#martha stewart farmhouse

[oldfarmhouse]

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐭, 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

https://www.instagram.com.marthastewart48

[joekellyotcglobalholdings]

You Can Rent Martha Stewart's Farmhouse for Just $11.23 Here's How

You Can Rent Martha Stewart's Farmhouse for Just $11.23 — Here's How https://www.entrepreneur.com/business-news/you-can-rent-martha-stewarts-farmhouse-for-just-1123/464957 The lifestyle maven will even join the lucky renters for brunch. via Entrepreneur: Latest Articles https://www.entrepreneur.com/latest November 06, 2023 at 11:36AM

[perennialgarden]

[folklifestyle]

I get made fun of for my love of pumpkins and fall a lot. It really is my favorite season. It has been for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid they were what I looked forward to each year because it felt like my own thing, it wasn’t sports I was made to play but not good at, it wasn’t my love of Martha Stewart sort of things which got me made fun of cause they were “girly” …pumpkins though were my own and were safety from the world of just not fitting in. I was told that boys don’t watch Martha Stewart Living, boys don’t read Martha Stewart Living, boys don’t care about those sort of things, but I did and the older ive gotten the more that love has grown. Perhaps one day I’ll learn to love the things boys are supposed to do, but by god I’m sticking with the pumpkins for now. #pumpkins #fall #autumn #americana #liveauthentic #livefolk #folk #folkmagazine #puppydogtails #sugarandspiceandeverythingnice (at Walton Creek Farmhouse) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTuPDt8LdS7/?utm_medium=tumblr

[ashley-slashley]

I can't wait for a counterculture movement towards interior design. Out with the grayscale minimalist and the grayscale and light blue "farmhouse". In with the antique cottage craftsman, Victorian and Edwardian gothic, mid-century modern, mid-century ranch, even the wood paneling with avocado green and burnt orange. Those aesthetics from the past I listed will aways be more aesthetically pleasing and have more character than whatever Martha Stewart, Joanna Gaines, and influencers peddle

[oldfarmhouse]

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭"𝐬 1𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥

[talesmaniac89]

Choices - Dean - Follow Him In

New to Choices? Start Here

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader. Go to the intro to start your story now!

Triggers: Injury, blood, pain, series levels violence, demon death

Choice:  [You chose to follow Dean in]

Y/N = Your Name | Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour | Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

---

Shifting your grip on the angel blade you let your eyes burn into Dean’s back. The stubborn soldier was always so ready to sacrifice himself for others. Both Winchester brothers were. It was infuriating. They always lived like they were bulletproof. Always risking everything in an effort to save a life or die trying. 

Especially Dean.

Well, you weren’t going to stand back and let him be your shield. You were his partner; you had his back during hunts. And that didn’t include standing outside with your hands in your pockets when there was the possibility of a demonic ambush waiting behind the rotting wooden door. 

Choosing to pretend you hadn’t noticed his little hand signal, you stepped up on the rickety porch just as Dean quietly opened the door. Bracing yourself for the angry flash of green you knew would follow your blatant disregard for orders, you squared your shoulders. Waiting just a beat before slipping into the dark farmhouse right behind him.

Even in the low light, it was impossible to miss the sharp light in Dean’s eyes as he silently glared at you for disobeying his orders. But you gave as good as you got. Silently waving your angel blade in a mimed shout back at the stubborn man you loved more than life itself. 

Using your blade, you underscored your silent scathing point with a slash of lethal silver through dusty air and a frustrated roll of your eyes. The self-sacrificing hunter had given you the angel blade and Sam both the colt and demon blade, since the younger hunter would be solo. 

Yet, Dean himself went in with nothing but iron and holy water. Both of which could incapacitate, but not kill, any of the five demons in the house. If they all jumped him, he wouldn’t be able to get the exorcism out fast enough to avoid getting hurt.

And if you’d waited outside, you wouldn’t be close enough to save him.

He might be willing to get injured and possibly even killed just to keep someone else safe. Always placing the lives of others a mile above his own. But your greedy little heart was way too selfish to let him go anytime soon. No, even if your love was unrequited, you’d never let the man in front of you get hurt. Not if you could be there to watch his back. The world was a better place with Dean Winchester in it, even if he sometimes seemed to believe the opposite.

Throwing you one more burning look as he gestured at the empty hallway, Dean shook his head at you. Clearly conceding the mimed screaming match with a silent sigh, at least for now, as he gripped his gun tighter and nodded towards the door to the right of the small entryway. Finally letting you fall in step next to him. 

Silently following the hunter across the dusty floor, you kept your eyes peeled, straining against the dim light. (Y/E/C) eyes sweeping across the other still closed doors and keeping watch as he reached for door number one. Giving him a quick glance, you pushed your back up against the wall next to the door, shoulders tense and breathing careful and calculated. Your eyes travelling over the painful clench of his jaw and the green flames of a soldier ready for battle. Keeping his gun aimed at the seam of the door frame, ready to fire in case a demon was hiding right behind the faded grey wood. 

Dean’s shoulders were tense as he opened the door just a sliver, enough to look in and keep his gun aimed at any approaching demons. Yet, just as quickly as the painfully tense hold started, his shoulders relaxed. Followed by a small shake of his head. Which you didn’t even really need as you were already on the move again.

You’d been watching Dean Winchester since you started hunting with him. His small movements, the darkening shade of green eyes, or the way his jaw would tense up, you knew them all. Including the many silent words and hidden meanings behind each gesture. Which was why you could easily step back and cover the next door before he even got to nod towards it. 

