Renovation chores done today! Last stroke of paint tomorrow, so i’m excited to see how it turns out! I will make sure to take photos of the newly colored walls tomorrow so i can share some progress photos with you guys. Just too dark to get some proper ones now.

Sooo, since everything is done for today, i’m sharing a couple colored selfies in honor of a special someone. *winks at anon*



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hey guys i just invented a new chip, or crisp if you will they’re called Prindles™ they look like this

but potatoes. they’re named after my late lover R. Prindle. 

She only ever sang when she knew nobody was around.

He always loved it when she sang.

The first time he heard it was after a night of late work.  One of their first together.  It ended at his apartment.  They worked very hard.  

And afterward, coming from his bathroom as he caught his breath, came her voice.  She was singing Sinatra.  And he was entranced.

Kid, your pipes are dynamite, he said.  Really phenomenal.  You could be a professional.  He rambled on about her in that very Johnson way.  The way he did so often.  He didn’t even realize how embarrassed she was.  She never let him see it.  

Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.  I’m glad you like it.  Sir.

She didn’t continue.  He didn’t notice.  He was too caught up in her.

He tried to get her to sing at work the next day.  

He was constantly drawing attention to his incredible new assistant despite her obvious discomfort whenever he did so.  Crowing about her over the company-wide intercom.  Fawning over her constantly.

Some days she enjoyed it.  Making that stupid Burns & Allen joke together.  Grinning and laughing as the employees who had to listen to them chewing up the work hours with inane banter over the PA system rolled their eyes at each other in the cubicles.  She could be in the spotlight if she was with him.

But some days she wished he wouldn’t.  She was glad he liked her so much, he made her feel pretty wonderful after all, but she didn’t like being put in the spotlight by herself.

He kept trying to put her there.

He was Cave Johnson.  He lived his life in the spotlight.  He OWNED the spotlight.  It was HIS damn spotlight.  He made his boys in the lab build a BIGGER spotlight so that he could be in it ALL THE TIME.  And he wanted to make sure everybody knew that he had only the best of everything.

The best suits.  The best whiskey.  The best cars.  

And above and beyond all else, the best girl on his arm.

Everyone needed to see that.  To know that.

Nothing else was worthy of Cave Johnson.

But Caroline did not exist in the spotlight.  She wanted to aim it.

Wanted to exist just outside it.  Where there was no PRESSURE, no DEMANDS.  

Being overlooked meant feeling safe.  Meant she didn’t have to perform.  Meant she didn’t get put on the spot and grilled in front of everyone.

Caroline sang for herself.  

She sang in the bathroom after a night with her boss.  She sang doing chores.  She sang while filing paperwork.  While making dinner in a place she rarely ever called home anymore. While walking down the hall to his office. 

And yes, sometimes she sang for him.

But besides then, she only ever sang when she knew nobody was around.

One of the biggest fights they ever had was after a Christmas party.

Cave had tried to give her the microphone.  Tried to get her to sing a Christmas Carol with him.  She had been singing carols in his apartment for weeks.  She was divine.  He wanted her to sing.  She was the best and everyone needed to know it.

But the party was loud, and she was overwhelmed, and she had no desire to be anywhere or doing anything but burying her face in her boss’s chest and sleeping.

He insisted.

So did she.

Drinks had been had.  Tempers flared.

She ran out crying.

He never did understand why, but he slowly learned.  As much as he wanted to show off that he had what he thought was the best girl in the world, she was not happy with that.  

He never understood why it didn’t make her happy to be acknowledged as the best.  To be celebrated for her talents.  Who wouldn’t want that?  He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that not everybody thought that way.  But he respected it as best he could.

She continued to sing.  

Whether he knew it or not it was the greatest compliment she could give him that she sang when he was there.  She only ever sang when she knew nobody was around.

He kept buying old crooners’ albums, even as the music changed.  Sure, the new music was good, but she didn’t sing it the way she sang the old stuff.  He kept telling himself he would fly her to the moon someday.

Music became so important to them.

She sang at home.  Behind closed doors.  She sang for herself, and nobody else but him.

She sang in what was in all but name their apartment now, and he heard her and smiled from across the room.

One year, she did join him in singing that song he wanted her to sing.  But only behind their closed office doors.  It was as good as he knew it would be.  Above ground, it was cold outside.

She sang to cheer him up in the limo coming home from a meeting gone wrong.

She sang to cheer herself as the numbers got worse, and it was always one of the few things that always made him smile.

She sang at his bedside.  She’s sure she saw him smile.

And when he was gone, she stopped.  No song would ever pass those lips again.

Countless years later, she still only ever sang when she knew nobody was around.

anonymous asked:

i dont think ur answering q's anymore but how do people meet troye after the concert? did they get vip?

VIP just gets you early access and a bunch of exclusive merch, but those who met troye stayed really late after the show had ended, probably at least a couple hours