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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 12.

Summary: Reuniting with Venetia was always an interesting experience. Many people - everyone else who lives at Saltburn included - wonder why you put up with the way she speaks to you, the way she treats you. You wonder how they can't see that it's so much more than that.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, implied pseudo-incest, nonsexual intimacy with Venetia but no smut

A/N: 3644 words. i know i said there's be ollie this chapter, but i needed to set up a few more things around the house; specifically venetia and what her whole deal is with the reader. i love her, she breaks my entire heart. i know i should have edited this one but oh well, here, eat up friends.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Never once has Venetia been gentle with the way she speaks to you; she is sharp lines and bitter tongues and laughs and moans that edge on jagged. Nothing about her seems capable of regarding you, or sometimes even treating you, with gentleness, yet she demands it from you in everything you do.

She picks you apart the moment she sees you again, like nails over every inch of your being she pries apart who you've become in her absence, but ends it all by telling you that you're still frustratingly attractive.

"Thought that would change."

"Do you think that every time?"

"Prepare for the worst and hope for the best," she sighs with a wry smile.

"My potential descent into unattractiveness is... hope?"

"Preparing, obviously; I'm very fond of you, I don't hope you get ugly," obviously, says her eye roll. Its a compliment, says her eye roll.

Still, you know Venetia well enough, know her bitter tongue belies a sweetness she could never speak out loud.

All you'd come down in is your bathers, and an old, large button down that Felix liked to swan around the house in. Which Venetia insists you leave on, lest you get yourself burnt, though you roll your eyes and shrug it off anyways, draping it over the parasol-protected banana lounge that Venetia had claimed with her towel. Venetia herself looks like something out of countless fantasies, and even more Summer magazine centre folds, the sequins of her silver bikini shining in the sunlight.

Venetia is a shiny, pretty thing, eye catching; large sunglasses and shiny lip gloss and a body that glows and shines with what you hope is sunscreen but know is just moisturiser and tanning oil. Untouched by anything but the sun and herself on this searing afternoon, wanting and waiting for her entertainment, for you.

Venetia's gentleness lives and dies in her desires, in the way she wants. Her needs, her demands are always met, but her wants she'll never be able to put to words. So you learned to figure her out for yourself; if she loves you for it, she'll never say it out loud.

Wading into the water, towards the floating chair she's so elegantly draped herself across, you keep your hands above the water's surface, keep them dry as you reach her. With every step her smile grows wider, and you place your hand on her ankle, hand gliding up her warm leg in casual greeting. Calf, knee, thigh, soft and warm and dry, and your hand comes to rest on her belly, your fingers splayed out, cooler than her sun-soaked skin, and she giggles. The anticipation makes her giddy. Her hand comes to rest on yours, though never to take your hand; she wants to be touched more than she wants to hold, that's why when she shifts carefully on her buoyant seat, she makes sure that it's not so drastic that you'd have to move your hand from her skin.

"You kept me waiting," already there's a hint of faux disapproval on her tongue when she greets you properly, or as properly as you were going to get from her. Instead of dignifying that with a real response, you roll your eyes, and lean in to kiss her on the cheek. Giving a huff at your non-answer, she does however take your face in her free hand before you can pull away, giving you a kiss on the cheek in response.

"Hello to you too, Ven," you half laugh, but she's still holding your face, holding you close, for longer than was necessary. Letting you go, she lifts her glasses with that same hand to finally get a proper look at you. A strange, accusatory glimmer there amongst the mirth and mischief.

"I thought you kept me waiting because you were freshening up," it almost sounds betrayed, settling the glasses on top of her head. How could she have known that kind of thing? Why would she care if you hadn't?

"Didn't think it would matter; I was getting in the pool anyways," you pointed out as nonchalantly as possible, but she just reiterated that you'd kept her waiting, like it was the end of the world. Something about her suddenly intrigued gaze had you growing flustered, wondering what it was about you that had her so incensed.

In the next instance, she's slid from her seat and into the water beside you without hesitation. There's now something determined in her eyes when she takes your face in both hands, kissing you. Venetia has always been direct, has always taken for granted that you'd bend to her whims in most instances. Like this one. Your arms wind around her as if on instinct. There's nothing sweet about it, nipping at your lips insistently, tongue in your mouth -

"Oh my god," she pulls back, eyes wide with what you're pretty sure is disbelief, like she's come to an urgent realisation.

"It's so good to be home; how have you been lately?" You ask breathlessly, deeply confused about her attitude and trying to give her a hint that even for her this is a strange greeting. But then her lips are on yours again, pulling you in, all teeth and tongues and gasping furiously into your mouth. Somewhere in all of this, you pull her close, hands beneath her thighs and letting her wrap her legs around you under the water.

"It hasn't even been an hour!" She cries this time when she pulls back from you, looking almost like she's on the verge of laughter or perhaps screaming, "wash your mouth out! What is wrong with you?" Despite the fact that she'd just given you the kind of kiss that would put Hollywood to shame. Twice.

"Not drinking chlorine for you, Ven," you tell her, amused, while still holding her secure against you. Displeased with your answer, she pushes away from your chest with both hands, and you let her go, let her splash you as she makes a face.

"Don't drink it, christ," she rolls her eyes, as if she believes you're being wilfully stupid about the whole thing.

"Then I'll just taste like chlorine," you pointed out, wading over to her. The answering smile you get is particularly mean.

"I'd rather you taste like chlorine than Felix," despite all the questions and implications her disdainful words raise, you match her energy, smiling back with a blithe confidence as you approach her once more.

"You sure you mean that, Vennie?"

Immediately, Venetia is scarlet, spluttering, playing exceptionally well at being horrified by your implications, if not for the ease with which she lets herself get wrapped up in you once more.

"You're gross, you're awfully gross, you both are. I can't believe -" she tells you, looks in your eyes like she's determined to make you believe it, "I'll wash your mouth out myself," she threatens, and you nod while not trying particularly hard to hide your amusement. With a childlike scowl she dips herself mostly underwater, still encircled loosely by your arms, scowling at you all the while. Like a little, blonde crocodile, nose and eyes making sure you're watching her every move, taking her and her threat seriously.

When she surfaces, cheeks puffed out and presumably filled with water, you have to let her go for how hard your laughing. Then the chase is on.