Your love for the hunter helped, sure, but you’d always worked well together. Perfectly in sync since that first fight, where the Winchester brothers had popped out of nowhere and helped you finish off a nest of fledgling fangs. 

Maybe it was slightly grotesque, but to you it was like an intimate dance. You could watch him, tilt slightly right, and just know that he needed you to take a step to the left and duck for him to finish off another monster in desperate need of a dentist.

Shifting your grip on your angel blade, your eyes met his as you placed your back against the wall next to the door again. Lifting your weapon slightly to be ready to strike while simultaneously covering the rest of the dark hallway. And, just like you, Dean needed no other indication to know you were set. His hand reaching out and opening the second door, gun aimed and hand on the doorknob slow and steady.

Though, unlike the last one, this one didn’t just open a small sliver. No, as soon as his hand pulled at the doorknob, the door shot open in an explosion of dust, mould and wooden splinters. Knocking Dean back into the wall across the hall with a breathy curse and a loud thud. 

Demon.

The word barely registered in your mind before you’d spun on your heel, angel blade raised and clutched in whitening knuckles as you leapt into the room and straight at the black-eyed man that had been moving towards Dean. So, focused on the winded hunter that he hadn’t even noticed you until you were basically on top of him. Every. Single. Time. One of those damned monsters would spot a Winchester in pain and get all hot and bothered. Making it way too easy for you to get the drop on ‘em.

You didn’t even have time to think. Relying fully on the advantage of surprise, the deadly weapon in your hand and your hunter instincts. Your blade made short work of him with one swift downward stab, right between the black-eyed bastard’s ribs. The satisfying full stop to the end of the demon’s story marked by glowing eyes as the holy blade tore him from his vessel.

Pulling your blade out, you wiped it against your jeans as you turned back to Dean. Not giving the demonic bastard anything more than a hurried once over to ensure he wasn’t moving. More out of habit than actually believing the demon had any chance against the angelic weapon clutched in your hand. Before hurrying towards where Dean had carefully started trying to get up from where he’d been flung like a ragdoll across the room. The small wince you caught before he managed to settle his features hinting at a few new bruises already forming across his back. 

“Next door?” You asked, grinning as you reached a hand out to help him up. One Dean gratefully grabbed as he smiled back at you. The adrenaline of the hunt setting in now that the jig was up. There’d be no more sneaking around. The demons knew you were there now, and they were sure to come gunning for you any second. 

Time to get this show on the road.

Dean was just back on his feet when an angry scream reached you from the other end of the hallway. The blonde young woman who met your eyes once you followed them to the source of the noise looked like she’d stepped out of some Good Housekeeping ad from the 50s. All big skirt, tulle and heavily hair sprayed bouffant styled hair. Yet, as her eyes flashed black and she came running for you, it was clear to see that this was a little less Martha Stewart and a hell of a lot more twisted Stepford Wife. 

Steeling yourself, you took a step to the left, letting Dean stand shoulder to shoulder with you. Twirling your angel blade, you took a small careful breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable loud bang that came as Dean pulled the trigger. Aiming to slow the demon down with a little dose of iron. 

However, with the skirt’s width, the shot seemed to have missed its intended target as she didn’t slow down at all. Instead the black-eyed bitch simply veered slightly in the direction of Dean and sped up as she threw herself towards him. Hands outstretched and clearly looking to cause as much damage as possible, instead of using any of her actual powers. Again. All hot and bothered at the thought of the fame that came with taking down a Winchester. It was laughable. There were much better things to be hot and bothered about around the green eyed hunter than that.

Saving your annoyed groan and eyeroll for later, you laser focused in on the demon. Acting quickly as you crouched, sliding in front of Dean before he could protest, and easily pushed your blade up and into the stomach of the Martha Stewart lookalike. Following through on your own sliding crouch to quickly roll out of the way until you were on the balls of your feet again. Missing the heavy mix of underskirts and flesh as it landed with a hefty thud where you’d been crouched just a split second before.

“Damn, that was freaking awesome,” You gasped as you looked up at Dean with a victorious grin. The worry in his green eyes easily fading as he joined you in the early celebration by pulling you up and letting a large hand make a mess of your (Y/H/C) hair. 

“Yeah, that was awesome,” He laughed, stepping around the now dead demon and not so secretly checking your bare arms for any signs of cuts or bruises. Just as worried as always about any harm coming to anyone he cared about. Eyes betraying how, if you got as much as a damned scraped knee, it’d hurt him. Though you doubted the mix of tulle and hairspray that was the now deceased demon could have caused you even that much pain.

From somewhere further into the farmhouse, you heard a gunshot, followed quickly by one more. Sam was kicking some serious ass of his own down around the back of the house. Which meant you had to hurry if you wanted to get in on any of the action. 

“Let’s go (Y/N),” Dean’s eyes were back to those of a soldier, just a hint of warm worry gliding over your body once more before he led the way deeper into the house. Hurrying to his brother’s side with quick, worried steps. 

—

You’d found Sam on your way around the back in what had probably once upon a time been a cosy little kitchen.

Two dead demons lying by his feet as the younger Winchester struggled to catch his breath after getting badly winded by one of the two. The Colt hanging limply at his side as his other hand clutched both the blade and his side. As soon as Dean saw the slight tinge of pain in his brother’s eyes he’d demanded he stay outside. 

To be the backup for the last demon as Dean went further into the farmhouse to play hide and seek with little Ms. or Mr. black eyes. 

