#troy ounce
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~ Silver ~
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Ounces and Pounds vs. Troy Ounces and Troy Pounds
Troy ounces and troy pounds are not used very often, but due to their similarities to standard pound and standard ounce, they can cause issues and misunderstandings - this can be costly since troy ounces and even troy pounds are still used almost exclusively for weighing precious metals like gold, platinum, silver and similar.
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Visualizing Gold Deposits In Africa's Mines
South Africa has the world’s largest gold reserves, all along the Witwatersrand Basin, a 300km long geological formation. Along it are seven gold mines, and each have been mined for large amounts of precious metal.
Each mine has a significant ecological and human cost to it, with damage to the environment, and poor working conditions for many.
Designer Dillon Marsh has an interesting series where…
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USA - thin gold foil banknotes from few US states, each with 1/1000 of troy ounce 24K gold. The reverse on the right side is just a reverse print of the face of note. The last photo shows on black spots, that similar notes have the differences as: date & serial number. Please also note, that there are notes marked as: UTAH or ONE UTAH, as well as NEVADA & ONE NEVADA on the very top level.
#states#USA#24 k GOLD#banknote#banknot#fantazyjny#fantasy#fancy#1/1000 of troy ounce#not circulated#note#nieobiegowy#for collectors#kolekcjonerski#Nevada#Wyoming#Utah#South Dakota#złoto#golden#pozłacany#gold foil
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In 1929 the price of a troy ounce of gold was $20. There are 32.15 ozt per 1kg bar, so that equals $6,430 for 10kg of gold.
Today an ounce of gold is $2,344.90 per troy ounce. That equals $753,885.35 for 10kg of gold.
The average home price in the USA in 1929 was $4,902. So 10kg of gold would have gotten you nice size home.
The average home price in the USA today is $412,095. So 10kg of gold would get you a nice size home today as well.
Its not that gold has gone up in value, its that the dollar has lost 99.14% of its purchasing power since 1929 due to the printing and expansion of the currency supply.
Property values didn't go up by 840.67%, the dollar lost that much purchasing power 95 years.
~Citizens for Sound Money 💰
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Disclaimer: I love and use the Metric system and am in NO WAY advocating for its abolition
However,
I really fucking love old, bizarre, hard-to-calculate measurement systems. Sometimes they're fairly simple, and sometimes they evoke a world for me where people got very into one particular realm of expertise and did not worry much about the minutiae of others. Because if they did that profession's guild would send around enforcers to stop them from encroaching onto their turf.
Practical example: Eggs! I've always bought eggs in the dozen. But the dozen is itself a unit of measurement, and it blew my mind when I first learned of places that sold eggs in units of 10.
Meanwhile, horses only make sense in Horse. They're measured in hands, half-hands, and quarter-hands. One hand is 4 inches. The decimal system works in base four, so 14.2 hands means 14 hands and 2 inches. (That's 58 inches, measured from the hump just before a horse's neck begins. It's also about the size of a large pony or small horse.)
Carats. In ye oldey dayes, a troy ounce (1/12 of a troy pound) was made up of 24 ounce carats, which were divisible into 20 grains troy, or, four ounce grains (a totally different thing from grain grains) which could then make four ounce quarters of 1.5 grains each. What the fuck. Wheels within wheels.
(Yes, that's why we talk about "24 carat gold", meaning that as close as is humanly possible, all 24 carats of the ounce are pure gold. It's a great fineness for a ring that will get the absolute shit beaten out of it if you work with your hands.)
Nautical miles should bother me more but honestly they make way more sense than the other miles do because I've read Longitude. It's 1/60 of 1/360 of the circumference of the earth. The earth is a giant sundial. I can't explain it any more clearly than that.
Bushels. Bushels don't make sense anymore but we still pretend they do. "A bushel of oats weighs 34 pounds," we say. "A bushel of barley is 48." Back in MY day, a bushel was 8 dry gallons, 4 pecks, or 2 kennings, and that's the way we LIKED it.
Board feet. My brother handles lumber for a living and he's explained it to me half a dozen times but I still don't and maybe never will understand board feet.
#well he HANDLED lumber for a living#but he hacked the work computers until he could see how much everyone was being paid#and how much money the ceo was funnelling into his private accounts and ventures#and told a coworker he was being underpaid#and he claims it's probably unrelated but I find it SUSPICIOUS TIMING that he got laid off a week later#ANYWAY
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Better
Ch. 11: Three Months But It Feels Like Forever
Note: Hello! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it and just a warm hope you had a good day to those who don't. Another chapter written in the middle of the night, so...you know. Still I hope you enjoy it. Unfortunately our fave couple still has troubles ahead, but there's a fun, a little (a lot) crazy surprise at the end. As always, thank you for all of the love on this story, I'm really grateful for it. It really inspires me and makes this stuff even easier to share. You're all great. I love interacting so feel free to continue. Also this is short but the next one will be longer bc it's something big. Also again, this taglist situation is probably my bad so I'm gonna sort it out, try again next chapter, and then y'all can tell me if it worked, bc atp I'm embarrassing myself. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. <3
Charlotte's Work Party Look
Lip's Work Party Look
“So this is bullshit. He dumps her for one basketball game?”
“That’s not what happened, he was having an inner conflict, and he was only sixteen.”
“Sixteen year old piece of shit.”
Charlotte huffs, continuing to run her fingers through his blond curls. Lip is laid across the couch, his head in Charlotte’s lap, hand underneath her thigh. Debbie is sitting on the floor in front of the television and Troy Bolton had just told his friends he didn’t give a shit about Gabriella.
“He’s just choosing basketball and his friends.” Debbie protests, breaking free from her basketball boy trance to argue with her brother.
“Basketball and his friends can’t get his dick wet-ow! Charlotte.” he winces, rubbing the spot on his scalp where his girlfriend had decided to bury her hand and tug. “Damn it, I was just sayin’ he’s got like one game left in the season, why does he need to break up with her to play? And that shit she just wrote on the board is wrong-why the hell are we watchin’ this shit?”
“You just don’t get it.” Debbie huffs, pausing the movie. She pushes off of the floor and grabs the popcorn from the coffee table. “Let’s watch try again when he’s not here.”
