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desperationandgin · 5 years ago

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Strawberry Wine (Part 1, chapter 6)

Rating: Mature

Author: desperationandgin

Previous Chapter

Also Read On: AO3

Summary: A beach trip.

Chapter Six: Sand and Sea

I had somehow convinced Uncle Lamb I needed to go to Inverness in order to poke about shops, and by the next afternoon, I’d bought a bathing suit that was both tame enough that Lamb didn’t balk, and short enough that it made me blush to think about wearing it for Jamie. It was white, with crisscrossed straps in the back, and didn’t quite fall to mid-thigh; the front was keyholed for a glimpse (but not direct viewing) of my chest.

Coy, but not rude.

I’d had no idea then that three days later on a hot and lazy Saturday morning, Jamie would be driving me to a loch to swim. Or so I thought; he’d told me to wear my suit under my clothing, so that’s what I’d done. Now, I was sitting in the passenger side of his truck with my feet on the dash, crossed at the ankles, while we rode with the windows down.

“How far is this lake?” I asked as I tried to estimate how long we’d driven. It seemed like at least a half-hour, perhaps more, had passed.

“No’ too far now, Sassenach. I wanted to go out of the way a bit, our first wee trip together,” he explained with a grin that held so much more. He was excited about something, I could tell, but I assumed it was enthusiasm for the day. For a while, I closed my eyes and listened as music filtered through his radio. Jo Stafford sang on about promising to never part on warbly AM waves, and I drifted until Jamie’s hand reached out to brush against my wrist. He didn’t speak at all, and I smiled before turning my head to look at him.

That’s when I noticed (through his window first, then mine) that the rolling hills, which had given way to sprawling fields and countryside, were now flat grassland. The further we drove, the shorter the grass grew until there was nothing but sand. In the distance, blue sky melded with the deeper blue of water, and I looked at Jamie again in surprise.

“This is the ocean.”

I heard him snort a little. “Aye, they should give ye a medal for your braw detective work, Sassenach.”

I smacked him lightly against the side of his leg, even while I was unable to take my eyes from the beautiful scenery once the truck finally came to a stop.

“Ye told me the last truly clear memory ye have is of the beach,” I heard him say quietly, and I could feel his eyes trained on my face as I stared, unblinking at the view. I was afraid if I turned to look at him, I would cry. When I said nothing, he continued. “...So, I thought it would be nice to surprise ye and make more memories. New ones, ye ken.”

At his explanation, the lump in my throat only grew and I blinked quickly, but I was still silent.

“Sassenach, if ye’d rather go back, ‘tis no problem, we could stop, eat on the way home,” he offered, and I found myself shaking my head, but I still couldn’t look at him.

“Claire, I’m sorry if I hurt ye.”

His voice was so quiet and gentle, and he sounded so worried, that I finally looked at him and tried desperately to find my voice. “No, Jamie, it’s not--you--” My voice wavered and just before the dam broke, two other words left my mouth.

“It’s perfect.”

I couldn’t pinpoint why, exactly, I was dissolving into tears, but I buried my face in my hands and wept, trying to apologize to him in gasping sobs. I’d never cried like this over my parents, not in at least a decade. I’d lost them so young, and I loved Lamb so completely for the life he gave me, that when I ached for a mother and father both, it was for momentous occasions. For some reason, being at a beach (when I’d been to plenty of them before now) because Jamie remembered a half-forgotten memory completely undid me.

I felt rather than saw him move, and without hesitation, he pulled me into his arms and held me as I cried, the embrace warm and protective. Even as I tried to pull myself together, in the back of my mind I noted that we fit this way, as if I were a missing puzzle piece that fit directly into his hold. He whispered to me in a language I knew nothing of, but his words settled over me anyway, like a warm blanket wrapping around my heart, determined to comfort me. After a few minutes passed, I finally took a deep breath and let it out, wiping at my eyes and sniffling.

“I didn’t mean to cry like that. I’m not even sure why I did, it was just--this is so wonderful, Jamie,” I babbled, blinking quickly to not cry again. “I think this is the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Jamie’s smile was understanding and soft, though it seemed his eyes were tinged with a bit of sadness at my words. “Ye should have someone who wants to do kind things for you every day, Sassenach.”

Reaching out, I let my fingers thread with his.

“I do.”

We stayed like that for another five minutes or so, until the unmoving air inside the truck felt stifling and we clambered out, walking down to the beach with towels draped over my arm and shoes dangling from my fingertips. Once a spot was selected, Jamie trudged off to rent an umbrella while I spread out towels side by side and finally removed my summer dress to reveal my swimsuit. By the time Jamie returned, all evidence that I’d ever had a meltdown was gone; in its place, a serene smile touched my lips as I laid in the sun. When a shadow blocked the heat building on my skin, I squinted up at him while shielding my eyes until our shade was firmly in place. Like this —me, flat on my back and a giant Scot towering over me — I felt impossibly small, but I grinned. “You look a hundred feet tall from down here,” I hummed merrily, shifting as he lumbered down beside me and fell to his side, propped on an elbow to face me.

“Maybe I’m a giant, Sassenach.” His finger reached out to lightly drag across my shoulder.

“You are. I haven’t met a single other Scot as tall as you.” Reaching out, the backs of my fingers lightly dragged across his cheek. “It’s all that Viking blood.”

He parroted the word viking back to me, and I felt the low vibration of it as he somehow managed to roll the ‘v’ against my lips. Then, he pulled back to appraise me in my bathing suit. Feeling myself blush under his gaze, I delicately cleared my throat. “Do you like it?”

My voice seemed to pull him out of his thoughts, and he blinked owlishly at me. “‘Tis a verra fine suit, Sassenach.” Even as he spoke, his fingers seemed drawn to the keyhole, my breath catching as he touched what curved flesh he could see. “Verra bawdy of ye, Claire.” His words sounded serious, but I could see the way he tried to duck his head and hide a smile.

“Bawdy! I’ll have you know I’m considered quite respectable.”

“No’ by anyone who’s seen ye in a bathin’ suit.”

I laughed loudly and shoved at his chest. When his laughter joined mine, I basked in the harmony of it before repositioning myself so that my head laid on his shoulder. “Really though, is it too much?”

Raising his head, I felt him land a kiss in my hair before he laid back again. “Nah. I reckon it’s exactly enough.” Idly, I wondered if he knew I picked it with him in mind and smiled to myself.

We looked up at the clouds for a while, picking out shapes. What I thought a dragon, he thought a camel. When I told him he was ridiculous, he kissed me hard and with a wet smack before calling me a wee snot. He made me laugh, and I him, in return. This is what it’s supposed to be I thought to myself. As we lapsed into quiet comfort to listen to the sounds around us (the waves, children shrieking, random bursts of cheers, hooting and hollering), I let myself reminisce about past romantic interludes. Not to dwell on a specific person, but on the moments. Surely there were things that’d made me interested; common interests, usually, or perhaps alcohol had been the only common denominator. Either way, I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt wholly wanted. Part of it was my own fault, I knew. I had a tendency to not attach myself to people or places because I never stayed long, but Jamie was different from the moment we first spoke. He made me ache to see him again the moment we parted, and when we were together, it was as if a flame always stayed alight somewhere in the very core of who I was; a beacon, calling him home.