The first mouthful of water she loses to her own laughter, and shouting at you to stop trying to get away, while you thrash through the length of the pool. Every so often she almost catches you, but you splash her and wriggle free and she shrieks with faux offense. Until she's got you pinned to the side of the pool, water just up past your waist, and a devilish look of triumph in her eyes.

At first she taps her lips expectantly. Of course her mouth is once again full to bursting with pool water. Shaking your head adamantly, you try and lean away, still faintly laughing, but Venetia changes tact.

Instead of caging you against the side, she carefully wraps her arms around your neck, gaze turning soft and fond and amused as she leans in. You know what she's doing, but you let her have it this time.

Winding your arms around her waist, you let her shotgun a mouthful of pool water into your mouth, and try not to laugh to keep it from going down your airways or up your nose. Venetia, in triumph, the moment she knows the water is in your mouth, she pulls back and clamps her hand over your mouth, looking altogether too proud of herself.

Drenched, beautiful, and grinning from ear to ear, the look in her eyes betrays just how into you, or at the very least into this moment, she is.

"Wash your mouth out before you come anywhere near me next time," she orders in a firm whisper that's definitely doing more for you than you'd like to admit. Possibly for Venetia too, considering how she's unable to wipe the smile off of her own face, "you filthy, little doggie."

No-one, maybe not even Felix, is ever allowed to find out how quickly those words have you all but melting at her command. The fight drains from you, and God all you want is to be good, good, good. Judging by Venetia's pleased reaction, she can feel the moment you start to submit, can probably see it in your eyes. Her hand stays over your mouth until she's satisfied you've swished the water around enough, and you spit the water back out to the side, instead of at her like you'd been intending to before she'd called you out.

"Can't believe you said that to me, really, Y/N," she sighed, shaking her head. Neither of you moved; you flush against the side of the pool, and Venetia pressed flush to you.

"So you're the only one who can say things in the hopes of getting manhandled?" Giving a sheepish grin, even if you don't fully believe what you're saying, there's a semblance of self-satisfaction when Venetia gives in. She grabs your chin and pulls you in for one more rough kiss, pressing against you, trapping you in this moment. A rare instance in which she gives you what she thinks you want.

But some of your bite is coming back.

"So does the chlorine taste better?" You smirked. Immediately she splashes you with a wave of water to the face. By the time you've spluttered through a recovery, she's halfway to the stairs.

"I hate you," is not a real answer to the question, but that's okay, you weren't really looking for one as much as you had been looking to rile her up, "and you've made me all wet - shut it -" she warns, cutting off the crude joke you both knew you were about to make, as she starts up the pool stairs with determination, "and you've ruined my beautiful afternoon plans."

Waiting at the top of the stairs, she turns back to you, simply watching her with a grin, giving you an impatient gesture. Your smile widens, but still, you obligingly follow her.

Even while mad at you, Venetia was a creature of predictable desires. Very rarely did her frustration with you outweigh the benefit of your company to her, and now was no different. Drying yourselves off with her towel, the only one either of you had brought down, it seems her mood is already lightening once more, letting you know that she'd gotten her hands on the latest Harry Potter novel. When she pulls the book out from where she'd stashed it under the long lounge, she picks up Felix's shirt and tosses it to you.

You know to put it on, just like you know not to comment on it.

Without asking, nor having to be asked, you settle yourself on the lounge chair and insistently pat the space beside you; almost enough for Venetia.

"Let me read over your shoulder," an incredibly flimsy excuse that you both see through, but she still settles herself on the lounge chair too. There's not quite enough room, so you're almost on your side, arm around Venetia's shoulders, head resting against hers, pressed up against her whole side. Legs curled up together, your other hand once more comes to rest on her lower belly, casually intimate, warm, tips of your fingers just barely tucked into her bikini bottoms. You're not reading; your face pressed so close to her's is proof enough of that.

"Your eyelashes are tickling my cheek," in these moments she sounds so much younger than she is. The peel of laughter that rings out from her as you nuzzle your face further against her cheek, pointedly fluttering your eyelashes, it reminds you of the way she'd laugh at the sleepovers the two of you shared in the first few years of meeting each other.

And you settle back down, angling your face only slightly to keep your lashes from bothering her, and rub faint circles against the soft skin of her stomach with your thumb. Venetia opens her book, and finally relaxes.

It's been a long time since you'd seen Venetia fully relax around anyone who wasn't you. You wonder if anyone else has noticed, has wondered, has thought to figure out the how and why of the girl beside you. Contrary to popular belief, it's been a long time since Venetia's actually sought you out for sex. Constant lewd flirting and suggestive texts aside.

So much of Venetia's self worth was tied to being sexually attractive. Pretty and fashionable and fuckable. Needed biblically, carnally. Pick up, use, put down. There was such a thrill in being wanted that it took her too long to understand why she was hollow; don't let me go felt selfish for her to even think. But you'd learned to read through the things she leaves unsaid.

Sex she could get anywhere, but the touch-starved Venetia knew you understood the truth of what she wants. It's why she treated you like furniture, like she was entitled to your personal space.

You often find yourself wondering if Venetia only touches you in ways she wishes she could touch Felix. More casually than even now, and many still would consider their relationship too close. You are kind and loving and playful and a wonderful friend, but you are nothing of real substance to her; you are a warm body and the closest she can be to Felix half the time.

For anyone else it would be too hot for this kind of proximity, but never for Venetia. So you drown in the heat of her skin pressed against hers, and let yourself drift asleep in the peaceful afternoon.

It's a sleep so peaceful that you don't even properly wake when her soft chatter infects your hazy mind. Farleigh's voice drifts through your head and this haze -

"- no-one tells me anything," you can hear Venetia pouting without even opening your eyes. Her book must be closed because she's got a hand on your thigh, bringing your leg further over her.

"Of course they don't, you should have seen both of them earlier when I accidentally implied -"

"Careful, Farleigh," you yawned, carefully snuggling further against Venetia. The pair are quiet for a few long seconds, but your eyes remained closed.

"See what I mean?" Farleigh eventually breaks the rather tense silence with a wry, pointed comment.

