#hudson and haven

[aryburn-trains]

First car is former D&H diner. Chappaqua, NY April 27, 1982

[demisexualnathanvuornos]

Haven 1x1 Welcome to Haven (2010)/ Hudson & Rex 4x12 No Man Is an Island (2022)

Maurice Dean Wint as Byron Howard/Nigel Banks

Patrick Garrow as Conrad Brauer/ John Harper

[power-chords]

There’s a graffiti artist in Westchester who’s been tagging a bunch of pizza restaurants with art of a pizza slice. He’s spray painted something like ten pizzerias so far. He just hit a spot Adam and I have been to on Central Ave in Yonkers and the owner went on News 12 like “I’m kinda into it, actually. I’m gonna keep it.”

[ftwd-the-real-deal]

The Quad Squad

It was formed by Josh Laurence, it was a group of travelers who used their carven to transport from one place to another in order to survive, the group was originally consisted of ten people, then the numbers begun to increase day by day, they had a system that worked, however, nothing good lasts in an apocalypse, the group was attacked by another group, afterwards they were ran down by walkers and only four out of thirty survived.

Joshua Laurence is the one who leads the group, he used to be a marine, very intelligent in combat, he had a fiance who was pregnant with his child, but she died at the beginning of the apocalypse.

Tyler Dallas, he's good in combat but doesn't compare to Josh, he idolizes Josh though, he's a bit of a wild card, used to be a gym instructor, he couldn't reach his family during the apocalypse, he found Josh and stuck with his group, too afraid to go search for them.

Dory Finnick is a doctor, he had a wife, four children and a happy life, when the apocalypse began, his family died of various things, his wife died because she threw herself in the face of a walker to protect her family, the oldest child died out of sickness, the other three out of starvation and dehydration, he's the sole survivor, Josh and Tyler found him barely alive but they helped him.

Fin Hudson worked in IT before the apocalypse, he was a very clever man, he provided for his younger siblings and parents who died mid-apocalypse, he's a force of nature, never backs down and sticks to his opinions, he learned how to fight throughout the apocalypse.

The four men are currently moving from one location to another, desperately trying to survive and meet day's end.

[briansolomonauthor]

Poughkeepsie Crossing

On a foggy evening last week, Kris and I visited the waterfront park at Highland Landing, New York along the west shore of the Hudson River. With my Z7-II firmly mounted on my now antique Bogen tripod, I made a series of time exposures of the famous former New Haven Railroad Poughkeepsie Bridge. The year 2024 will mark a half century since a fire on this mightly span ended railroad service over…

[gorgeys]

I would love a continuation of thirty minutes!!

I didn’t think it would make my heart hurt so much but I did…truly beautiful

crawling back to you ★ santana lopez x fem!cheerio!reader

like clockwork, you come crawling back to santana

part 1

word count: 1700 warnings: SMUT - fingering, kinda angsty again

a/n: thank you anon! i so needed an excuse to keep writing abt my baby

the three knocks on her window are unmistakable and familiar.  santana rolls over and lugs herself off the bed toward the source of the sound.  although she can only see the outline of a shadowy figure behind the glass, santana pushes opens her window without hesitation.

"hey," you say casually, climbing in santana's room before she's even stepped back and made space for you.

"hey.  i thought you were going on a date tonight."

"yeah, we went to breadstix again.  he just dropped me home," you say, plopping onto her bed with a sigh, like you've just come home after a long day of work.  you inhabit her space like it belongs to you.

santana glances over at the digital clock on her nightstand which already reads eleven.  she could've sworn it was seven just a moment ago.

"oh."

she turns and finally notices the blue mini dress you're wearing: tight at the top, but flowy at the bottom.  it pools naturally around your thighs, reminding santana of the robe of an angel.

when you carelessly lean back on your hands, the strap slides down your shoulder and the hem rises higher.  per usual, you're oblivious to santana's attentive and conflicted gaze.  she wants to admire you in all your beauty, but she hesitates.

you're obviously disheveled.  obvious to her at least.

your dress is ruffled in a way that's caused by more than the wind.  your hair is tangled and partially hiding your face.  even behind it, santana can see that the lip gloss you religiously apply is faded and barely smudged at the corner of your lips. 

"how was it?" she tries to ask neutrally, but it's loaded with something spiteful.

you shrug, watching as santana slinks toward you.  she walks around the bed and lies down on the other side.  you follow suit, kicking your shoes off and throwing your legs over her comforter.