Lazily, I slapped my hand toward my bag, pushed his discarded shirt out of the way, and pulled out a well-worn copy of Around the World in 80 Days. Opening it to where we’d left off (A new pastime while he ate lunch had been to read in the hayloft. Our feet always dangled lazily as he munched on food, I read, and he shared slices of an apple with me.), my voice began to relive the adventures of Phileas Fogg. When I was done with my chapter of reading, Jamie and I traded, going back and forth. After his chapter (and as he handed the book back to me), he spoke.

“Soon enough, we’ll be the world travelers, Sassenach,” he mused aloud.

“And we’ll have much longer than 80 days. Although, we could go to more than one place in about...what, two and a half months? Depending on how long we stayed in one location.” I tilted my head up to peek up at him. “What were you thinking in that regard?” I couldn’t keep the enthusiasm out of my voice, letting the book rest on my stomach.

Jamie made a contemplative sound in the back of his throat before answering. “Long enough to feel as though we immersed ourselves as deeply as we could. Three weeks? Even a month, perhaps.”

“That might feel nearly like what my life has been so far,” I told him with a soft, fond smile. “We stayed quite a bit longer, of course, sometimes over a year when sites were rife with artifacts.” I reached to pick up the book again. “Imagine reading this on a beach in Greece.”

“We have tae read Greek myths on a Grecian beach, Sassenach,” he pointed out.

I rolled my eyes fondly at him and already thought the story of Persephone, Queen of the Underworld and Goddess of the harvest, would be perfect. My attention returned to the book and I began reading, my voice soft between us; it told a story only for our ears, my cadence lazy as the sun made me feel slow-paced and leisurely.

“Her shining tresses, divided in two parts, encircle the harmonious contour of her white and delicate cheeks, brilliant in their glow and freshness,” I read, and was suddenly aware of the tip of Jamie’s finger ghosting across the apple of my cheek. I didn’t stop reading, continuing as he kept his hand close.

“Her ebony brows have the form and charm of the bow of Kama, the god of love, and beneath her long silken lashes the purest reflections and a celestial light swim, as in the sacred lakes of Himalaya, in the black pupils of her great clear eyes.” This time as I read, his finger lightly glided across my eyebrows, then dragged down the bridge of my nose so that I had to stop reading.

“May I help you?”

His smile was just as lazy as my reading. “Keep goin,” he encouraged, dropping his hand again.

I cheated, skimming ahead to see where this was going, to see what he might do next, and the words made me swallow heavily before continuing. “Her teeth, fine, equal, and white, glitter between her smiling lips like dewdrops in a passion-flower's half-enveloped breast.” I knew that something was coming, I simply didn’t know what until he pushed the book down and leaned over me, kissing me slowly at first, then deeper. I was now flat on my back, and while he seemed unbothered about the fact that we were on a very public beach, I weakly pushed at his bicep.

“Jamie, we can’t,” I murmured. Sure enough, a glance to my left and a woman was looking at us in disdain. Giving our fellow beach goer a tight smile, I (much as I didn’t want to) pushed Jamie away from me and eyed him. “Behave.”

“No promises,” he warned.

Once he was on his back again, I placed myself once more into his arms and dramatically picked the book back up. I held it with a sense of purpose, lest the annoyed spectator beside us think we were doing anything but reading. “Her delicately formed ears, her vermilion hands, her little feet, curved and tender as the lotus-bud, glitter with the brilliancy of the loveliest pearls of Ceylon, the most dazzling diamonds of Golconda.” One of his fingers lightly traced the shell of my ear, and then, along the hand that rested on my stomach, he dragged the backs of his fingers across mine. He couldn’t reach my feet, and so the exposed curve of my hip had to do.

I could feel my heart beating a bit faster.

“Turn to face me, Sassenach,” he urged, halfway sitting up himself until I moved. Then, he laid on his side again and I faced him. Propped on one arm, I held the novel in front of me after we’d scooted as close to one another as we could.

“Her narrow and supple waist, which a hand may clasp around, sets forth the outline of her rounded figure and the beauty of her bosom--” My breath hitched as Jamie reached out and dragged a finger from one hipbone across my stomach, doing exactly as the sentence described and cupping my waist. Then, his fingers moved to my breasts, hovering just over a hardened peak. He couldn’t touch me here, not really, but I could feel the very tips of his fingers just barely graze a covered nipple.

It was enough to make me whimper, but I soldiered on. “--where youth in its flower displays the wealth of its treasures; and--” I paused again, then hissed. “Jamie.” The pad of one finger had dragged slowly between my thighs, making me ache at once with want.

He shook his head. “Dinna stop.”

The warmth that flooded the very core of me must have been noticed by him. He groaned lowly in the back of his throat and briefly cupped his hand to me before pulling back quickly, catching himself.

Breathing heavily, I finished, finally. “--beneath the silken folds of her tunic she seems to have been modelled in pure silver by the godlike hand of Vicvarcarma, the immortal sculptor.” Even in that short amount of time, he couldn’t keep his hand from me, gravitating to my breast again, cupping and squeezing briefly.

“We can’t, Jamie, not out here.”

Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath and wet his lips. “Who would have kent Jules Verne could inspire a cockstand?”

At that, I laughed so hard that the woman beside us had a completely different reason to be annoyed.

To cool down, I suggested we go swim for a bit. We walked together with our pinkies joined, hands swinging as I looked up at him only to see my grin matched his. Once in the water, we were content to float as we held hands, letting the water gently ebb us close, then float us away until our arms were fully outstretched while holding onto one another. Always, we were brought close to one another again before we were forced to break apart completely.

After we’d had our fill of the water and the sun dried us thoroughly again, I slipped my dress back on before Jamie led us back to the truck, and I assumed we would simply go back to Lallybroch. Instead, he drove us into the nearby sleepy beachside town, and we stopped in a pub to have a late lunch and a pint. Then, we moseyed through the quaint area, leaving our transportation behind and exploring the various shops. In one, I bought a floppy straw hat (”To wear when I watch you work outside,” I’d said.), and in another, we separated to browse. It was an antique store, full of old things that had been deemed old enough to sell at very expensive prices. Still, as I looked, I was struck by a blue vase sitting on a glass shelf. It was beautiful but nothing wildly unique; it was a simple vase, but I wondered what it would be like to be so sure I wasn’t packing up and moving on that I could buy home decor.

“Do ye like it?” came Jamie’s voice behind me. Rather than startle, I leaned back and into his arms as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

“I don’t know. I don’t dislike it. It’s only that I’m realizing I don’t know what it’s like to have one place you fill with all of your things. And then, no matter where you go, you return home.”

Quiet for a moment, Jamie turned me so that I was forced to look up at him.

“I’ve decided, Sassenach, that home doesn’t need to be a place. As long as I’m wi’ ye, I’ll be home.” He was serious and reached out, twisting a sand-crusted curl in his fingers. He was impossibly sweet, and I melted into a kiss with him until the proprietor cleared his throat. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed he shot a wink at Jamie as we left the store.

“Are ye ready for the last place on our tour?” he asked me, raising my hand to his lips in a soft kiss.

“Oh, aye,” I replied with excitement before he pointed across the street. There was a storefront with the words Confectionery & Ice Cream Parlorpainted in gold on the window, outlined in white. More from my past, more new memories to make, and I squeezed his hand in mine as I looked up at him. Right then, something swelled in my heart nearly to bursting, and I ached to hold him close. It was something I’d never felt before and I wanted to lean into it, to give in and sink into what bliss would be like with him.

