#kitchen with green cabinets ideas

[svarte-troner]

Pantry - Transitional Kitchen Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional u-shaped light wood floor and beige floor kitchen pantry remodel with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, green cabinets, soapstone countertops, green backsplash, glass tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and black countertops

[toyastales]

Green Marble and Wood Kitchen

[keisukeabe]

Enclosed Kitchen (New Orleans)

[newtonlara]

Great Room in Raleigh Open concept kitchen - large traditional galley medium tone wood floor, brown floor and exposed beam open concept kitchen idea with a farmhouse sink, shaker cabinets, green cabinets, quartzite countertops, white backsplash, quartz backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and white countertops

[rogersx]

Industrial Kitchen in Columbus

Eat-in kitchen with a multicolored floor and medium-sized industrial l-shaped ceramic tiles. Idea for an eat-in kitchen with stainless steel appliances, an island, raised-panel cabinets, green cabinets, quartz countertops, a green backsplash, and white countertops.

[girlsaloudmeme]

Columbus Industrial Kitchen Eat-in kitchen - mid-sized industrial l-shaped ceramic tile and multicolored floor eat-in kitchen idea with an undermount sink, raised-panel cabinets, green cabinets, quartz countertops, green backsplash, ceramic backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and white countertops

[ledaatomica]

Rustic Kitchen Boston Design ideas for a remodel of a mid-sized rustic galley kitchen with a medium tone wood floor, an undermount sink, flat-panel cabinets, green cabinets, wood countertops, and stainless steel appliances.

[leclerc-hs]

73 Questions with Mrs. Leclerc - cl16

pairing: husband!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you do a 73 questions interview with Vogue OR charles can't help but third wheel your interview warnings: none??? just cute fluff basically, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 2.1k author's note: I actually got a request by someone to do this and thought it was such a CUTE idea and concept. I obviously didn't do ALL 73 questions cause that would've taken forever. But thought this was a cute little piece to do. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think don't be shy !! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE DELICATE FOLDS of the pale pink sundress fluttered like petals in a gentle breeze, framing your figure with a soft, ethereal elegance. As the front door yielded to the push, the fabric danced around your legs, caressing the tender skin of your thighs with a whisper of touch. Your radiant smile illuminated the scene, a beacon of joy amidst the fluttering fabric and nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” The male voice chimed brightly, his tone cheerful as a songbird greeting the dawn, echoing through the air with an infectious energy that mirrored your own bright smile.

“Hey!” You respond with effervescent warmth, your smile stretching across your face like a sunbeam breaking through clouds. With a graceful gesture, you swing the door open wider, revealing the inviting warmth of your home’s foyer. The soft light spills in, casting a golden glow over the polished floors and elegant furnishing. The first thing to notice is the giant painting of a Ferrari Formula One car, hung high above the entry way table.  

“Look who we have here! It’s Mrs. Leclerc!” A delicate blush warms your cheeks, a subtle reminder of the tender affection that tingles within you whenever you’re addressed as such. Though you and Charles have been together for many years, your marriage has infused your relationship with a fresh sense of intimacy and closeness. And despite that it’s been almost five years, the title of “wife” feels forever new and unfamiliar.

“On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“I would say 8, so I’m super excited!” With a gentle click, you shut the front door behind you, enveloping the foyer in a tranquility as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen. Along the way, you stooped to pick up a scattering of children’s toys that lay scattered like confetti on the polished wooden floors, offering a quick apology for the perceived “mess.” However, you couldn’t help but inwardly smile at the orchestrated chaos around you. While the house was meticulously maintained by the cleaning company before the video shoot, every detail was carefully curated to strike the perfect balance between lived-in warmth and elegance, ensuring a setting that felt both inviting and authentic to you and the viewers.

“Any reason for that?”

In the heart of the home lies a kitchen adorned with a stunning green cabinet motif. The cabinets, painted in a rich emerald hue, exude an air of sophistication and charm, perfectly complemented by gleaming brass hardware. Sunlight filters through the vast array of windows, casting a warm glow over the polished marble countertops. 

“You mean other than the fact that the kids go back to school soon?” You and the interviewer let out a soft laugh as you made your way behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge in a smooth motion to pull out a water bottle. “Want one?”

“No, but thanks though!” His voice is light-hearted. 

As the fridge door remains open, a tantalizing glimpse is offered to the audience of its well-stocked interior. A colorful array of fresh produce fills the shelves, showing an abundance of vibrant fruits and crisp vegetables. Among the healthy offerings, assortment of juice boxes catches the eye, adding a playful touch to the wholesome scene.