"it was fine, i guess," you say, both of you lying on your sides and facing each other.  "he was...nice."

santana fights the urge to roll her eyes.

that's what you always said, like it was the only word you could think of to describe him. 

finn's a nice guy. 

two people in love didn't describe each other as just nice.  how would you describe her?  because she knows how she'd describe you.

"we ate at breadstix.  he paid, of course.  and then we were...going to go back to his place, but his mom was home.  so was mine.  so," you say, absentmindedly playing with messy strands of your hair as if santana wasn't hanging on your every word.  "he just parked his car somewhere, and we climbed in the backseat."

santana's breath hitches and her lips turn downward before she knows what she's doing.

how could you climb into his backseat without thinking of her?  without thinking of her backseat, your safe haven from the outside world?  the place where she had claimed you as hers with three fingers and her lips.  it was the one place that belonged to just the two of you and where finn hudson couldn't reach you. 

well, not anymore.  that all must have meant nothing to you.  or at least it didn't mean nearly as much to you as it meant to her.  did you even feel the difference when you were climbing onto finn's lap instead of hers and letting his stiff hands replace her thoughtful ones?

it's even worse that santana can smell the notes of his cologne lingering on your skin now that she's inches away from you.  if you looked deep enough, maybe you'd see the betrayal buried in santana's eyes.  not that you'd even know to look for it.

"but it was just so...awkward.  he didn't know what to do with his hands and i'm pretty sure he hit his head, like, three different times.  so we just gave up and he drove me home."

in an instant, pride masks santana's pain. maybe he was the one who could parade you around school like a trophy and take you out on romantic dinner dates, but he would never be able to have you in the way she did.  he would never be able to recreate the moments she shared with you in her backseat, whatever they meant.  he would never be able to make you feel the way she did.  that part of you was reserved for her only.

santana hums, as if she's sympathetic.

"it just felt so...wrong," you say, a little disappointed.

wrong because it wasn't me, she thinks.

"i bet," she says instead, fingers impatiently dancing over her comforter.

she watches your lips purse like there's something more on your mind.

"what?" she asks, fingers creeping closer.  she can't deny the desire brewing inside her now that you've all but confessed that she's better than finn.  she'll prove it to you, no words necessary.  the talking is the hardest part after all.

"it's just..."

santana is immediately overwhelmed when you simultaneously reach out to fist the side of her loose shirt, exhale sharply, and rub your thighs together beneath your skirt.  she internally thanks whatever higher being has brought you both to this moment.

"he didn't even...touch me, really," you say, pout playing on your lips.

"yeah?" she asks breathlessly.  she doesn't move yet, curious to see what you're willing to take from her in your distressed state.

"yeah," you say, fingers curling tighter around her shirt, anchoring yourself to her.  you have that wanting look in your eye and santana knows exactly what it is that you want.

"poor baby," she sighs, nails enticingly grazing the skin right above your knee. "all dressed up and can't even get what she wants."

her eyes flicker down to the hem of your dress, and you suppress a groan.  you've never felt this way with finn.  a part of you knows you never will.  you probably won't feel this way with anyone but her.

"santana," you whisper, a quiet plea.

your hips shift intentionally beneath your dress.  it's an invitation santana has been waiting her whole damn life to accept.  she curses under her breath, hand tracing your skin to the back of your knee.

"he tried, but...he doesn't know what he's doing."

"well, i could'a told you that," she says, the corner of her lip curling up in a smile. 

now her entire palm is around your leg, grabbing and pulling your closer.  you lean into her like it's all you've ever wanted.  she can feel your nails through her shirt, digging into the skin of her side.

"you need," she starts, hand inching up the back of your thigh and forehead nearly touching yours.  "someone who knows exactly what they're doing."

she would've kept this game up for even longer, but you break quicker than she'd imagined.  you surge forward, hand leaving her shirt to grab the side of her neck as you finally kiss her.  she responds immediately, kissing you back with confidence finn could only dream of having.

it's different than the times in her car, when everything was rushed and frantic.  now, in the comfort of her own room, free from distractions and interruptions, she can take her time with you.  each kiss is deliberate and slow, like you're trying to consume each other bit by bit.

her fingers press into your thigh, pulling you closer only to push her weight onto you.  you easily let her roll you onto your back and keep you pinned to the mattress with a firm hand on your shoulder.  a whine escapes your lips when her other hand finds it's way under your skirt, pressing your clit over your underwear.  she groans when she realizes what she's feeling: wet, lace panties.