“Come, Sassenach. We’ll buy some candy, have an ice cream, and then be on our way home. We’ll be there just in time for supper.” He did give me a sweet kiss on the forehead, finally remembering to keep it tame.

I let Jamie pick candy for me, unfamiliar with traditional Scottish treats. He picked something called taiblet which he said was a type of candy made from condensed milk, sugar, and butter, then flavored with whiskey. When I took a bite, it was a bit like fudge or even brittle, melting in my mouth. After bagging a few more things (Edinburgh rock and Tunnock’s sweets), we went to the counter and paid for not only our candy, but two ice cream cones as well. His flavor of choice was a chocolate-vanilla combination, mine a scoop each of strawberry and vanilla. We walked slowly back to the truck together as we ate our ice cream, unhurried. I felt warm but carefree and light, so pleased with the day that I might as well have been floating. We couldn’t hold hands due to shopping bags and dessert, but every now and then we swayed into one another and lightly bumped shoulders.

Finally in the truck again, I leaned over to give Jamie a deep, soulful kiss full of gratitude — and hints of more —before pulling back. When I looked at him, I knew he saw me. He could see every part of me down to my marrow, and it terrified me, made me breathless in an incredible way that let me know being with him was absolutely right. “Thank you. For today, for all of it. This was perfect. It was more than perfect, really. I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”

He reached out and cupped my face. “Ye’ll have tae get used to it eventually, aye?”

I couldn’t even answer him without being worried my voice might break, so I nodded and leaned forward so that he might kiss my forehead. He obliged without missing a beat, and then I settled into my seat again. As he drove, I let my mind wander, closing my eyes as I thought of each place Jamie and I might go one day. After Greece, I wanted to show him my favorite places in Cairo, then go with him to the mountains of Colorado to trade scorching heat for winter relief.

The next thing I found myself aware of was the passenger side door opening and Jamie lightly moving his fingers through my hair. Opening my eyes, I turned my head to look at him, blinking. As my mind cleared, I realized we were back at Lallybroch already and I let out a huff of a laugh. “I fell asleep.”

“Aye, ye did. But now I ken ye dinna snore, at least,” he teased, helping me out of the truck. Soon, though, he had me pressed to his side gently with his hands on my hips. “After supper, Sassenach, meet me near the strawberries?” he requested against the curve of my jaw while thumbs slowly rubbed circles against my skin through the dress.

My belly tightened in anticipation at the mere thought of what we’d do on the riverbank as night swelled around us, and I nodded in agreement.

I wanted to scream when the night didn’t go at all the way we’d hoped. Jamie’d been able to get out of post-supper conversation easily enough, but Lamb specifically asked me to sit and discuss one of the many battles between the Scots and Norwegians in the thirteenth century. I looked helplessly at Jamie, but he smiled in understanding, explaining that he would be off reading for the rest of the evening. It was a way to know I could come to him when I was done, and we’d go to the river together. My attention was completely unfocused, but even while giving a lackluster showing of conversational skills, Lamb kept me occupied until the rest of the house had gone quiet and still around us. It wasn’t until the clock struck eleven P.M. that I realized how late it was.

Yawning and stretching, I feigned exhaustion (it wasn’t a full-blown lie; I was tired from the sun and water all day--not tired enough to forget about the promise of more tonight) at the late hour and dismissed myself with a kiss to my uncle’s cheek. Knowing Jamie had planned to lay in bed, I glanced at his door once I was upstairs and realized the light wasn’t shining under the crack. Deflated and disappointed we’d have to wait another full day, I went to my room and bathed the beach away in the adjacent bathroom before changing into a nightgown and crawling into bed. Disappointed as I was, my mind still wandered in the dark, thinking of the way he’d seemed unable to resist reaching out to touch my curves. His hands seemed to want to write sonnets and blaze fires across my skin at the same time, and I wanted to let him do it freely.

It wasn’t only thoughts that wandered as a hand slipped beneath the bedsheets and pushed my nightgown up, shifting to glide my fingers across coarse curls. It wasn’t going to be what I truly wanted, and with an exhale of frustration, I sat up in bed and weighed the odds that Jamie was still awake. At worst, he was already asleep and wouldn’t hear my knock.

Slipping out of bed, I quietly opened my door before walking two rooms down the hall and lightly rapping against the wooden barrier between us. It was so light I was sure there was no way he could have heard it, and held my breath in anticipation. I could still feel the way his hand cupped and fit so perfectly between my thighs, and I could still feel the way his gaze had burned straight into me when he realized I could undo him with words alone.

That was the same gaze that greeted me when the door opened; no one else would bother him so late. For a moment we merely stared at one another; and for my part at least, I was already picturing him naked, clothes discarded on the floor.

Reaching out, he offered to let me in.

With a shy smile, I took his hand and stepped into his room, closing the door quietly behind me.

NEXT CHAPTER

#outlander #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #outlander fic #strawberry wine #my fic

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pavspatch · 3 years ago

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NPL Transfers

PLAYER movements registered with the Pitching In Northern Premier League from Sunday, October 3 to 11am Saturday, October 9.

 Dermot Mee from Manchester United to Ashton United (work experience)

Jamie Rainford from Ramsbottom United to Glossop North End

Hamid Addai from Wythenshawe Town to Hyde United Jack Dyche from Curzon Ashton to Hyde United

Theo Bailey-Jones from Hyde United to Stafford Rangers

Jahquil Hill from Robin Hood (Bermuda) to Stalybridge Celtic

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sports-balling-blog · 3 years ago

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2021 NFL hot(ish) takes NFC edition

Second verse same as the first let’s get into it.

NFC West

4. San Francisco 49ers- it’s clear that Jimmy G isn’t anything more than a discount Alex Smith and trey lance will need some time getting used to the next level. In that time the others in your division has only gotten better and San Francisco is just going to get injured

3. Seattle Seahawks- it’s not that they’re a bad team not at all it’s just the other two are better and in spite of a 12-4 record last season Seattle is no longer a Super Bowl team but a playoff team. Could they finish 1st? Yeah do I expect them to? No.

2. Arizona Cardinals- the NFL’s retirement home welcomes two new members in JJ Watt and AJ Green the Cards just missed the playoffs last season and with these two joining the team Arizona should be looking to improve on their 8-8 year.

1. LA Rams- it pains me to say this it really does. Mathew Stafford has always put up good numbers while quietly suffering in Detroit and now it’s time to put up or shut up with a real team behind him. You better home it works McVay otherwise the Rams are going to be fucked.

NFC South

4. Atlanta Falcons- the NFC South has always and continues to be a shit show with how inconstant their teams are. That being said last years les than stellar season and not doing anything to improve on it leaves me to put you in last.

3. Carolina Panthers- well Teddy Bridgewater didn’t quite work out for y’all so welcome to the stage Sam Darnold. Let’s see what the prize QB can do with an actual team and coach. I’m guessing 6-11

2. New Orleans Saints- well for the first time in two decades Drew Brees is not your #1 QB now we get to see how well Jamis Winston will lead you. While he’s better than his infamous 30/30 season it’s certainly a step down. On the somewhat bright side you’re be the best team in Jacksonville!

1. Tampa Bay Buccaneers- well back to back super bowl titles don’t happen much but when you bring back all 22 of your starters the year after winning the super bowl it’s kind hard to argue against them not at least winning the division. Age is the biggest threat to the team right now.

