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#best wishes and warmest regards
seud-luachmhor · 4 months
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tyfinn · 2 years
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Can't believe it's been a year. Such a wonderful evening!!
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lgbtnerdydee · 2 years
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JOMP Day 21: Favorite endpages
My favorite endpages are from my Best wishes warmest regards Schitt’s Creek book.
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treluna4 · 2 years
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Hey anon,
I have zero idea what this means, but thanks so much for the ask!!
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grunge-mermaid · 9 months
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"in a time when it was super dark, [Schitt's Creek] kind of came in and filled that void in a lot of ways"
I have a hard time thinking of pre-2020 as a "super dark" time when it seems super breezy compared to *gestures broadly at the last three and a half years*
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kelliealtogether · 1 year
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I love forgetting I funded something on Kickstarter, and then present Kellie gets surprised by past Kellie's great decisions. 😌
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withsomejam · 2 years
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Best Wishes, Warmest Regards
Best Wishes, Warmest Regards
Best Wishes, Warmest Regards: The Story of Schitt’s Creek, by Daniel Levy It was towards the end of 2020 that I watched Schitt’s Creek and got into it in a BIG way. I binged it like it was my form of oxygen and fell in love with everything about it. Fast forward to the latter half of last year, I noticed that there was a hardback, coffee-table style book being released in October and I…
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crawley-fell · 5 months
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I would like to personally commission a making of good omens S3 documentary like schitts creek best wishes warmest regards so that I can say goodbye to these characters with the cast and crew and cry like a baby for weeks
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crvptidgf · 25 days
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A Night To Remember
Gilbert Blythe x Reader
➸ summary: as the daughter of a renowned lawyer in Avonlea, you are invited to this season's debutante ball. little do you know, you're about to meet the man who will steal your heart
➸ warnings/notes: probably some historical inaccuracy, stereotypes of the role of men and women (it’s the 19th century, c’mon), strays from canon, all characters are over the age of 18
A/N: can you tell i've been watching bridgerton?
word count: 1.9k
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YOU WERE NEVER one for rumors. Ever since you left school and were given the opportunity to study at a university you had decided to stay far away from that type of lifestyle. You saw how gossip ruined many girls and destroyed several friendships - and you refused to fall into that trap.
Not to mention the fact that your family was well respected by the ton, and their youngest eligible daughter parading around with false stories would not bode well.
So, when whispers of a supposed ‘debutante ball’ were circling around the girl's dormitories, you paid them no mind. Certain families had a guarantee to be invited to one of these events, while others had to work their own way in. If there was to be a ball you would've already known by now.
Arriving back to your chambers, you were happy to see that your roommate was still in her classes. She was a nice girl, but too chatty for your liking.
You were so occupied by your thoughts that you almost missed the pristine envelope that sat at the foot of your bed, the purple wax shining in the sunlight. It was your father's emblem. Either somebody died or you were about to get some amazing news. Grabbing your letter opener, you sat on the soft sheets as you analyzed the contents of the page. It read:
To my dearest,
As you may now know, this season's Debutante Ball is to be set in the Halloway Estate come dawn tomorrow night. Your father and I decided it best to wait as we know you wish to complete your studies, but as the time is nearing quite quickly we had no other choice but to exempt you from classes for the time being. The carriage will await you at noon.
With warmest regards, your loving mama.
Groaning, you crumpled the paper in your hands and threw it onto your pillow. You were never interested in the social aspect of high society. Important dinners, town fairs, and theatre visits were a common occurrence in your childhood. All of which greatly impeded your learning, and you hated it.
Ultimately you knew you had no choice. Deciding to make the best of it, you began to collect your things. There was never a point in arguing with your parents, especially since they had already sent someone to come get you.
You just hoped the ball would pass quickly.
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YOUR PREVIOUS WISHFUL thinking unfortunately did not work out. After being pampered for what felt like hours, and revised on proper etiquette and rules, you already wanted to go back home.
The frilly dress you wore was beautiful, but uncomfortable. Your maids made sure no lace was loose and that all the fine whale bone in your corset was tucked perfectly against your torso. It was a physical embodiment of your imprisonment in this little social charade your parents wanted you to play.