“Oh excuse me.” Lip rolls his eyes as his sister storms off, running up the steps. When he looks back up at his girlfriend, her cheek is dimpling with her deep frown. “What?”
“You ruined movie night” she fake pouts, rubbing her hand along his chest.
Lip smirks, before indulging her, sitting up and tilting her chin with his finger. “Aw, did I?” he kisses her cheek, “I don’t think I did.” her jaw, “We could go in my room and make our own movie.”
“Yeah?” Charlotte hums, meeting his lips briefly with her own before pulling back. “Can’t. I have work.”
“Stay here,” he murmurs, pulling her back to him. “You can dance for me.”
Giggling, Charlotte lets herself be pulled back in, exchanging kisses with the blond until his phone buzzes on the couch next to him, a dreaded name lighting up on the screen. She pulls back fully this time, standing to go get dressed. “Your professor is texting you. At 8:36 at night.”
Blue eyes watch Charlotte disappear up the staircase before closing tiredly. Lip had been dodging almost all of Helene’s communications. He would read her texts to make sure they had nothing to do with his job, and only responded when they did. He’d hoped that was enough, but everytime Charlotte saw that name pop up on his phone she would retract from him. Leave the room, pick up Liam, interact with anyone but him. One morning she asked again, if she had a thing for him, or if they’d hooked up in the past. No matter how much he wanted to, Lip just couldn’t bring himself to answer her with a yes.
“Fuck,” he breathes to himself, before running up the stairs after her. He pushes the door to his bedroom open. “Charlotte-” he pauses, staring at her, taking in her form. She stands in her work outfit, if you could call it that, the only thing offering an ounce of covering is the one leg of a juicy tracksuit she was putting on over it. “Um, what the fuck?”
She turns, meeting him with confusion, giving him a glimpse of the front which only has him letting out a laugh of disbelief. “What?”
“What? You’re gonna wear that to work?”
“Oh,” she shrugs, putting her leg through the other hole and pulling the pants up. “Yeah.” she chirps, reaching past him to grab the matching jacket, zipping it over the small bikini top she has on.
“The only thing that shit covers is your nipples.” Lip says, scratching his head.
“S’a stripclub, Phillip. They’re supposed to see stuff.” she giggles. Her laughter stops when she sees his stoic face. Charlotte makes her way over to him, cupping his cheek, “Hey, you said you were good with this. You’re not?”
Lip looks away from her for a second, shifting on his feet. He’s too embarrassed to admit to her that he thinks he agreed to this whole stripper situation too soon. He’d never been a jealous guy, so he didn’t think it was a problem, but he supposes that jealousy is a new feeling that Charlotte had brought into his life. “No, baby I am, just…shit.”
“What shit. Like shit? Or shit.”
Lip closes the distance between them, waiting for her to meet him in a peck, patting her ass when she does. “Watch your mouth.” he mumbles against her lips.
Big brown eyes just stare up into his blue ones. “M’workin’ for us, remember?” She whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing his hair at the nape. “Besides, why would I look at the losers that hang out at the club, lookin’ at me all night when I could come work and be with my sexy boyfriend?”
“Good point.”
“Yeah?” she laughs, letting him pull her into a bunch of small pecks, between matching smiles. The couple starts to get lost in each other again, only breaking away at the sound of Lip’s phone going off again. Charlotte pulls back with a blank look on her face. “Your other girlfriend is trying to reach you.”
Lip rolls his eyes and sighs as she slips past him again, running down the stairs. “Bunny-”
“Just take me to work, Gallagher.”
“You do privates, honey?” A drunken man slurs, leering at Charlotte, waving a hundred dollar bill in front of her face. He’s with a group of older men who’d been tipping shittily and buying the cheapest drinks since they’d gotten there.
“No, sir I don’t, but the ladies that do are on the other side of the club…and they charge more than that.”
The man’s lip curls as he stands, scowling at the woman. Charlotte subtly takes a step back, glancing over at security, ready to call them if he got aggressive.
“Hold on, wait a minute, Trent. That’s my daughter in law you’re talkin’ to.” a voice rasps.
“Frank?”
The scraggly man emerges from the crowd of older men on the couch, positioning himself between Charlotte and the other man. “The one and only.” His gaze drops briefly. “Nice outfit.”
Charlotte wraps her arms over her chest and frowns at the man. “What’re you doing here, Frank?” She looks at the group behind him. “Are you in trouble?”
“Trouble? I’m enjoying the ambience! You and your lovely naked friends are a sight to behold-”
“Oh, God, Frank!” Charlotte gasps, covering her mouth to hide her disgust.
“What? You have a beautiful form!”
“I’m calling Phillip.” she huffs, turning to go to the locker room, she pauses as a thought passes through her mind. Twirling back around she makes her way back over. “Frank, what are you paying with?”
“Oh,” the older man produces a sock full of cash from his pocket. It’s familiar to Charlotte. Ever since Frank and Monica located the first squirrel fund, Fiona had started keeping the money in a new place. In the dry rotted hole on the floor between the wall and the dryer. Inside of the sock that Frank was currently dangling in Charlotte’s face. “I came into some money.”
“Hey, that’s-” Charlotte tries to grab it, only for Frank to yank it away at each attempt. “For the house! For bills, for Carl’s field trip this month-”
“That’s my house that you’re shacking up in fyi. This is Gallagher money, and therefore it’s mine to spend. Now point me in the direction of the ladies giving private dances. I’m a private man.”
“Frank, I can’t let you spend that-” Charlotte argues, grabbing one end of the sock and pulling. Frank is tugging at the other until he stumbles into a table, causing a couple glasses to fall and shatter, leaving Charlotte with the sock. Charlotte stands over the man angry, disgusted, and feeling a wave of hate she’s never really felt for anyone. Up until this point, she really didn’t consider Frank beyond the far and few in between memories Lip shared. But now she was seeing the man be shitty live and in person. And she was fed up. “It’s for your fucking kids you deadbeat!”