“That’s a lot of juice boxes you have in there.” He makes a comment, it’s not a question, but you take it as one.

“Two kids and a husband,” You start, your tone light and casual before lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper for the camera, “who practically is also a kid, results in a lot of juice boxes.” With a playful wink directed at the lens, you punctuate the statement, adding a touch of humor to the scene. Setting the water bottle down on the expansive kitchen counter, you resume your easy demeanor, effortlessly blending candor and charm for your audience.

“Hey!” Your head shoots over, the camera seamlessly following your gaze to where Charles, your husband,sits on the floor of the living room, two of your kids, aged two and three, beside him with an abundance of toys strewn about. “I heard that!” Charles retorts with mock offense, a playful grin lighting up his face as he joins in the banter.

The living room exudes a chic sophistication with a distinct Formula One flair. Charcoal-gray walls provide a sleek backdrop, accentuating the mounted flat-screen television. A striking statement piece dominates one corner—a display of artwork showcasing all of the racetracks Charles has conquered – infusing the room with a sense of triumph and energy. A plush white sofa, adorned with an array of vibrant red pillows, invites relaxation and style. Across the room, a sizable shelf proudly showcases a collection of racing helmets, some belonging to Charles and others gathered over time, adding a personal touch to the space. Below the television, was a long console table that was adorned in various plants and photos of your family. You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced at them.

With a casual wave of your hand, you dismiss Charles’s playful interruption, maintaining your position at the kitchen island as the camera refocuses on you. The gesture carries an air of affectionate familiarity, a gentle reminder of the dynamic energy that permeates your bustling household.

“If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?”

“Definitely Austin Butler.” You answer almost immediately, no hesitance in your voice.

“Hey!” Charles’s playful yelp echoes through the room once more, accompanied by the joyful laughter of your children. One nestled in his lap, the other engrossed in a picture book, their presence adding warmth and vitality to the room. You share a knowing smile with Charles, the affectionate banter a familiar melody to your family life.

The laughter of the interviewer joins the playful exchange. The camera effortlessly captures the dynamic interaction between all of you with ease.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Restez en dehors de ça.” Stay out of this!

“Arrête de faire semblant de vouloir faire l’amour avec quelqu’un d’autre que moi!” Stop pretending you want to make love with anybody but me!

With a mischievous gleam in your eye, you turn back to the camera, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I change my answer?” You inquire, injecting a hint of playful anticipation into your tone.

“Sure,” the interviewer replies.

“You’re supposed to say no,” You quip with a chuckle.

“Oh, um no?”

With a playful pout, you glance over at Charles who is already staring at the interaction. A smile adorned on his face like he is in complete awe of you, regardless of what you are saying. “Sorry honey!” You wave your hand around. “Answers are final!”

Leaving the kitchen behind, you make your way towards the backyard, where the promise of relaxation and leisure awaits. Stepping through the door, you’re greeted by the sight of a large pool shimmering under the sunlight, its crystal-clear waters beckoning for a refreshing dip. Surrounding the pool, lounge chairs are strategically place, some on the pool’s ledge, inciting you to bask in the sun while enjoying the cool water. A wide arrangement of pool floaties from unicorns to racecars litter the pool as well.

It’s a breathtaking sight: a vast expanse of bright blue skies stretching overhead, adorned with barely a wisp of cloud in sight. The warm rays of sun dance upon your skin. With a stylish flourish, you slip on a pair of your favorite Ray-Bans, a subtle nod to your husband’s sunglass collection. 

“Vintage or new?”

You ponder for a moment as you stand in the backyard, a breeze blowing your hair behind your shoulders. “Depends, but definitely vintage.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Aisle, although Charles likes to take the aisle more.”

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“Wait, do my children count as two of the three?”

“Up to you.”

“Okay, so my two children. And my lip gloss.” You laugh, pausing for effect. “Kidding! My two kids, and my lip gloss…” You pause, jokingly. “And my husband of course.” The light-hearted remark reflects the joyful chaos of humor and love in your life. “He’s really the sweetest man. I’m so lucky.”

The glass door slides open with a whisper, and into the frame steps Charles, his presence incessant. With a carefree demeanor, he approaches you clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a plain white t-shirt that stretched at the seams from his muscles. He presses soft kisses to your cheeks, the stubble of his own rubbing against your smooth skin, his love evident in each tender kiss.