Introductions went by as quickly as they came, and your parents accompanied you side by side as you trailed down the grand staircase.
While every other girl was back on campus studying for exams, you were here frollocking about. How would dancing and mingling help your education? You pushed back a sigh and twisted the edge of the ring on your finger. It was a purity ring that was handed down to you by your mother, something she had held in her family for generations.
“Now, now, dearest,” said your mama as she interlinked her arm with yours. “No need to fret. You remember your dancing lessons?”
You simply nodded. With your curls bouncing around and your perfect dress feathering across the floor you felt like a porcelain doll. It was like you had been dressed up solely for the purpose of being looked at. Which, in fairness, was quite the case.
Throughout the night various men came to ask for permission to dance. Some were accepted, and some declined, much to your pleasure.
Eventually your father ventured off somewhere to talk business and your mother was caught up in conversation with an old friend. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak out for some fresh air. Picking up the hem of your dress you jogged as quick as your heeled sandals would let you.
Cold air hit your face as you were met with the evening sky. You leaned against the marble rail of the balcony, reveling in how nice the breeze felt. It was getting much too stuffy inside. You finally let out the sigh you had been holding in all night.
“The stars are beautiful tonight don’t you think?” said a voice.
Slightly jumping, you turned around to see who it was. There in the pale moonlight stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. Many gentlemen greeted you tonight, but this one had something different about him. Perhaps it was the gentle way he carried himself, his hands tucked behind his back politely - or maybe it was his brown orbs that seemed to pull you in with every second that passed.
“My apologies. I wasn’t aware that anyone was here,” you replied, moving away from the balcony to return inside.
As much as you would’ve wanted to continue the conversation with the attractive man, an unchaperoned lady at night was a guaranteed scandal.
“No need. I was only here for a breath of fresh air.”
He looked at the glass door, eyeing the people in the ballroom. “I could leave if you wish,” he offered.
Shaking your head you continued to make your way back to your parents. Yet when you looked back at him, something in you begged you to stay. Maybe it was just the way your heart soared at the sound of his smooth voice.
You moved away from the door.
“What brings you out here?” you asked as you twiddled with your ring again. It was a nervous habit that you had developed while at school and your mother absolutely hated it.
The man, however, noticed and made a mental note of it in his head. He found it rather cute.
“This sort of thing isn’t really my forté,” the man confessed.
A smile found its way onto your face. The first one you’ve had all night. “Well, Mr…” you paused, looking at him.
“Blythe. Gilbert Blythe.”
“Well, Mr. Gilbert Blythe. As it so happens, it isn’t mine either.”
You both floated back to the edge of the terrace. It overlooked a huge garden that spanned a few acres. While it was gorgeous, it all felt too grand. A small patch of grass with some flowers was infinitely more charming than this overgrown imitation of a forest.
“And what is your forté, Miss -“
“Y/N,” you replied quickly.
Gilbert repeated the name, as if he was getting a feel for it on his tongue. It was quite the lovely name.
The black suit he wore fit him perfectly. His straight-set shoulders were donned with a fine material, his tie sitting delicately against his chest. Whoever he was, he definitely had money. Even the way he styled his hair seemed so prim and proper.
“I’m more of an academic,” you admitted. Most men didn’t like hearing of their bachelorette’s life goals. Many actually preferred that they stayed out of school.
Gilbert hummed, his gaze settling up at the heavens. “We have quite a lot in common then, Miss Y/N.”
You would’ve expected the interaction to be awkward. Instead, you found yourself enjoying the comfortable silence that fell between the two of you. Soon you would have to return to the ball. For now you decided to make the most of it before you had to vacate.
“And what is it that you do, Mr. Blythe?”
Gilbert smiled, his eyes squinting. How he wasn’t already spoken for, you had no idea. “Please, just Gilbert. Mr. Blythe ages me.”
“I’m a doctor,” he finished after a moment.
A doctor. Usually medical practitioners were old and reserved. Well, at least the ones you had been to. You never thought they could be so… easy on the eyes.