As Sam flinched around another painful breath, he quickly relented, grabbing his weapons and giving the two of you a nod before heading outside. Where he could hopefully catch his breath easier than in the dusty confines of the abandoned farmhouse. 

Leaving him to watch the perimeter, you’d stayed by Dean’s side. Not as willing to listen to the older Winchester as his younger brother. Even when the hunter insisted he had it, you refused. 

Too many memories of earlier hunts, previous sutured wounds and broken bones, lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t risk him getting hurt when you were this close to a perfect game. Well… Nearly perfect if you didn’t count Sam’s momentarily winded state or Dean’s earlier violent demonic tackle against the wall.

“Think the bastard’s up there?” Dean murmured to you without taking his eyes off the stairs. Casting a quick glance towards the other possible dark hallway the demon could be hiding down before refocusing towards the stairs. His gun aimed into the darkness above as he squinted to try and get a better look. 

You only entertained the thought of splitting up for a short second. Knowing that the hunter wouldn’t let you walk down the hallway or up the rickety stairs on your own. Nor did you want to leave his side either. No, you’d go together. Even if the hunt could last a little longer that way.

“Only one way to find out,” You groaned, casting weary glances at the withered steps, wondering if they’d even hold your weight. Yet, just as you placed your foot on the first creaky step, electing to go first, a shadow fell past you. Your mind barely even registering the scrawny looking balding man jumping down from the upstairs section as you spun on the creaking step. Catching you unaware and with your angel blade limply by your side. 

“Shit!” 

The surprised yell barely left you before you had to sway dangerously backwards to avoid the demon that swiped for you. Clearly seeing you as the easier of two prey when faced with a Winchester. At least this demon didn’t just go blind to everything else when face to face with notoriety. Though, this time you kind of wished he would have at least let his gaze linger for a second longer on the green eyes hunter to give you the time to find your footing.

Feeling yourself teeter on the edge, you placed your foot back down blindly behind you. Unable to find a good steady footing for a frontal attack as the demon’s arms reached for you again, hands shaped like vicious talons where they aimed for your throat. To choke you out, break your neck or… Hell, use you as a hostage. 

Yet, before the black-eyed son of a bitch could reach you, Dean was on him. Jumping on his back and getting in a direct shot to his side that disoriented the demon for just long enough to give you time to throw Dean the angel blade he was silently gesturing for. 

Gripping your blade in his hands Dean turned around again, looking to take down the bastard in one fell swoop. Only to be tackled by the demon, who was recovering a lot quicker than you’d hoped for. 

A scream stuck in your throat as you watched Dean grapple with the scrawny man hosting the demon. Your body frozen between one moment and the next as you watched black eyes light up, and the monster go limp on top of the hunter who held your heart. 

Catching the relieved sob that threatened to explode into the suddenly deadly silent room, you watched as Dean pushed the body off of himself and got up on unsteady legs. His back turned to you as he looked down on his handiwork. 

Dean was fine.

“Thank God… You saved my neck there, I thought he got me,” You said with a shaky laugh as you finally found your voice again. Your eyes locked on Dean’s back with a small victorious smile. You got them all. Finally. 

Still even as your hesitant smile grew, Dean didn’t turn to face you. He kept standing still, head down and focused on the demon… Or maybe, something was wrong? No…

“Dean?” You could hear the early warning signs of fear and panic in your own voice as you spoke into the quiet, dark air of the abandoned farmhouse. Wishing with all your heart that the hunter was just momentarily lost in the close call. Maybe he was angry at you? You could deal with angry… Hell, you could deal with anything as long as he was alright. 

Yet, as he finally turned to face you. There wasn’t anger in his wide green eyes. Just shock and the beginnings of pain. His body swayed dangerously as he leaned against the closest wall, one hand holding onto the faded and peeling paisley wallpaper as the other went to his side. 

In the darkness of the room you couldn’t fully see the palm he barely glanced down at before looking up at you. Your shaky legs already carrying you across the room towards him, though you didn’t remember even moving.

“So, slight problem…” 

The words were barely out of the hunter’s mouth before his legs gave in under him and he collapsed against the wall. Sliding down it only to be caught by your arms just a second before he hit the ground. Wrapping your shaking arms around him you felt more than saw that this was more than just a slight problem. Warm wet blood was soaking into your jeans and coating your bare arms as you choked on a broken sob. 

Oh God… No. 

“I’m… Fine,” Dean’s voice was raspy and strained as he forced the words out. Only to be followed by a string of breathy curses and groans as he squeezed his eyes shut over another shot of searing pain. 

“No Dean… But you’ll be fine,” You tried to smile through your traitorous tears as you gently laid his head down to examine the extent of his injuries. Careful, frantic hands easily finding the large gash in his side as you suppressed another anguished cry. The demon had cut into him, deep. This wasn’t good. Oh god, this wasn’t good at all. 

“Just… Focus on me ok?” Your voice was shaky as you put pressure on the wound. Your mind racing a mile a minute as imagined nightmares and possible solutions fought for dominance in your head. You could save him. You had to save him. 

“Focus on my voice… We got them Dean. We got them. You’re fine, you’re safe. Just… Focus on me. Stay with me,” 

You needed to think. Cas wasn’t an option. The angel was low on juice lately, and with the state of his wings he was in no condition to come to your side fast enough. Maybe if you were closer to the bunker, but… God, you were terrified, you were in pain, you were fucking heartbroken. But still… 

You. Had. To. Think. 