Two seconds later security is grabbing Frank and the manager on staff that night, Sarah, is pulling Charlotte a couple steps away. She can distantly hear Lip’s father yelling and cursing as he’s dragged from the club. “Lottie, what happened?”
“I…Frank is my boyfriend’s father, and he’s trying to spend their house money, and he was being a dick about it-”
“Okay, okay. Well, Frank knows he’s not really supposed to be in here anyway, so it won’t happen again. The new guy at the door must have let him slip through. But, because a personal altercation occurred out on the floor, I have to send you home, babe.”
“Damn, really?” Charlotte whines, looking at the crowd starting to pour into the club, no doubt big spenders. She could practically see the dollar signs fading away. Sara offers her a sympathetic look, shrugging. “Fine, okay, let me call my boyfriend to pick me up.”
Lip had been dead asleep when Charlotte let him know she needed to be picked up from work. He has work tomorrow and so in an attempt to get some real sleep, he was in their room at V and Kev’s house, taking advantage of the quiet. He’d rushed over to get her, grabbing Kev’s car keys without asking and noting to himself that a car should probably be the first thing on their list to purchase with the Bunny Bank. When he pulled up out front she was already waiting there for him, the big burly security man, John waiting beside her to walk her to the car.
He and Lip exchange nods as Charlotte climbs into the car pouting. “What happened?” Lip immediately questions, barely letting the door closed. “Someone was fuckin’ with you?”
Charlotte huffs, buckling her seatbelt, allowing him to turn the light on and try to check her for any bruises or injuries. “No…kinda, just- your dad showed up.”
“Fuckin’ Frank.”
“Yeah, right, and he had all of your house money, and I tried to get it back, and he wouldn’t give it back, and we fought and I told him he was a piece of shit deadbeat.”
Lip frowns at that. He hates this part of having a girlfriend. It’s fucking humiliating. He doesn’t know how Fiona lets a bunch of different guys get involved with their family shit. Finding Frank drunk in the yard, Monica coming and spewing her bullshit, now Frank was showing up at Charlotte’s job. And she was fighting with him over money he’d stolen from his children. It’s fucking embarrassing. “Yeah, well, that’s Frank, don’t worry about that shit okay?”
“Well he was stealing from-”
“Fiona and I handle it, it’s not your problem, alright?” Lip says, muscle in his jaw jumping in irritation.
From the corner of his eye he can see Charlotte stare at him with a hurt expression for a moment, before sitting back in the passenger seat, facing forward. “Okay.” she drops the sock full of money on his lap.
The rest of the ride is quiet, Lip drives her through dingy streets, in a borrowed car and wallows in shame. Charlotte is leaning as far into the door as possible, far from him. When they pull up to their neighborhood she hops out of the car before Lip can open the door, going over to Kev and V’s house. Lip follows a couple paces behind quietly, assuming the fact that she’d left the door unlocked was a sign she still wanted him to come with her.
As he enters the room he finds Charlotte already in her pajamas, curled up on the bed facing the wall. Small movements let him know she’s crying. The blond quietly slips behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his face against hers, pressing soft quiet kisses against her cheek. “M’sorry, baby.”
She just offers a sniffle in response.
Lip sighs loudly, dropping his head to the desk. His eyes fucking burn. He got little to no sleep after he’d basically told Charlotte off and made her cry, and she was quiet as hell this morning. He was such a screw up. “Fuck” he curses, grabbing a cigarette and his lighter from his bag, leaning back in his desk chair as he sparks it.
“Gallagher! You have a visitor!” Eric calls from the hallway. Immediately, Lip’s mind goes to Charlotte. Maybe she was feeling better and didn’t fucking hate him for telling her off for caring about him.
“Let her in!”
The door creaks open revealing Helene with a condescending smile plastered on her face. “You’re a hard man to hunt down, Phillip Gallagher.”
He just sighs, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. “M’busy.”
“With what? Work or your girlfriend?” Helene sits in the chair across from Lip, crossing her legs, rolling her eyes when he doesn’t bother answering, taking another drag. “I’m kidding. But you have been ignoring my calls.”
“Well, you’re here now. What’d you wanna talk about?”
A muffled voice that could only be Eric’s is heard through the door. “His office is this way. You look great by the way.” The door to Lip’s office pushes open again, and who enters this time has him shooting out of his seat. “Gallagher, your girlfriend’s here.” Eric grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as Charlotte slowly makes her way in, eyes flicking between Lip and Helene.
“Fucking shit, okay-” Lip mumbles under his breath, holding his arm out for Charlotte to come to him. He watches as she rolls her shoulders back, standing straight and walking behind Lip’s desk, leaning into him. “Hel-Helene, this is my girlfriend Charlotte, Charlotte, this is my old Professor Helene.”
“Nice to meet you, young lady.” Helene says, holding her hand out.
Charlotte takes a deep breath before setting down the bag she was carrying in her hand, reaching over and taking Helene’s hand. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs.-”
“Miss.”
“Ms. Helene.” Charlotte finishes, a tight smile on her face.
The blonde woman laughs, tossing her head back. “Just Helene is fine.”
“Mm well, I dunno. Doesn’t seem right.” Charlotte shrugs, leaning further into Lip. “Thank you, by the way, for helping him get this job, it’s been wonderful.”
“You’re welcome. It was no problem at all, Phillip is a special boy.”
“I know,” Charlotte grins even harder, roughly patting Lip’s cheek. “A very special man. So proud of him.”
Lip watches the exchange trying to figure out if he should be nervous, laugh, or think it’s hot that Charlotte is staking her claim right now, running her hand along his hair, face and chest as she pretends to smile at Helene.
Eric clears his throat stepping further into the room himself. “Charlotte, something smells great, and it came when you did so either you smell amazing or you cooked something.”
“Oh, I,” She takes a piece of blue tupperware out of the bag, placing it in front of Lip. “I made you lunch, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning and you didn’t take lunch so…I thought we could eat and talk, but, I see you’re busy.”
Lip turns to her, voice softening as he grabs her hand. “Bunny, I’m sure I can-”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Eric sighs, tapping his own forehead. “I meant to give you some assignments from my dad, I know it’s your lunch break, but you’d have to stay late otherwise.”
