammed the\trunk and sauntered over to the drivers side.

“So where are we off to, angel?”   

“Well I didn’t want anything too adventurous, and I know you’re hard-pressed to leave your vehicle. Perhaps a week or two, just in the countryside. Breath of fresh air, maybe even revisit some old favorites?” 

“Fine by me.”

“And I thought it best to start south and work our way up. What do you think?”

“Any destination in mind?” 

“Oh, not really. It’s been so long since I’ve been that farther south than London.”

“Ever been to Rochester Castle? Less than half an hour from here.”

“Rochester? Off the Medway? Shouldn’t that be at least an hour– Crowley slow down!”

They arrived 40 minutes later. Aziraphale was not incorrect in that it should have taken an hour and Crowley had also not been mistaken in that it could have been merely half an hour, but at Aziraphale’s continued pleas of “Slow down Crowley!” they had met somewhat in the middle. Luckily tourist season tended to slow down this time of year. The employees of the estate had kindly left them to their own affairs. Aziraphale had picked up a brochure and was reading it as the two of them explored the keep. 

“They say it had originally been given to Bishop Odo, probably by William the Conqueror.” 

“Never met him.” 

“Oh you weren’t missing much, I didn’t find him to be particularly charming. Although it is possible that I insulted him upon our first meeting. Never could wrap my mind around french. All that gender and tense. Feminine chairs and male houses, utter nonsense.”

“I believe houses are also feminine.”

“My point! Completely arbitrary. And the tenses, what language needs nine different types of past tense? They live such short lives I don’t see the point.” 

Crowley let Aziraphale rant as they continued to stroll along corridors and in and out of almost accurate historical reimaginings of bedrooms and parlors. Crowley hadn’t been to Rochester Castle since the Peasants’ Revolt in 1381. He really had absolutely hated the 14th century. He had gotten so fed up, in fact, that he had whispered in a handful of ears of ‘injustice’ and ‘revolution’. He hadn’t had much of an end goal in mind, just anything to shake up that dreadful century. It hadn’t really gone anywhere, unfortunately. He didn’t see much of Aziraphale that century, not with the war and the plague. Such a bore and with awful fashion. It had been such a relief when the Renaissance properly took off. 

“You’ve been awfully silent, Crowley.” 

He quirked an eyebrow over his glasses. “Let’s go to the gardens.”  

They made their way into the Castle’s exterior and into the gardens that encircled the estate. English roses, bright Dahlias, twisting ivys, and sweetly scented Begonias dominated the courtyard. Aziraphale was enjoying the vibrant colors and heavenly floral perfumes while Crowley glared critically at pests and withering leaves. 

“I think this is going to be a marvelous holiday.” 

Crowley wandered over to one of the bushes and picked one of halfway decent begonias, sauntering back over to Aziraphale. He walked directly in front of him and stopped just shy of the other man. 

“If you say so.” He replied, pinning the flower to a blushing Aziraphale’s lapel. 

“Oh, no need for all of that.” He said waving his hand toward the plucked stem. An even more vibrant flower bloomed in its place.  

“So,” Crowley asked, returning to his place by Aziraphale’s side, “where to next?” 

Bodiam Castle 

Aziraphale had asked one of the local historical guides, who suggested Bodiam Castle, which was an hour south of Rochester Castle near Robertsbridge in East Sussex. She had also suggested a local family run pub for lunch. Aziraphale had given Crowley a wide-eyed look to which Crowley could only roll his eyes and say “Yes, yes alright. It’s your holiday, angel.” Aziraphale had taken note at some point of the increase of Crowley’s use of ‘angel’ to describe him. He had subsequently filed away the observation to ‘thoughts that need no further introspection or deliberation’. They ate (or Aziraphale ate) a slow and peaceful lunch. He seemed to enjoy his fish and chips and was particularly impressed by the tartar sauce (homemade apparently, an old family recipe). The batter was also very pleasant but he didn’t much care for the chips. Crowley picked a few off of his plate absentmindedly. They ate mostly in silence, Aziraphale enjoying the fish and Crowley enjoying Aziraphale. 

They continued on their journey, arriving in Robertsbridge in significantly less than an hour (much to Aziraphale’s terror). Aziraphale had in fact once visited Bodiam Castle, many years ago during the war of the roses. It had been abandoned in picturesque ruins for decades but had been restored in the early 20th century. Crowley and Aziraphale explored the property. While the exterior had been well preserved, the interior was now in ruins. 

“It had been quite nice when I had visited. I was presenting as a clergyman on the road back in those days, you know. Made seeking shelter much easier and people would listen to me, which was quite helpful on certain occasions.”

“I imagine it explained all those Bibles you carried with you.”

“Well yes, I suppose that’s true.” 

“There is still a beauty to it now, albeit a different sort of beauty.”

“Seems like regular old ruins to me.” 

“You don’t feel any sort of, oh I don’t know, whimsy or appreciation?” 

“I don’t really go in for whimsy, angel.”

They continued to explore for quite some time, Aziraphale taking full advantage of their solitude and the picturesque ruins by taking many photographs, both with the antique camera on a tripod and the polaroid. Aziraphale had started off carrying the larger camera but Crowley had soon taken over after a passing mention of discomfort by Aziraphale. They made their way outside, strolling along the edge of the moat as the sunset. 