“Désolé,” Sorry. He apologizes before pecking another kiss to your cheek. “Tellement ambrassable.” Just so kissable. He places one more on your cheek, your face bright red from the camera’s catching all of this.

“Looks like he can’t be far from you for very long.”

Charles looks at the camera, a glint in his eye with a large smile, like he was the happiest man on earth, and nothing could dampen his spirits. Especially with you nearby. “Est-ce que tu la vois?” Do you see her?

The interviewer, unaware of Charles’s words, simply nods in response behind the camera lens, acknowledging the affection in his tone. Later translations will reveal the depth of Charles’s words no doubt. Elle est tellement belle. Bien sûr, je ne peux pas rester loin longtemps.” She’s so beautiful. Of course, I can’t stay far long.

Your face is bright red as Charles remains at your side.

“Where are the kids?”

“Put them down for a nap!” Charles answers, his arm slung over your shoulder as he leans on you comfortably. 

As the interviewer continues the questionnaire, Charles can’t resist interjecting with playful remarks and comments on almost every question. His spontaneous interruptions add an element of humor and spontaneity to the video, turning what could have been a standard interview into an entertaining and engaging exchange.

“How do you define beauty?” “My wife.” “Charles, the questions are for me!”

"What do you love most about your body?" "That's an easy one...I think her--" Charles begins, but you swat his chest and cut him off. "I love my arms. Not because they're that nice but they give me the ability to hold my children." Charles clicks his tongue, hating that you even implied something about yourself as 'not that nice'.

"Least favorite color?" "Red." Charles lets out a large gasp with a string of phrases in French, clearly hurt by your response. "It's a joke, mon amour!" "How did you know you were in love?" You look at Charles then, his eyes already on you, a soft smile pulling on both of your lips. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with him. Probably when I realized I would rather be awake in the middle of the night, since he was traveling so much, just to talk to him for even a few minutes, instead of going to sleep." Charles plays with the ends of your hair, twirling the ends around his fingers as he chimes in. "We've known each other for so long. But, when I first met her, it was like meeting someone I've known my entire life. There was no awkward silences between us. We just clicked."

“Diamonds or pearls?” “Pearls.” “Mon chou, don’t lie.” “I’m not!” “The diamond on your finger says otherwise!”

“If you made a documentary, what would it be about?” “Charles’ brain. I seriously question what goes on in there sometimes.” “Hey! It’s only you…”  You raise your eyebrows at him, like he’s a liar. “And racing.” “Definitely racing.”

“If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Charles smirks deeply, like he knows something the world doesn’t, the interviewer picks up on it. “Wait, you have a tattoo? Can we see it?”

“No! It’s for me only.”

You playfully swat at Charles’ chest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks as you both wander throughout the house, showcasing its beautiful décor. Despite your embarrassment at Charles’ antics, you can’t help but be thankful for him easing your nerves. You weren’t one for the public eye, normally. So, when you agreed to this interview it came out as quite a surprise.

“Okay final question of the day.” 

You both stand by the front door, the interviewer on the front step outside of the home. 

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Definitely ki—” You don’t get to finish your answer as Charles’ fingers grasp onto your neck, his fingers sprawled along your jawline as well, and tugs your face into his. He shuts the door as soon as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It’s a few seconds before you push him off you. “You’re unbelievable!”

A giant smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you. “Only for you, mon chou!”

[julianaspringer]

Great Room in Raleigh Open concept kitchen - large traditional galley medium tone wood floor, brown floor and exposed beam open concept kitchen idea with a farmhouse sink, shaker cabinets, green cabinets, quartzite countertops, white backsplash, quartz backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and white countertops

[infinitvstones]

Kitchen Dining Cleveland An illustration of a mid-sized modern l-shaped eat-in kitchen with a medium tone wood floor and brown walls, an undermount sink, recessed-panel cabinets, white cabinets, granite countertops, a gray backsplash, a glass backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island, and gray countertops

[toyastales]

A modern kitchen design that highlights the use of green marble.

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

When you wake up you're alone, it's just you and the fire. The disappointment you feel disturbs you. You should be relieved to be alone, you should feel safer now that the Orc isn't near you.

Orcs are brutal warlords, everyone knows this. They can't be trusted. You glower at the fire and manage to shuffle a little closer to the hearth. The idea of just leaving before the Orc can come back floats in your mind but it quickly dissipates when you try to sit up. Your limbs betray you, your arms shake and falter under your weight, as if you're a pathetic waif and not a self-sufficient woman of the woods.

