tell me steph doesn’t see tumblr without telling me. honestly this just keeps just odder. people on tumblr have been saying if they spent time with his family why wasn’t she following his family & vice versa. she suddenly is now. the more problems are discussed about this circus the more those issues are dealt with one by one. the fish smells worse every day. Oh and hi steph.
I don’t think it’s her personally, but someone is.
I'm happy to say I'm completely out of this circus, his circus, now, totally detoxed, but I keep seeing your posts guys and I laugh my ass off seeing it's Rackoon playbook 2.0.
Same rules, same stunts, same online trolling and blogs watch&drop.
When you see someone living their lives normally with her own husband and son and then you see a forty something involved in this shit, you ask yourself why. And the answer gets clearer and clearer each passing year.
@its-moopoint and I were talking the other day and I couldn’t remember the name of some of the characters or the actors’ names 😂😂😂 I said: “Well, I guess I truly moved on 🤪”
I think, but someone correct me, DG threw Sam and Cait under the bus for wanting to move on from the show. Apparently Starz wanted to keep going but they didn’t. Saw it posted a little while back as something she said. DG is a piece of work. I haven’t been able to watch or listen to her since the show first aired.
I wouldn’t be surprised… But she has no one to blame but herself for taking so long to finish the series.
I also think she is hating the fact that people are loving a show about Claire’s parents since she deemed them uninteresting and killed them off in the books. She feels the need to post excerpts from the BOMB book she is writing and that it obviously doesn’t feature Julia and Henry.
Claire fell in love with Jamie and she was conflicted about Frank so I wasn’t bothered about that.
I hated Jamie kissing Laoghaire while married to Claire. He knew how the lass felt about him so it was a cruel thing to do.
I read the part of the book where Jamie got raped by BJR and it was so disturbing that I didn’t watch it when it was portrayed in the show. t was sick.🤢
Claire having sex with the French king was transactional. I didn’t mind.
Claire fucking Frank in the future was fine with me. For all she knew Jamie was dead and she was never going back.
Jamie fucking Mary in the cave was fine with me for the same reasons as Claire fucking Frank.
Frank cheating on Claire didn’t bother me. Their marriage was dysfunctional. They should have gotten a divorce but she was cheating on him emotionally.
Jamie fucking Geneva was sick too. She was too young and he didn’t have to “enjoy” it so much if he was just doing her a favor.
Jamie marrying and fucking Laoghaire was a big betrayal. Yes, he didn’t know that Claire would return but Laoghaire tried to get Claire killed!
Claire fucking Lord John was unnecessary and an example of DG’s twisted mind. He could have married her to give her his last name and protection without having to sleep with her, especially because he loved Jamie and she loved Jamie too.
I haven’t seen BOMB so not sure what the context for those last two is.
Diana posted this on her Facebook page about the PREQUEL. She made sure to mention that it would have nothing to do with Claire’s parents because she is not interested in writing about them 🤷🏻♀️
For those of you who have started watching BOMB, how does this compare to the show? Just curious over here.
DG has been passive aggressively undermining anything involving the production of OL since day one, and now she will do the same with BOMB. Narcissist can't handle anyone else getting attention. Look at how she has behaved at panels? Every sentence begins with, Well....
This is the nature of the business. You write a book, you get an offer, you sell away your rights to the material. The problem with narcissists is that they will never concede the attention away from themselves. This, in particular, because there is less source material, should be a wild ride if the story gets further away from what is in her head. She just may lose her shit over this.
Either she hurries writing or that moment may arrive with OL show ending before her own saga and choosing better options or spoiling her book unadvertetly advancing stuff.
But then I read she told some fan at a recent con when asked whether final book will be ready by next year "well look into my eyes, you are looking at me here (at the con) so it's actually your fault that book 10 ain't finished". Or something along those lines.
Didn’t George R.R. Martin warn her about what happens when the tv shows go past your written books? Wasn’t Game of Thrones’ last season enough of a cautionary tale for her?
Complaining cons making it harder for her to finish the book while she pockets a good amount of money for going to said con is… interesting.