"Can't believe you didn't tell me we were having a guest," Venetia sounds like she's sulking, but you just make a noncommittal hum in the back of your throat, "feeling possessive of our impending Mister Quick, are you, pet?" And you feel her fingers gentle on your cheek, taking your face in her hand and lifting you to look her in the eyes. Cracking your eyes open, you level a flat gaze at her. Also, you realise how long you must have been sleeping; it's sunset.

"Simply giving you space to form your own opinions of him, Ven," you told her, gaze sliding pointedly to Farleigh, who had splayed himself out on the opposing lounge chair. He stuck his tongue out at you.

"I'm a big girl, pet; I just want to know what you think, what I should expect."

God, the Catton siblings are phenomenal at playing innocent in a way that's completely and utterly unconvincing.

Venetia's still holding your face close, gaze sharp and demanding an answer. Maybe you should untangle yourself from her, from this conversation, but something about being around her always made you want to play along, even if out of spite.

"I think it doesn't matter what I say," you tell her softly, speaking with an honesty you don't often allow yourself around most of the Cattons, or even Farleigh, "nor do I think it matters what Farleigh says, no matter how cruel he is about Ollie," everything about your tone, your expression, the way your grip on her retracts as much as you're able, it comes as a surprise to her, and judging by your peripheries, Farleigh too, "you're going to want him, adore him; Oliver is unconventionally wonderful, and you are Venetia Catton."

"The actual fuck do you mean by that?" She pulls away, struggling to her feet with a scowl, and you relax fully into the spot she'd just abandoned. By this time you smile up at her, warm, adoring.

"I mean it is in your nature to love," it's not entirely a lie, but Venetia only sees the truth in it, the fondness. Her irritation softens, "I mean no opinion will ever matter above yours, and I know you, Ven; you're hardwired into your own brand of love at first sight." It's an incredibly, meticulously diplomatic cover for your earlier, far harsher statement. Farleigh's watching you like you're a magician before his very eyes; Venetia, thankfully, doesn't look at him.

Sitting back down gingerly on the edge of the lounge, she gives into your sweet words when you softly tell her you love her. She doesn't say it back - she never will - but she kisses you on the forehead before standing again.

"Almost thought you were being a bitch again," she tells you loftily, wrapping her towel around her waist like a skirt, cocking her hip, "and I've about had it up to here with you and your -"

"Yapping?" You supplied, playing up the canine allegations just to see the way she fails the hide the quirk of her lips, the dead give away that she's desperate to smile.

"Yapping, exactly." And she turns swiftly on her heel, trying her best to storm away. When you call out that you'll see her at dinner, she flips you off. If you look to Farleigh, you think you might be able to see the cogs turning in his mind. Slowly, his mouth opens, then there's a distinct look in his eyes that says he thinks better about whatever he was going to say, and he closes it once more.

"Spit it out."

"I actually don't think I will," at least he admits it, "I think I'm in awe of your way with words and I'm gonna keep the rest to myself," he looks out at the pool, at the grounds beyond it, tucking his hands behind his head.

"Farleigh -"

"No," he says firmer, and looks at you, but his expression isn't harsh, "I think you're right; I think we should have our own opinions, and I don't want mine to get in the way of our friendship," surprisingly, he sounds very genuinely sincere; it hits the centre of your chest, and you take a moment to consider his words. "Oliver Quick," still the barest bit of disdain, but he's clearly trying, "is someone you and my cousin clearly care about; end. Of. Sentence." It does look like it pains him to say, but you're grateful nonetheless.

For a very long time, the two of you lay in comfortable silence, side by side, as the sun turn the world gold-red-lilac-blue around you. Just as you feel like you should go and get dressed for supper, you can't help but try again.

"Come on, what were you going to say -?" You don't even finish the teasing question before Farleigh blurts out -

"Just how good was Oliver's dick for you to actually be this possessive of him before he even gets here?"

And the question makes you absolutely burst out laughing, a sound which Farleigh thankfully echoes. The cathartic release is greatly welcomed as you both stand. Wrapping your arm around Farleigh's waist as the two of you head back, but he's still waiting for the answer he knows you're not nearly too shy to give.

"I'm not possessive," you justify immediately, though Farleigh's snort gives away that he doesn't even begin to believe you, "but you can never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever tell Venetia -"

"That good?" Farleigh sounds incredibly sceptical, but you go quiet; you wonder if he can tell how smug you're being right now. Clearly, after a moment of silence, the disbelief in his voice gives him away; "seriously; that good?" You make an affirmative noise in the back of your throat, "okay," Farleigh actually sounds a little impressed, "Felix's jealousy makes a little more sense; I assume he knows?"

"Of course he knows," you shake your head dismissively, "and he's not jealous," anymore, you leave off the end.

"Am I jealous of you?" Farleigh murmurs, mostly as a joke, but knowing him there's at least part of him considering it, "who would have guessed; Oliver Quick."

For the first time when Farleigh says his name, there's only intrigue on his tongue.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #venetia catton x reader #venetia catton imagine #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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renthony · 3 months

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From the article:

Human fear of sharks has deep roots. Written works and art from the ancient world contain references to sharks preying on sailors as early as the eighth century B.C.E. Relayed back to land, stories about shark encounters have been embellished and amplified. Together with the fact that from time to time – very rarely – sharks bite humans, people have been primed for centuries to imagine terrifying situations at sea. In 1974, Peter Benchley’s bestselling novel “Jaws” fanned this fear into a wildfire that spread around the world. The book sold more than 5 million copies in the U.S. within a year and was quickly followed by Steven Spielberg’s 1975 movie, which became the highest-grossing film in history at that time. Virtually all audiences embraced the idea, depicted vividly in the movie and its sequels, that sharks were malevolent, vindictive creatures that prowled coastal waters seeking to feed on unsuspecting bathers. But “Jaws” also spawned widespread interest in better understanding sharks. Previously, shark research had largely been the esoteric domain of a handful of academic specialists. Thanks to interest sparked by “Jaws,” we now know that there are many more kinds of sharks than scientists were aware of in 1974, and that sharks do more interesting things than researchers ever anticipated. Benchley himself became an avid spokesman for shark protection and marine conservation.