Ignoring the pang of searing pain in your heart as the man you loved groaned out in agony from the added pressure, you tried to steady your breathing. You had to stay calm. You had to… For Dean. He was losing a lot of blood and you needed to act fast if you wanted to save him. Stem the bleeding, get him help, save his life…

Dean still had Sam and you. You’d save him. You just needed to make your fucking frazzled mind work and think.

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

What do you choose to do?

[Call for help] or [Rush him to the car]

---

Confused or New to Choices? Start Here Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where you pick your Winchester brother and go on a hunt for one of 8 different endings in total. Four for Sam and four for Dean (2 happy and 2 bad endings per brother). Go to the intro to start your story!

---

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

The Most Important Mission

One-Shot

Description- Valkyrie/Queen of Asgardians (Brunnhilde), and Captain Marvel (Carol Danvers), Protector of the Galaxies, come together for an important mission. 

This one-shot is my entry for the writing challenge set by @anika-ann ! The fic is set almost a year after Endgame and is inspired by the prompt - “As far as plans go, this isn’t a good one.” “This was your plan.” “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes!” Check out the challenge here

Warning - Fluff 

Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Fire alarm blared as the room filled with thick, black smoke. An acidic, burning smell filled their nostrils as Brunnhilde and Carol escaped the room, coughing. Smoke stung their eyes and formed tears. They sat on the floor outside the room, panting in defeat.

"I had no… no idea this would be so difficult," said Brunnhilde, catching her breath. "To think I signed up for this," Carol shook her head, "should have listened to Fury."

"Where do you think we went wrong? We followed everything that was mentioned in the briefing," wondered Brunnhilde.

"Well," Carol looked at her, "I don't think I should have used the plasma blasters. That's probably what set the device off."

“As far as plans go, that wasn’t a good one,” commented Brunnhilde. “It was your plan!” exclaimed Carol. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes!” Brunnhilde retorted.

They got up, brushing the dust off themselves when Sam and Maria came rushing into the room. "What the hell were you doing?" shouted Maria, looking at the destruction in shock.

"Fury assigned us to a mission for today, but things did not go well," Carol admitted.

"Fury gave you an assignment for today?" asked Sam.

"Yes," replied Brunnhilde.

"For Morgan's birthday?" he inquired.

"Yes."

"Did he ask you to bake a cake?"

"Yes."

"And you burned down the kitchen?!"

Carol looked sheepishly at Brunnhilde.

"Weren't Scott and Banner in charge of the birthday cake?" wondered Maria.

"They were, but they had to help with the decorations, as Bucky was a little jumpy around balloons," noting her confused face, Brunnhilde added, "Somebody kept popping the balloons." Maria nodded in acknowledgement as Sam snickered.

"So what do we do now? Should we just order the cake from a bakery?" suggested Maria.

"No. We took this mission and we will see that it is completed," announced a determined Carol. 

"Boy you need Martha Stewart to pull this off in such a short time," claimed Sam whole assessing the damage to the kitchen.

"Who is she? Can we bring her in?" asked Brunnhilde. 

"I will ask the tag team to locate her right away," added Carol.

"No no! You won't lay a finger on Martha Stewart!" Sam spoke in panic, "I have her recipe book on simple cakes for beginners. You can use it in my kitchen. Just, don't plasma-fry my oven. I can't have a hangry Winter Soldier staying with me."

"Hangry? Don't you mean hungry?" Maria corrected him. "Please! Have you seen the guy? He's always angry. It gets worse when he's hungry on top of it."

Brunnhilde and Carol looked at each other, "Are you sure we don't need Martha Stewart here?"

"Yes absolutely!" asserted Sam.

"You have 3 hours ladies. Good luck," Maria departed with a reminder.

3 hours later...

The birthday party had just begun at the Stark Farmhouse. The house had been transformed to resemble a castle, with balloons, streamers and other decorations dotting the surrounding lawn. 

"Everybody! Welcome the birthday girl, Princess Morgan, Ruler of the Cheeseburgers Kingdom!" Peter Parker announced as he accompanied the little girl dressed in a princess costume. Everyone cheered and welcomed the cute princess with confetti and hugs.

Pepper went around the party with Morgan, greeting everyone and thanking them for coming. "Happy," she called out to him, "Where is the cake?" He tapped his pockets, trying to find his mobile, "Let me call and check."

Just as he was about to dial Carol's number, he heard the sound of wings flapping from somewhere above him. Soon, he was covered in the shadow of Brunnhilde's regal white Pegasus, descending on the grounds. 

"We are here!" she announced from her seat on the winged-horse. "With cupcakes!" added Carol from behind her.

"Ooooo a flying horse! Look mamma a flying horse!" Morgan excitedly sprinted towards the animal. "Wow! I wasn't expecting the Pegasus Brunnhilde! Thank you for the surprise," said an astonished Pepper. "Yeah well, we thought what does every princess need? A flying horse that she can ride into battle!" Brunnhilde beamed in response.

"Exactly! Say Morgan, do you wanna ride the Pegasus with Aunt Carol and Aunt Brunnhilde?" Carol asked the birthday girl. "YAY!!" Morgan screamed with joy, "Mamma can I go with them? Pplleeeeeaasseee??" she pleaded with her puppy eyes. "Uummm maybe after you have cut and eaten your birthday cake?" suggested Pepper. 

"Birthday cupcakes not cake," Carol corrected Pepper, "We just thought cupcakes would be easier for everyone to handle and would save the hassle of cutting and serving each slice."

"Aahh makes sense," Pepper agreed and led them towards the table where they could set up the cupcakes.