NFC North

4. Detroit Lions- the lions are not actively trying to win (are they ever?) and we can see this when they traded away one of the best QBs they’ve every had for Jerod Goff.

3. Chicago Bears- there’s quite a bit of excitement around Chicago with the addition of Justin Fields in the draft but now we have to question how far this team can go with Matt Nagy as head coach. It’s certainly not going to be far if this season doesn’t progress like expected.

2. Minnesota Vikings- we know the ceiling for Kirk Cousins and it’s definitely not super bowl. The way this team is built they’re not getting any further than the divisional round miracles or not.

1. Green Bay Packers- well somehow Aaron Rodgers is suiting up in the green and yellow of cheeseland once again. Enjoy it packland it very well might be the last time the MVP does it. Enjoy the ride. On the bright side you still can boast to be one of the better teams in the NFC. And if things fall apart you can fall in Love with your new QB

NFC East

4. New York Giants- it might have been a mistake to draft saquon Barkley to give Eli some extra life instead of a quarterback back in 2018. Give the fact that Wikipedia has the last four years as “further struggles” on the giants article tells me Joe Judge has his work cut out for him.

3.Philadelphia Eagles- so this is what selling your soul for a super bowl looks like? The cabinets have been cleared out (minus Roseman?) and now we get to see what the two headed giant of Gardner Memshew and Jalen Hurts goes. As you can tell probably not well I’m guessing.

2. Washington Football Team- you know the WFT monicker is starting to grow on me. That being said it’s going to be an uphill climb to repeat as Division champions but you’ve got a fair shot. Ron Riviera, Ryan Fitzpatrick on his 80th team and a very ok defense. Let’s see how the [redacted] react to playing some of the tougher teams this year.

1. Dallas Cowboys- can you hear it? The sounds of a million smug assholes feeling superior? It’s coming and the sad thing is with Dak back, Elliott, Cee Dee Lamb, and an underperforming Defense they have to be favorites for the East. Heaven help us all if the cowboys win a playoff game.

Playoff time!

1. Tampa Bay- as much as I’m not confident in them repeating they still are one of the best and don’t really have a challenger in the division like they did last year in New Orleans.

2. Green Bay- Can you keep the streak alive and loose in the NFC title game again or are you finally getting over the hill and give Aaron his second super bowl appearance. Nows your chance.

3.Dallas Cowboys- the Cowboys are going to be a very flashy team that gets a lot of wins against a sad NFC East but just like the tradition of thanksgiving football the Cowboys loosing in the playoffs is set in stone.

4. Los Angles Rams- it’s do or die for stafford. Can he lead this team to greatness or is he going to cement himself as discount Dan Marino.

5. New Orleans Saints- is this a Super bowl team? No probably not but they’re still very talented and the city of New Orleans needs a win after the Hurricane.

6. Arizona Cardinals- can Arizona Tech light the playoffs on fire once the Kingsburry-Murray gamble pays dividends? No probably not but they’re a good sleeper pick. And hey Josh Allen took the Bills to the AFC championship game in his third season so maybe?!?

7. Minnesota Vikings- eek into the playoffs and hope for a playoff miracle to finally go your way maybe? Stranger things have happened but it’s an uphill climb.

The NFC has a lot more parity than their counterparts in the AFC with a lot of rising teams and teams looking to cut a path into the Super Bowl and that should make this season a blast to watch. As much fun as it would be to shitpost and say the Buccaneers beat Green Bay to play in the Super Bowl again in going to go and say it’s the Packers finally

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kirwond · 7 years ago

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That Belongs In A Museum!

A fanmix for 1931: Scheherazade at the Library of Pergamum, following the Sterling route.

Listen at Spotify.

Even more playlists here.

Tracklist and notes below the cut, notes are from the game (slightly abridged).

Don’t Rain On My Parade – Glee Cast

Well, today was the big day... doubly big, actually. My birthday and my graduation day! Time for the next step in my adventure!

I Get A Kick Out Of You – Hetty Kate + Sam Lemann

Anna. She's my best friend. I remember when Norma Howard tried to frame me for pickpocketing. Anna, no more than two thirds her weight, jumped on her back, wrapped her arms around her throat, and just rode her around campus screaming, "Justice! Justice!"

All That Jazz – The London Theatre Orchestra and Cast

And then there's Aunt Evelyn. She's eccentric, she's temperamental, she says that Prohibition saved drinking by taking it away from stinky men in saloons and giving it to women of refinement and long lists of friends, and I love her more than anything.

A Cool Cat In Town – Tape Five feat. Brenda Boykin

Dr Rudeger von Prenzwald? Old friend of the family. He was like the little brother my father never had. Plus he's the Graf of something-something. Good friend to have.

Archaeology – Danny Weinkauf

Professor Nigel Hemsworth is the best teacher I have this year. He doesn't have the kind of field experience I do, but a good heart is harder to come by. And that, Professor Hemsworth has in spades.

Fix The World Up For You – James Morrison

There was a time when Felix Weber was my best friend. Then he went one way, and I went another, and now its years later and all of a sudden he's someone who needs to shave, who has a job to support his mother and sisters.

Gangster of Love – Mark Bird Stafford

Sterling Evans: treasure-hunter, man-of-action, grifter and secret romantic. I think. What I'm sure he is is fun. I don't think I've ever met anyone as good as Sterling at making a girl crack a smile as the roof is caving in.

Secret Agent Man – Blues Traveler (Johnny Rivers on Spotify)

Roland (Smith, if that's his real name) is a smirking, secretive Briton of a man. I may occasionally feel uneasy trusting him, but so far he's never made me regret it. I just wish it was easier to make him trust me.

Dead Egyptian Blues – Trout Fishing In America

I know a prince. An Egyptian prince. From, heavens, I don't know? The Fourteenth Dynasty? This is not something that even my rather unusual upbringing prepared me for. Dad would be over the moon!

Anything You Can Do (I Can Do Better) – Alex Rathgeber + Caroline O’Connor

(Australia) Unfortunately, we had company... no matter how often we seemed to leave Sterling and his oh so stealthy car in the dust, we'd get to our next port of call to find he'd already beaten us there!

Hollow Hills – Bauhaus

Two words. Raeks… Karahkwa.

Love And Treachery – Madeleine Peyroux

Sterling: You were in my way, so... I. Beat. You.

New Orleans – Hoagy Carmichael

Oh, Anna, don't be grumpy! It's nearly Mardi Gras! Revelry, tomfoolery, and public drunkenness... what could possibly go wrong?

This Dark And Twisty Road – Abney Park

Oh Diary, I can't believe it! All that wondering about Sterling's 'sponsor', who he was and what kind of horrible monster he could be...

Draw Your Swords – Angus + Julia Stone

I nearly lost Sterling - again - today. In that moment, being so close to him and almost losing him like that, it was like all my feelings crystallized at once. And then he said he loved me, and they went goofy all over again.

Whatever Lola Wants – Sarah Vaughan

Lorelei: This dig site is closed 'til further notice, but my tent's still open for business.

Walking Wounded – Tea Party

Rudeger: You, Mr. Evans here, you don't know war. I do. Lore does--she grew up in its shadow. You talk about free will, but when the armies start moving there's no such thing. You're worrying about giving up something that's already lost. You just don't know it.

But For Now – Jamie Cullum

Sterling: What do you think you're doing? Sadie: Adding a touch of light to the dark.