#saving this one to whip out next time someone brings up Jaws to derail a conversation about censorship #sharks #jaws #sea critters

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paul-cezanne-paintings · 1 month

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-Large Bathers-

#art #art history #artwork #culture #history #museum #museums #painting #paul cezanne #vintage

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windsymphony · 1 day

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Picasso - Large Bather With A Book

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peashooter85 · 2 years

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Bathing during the Middle Ages (yes people did bathe regularly during the middle ages)

Medieval people were filthy dirty stinky people who didn't bathe. At least that's would the modern film industry has led people to believe. However this is far from the truth as Medieval people, like people today, did not enjoy being stinky and dirty. While people in the Middle Ages may not have the same standards of cleanliness as we do today as they lacked modern technologies such as running water with hot water heaters and showers, they still wanted to be clean. Well there were many towns and cities with plumbing and running water in the Middle Ages but not anywhere near on par with modern water technology (a post I shall do in the future). Regardless, bodily hygiene was important to stay comfortable, not get infested with lice, and prevent disease (while they didn't have any notion of germ theory, people did have a basic understanding that filth can cause disease).

For people who lacked running water, which would have been most people, the most common way to stay clean was by simple "sponge bathing" using a basin of water or wooden tub. This was done on a daily basis, often twice a day if you worked in a trade that would cause you to get dirty, such as a farm laborer. In addition, etiquette required that people wash their hands and face before meals.

When it came to having a real bath, any local water source such as a river, lake, or pond might do but one had to be careful as such water sources could be contaminated. A good, proper hot water bath was typically done around once a week. If you were a noble most likely you would have your own private bath with servants to draw up hot water and attend your every need. For everyone else you had two options; the public bathhouses and the charity bathhouses. Public bathhouses were for profit businesses. They could be old Roman baths that were still in operation or perhaps restored into operation with heated pools, they could be newly built buildings constructed for that purpose with heated pools, they could be simple buildings with small individual tubs, and in small towns and villages they could be something as simple as a set of large tents by a river. For Medieval peoples bathing at a public bathhouse was more than just an act of hygiene, it was a social event where one went to catch up on the latest gossip, play games, and socialize with the community.

Public baths also offered more services than just hot water, soap, and a tub, but would also serve beverages, food, possibly even entertainment. It was not uncommon for bakers to contract with the bathhouses, using the furnaces which heated bathwater to also bake yummy treats to sell to the bathers. In the late Middle Ages prostitution also became common in the public baths, and while illegal, bathhouses owners often skirted the rules, resulting in a reputation of bathhouses being houses of sin and debauchery.

BTW, soap did exist then, originally brought to Europe from Asia. It was mentioned in the Roman Empire in the 2nd century, and by the 6th century guilds were established in Italy for soap producers. By 9th-10th century soap was all over Europe. The most popular soaps were from Spain and Italy, especially Castile soap. Soap is easy to make and the materials were very common at the time, so if you couldn't afford it, often it could be made at home. Seriously soap is really easy to make, I did it back in 7th grade science class. There are numerous recipes online. In addition to soap, various herbs and spices could be used to ad fragrance to water and bathing oils. If you didn't have soap, for everyday use wood ash could be used to wash hands of heavy duty grease, as demonstrated by Modern History TV.

youtube

Charity bathhouses were often operated by the Church and were attached to monasteries or the local church building. While they served the monks or nuns of a monastery, they were open to the public free of charge so that even the poorest had the ability to bathe and keep clean. Church run bathhouses lacked the amenities of public bathhouses, but had everything needed to get the job done. In addition, church bathhouses were segregated by sex so that people would not, you know...

The Church also tended to operate baths at pilgrimage sites, since after traveling many miles, probably on foot unless you were a noble, across a dusty or muddy highway, you will probably need a good bath.

In the late Middle Ages into the 16th century bathing declined for a few reasons. First, medical theory began to shift claiming that bathing was bad for health, causing the skin's pores to open which let in disease. Second, remember when I mentioned the prostitutes? By the 16th century many public bathhouses had essentially become full blown brothels, resulting in respectable people avoiding them and many towns and cities banning them outright. Finally, after the Great Plague the populations of towns and cities began to skyrocket to the point that in the 16th century municipal sewage and water systems were over-stressed. This resulted in local water supplies becoming contaminated, and as a result fresh water became a precious commodity. Instead of bathing, people found water free ways to bathe such as smoke baths, sweat baths, and frequent changing of undergarments. Bathing wouldn't come back into popularity until the 18th century and especially the 19th century with the development of modern plumbing.

youtube

#history #middle ages #medieval history #baths #bathing #hygiene #Youtube

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vivelareine · 11 months

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The plan for Madame du Barry's apartments in 1770. Note that she had both a chaise room (for toilet facilities) and a bain/bathroom for bathing. Du Barry's bathroom had running plumbing, a feature which Louis XV, who was known for being very strict when approving plumbing construction for bathrooms, denied to his own daughters before approving for his mistress.

Courtiers who lived at Versailles who had the space for dedicated bathrooms (which at the time were for bathing only, as bathrooms were meant to be luxury spaces, not somewhere you'd put your commode!) had to apply to the king for the construction of running plumbing.

Under Louis XV, running plumbing appeals from courtiers were rejected on the basis that he only intended to approve this type of construction for royal apartments due to the expense--except in the case of his mistresse. And he didn't always approve such requests for members of the royal family (ie, his daughters).

Under Louis XVI, approval for plumbing was notably looser. We know that the apartments of Marie Antoinette, Louis XVI, Madame Elisabeth, the comte and comtesse de Provence, the three daughters of Louis XV (Mesdames); the comte and comtesse d'Artois; and select courtiers, including the queen's favorites, the princesse de Lamballe and duchesse de Polignac, and apartments reserved for certain ministers had running plumbing. (Although Marie Antoinette's Versailles apartments did not have running plumbing until 1788-1789, and it's unknown if she ever ended up using them.)

For residents, royal or otherwise, without running plumbing but who had large enough apartments to allot dedicated bathrooms, tub bathing would have been done with tubs that were brought into these rooms and filled by servants. This is how Marie Antoinette bathed when she took immersion baths:

Campan:

... a slipper bath was rolled into her room, and her bathers brought everything that was necessary for the bath. The Queen bathed in a large gown of English flannel buttoned down to the bottom; its sleeves throughout, as well as the collar, were lined with linen.