"Our distraction is working so far," Brunnhilde whispered to Carol as they started unpacking the boxes. "Let's hope we get away with the next part," muttered Carol.

"Okay everyone! Can I have your attention please?" Carol clapped her hands together and everyone looked at her. "We have another surprise planned for this party! Here we have a large cupcake only for our birthday princess to cut and eat," she gestured towards a cupcake that was a little larger than the others in size due to spillage of the batter. It was coated with multicolored sprinkles, M&Ms and marshmallows. The cupcake was basically a 6-hour worth of sugar rush packed in a bite. 

"And for the rest of us, there are plain cupcakes which you can decorate with 5 different coloured icing options! Isn't that fun?" continued Carol, trying her best to be enthusiastic.

"5 icing options? Awesome!" said Peter Parker excitedly.

"Oooo so many different colours that you can eat," Mantis looked at the different icing bags with wonder.

"I am Groot." "He says thank you for also including the brown colored icing," Rocket translated for Groot.

"Aawww you are welcome Groot," replied Brunnhilde.

"C'mon everyone let's sing Happy Birthday and cut the cake," Happy announced.

In hindsight, everyone could have prepared better for this moment. You see, the thing with the Happy Birthday song is that it has different variations not just on earth, but also across the galaxy. Shuri, Okoye and T'Challa chanted calmly in isiXhosa while Drax stomped his feet in tune with his song. Brunnhilde and Thor sang the Asguardian version by flailing their arms around. Rocket and Nebula covered their ears as Mantis shrieked. The rest of the earthlings hummed/sang along at different tempos, with Peter Quill ending on a high note ".... to yoooooooooouuuuu!"

Morgan looked around happily at the cacophony of birthday songs and blew the candle on her cupcake.

As the others started crowding around the cupcake stand, Maria expressed her concerns, "Have you guys eaten these?" she said, gesturing towards the cupcakes.

"Ha. Ha," Carol laughed sarcastically, "Don't worry we had them tested in the lab. They are safe to eat."

"Y'all baked cupcakes, made different frostings, and got here in just 3 hours? Especially after that fiasco in the kitchen? Spill the tea sis," Shuri cocked an eyebrow at them. 

Both Brunnhilde and Carol looked at each other with confusion. "We didn't spill any tea. Although we did knock over a jar of coffee beans," said a confused Brunnhilde. 

"Yeah and how do you know about the disaster in the kitchen?" inquired Carol.

"It's trending on Twitter," Shuri shrugged nonchalantly.

"Who put it there?" they both asked in unison.

"I did!" Shuri confessed with a smirk and left to play with Morgan, who was busy admiring the giant Pegasus.

Bucky came over to their stand, unsure of the choices. He tentatively picked up a plain cupcake, thanked them, and quietly headed for a corner. Calling out after him, Sam asked Bucky to wait. Sam quickly took an icing bag and started frosting swirls on his cupcake. He looked at the 2 ladies, "Do I dare ask about my kitchen? Has it survived your baking endeavours?" 

"Yes yes of course. We only had to use the fire extinguisher once," Brunnhilde reassured him.

"Twice," Carol reminded her.

"Oh right. Yeah twice. But everything else is good!" Brunnhilde beamed at him.

Sam shook his head and went ahead to join Bucky. To Carol's surprise, they exchanged their cupcakes as they sat on the bench.

Almost half of the cupcakes were now gone, leaving the tabletop in a mess. While Brunnhilde was busy teaching everyone to ride her Pegasus, Carol was busy bursting the balloons filled with confetti above Morgan.

Rhodey approached Brunnhilde as she landed the Pegasus with Nebula. The blue alien looked visibly happy when the winged-horse nudged her playfully. "Thank you for bringing this guy over here," said Rhodey, acknowledging the animal. "It was nothing. Anything for little Morgan," Brunnhilde brushed him off. "And it's also a good distraction from the fact that there's no birthday cake and y'all are clueless when it comes to decorating cupcakes," Rhodey added with a smirk. 

Brunnhilde chucked. There was no pulling a fast one on Rhodey. "So what's going on between you two?" he playfully elbowed her. "Nothing much really. We spend some time together whenever she comes back, which is hardly ever. But that's really all there is to it."

"And you can't join her on her travels because?" Rhodey paused for her to fill in.

"I am a Queen Rhodey. I am responsible for my people. They have nobody on Earth other than me. And you, of all the people, know how difficult the government is. I mean it's not our fault that we are more advanced than the entire human civilization!"

Rhodey sighed defeatedly, "I hear you. More governments across the globe are increasingly losing sympathy for the Asguardians. I know you have already considered this before, but are you sure you want to keep your people on Earth? Don't get me wrong, I love having you guys around. It's just that the Council isn't exactly happy with the fact that there are literally aliens living amongst us."

Brunnhilde considered him solemnly, "It's not that easy to just find an empty planet in the galaxy and inhabit it. There is always some or the other governing body who would have an issue." She kicked a stone out of her way as she continued, "Behind all its glitz and gold, Asgard has a bloody history, one that is marred by the destruction of civilizations. Any other planet familiar with it wouldn't be as kind to us as Earth. At least here, it helps that Thor is a popular figure."

"And have you shared this with Ms I-Got-Plasma-Cannon-Blasters-In-My-Hands?" Rhodey nodded towards Carol.

Chuckling, she shook her head, "She has enough problems of the galaxy on her shoulders. I don't want to add on to that. I just want her to relax and enjoy herself when she comes back home."