#scheherazade #sadie keating #sterling evans #roland smith #nigel hemsworth #felix weber #1931 scheherazade at the library of pergamum

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mibasiamille · 7 years ago

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where you are

April 17th, 1945

I jumped as the shrill, metallic ring of the doorbell echoed through the foyer, the hairbrush in my hand clattering to the ground as I stood up. The motion had been so abrupt that the legs of the chair squeaked, sending uncomfortable shivers down my spine. Regaining my composure, I wiped my clammy hands on my skirt as I headed down the staircase, curious as to who my surprise visitor could be.

My nerves got the better of me with each step, gnawing at my insides and begging me to believe the worst. This happened frequently: my brain would jump directly to the worst conclusions, causing me to worry when there is nothing to worry about. But, for safe measure, I silently prayed to God that he was alright.

Lord, let him be safe.

After squaring my shoulders and feigning confidence, I unlocked the door and cracked it open, just enough for me to stand beside it.

On the doorstep stood two young men, both dressed in military uniforms. The first--Stafford, his nametag read--looked to be about Jamie’s age or older, with a square jaw and dark brown eyes. The younger boy, Anderson, was assuredly no older than twenty; he was a lanky lad, with his cap lopsided, obviously too big for his head, with the bill pulled far over the front of his face. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes until he looked up at me; they were blue, almost the same cerulean hue as Jamie’s.

Jamie. My heartbeat quickened at the thought of him.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” I inquired politely, pushing back the worry that still clouded my mind like a thick fog.

Stafford, after looking from Anderson back to me, removed his cap, asking in a soft voice, “Are you Mrs. Claire Fraser?”

“I am,” I answered, a lump forming in my throat.

“Mrs. Fraser,” He recited in a steady voice, “I have been asked to inform you that your husband, Captain James Fraser, has been reported dead in Berlin, Germany on April 16th, 1945 at 17:46 UTC.”

I blinked once, twice--the steady increase of my heart rate overpowering every other sound in the room. The boy was still talking, explaining to me the operation in which he had perished, but I was hearing none of it. In all honesty, I didn’t want to know--the important fact was clear; it had been ringing in my ears ever since he had spoken the words.

Your husband, James Fraser, Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

Everything felt off-balance, as if Jamie was the weight holding me in a spiritual equilibrium; with the absence of him, my scale tipped, leaving me uneven, broken. Alone.

I leaned into the door in an attempt to keep myself upright, holding on to it as if I was holding on to Jamie himself.

“We brought you his personal effects, ma’am,” Anderson murmured. Taking a small step forward, he placed the small box into my hands. “It might help bring you closure.”

The tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at the box, tracing the outline of it as if it was his cheek. Memories flooded into my mind as I pulled off the lid; his voice echoed through the silent air.

He had said to me once: I promise you, Claire, that ye wilna ever be alone; not now, not ever, so long as I am alive.

And what if you’re not alive, you bloody stubborn Scot! I thought in reply, an audible sob escaping my lips.

What will I do without you?

The box held a few things--trinkets, mostly: a few small stones, rubbed smooth around the edges with wear; a pocket Bible, worn and torn and well-loved, with stanzas underlined and notes written in the margins; his father’s ring, the ruby still as shiny and beautiful as it was when I had first seen it; a small, wooden snake, given to him by his older brother in their youth; a Victoria Cross, along with a few other pins, medallions, and awards for his service; a stack of envelopes, full of letters--my letters--tied together with a string; and, finally, a single piece of paper, addressed with a single word: Claire.

With shaking fingers, I placed the lid back on top and pulled the box closer to my chest. My head resting on the top, I allowed myself to be taken away by the roaring sea of emotions and into oblivion.

It was a week later when I finally left our bedroom; the snow had begun to fall in thick clusters to the ground, coating everything with translucent frost. The grass crunched underfoot as I made my way across the yard, filling the emptiness of the air with it.

The past few days had been difficult, to say the least; the majority of my time was spent in bed, inhaling the scent of him as I held his pillow close to my chest, desperate for anything that kept him with me.

Yesterday, Jenny had come to visit. She brought me flowers, along with some food and milk to help me get through the next week. I was still in bed when she came up the staircase to check on me.

There was no preamble; every word she said cut through the stagnant air like a blunt knife.

“You’re mourning, Claire; I understand it, but ye have to understand that he was my family, too.” She was standing in the doorway of the room to start, but with each new word she took a step closer. By the time she reached the foot of my bed, her lips began to tremble. Her breath caught as she continued, “He was my youngest brother--the last of us left, besides me. Everyone else from the Fraser family is dead, Claire. I have no one left…”

She paused, looking down at me with her eyes, as slanted and blue as my husband’s had been. The bed sunk as she sat beside me, her hand searching for mine. Having found it, she squeezed it hard in a vice-like grip. “Except you. You are all I have left of him, Claire. And I’ll be damned if I lose you, too.”

After exchanging hugs and softly spoken words of love and encouragement, she convinced me to come with her to Lallybroch for a few days.

And so here I was, on the grounds of his childhood home as snow fell in steady flurries towards the ground. The air still smelled so much like him: the thick musk of man, melded with sweet grass. The thistle bushes; the large, rolling hills of heather; the barns, the horses and the hay. I could feel him near me, his hands a leaden weight on my shoulders. My name, lightly passing my ear as the wind blew. Claire.

I made it to my intended destination not long after I left grounds of the estate. After the events of today, I wanted nothing more than to be left alone with my thoughts and my husband.

The gusts of wind became stronger as I climbed the hill, out of breath when I reached the crest. Jamie had told me once that all of the Fraser ancestors had been buried here since the late 18th century. His father, Brian, was buried here, on the left side of his wife, Ellen, and two brothers, Robert and Willie. To Willie’s right was Jamie.

Since there were no remains to be sent, all that we could bury was his box of possessions; the last things that he had owned before his death. We had opted to keep everything in the box except for his father’s ring, the stack of my letters and the small piece of paper addressed to me. I still hadn’t opened the letter yet--couldn’t, out of the fear of what was written inside.

“Ye could go a lifetime wi’out readin’ it, Claire,” Jenny had told me this morning. “But do you really want to spend all yer days wonderin’ what he had said?”

The paper was in my coat pocket, slightly crumbled under my hand. I pulled it out gingerly and held it between thumb and forefinger, staring at my name, written in his fine script on the front.

Tears formed in my eyes and my hands began to shake as I carefully unfolded the page.

Mo Nighean--

Despite whatever happens on this day, know that no matter where I am, I love you. Know that my heart is wherever you are, as well as my soul; that we are one flesh, one body, one soul, and I will be with you, always.

If I must wait in purgatory to be with you once more, than that is the punishment I deserve for all the crimes I have committed throughout my lifetime. But know that I have no regrets, nor fear for what lies ahead of me. I lived a fulfilling life, for the Lord has given me a rare woman, and I loved her well.

My tears had covered the page in small blots, causing the ink to run. I ran my sleeve over my cheeks in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay, but I couldn’t stop them as I read the final lines of the letter, written in a messier hand than the paragraphs before it.

I will find you, Claire. I promise.

My nose began to run as the streams down my cheeks became rivers, supplying a constant flow of water towards my chin. I wiped the end of my nose and then my neck with my sleeve as I folded up the paper, not needing to read the words again, for I had already ingrained them into my brain.