"did he do this to you?" she asks, massaging you over the soaked lace and lips ghosting over yours.  "or did i?"

santana nearly melts at the way your hips stutter against her hand.  she's barely touching you but you're still so responsive.

"you already know," you mumble, hand tangling itself in her hair and bringing her lips back down to yours.

"yeah, but i wanna hear you say it," she says in between kisses.  maybe she's teasing you, but it's more than that.  she needs to hear it.  she needs to know finn can't beat her in every way.  she needs to know this part of you is hers and only hers.

when you don't respond right away, she slows her hand and pulls her lips from yours.  she looks down at you expectantly and you crumble, already missing the feeling of her.

suddenly "you" rolls of your tongue like a mantra.  "always you."

"that's my girl," she whispers, heart fluttering in her chest.

she rewards you by dipping her fingers beneath the lace and rubbing your bare clit.  she keeps her lips against your jaw as you moan and arch into her, legs spreading instinctively wider for her.  she takes her time rubbing gentle circles, working you up until you're bucking into her hand and whispering soft "pleases" against her lips.  she has you right where she wants you.

"see," she mumbles, lips pressed to your cheek.  "this is what it's supposed to feel like."

then she slips two fingers inside you with ease.  she thinks she might come undone herself from the moan you release in return.

"jesus christ," she whispers when she feels you clench around her fingers and whine her name like it's the only one you know.

she repeatedly curls her fingers inside you, stretching you a little more with each teasingly slow thrust.  your head falls against the pillow, your lips permanently parted in bliss.  this is perfect.

actually, there's only one thing missing.

"say you're mine," she says, voice low and confidence cracking in favor of desperation.  you'd notice if you weren't so fucked out.

"mmph, fuck," you groan.  she knows you're close from the way your nails dig into her neck, the same way they always would in the backseat.

"tell me you want me."  her face hovers above yours, watching you at your most beautiful.

you look up at her, eyes locking onto hers, and for a moment, there's no world outside the walls of her room.  there's no finn, no stupid date, no judgmental eyes or whispers.

"i'm yours," you say, never looking away.  "i need you.  always."

for the seconds that you come on her fingers, back arching off the mattress and thighs trembling and squeezing her hand, she lets herself believe you.

[transit-fag]

Story Summary:

Gay Assholes in New York ruin each others lives

The Lore, simplified:

So 50 years ago, in the mid 1990s, an alien escaped from a government facility in Topeka Kansas, and tricked a teenaged girl into destroying the city of Miami, this disaster lead to a revolution in the Pacific Northwest that eventually left the US Government in ruins and in its final acts 79 regional authorities were created to manage the territories of the vast nation. Of particular note is the Regional Authority of the Hudson Valley and New Jersey which became one of the wealthiest nations on the planet for about 3 years before a coup killed the president and the Authority moved its seat of power to Poughkeepsie to try and keep power out of the working classes in New York City, this lead to a massive crackdown on civil rights and liberties that left the authority a despotic state, which in an effort to maintain its power began several ongoing wars in the Connecticut Valley over control of New Haven and Stamford, 15 years after the authority was created, a promised election to begin phasing democracy back into New York was canceled, leading to bloody riots in Hoboken and Bayonne that further militarized the state leading to a state of contradictions, where democracy and civil liberty are in effect dead but there is still a large leftist population and one of the most open gay communities on the continent as a holdover from the era of Gay Liberation as a major political force within New York City Politics meaning revolution is boiling under the surf-

[royalty-nobility]

Princess Amelia Sophia Eleonore of Great Britain

Artist: Thomas Hudson (English, 1707–1779)

Date: ca. 1745

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Yale Center for British Art, New Haven, CT, United States

Princess Amelia of Great Britain

Princess Amelia Sophia Eleonore of Great Britain (10 June 1711 – 31 October 1786) was the second daughter of King George II of Great Britain and Queen Caroline. Born in Hanover, she moved to England when her grandfather George I became king. Amelia lived a solitary existence and died in 1786, the last surviving child of her parents.