What I think it happened is that she thought that STARZ would do a season per book having her time to finish number 10 and she was pretty shocked that season 8 would be the last season. I don’t think it was cancelled because of lack of viewership (although it might not be as much as it once was) but I think that once the 10 years were up and it was time for renegotiating not everybody was up for it (understandably so).
It doesn’t help that she is surrounded by “best fans ever” that see nothing wrong with what she says or does (even when rude) and then she has the gall to point at her neurodiversity as the reason why she is plain rude sometimes.
Diana posted this on her Facebook page about the PREQUEL. She made sure to mention that it would have nothing to do with Claire’s parents because she is not interested in writing about them 🤷🏻♀️
For those of you who have started watching BOMB, how does this compare to the show? Just curious over here.
Diana posted this on her Facebook page about the PREQUEL. She made sure to mention that it would have nothing to do with Claire’s parents because she is not interested in writing about them 🤷🏻♀️
For those of you who have started watching BOMB, how does this compare to the show? Just curious over here.
It’s interesting the way she is going about talking about the show. I think she is conflicted.
She likes the idea of it being made because of the extra exposure but I think that it bothers her that they are not adapting one of her already written books instead.
Diana posted this on her Facebook page about the PREQUEL. She made sure to mention that it would have nothing to do with Claire’s parents because she is not interested in writing about them 🤷🏻♀️
For those of you who have started watching BOMB, how does this compare to the show? Just curious over here.
What’s all this fixation on “no chemistry” among the actors? The show hasn’t even aired yet!
Are they afraid of ginger god’s throne being usurped? Don’t tell me there was no fan service hip humping on the red carpet? That’s the barometer being used to determine the possible success…or to them…failure of the show?
Watch it, or don’t. But let’s not act like this isn’t all about trying to keep the fantasy ship afloat. There ARE other love stories that can be interesting
Enjoying BOMB is not a traitorous act against DG, if you’re a fan… which I am not. I can enjoy writing without liking the author. Michael Crichton was a narcissist too. Didn’t stop me from reading many of his books.
And if I may just mention The Godfather Part II? To many critics, it’s considered even better than the original and most of that story was manufactured on the heels of the original.
Don’t come after me. I’m not saying BOMB will be as good as OL, but can’t we just enjoy it for what it is? An extension of the story we all fell in love with.
⚠️ This post is ridiculously long. It includes three passages from Bees that relate to Season 7’s surprising cliffhanger ending, and an explanation from Diana Gabaldon on what put that crazy idea in the scriptwriter/showrunner heads.
From “the book”
"This is all I have," she said, her voice hoarse as a young toad's. "Just this and her wock — locket."
"This?" Jamie stirred the little pile gently with a big forefinger and withdrew a small brass oval, dangling on a chain. "Is it a miniature of Jane, then, or maybe a lock of her hair?"
Fanny shook her head, taking the locket from him.
"No," she said. "It's a picture of our muv — mother." She slid a thumbnail into the side of the locket and flicked it open. I bent forward to look, but the miniature inside was hard to see, shadowed as it was by Jamie's body.
"May I?"
Fanny handed me the locket and I turned to hold it close to the candle. The woman inside had dark, softly curly hair like Fanny's — and I thought I could make out a resemblance to Jane in the nose and set of the chin, though it wasn't a particularly skillful rendering.
Behind me, I heard Jamie say, quite casually, "Frances, no man will ever take ye against your will, while I live."
There was a startled silence, and I turned round to see Fanny staring up at him. He touched her hand, very gently.
"D'ye believe me, Frances?" he said quietly.
"Yes," she whispered, after a long moment, and all the tension left her body in a sigh like the east wind.
Jemmy leaned against me, head pressing my elbow, and I realized that I was just standing there, my eyes full of tears. I blotted them hastily on my sleeve and pressed the locket closed. Or tried to; it slipped in my fingers and I saw that there was a name inscribed inside it, opposite the miniature.
Faith, it said.
…
Faith. Our mother, Fanny had said. I'd looked more than once at the miniature in the locket — but it was too small to show anything more than a young woman with dark hair, maybe naturally curly, maybe curled and dressed in the fashion of the times.