“Oh, what a beautiful sky it is tonight. Crowley, do you mind putting down the camera? I’d like to get some photos, lighting is simply marvelous.”

“Not like we’ve seen the sunset a million times already. The same sky and the same sun for 6,000 years.”  

Aziraphale ignored him, setting up the camera into the correct position. The tripod was close to the water's edge, overlooking the horizon. Aziraphale watched the sky change from red, orange, and yellow to deep purple and pitch black from behind a camera lens. Crowley watched Aziraphale burn brilliant in a fiery sky to softly glowing in the moonlit night.   

Tintagel Castle

Crowley suggested the next location: Tintagel Castle. It was quite a ways away on the southwestern coast but he insisted that the view was worth it, and besides it had been ages since either of them had been to the Celtic sea. It was by far the longest drive they had undertaken so far. A direct route would have taken five hours (perhaps three with Crowley behind the wheel), but Aziraphale had asked if they could drive past the channel on the way there and Crowley wasn’t exactly in the habit of denying any request or desire the angel had. With the scenic detour, the drive should have been close to 7 hours but ended up closer to five anyways, accounting for a lunch break.

Aziraphale was able to manage (tolerate, more accurately) Crowley’s breakneck speeds on the lonely country roads. Rolling hills with the occasional grazing livestock and farmhouses turned into rocky cliffs and blue-grey waters. Aziraphale enjoyed the picturesque landscapes and lack of the usual urban chaos, while Crowley enjoyed the lack of other vehicles and an open road where the speed limit was hardly a thought. They hadn’t talked much, Aziraphale occasionally putting on a CD (he didn’t quite grasp the concept at first but he was getting the hang of it.) Most of the disks had been left in the car and forgotten for more than a fortnight, and Crowley could only tolerate ‘We Will Rock You’ by Benjamin Britten or ‘We Are The Champions’ by Handle so many times. Thankfully, he had remembered to bring in some CDs from the apartment that had yet to become a compilation of Queen’s Greatest Hits. Aziraphale preferred classical, so they listened to Bach, Vaughn Williams, Holst, and various other (although predominantly British) composers. They were listening to Simple Symphony (actually by Benjamin Britten) when Crowley finally slowed and pulled into a half-full parking lot. Luckily the castle and surrounding expanse were quite large and the two could easily keep away from any crowds.

They explored the ruins of a castle for a time, Crowley relaying stories of his time in Richard of Cornwall (both from his time in the castle and during the Barons’ Crusade. Aziraphale had been preoccupied at the time by some work further west in Southampton.) Eventually, the crowds started to bother both of them and they naturally wandered away from the ruins and over the large bridge. 

“You know I rarely made it out to this part of the country, but it’s quite lovely.  The view is spectacular.”

Crowley squinted and peered upwards towards the gathering clouds. “Looks like it might rain.”

“Oh, I’m sure it would only take a slight miracle to ensure clear skies until the end of our visit. I was thinking for after– oh!” Aziraphale’s eyes went wide as the unfortunate combination of a strong gust of wind off the sea and a damp patch on the footbridge made him stumble and lose his footing. Before he could find purchase on the guard rails he felt two hands reach out and grab his arms, helping him upright. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley who in turn looked down at him in concern. 

“You alright?” 

Aziraphale laughed nervously, brushing himself off. “Oh yes, I’m quite alright, just taken a little off guard I suppose…” He trailed off. There hadn’t been any danger really, the footbridge had quite a high railing and Aziraphale had wings for heaven’s sake but peering down at the cold water crashing up against the stony cliffs made his head spin for a moment. “Thank you.” He finally said. 

Crowley made a noise of displeasure in return, “Can’t have you being discorporated middle of your vacation abandoning me in Cornwall of all places.”

“Our vacation. Besides, you suggested Tintagel.” 

“Ngk.” 

Neither of them made the first move, remaining stationary on the footbridge for another beat. 

“You can let go of me now, Crowley.”

He looked down at his hands which were indeed still wrapped around the other's arms. His cheeks turned slightly pink as he let go, refusing to look at the other as they continued on.  

Glastonbury Abbey 

Aziraphale insisted they stop by Glastonbury Abbey the next day, tentatively starting northward. 

“I’m shocked you never made it out there yourself back in the day, dear boy. Frightfully important, I can recall quite the drama and importance for quite a long stretch of time. Second only to Westminster.” 

“I avoided abbeys as a general rule. Parishes, monasteries, cathedrals, whole lot of them. Not exactly my scene.”

“Shame really, some truly exquisite architecture. The food wasn’t exactly top-notch, but some of the better dining from that era at any rate. I’d imagine you’d be quite fine now, been in ruins for centuries.” 

The sky was clear and blue, the grass a vibrant green. There were a few tourists who were wandering about the grounds but left the two beings be. They wandered through the decrepit cathedral, ceiling completely gone and missing good portions of the walls. While Aziraphale doubted that any previous blessings were still in place, Crowley was wary and remained outside of the ruined Holy buildings. 

“It really was quite a marvel. I had the occasion to visit on a number of occasions throughout the centuries, sent here quite often for holy interventions, miracles, enlightenment, heavenly visions, the whole nine yards as they say. You’re sure you never made it over here during, well, the Arrangement?”

Aziraphale quieted at the last two words. He had always been much more prudish, more embarrassed regarding their previous understanding. Perhaps it was because Crowley had much more experience rebelling and bending rules, but if they were being honest with themselves (although they rarely were), Aziraphale also had a fair bit of experience bending rules, he was just more adept at making excuses for it and felt much more guilty about it afterward.  