[portrait-paintings]

Margaret Crawley

Artist: Henry John Hudson (British, 1862–1911)

Date: ca. 1896

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Yale Center for British Art, New Haven, CT, United States

[pupsmailbox]

hai..👅UMM NAMES LIKE ROWAN??/? but not rowen please jo rowEN

ROWAN︰ aidan. aiden. alexander. amelia. an. annie. archer. arden. arlo. ash. asher. ashton. ava. avery. blair. boden. bowen. callum. charlotte. cohan. declan. eden. elowyn. emerson. emery. emily. everett. everly. ezra. fallon. finley. finn. flynn. gavin. grayson. hadley. harlow. harper. hayden. hazel. hudson. imogen. ivy. jack. jaxom. jordan. jude. kai. kieran. lacie. lennon. liam. liir. lily. luca. maddison. maeve. marlowe. miles. milo. noa. noah. nova. nydarella. oliver. olivia. orion. owen. parker. poppy. quinn. raanan. raegan. raiden. raine. ram. raman. ramim. ramin. ramya. ranae. ranee. raven. rayhan. reagan. reem. rehn. reina. remi. rene. rhema. rhianna. rhyan. rhys. rian. rianna. riley. rini. river. ro. roan. robin. rohan. roland. roma. romain. roman. romannea. romano. romeo. romy. ronan. roni. ronia. rory. row. rowen. rowyn. rowynn. ruana. ruben. rudolf. ryan. ryane. ryann. sage. sawyer. scarlett. silas. sloane. sophie. soren. sutton. tallulah. tanit. teagan. tewa. theo. theodore. thomas. violet. willow. wren. zi.

ROWEN︰ acacia. amelia. amoret. arine. arula. asher. augwys. ava. avery. blaine. blake. bode. boden. bodhi. bodie. bowen. bryant. bryn. callan. callen. ceven. charlotte. coen. cohen. daxton. declan. ellery. emerson. emmett. emory. eren. everett. finley. finn. fynn. gavin. grayson. harper. haven. hazel. holden. hudson. iriel. ivy. kerrigan. kiernan. killian. knox. laken. lennon. lennox. liam. luca. maddox. maeve. makoto. marlo. marlow. mary. mason. micah. milo. mirielle. nash. nolan. novie. oliver. olivia. orin. oryx. owen. palmer. parker. quinn. raelynn. rahim. rahm. rahmi. raimi. rainie. ram. rama. ramya. ranae. rania. rayan. raymond. reem. reilly. reina. remi. rena. rene. rennie. renoa. renée. rhett. rhian. rhyan. rian. ridley. rihana. riley. rini. river. ro. roana. rohan. roland. romain. romane. romannea. rome. romney. romy. rona. ronan. ronen. ronin. rory. roselyn. row. rowan. rowen. rowyn. rowynn. rune. ryan. ryann. ryland. ryne. sage. sanel. saoirse. sawyer. scarlett. shea. silas. sirela. sloane. soren. sutton. tatum. theo. valeraine. vega. violet. wen. willow. wren. wrenley. wyatt. wylder. xaine. xanthia. xavia. xavian.

[aryburn-trains]

MNCR 5043, Katonah, NY, 1983

Metro-North's early days were not easy, A southbound Harlem Line train approaches Katonah the morning after a blizzard dumped more than two feet on the area on February 13, 1983. A former New Haven FL9 leads a set of coaches originally rebuilt for Delaware & Hudson/Amtrak Adirondack service.

Art Deeks photo

[grilledcheezy92]

Headcanon that the Haven front desk guy is Hudson

[20th-century-railroading]

Lehigh & Hudson River Railway Baldwin (built 1929) 2-8-0 Consolidation steam locomotive 93 leads an EXTRA (with white flags flying) manifest freight train out of the New Haven Railroad Yard at Maybrook, New York, ca 1940's

Lehigh & Hudson River Railway Baldwin (built 1929) 2-8-0 Consolidation steam locomotive 93 leads an EXTRA (with white flags flying) manifest freight train out of the New Haven Railroad Yard at Maybrook, New York, ca 1940's. These Consolidation steam locomotives were among the largest and most powerful of this type of steam locomotive with 71,500 lbs of starting tractive effort. The Western Maryland had the most powerful of all Consolidation classes that produced 74,000 lbs of starting tractive effort. Just look at the width of the oversized giant Wooten firebox provided for burning anthrecite coal. You can see the fireman in his cab window looking ahead. The two tracks that turnout from the yard lead to the Lehigh & Hudson River right-of-way. You can see many long gone railroad names of the freight cars, such as the Northern Pacific boxcar behind the tender, and to the left a ERIE hopper car along with a Southern Pacific - T&NO boxcar.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hey hi!! Can you suggest some stories where Kurt and / blaine had been sexually abused at young age or into prostitute at young age? Angst/comfort preferably

Hello!

