#Dorothy Good

[thesaddestjoysandthesmallestlies]

Here’s a reminder that Google is a fucking lying piece of shit.

Dorothy Good was not executed for witchcraft.

No one was burned at the stake during the Salem Witch Trials.

[baby-chirp]

Chose 10 of the more iconic default names you get when playing Town of Salem.

[3liza]

https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/theyre-not-human-how-19th-century-inuit-coped-with-a-real-life-invasion-of-the-walking-dead

Indigenous groups across the Americas had all encountered Europeans differently. But where other coastal groups such as the Haida or the Mi’kmaq had met white men who were well-fed and well-dressed, the Inuit frequently encountered their future colonizers as small parties on the edge of death.

“I’m sure it terrified people,” said Eber, 91, speaking to the National Post by phone from her Toronto home.

And it’s why, as many as six generations after the events of the Franklin Expedition, Eber was meeting Inuit still raised on stories of the two giant ships that came to the Arctic and discharged columns of death onto the ice.

Inuit nomads had come across streams of men that “didn’t seem to be right.” Maddened by scurvy, botulism or desperation, they were raving in a language the Inuit couldn’t understand. In one case, hunters came across two Franklin Expedition survivors who had been sleeping for days in the hollowed-out corpses of seals.

“They were unrecognizable they were so dirty,” Lena Kingmiatook, a resident of Taloyoak, told Eber.

Mark Tootiak, a stepson of Nicholas Qayutinuaq, related a story to Eber of a group of Inuit who had an early encounter with a small and “hairy” group of Franklin Expedition men evacuating south.

“Later … these Inuit heard that people had seen more white people, a lot more white people, dying,” he said. “They were seen carrying human meat.”

Even Eber’s translator, the late Tommy Anguttitauruq, recounted a goose hunting trip in which he had stumbled upon a Franklin Expedition skeleton still carrying a clay pipe.

By 1850, coves and beaches around King William Island were littered with the disturbing remnants of their advance: Scraps of clothing and camps still littered with their dead occupants. Decades later, researchers would confirm the Inuit accounts of cannibalism when they found bleached human bones with their flesh hacked clean.

“I’ve never in all my life seen any kind of spirit — I’ve heard the sounds they make, but I’ve never seen them with my own eyes,” said the old man who had gone out to investigate the Franklin survivors who had straggled into his camp that day on King William Island.

The figures’ skin was cold but it was not “cold as a fish,” concluded the man. Therefore, he reasoned, they were probably alive.

“They were beings but not Inuit,” he said, according to the account by shaman Nicholas Qayutinuaq.

The figures were too weak to be dangerous, so Inuit women tried to comfort the strangers by inviting them into their igloo.

But close contact only increased their alienness: The men were timid, untalkative and — despite their obvious starvation — they refused to eat.

The men spit out pieces of cooked seal offered to them. They rejected offers of soup. They grabbed jealous hold of their belongings when the Inuit offered to trade.

When the Inuit men returned to the camp from their hunt, they constructed an igloo for the strangers, built them a fire and even outfitted the shelter with three whole seals.

Then, after the white men had gone to sleep, the Inuit quickly packed up their belongings and fled by moonlight.

Whether the pale-skinned visitors were qallunaat or “Indians” — the group determined that staying too long around these “strange people” with iron knives could get them all killed.

“That night they got all their belongings together and took off towards the southwest,” Qayutinuaq told Dorothy Eber.

But the true horror of the encounter wouldn’t be revealed until several months later.

The Inuit had left in such a hurry that they had abandoned several belongings. When a small party went back to the camp to retrieve them, they found an igloo filled with corpses.

The seals were untouched. Instead, the men had eaten each other.