Home. There was another reason she didn't share with Rhodey. Brunnhilde was scared that if the Asguardians moved to another planet, Carol might stop visiting her afterall. For her, Earth was her home, where she was born. And even though they hadn't discussed the extent of their "relationship", Brunnhilde didn't want to lose Carol. After the battle with Hela where the love of her life had bled to death in her arms, Brunnhilde had been scared to be with someone. But now, she was terrified of being alone. 

Brunnhilde didn't realise she was standing alone on the ground, gazing into space when Carol's voice brought her back to earth. "Hey what's wrong?" she cooed. "Ahh nothing much really," Brunnhilde managed to compose herself as the despondent memories of her lonely time on Sakaar dispersed from her mind. "Had fun with the balloons?" she inquired. 

"Yeah, until Pepper said no to the use of superpowers at the party," Carol pouted.

"How are we supposed to keep ourselves entertained then?" 

"Clint for one found a few magic tricks to practise on the Strange Doctor," Carol gestured towards Clint where he excitedly removed a quarter from behind Doctor Strange's ear, who looked ready to send Clint into the dark dimension.

"And as for us," Carol continued in her honey-sweet voice, "I can think of a few things we can do to entertain each other," she said with a wink.

"Not at a kid's birthday party!" Brunnhilde dramatically gasped.

"I was talking about sharing a cupcake! What were you thinking?" Carol giggled as she revealed the cupcake from behind her back. It had an uneven, squiggly heart piped on it with pink icing.

Brunnhilde laughed as she looked at the heart, "Are you sure we should eat it?"

"Eh, everybody else seems okay. Wouldn't kill us to eat at least one."

"You never know. WE baked this," Brunnhilde chuckled as they sat on the lawn, enjoying the setting sun.

"Ummm so listen. Have you heard about this planet called Nyorg? It is around 12 jumps from Asgard, in the Androyorg galaxy?" asked Carol.

"I think so. Isn't that the planet which went barren a few thousand years ago?"

Carol nodded in confirmation. "I was recently inspecting that planet for signs of life. Few patches across the planet are already covered with trees and grass. There are tiny streams and lakes which supply a steady amount of water. Also, the houses that people left behind are still there. But they do need repairs."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Brunnhilde looked at her with curiosity.

Carol hung her shoulders, "I know the problems Asguardians are facing on Earth. This is not your home. And it will never be. The best option for you guys is to start over, you know that too."

Brunnhilde squinted her eyes at her. "Are the Mnoreyags okay with us residing on their planet?"

"Technically, they abandoned the planet 4,578 thousand years ago. So they have no claim over it. Still, I spoke with the head of the Mnoreyags and he is happy to concede his claim on the planet," Carol assured her.

"But what does he want in return from Asgard?"

"Nothing," Carol said a little too quickly, averting her gaze and instead looking down at the grass.

Brunnhilde held her chin and turned Carol to face her. "What did you offer him?" she asked her gently.

Carol placed her head on Brunnhilde's shoulder, "He wants my blood sample to try and recreate my superpowers."

"But that's -"

"I know. It can be disastrous. But I am hoping Asgard regains its past glory and power to help stop the threat," Carol smiled hopefully.

Brunnhilde shook her head in dismay. 

Sensing her hesitation, Carol continued, "The Nine Realms that Asgard guarded are no longer under your command or protection. You know better than anyone that peace and order must be restored in the realms. And for that, Asgard needs to become powerful. Worst case scenario? We will deal with the Mnoreyags if they manage to replicate my powers."

"You shouldn't have to do this for me," Brunnhilde whispered sadly.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, my Majesty," Carol rested her forehead on Brunnhilde's.

Sudden explosions in the sky demanded their attention. Beautiful patterns of fireworks lit the darkening sky. Brunnhilde noticed the colours from the fireworks highlighted Carol's features in the most beautiful way possible. 

"No," she said abruptly, to Carol's surprise, "No, you will not give your blood sample to those Mnoreyags idiots. They abandoned that planet. They have no right over it."

"But we need to give up something-,"

"The Queen of Asgard will never give up anything of hers. Ever," Brunnhilde interrupted her with a smile.

Tears filled Carol's eyes when she realised the importance of that statement. 

They shared a quiet kiss amidst the hub hub of the party, with the stars in the night sky promising a brighter, better future.

Permanent tag- @donutloverxo

[mogulinteriororlando]

Home: Kitchen by gerdav featuring Vietri ❤ liked on Polyvore

[thepropertylovers]

Feature Friday with The Beekman Boys

Happy Friday! We are SO excited about this week’s FF because we’ve been huge fans of these guys for quite a while now. Maybe you saw their show, maybe you’ve read their books/magazines, or maybe you’ve purchased some of their products, but Brent Ridge & Josh Kilmer-Purcell are much more than their Beekman 1802 empire they’ve built over the last couple of years. Here, they discuss how they met, how they started their business, and what it was like to win The Amazing Race, while sharing pictures of their beautiful house and mercantile.

Where are you from? We both grew up in rural areas, Brent in North Carolina and Josh in Wisconsin.

Where do you live? After living and working in NYC for many years, we escaped. We live on a farm in Sharon Springs, NY, a small agricultural community about 3.5 hours north of NYC.

Instagram handle: @beekman1802boys

On traveling: We’ve been fortunate to travel around the world many times, and have always found that the most meaningful and inspiring experiences are those when we’ve met everyday people doing their everyday things.

Now we organize group trips called Beekman 1802 Trips of a Lifetime that help other travelers satisfy that same level of cultural curiosity.