“Nope. Besides, I believe the heyday of the great Abbeys predated our agreement.”

“I suppose that’s true. Those old Catholics enjoyed their drama. I tried to stay out of it mostly, politics was never really my forte. I recall having to give a vision to one of the old Abbotts back in the 12th century. Something about inspiring a new sermon, I can’t quite recall.”

Crowley made some noise to indicate that he was still listening (which he was in fact doing. He liked to put up an air of indifference but he always listened, and Aziraphale knew this.) 

“You know I was able to get a first edition of “On the Antiquity of the Glastonese Church”? Signed by William of Malmesbury. Wonderful historian, and splendid company. He had a terrific collection at the Malmesbury Abbey and was kind enough to give me a number of his books, all with signed inscriptions. Later in his life, he was kind enough to gift me some of the notable works in his personal collection. His second edition of Gesta Regum Anglorum is a classic.”

Aziraphale continued to ramble on as they explored the Abbey grounds. Crowley listened quietly but intently. Their conversations usually involved both of their active participation but Crowley had never minded whenever Aziraphale would stumble into his ramblings. They occasionally reminisced, exchanging amusing stories and recounting shared adventures, but on that rare but treasured occasions a topic would arise and Aziraphale could literally talk for days on end, one story spilling into the next. Crowley’s original thought to describe it had been cute, but that couldn’t possibly be it.     

“It’s impressive how long these have stayed standing, even if they have fallen into a bit of disrepair.” Aziraphale finally quieted, inviting a response from Crowley. 

“‘Spose. They always did like to show off. Always obsessed with posterity.”

“And these are hardly the oldest, even just in England. And we’ve been there for all of it.” Aziraphale spoke softly, his eyes unfocused as he gazed far beyond the old Abbey. Crowley glanced at him. He had a tendency to be sentimental after these long trips down memory lane. Crowley himself had never quite at the proclivity for the sentimental. 

“And they’ll keep building places of worship and keep writing history books. Come on, I saw a sign for a nearby for an italian restaurant, we’ll grab you some lunch.” 

Bath 

After lunch, they drove a bit farther north to the city of Bath. This had been the largest city they had visited so far. They stopped by bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the town, preferring the larger space, quiet countryside, and easy parking it provided. They took the day to explore the city, visiting various historical sites. They walked by the Abbey (although they did not venture inside as a courtesy to Crowley), Pulteney Bridge, strolled down Royal Crescent, popped briefly into Holburne museum but quickly left when Aziraphale got fed up with the minor inconsistencies and incorrect speculation. They continued their walk and eventually came across a beautifully restored Georgian home with a bronze plaque that reads: 

Here lived William Herschel 

A.D. 1781 

and a sign above that that read ‘Herschel Museum of Astronomy’. It looked to be mostly vacant, which made sense seeing as it was about 2 o’clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday during the school year, with the peak of the tourist season being a few months behind them.

“Oh, I remember that fellow. Quite the eclectic man; astronomer, biologist, musician, and composer, though if memory serves his scientific career fared better than his artistic one. I saw the premiere of his eighth symphony and you know, I really did enjoy it. I’m not sure why he’s been relegated to the background of classical composers. I suppose now it’s so strongly dominated by Mozart, Haydn, Shubert, and a few other fellows that it didn’t leave much room for others. Truth be told I think Haydn might be slightly overrated. You write 107 symphonies but only a handful are noteworthy in any way. You knew him, didn’t you? I recall you hanging around with the Royal Astronomical Society for a time before sleeping through most of the next century.” 

Crowley hummed in acknowledgment. “Yeah, hung around with that lot periodically end of the 18th century. He and his sister, Caroline, pushed the field miles forward. Shall we head inside?” 

Crowley held open the door for Aziraphale and they headed inside the quiet Georgian household. They handed over a few pounds to the receptionist who put a little stamp of a planet with stars on each of their right hands.  They quickly passed through exhibits pertaining to more recent events, preferring to linger in the sections that focused on Herschel and his discoveries. 

“I liked him. Quite sharp. Corrected a few older discoveries, which I appreciated. It was annoying having to sit through some of those Royal Society lectures calling some of the star clusters nebulae. He and Caroline discovered and cataloged a boatload of nebulae, clusters, comets, the like. Nice to finally have your work properly appreciated after nearly 6000 years. We used to gossip about the bores over at the Royal Society and I helped get Caroline get a paid position at the government. I mean why would they be paying him but not her?”

“That was very kind of you, Crowley.” 

He made a face of displeasure in return, “Hardly. If she hadn’t been employed who else would have discovered my comets and cataloged my nebulae? Quite proud of those, you know, and no one there to appreciate all my hard work. ‘Oh look at the beautiful waterfalls, the beautiful forests’, please. Hardly any craftsmanship in a waterfall. Some rocks and a river. But a planetary nebula? A red dwarf? Combustion, gravity, electromagnetism, a delicate balance of helium, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and however many other elements. When old Will finally got that telescope of his up and running, the look on his face when he saw them all, it was like finally, someone can appreciate some true artistry. I will say the nerve of those two constantly referring to it as ‘the heavens’. Heaven wished it looked like that.”