No. It can't be. I rolled over for the dozenth time, settling on my stomach and burying my face in the pillow, in hopes of losing myself in the scent of clean linen and goose down.
"It can't be what, Sassenach?" Jamie's voice spoke in my ear, sleepily resigned. “And if it can't, can it not wait 'til dawn?"
I rolled onto my side in a rustle of bedding, facing him.
"I'm sorry," I said, and touched him apologetically. His hand took mine automatically, warm and firm. "I didn't realize I'd said it out loud. I was... just thinking about Fanny's locket."
Faith.
"Ach," he said, and stretched himself a little, groaning. "Ye mean the name. Faith?"
"Well... yes. I mean — it can't possibly... have anything to do with—”
"It's no an uncommon name, Sassenach." His thumb rubbed gently over my knuckles. "Of course ye'd... feel it. I did, too."
"Did you?" I said softly. I cleared my throat a little. "I — I don't really do it anymore, but for a time, just—just every now and then — I'd think of her, of our Faith — out of nowhere. I'd imagine I could feel her near me."
"Imagine what she might look like — grown?" His voice was soft, too. "I did that, sometimes. In prison, mostly; too much time to think, in the nights. Alone."
I made a small sound and hitched closer, laying my head in the curve of his shoulder, and his arm came round me. We lay still, silent, listening to the night and the house around us. Full of our family— but with one small angel hovering in the calm sweet air, peaceful as rising smoke.
"The locket," I said at last. "It can't possibly have anything whatever to do with—”
"No, it can't," he said, a cautious note in his voice. "But what are ye thinking, Sassenach? Because ye're no thinking what ye just said, and I ken that fine."
That was true, and a spasm of guilt at being found out tightened my body.
"It can't be," I said, and swallowed. "It's only…” My words died away and his hand rubbed between my shoulder blades.
"Well, ye'd best tell me, Sassenach," he said. "Nay matter how foolish it is, neither one of us will sleep until ye do."
"Well... you know what Roger told me, about the doctor he met in the Highlands, and the blue light?"
"I do. What…"
"Roger asked me if I'd ever seen blue light like that — when I was healing people."
The hand on my back stilled.
"Have ye?" He sounded guarded, though I didn't know whether he was afraid of finding out something he didn't want to know, or just finding out that I was losing my mind.
"No," I said. "Or not — well, no. But... I have seen it. Felt it. Twice. Just a flash, when Malva's baby died." Died in my hands, covered with his mother's blood. “But when Faith was born, when I was so ill. I was dying — really dying, I felt it — and Master Raymond came."
"Ye told me that much," he said. "Is there more?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. "But this is what I thought happened." And I told him, about seeing my bones glow blue through the flesh of my arms, the feeling of the light spreading through my body and the infection dying, leaving me limp, but whole and healing.
"So... um... I know this is nothing but pure fantasy, the sort of thing you think in the middle of the night when you can't sleep..."
He made a low noise, indicating that I should stop apologizing and get on with it. So I took a deep breath and did, whispering the words into his chest.
"Master Raymond was there. What if — if he found... Faith... and was able to... somehow bring her… back?"
Dead silence. I swallowed and went on.
"People… aren't always dead, even though it looks like it. Look at old Mrs. Wilson! Every doctor knows — or has heard — about people who've been declared dead and wake up later in the morgue."
"Or in a coffin." He sounded grim, and a shudder went over me. "Aye, I've heard stories like that. But — a wee babe and one born too soon — how…”
"I don't know how!" I burst out. "I said it's complete fantasy, it can't be true! But — but —" My throat thickened and my voice squeaked.
"But ye wish it were?" His hand cupped the back of my head and his voice was quiet again. "Aye. But... if it was, mo chridhe, why would he not have told ye? Ye saw him again, no? After he'd healed ye, I mean."
"Yes." I shuddered, momentarily feeling the King of France's Star Chamber close around me, the smell of the King's perfume, of dragon's blood and wine in the air — and two men before me, awaiting my sentence of death.
"Yes, I know. But — when the Comte died, Raymond was banished, and they took him away. He couldn't have told me then, and he might not have been able to come back before we left Paris."