For residents of Versailles who didn't have enough rooms for a dedicated bathroom, tubs were rolled into their regular room(s) and filled by servants.

For servants who had tiny apartments that were basically just small rooms often big enough for a bed, a desk and a drawer, they would have used wash basins for regular washing, as everyone (including aristocrats) did for daily hygiene.

Image: A well-to-do woman being washed by a servant using a wash basin.

I don't think it would have been impossible for some servants to have had standing rolling tubs that they might have split among others, as people of modest means outside of Versailles would have done. But since documentation of 'lower servant' life at Versailles is limited, it's hard to say. They could have also gone to nearby rivers or lakes to bathe if they wanted full immersion baths. Louis XIV was known for bathing in rivers, especially after the hunt.

People, particularly aristocratic women who could afford specialized pieces like this, would have also used bidets to regularly clean their private parts.

Oops I just meant to add the note about Du Barry getting running plumbing when Louis XV rejected his own daughters' requests for running plumbing, but have this other information too.

I am slowly working on a proper article about the myriad of popular culture myths about Versailles and hygiene, hopefully I will be able to sit down and force myself to finish it soon. Working on this particular article has definitely forced me to re-evaluate the general lack of solid historiography on the subject, even from historians that ought to be trusted to analyze and vet sources more seriously.

#versailles #french history #18th century #madame du barry #louis xvi by comparison was like #you get plumbing! you get plumbing! and you get plumbing!

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tokidokitokyo · 3 months

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群馬県

Japanese Prefectures: Kantō - Gunma

都道府県 (とどうふけん) - Prefectures of Japan

Learning the kanji and a little bit about each of Japan’s 47 prefectures!

Kanji・漢字

群　む(れる)、むら、グン　flock, group, crowd, herd, swarm, cluster

馬　うま、ま、バ　horse

県　ケン　prefecture

関東　かんとう　Kanto, region consisting of Tokyo and surrounding prefectures

Prefectural Capital (県庁所在地) : Maebashi (前橋市)

The ancient province of Gunma was a center of horse breeding and trading activities, and thus the character for horse is one of the kanji in the prefecture's name. The horse came to Japan along with the arrival of a large migration of people from the mainland of Asia, and from then on the horse became a vital part of the Japanese military and displaced the older Yayoi tradition of fighting on foot.

One of only eight land-locked prefectures in Japan, Gunma is also very mountainous. Snowy mountains that are prime for winter sports give way to excellent hiking trails in the summer. Gunma has some of the nation's best hot springs and is famous for its daruma dolls, which are good luck charms. Other sports to do in Gunma include canyoning, waterfall sliding, rafting, and bungee jumping.

Recommended Tourist Spot・おすすめ観光スポット Sainokawara Park - 西の河原公園

Sainokawara Park at night

Sainokawara Park is in a valley just outside of the hot spring and ski resort town center of Kusatsu, where several hot spring sources and a large outdoor bath are located. There are walking trails around the upper part of the park that lead through the magnificent natural landscapes. This is the most active hot spring area in Japan, with an output of hot spring water of 1,070 litres per minute. Hot spring water can be seen bubbling to the surface in certain places, where they collect into hot water pools and run down the valley in warm streams before joining the central mountain stream. There is also a hot water waterfall with a free foot bath at the base. The park area is accessible free of charge.

Due to the high temperature of the hot spring waters that flow here, very little can grow in the areas where it collects. It was believed that the spirits of children who died before their parents would be sent to these barren pools. You may come across small stone statues called jizo, that are made in the image of the guardian deity of children and travelers, Jizo Bosatsu. These statues often are wearing red hats and bibs, and are meant to protect the spirits of the children from demons.

The natural pools in the park are not for bathing, but the park also houses the Sainokawara Rotenburo, a large open-air public bath with two gender-separated outdoor hot springs, with a capacity of 100 bathers each. The outdoor bath also offers an evening of mixed bathing every Friday, when the bath is open to everyone, including couples and families.

Yubatake, or Hot Water Field, in Kusatsu

A 10-minute walk from Sainokawara Park is the Yubatake (or "Hot Water Field"). Here in the center of Kusatsu is a field of pumps that removes 32,300 litres of hot water every minute, cools it a few degrees, then sends it off to various local hot springs. The healing waters of the Kusatsu Onsen (hot springs) vary from milky to clear, and sulfurous to acidic, and are said to soothe most of your troubles, except a broken heart.

Regional Cuisine - 郷土料理 Yakimanju - 焼きまんじゅう

Yakimanju (source)

Yakimanju is a popular snack in Gunma Prefecture, but is not well known outside of the prefecture. Yakimanju is a grilled sweet bun. Manju are sweet buns made of rice or wheat flour and commonly are steamed. Yakimanju is grilled after being steamed, giving the outside a crunchy texture rather than the usual fluffy texture. The outside is coated with a sweet mixture of brown sugar, syrup, and miso paste. Unlike manju, which usually has a filling of red bean or other sweet paste, yakimanju typically has no filling.

Yakimanju was invented at the end of the Edo period, about 150 years ago. Wheat was commonly grown in agricultural Gunma, and thus wheat flour was originally used to make the predecessor of yakimanju, called sakamanju. Sakamanju hardened quickly after being made, and so to make it easier to eat, people would grill it and season it with miso paste. And thus yakimanju was developed.

Gunma Dialect・Gunma-ben・群馬弁

1. あーね　aa-ne　oh really?, I see, etc. (aizuchi*)

「あーね」 (aa-ne)

Standard Japanese: 「そうなんだ」 (sou nan da)

English: "Oh, really?"

Note: If you use it too much, the other person will get irritated

*aizuchi (相槌): backchanneling, interjections during conversations that show you are paying attention

2. ～がね、～がん　～ga ne, ～gan　isn't it, don't you think, right (ends a sentence)

「宿題やるって言ったがね！」 (shukudai yaru tte itta ga ne!)

Standard Japanese: 「宿題やるって言ったじゃん！」 (shukudai yaru tte itta jan!)

English: "I said do you do your homework didn't I!"

3. じゅーく　juu-ku　impertinent

「じゅーくこくな！」 (juu-ku koku na!)

Standard Japanese: 「生意気なことを言うな！」 (namaiki na koto o iu na!)