“Fuck.” Lips breathes, running his hand through his hair.
“It’s alright bro, I could take Charlotte to lunch.” Eric offers, not withering under the looks he received from the couple. “My girlfriend and I are meeting up anyway, let the girls hang out and spend my money, Becca’s always looking for a partner in crime.”
Charlotte looks at an apprehensive Lip. And she knows it’s wrong, but the way he and the cradle robber across the desk interact makes her feel petty. “Sure, if Lip’s busy.”
Lip fixes Charlotte with a look of betrayal that has her questioning her decision, but Eric is already guiding her away from him out of the door. Yeah, fuck that. Lip thinks, grinding his teeth as he goes to follow them out of the door. Helene’s hand shoots out to stop him before he can get far. “Oh, and Lip, before you get back to work, there’s a work dinner for all of the different departments that I’m hoping you’ll attend. I mean, I know your boss, Mr. Avery is excited to meet you there.”
“Look, uh, Helene, I mean, thank you for all of this. For the job, recommending me and shit, but,” He scratches his nose, “the texts, the calls, they have to stop. Like, now you’re visiting, and that’s weird, you see I have a girlfriend so…”
“Of course, I wouldn’t ever want to disrespect that, I just thought, after everything, we could be friends.” Helene stands, grabbing her purse. “Well, I can see now that’s inappropriate. But you really should come to this party. It’s good for your career to make friends and shake hands. Bring Charlotte with you.”
Lip tucks his head, “I dunno, I don’t…don’t really think Charlotte is gonna be in the mood, we uh, need to talk.”
“No matter what was going on, my husband and I always made it to each other’s work functions. We always supported each other’s careers. If someone can’t do that for you, are they really the one?”
The young man recoils, frowning at the implication. Yes. She is. Period. Full stop. They were out of tune today, but Lip knows what he knows. And he knows he and Charlotte are there for each other. He knows they love each other. He knows that these past few months were the best of his life. Even when he and Charlotte weren’t on good terms, he knew he wouldn’t want to be struggling to communicate with anyone else. “You uh, mean ex-husband. And she’ll be there.”
Helene barely hides the hurt look on her face before she lets out a short, “Great.”
“Do you think this is okay?” Charlotte twirls, the skirt of her brown dress flaring around her gives Lip ideas that he knows he shouldn’t be having. Especially while they were fighting. Kinda. Something else he’s learned over these last few months is that Charlotte holds stuff in. When she’s upset she doesn’t explode like his family does, shit like he does. Breaking property, getting arrested, fighting. She doesn’t withhold affection like Helene and Karen used to. No, she still let him touch her. Quietly letting him press his lips to her cheeks, not moving when he rubs his hips, bringing him lunch. It was the stillness. The angry tears. The lack of warmth that let Lip know things were strained. And it hurts.
“You look great, bunny. Fuckin’ beautiful.” Lip says from his bed, tapping his cigarette ashes into Ian’s ashtray.
“Okay, good. You ready?” Charlotte asks, smoothing her hands over her dress as she looks in the mirror. Her voice is so devoid of emotion, but her eyes are extremely expressive. Big brown pools full of sadness as they meet his in their reflection.
But Lip is new to this. New to trying to maintain. New to trying to keep someone of value. “Babe, uh, should we talk or somethin’?”
Charlotte takes a deep breath before turning to Lip with a tired smile. “Later. Let’s get you to your work thing and after you wow them with your big genius brain, we’ll leave early and try to get on the same page.”
“Yeah?” he stands, looking down at her.
Charlotte just shrugs, reaching over and adjusting his tie with a small smile playing at her lips. “Yeah.”
And that’s the game plan. When they arrive at the party, which they find is being hosted at a friend of the company’s house. If one could call it that. It looks like a fucking mansion, down to the marble columns. Lip felt out of place, everyone here looked so…expensive, and not in the ‘I worked my ass off way’. He felt different than he did when he’d met Helene’s friends back when they were hooking up. The only thing preventing the bounce in his leg as he basically paraded his intelligence to the highest bidder with the future of his family on the line, was Charlotte’s soft, steady hand on him at all times. Fingers intertwined with his. Rubbing circles on his back. Rested on his thigh as she leaned into him. All Lip could think about was the fact that he was here for her, for them. He could secure their futures together if he turned this internship into a permanent job. He could…could…shit. Is that what he wants? Hell, is that what she wants?
Lip’s thoughts are interrupted by Eric and Rebecca’s entrance. The latter immediately beams as she sees Charlotte, squeezing her way between crowds of people, turning her nose up at a tray of hors d'oeuvres being passed in front of her face. “Lottie!” she cheers, tugging Charlotte up by her hands, pulling her into a hug. “You look gorgeous my love, who are you wearing?”
“Um, I’m sorry, my mother got me this dress, but if you wanna pull the tag out-”
“Oh, no, honey it’s fine. You can call me with outfit details later, I need to go find Eric’s bitch of a mother.” she murmurs under her breath. “Sorry I couldn’t make lunch earlier, but thanks so much for reminding that asshole to bring me something. It’d be just like him to go to my favorite restaurant and bring me nothing.” Rebecca scoffs, tossing her hair before fixing a fake smile on her face, leaving to find her boyfriend’s mother.
“You,” Lip pauses, laughing in disbelief as he stands, looking between Eric and Charlotte. “You went to lunch together. Alone.” He nods to himself, still chuckling, slowly walking closer to Eric.
“Phillip.” Charlotte tries, putting her hand on his arm. “Phillip, we were already there when Rebecca said she wasn’t coming, stop.”
“Yeah, man, it’s nothing serious, I just took your girl to lunch, she’s probably never been to the nicer restaurants in Chicago before-”
“Man, I’m about to knock your fuckin’ head off.” the blond continues, calmly putting his drink down, the force making a sound that gathers the attention of passersby. Charlotte tugs at Lip again, pleading to him his ear, telling him to go get their jackets and she’d use the bathroom.
“Please, Phillip. Please. Just go get the jackets. Please. We don’t have to talk to him. Please.” she begs, cupping his face. Eric huffs as he watches the woman coddle her boyfriend and takes a deep swig of his drink wandering off to go find Rebecca.