Aziraphale looked wistfully at a newer photo of the butterfly nebula. “You know, during all that time it took humans to properly observe the cosmos, I appreciated it. All the stars and nebulae, pulsars and supernovae. I wasn’t able to get out much personally, but I was lucky enough on a few occasions. It was breathtaking. And on earth, we can see much farther than they can, even with some of their telescopes. I’ll spare a glance here and there when I get the chance, and it really is unparalleled.” Aziraphale stopped, still looking firmly at the nebula in front of him. He spoke softer this time. “Dare I say it, maybe even more beautiful than anything here on earth.” A pause. His head turned slightly towards Crowley and met his eyes beneath the shades. “Or rather, almost anything.” 

Crowley’s head snapped violently back towards the image, not daring to look back at Aziraphale. Earth had been almost entirely God’s pet project, the vast majority anyways. Some details had been relegated to other angels. But the earth had always truly been Hers. Aziraphale’s proclamation of the superior beauty of the cosmos was… a lot to process. Not to mention the meaning of the angel’s pointed glance at him. It was a bit too much for Crowley. He coughed, still not meeting the other’s eyes. 

“Off to the Baths then?” 

Kenilworth Castle 

“Kenilworth, now this is a real castle,” Crowley said, picking away at the grapes on the fruit platter. They had driven north from Bath that morning, exiting the South West and entering into the West Midlands. Crowley accompanied Aziraphale to a hearty breakfast before their departure. They continued to avoid the main roads, Crowley speeding through old dirt roads in the countryside. Aziraphale would point out every herd of sheep, every single baby calf, every mangy looking old goat while a look of utter delight and whimsy. He had become completely enamored with the countryside and Crowley was beginning to worry about how he would ever get him back to the city. 

“Oh look at those horses! There’s a small black foal, isn’t it just darling? Shall we stop by to say hello?” 

Crowley glowered at the animals that were grazing the field they were driving past and pushed down even harder on the gas in response.

“You’re no fun, my dear.” 

“Awful creatures. They smell, they buck, they attract flies, painful as all hell to ride, and generally terrible. Not even properly evil, just badly designed and poorly executed. The automobile is definitely among the greatest human inventions along with alcohol and sunglasses. Shame when they stopped making glue out of the bastards.” 

Aziraphale smacked him (not so lightly) on his arm, “Crowley! What an awful thing to say!” 

“What? They deserve it.” 

“My goodness, what on earth did horses ever do to you.”

“What didn’t they do? Centuries of sore buttocks, horse flies, and manure. The smell, Aziraphale, do you remember it? The streets were absolutely disgusting, it’s no wonder I stayed inside for most of the 18th century.”

“I think you’re being too harsh on them. I find them quite majestic.”

“Nothing majestic about your teeth taking up more room in your skull than your brain.” 

“Well, I quite like them.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Suit yourself, angel.”

They continued north for another hour or so, eventually stopping in Stratford-Upon-Avon to pick up some food for a picnic (actually Crowley’s suggestion) and to pay respects to an old friend. They continued on, taking many detours, arriving at the castle just in time for lunch. Crowley pulled out a picnic blanket from the trunk (whether it had been there the whole time or if he had just miracled it then, Aziraphale didn’t know. Regardless, he was touched by the gesture.) He laid it out under the shade of a nearby Ash tree that grew just a bit outside the central keep. 

“Yes, it had its fair share of excitement back in the day.” Aziraphale agreed. 

“Came to see King John here once. What a prick. That whole family was a mess. Richard and Henry weren’t that awful in the grand scheme of British royalty, although that’s quite a low bar. Oh, but John, totally insufferable. I was supposed to tempt him into rebelling but the bastard was already scheming before I got there, and not very well mind you. Didn’t bother helping out when it failed, I didn’t really feel like getting involved.” 

“I accompanied Elizabeth here a few times. Very intelligent woman, difficult life though. Popped in every-so-often to lend her a helping hand. I remember tutoring her briefly when she was a child. Incredibly bright and kind for a child of her age. The crown hardened her considerably, but who could blame her.” 

“Oh yes, she was a feisty one. One of the few British royals I had any respect for at all, although she still had her fair share of flaws, but who am I to judge?” 

They continued to eat, somehow always remaining in the shade despite the passing of hours. Aziraphale was usually quite silent when he ate, his mouth constantly full with the next delight Crowley had packed away into the wicker basket, so Crowley took it upon himself to fill the silence by recounting his many tales of Kenilworth and the events surrounding it, sprawled out on his side, one arm supporting his head. 

“You know the tennis balls had been my idea. I had meant it as an insult but I think Henry overreacted a little bit.”

Aziraphale paused his enjoyment of some shortcake, “At least we got a good play out of it.” 

“Fair enough. The old Bard never really bothered with historical accuracy but I didn’t mind with him. Made it better usually.” 

“I’d be inclined to agree.” 

Eventually Aziraphale had had his full and pulled out a book, leaning up against the Ash. Crowley moved closer, laying down beside him. 

“What are you reading?” 

“The Anabasis of Alexander.”

“He was a drama queen.” 