I will find you. I promise.

Come find me, Jamie.

Gaining my composure, I couldn’t help but glance downwards to the stone. Unable to stop myself, I reached out to it and traced his name delicately with my finger, almost as if that was the only way to tell myself that it was real; that he was truly gone.

I stood, unable to take it any longer, and turned away from the marble slab, making my way back down the hill towards Lallybroch. Overhead, a crow cawed loudly, annoyed by my immediate disturbance of the peace.

The snow was falling intensely now, blanketing the surrounding areas in a thick blanket of white. I felt like I was walking through some kind of purgatory: bright, white, and void of life. The crow cawed louder this time, the sound reverberating off the trees like an echo in a cave.

In the distance, about a hundred yards ahead, I saw a figure approaching through the light blizzard. The wind whistled and swirled around me, throwing my hair about my face and blocking my view. I brushed it aside as I squinted my eyes in a vain attempt to get a better view of the visitor.

My heart lurched, seeming to know who it was before my brain had; its beats steadily increased with each new step I took. At first I had assumed it was Ian, coming to fetch me for dinner; but as the figure approached, I realized that he didn’t have the distinguished hobble that Ian’s strides possessed.

The wind blew past my ears, carrying a distorted whisper to my ears.

Claire.

My soul called back in kind, Jamie.

Claire!

The figure’s pace quickened, limping through the snow in order to get closer to me. I paused, staring into the snow-covered haze.

A ghost? My mind pondered as I stopped in my tracks. The wind howled, whipping ice and frost across my already frozen face.

“Jamie?” I tested his name on my lips, voice shaking and heart thundering in my chest.

“Claire!” The voice responded, filled with anguish.

I shook my head, tearing my eyes away from the steadily approaching figure. You fool, he’s dead.

“Claire!”

He was getting closer, and my body tensed on the spot, refusing to move. I couldn’t take a step forward or backward, no matter how hard I tried.

“He’s dead, Beauchamp,” I whispered to myself as he came into view, emerging from the snowy brume. Squeezing my eyes shut, I reiterated, “Jamie’s dead.”

“Claire.” His voice was thick, as if he hadn’t spoken in weeks. “Claire, please, look at me.”

“You’re not here.”

I heard the snow crunch as he shuffled his feet, taking a step closer to me. “I’m here, I--I found ye.”

A hand touched my cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. My eyes snapped open.

“I’m here,” He murmured as his hand rose to the other side of my face. “Mo ghraidh.”

I jumped backwards, a foot or so of space separating us. A look of hurt crossed over his face, but was immediately replaced by confusion.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered to myself, wiping my eyes with the back of my gloves, since my sleeves were already soaked with tears. Looking back to his form, he stood still before me, not interacting at all to the cold winds surrounding us. “You are not here. You are dead.”

He released a breath, long and slow; it made mist form at the side of his mouth, like smoke from a dragon. “Claire, can’t you see me? Can’t you feel me?” Filling the space between us once more, he grabbed the sides of my face with his hands. “I am not dead.”

“I…” I closed my eyes, shaking my head as if it would rid me of him. When I opened them again, he was still before me, hands on my cheeks and his breath blowing softly on my face. He was so close I could see the flecks of green and hazel surrounding the irises of his eyes. “I don’t understand… they told me you had--”

“I almost did,” he admitted, running his hands further around my head to the base of my skull and grabbing the hair there. “I was very close to death, yes. But I was saved, and I’ve come back to you, Claire.”

My mind was running at a thousand miles an hour, trying to ingest his words. I almost did.

He wasn’t dead. He was alive.

“You’re here,” was all that I could say, bringing my hands up from my sides and taking position on his face. His eyes closed partially as I did this, but refused to leave me as I ran my hands down his neck to his shoulders, his arms, his hands. I grasped them hard against my neck, as if I was afraid of him letting go; releasing my hair, he wrapped them around my own before bringing them to his chest. He stepped closer and as did I, filling in the remaining space between us. Our foreheads pressed together, all it took was for him to look me in the eyes before I kissed him.

It was slow, like pouring honey out of a jar. His lips were warm despite the cold, and I could feel myself melting to him like snowflakes on a windowpane, evaporating into mist. My arms wrapped around him and his around me, pulling each other as close as we could possibly get.

A moment later, when he pulled away for a breath, I murmured, “You better not leave me ever again, James Fraser, unless you take me with you.”

He smiled against my lips, pecking them once, twice, before replying, “I will only ever be where you are, mo nighean donn. Always.”

thanks to @cagedbirdsong and @internallydeceased for the prompt! x

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rationedwell · 8 years ago

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@shutxemdown wanted new music, and i’m lazy so i’m posting it all here.

hellfire, barns courtney.

dark side, bishop briggs.

burn fast, bryce fox.

dust in your pocket, glass animals.

you’re the one that i want, lo-fang.

keep going, the revivalists.

anchor, novo amor.

david, noah gundersen.

there’s something dark, dustin kensrue.

revolver, vian izak.

afraid, no wyld.

hi-lo, bishop briggs.

gold, sir sly.

get up, tj stafford.

adrenaline, matt nathanson.

when you love someone, james tw.

happy accidents, saint motel.

red hot lights, moon taxi.

into the darkness, the phantoms.

hold on for your life, sam tinnesz.

halfway to hell, eliot summer.

sail away, ben hazelwood.

caves, haux.

bartholomew, the silent comedy.

darlin’, houndmouth.

high by the beach, modern space.

desperado, rihanna.

fml, k. flay.

#icanteven, the neighbourhood.

glory, jamie n commons.

oceans away, a r i z o n a .

the next right thing, seth glier.

when the truth hunts you down, sam tinnesz.

call me devil, friends in tokyo.

black car, leon else.

in the dark, reignwolf.

loud(y), lewis del mar.

watch me, the phantoms.

until the levee, joy williams.

difference maker, needtobreathe.

the safety dance, sleeping at last.

it don’t get better than this, royal deluxe.

family, noah gundersen.

dear god, lawless.

your future is not mine ( illangelo rmx ), daisy.

back to me, marian hill.

the drugs, mother mother.

shameless, tyler glenn.

nothing, locksley.

winning streak, glen hansard.

boy got it bad, kail baxley.

kansas city, the new basement tapes.

troublemaker, grizfolk.

tip of my tongue, the civil wars.

boris, lo-fang.

lunatics and slaves, sin shake sin.

crossfire pt. 2, stephen feat. talib kweli & killagraham.

can’t sleep, k. flay.

move, saint motel.

one time, marian hill.

crazy, james tw.

gold, chet faker.

deliverance, ry x.

reload, saint phnx.

i was wrong ( robin schulz rmx ), a r i z o n a .

whiskey please, whissell.

man or monster, sam tinnesz & zayde wolf.

hypnotic, zella day.

death song, bhi bhiman.

bad moon rising, the mynabirds.

long way down, robert delong.

set in stone, brandyn burnette.

all along the watchtower, jamie n commons.

the morning after, meg myers.

grown up, no wyld.

kill our way to heaven, michl.

pray ( empty gun ), bishop briggs.

bad habits, monsieur adi.

losing you, aquilo.

farewell nancy, ed harcourt.

trouble town, jake bugg.

honest songs, noah gundersen.

sedona, houndmouth.

out for you, colyer.

run devil run, crowder.

ready set let’s go, sam tinnesz.

fighting, saints of valory.

chasing twisters, delta rae.

comfort to you, cullah.

this is a war, the phantoms.

mightiest of guns, a.a. bondy.

devil on my back, stoney.

the mtn song, rayland baxter.

witching hour, dan owen.

trouble, ray lamontagne.

wolves without teeth, of monsters and men.

flow, shawn james.

lost, scared & tired, jared & the mill.

ride on / right on, phosphorescent.

push + pull, july talk.

halfway to nowhere, chelou.

wild horses, bishop briggs.

blood in the cut ( aire atlantica rmx ), k. flay.

trash, tyler glenn.

plans, oh wonder.

immortal, elley duhe.

i don’t love you, cruel youth.

used to, mutemath.

jungle ( great good fine ok rmx ), x ambassadors & jamie n commons

and even though i’m pretty sure everyone and their mom has heard this, I gotta add in:

the sound of silence, disturbed.