Lip runs an angry hand through his hair stalking off to the room where the jackets are being kept without saying a word, trying to maintain his temper. But of fucking course. Of course he’d meet a girl like Charlotte. Of course she’d make him fall in love with her, and like a fucking idiot, he would. And of course they’d meet a jackass like fuckin’ Eric who wanted her, who could give her the things she deserved like nice dinners, cars, houses, the pretty fucking outfits she likes to wear. He could give her that without planning for months, saving, taking money in and out of their joint savings to take care of his batshit family. Lip slams the door behind him, going to sift through the coats before pausing, hearing sniffling from the other side of the room. “Uh, hello?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” a watery voice says, stepping out from the closet area Helene is clutching a tissue in her hand, going over to Lip. “I’m sorry, it’s just-” her words are cut off by sobs.
“Uh, shit, sit down.” Lip says, guiding her to sit on the bed in the room.
“I…my son just called, let me know he made it back to school okay. And…it slipped in conversation, his father went on a date. He’s started seeing someone. I’d thought…he’d maybe surprise me by coming here. Oh, and I was so rude about Charlotte earlier, but my partner is the one not here.”
Lip watches awkwardly as the older woman sobs, placing his hand on her shoulder after a moment, glancing around. Sure he felt bad for her, but after all this time, he’d realized she really had been a bitch to him. And her ex-husband. He’d thought so highly of her before, thought she was the best thing that would ever happen to him. Now she was crumpling in front of him and he could barely bring himself to comfort her. “Sorry. But, I thought that was like…you guys’ thing. Fucking other people.”
“No, that was more me, he…tolerated it.”
“Oh. That’s…shitty.” Lip whistles.
“It is.” Helene sighs, sniffing one last time. She wipes her face before fully looking at Lip. “I think I was filling some kind of void you know? Low self-esteem, issues with aging, I have them all. The only relationship I had outside of my marriage that meant anything is you.”
They hadn’t even heard it. At least, Lip hadn’t. The door opening. The sound of Charlotte coming to check on him since he hadn’t returned with their jackets. But he did hear her curse before slamming the door. He couldn’t move fast enough, leaving Helene behind he slips between the bodies of movers and shakers in scattered throughout the house, swinging open the door and running down the steps, finding Charlotte stumbling in the grass as she kicks off her heels, grumbling. “Charlotte!”
He catches up to her quickly, grabbing the car keys from the valet stopping at Kev’s truck. The woman keeps walking, head held high as she limps out of the gate. “Charlotte, are you serious? Get in the car.”
“No!”
“Fucksake.” he growls, getting into the car and backing out of the driveway, following alongside her slowly as she makes her way on foot. “It’s fucking dark, get in the car.”
“Leave me alone.” she huffs, crossing her arms, whining to herself about the dirt touching her feet.
The muscle in Lip’s jaw jumps, his scowl going deeper. He reaches over and lights a cigarette, smoking out of the window. “You know, you’re the one who went on a fuckin’ date with someone else today.”
Charlotte laughs, speeding up. “It wasn’t a fuckin’ date. His girlfriend was supposed to go, and she canceled. We were already there, and you were too busy eye-fucking that old professor that you conveniently left out you used to literally fuck.”
“I really don’t wanna talk about eye-fucking when you get naked for half of Chicago, alright?” Lip grits. Too far. He knows it immediately. He watches her stop, and look at him with hurt he never wants to see, her tear tracks shining in the lights from the streets. His own eyes glisten with unshed tears. He puts the car in park, cigarette still balanced between his lips as he hops out walking around the side and grabbing a kicking, protesting Charlotte by her waist, tossing her over his shoulder. Lip places her in the car and slams the passenger door before getting back into the driver’s seat, staring forward at the road.
Charlotte pettily snatches the cigarette from his mouth, opening her window and flicking it to the road. “Why didn’t you tell me you dated her?”
The blond takes a deep breath, letting his eyes slip closed. “I was embarrassed, and I thought it’d freak you out. That you’d ask me to quit cause she helped me get the job. And I would if you asked me to.”
“I would too. Quit. If you asked me to.” Charlotte sighs.
“I don’t wanna ask you to do that. You like it, it's good money, shit you just started. But I do hate it. Thought I wouldn’t, but I do.”
“So, we’ll talk about it more. Until we both know where we stand on it.” she says, facing forward too, she's quiet for another beat before speaking again. “I’m telling the truth about Eric.”
“I know.” Lip scrubs his hands down his face. “I know. And I am sorry that I yelled about that stupid shit with Frank. That bullshit just shouldn’t be your problem.”
“I want it to be my problem. I love your family and I love you. I want to be part of it. I want…I want to be your family. So I care about the money you guys saved being stolen, I care if Liam’s diapers get bought, and I care if Carl gets to go on his field trip.”
“Fuck, bunny, I know you care. I just don’t want you to deal with that shit, it’s fuckin embarrasin’ you having to see my family like that. Having to kick in money for the house.”
“It’s stuff I wanna do. Ian doesn’t walk on eggshells with Mickey. None of you do. You treat him like an honorary Gallagher. Why can’t you do that with me?”
The couple turns to each other now, Lip reaching over the console, grabbing Charlotte’s hand. “You’re fuckin’ better than us, bunny.” He says, one tear finally falling.
Charlotte reaches up, wiping away the drop before smoothing his hair. “You’re gonna stop talkin’ about my boyfriend and our family like that. Nothing is better than you.” She smiles as Lip brings her hand to his mouth kissing her hand. “Well, except Chad in high school musical, I mean, I let the Troy slander go, but he’s different-” she laughs into the kiss that he pulls her into, the two of them smiling into the embrace as they share soft, tender kisses.
The pair stays like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other. Sitting in the dimly lit car, running Kev’s gas on the side of the road without a care in the world. After a few moments of peace Lip decides to take a risk. It’s a big one, a very Fiona style decision. But those were random loser fuckers who got her off when she was vulnerable. This, this is Charlotte. His Charlotte. Who'd singlehandedly made his life better in the short time she'd been here. Who he loves an unexplainable amount that almost pisses him off. And he’s scared. Fuckin’ terrified. But he has to try.