English: "Don't be cheeky!"

4. 世話ねえ　sewa nee　"no problem" or "too much of a bother"

「世話ねえ」 (sewa nee)

Standard Japanese: 「問題ない」　(mondai nai) OR　「手に負えない」　(te ni oenai)

English: "No problem" OR "That's too much of a bother"

5. ～だんべえ　～danbee　right, isn't it, etc. (sentence ending)

A: 「焼きまんじゅうって美味しいね。」 (yakimanju tte oishii ne) B: 「そうだんべえ。」 (sou danbee)

Standard Japanese: A: 「焼きまんじゅうって美味しいね。」　 (yakimanju tte oishii ne) B: 「そうだろ。」　 (sou daro)

English: A: "Yakimanju is delicious, isn't it?" B: "That's right"

6. てんで　tende　very

うちの孫は、てんでかわいいよ～ (uchi no mago wa, tende kawaii yo～)

Standard Japanese: うちの孫、とてもかわいいよ～ (uchi no mago, totemo kawaii yo～)

English: Our grandson is so cute!

More Gunma dialect here (Japanese page)

#japanese prefectures #日本語 #japanese #japanese language #japanese langblr #langblr #studyblr #都道府県 #群馬県 #gunma

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ratatoskryggdrasil · 9 months

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William Horace Littlefield, Bathers (Yellow Bathing Trunks, Large Version), 1951

#William Horace Littlefield #bathers #painting

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kenney-mencher · 6 months

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Large Bather Bear, 12x16 inches oil on canvas panel by Kenney Mencher

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mybeingthere · 8 months

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Neil Welliver (American, 1929-2005) is best known for his large-scale, vivid paintings and woodcuts of the remote Maine wilderness. Born in the small town of Millville, Pennsylvania, he first studied at the Philadelphia College of Art (1953), followed by Yale (1955), where Josef Albers and Burgoyne Diller were among his teachers. Their influence, as well as the rising popularity of Abstract Expressionism, is evident from Welliver’s early experimentations in abstraction, which include elements of color field painting, as well as the color theory of Albers, and the flattened, “allover” space of Pollock and de Kooning.

Welliver would go on to teach at Yale from the mid-1950s to the mid-1960s, by which time he had moved formally towards the representational, beginning to paint the landscape of Maine. In the late 1960s and early 70s he also produced scenes of nude bathers in streams, their bodies abstracted by the moving water. While continuing to work as the chair of the University of Pennsylvania graduate school (1966-1989), he moved permanently to Lincolnville, Maine, in 1970. Welliver lost his studio, home, and much of his work to a fire in 1975. The following year, his second wife and infant daughter died. Further tragedy came with the death of his college aged son in 1991. His artistic practice remained the mode through which he survived these hardships.

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thecactifindahome · 16 days

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I've devised a humane way to get out of the bath, a challenge man has struggled with since he discovered hot water.

The bather will tug a rope hanging down to near the water level. The ceiling will open to allow the descent of a large cylindrical apparatus, the inside of which is a sort of womb of heated towels. Mechanical arms will swiftly but delicately scoop the bather from the water into the apparatus, minimizing their exposure to the cruelty of cold air. Once inside, the machine will gently tumble dry the occupant until they are dry and prepared to endure the world.

#this post was brought to you by the twenty minutes it took me to leave my 2am bath #starting to think i might be sick rather than just having a bad day for allergies #it makes sense that i would just be sick the entire month of April #thirty years ago that was when my sister emerged to bring woe and pestilence to mankind

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alatar-and-pallando · 6 months

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I unlocked some more Deep Friend Lore the other day. This tale comes from Greg, a middle-aged guy who's in one of our D&D groups. As I was telling him about my friend Dan's summer selling ice cream for the mafia, Greg brought up the Yakuza and started recounting a story about his time as a Mormom missionary in Japan. (He’s no longer a believer.) He rambled a bit in the telling, but we learned:

He was there with a whole group of other missionaries, all grouped in pairs but reporting to a single guy locally.

There was one pair there who was just trouble -- between the two of them, they did a lot of shoplifting luxury goods (because local shopkeeps tended to display their wares outside and it was very easy to just walk off with them) and one of them knocked a girl up.

They lived in an apartment complex in an area with a fairly large Yakuza presence. The apartment didn’t have a shower or bath, so they went to the local bathhouse, where they’d sometimes run into Yakuza. They’re easily recognizable because of their tattoos and, well, one other distinctive feature, which we’ll get to shortly.

High-up Yakuza are unfailingly polite, Greg reports. But the lower-level guys, they’re aggressive, they like to posture.

In Japan, there’s a stereotype about Americans having big dicks. In the bathhouse, where bathers are nude, these low-level Yakuza saw these Americans as a challenge.

They’d swagger up to Greg, dicks swinging, and challenge him to a literal dick-measuring contest, and ask, “But can Americans offer the girls this?”

There’s a tradition among Yakuza of “pearling,” which involves embedding surgical steel or silicone balls under the skin of the penis (for her pleasure, etc.) -- thus named because in the old days, the implanted objects would be actual pearls.

At this point, I notice that Greg's college-aged son Austin, who's sitting there at the table with us, has turned absolutely crimson and is hiding his face in his hands. He's never heard this story before and will never unhear it.

“Sometimes," Greg says, "I’d be sitting there with my eyes closed, and I’d feel a presence in front of me and just dread opening my eyes because I knew there’d be a dick there.”

Anyway, one of the bad-boy missionaries was a favorite target of theirs. But this guy didn’t react the smart way, by simply refusing to be goaded or intimidated. No, he’d posture right back.

Between this and his habit of shoplifting, eventually, the yakuza mooks informed him that they were going to kill him.

The missionary freaks out and calls up his superior, fudging the truth about the circumstances. The superior immediately starts calling around to all the missionaries in the area and assembles a team of the biggest ones to protect the idiot.

One of these guys is an unusually tall and beefy Hawaiian, the son of a former world bodybuilding champion.

So this bunch of Mormon missionaries pulls up in a van as the yakuza are assembling outside the apartment building.

The Hawaiian guy goes right up to the ringleader of the threatening yakuza and picks him up by the throat and tells him never to mess with Stupid Missionary again. Greg swears the ringleader pissed himself.