You slump back to the floor and bundle the thick wool blanket tighter around your still naked frame. Surely your clothes are dry by now. You take on the burdensome task of looking around the living room for your clothes but freeze when you see the big green figure standing in the connected kitchen. His back is facing you as he moves around, opening cabinets and draws with an unnerving quietness. How could you not have heard him? The realization paralyses you, have your senses dulled that much from the hypothermia?

As if he could sense your fear, he turns around and locks eyes with you. His dark eyes make your heartbeat jolt and you turn over to avoid looking at them or him. You look around again for your clothes and finally spot them on a wooden drying rack next to the hearth. You try and scooch your body towards it but you can only really wriggle on the floor. You hear him stepping closer and the fear rises with every step, you try and reach out for your clothes but he gets to them before you.

If you had energy you would yell something vulgar but your anger quickly settles into confusion when the massive man sits behind you and gently brings you into a seated position, supporting your back against his chest. You go even more limp as he slowly brings your hands through the long sleeves of your tunic and pulls the garment over your head with some difficulty on your part because of the strenuous action on your sore muscles.

He buttons up the shirt and you want to slap his hands away but you can't, your fingers are far too numb to be doing any fine motor functions like that anyway. He then does the same with your pants, gently pulling them into each leg. The softness that he treats you with is upsetting, like he looks down on you. You can feel his breaths on your ear and you can feel how he tenses when you wince at a particularly painful movement. It's all so humiliating.

When he's done, he lets your head slump onto the pillow again. He put a pillow on the floor for you? How have you only noticed that now? He walks off into his kitchen again and leaves you to stare shamefully into the fire. If you tried to leave, even if you could make it out the door, you'd probably just freeze to death or be saved again by this stranger and be even more humiliated than you are now.

The orc comes back with a steaming mug and plate. He helps you sit up and positions you up against his chest again. You absolutely hate how easily you relax into his warmth. He holds the mug up for you to take and you hesitantly reach out and curl your fingers around the warm ceramic, holding it to your chest and assessing the contents.

It smells earthy and sweet. You take a tiny sip and your taste buds sing. It tastes like honey and a woody spice you can't place. You down the whole cup in no time, almost spilling as your arms struggle with the exertion of holding it up. You gulp down the last of the thick, hot liquid and sigh in relief. The orc behind you lets out a very irritating, amused huff and takes the mug from you to replace it with the plate. It's filled with hot steaming buns, it smells divine and you pick one up only to drop it back on the plate when it burns your fingers.

The hot food nips at the sensitive skin on your fingertips painfully. The digits are still cold and numb, not cooperating with what you want them to do. You try again but quickly drop the hot bun onto the plate once more. The orc sets the plate into your lap and carefully manoeuvres you so that you sit across his crossed legs, like sitting bridal style. He picks up a hot bun and holds it to your mouth, after a moment of hesitation you finally give up even more of your dignity and bite into the delicious smelling treat. You barely stop yourself from moaning at the taste.

You make the mistake of looking up at his face, you haven't actually gotten a good look at his face until now and you almost choke on your bun when you do. He looks nothing like the depictions of orcs you've seen and read, they're supposed to be ugly and scary beasts who pillage and kill for fun. Looking at him, you can't help the uncertainty that trickles into everything you know about orcs. Concern is written all over his orcish features, just like his cautious movements.

His tusks have little carvings on them, shallow indents in the ivory so beautiful and intricate it's difficult to imagine orc hands carving them. You realize he's also staring at you and you wonder if he's thinking similar things about your human features. You have no idea how orcs perceive humans but if it's anything like how humans perceive orcs it can't be very good.

A sudden guilt comes over you and you have to look away from the orc. You stare at your lap, where you sit comfortably in his hold and accept another hot bun he holds out for you. You can feel his hand hesitate on your back, he wants to comfort you but he's...scared?

If you're honest you're scared too, you can't even remember how long it's been since you just talked to another person, let alone touched someone. With a full belly and a warm face, you drift off once again against this stranger's chest wondering if it's been just as long for him.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆

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[pathologicalreid]

merry christmas, please don't call | s.r.

in which Spencer pens an email to you, since you've already blocked his phone number

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: nondescript break up, described as spencer's fault, reader is mentioned to have worn lipstick, yearning, word count: 907 a/n: and the worst part is!!! that we both know!!!!! we are doing kind of an unofficial margotmas/reidmas! really i've just been building up christmas ideas for a while lol

To: xreader@gmail.com From: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com Subject: Merry Christmas

Hey,

Spencer shook his head, that was too casual.