“This is a classic.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Aziraphale ignored him and pulled out his reading glasses. Crowley had never said this out loud, but he loved Aziraphale’s reading glasses. The glasses were practically ancient, picked up sometime during Crowley’s respite in the 19th century. He didn’t need them, and Crowley didn’t know why he wore them. A fashion he had picked up? Perhaps he simply enjoyed the completion of his ‘old bookkeeper’ look? At any rate, Crowley never complained when Aziraphale opened a large tome and took out the spectacles. He looked up at Aziraphale; ‘Cute’ he thought. There that word was again. The glasses made Aziraphale look intelligent, sophisticated, extremely out of date, and certainly not cute. Or at least, that’s what Crowley thought (or did he?) 

“Read a bit for me. I’m sure it’ll put me right to sleep.”

The angel huffed at the minor insult but settled in closer to Crowley anyways. The demons head was up against his thigh, arms at his side and legs bent upwards. There was a gentle warm breeze and songbirds that flew in and out of the ash. The sun was bright and hot but they were cool and comfortable in the shade, both subconsciously leaning into the warmth of the other. 

“In Ecbatana, Alexander offered sacrifice according to his custom, for good fortune; and he celebrated a gymnastic and musical contest…”

Plas Newydd

They stayed the night in Kenilworth after allowing themselves the luxury of a lazy afternoon followed by a warm meal at a local pub (in this part of the country, most options for dining out were pubs). The next morning they took the Bentley further northwest, crossing the border into Wales. The signs changed into a jumble of consonants and seemingly misplaced vowels. 

“I haven’t been to Wales in so long. I adore the people here, very charming folks. I do hope my Welsh hasn’t fallen out of shape, it has been quite a while.” 

They drove down the old country roads, Crowley for once not doing nearly double the speed limit, perhaps as a courtesy to Aziraphale or maybe because even he couldn’t bring himself to disturb the sleepy atmosphere of the small villages they passed through (although the most likely cause was simply extending their time on the road. He enjoyed the peace and solitude he shared with Aziraphale while they rode in the Bentley.) 

Aziraphale looked quizzically down at the map they had picked up in Shrewsbury. “I believe you take a right up here, dear boy.”

“Hope you aren’t getting us lost in the Welsh countryside, angel. All these villages look the same to me.” 

He looked up from the map and up to the signs with arrows on the side of the road, “No, we’re still in the correct direction. My navigation skills were unparalleled back in the day, I’ll have you know. Served on a privateer ship for a number of months and guarded over an exhibition or two back in the age of explorers.”   

Crowley looked up at the signs, recognizing one of the names, “Off to Llangollen then, are we?” 

Aziraphale looked over to him surprised, “You’ve heard of it?” 

“Visited it to, a couple of centuries ago.” 

Aziraphale looked delighted, “So you must have met the ladies then! Can’t imagine what else would bring you to the north-eastern Welsh countryside. I never realized you made it out to see them.” 

“Yeah, I visited them a handful of times while traveling between London and Dublin. Eleanor and Sarah. Haven’t thought about them in quite a while. Kept hearing about them and got curious.” 

“They were a delightful pair, wonderful hosts too. Elenor and I would sit in the parlor and discuss the recent literature. Poets, in particular, seemed to be drawn to Plas Newydd and most had left behind a copy or two of their work. I recall walking around the estate with Sarah and exchanging thoughts on current events. They were both surprisingly insightful despite their isolation.” 

“Bit too fond of horses for my taste, but I could respect how they rebelled against the system. Caused quite a stir for a while, and I enjoy good gossip. The scandal, the outrage, pretty funny if you ask me. Had a few interesting chats with them over tea.”

 What Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t realize is that on multiple occasions, they had both shared details of each other to the ladies of Llangollen. Crowley and Aziraphale were both singular personalities in their own way and it had not taken much for the two ladies to connect the dots between both ‘men’ (or what both had assumed to be men) stories. Aziraphale had visited them first, introducing himself as a friend of William Wordsworth. He had indeed discussed literature and current events, but sometimes over dinner one evening he had begun disclosing certain details about a dark fellow (certainly not a friend) that Aziraphale was doing business with whom he had some conflicting emotions. Within a year, a dark fellow with bright red hair had strolled up to Plas Newydd and introduced himself as a friend of the Shelley's. They had welcomed him in, but he was much more reserved than some of their previous visitors. However, after a bottle of gin, the stranger was much more open and willing to share some strange stories of his travels. He was well journeyed and quite connected, having stories from famous scientists, authors, criminals, and even royals. After a bottle of brandy had been opened, he started talking about a friend of his, or perhaps more of a coworker. They had known each other for quite some time but in recent years it seemed as if their relationship had developed a few more layers. As he continued to describe the acquaintance, Eleanor and Sarah had both glanced sidelong at each other with the same realization. 

As the two beings came and went, bringing new stories and sharing new details of their other half, the glances between the two women while the otherworldly being relayed their most recent thoughts on the other become more frustrated and knowing. It had been difficult not to intervene but they had both known it was for the best. One day, Aziraphale (or simply “Mr. Fell”) had come to visit. He discussed literature and current events like usual but never seemed to bring up his mysterious coworker. When they asked him about it, his face contorted like he had eaten something sour. They had had a falling out and were not talking to each other at the moment. The two women looked at each other in concern but didn’t attempt to press the issue. 

They had never seen Crowley again. 