“Sweetheart, how long have we known each other?”
Charlotte scoffs, playing with his fingers with an absent smile. “Well, three months, but it feels like forever. You know, I never know if people mean that in a good or bad way. I mean it the good way, obviously.” she beams at him, looking into his eyes and finding him with a serious face, her smile fades. “What?”
“Do you work tomorrow?”
“Hm, nope, not supposed to. You?”
His chest tightens as he answers her. He doesn’t believe in stars aligning, or cosmic whatever, but he thinks that this might just be the fate shit that Debbie is spewing all the time that makes no scientific sense. “Nah, I uh…threatened my boss, so I gotta see if I still have a job. I think he has a thing for my hot girlfriend that I’m..I’m uh really in love with.”
“If he does, he doesn't stand a chance. Because I really love my boyfriend.” she hums. If anything was gonna be his confirmation, Lip thinks this is it. Those words were enough. “So what’s with the questions? You wanna do something?” she asks cutely, leaning her cheek into his hand.
This is it.
He looks down into her brown eyes and decides this is what he wants to see forever. Looking at anything else sucks anyway.
“Yeah, um…”
Just fuckin’ do it pussy.
“You wanna go get married?”
#oc#fiona gallagher#ian gallagher#kevin ball#lip gallagher#lip gallagher x oc#lip gallagher x reader#shameless#veronica fisher#gallagher#charlotte fisher#love#mickey milkovich#ian x mickey#better
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IWTV S2 Ep3 - Random Musings (Spoilers)
This was the best S2 ep by far; they're just getting better & better. I have so much to say; I can't even keep up. This is just the random stuff I don't have AS MUCH to comment on (yet).
AMC, we GOTTA get some flashbacks of Papa DPDL. We know so much about Les' folks, but nothing about Lou's pops. :(
Not "Real Rashid" going bar for bar vs Sartre abt morality & evil!? 👏
"Wolf Wrangler," I hate this effing show so much, please stop it.
SANTIAGO BACKSTORY LFG; we're finally being fed!
Ohhhhh.... Francis "Santiago" Naughton, I see~! They're definitely leaning into the Sant-"iago" of it all from Othello--nice touch!
1921--Santiago's a BABY vampire. (And omg he loved Annika's "performance" so much that he incorporated it into his regular lineup! Sickos! XD) I saw the Siophmedia review call it the Mimic Gift, which I love--expanding the AR lore.
Thoughts & prayers to this dude, being stuck for all eternity as an old man; relegated to backstage work with the noob stuck for all eternity as a little girl. (Hilarious how this is in blatant violation/disregard of Marius & Rhosh's Great Law #2 about beauty.)
Vampires sneeze?! 😂 Estelle is the ONLY Theatre vamp I like, bless!
ROTFLMFAO. Humor on this show comes from the WILDEST of places; I love it.
Someone's saaaaaaltyyyyyy~! 👀👀👀👀
Welp, now we know where Louis'll spend "ETERNITY IN A BOX," when they drag him in that burlap sack.
Louis' a strong independent man don't need no coven! 😤👏 Especially not you WEIRDOS. Monsieur LDPDL would NEVER allow anyone to make him act like a clownish BUFFOON on some stage, or write/film creepshows everyone points and laughs at, are you crazy?
Louis said SKILL ISSUE. 💀
Don't act coy now! XD You go and OWN your bussypowers, Louis of Troy! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
I am STUNNED this trash liar won a Pulitzer for investigative journalism. Truly a dying industry.
Armand, my love, you have no idea. 👀
Deflection & misdirection, as usual with these vamps.
SHADE.
Roget the "FIRST" eh?... 🧛🏼 This completely removes Nicki as the founder of the Theatre, but I guess it makes sense that Armand would be the one communicating with Roget, cuz lord knows Nicki wasn't "fit to pick an apple off a tree in his current state...." 👀👐 Louis, Armand's fed you a crock of lies; don't be fooled by his pretty doe eyes! You were SET UP, my guy; he was SICK of that coven for hundreds of years; WAY b4 Lestat AND YOU showed up!
Then he hangs Lestat's portrait on the wall as a shrine and says he's their co-founder, while breathing not a word about how Lestat gave the Theatre TO NICKI, NOT ARMAND. Where's Nicki at, Armand!? 👀👐 Where's Claudia at, Armand!? 👀☀️ Why do all of Lestat's fledglings go missing under YOUR supervision, Mr. I Could Not Prevent It? I swear, those 🥺👉👈 eyes are lethal weapons!
STUNT QUEEN. Behind every gay man is a gayer, more evil man!
And he took that PERSONALLY.
Siri, google when butt-plugs were first invented.
Armand's FACE! 😭 Yeah, Lou don't make a lick of sense sometimes. Thank god he's pretty! But for every ounce of pretty there's another TONNE of mental trauma. If I were Armand, I'd've cut my losses and left Lou's arse to "Bruce" right then & there. Now look at you!
Incredible episode. 👏
Preview for Ep4:
I hate it here. 😱
I'm sorry, but I simply CANNOT with Loumand, knowing what's coming. I never have, and at this rate I NEVER WILL! Armand, I don't care what weird dynamics you & Lou are always up to, but by putting your hands on MY daughter!? DISHONOR!
Armand, Louis is right: you just earned yourself a spot on my hit list.
I'll rant about Loumand specifically in a separate post--this ep was A LOT, omg I'm exhausted.
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Reales, pieces of eight, doubloones and ducats
Who doesn't know it, in films and books there are always stories about great pirate treasures and lots of coins are shown. But what kind of coins are they? Here is a small overview.
Silver real
Silver coin: 8 reales Fernando VI, Viceroyalty of New Spain - 1757 (x)
The real was a coin and a currency in Spain for several centuries after the mid-14th century, weighing 0,12 ounces (3,43g) of silver, and these were eight reales to a peso, hence the term " pieces of eight" for pesos.