Good afternoon,

Much too formal.

Hello,

Too rigid.

Darling,

I passed by the house that you told me you adored. It used to be your dream house; you’d always show me the Zillow listing whenever you were browsing. The owners didn’t put up their Christmas lights this year, and it looks like they’re getting ready to sell. I haven’t been online to check the listing, that was always your thing rather than mine.

Do you remember the house? It had four bedrooms for our kids to sleep in and a library with stained-glass windows. You always told me the stained-glass windows were your favorite feature of my apartment. I keep it covered now; the colored glass just serves as a painful reminder of you.  

Emily called me last week. I suppose no one told her that we weren’t together anymore because she asked what our holiday plans were. I haven’t made any since you left. I’m finding myself hopeful that we get called on a case over Christmas so that I don’t need to be surrounded by the world celebrating while I continue to wallow in the memories of you and me.

That’s all I have now: memories. We made so many of them over the course of three years that I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that having an eidetic memory is a curse just as much as it is a blessing, but with you gone, I know it’s more of a curse. I see you when I close my eyes as if your features have been permanently tattooed on the back of my eyelids, but when my eyes are open, everything is exponentially worse.

You left in such a hurry, so you were bound to leave a few things behind. When I went to make a cup of coffee and found one of your mugs in my cabinet, JJ and Penelope had to practically scrape me off the kitchen floor. There was still a lipstick smudge on it, a piece of our history the dishwasher couldn’t quite wash off. Your necklace was on the bedside table, though maybe that was left behind on purpose. I wish we could go back to the day I gave it to you, you could wear the same green dress, and maybe work wouldn’t get in the way. If I could, I’d call you to ask why you left it behind, but you’ve blocked my number.

There was no need for you to leave me things to remember you by, how could I ever forget you?

I’ve been finding myself grateful that you got so close with Garcia during our relationship, she doesn’t give me any explicit details on your life when she updates me. I never ask, but she knows I want to hear.

It’s a rather odd phenomenon to have once had someone who you shared everything with, only to one day find they want nothing to do with you. I always find myself reaching for my phone to send to a message, or leaning over to show you a line in my book, but you’re not there anymore. I don’t hold any malice in my heart for you, even after you called it all off. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t be the boyfriend that you needed, and I’m proud of you for realizing you wanted someone better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.

Maybe I still have some growing up to do. There might be some sort of emotional stunting as a result of my less-than-orthodox upbringing and education, which makes sense when you consider two of my most common nicknames, “boy genius” and “kid.” One day I could find myself in the same place you were, ready for more, but maybe then I’ll be with someone who is ready for the same things as I am. She’ll never be you though. You’ll always hold that special place in my heart.

Speaking of my upbringing, my mom keeps asking about you. Each time we talk on the phone, she asks if she can talk to you, but I’ve been telling her that you’re still working or are otherwise preoccupied. I know I shouldn’t lie to her, but if I tell her, she’ll inevitably forget, and I’ll be forced to recount the story of how I lost the best thing to ever happen to me forever. That would be my eternal damnation. There’s Sisyphus and Tantalus and Spencer Reid, slowly becoming nothing but a myth. I wonder if I’m a story that you tell your friends at O’Keefe’s.

I go there sometimes, just to see if I can catch your gaze, but you’re never there.

I know this is your favorite holiday, and I don’t intend to ruin your holidays with my message. I suppose I just needed to see if you still dream about that house. To see if you still dream of me the way I dream of you.

Merry Christmas,

Spencer

He clicked send nervously, ready to snap his work-issued laptop shut when it chirped with a notification. Surely you hadn’t responded that quickly. Spencer opened his inbox once more, checking the latest email.

To: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com From: mailer-daemon@googlemail.com Subject: Delivery Status Notification (Failure)

Message blocked.

Your message to xreader@gmail.com has been blocked. See technical details below for more information.

[cgtaxpe]

Dining Kitchen Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary l-shaped medium tone wood floor and brown floor eat-in kitchen remodel with a farmhouse sink, recessed-panel cabinets, green cabinets, wood countertops, brown backsplash, wood backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and brown countertops

[laylaheartphilia]

Seattle Dining Kitchen

[humanowitzlegacy]

Family Room Home Bar (Cleveland)