#;; i was gonna link them but uh #;; there's a lot of them #;; you got hands #— ᴏʀ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ғʀᴇᴇ ❜ ( ooc. )

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tachyonpub · 7 years ago

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Tachyon tidbits featuring Jane Yolen, Peter S. Beagle, Jo Walton, and Nalo Hopkinson

The latest reviews and mentions of Tachyon titles and authors from around the web.

Jane Yolen (photo: Jason Stemple), Peter S. Beagle (Rina Weisman), Jo Wallton, and Nalo Hopkinson (Sanna Pudas)

KIRKUS praises Jane Yolen’s THE EMERALD CIRCUS.

An impressive overview of the author's breadth and career, this collection will appeal to the author's existing devotees—or to anyone who has ever thought that "happily ever after" left too many questions.

Cheryl Eddy at IO9 includes Peter S. Beagle’s forthcoming collection THE OVERNEATH among All the Science Fiction and Fantasy Books to Keep on Your Radar This Fall.

This short-story collection includes a callback to the author’s classic, THE LAST UNICORN, along with several other new fantasy tales.

At the 2017 Edinburgh International Book Festival, FANTASY FACTION interviewed Jo Walton

Your most recent series of novels, the THESSALY trilogy, came to an end last year. It deals with time travel, alien planets and Plato’s REPUBLIC. What is it like writing something so complex yet keeping it engaging and approachable?

It is actually quite an old fashioned thing. It is a family saga, a generational saga. The first book is about Greek gods and philosophers from throughout time, a handful of slave children, and a bunch of robots setting up Plato’s Republic. The first book takes place a bit over ten years. It’s kind of a Utopian experiment with, and one of the things I say about it is, what could possibly go wrong? Well, things go wrong and things go right. What I wanted to do with it is explore issues of liberty and consensuality and axiomatically different ways of thinking about living. Different things are important to these people. Plato said, start with ten-year-olds, as if ten-year-olds are nothing, are blank. But ten-year-olds are not blank slates. And, I think, because I read THE REPUBLIC (380 BC) when I was fifteen, I was very aware of that.

You have a short story collection coming out at the beginning of next year.

Yes, yes I do. STARLINGS, which has all of my short stories that have been published, and a play, and a bunch of poetry. I very seldom write short stories, but I write poetry all the time. So this is my first short story collection but my third poetry collection. STARLINGS, is coming out from Tachyon in January.

Now that the Thessaly series has come to an end, what’s next for Jo Walton?

Right now I’m writing a book called LENT, which is about Savonarola. My short hand way of describing this is it’s Savonarola Groundhog Day. It’s not probably what you would expect but I’m really enjoying it. I’ve written sixty thousand words and I’m probably about 60% of the way through it. I was just in Florence for six weeks writing it, and I got so much done. If I had stayed there another two weeks I would have finished it. But I’m hoping it’ll be done by Christmas. I’m very excited about that book.

Changing Hands Bookstore via Instagram shared this about Nalo Hopkinson’s FALLING IN LOVE WITH HOMINIDS.

For #SciFiSunday today we're #reading Nalo Hopkinson's short story collection, FALLING IN LOVE WITH HOMINIDS. Hopkinson, who was born in Jamaica and has lived in the U.S., Trinidad, Guyana, and Canada, continues to "expand the boundaries of culture and imagination" here. There's a retelling of THE TEMPEST as a Caribbean myth in this collection that is not to be missed!

For more info on THE EMERALD CIRCUS, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover design by Elizabeth Story

For more info on THE OVERNEATH, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover design by Elizabeth Story

For more info on STARLINGS, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover design by Elizabeth Story

For more information on FALLING IN LOVE WITH HOMINIDS, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover art by Chuma Hill

Design by Elizabeth Story

#jane yolen #peter s beagle #jo walton #nalo hopkinson #kirkus #the emerald circus #cheryl eddy #io9 #fantasy faction #edinburgh book festival #changing hands bookstore #elizabeth story #chuma hill

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goobergunch · 4 years ago

Photo

Cover by Jamie Stafford-Hill and Gregory Manchess, 2018.

#Lady Astronaut #The Calculating Stars #Mary Robinette Kowal #alternate history #book cover

0 notes

businessliveme · 5 years ago

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London Readies for Hot New Restaurants

(Bloomberg) — Daniel Humm of Eleven Madison Park in New York is just one of the chefs set to open restaurants in London later this year as the dynamism of the city’s dining scene shows little sign of slowing, even in the face of high-profile casualties such as Jamie Oliver.

British and overseas chefs keep coming up with new ideas, including a cheese restaurant, an Israeli-inspired brasserie, a seafood establishment inspired by Maison Premiere in Brooklyn, and the long-awaited arrival of Turkish butcher-turned-restaurateur Salt Bae, sprinkling a little Instagram magic over prime steaks.

A weakening pound has made imports pricey for local chefs, but the currency’s decline is likely to bring more tourists to London while discouraging Britons from traveling to continental Europe.

Read: The World’s Best Restaurants: 2019

And prime sites such as Jamie Oliver’s Barbecoa, near St. Paul’s Cathedral, are being snapped up by other operators. (Barbecoa has been taken over by restaurateur Richard Caring’s Caprice Holdings, which is turning it into the Ivy Asia.)

If you want to plan your dining diary for the rest of the year, here’s the pick of the new restaurants to look out for.

September

The Betterment, Mayfair

Jason Atherton is the highest-profile of TV chef Gordon Ramsay’s proteges, with restaurants around the world, including the Clocktower in New York. Hit latest London outpost is in the Biltmore hotel, immediately across Grosvenor Square from the TV chef’s Lucky Cat. Atherton will serve a seasonal menu of wood-fired fish and meats, as well as salads and vegetable-based plates. At the heart of the restaurant will be a rustic open grill. Head chef will be Paul Walsh, who won a Michelin star for Atherton at City Social.

We are very close to revealing sneak peeks of the brand new restaurant – who’s excited?! #thebetterment #thebettermentmayfair #thebiltmoremayfair #comingsoon #jasonatherton pic.twitter.com/N2wb1geJ63

— The Betterment (@the_betterment_) 9 July 2019

Haya, Notting Hill

This neighborhood Mediterranean restaurant is inspired by founder Victoria Paltina’s visits to Tel Aviv, a city whose culinary influence is increasingly being felt in London. It will be an all-day restaurant. At lunchtimes, there will be sharing plates with seasonal ingredients, including quinoa salad, crumbled feta cheese and pomegranate seeds; and spiced lamb cutlets with a spoonful of honey yoghurt. In the evening, the focus will be on small plates such as zaatar duck breast, freekeh risotto; crispy prawns, spicy yoghurt and harissa.