It sounded insane, even to me. But I could — just — see it: Master Raymond, stealing out of L'Hôpital des Anges after leaving me, perhaps ducking aside to avoid notice, hiding in the place where the nuns had, perhaps, laid Faith on a shelf, wrapped in her swaddling clothes.
He would have known her, as he'd known me...
Everyone has a color about them, he said simply. All around them, like a cloud. Yours is blue, madonna. Like the Virgin's cloak. Like my own.
One of his. The thought came out of nowhere, and I stiffened.
"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ." What if — all right, I was insane, but too late for that to make a difference.
"What if he — if I, we — what if Master Raymond is — was — somehow related to me?"
Jamie said nothing, but I felt his hand move, under my hair. His middle finger folded down and the outer ones stood up straight, making the sign of the horns, against evil.
"And what if he's not?" he said dryly. He rolled me off him and turned toward me so we were face-to-face. The darkness was slowly fading and I could see his face, drawn with tiredness, touched with sorrow and tenderness, but still determined.
"Even if everything ye've made yourself think was somehow true — and it's not, Sassenach; ye ken it's not — but if it were somehow true, it wouldna make any difference. The woman in Frances's locket is dead now, and so is our Faith."
His words touched the raw place in my heart, and I nodded, tears welling.
"I know," I whispered.
"I know, too," he whispered, and held me while I wept.
— Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone, Chapter 24, Alarms By Night
"Ian — I wanted to ask you a favor." One eyebrow went up.
"Name it, Auntie."
"Well... Jamie said that you plan to stop in Philadelphia. I wondered.." I felt myself blushing, much to my annoyance. His other eyebrow rose.
"Whatever it is, Auntie, I'll do it," he said, one side of his mouth curling. "I promise."
"Well... I, um, want you to go to a brothel."
The eyebrows came down and he stared hard at me, obviously thinking he hadn't heard aright.
"A brothel," I repeated, somewhat louder. "In Elfreth's Alley."
He stood motionless for a moment, then turned and put the cheese back on the shelf, and glanced down at the clear brown water of the creek rushing past our feet.
"This might take a bit of time to explain, aye? Let's go out into the sun."
— Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone, Chapter 59, Special Requests
IAN CAME BACK from his visit to Elfreth's Alley in something of a brown study, oblivious to the shouts of dairymaids and beer sellers.
He'd thought he might have to expend considerable time and money in order to get the inhabitants of the brothel to talk, but the mere mention of Jane Pocock's name had opened floodgates of gossip, and he felt as one might after being washed overboard from a ship and carried ashore in a flurry of foam and sharp deb-ris.
Now he wished he had paid more attention to Fanny's drawing of her sister.
The loudly stated opinion of Mrs. Abbott, the madam, was that Jane Pocock had been strange, plainly very strange, demented and probably a practitioner of Strange Arts, and how it was that neither she nor any of her girls had been murdered in their beds, she did not know. Ian wondered why a young woman with such skills would have been working as a whore, but didn't say so, under the circumstances.
It took some time for the talk about the murder of Captain Harkness to die down, but Ian Murray did ken his way around a brothel, and when the flow diminished, he at once ordered two more extortionately priced bottles of champagne.
This altered the air of accommodation to something more focused but less vituperative, and within half an hour, Mrs. Abbott had retreated to her sanctum and the whores had reached their own silent accommodation amongst themselves. He found himself on the red velvet sofa common to such establishments, with Meg on one side and Trixabella on the other.
"Trix was friends with Arabella — Jane, I mean," Meg explained. Trix nodded, doleful.
"Wish I hadn't been," she said. "That girl hadn't any luck at all, and that kind of thing can brush off on you, you know. What are those things on your face?"
"Can it?" lan touched his cheekbone. “It's a Mohawk tattoo."
"Ooh," said Trix, with slightly more interest. "Was you captured by Indians?" She giggled at the thought.
"Nay, I went of my own accord," he said equably.
"Well, me too," Trix said, with an uptilted chin and a wave of the hand presumably meant to draw his attention to the relatively luxurious nature of her place of employment. "Not Arabella, though. Mrs. Abbott got her and her sister off a sea captain what didn't have the scratch to pay his bill. Those girls were indentures."