You hummed in response. “Are you in university, just Gilbert?”
Another smile. Dimples graced his cheeks perfectly and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve reached over to smooth them out. “I am. And you?”
The wind picked up slightly, ruffling your hair. “I am. I’m studying law - I hope to take over my father’s business one day.”
You knew you were sharing too much. It was just too easy with Gilbert, he had a certain relaxing aura about him. Your parents would love him too. The thought made you giddy.
With his eyebrows raised, he turned to you. “A lawyer, huh?”
Nodding, you let your eyes meet his. In the quiet of the night, you realized that brown was quickly becoming your favorite color. Brown like his eyes, or like the chocolate locks that sat so prettily atop his head.
“You must be a very smart woman to get into law school.”
“And you must be a very smart man to get into medical school,” you mocked back. He merely shook his head in response, letting his lips form into yet another breathtaking grin.
“I'm compelled to ask. Why are you outside and not in there dancing? Any gentleman would be lucky to have such a graceful, intelligent woman on his arm.”
The comment made you blush and you turned your head away from him. After this brief interaction you realized that the only man you wished to dance with tonight was Gilbert. Nobody else could stand a chance anymore - not that they ever did.
In a rush of confidence you replied. “Perhaps I don’t have the right men asking me.”
With a grin on his face, Gilbert held out his palm. His hands looked so inviting. You wondered how they would feel against your own, smaller hands.
“Well then, may I have this dance?”
Placing your fingers against his, you let the warmth spread across your body. He felt more perfect than you could’ve imagined. You let him lead you back to the ballroom, the shiny ground causing your shoes to clack against it. This was perhaps the first and only dance that you would actually enjoy at this event.
Gilbert’s hands felt light and pleasant on your waist. And there was something so tender about the way he spun you around.
He was like no other man you had ever danced with.
His feet were perfectly in sync with yours as he lead you across the floor. Warm eyes were concentrated on your face, never once leaving your penetrating stare. It felt more intimate than anything you had experienced to date. Your hands cupped his own as he sped the dance up, his twirls and dips causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
That night you felt like a princess in his arms.
When the music died down, he hesitantly dropped the grip on your waist. Lifting up your ringed hand to his lips, he placed a feather-like kiss onto it, honey colored orbs fixated on you.
“I hope we can do this again, Miss Y/N.”
Your skin buzzed in the absence of his touch, and you felt the area where he had left his mark. A kiss so gentle that you would dream about it for many nights to come.
You only hoped your father was in contact with somebody who knew Gilbert Blythe - because after tonight, you weren’t so sure you could see any man the same ever again.
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Regency Style Jily Microfic
@jilymicrofics
Prompt: Pity Word Count: 907 “Miss Evans,” he breathed, holding his hat in his hands, his chest heaving from exertion after braving the journey from Peverell Palace to Gryffindor House. His manner was uneasy, his eyes darting all over her face as if he were looking for signs of her own unrest. “I’ve just heard the news, I –” he opened and closed his mouth, as if not knowing what to say. “You have?” she asked him. “And here I thought I might be able to surprise you for once, Mr Potter. Alas, again you are my superior in every way possible –” her cheeks glowed despite the gloomy April air that had caused goosebumps to rise on her arms a moment before he had arrived. She hoped one look in her direction did not rouse his suspicions. She had guarded her secret – the depth of her feelings for him – so carefully in the past months, she did not wish to fail in this final moment. He took her gloved hand in his then, holding it to his heart, startling her and causing her eyes to widen significantly. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest. “Miss Evans, I must say –” the expression on his face was pained, “– while I’m sure it will seem impossible now, time will heal all wounds and –” he swallowed, “– I hope that perhaps in time, your heart will learn to love once more, that it might carry the affection it has known again –” She frowned slightly, his words a riddle to her. “He truly is an abominable scoundrel, but – rest assured – he will soon be gone and –”