Sexually abused - the first five I haven't read yet! ~Jen

'Sessions by lovely_sparkle

Kurt goes to see a therapist at the insistence of Rachel and is surprised to discover it’s none other than Blaine Anderson, his former best friend and high school crush. Blaine tells Kurt he can’t treat him, but what enfolds is something neither could have predicted: a chance for healing for them both.

~~~~~

My Secret Shame by kisstheliesofsummerlovers

Kurt struggles with an anxiety disorder that no one believes is real. He tries a method that helps for a short time, but it takes more each time he uses it. He meets a boy who says he can help, but he may only make things worse for Kurt. Maybe an old friend from Dalton is who he needs.

~~~~~

All the Life Around by afterdalton

Kurt becomes agoraphobic due to past trauma. He lives alone in an apartment in Columbus and hasn’t left in 2 years. Blaine moves in next door and Kurt hears his beautiful voice singing through their shared wall. Kurt becomes obsessed with the mystery songbird next door and for the first time in years feels like the outside world might have something beautiful to offer him after all.

~~~~~

Disbturbance by Mildredo 

dis·tur·bance

disˈtərbəns

noun

the interruption of a settled and peaceful condition. the disruption of healthy functioning.

~~~~~

Breathe Series by anxioussquirrel

Blaine gets sexually assaulted. Burt is the one to pick up the pieces. The Hummel-Hudson household is the safe haven. For the time being. Then it’s time to leave its safety and face the world, dealing with school, family, recovery and the trial.

~~~~~

The Muse by the_cimmerians

An AU that shamelessly thieves giant pieces of plot from Anne Rice’s novel Belinda. Blaine is thirty-four. Kurt is sixteen. Stuff happens (not exactly the same stuff as is in the book, jsyk

~~~~~

also, slightly different, Kurt and Blaine are hybrids, the backstory in this verse:

Empty Nest - Revised by @coffeegleek

Burt Hummel was an empty nester who discovered a teenager sleeping under his porch. Kurt was just trying to survive in a world that was against everything he was. This is their story.

The abuse story is in Part one - A Nest of Scars by @coffeegleek

Kurt’s life from his arrest at age 6 to his escape from the Lima Heights Hybrid Reformatory at age 15

Prostitute

About us by WildHurricane

It's an ordinary summer day at the diner where Kurt works, when a new guest enters. He's hot and flirty and orders coffee and fries, and Kurt. Kurt is instantly attracted and flirts back. When the guy waits for Kurt outside the diner, Kurt decides to go with him for a moment of pleasure. But there's a spark between them that neither anticipated. Soon Kurt finds out that the guy isn't who he claims to be and that he's got other secrets as well. He's mysterious and exciting and Kurt is falling for him hard and fast, but when the secrets are revealed Kurt finds himself between love and aversion and must decide if he should stay and help Blaine out of an impossible situation or leave him and save his own heart.

~~~~~

Loving Arms by @heartsmadeofbooks

Desperate times call for desperate measures. When Blaine’s heart gets broken again just before he was supposed to introduce his boyfriend to his entire family, he is too humiliated to show up alone at the Andersons’ doorstep. Cue Kurt Hummel, a beautiful prostitute with nothing left to lose and a farce that will change their lives.

~~~~~

The Endless Tango of Love and Money by seeroftodayandtomorrow

When Kurt Hummel hires escort Blaine Anderson to play his boyfriend at a family gathering, he sets in motion a chain of events that ends up with them living together for a year, posing as boyfriends, and struggling with jealous relatives, dancing, money, and love.

~~~~~

Endland by seeroftodayandtomorrow

Apocalypse AU. Kurt is a prostitute, jaded from the way his world fell apart. Blaine is a policeman, trying to maintain some kind of order in the midst of chaos. When Kurt discovers something that may cost him his life, he wants to pay Blaine for his protection - in the way he usually does. But as, once again, everything crashes around them, he soon discovers that sex with Blaine can never be just a business transaction.

~~~~~

Also adding this on, I know you've read it, because you recommended it to me, but people might mention it too.