Crowley and Aziraphale pulled up to Plas Newydd a short time later. Both Aziraphale’s navigation skills and Welsh had thankfully remained intact despite the disuse. The house had been well maintained throughout the centuries. Crowley purchased admission for them both. It had been turned into a museum a number of years ago, but both of them weren’t focused on the exhibits, sparing only a pacing glance at the displaces and descriptive plaques. Instead, they took in the house itself and the memories that returned to them with each room that they passed through. As they strolled within the many rooms: bedrooms, parlour, kitchen, library, and outside of the estate in the vast gardens and green rolling fields, the two cast sidelong glances at each other, not unlike two Irish ladies from centuries ago. 

Hadrian’s Wall 

They continued north on the same day, stopping for lunch in the village before they resumed their journey. After lunch, before they set off onto country roads, Crowley thought they should pick up some more CD’s. They had burned through most of the ones he had brought in from the apartment, and he was starting to get sick of not only “Killer Queen” but also “Fantasia on Greensleeves”. There was a little music shop in the quaint downtown that sold a handful of instruments, some sheet music, a bin of records, and yes, an assortment of CDs. It was a shame Aziraphale never slept since he had been mostly unable to listen to some of his personal favorites as the other being would be awake for the duration of their car rides. Aziraphale had fallen behind the times recently. Back before the advent of recorded audio, Aziraphale had needed to go out into the world to enjoy music, which kept him fairly up to date with the trends. However, after the advent of recording, Aziraphale had been able to enjoy the pleasures of the symphony from his own home, able to read or eat while he enjoyed the sweet melodies. And so he stopped attending the opera, symphony, or any sort of concert almost entirely. He still got out occasionally, when they were playing Beethoven series or one of his favorite Italian operas, but after the 19th century he was pleased to simply keep returning to old favorites (certain notable examples exist. Aziraphale was a fan of Kafka, Vaughn Williams, Rachmaninoff, Ravel, Bartók, and a handful of others.) He had listened to some ragtime and bebop, but he hadn’t been a fan and had simply abandoned all popular music afterward. Crowley drifted through the aisles but was mostly with content to let Aziraphale pick out the music. He was mostly hovering through the classical section, already with half a dozen new CDs. He wandered through a few other sections before walking back over to Crowley. 

“Nothing for yourself?”

“You seem to have enough already.”

They walked over to the cashier, Aziraphale setting about all of the CDs and Crowley pulled out his wallet. The old woman behind the cash rung up their purchase and Crowley pulled out the exact change out of his wallet. She accepted it graciously. 

“And where are you two from? Don’t get many visitors this time of year.” She spoke with a thick Welsh accent but must have overheard them speaking in english. 

Aziraphale smiled warmly, “London. Just taking a bit of a holiday, driving around the countryside.” 

“Oh that’s lovely. I prefer the weather this time of year anyway. I like the heat, but in the summer, a bit too hot in recent years. My husband and I drove up to Edinburgh back in July to visit our Lizzie for her wedding. We used to travel all over Europe in the summer months. A bit more difficult after the kids but we were able to bring them along when they were a bit older.”

“Oh yes, Edinburgh has become quite lovely in recent years. It’s been quite a while since I’ve visited myself.” 

“Well if you and your husband are continuing north, I would definitely suggest you stop by.” 

Aziraphale went red at her assumption. He sputtered in response. “Oh, um, well yes, thank you for the suggestion.”

She gave him a wide smile, “No need to be embarrassed, dear. Our Lizzie was marrying her girlfriend, Mackenzie, up in Edinburgh. Most people in these parts are quite accepting.” 

Aziraphale could only redden and nod his head. She handed Crowley a receipt. 

“Diolch.” He replied coolly, face unreadable behind the tinted glasses. 

“Cael diwrnod braf!” She replied as they walked out of the shop. 

They were finally back off onto the road. Aziraphale pulled out one of the new CDs. 

“Look what I found, Crowley. I thought you might like it.”

It was a collection of William Herschel recorded by the London Mozart Players. Crowley returned with a neutral grunt of acknowledgment that didn’t convey any particularly positive or negative sentiments regarding the recording. Aziraphale ejected the previous CD and put in the new one. 

“So where are we off to next, angel?” 

“You know, I’m not quite sure. I thought we could just… drive for a bit, and see where we end up?”  

Crowley grinned, “Not your usual style, ‘going with the flow’, ‘seeing where the road takes you.’”

He shrugged in response, “I’ve been trying many new things these last few months.”

And so North they went, out of Wales, up through the West Midlands and into the North West. They continued to bypass the highways in favor of country roads. They drove along the Irish sea, passing by Liverpool, Southport, and Blackpool. At Lancaster, they continued due North towards Kendal instead of continuing along the shoreline. Crowley made most navigational decisions, simply following his intuition. Every so often he would ask Aziraphale for input, but mostly they drove in silence. The angel mostly watched out the window, every so often cracking open the book he had with him. 

After another hour or so, Aziraphale finally perked up.

“Ah.”

Crowley looked over to him, “What?”

He pointed to one of the signs. It read “Hadrian’s Wall” and had an arrow pointing right. 

“We should go there.” 

And so Crowley make a sharp turn to the right, and off they went. 

After only another 10 minutes (Crowley’s maniacal driving had returned in full force), the two found themselves at the base of about a 5ft 2000-year-old wall. 

“Sort of a dumb plan if you ask me.” 

“Hm?”

“Not sure what Hadrian was thinking with this one. Bloody long wall on the fringe of the empire, middle of nowhere? Always seemed like nonsense to me.”

“Perhaps.”