“Mr Potter,” she started, understanding dawning all of a sudden, “I’m not –” her heart fluttered at the warmth he showed her, at the regard he took to what he had assumed to be the truth of her innermost feelings, “ – you are very kind, but you are also mistaken, I have no regrets and wish the happy couple nothing but the very best –” He took a small step towards her, squeezed her hand that was so warmly placed in his own. “You are too good,” he almost whispered. “Miss Evans, he did not deserve you –” She was certain she blushed now. “I do not deserve your pity –” “Pity?” he sounded alarmed. “I have nothing but the deepest and warmest compassion for your situation for I am so well-acquainted myself with a love unrequited –” “Is it?” He stilled almost, wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue and this emboldened her. “Unrequited, I mean. How can you be sure that the lady you hold in such high esteem may not love you as you do her –” He dropped her hand, turned away slightly. “I have long lost all hope –” “Then I must pity you, Mr Potter –” He started to pace, hands curled around the brim of his hat. “I’m not here to talk about my own misfortune, I am here to tell you that Mr Diggory has been a most foul creature indeed, engaging your attentions so –” Her eyebrows rose, the question on her lips before she could stop to think about it. “Do you envy him?” “In every respect when it comes to you!” Time seemed to have stopped at his declaration and so had her heart. She watched him as he came to the realisation of what he had just revealed. He turned to her, spluttered out an apology, fully and completely horrified to note the impropriety of his conduct. “Miss Evans, I do so sincerely apologise, I had not meant to startle you so –” She was the one to move towards him this time, her fingers resting gently on his elbow as she said: “You did not, Mr Potter,” her voice was barely more than a whisper as he looked down on her, seemingly entranced by her very presence. “It appears that I am right to pity you for it seems that you have far too long been misguided –” “Do not remind me,” he spoke with anguish, “of the folly of my hoping you might ever return my feelings –” She stopped him by raising herself on her tiptoes and placing her lips – ever so softly, ever so hesitantly, ever so anxiously – against his, her heartbeat louder than it had ever been as it pounded through her veins. She let herself fall back, avoided his gaze for sheer nerves. “I have never loved Mr Diggory,” she confessed. “It’s you who has been on my mind for the longest of time, even if I didn’t know it at first or recognise its meaning for what it was –”   His hand now curled around her cheek and he brought her eyes up to his, noted the brilliance of the smile that played at his lips. “Could you be –?” he asked. “Are you certain –?” She very nearly scoffed, but didn’t want him to question the feelings that she harboured for him so dearly yet again. “Pity me, Mr Potter, for I am fully at your mercy.”
His kiss was all she had ever needed and more than she could have ever imagined herself wanting.
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farm-witches-fic-recs · 6 months
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The coven is prepared to acknowledge it is the first Friday of a new month, but we refuse to believe that month is December.
However, we do want to wish our farm witch friends all of the blessings, best wishes, and warmest regards that come with the many celebrations during this time of year.
Be kind to yourself and others. Have a little treat and leave these creators some love, too.
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Bean (@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3) “Such good feels. Stevie needs a kidney and Patrick is happy to help in this funny and heartfelt found family fic.“
Cards on the table (bigficenergy) “We love this  AU in which Patrick admits to David that he's developing feelings for the person he's going into business with.”
in finding myself, I found you (@flowertrigger) “This witch loves confident, flirty David in a delicious outfit and baby gay Patrick meeting at Pride.”
"Not Enough Trees" and Other Totally Real Excuses Not to Buy a House (ellie603) “A great AU with David searching for a Rose family vacation home and inventing increasingly ridiculous excuses about each of realtor!Patrick's suggestions so that they can keep spending time together. It's delightful.” you are my happy ending (@smblmn) **GIF SET** “We are in awe of this phenomenal giftset of David & Patrick's sweet kisses.”