Anyway, the bad-boy missionaries eventually got sent home in disgrace, not because of the Yakuza thing or the knocking someone up thing but because of all the stealing. Their superior searched their luggage before letting them head to the airport and discovered that between the two of them, they’d packed seven expensive leather jackets.

#japan #mormonism cw #tho to be clear he's extremely EX mormon now #stories #yakuza #my posts

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wishywashypunmpkinsauce · 2 years

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The Berry Nice Beachday

Summary: The young ancients arrive in the Hollyberry Kingdom for a beach day!

Type: Fluff

(Excuse any spelling errors)

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The glorious morning sun beamed over the secluded Hollyberry kingdom. Its bright rays shone through the curtains of the forest’s dense thickets and into the windows of the last sleeping cookies. The majority of the kingdom has well and truly risen much before the sun, seeming to find it best to begin their days early to get more done. This is most likely why the Hollybery kingdom had the most export and supplies of all kingdoms. Added it was a chipper kingdom with vast resources, loving, caring, and hard-working cookies as well as a Queen who served them with as much love as they served her.

Currently, the final carriage arrived in the blessed jungle kingdom. Pure Vanilla cautiously found his footing as he stepped down from the carriage, thanking the driver as a few Hollyberrian guards moved the driver and steed to a different area. The young vanillian king turned, fixing his hat, and made his way into the main grounds of the monumental-sized castle. There were no large steeples or multi-colored sugar glass panes, no quiet mummer of calm voices as one wafting through the air. But maybe that’s why Pure Vanilla likes being at the Hollyberry kingdom so much, because it was so obscure to his own ruling that he found so much joy in exploring this unique kingdom. He looked up upon the large, pink-domed building, listening to the loud calls of Hollyberriens, and the soft drowning of babbling brooks. The study breeze that swayed his neatened bangs.

____________________

“My dear beloveds, I am thrilled you could all arrive!”

The pink-haired queen marched into to open-air, summer ballroom. Making her presence well known as her shoes hit the cool white tiles. Smiling giddily as she hurried to greet the others. She wore pink bathers with white and yellow accents adorning the edges, showing off her strong, sturdy figure. A silky purple, transparent shawl lay over her shoulders. A wide-brimmed, pie-lined hat, fastened with a pink ribbon on her head. Her taffy-coloured hair was in a beautiful braid that reached the middle of her back, leaves, and ribbons decorating the creases. In her arms, was an 8-month-old RoyalBerry. The child already had a full head of silky pink hair which curled out from under his hat. Chubby arms waved about eagerly as he batted about a dragon stuffy. The child wore a pink and white stripy swimsuit which was a size bigger than him, but adorable none of the less. His wide babbling smile squished his cheeks and made him squint with joy. He let out more baby gurgles before mindlessly hiding his face in his mother’s brawn.

The four arriving ancients hurried to hug the plus-sized woman, once reaching the mid-point the 5 mushed together in a tight grasp. Letting out a string of greetings as soft kisses were given to the pink queen. Then finally, all attention was on the most important child ever to bless their lives. Little baby RoyalBerry, the pride of the Hollyberry kingdom, the firstborn son to the beautiful Hollyberry, and the cutest little baby to ever be born. The pink-haired babe gurgled with joy as he was passed from ancient to ancient, each giving soft forehead kisses to the child.

Golden Cheese, White Lily, and Pure vanilla squabbled over who got to hold the sweet baby, Golden Cheese used her ability of flight to her advantage, pocking her tongue out to the duo below. Going on about how much smarter she was than the pair, that was before she got zapped in the ass and squawked in surprise and pain. White Lily chortled with laughter, casting another spell to snatch the pink-haired babe.

Dark Cacao made his way over to the pink-haired, resting a gloved hand on her shoulder.

“HollyBerry dear, how have you been fairing?” he asked, pulling the pinkette into another tight squeeze. In return she leaned her weight on the other, allowing the purple king to hold her in his arms. Her body thanked the king for the moment of relaxation. Having only just experienced 9 months of carrying her babe was a lot, but even after Royalberry’s birth, she was still on her feet. The pink queen wasn’t complaining though, it was her choice to bear a child, and this was just a part of the process. That’s not to say there were moments where she flat out would pass out from exhaustion.

“Oh I have been as well as I can get in times like these, a little tired, a little sore, but I will be fine” She smiled into his chest, moving her arms the sit just on his waist. Hollyberry moved away and started to lift the large metal crest that the man carried on his shoulders. Lifting the cape off of him to remove the weight and to try to cool him down. Being from the snowy planes of the northern ridges, Cacao didn’t do well in the Hollyberry kingdom’s hot humid heats. But even though he began to melt in the blistering summer rays, he still made time to visit Hollyberry no matter the season. His face was hot and bothered and Hollyberry could see the sweat roll down his forehead. She carfuly slipped away the layer of armour and fabric, the stoic king did not once resit. Normal he would protest on how he would rather die than remove such an important image, but the kings anger seemed dormant. Instead, he leaned into the surprisingly cold hands of the woman. Giving a slight smile once the weight and heat were removed from his body.

Hollyberry stopped once she removed his gloves, assuming this was enough to keep him cool until the Queen got him into some bathers. Because there was no way in witches, she was going to let him sit under an umbrella and not step a foot into the water. If she had to; she would throw him in! He thanked her as he pressed another kiss to her forehead and right on time, the other 3 ancients returned with the baby. Lily having won the battle of the babe, squishing his chubby cheeks lightly and booping his nose.

“All right you sweaty bastards, let’s get you lot into sometime cooler and go swimming!” The Queen struck a sassy pose, looking at the others with stars in her eyes. The group only jittered with excitement as they followed the other through the long halls of the Hollyberry palace. The group finally ended up in the Queen mothers bedroom. Hollyberry made her way over to the walk-in closet and disappeared while the others waited for her return. Golden cheese snatched RoyalBerry from White Lilys grasp and toppled over onto the huge, marshmallow-like bed. The young prince giggled loud in response.