“Next guy pretty much completely abandoned it. Did it ever serve any useful role at any point? Not like it was ever that high in the first place, not sure what he thought he could stop with it. Humanity has found its way across rivers, mountains, and deserts, but oho, not a five-foot wall, that’ll stop ‘em.” 

Aziraphale was setting up his camera. The wall was surrounded by kilometers of green fields speckled with trees that were changing color in the autumn season. There was a small lake about a kilometer down from the stretch of the wall that the two had found themselves at. 

“Sit still, won’t you? You’ll blur the image.” 

Crowley pulled his crossed arms slightly closer in. “Don’t see why you wanted a picture in the first place. Can’t you just get a couple of snaps of the herons over there and be done with it?”

“I have so few photos of you, dear. I’d like a few from this vacation. I’ve had such a lovely time so far. Maybe I’ll make a scrapbook when we’re back in London. Have you heard of those? Came across the idea a few weeks ago and I’ve been meaning to try my hand at it.”

“Don’t see why I need to be in them. Why do you need a photo when I’ll be around anyway? I’ll just ruin your landscapes.”

Aziraphale looked up from the camera and directly at Crowley with a twinkle in his eyes. “You know I think you look positively lovely, dear boy. Now shut up, I want at least one good one.”

And shut up he did. 

Tynemouth Priory and Castle (Edward II and Piers Gaveston + Duel?) 

They found a little country inn in one of the nearby villages. Crowley slept soundly in his single bed while Aziraphale stayed up reading. They ate the continental breakfast that was provided, Aziraphale putting a fair portion of homemade strawberry jam that the owner’s son had apparently made onto his rolls while Crowley enjoyed his cup of Lady Grey. 

“I feel like going to the coast today,” Aziraphale said in between mouthfuls of toast. 

“Which one?” Crowley replied, leaning back in his chair on the outdoor patio. 

“How about the North Sea? We did the Irish Sea, the Celtic Sea seems like the next logical step.” 

“Anywhere in particular?”

“Have you ever been to Tynemouth? There’s an old Priory and Castle. I was there all the way back in the 7th century. Nice little spot on the coast.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been, later though. Briefly in the 14th century, with Edward II.” 

“Well?”

“Fine with me.” 

They left a bit later that morning, going towards the morning sun due East. It was starting to get a bit chillier as they stretched further into autumn and the closer they got to the sea. It wasn’t a long drive by, even without Crowley behind the wheel. Soft piano music that Crowley didn't recognize was coming out of the stereo. It was pleasant, music that sounded like it came right out of a 19th-century parlor. Aziraphale was humming along while he read (a new book, yet again. He seemed to burn through a new one each day.) 

They drove up a hill right beside the coast to the ruins. They were the only ones there when Crowley pulled the Bentley off to the side of the dirt road. They got out in tandem and walked toward the abandoned castle. 

“Long time since I've been around here. I wouldn't mind making a habit of these little excursions.”

“I guess it's not half bad when you avoid tourist season.” 

“You said you'd been here before?”

“Yup, I was briefly a part of Edward II entourage trying to rile up some tensions within the court. You ever meet him?” 

“Unfortunately, no.” 

“Eh, weren't missing much. He and Piers Gaveston had been inseparable. Bit annoying but mostly harmless. Tragic end, but that was pretty common for that lot back in the day.”

“Nobles?” 

Crowley laughed, “Not quite, angel.”

They walked through the main archway. It had obviously changed significantly throughout the centuries, the brick and mortar now exposed to the elements, large chunks were missing and covered in moss, and yet in some ways, it hadn't changed at all. All of the roofs had crumbled away centuries ago, leaving the bright blue sky above them, with clouds blowing in from over the sea and the sun creeping higher into the sky. Birds nested throughout the ruins in little nooks and crannies, perched atop old towers and in between the remnants of windows. 

“I had my fair share of adventures here as well,” Aziraphale remarked. 

“Oh really?” Crowley said playfully, grin on his face. Aziraphale enjoyed the frequency with which Crowley had smiled during the trip. 

“I did return once after the 7th century, mid 16ty century after it was taken over by Henry VIII. Got into a bit of a tiff with a few visiting Italians.”

“‘Bit of a tiff’? What'd you do, get into a heated argument about the marinara sauce?” 

“Don't mock me, old boy. No, we handled the affair like men.” He replied primly. 

Crowley turned to look at him, “You didn't duel them, did you?” 

Aziraphale blushed a little, “It's not my usual style but the situation quickly escalated.” 

Crowley laughed, and it echoed around them. “Did you win?” 

Aziraphale looked insulted, “Of course I won! I wasn't given a flaming sword for no reason.” 

“What was the argument?”

“I can't quite recall where it started but I believe it ended when he called me a son of a bitch and I replied with something along the lines of 'You dare refer to the Lord that way!?' and drew my sword.” 

Crowley gave him a wicked grin, “Would have liked to see that.”

“We should spar sometime. I may be a bit out of shape but I'm sure I could show you a thing or two.”

“Definitely not. I was always rubbish with weaponry. Never really bothered with it. Prefer using my wits, and when a sword was necessary I just got someone else to do it.”

“Maybe I could teach you?” 

The offer was left unanswered, the two naturally returning to a comfortable silence as they continued their exploration of the old castle and priory. It was an old place, humans had been occupying the land for 2000 years, and yet they were still much older. This castle had been in ruins for centuries, and they had been there before, during, and after. They did not feel old within the new metropolises that had popped up in the last century but in the ruins of the civilizations that they outlived by millennia. They were old, but they were old together, and now nothing was there to stop them from being so. 