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schittscreekficrec · 9 months
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Happy August! We hope you enjoy our picks for this month. Remember to feed and water your authors!
liv's recs: weights & measures by barelypink [david/patrick, M, oneshot]
brace for the goodbye by @petalwritesx [david/patrick, T, oneshot]
Patrick-isms by fairmanor [david/patrick, G, oneshot]
Wanted: Birthday Clown by @mostlyinthemorning [david/patrick, T, oneshot]
julie’s recs: Phone a Friend by @beaiola [david/patrick, E, one shot]
hey, I know it’s late, but we can make it if we run by cromarty @patrickredactedbrewer [david/patrick, G, one shot]
Think Cooling Thoughts by @hippolotamus [david/patrick, T, one shot]
a reason to stay by doingthemost @sarahlevys [alexis/twyla, G, one shot]
ali’s recs: so consumed by this dreaming by spelling___bee [david/patrick, E, multichapter]
Love in a Hopeless Place by @deenerann [david/patrick, M, multichapter]
Gig Economy Boyfriend by lisamc21 @lisamc-21 [david/patrick, T, one shot]
how did we know (it would be so beautiful)? by stillicide_snow [david/patrick, T, one shot]
jette's recs: Best Wishes, Warmest Regards by authorbynight @wearpersistencewell [stevie & david, T, one shot]
got a fistful of four leaf clovers by iphigenias @oatflatwhite [alexis/twyla, T, one shot]
in finding myself, I found you by @flowertrigger [david/patrick, E, one shot]
Before Sunrise by @paceyjay [david/patrick, E, multichapter]
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lgbtnerdydee · 2 years
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JOMP August day 9: favorite title
Omg I love all things Schitt’s Creek and when I saw this book at Target I was so excited i just had to get it so I could read it.
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ask-sebastian · 3 months
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Dear Sebastian, I hope your day is less hectic and a tad more manageable. Iris certainly seems sprightly, might be she has received an abundance of treats in her many travels the past day(?). Herbology class surprisingly didn't prepare me for fighting my zonal geraniums. They grow wild like weeds and need tending at least once a year for their mad dash for freedom. Merlin help me I'm covered in flower sap and there are dead leaves everywhere. I bet you these have a faint relation to venomous tentaculas. Maybe a common ancestor? Anyone avid in Victorian flower language would scoff at me for keeping these. Their meanings can be both melancholia or childish naivety. But I find submitting to your own follies the best distraction in stressful times, and I find them both pretty and whimsical. I keep a veritable flock of orchids to balance it all out. Do you happen to have a favourite flower, Sebastian? -Ada
Ada,
Warmest wishes that this owl finds you well. Each day seems more hectic than the last I am afraid, but I am oddly acclimatised.
News of Iris's mood does not come as a surprise. She is quite the energetic owl, which is rather fortunate given the amount of post she delivers. All the more reason to keep spoiling her rotten, I must say.
It's a relief to hear of your victory over the flora. Perhaps not entirely unscathed by your recount, but whilst stickiness can be bothersome in the extreme, it is nothing a good bath and a strong scourgify can't fix.
You shall not hear a disparaging word from me regarding any choices for your personal garden. I barely manage to tend to my own as it is, so I am hardly one to speak proudly on the subject. Anything I do successfully cultivate is primarily to support my work in potions and not something from which I gain any sort of personal enjoyment. To wit -- I have minimal talent for it.
Admittedly, my knowledge of flower language is limited, but I certainly do appreciate beautiful things. Flowering thrift and foxglove are favourites flowers of mine I am aware of foxglove's poisonous properties though, so I suppose that makes both our preferences unorthodox?
Good luck with the sap, Sebastian
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tastesoftamriel · 1 year
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Ju'rohn sera Talviel,
Pardon our poor writing skills.
It is rare among our kind to even speak an understandable language for n'waah.
We are curious about your knowledge. Each thing to know is better learnt than left, is it...
We do come from the Ashlands, deep inside the desolated lands of Molag Amur. We do remember dances, clashes, traditions, war, but merely feast and drinks from those times. We left decades ago, and only music helps us remembering how life was back then. Music and body paint.
Have you ever met an Ashlander, from the Erabenimsun maybe, that did not want to cut your throat at sight and accepted to share with you the words and secrets of his tribe? Mephala taught us the benefits from discretion, we may be asking for something dangerous. If you never had, then proceed carefully. Withdraw at sign of bothering.
Part of us talks about smells, spices and hunt, and I would appreciate to give him a piece of the past through meals he may have already experienced as a child.
We know it may be complicated.