Pure Vanilla leaped onto the bed, struggling a bit to fight the waves of blankets that fought him off. Eventually, he made it to where Golden Cheese and White Lily had been engulfed by the large, pink covers. RoyalBerry was gurgling slightly, drool running down his cheek as he gawked at the three olders. The blonde haired king moved the place a delicate hand on the babe, running soft circles into Royalberry’s back.

Cacao then appeared from the sea of red and gave a soft smile, running an exposed hand over the sheets and to the happy baby. Royalberry slapped the chocolate king’s hand a few times before latching on and drooling over them. Chewing on the calloused fingers with not a thought in the world. A soft smile appeared on the stoics kings face, a kind of face that yeared the love of this baby. “He’s still got the baby fever ay!” Golden cheese remarked as she sniggered under her breath. The chocolate king snapped his head towards the avian queen with a very unimpressed look on his face. The kind of look you gave to an idiot who told you Earthbread was actually in the shape of a cookie, just more dramatized. But in Dark Cacaos’ eyes, he was looking at an idiot so the reason behind the look was supported. “Oh shut your yapper you glittery penguin” He snapped jokingly, grasping the pink haired baby, and pulling him into his lap. Earning whines from the others to return the babe to the middle.

The group stayed on the bed until the queen reappeared from the depth of the closet, multiple pairs of bathers folded in her arms.

“Now I got these custom-made, so they keep you comfy but cool” The Queen started, making her way towards the bed, and sitting down beside Golden cheese. Giving the avian queen a peck on the head. The golden-haired snapped up and grabbed the set of bathers clearly meant for her. Leaping off the bed and changing right there. The other 3 happily scooched over (pure vanilla and white Lily having to fight their way out of the bed sheets again) the queen handed them their respected bathers before they too went to change.

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“Woo Petals! Looking mighty nice there” Golden Cheese squawked from where she was. White Lily in return, threw her staff directly at avian queens face, bonking her right in the nose.

“And these bathers are super comfy, I might as well trade up my clothes for these” The golden-haired complimented the berry queen, leaping up and pressing a tender kiss against the other woman’s temples.

Golden Cheese had a simple top and bottom. Quite similar to her usual clothing but made from a strange but extremely comfy and waterproof material only made in the Hollyberry kingdom. As no other kingdom really went swimming let alone on a daily basis. The top was white in colour but with teal accents adorning the ruffles and sleeves. The bottoms were yellow and white, pant/skirt-like things.

White Lily had a full-body suit with a skirt-like fabric over the pants. It was a stripy green and white outfit with sleeves that reach her elbows. White Lily was content with the bathers, finding them extremely comfy.

Pure Vanilla and Dark Cacao would have the same outfit if it weren't for the colour and a few minor things. Such as Pure Vanilla having a blue and white stripy set of baths

___________________________

The water was beautiful. Perfect temperature for a swim. Hollyberry raced down a side pier to a spot in the water she knew was deep and cannonballed in. She hit the bottom and felt around the sand before pushing her legs up and shooting up to the surface again. Splashing the group with water as she came up. They made it to the sandy shores where a picnic-like area had already been up. The berry queen hauled herself from the water, snorting some water out of her nose and sitting on the damper parts of the sand. Getting comfy under the suns bright rays. Pure Vanilla was the first to win the running race between him a golden cheese by some miraculous chance. Dark Cacao and White Lily came up behind the two as they squabbled. Dark Cacao still hot and bothered purfulously sweating but seemed better than he was before. White Lily was holding Royal Berry as the she quietly spoke in babble towards the baby. The two came down to sit under the shade of the umbrella.

The pinkette took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Royalberry’s first swim and I have this moment to share with my beloveds,” The queen thought happily. Taking pleasure from the warmth of the sun kissing her paled skin. She frowned at how pale she had gotten over the year, being away from the sun for some time did horrors to her skin tone. Her usually golden brown was somewhat more almond in colour, much paler than she liked. So today was a great day to regain her colours.

The queen was soon toppled out of her thoughts are three figures bombarded her. Dragging her into the water, laughing while doing so. She dived under the cool surface and escaped her offenders. Hollyberry surfaced, seeing Golden Cheese and White Lily in the middle of a water battle, poor pure Vanilla being caught right in the center with no means of defense. Hollyberry looked over to the beach again, Dark Cacao was under the shade, babe in hands. Completely smitten with the small creature.

The mother smiled warmly as she exited the water again and made it up towards the Cacao king. Curling up next to him as she stroked her son’s soft hair.

“You know Cacao, today will be Royalberry’s first time in the lagoon” She smiled warmly as she ran her other hand over Dark Cacao’s back before running her fingers through the onyx hair. The Cacaoin king turned his eyes down to the woman, a look of surprise present.

“Would you like to take him into the water Cacao?” She asked politely, playing with the strands of hair mindlessly. Watching over both her son on Dark Cacao with steady eyes.

“I would love to” He began nervously “but...” He trailed off, looking down into the water where the other three were still play fighting. Golden Cheese and White Lily now ganging up on Pure Vanilla as the blond struggled to dive to the safety under the water.

“But what?” Hollyberry asked, sitting up to face the other.

“What if I hurt him? What if I’m not careful and something happens to him!? What if-” Hollyberry pressed her finger to his lip which quietened the frantic king.

“But nothing, there is nothing you can do to hurt Royalberry, plus if you truly feel this scared, I will be right by your side the entire time!” She gave a warm smile which seemed to calm Dark Cacao down.

“Are you sure you don’t want to” He asked, Holly berry only chuckled.

“Dark Cacao cookie, Royalberry has had a lot of firsts. I want you to be the one with him when he has his first swim.” She placed her hands on his, then Royalberry slapped his hands down as well. Gurgling lights, speaking to himself.

“But aaaaaaah” He started up again, stuttering as he tried to think of an excuse for why he would be the worst candidate for the job.

“Wouldn’t Golden Cheese want to have the honors?”

“Goli’s had her first, she got to have his first flight. Lily got to have his first crawl and nilla got his first laugh.” She rebutted with a smile.

“But if you don’t too, I can always make the others fight for the honor” She gave another cheeky grin, standing up and giving him a peck on the lips. That seemed to persuade the stoic king enough to make his way toward the water.

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Got a little lazy towards the end but eh, i hope you like it:)

Don’t use my work my work as your own, I will find you and destroy you.

Like/comment, reblog

Have a good day:)

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