We’d have to honestly say that our favorite place is always the next place we are going.

On mixing styles: Much like the work you both do, our style is dictated by the location.  We most often juxtapose styles so that if the structure is modern, we bring in more vintage pieces. If the structure is old, we often use pieces that are mid-century or newer.

Our farmhouse was built in the year 1802 and has most of its Federal-style molding and ornamentation. Many of the furnishings in the house we’ve designed with the artisans that create product for Beekman 1802 Mercantile, but we are not slaves to one particular aesthetic. (You can purchase their interior design book here!) 

On how they met: Josh had moved to NYC in his early 20s and was a junior advertising executive by day (which paid very little) and a drag queen called Aquadisiac by night.

After a few years of too many late nights and excess, he was looking for change.

Brent moved to NYC to do his medical residency, and having grown up evangelical in the South, had never been on a date with a guy or even had an alcoholic drink!

Then we met the really old-fashioned way---in an AOL chat room.  (This was almost 20 years ago.) Josh thought he had hit a pot of gold.

Our first date was at a Chinese restaurant, and we had our first kiss that night and have been together ever since.  Now, no matter where we are in the world on our anniversary date, we always seek out a Chinese restaurant to celebrate.

We got married on the farm just 3 days after the Supreme Court legalized gay marriage with a huge potluck dinner with 300 of our Neighbors.

On coming out: Josh was 23 and Brent was 25.

Coming out is really not easy, though doing so in a big city certainly made it easier. As difficult as it can be or as afraid as you are to do so, it’s important to realize that the other side of that moment is really when you are going to start living your best life.  In fact, you will be amazed by it.

On advice for today’s youth struggling to come out: It’s very important to first analyze what have been the obstacles that have prevented you from coming out and make sure to address those before you do so. 

If it’s family issues (financial or personal), make sure you have some sort of support mechanism in place.  

And also look for good role models.

This is why we are so proud of your blog and your Instagram feed. It’s a realistic, hopeful, accurate portrayal of gay life.  Even though things have drastically changed in the 20 years since we met, there are still surprisingly few examples of this. It’s very important.

On making history: When we filmed the Fabulous Beekman Boys for Discovery, it was a very challenging time in our lives (both of us had just lost our big city jobs in the Recession), and we were attempting to “start over”.  It was the very first reality show that centered around a gay couple in a long-term relationship, and they really did an admirable job of documenting that period in our lives.

Reality TV has changed a lot since then.  As budgets have diminished and competition for eyeballs has increased, the need for heightened drama and sensationalism has risen. Likely there’s not a “place” for our type of show in this environment, so we focus our efforts on our magazine, website, and social media platforms.

On how good communication helped them win “The Amazing Race”: The Amazing Race is really a metaphor for life.  You don’t have to be the strongest, the fastest, or the bravest to win.  You can win just by not losing.  You just have to be able to hang on until the end.

Most of the time the couples that run the Race defeat themselves by arguing or second-guessing one another. By the time we competed, we had already been together for 15 years, so we knew how to communicate with one another and also how to recognize those non-verbal cues that meant we were reaching our limits. Good communication is the key to any successful couple.  There is no room for distrust.  You also have to know when you need to cheer some one on and when to provide support.  Those are two very different things.

On how their business, Beekman 1802, was born: We were living and working in NYC in 2006, Brent was heading the health and wellness division of Martha Stewart Omnimedia and Josh working in advertising. We bought the farm on an autumn apple-picking trip when the lure of the change of season clouded our judgment.  In 2008, we both lost our big city jobs in the great Recession, and had to figure out a way for the farm to be more than a just a hobby.

The farm was built by William Beekman in the year 1802, and he was the largest merchant in  our area of New York, catering to the wagon trains that were headed out West as part of the expansion of America.

As we reinterpreted what a modern farmhouse would look like, we also re-imagined what the Beekman Mercantile could be—an emporium for exceptional things.  Working with over 300 local and regional artisans, that’s how Beekman 1802 was born.

On running a company together: We are literally with each other 24/7. We sleep together, go to work together, eat together, everything.  Some days that seems like a blessing and sometimes an albatross.  Fortunately we oversee different parts of the company.  Because of his medical background, Brent oversees beauty product development and also home décor product design. Josh oversees gourmet food creation and the gardening category.  In this way, we don’t step on each other’s toes.

We have something called the 51% rule. With every decision, major or minor, one of us has that extra percent of control, and this is determined at the outset of the project. While the other is welcome to argue their position and vision, if it comes to a standstill the person with the pre-assigned 51% gets to make the call and the other person has to retreat.

On the true meaning of happiness: We always said that the first half of our lives was spent accumulating wealth which disappeared all too easily in the Recession.  The second half of our lives we want to make as many people happy as possible.  As long as the things we create continue to make people happy, we’ll continue doing exactly what we are doing.

[purplebailiffcalzonepaper]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Judgemental Crows from Hobby Lobby.