“Shall we go home?” 

Home. Crowley liked the sound of that when Aziraphale said it. 

“Yeah, let's go.” 

Epilogue: Dover Castle 

They drove south along the coast. Aziraphale had gone through nearly all of the CDs he had acquired in Wales, except one.  

“Vera Lynn? Didn’t realize you were a fan.”

“She had such a lovely voice. They broadcast one her performances on BBC during the war and I bought a record the next day." 

“How modern of you.”

“This one apparently came out this year. I like the cover art. Technology is unbelievable nowadays, over 30 tracks on a single side of this tiny disc.” 

It was later in the afternoon now, Vera Lynn serenading the duo as rolling hills passed them on one side and choppy grey waves on the other. It had been a well-needed disruption in their daily routines, a literal and figurative breath of fresh air. If Crowley was being honest (which he rarely was with himself) he enjoyed spending all this time with Aziraphale. The angel had allowed himself to enjoy their vacation much more openly, but Crowley had enjoyed it too, in his own way. He was old, which he did not care to admit. Humanity had aged him. 6000 years in the pits of hell was nothing, but 6000 years amongst billions of the busiest and most diverse animals on the planet had a way of reminding your how ancient you truly are. Most humans believed that the earth was billions of years old, and that was a length of time that Crowley did not care to imagine. Revisiting all of these old castles and villages reminded him just how much he had experienced already, so much more than any person could imagine, longer than any given human civilization. Up until now, the future had been finite, but now, thinking about all that he could still experience here on earth with seemingly no expiration date was equal parts exciting and terrifying. He looked over at the angel. He kept doing that throughout the trip. Glancing over at Aziraphale in the passenger seat, either reading a book or looking out at the scenery and on one extremely treasured stretch of the drive when he closed his eyes and ‘slept’ (Crowley doubted he had been completely successful in his attempt but it was a marvel to behold regardless.) How many more vacations would they have? How far would they go? The anxiety that had hovered over their previous encounters still loomed slightly, but it was quickly fading with each passing month. Where would they be in a year? He was nervous, terrified even. But looking over at the angel, the knot in his stomach seemed to disentangle itself slowly but surely. 

Aziraphale’s thoughts were significantly less deep. He was extremely happy with how the vacation had shaped up and was excited to plan out the next. He was still ready to be back home in his bookshop, he could only handle so much excitement and travel, but it had been energizing and thrilling in its own way. This trip had reminded him why he had settled in England. For all its flaws (notably the weather. Crowley would have also said the politics but Aziraphale didn’t make a habit of keeping up with current affairs), it was a beautiful country filled with kind and well-intentioned people. And had produced its fair share of good music. He had not listened to Vera Lynn in a while but somehow all those old tunes were still in his head as he hummed along watching the sun descend closer to the horizon. He saw a sign that said ‘London’ and when Crowley did not turn onto it, he looked over at the demon curiously. 

“Thought we’d make one more stop before heading back home. Just a bit further south.” 

Aziraphale was in no rush, so he made no objection. He slid back into his spot up against the window, head perched on his hand. They view slowly grew more and more populated, quaint villages into small towns and then again into cities. Aziraphale closed his eyes, just enjoying the music, enjoying the peace, enjoying Crowley. Even though he was not saying anything the demon's presence was so easily felt. He let himself soak up that feeling and they carried on. They crossed over the Thames and slowly returned to those quaint villages and green fields. The drive wasn’t very long (almost certainly to do with the incredibly dangerous speeds the Bentley had been driving at). They got out of the car and Aziraphale gazed upwards towards the imposing structure in front of them. It was well preserved, in a much better condition than the other castles they had visited. The main keep was surrounded by enormous walls on all sides. The castle itself stood upon a hill overlooking the English Channel. The sun was setting over the water far in the distance. Crowley hadn’t driven them up to the main castle, instead of off to the side closer to the rocky cliffs. 

“Dover Castle, the Key of England.”

Crowley got out off the car without turning it off so the music continued to pour out of the Bentley. Aziraphale followed, meeting Crowley who had walked around the car to his side. “Red Sails in the Sunset” faded out and familiar flute and string orchestra began to play. 

“They’ll be bluebirds over, the white cliffs of Dover.” 

Aziraphale began to blush, “Oh my dear, you didn't.” Except, when Aziraphale said ‘my dear’ the accent was not on the my and full of disbelief or frustration, but on the dear, and was not so much of an exclamation than a term of endearment, gentle and full of care. Crowley would never say it aloud, but he adored the way it sounded out of Aziraphale’s mouth, and especially since it was directed at him. He didn’t respond, instead, leaning against the angel watching the sunset over the castle, which he hoped was in of itself enough of an answer. 

Now it should be noted that ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ was that in fact included in the recording Aziraphale had purchased, but Crowley did not know that and imagined that it must be, and so there it was, just in time. The song (miraculously) matched up perfectly with the setting sun. Crowley (or maybe it had been Aziraphale. Both had slowly drifted into each other as night fell, hands brushing up against the others) slowly slipped his hand into that of his best friend. A quiet display of affection that meant so much as the stars began to emerge from the darkening the sky. 

“Tomorrow, just you wait and see.”    

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