We will be thankful and draw your name in the ashes when dawn arises.
Yours,
- Sangre
Under sun and sky, warmest greetings, friend!
While many outlanders are cautious and are treated as hostile by Ashlanders, I have worked hard over many years to create bonds of trust, respect, and friendship with those who are willing. Namely, I am on cordial terms with the Urshilaku and Mabrigash tribes, and while I am (and likely always will be) but an outsider they treat with caution, I have made solid bonds of friendship with these two groups.
I cemented our bonds of trust with trade of both goods and news from across Morrowind and Tamriel, and in exchange, I have been offered a glimpse into their ways of life, culture, and food customs. In particular, I have offered what I can in the way of aid to these tribes, who after many years still feel the effects of the Red Year. I bring medicine, ingredients, fabrics, weapons and tools, and more in open solidarity, expecting nothing in return. However, I have gained worlds of wisdom, hospitality, and Nirn's best roast guar recipe in return- far more than I could ever have hoped for.
Regarding a meal befitting Mephala, served in accordance to traditional Ashlander customs, I would recommend a traditional ceremonial nix-ox stew, due to the glory that comes with bringing down such a tough foe, and the slow and deliberate process that comes with cooking this dish (not recommended for novice cooks). You will also have to gather cliff racer eggs, now found predominantly in the Blacklight region, a handful of ash hoppers, guar milk, blood, and fat, and forage plants like fire fern, saltrice, any mushrooms of your choice, and ash yams.
Firstly, boil the fire fern with a good amount of Bitter Coast peppers, salt, and dried scuttle powder (I also recommend adding any favourite herbs and spices, wrapped in sedge grass packets). When the stock is thick and red, add the nix-ox meat and chopped ash yams, and bring the flame down, leaving the pot to simmer for two hours.
Fry together the mushrooms and ash hoppers in guar fat until crispy. Set aside as topping for your stew.
Whisk together the guar milk, blood, and cliff racer eggs until frothy, and slowly pour into the soup while stirring continously. Again, leave to simmer for another hour, then add the saltrice, allowing the stew to thicken. Add guar milk as needed if it starts to dry out. Pour in a good measure of shein until the stew is a deep, dark red. Bring the stew to a boil once again for thirty minutes, before finally serving.
Serve the stew piping hot and top with crispy mushrooms and ash hoppers. Best eaten with wickwheat or saltrice flatbread.
I hope that this long-winded message has not bored you. While we may not be well-acquainted thus far, I hope that I may pass on my sincerest wishes for peace and friendship with your tribe, and that if ever you desire it in the future, my company and expertise is yours. ~Talviel
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demetrius-haggarty · 8 months
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Dearest Meech,
I had fondly hoped to have written to you before your swift departure.
Taking my quill in hand regarding the construction of greenhouse - which I was not aware was so near at hand without time to express my warmest thanks - I’m hoping there is still room for one more helping hand, or two!
After you were so kind to offer me yours when you have so much work and so little time, but you always do seem to find some spare minute.
I’m rather a deft hand at furnishing (a talent many of others often find bewildering). I’ll even make sure to bring refreshments.
Hoping the weather will prove favourable for this project, and that our friends will be as happy as we could wish.
Your affectionate friend
Wren
Wren,
There is always room for more helping hands! It might take me a day or two to finish the basic building frame but there is so much more that can be done at the same time.
I am not the best at... most things that have to do with casting spells, really. And this project might require a lot of that kind of knowledge. What if you and the girls would like to have a fancy dome on top on the greenhouse? I assume some Transfiguration would be at play there and I am reeeeealy bad at Transfiguration ..... I know you're one of the smartest people around so whatever design you all would like in the end — I'm sure we can mold the base accordingly!
And trust me, furnishing would be very important! I can help with that as well, I'm good with carving tools if we want some interesting patterns on... On some wood, I presume? We can talk about it when we all meet up. Thank you for sending me an owl, I'll see you by the main Greenhouse, I found a perfect spot to the left of it!
With warm regards,
Meech
P.S. Refreshments? I hope the house-elves would give you those willingly >:D Or would you make them yourself?
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