Silver piece of eight or Spanish Dollar
Spanish piece of eight, 1780 (x)
Was an early Spanish silver dollar sized coin, with a content of 25.563 g = 0.822 oz t fine silver. As Spanish mints issued silver denominations smaller than eight reales relatively infrequently, these coins would sometimes be chopped up into smaller pieces to provide small change. In the 17th and 18th centuries, so many were in circulation that they were accepted almost anywhere in the world. The American doller sign $ was derived from the figure 8 stamped on the side of the piece of eight, the silver peso (or piaster). They were minted at Mexico City and Lima in Peru, and were common currency in all of England's colonies, being valued at four shillings and sixpence. Often they wre cut into eight pieces for ease of transaction, so that two bits made a quarter. The origin of the American phrase, not worth two bits, is from the days when the English colonies around Massachusetts used this Spanish money. Pieces of eight were produced for about 300 years, in Mexcio, Peru and Colombia, and they became the standard unit of trade between Europe and China. They wre legal tender in the USA until 1857. Before the Spanish started exploiting Potosi in Peru (in today's Bolivia), silver was almost as valuable as gold in the Old World. Such were the quantities taken from the New World, that silver dropped to about a 1/5 of the value of gold. The Spanish exported four billion pesos of silver and gold from the New World between 1492 and 1830.
Gold ducat
Gold ducat of Venice. Doge Andrea Gritti, Italy, 1523-38 (x)
This was the European gold trade coin, containing around 3.5 grams (0.11 troy ounces) of 98.6% fine gold, during the late medieval and early modern period. The name derives from ducatus, the Latin form of the title of the Doge of Venice, whre the ducat was first issued 1284. Called the ducado, it was worth less than a doubloon, about 10-11 silver reales, and was known to the British seaman as a ducat. The coin was copied throughout mainland Europe, and coins of the ducat standard were struck in several European countries up to the 20th century.
Gold doubloon (doblôn)
Spanish 4-doubloon, or doubloon of 8 escudos, stamped as minted in Mexico city mint in 1798 (x)
This was an early Spanish gold coin, worth approximately $4 (four Spanish dollars) or 32 reales, and weighing 6.766 grams (0.218 troy ounce) of 22-karat gold (or 0.917 fine; hence 6.2 g fine gold). The name originally applying to the gold excelente of Ferdinand and Isabella. It was later transferred to the two escudo coin issued by Spain and the Spanish colonies in the Americas. It was the largest Spanish gold coin, weighing slightly less than an ounce of gold, and originates from the Latin word duplus, or double. A doubloon was worth about seven weeks wages to a sailor.
#naval history#general history#coins#reales#piece of eight#doubloon#ducat#medieval seafaring#age of discovery#age of sail#age of steam
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These little monkeys are 7 weeks old! The boys are now over 2 pounds/.91 kg. You can see their updated weight chart here:
Also about that spreadsheet is that if you look at the tabs at the bottom of the page, there's a "comparative weights" spreadsheet so you can see how they compare to previous litters at the same age.
Someone was asking about the kittens' personalities this week, so here's a very quick description of each kitten (you can take it as a given that each kitten is the most wonderful kitten ever, of course.) There are NO bonded pairs among this litter, everyone is good buddies with everyone else.
Kirk is Mr. Chill Dude - he's super nosy, wants to be in the middle of what you're doing, but you can do anything to him and he's just like "Okay, man." I've had to give him two baths in the past few weeks as he perfected his litterbox skills (which he has done), and both times he was perfectly fine, not a complaint out of him.
Spock is initially timid, but gets over it quickly; his Daddy must have been a Jumping Bean, because he will race and jump and skitter in every random direction. He is NUTS (in the best way.) In his own way he's as calm as Kirk is - I can pick him up, flip him over and he just shrugs and goes with it.
Janeway always greets me at the door and is so happy to see me. She has a super reactive tail that floofs at the slightest surprise or startle (JUST her tail). She is a silly little goofball, sweet, and loves to be kissed. She loves to jump on her siblings (and her mama) and wrestle (well, they all like to do that.)
Kes marches to the beat of her own drum and does things in her own time and her own way. She's everyone's best friend and will snuggle with whichever kitten is around. She tends to go off and snooze by herself, but is someone wants to join her, she is A-OK with that.
Troi is a sweet little chill girl with a very feisty side; I can pick her up and kiss her 1,000 times and she tolerates it with good cheer. She has no idea she's tiny - she will jump on her siblings, wipe the floor with them, and then stroll away smiling.
(Pic & description of mama Uhura will be up later.)
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Tola to Grams Conversion
The tola, also transliterated as tolah or tole, is an old Indian and South Asian unit of mass, now standardized as 180 grains (11.6638038 grams) or exactly 3/8 troy ounce.
Note: there is also a Pakistan tola, which equals 12.5 grams. In this article, we are referring to the standard/Indian tola of 180 grains. Also, some sources use the term "new tola," which equals 10g. Again, traditional tola varied, but it was standardized long ago as 180 grains, and as such, it should be used.
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This might be oddly specific but it was a thot that came to mind:
Which characters do you think would try to hide their growing bulge and which do you think wouldn’t? Like I feel as if some of them would WANT you to see what you do to them, and get you all embarrassed, while others would be horrified that they’re hard in front of you.
Well it's a good thing that I like oddly specific stuff 😉
Who Wouldn't Hide:
The Grabber/Albert Shaw - This man has no ounce of shame and would proudly show off that you got him hard. And then he would want you to immediately take care of it for him.
Troy Dyer - Loves to get you flustered, loves to get you all embarrassed while he teases you, and he would even go so far as to put your hand in his pants to let you feel just exactly what you do to him. He has no shame when it comes to teasing you.
King Aurvandil - Not only will he show off that he's hard, but he will occasionally openly fuck you in the open public if the mood strikes him. He loves to show off when you get him hard, will grind against you while growling into your ear, and he doesn't care who is there to see.
Travis Conrad - He doesn't really care where you two are at, if he gets hard then he's going to be pulling you close so you can feel him, and then he's going to be nuzzling and kissing you and whispering in your ear until next thing you know you're in the bathroom/storage closet getting wrecked.