"Aye? And how long ago was that? Ye canna have been here more than a year or two yourself." In fact, she looked to have been in the trade for a decade, at least, but minor gallantries were part of the expected pourparlers, and she laughed and batted her eyes at him in a practiced manner.
"Reckon it would have been six — maybe seven — years ago. Time flies when you're havin' fun, or so they say."
"Tempus fugit." Ian filled her glass and clinked his against it, smiling. She dimpled professionally, drank, and went on.
"Mind, I wasn't but two years older than Jane..." Bat-bat. "Mrs. Abbott wouldn't've bothered with them, save they were pretty, both of 'em, and Jane was just about old enough to... um... start."
Ian was counting back; six years ago, Jane would have been about the age Fanny was now. Old enough...
After a few accounts of harrowing initial experiences in the trade, he managed to drag the conversation back to Jane and Fanny.
"Ye said a sea captain sold the girls to Mrs. Abbott. Do either of ye by chance recall his name?"
Meg shook her head.
“I wasn't here," she said. "Trix...?" She lifted a brow at her friend, who frowned a little and pressed her lips together.
"Has he come back here — since?" Ian asked, watching her closely. She looked startled.
"I — well... yes. I only saw him twice, mind, and it's been a long while, so I maybe don't recall his name for sure."
Ian sighed, gave her a direct look, and handed her a golden guinea.
"Vaskwez"" she said without hesitation. "Sebastian Vaskwez."
"Vas — was he a Spaniard?" lan asked, his mind having smoothly transmuted her rendering to "Sebastiàn Vasquez."
"I don't know," Trix said frankly. "I've never had a Spaniard — knowin'-like, I mean-wouldn't know what they sound like."
"They all sound the same in bed," Meg said, giving Ian an eye. Trix gave her friend a withering look.
"He sounded foreign-like, no doubt about that. And no talking through his nose or that gwaw-gwaw sort of thing Frenchies do. I've had three Frenchmen," she explained to Ian, with a small showing of pride. "Was a few of'em in Philadelphia while the British army was here."
"When was the last time Vasquez came here?" he asked.
"Two... no, maybe close to three years ago."
"Did he go with Jane then?" Ian asked.
"No," Trix said unexpectedly. "He went with me." She made a face. "He stank of gunpowder — like an artilleryman. He wasn't one, though; they've all got it ground into their skin and their hands are black with it, but he was clean, though he smelled like a fired pistol."
A thought occurred to Ian — though thinking was becoming difficult. He wasn't bothered by the fact that his body was taking strong notice of the girls, but arousal seldom did much for the mental faculties.
"Could ye tell if he was still a sea captain?" he asked. Both girls looked blank.
"I mean — did he mention his ship, or maybe say he was taking on crew, anything like that? Did he smell of the sea, or — or —fish?"
That made them both laugh.
"No, just gunpowder," Trix said, recovering.
"Mother Abbott called him 'Captain, though," Trix added. "And 'twas clear enough he weren't a soldier."
A few more questions emptied both bottles, and it was clear that the girls had told him all they knew, little as it was. At least he had a name. There were sounds in the house, opening doors, heavy footsteps, men's voices and women's greetings; it was just past teatime and the cullies were beginning to come in.
He rose, arranged himself without shame, and bowed to them, thanking them for their kind assistance.
— Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone, Chapter 80, A Word For That
From “the author”
“They actually did get the (general) idea from me, though,” she admits. “When chatting with [showrunner] Matt [Roberts] about All Things plot wise, I mentioned that if I had written a second graphic novel (I didn't, for assorted reasons), I would have shown what actually happened after Faith's presumed death at the Hopital des Anges, and how/why Master Raymond resuscitated and nurtured the baby secretly, but wasn't able to come back with her before Claire and Jamie left France. So, they liked that idea and ran with it.” — Diana Gabaldon, Parade
Remember… Claire is only one of more than a dozen time-travellers in the story… Brianna was conceived in 1746 and born in 1948… Family Beardsley is a threesome… it’s Outlander, anything can happen.