Plug In Baby by mmerainbows

Anderberry!Siblings, Skank!Kurt, Prostitute!Kurt, Drug Use

Blaine passes by Kurt everyday on his way home, ignoring the pink haired pierced up boy to avoid the trouble that the boy seems to surround himself with. One day though, Blaine can’t avoid paying attention to Kurt, and one simple act of humanity creates enough drama that even Rachel is overwhelmed by it.

[railwayhistorical]

Changing Power at Poughkeepsie While headed to NYC on the Lake Shore Limited, the train stopped at Poughkeepsie, New York, to change power; the rail line here was formerly the New York Central. Unfortunately, I don’t know what was on point of the train from Rochester (where I got on) to this spot, but from here on in to Grand Central Terminal, it would be an EMD FL9. This locomotive, truly a unique model, was designed for use on the New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroad, specifically with GCT in mind. The locomotive could run as a normal diesel-electric does, but also use the electricity of a third-rail (either over or under the shoe) so as to not spew exhaust in the tunnels under Park Avenue as well as in the station itself. There were sixty of these produced; they remarkable for their B-A1A wheel configuration. After the New Haven was folded into the Penn Central, the use of this engine type expanded to the Hudson Valley line, as we see here. Besides what was happening with my train, there is a Rail Diesel Car in the station; RDCs were built by the Budd Company of Philadelphia between 1949 and 1962. I believe these interesting self-propelled units were used for local service on the various Conrail commuter lines north of NYC; Metro North would take over these lines in 1983. Three images by Richard Koenig; taken in May of 1981.

[mama-orion]

Hello amazing humans.

I'm nervous, I'm giddy. I’m back. I promise not to paint on a bad mustache and pretend two years haven’t happened.

After a long, long, nourishing hibernation, The Man in the Iron Collar is back. Many chapters are in progress, so while I am a sloth-slow writer, there will be more to read in the days and weeks ahead, with the great goal of keeping up the momentum until the tale is told in full. Wish me luck.

Chapter 24 - Tea and Tendrils

Scraps of foresight had peppered Sherlock’s dreams since childhood, but this summer the trickle had become a torrent. What was coming? Who was this man who appeared in so many of the visions?

And then Captain John Watson had strode into his circus tent and the cryptic visions had begun to come true.

Fragments of dream-premonitions replayed in his mind on a frenetic loop.

The wind screams in his ears as he pulls out of a loop-de-loop, John gripped tightly to his chest, the circus far below–

Netters close, close – a forest full of fire, smoke chokes his lungs, panic in his veins as he grabs hold of John and launches skyward, away away –

An Adelidae keening in pain, her flesh turning to stone. He shows John how to heal her–

An obelisk of pyrite looms below him in a cavern. He grabs John’s hand, they jump off the ledge–

They run through alleyways toward a half-constructed zeppelin. Netters are close behind. They need to jump unseen–

These visions had come to pass, but more – many more – still eluded him. Some were innocuous. A few were deeply pleasant. But most of the images squeezed him in a fist of fear.

In one dark vision, Sherlock was pushing John through a glimmering rent in the air, his cheeks wet with tears. In another, the snarling tarnished tiger-helm of a Netter glared down at him, an antlered head looming behind it with eyes like cold stars; in a third, he was walking through a too-still forest approaching an ash tree. His fingers brushed over the bark’s ridges, the whorls and grooves forming the likeness of a face –

He shuddered. What pieces of dream-sight held importance, and which were just subconscious flotsam? Was there a pattern he was missing? Some clue that would tell him what danger was truly coming? It was maddening. It felt as if the answers were just on the edge of thought. The fractured scenes flashed through his mind, faster, faster –

John’s fingers slid over Sherlock’s sharply-bouncing knee, his touch anchoring him back in the present.

Alright?

The visions ebbed away.

Sherlock took a deep, shaky breath. Thank you. Got lost in my thoughts.

He was sitting in a comfortable chair by Mrs. Hudson’s crackling magical fire, so close to John’s own chair that their knees lightly brushed. His hands were holding a cooling cup of tea. He took a sip of the earthy jasmine. The wards and seals of the Haven hummed just on the edge of his perception. They were free. They were safe.

Read the rest of Chapter 24 on AO3

While I’m going forward unbeta’d, @shirleycarlton will always have my profound gratitude for hours of excellent beta’ing and support.

And cover art by @spenglernot is still so utterly perfect.

Back to writing. Damn it feels good to be back.