James Costa - He likes showing you what you do to him, just like he enjoys sliding his hands between your thighs to feel what he does to you, and will be very vocal about how much he wants you. Most of the time he will just leave your hand there, idly reaching down to grind your hand against him, but will make you keep your hand placed over him until he's ready to take you somewhere private enough to fuck you.
Chet Baker - Has no shame and will either put your hands on him or shamelessly grind against you while murmuring softly in your ear all the stuff he wants to do to you. Will flirt and tease you until you are nearly clawing at him to get him inside you much to his delight.
Tucker Crowe - He's extremely handsy so the second he gets hard you will know about it. He's winking at you from across the room, nipping at your ear and nuzzling at the sensitive spot on your throat once you get close enough, and whispering in your ear all the dirty filthy things that goes through his head.
Everett Lewis - He just doesn't really care much to hide it. If he gets hard then he gets hard. If you don't want to see it then don't look is what he thinks about it. However he will adjust himself if he's in public, but that is a rare occurrence.
Lars Nystrom - Oh, he totally wants you to look. Almost dares you to look with a playful smile and bright cheerful eyes. He loves to get you flustered and embarrassed, makes him feel good, and he is quick about dragging you close and cheekily asking you to help him with his new problem.
Who Would:
Arthur Harrow - He is a gentleman so he would definitely hide his erection. However, if you two are alone and you get him hard, then he would be a bit more likely to show you. But usually he would hide it.
Edward Dalton - He is still getting used to having you there with him so he would be a bit embarrassed about getting hard near you. Would try to act nonchalant and discreetly adjust himself while you're distracted.
Goodnight Robicheaux - He is a southern gentleman. He will definitely hide his bulge from you, but will still whisper teasing flirty comments in your ear and send winks your way until you're dragging him away somewhere private.
Ellison Oswalt - Would hide it from you in public, but would absolutely show it off in the privacy of your home. Shamelessly grinding against you in the kitchen while you're trying to cook dinner while murmuring in your ear how hard he is for you, but usually just giving you bedroom eyes at a restaurant that will leave you a flustered mess.
James Sandin - He is a businessman who relies on his appearance and reputation so he keeps himself under control. However on the occasion where he does get hard for you, especially in public, he quickly hides it or excuses himself to the bathroom to adjust himself. Once home he will then happily tell you what happened.
Russell Millings - Would be mortified if he got hard in front of you. Enough where he would probably try to hide in the bathroom from the embarrassment.
Sal Procida - He's a detective so he has a certain image that he has to uphold so he would just casually adjust himself. Of course he would make sure to keep eye contact with you the entire time just so you would know what he's doing and then throw a sassy wink your way for good measure.
Ernst Toller - Would absolutely be horrified the second he feels himself getting hard. Would begrudgingly jerk off when the need got too great, then drink until he got tipsy, and then spiral as he prayed for forgiveness as he continued to masturbate while thinking of you.
Paul - He would hide out of respect for you. Wouldn't want to seem forward or like he's trying to make a pass at you (even if you are already together). It just boils down to his respect for you.
John Brown - Will so try to hide himself. Even if you are in a relationship and you tell him he doesn't have to hide he will still fluff his coat over his lap or excuse himself. Or even read the bible out loud or go on a long sermon that lasts until he forgets that he was hard in the first place.
#The Grabber#Albert Shaw#Arthur Harrow#Edward Dalton#Troy Dyer#Goodnight Robicheaux#Ellison Oswalt#King Aurvandill War-Raven#James Sandin#Russell Millings#Sal Procida#Travis Conrad#Ernst Toller#Paul#In A Valley Of Violence#James Costa#Chet Baker#John Brown#Tucker Crowe#Everett Lewis#Lars Nystrom#The Black Phone#Moon Knight#Daybreakers#Reality Bites#The Magnificent Seven#Sinister#The Northman#The Purge#Adopt a Highway
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Francis made an emergency trip back home.
Bonnefoy residence, c. 2013
transcript:
F: I just can’t believe this. Can you three not handle an ounce of fucking responsibility?! All I fucking do is break my back to provide for the three of you! And you repay me by bringing drugs, boys and GUNS under my roof?! And YOU! Vladimir Percy Bonnefoy! God, I’ve never been more disappointed in my life. May the Lord have mercy on your soul if I EVER find another gun in my house!
F: Car keys. Now.
V: What? No. No, please, you can’t take my car.
F: Now!
V: No! I need my car! What the fuck did you expect me to do? You’re never here, I have to protect us! Do you even know what I do while you’re fucking gone? I’m the one making doctor’s appointments and cooking us dinner every night, not you!
F: Not anymore! Keys, espèce de jeune homme insolent et irrespectueux!
V: No, please! Please, anything but my car, ple—
F: NOW!!!
V: *sniffles*
F: Ce sera beaucoup plus facile pour toi si tu fais ce que je demande!
F: Putain de dégagez de ma vue, vous trois!
-
F: *huffs* Putain de merde.
#translations:#“you insolent and disrespectful young man”#“it will be much easier for you if you just do what i say”#“fucking get out of my sight all three of you”#“fucking shit”#i am NOT a native french speaker lmk if i fucked up baddd#story#ts3#simblr#s3 simblr#sims 3#sims 3 simblr#ts3 simblr#pepper#vlad#maple
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just saw the anaheim ducks post about 19 days until opening night which is troy terry’s number and now i’m convinced that when it gets down to 11 they’re gonna post trevor and then announce his contract.
and maybe do the same for jim jam drysdale when it hits 6 days
(this is my way of coping and i hope that the contracts come sooner but pat verbeek is a dirty little rat with no bitches and i see him doing this)
ANYWHORE
this is definitely going to happen and i didn’t just pull this out of my ass
another ounce of hope: last year jason robertson didn’t sign his contract til october 6th and the first stars game was the 13th!
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(via Bob Menendez Officially Most Corrupt Senator, Aye, Fugheddaboutit.)
Deeply, deeply comic levels of corruption.
These are 1 Kilo Gold bars, 24k
1 kilo = 32.15 troy ounces
at current gold each bar is worth about $62,000
This guy needs to RESIGN NOW.
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