Scrolling through TikTok (sniff sniff) I have come across some snippets from the season finale and WTF?!?!
I don’t want to spoil it for anybody so feel free to private message me and explain to me whether this was part of the book or the show writers had too much peyote after dinner.
I agree, bomb production values look high. The test will be in the writing and editing, something OL missed the mark on more than not. I didn’t care before but I’m willing to give it a try after that teaser.
Right?? It looks promising enough, though it's only a few seconds of footage really. We'll see but let's give it a chance.
I wonder when The Buccaneers next season will be released too. And The Bridgertons.
Bridgerton won’t be out until 2026, I believe. It’s Benedict season and I don’t think the actress playing Kate is coming back, at least that’s what they are saying around here.
Regarding Blood of my Blood, and sorry for the ignorance, did Diana write a book about it or are they going off the things we know about Jamie’s and Claire’s parents through the book?. I think that if it’s not based on a book, it will probably render better results.
Also, I was reading over here that they are not planning to explain ghost Jamie in season 8 and that we will have to wait until book 10 (for those who read it) to find out what it was all about.
It looks great. Can't believe I'm saying this about a Starz product BUT trailer looks good. No expectations since I haven't read anything about those characters except when mentioned in the Outlander saga so if it's as well done as it looks like I may enjoy it more than I did the 5 last seasons of OL.
I can't wait to check the chemistry among the new couples. I already love the lady playing Ellen, as I loved her in Belgravia the next chapter.
The ring/no ring scandal! Or maybe there were a couple idk idk. I think one of the arguments was you can’t photoshop metal 😂 Crazy but good times, I miss those days.
Yes, that is what that person claimed 😂😂😂
To me the final straw was when she said that Getty Images was in cahoots with them and they had removed the ring with photoshop (I guess one can Photoshop it in but not out! 😂😂
When I read this quote about Zendaya’s and Tom Holland’s love it reminded me of the absurdity by shippers that C and S would be together with 7 kids. And, on top of that, that they would have “kept” this secret for 10 years.
Even in my shipping days, this was something I never comprehended. It totally made no sense. How many people would need to be part of the charade for this to work for 10 years!!.
Ask yourself the hard questions. You can love them as actors, you can wish they were together , but at the end of the day, C is married to T and they have a kid together. And S is enjoying the single life.
It is just so unbelievably funny to me how the current shippers (yes, there are still those who firmly believe in a global conspiracy to hide SC with child/ren and even claim to have [legal] proof) pretend that there never were shippers before them. If there had ever been a time that somebody had insider knowledge or proof, it would have been you.
It's just embarrassing and actually pathetic how old shippers have forgotten all about "your" time and now flock around some pretenders who came in late (which is pitiful in itself to start believing that conspiracy after the wedding and the baby) and simply write with confidence and fancy words. It's astonishing with how little some are dazzled and roped into it. And thanks to the new "leader" the shippers are fully back to the war against everybody who doesn't ship, but nobody entertains them 😂
Anyway, just wanted to share how funny it is that the amnesia donuts made old shippers forget about jamesandclairefraser.
Seeing your last gif set, what's your opinion on Gladiator 2?
Hello old days anon 🥰🩷 So nice when oldies come and visit me 🥲
Is it weird that this made me laugh? But in a good way? The thoughts of the fandom still existing the way it used to but with new characters and players is insane to me but I also wish I was privy to it and could see it all from the outside. Please spill the tea in my inbox so I can share it all for shits and giggles with Lauren and Julia 🤪
Unfortunately I haven’t seen Gladiator 2 yet but hopefully very soon. Life has been hectic so I genuinely haven’t had a chance. It’s very cool to see Paul doing so well though. Did you enjoy it??
Hope you’re enjoying the holiday season if you celebrate 😊💛
I still remember the day one of the new Illuminati insisted that Getty images had photoshopped Sam’s ring out of his finger when he went to one of the late night shows. No matter how many of us told her that “the so called ring” had been photoshopped in for sh*ts and giggles or that the person who photoshopped it said she had, they would just not believed her!
I joined after the engagement so the fandom was already fractured but I still remember the Italian wedding gif extravaganza and the “F*ck Frank” thread.
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