[reveal-the-news]

Martha Stewart opens The Bedford! Inside the lifestyle goddess' first American restaurant in Vegas

Martha Stewart opens The Bedford! Inside the lifestyle goddess’ first American restaurant in Vegas

Martha Stewart opened her first restaurant in Las Vegas: The Bedford Martha Stewart at the Paris Hotel in Nevada City. The lifestyle icon, 81, spoke exclusively to DailyMail.com in Vegas about his new venture, which was modeled after his farmhouse in Bedford, New York. The restaurant offers guests an immersive ‘Martha Stewart’ experience with an impressive menu featuring Martha’s favorite recipes…

[ashley-slashley]

enough with the rustic and shabby chic farmhouse aesthetic. i want tacky and absurd farmhouse aesthetic. ceramic cow statues, curtains with chickens on them, wall decorations of livestock, fake versions of plants you’d see on a farm, and other things that were in my childhood home. martha stewart, buzzfeed, better homes and gardens, and all these other uncultured trendy folks don’t have shit on true farmhouse aesthetic. grayscale isn’t farmhouse aesthetic, tacky farm themed wallpaper and loud colors are farmhouse aesthetic. shit, john r dilworth has a better grasp on what farmhouse aesthetic is

[thisweekingambling]

Martha Stewart Restaurant Coming to Vegas

Martha Stewart Restaurant Coming to Vegas

Perhaps you’ve heard rumors of a new Martha Stewart restaurant that would soon be opening in Las Vegas. And if so, we’re now happy to confirm that the rumors are true, and the eatery will open at the Paris Casino sometime this spring. In what is being described at a “fully immersive” experience, the concept of the restaurant will focus on Martha’s country farmhouse from New York. Martha and her…

[jana-hallford]

Vintage Kitchen Enamelware

Inexpensive and easy to clean, enamelware kitchen and household items were very commonplace for more than a hundred years. I first noticed enamelware items such as coffee pots in Western films and television programs when I was a child. I also sometimes saw an enamel pan or two in stores that sold camping supplies. When my fascination with vintage kitchen things continued as a young adult, I learned more about enamelware, and discovered charming European pieces I had never seen before. In recent times, Farmhouse and Country French interior decorating trends have kindled popular interest in vintage enamelware. 

Vitreous enamel, often called porcelain enamel, is made by fusing a thin layer of powdered glass to a surface capable of withstanding the high temperature firing process. The receiving metal, glass, or ceramic surface is called a substrate. The powder melts, flows, then cools, creating a hard, smooth coating. 

Enameling has been done for centuries. It was mainly used for decorative objects and jewelry until the 1800s, when manufacturers began producing enamel cookware, sinks, bathtubs and other consumer items. 

Enamelware kitchen items were developed in Europe, then came to North America in the mid 1800s. The earliest pieces were solid color, then speckled and marbled surfaces were introduced. By the late 19th and early 20th Centuries some enamelware had floral designs or decorative patterns and lettering. After World War II a variety of other materials took over much of the kitchenware market share, but enamelware kitchen utensils never completely disappeared. Enamelware cookware and colanders are still made and sold today.

Below are photos of various vintage enamelware pieces, followed by links for more information. 

Because enamelware was relatively cheap and widely available, it was found in many modest homes. Appreciating the beauty and functionality of older pieces also makes me feel a connection to the lives and labor of the people who owned and worked with them.

Vintage blue graniteware colander. (Seller dated it to the 1920s.)

Vintage grey graniteware enamel funnel.

Vintage floral enamelware. 

Vintage or antique French enamelware salt box.

Vintage French enamelware match holder. Matches were a kitchen essential for homes with cast iron wood-fired stoves. Matches were still needed for the first generations of gas stoves that followed (made from enameled steel). For decades gas stoves had pilot lights that had to be lit with each use.

Vintage French enamelware utensil rack with a floral motif. I have seen many of these, often dating from the 1920s to the 1940s.

Vintage French yellow and white enamelware salt box and utensil rack.

Vintage blue and white enamelware utensil rack.

Vintage French enamelware red and white utensil rack.

Vintage white and blue enamelware utensil rack, pans, and pitcher.

Antique or very vintage German enamelware holder for soda, sand, and soap, important household cleaning products in the first part of the 20th Century.

Vintage or antique German enamelware sand, soda, and soap rack. Although having a special place – almost a shrine! – for these three ingredients was something primarily German and Dutch in the early to mid 1900s, at the time these were staple cleaning products throughout Europe and America.

Vintage Dutch enamelware “Zand, Zeep, Soda” rack, circa 1950s.

Vintage enamelware rack of “Measuring Spoons’ that are actually little ladles.

Vintage (1940s) cream and green enamelware bread bin.

Vintage cream and green enamelware sauce pan.

Set of white and black enamel pans.

Mid-Century white and black refrigerator pan.

Vintage red and white square enamelware pan, 1950s.

In the 1950s and 1960s, movies and television programs about cowboys in the Old West were in demand. Monterrey Western Ware, a popular line of enamelware dinnerware made in Mexico, was introduced in the 1960s.

Vintage Monterrey Western Ware enamelware dinner plate with a chuckwagon illustration, surrounded by cattle brand motifs. Western movies made the chuckwagon cook, feeding cowboys on the open range, an iconic image of the Old West.

Vintage brown marble enamel coffee set. Each cup holds two cups of liquid.

Vintage white with blue trim enamel bain marie sauce pan. It was used over a pan of boiling water to prepare sauces or melt chocolate.

Vintage enamelware coffee pot with rooster design, circa 1960s or 1970s.

Set of white and green enamel cookware, circa 1960s or 1970s.

I have a vintage yellow enamelware stock pot like this, bought second hand for a few dollars twenty years ago. Luckily I acquired many of my vintage items before “farmhouse” décor became popular. 

Good histories of enamelware are available on line, including the Collector’s Weekly website. The article linked includes information on dating pieces.

The Old and Interesting website article has details about the evolution and drawbacks of earlier enamelware, and a timeline of its history.

Martha Stewart gives a nice concise history of enamelware in America, along with advice on collecting and caring for enamelware.