Lina Stores, King’s Cross

Lina Stores traces its history as a Soho delicatessen back 75 years, but last year’s opening of a simple restaurant nearby grabbed a lot of attention. Its popularity can mean a long wait for a table. Now, the owners are opening a combined store and trattoria under one roof, near Granary Square. It is housed inside a converted Victorian building, with room for 100 diners. Expect excellent and inexpensive pasta dishes from chef Masha Rena, using family recipes. The menu will be expanded from Soho and desserts will be served from a retro trolley.

It’s a risotto kind of afternoon 🍂🍄🇮🇹 #porcini https://t.co/XJCaQzptrQ pic.twitter.com/V64z2arOeq

— Lina Stores (@linastores) 1 October 2017

Loyal Tavern, Bermondsey

Former Duck & Waffle chef Tom Cenci is opening this neighborhood restaurant in Bermondsey on the site of the former Village East with that venue’s founder, restaurateur Adam White. The menu will focus on British comfort food, with small plates using local sustainable produce. Dishes may include options such as Cornish mackerel with apple, pine nut and truffle; and venison tartar with beef dripping. Cenci started in Michelin restaurants in Paris and London.

Norma, Fitzrovia

The Stafford London, a discreet luxury hotel in Mayfair, is opening its first independent restaurant. Culinary Director Ben Tish is the man behind Norma, inspired by the food and culture of Sicily. It will occupy three floors of a historic townhouse in Fitzrovia and will feature a cocktail bar and a private dining room. The restaurant will be open all day and promises old-school hospitality in a contemporary setting.

Read: Where Top Chefs Eat in Mumbai

Pick & Cheese, Covent Garden

This newcomer to Seven Dials bills itself as the U.K.’s first conveyor-belt cheese restaurant. If that sounds like a gimmick you can live without, there is a serious cheese-lover behind the idea. Mathew Carver works closely with small producers. He will serve dishes such as Gubbeen with sweet and sour pineapple; and Rollright with a Treacle Spread. There will also be British charcuterie plates by Tottenham’s Black Hand Food. The natural wine list will be by Les Caves de Pyrene.

Seabird, Southwark

This new restaurant atop The Hoxton, Southwark, is a collaboration with the team behind Maison Premiere in Brooklyn. Seabird promises London’s longest oyster list, a marble raw bar and impressive views. The menu focuses on Spanish and Portuguese flavors, with dishes such as Cornish plaice a la plancha with Morecombe Bay shrimps and capers. William Elliott, the bar director of Maison Premiere, has created the drinks list, which focuses on exotic cocktails available on draught, bottled or frozen.

Sons + Daughters, King’s Cross

James Ramsden and Sam Herlihy, the duo behind East London restaurant Pidgin, are opening their take on a classic sandwich shop in Coal Drops Yard. Sons and Daughters will be open all day, serving freshly made sandwiches and sides, plus ice cream and a bar menu along with cocktails and soft drinks.

There will be six sandwiches at lunch and dinner, including options such as the Tenderstem, with broccoli, mushroom relish, coconut sambal, açai and cashew cream served in a baguette. The kitchen will be headed up by head chef Jacqueline Barbosa—previously of the Guinea Grill and Where the Pancakes.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by sons + daughters (@s_and_d_wich) on Aug 5, 2019 at 6:34am PDT

October

Kolamba, Soho

The popularity of a Soho restaurant called Hoppers has created considerable interest in Sri Lankan cuisine. The latest opening promises “big flavors from a small island” served over two floors. Owners Eroshan and Aushi Meewella promise home-style cooking from family recipes on a menu that will feature many vegetarian and vegan options in addition to spicy fish and meat dishes.

Sam’s Riverside, Hammersmith

Rowley Leigh, a respected veteran London chef, is culinary director of this all-day brasserie and bar adjacent to the Riverside Studios. He promises a modern European menu, with a focus on Anglo-French dishes. The head chef will be Harvey Trollope, who previously worked at the Ritz restaurant, and whose resume includes Wheelers of St James, with Marco Pierre White; Enoteca Rossini in Florence and Leon de Lyon in France.

Silo, Hackney Wick

Chef Doug McMaster, an alumnus of St. John, is relocating his Silo zero-waste restaurant to London from Brighton. Silo will be housed in Crate brewery, following a crowdfunding campaign from Crate. While zero-waste is a fashion, catching the attention of chefs and publicists, McMaster is almost an obsessive. Everything is recycled. Silo first opened in 2014 and became known for its plates made from plastic bags, tables from floor tiles and work benches from filing cabinets.

Trivet, Bermondsey

Chef Jonny Lake and sommelier Isa Bal, who worked together for more than 12 years at Heston Blumenthal’s Fat Duck, have come together to create this restaurant, wine bar and cellar in Bermondsey. They say they plan to explore ingredients, dishes and drinks from regions around the world in a restaurant combining functional Nordic design with warm Mediterranean service and a sense of fun. No, we have no idea what that means, either. But all those years at the Fat Duck surely promise experimentation and creativity.

November

Café Murano, Bermondsey

Angela Hartnett plans to open a third branch of her casual Italian restaurant on Bermondsey Street, and Café Murano Bermondsey will offer many of the dishes from the menus at St. James and Covent Garden: Ossobuco alla Milanese; and Anolini in brodo. Café Murano is known for being friendly and informal, like Hartnett herself, a popular chef who was once the protégé of Gordon Ramsay and likes to celebrate her Italian heritage. Chef Adam Jay from St. James will head the kitchen.

Daffodil Mulligan, Shoreditch

Chef Richard Corrigan’s new restaurant and bar will celebrate the food and culture of his native Ireland. He’s planning to cook with produce from his own estate in Ireland, and he has partnered with the Irish restaurateur John Nugent in what looks like a labor of love. He’s already lining up Irish musicians to perform in the basement bar. Corrigan is a high-profile chef, known for TV appearances as well as for his other London restaurants, Bentley’s and Corrigan’s Mayfair.

Davies and Brook, Mayfair

Chef Humm of Eleven Madison Park plans to open his first European outpost at the luxury Claridge’s hotel in London. The plan is for a gourmet restaurant in the smart-casual style of the New York mothership, only without the lengthy tasting menus. Humm’s former business partner Will Guidara was heavily involved in the planning, but the two friends have now gone their separate ways.

Locket’s, St James’s

This is the new café and wine bar from the owners of Wiltons, a charming old-style establishment that traces its history to 1742. They’re shaking it up a little in the former Economist Building (now Smithson Plaza), serving healthy salads and other dishes (including to go) at lunchtimes and small plates to accompany wines in the evening. The plan is for 40 reds and 40 whites—many available by the glass—from regions such as the U.S. East Coast, the Czech republic and Austria. It will be open all day.

December

Nusr-Et Steakhouse, Knightsbridge

Superstar Turkish chef butcher-turned-restaurateur Nusret Gökçe, alias Salt Bae, has long been rumored to be planning his London debut at the Park Tower Knightsbridge. But there is precious little firm information about the Nusr-Et steakhouse. Speculation now centers on a December opening. It remains to be seen when Londoners, like New Yorkers, will welcome the opportunity to pay huge prices for steaks sprinkled with Salt Bae magic.

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