[ichiwashername-o]

Fiyero:

Wicked Master Post Here

Meeting Dorothy

Meeting the Tin Man

[99bowl]

first of all its not silver liquid its like some other shit

[jryno]

WICKED (2024) dir. Jon M. Chu

[fakemichaelsheen]

-the ball @ the bookshop-

mr. brown, intrigued: so, what's the deal with you and mr. fell?

crowley, scoffs: deal? there's no deal.

mr. brown, pleased: oh, good. so I can ask him out, then?

crowley, suddenly annoyed: uh, no, you can't actually.

mr. brown, frowns: why not?

crowley: ...

crowley, panics: he's straight!

mr. brown, laughs: what? no way

crowley, nods: oh, yeah. a real ladies man. I mean, it's obvious

aziraphale, appears, very excited: everything is working perfectly. the guests look fabulous, the bookshop is stunning *downs a glass of champagne* now, you, mister, owe me another dance *grabs him and starts pulling him away*

crowley, clears his throat as he's dragged away: he just really loves women...

mr. brown: ...

[m4lted-cr3am]

"We must be over the rainbow!" No Dorothy you are IN THE GODDAMN RAINBOW

[linovadraws]

"There must be something he wants. And whatever it is, by God, I'll find it and make a collar and chain of it with 'Douglas' in fine Gothic letters on the neck."

George Douglas has some A+ ideas in Game of Kings, no notes.

[alicesbread]

I really need to write a fic where Glinda sees Dorothy and goes "yup. You're my child now." And then after a torturing slowburn her and the wicked witch get together so Dorothy has aunt Em and Uncle Henry at home, and whenever she goes to Oz she has her witch lesbian moms waiting for her.

[cheesecakeonthelanai]

Iconic Golden Girls Things (as voted by you!)

#4: A talk over cheesecake (11.9%)

[theoreticallytheological]

Aziraphael: Where are you going?

Crowley: To either get ice cream or commit felony. I'll decide in the car

[soulreaper]

r u a good witch or a bad witch?

[fairweathermyth]

FARGO 5.01 The Tragedy of the Commons

[rowan-apollo]

happy pride month to Dorothy's friend crowley

[applesaucesims]

Spring, 193–

Dear Diary, It's been a while since I last wrote to you. So much has happened and is still happening in my life, I simply do not get much time to journal anymore. But since quitting my daytime job, I have a lot more time, so I figured that this would be a great time to start recording my days again. And what turbulent few days I've had!

Our fourth child was born in the middle of the night, while all the other children were still asleep. Little Maurice is a healthy little boy, and I already love him just as much as my others! I adore having a baby to dode upon in the house again. If he did not need to sleep, I'd never put him down!

But, alas, he does need to go to bed just as much as any of us. I dearly hope he likes the room we've decorated for him. It's much smaller than the others, but it has its own kind of charm. Unfortunately, we could not fit a fireplace in the room, but we installed a few radiators to keep Maurice snug and warm. I've also decided on a calming blue floral theme to make up for the lack of a cosy fire.

In other news, the girls have grown so much, too! It feels like it was only yesterday that they were born, but now they have become their own little people! Louis is still doing so much as a big brother, I'm so proud. The puppet theatre proved to be a smart purchase, he still makes up stories for them all the time. I'd have thought that he'd grow out of it, but he doesn't mind doing more childish play for his sisters. Isn't it just so sweet?

As I'm writing this, Ruby and Dorothy are running around in the fields outside the house. I wish I could record the sound of their joyous shouts alongside my writing! It's easy to forget that Ruby is the older of the twins, with how much more outgoing her sister is. Whenever she's not with her sister, she prefers to spend time by herself, reading under the covers and such. But I find that, when the two of them are together, they bring out the best in each other, but the worst as well! I suppose that's just what friends are like, especially when they're your twin sister. Dorothy seems to have taken the energy of the fiery red clothes I like to buy for her to heart. In fact, I'm not sure she would ever run out of energy, if her sister were not there to keep her calm. But don't get me wrong, I encourage her big personality. I don't want my children to ever think they have to be anything but themselves.

[TRANSCRIPT]

Emma: "Well, hello, old friend."

(in Emma's handwriting) Dear Diary...