#i wanted to start this yesterday

[burningvelvet]

On June 23rd, 1816, Percy Shelley and Lord Byron got a boat together and set out on a sailing trip around Lake Geneva while sightseeing and reading Rousseau’s famous novel Julie, which takes place there. Percy chronicles this in his and Mary’s joint publication (her first publication), History of a Six Weeks’ Tour. They don’t name-drop Byron for privacy, but call him their “companion.”

Day 1, June 23rd, 1816 —

Percy Shelley, History of a Six Weeks' Tour:

“It is nearly a fortnight since I have returned from Vevai. This journey has been on every account delightful, but most especially, because then I first knew the divine beauty of Rousseau's imagination, as it exhibits itself in Julie. It is inconceivable what an enchantment the scene itself lends to those delineations, from which its own most touching charm arises. But I will give you an abstract of our voyage, which lasted eight days, and if you have a map of Switzerland, you can follow me.

We left Montalegre at half past two on the 23d of June. The lake was calm, and after three hours of rowing we arrived at Hermance, a beautiful little village, containing a ruined tower, built, the villagers say, by Julius Cæsar. There were three other towers similar to it, which the Genevese destroyed for their own fortifications in 1560. We got into the tower by a kind of window. The walls are immensely solid, and the stone of which it is built so hard, that it yet retained the mark of chisels. The boatmen said, that this tower was once three times higher than it is now. There are two staircases in the thickness of the walls, one of which is entirely demolished, and the other half ruined, and only accessible by a ladder. The town itself, now an inconsiderable village inhabited by a few fishermen, was built by a Queen of Burgundy, and reduced to its present state by the inhabitants of Berne, who burnt and ravaged every thing they could find.

Leaving Hermance, we arrived at sunset at the village of Nerni. After looking at our lodgings, which were gloomy and dirty, we walked out by the side of the lake. It was beautiful to see the vast expanse of these purple and misty waters broken by the craggy islets near to its slant and ‘beached margin.’ There were many fish sporting in the lake, and multitudes were collected close to the rocks to catch the flies which inhabited them.

On returning to the village, we sat on a wall beside the lake, looking at some children who were playing at a game like ninepins. The children here appeared in an extraordinary way deformed and diseased. Most of them were crooked, and with enlarged throats; but one little boy had such exquisite grace in his mien and motions, as I never before saw equalled in a child. His countenance was beautiful for the expression with which it overflowed. There was a mixture of pride and gentleness in his eyes and lips, the indications of sensibility, which his education will probably pervert to misery or seduce to crime; but there was more of gentleness than of pride, and it seemed that the pride was tamed from its original wildness by the habitual exercise of milder feelings. My companion gave him a piece of money, which he took without speaking, with a sweet smile of easy thankfulness, and then with an unembarrassed air turned to his play. All this might scarcely be; but the imagination surely could not forbear to breathe into the most inanimate forms some likeness of its own visions, on such a serene and glowing evening, in this remote and romantic village, beside the calm lake that bore us hither.

On returning to our inn, we found that the servant had arranged our rooms, and deprived them of the greater portion of their former disconsolate appearance. They reminded my companion of Greece: it was five years, he said, since he had slept in such beds. The influence of the recollections excited by this circumstance on our conversation gradually faded, and I retired to rest with no unpleasant sensations, thinking of our journey tomorrow, and of the pleasure of recounting the little adventures of it when we return.”

UPDATE: I took my dates from Shelley, but his dates must have been confused and Byron's must be more accurate. Because I'd been confused by Byron's dates in the past, since he often wrote past midnight (thus often referring his prior day as "today"), I had assumed Shelley was more trustworthy. According to Shelley and His Circle vol. 4 pp. 700-701, they left on June 22nd which was a Saturday, and so I believe each day of their trip would be one earlier than I and Shelley stated in these posts.

Taken from Shelley and His Circle:

"TIMETABLE OF THE LAKE GENEVA TOUR

June 22, Saturday: Sailed from Montalègre, slept at Nernier.

June 23, Sunday: Sailed from Nernier, slept at Evian.

June 24, Monday: Sailed from Evian, encountered storm off Meillerie, slept at St. Gingolph.

June 25, Tuesday: Sailed from St. Gingolph, saw the mouths of the Rhone, visited Chillon Castle, landed at Clarens, visited bosquet de Julie, slept at Mme. Pauly's house (Place Gambetta) at Clarens.

June 26, Wednesday: Visited Le Châtelard, and the bosquet de Julie, sailed from Clarens, visited Vevey, slept at the Hotel de l'Ancre at Ouchy.

June 27, Thursday: Visited Gibbon's house at Lausanne, slept at Ouchy.

June 28, Friday: Remained at Ouchy.

June 29, Saturday: Sailed from Ouchy, slept at [?Rolle].

June 30, Sunday: Sailed from [?Rolle], arrived at Montalègre."

[triptych-of-voids]

quick draw and trigonometry

[dovewingkinnie]

anime girl gets transported into a post apocalyptic reality

[becca-e-barnes]

Sub Bucky and a breeding kink 💀 dead unlived it's one of my favourite things 😌

This is pretty high up there on my list of dream fantasies 🥵 these are two of my biggest weaknesses, don't even look at me rn

One of life's greatest joys is cuddling with the other person's head resting on your chest so you can play with their hair and rub their shoulders. I love that shit, having someone else's body weight on you is so comforting.

I imagine that's something Bucky would really enjoy too. It's so soft and sweet and tender and getting to feel cared for would really appeal to him.

But that's up until his hands work their way under your top, up over your bare skin so he's able to cup your breasts and bury his face between them while he's getting his hair played with. Life's pleasures don't get much simpler than that.

After a few moments he shifts slightly, tugging the neckline of your shirt out of the way to give himself space to kiss and nip your skin. All of a sudden he's desperate and it's beautiful to watch.

"Please." He whispers between frantic kisses, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak of your nipple before engulfing it with his warm, eager mouth.

"Please, what?" You tease, tugging on his hair just a little for emphasis.

He groans, frustrated by his own lack of coherence, pulling his mouth from your nipple. "Please let me put a baby in you."

That's not what you were expecting but fuck, he makes it sound pretty appealing.

"Bucky-" You begin but he cuts you off, giving your other nipple the same attention as he gave the first. God, that's distracting.

"You'd make. Such. A pretty. Mommy." He whispers, kissing his way down your body until he reaches the bottom seam of your top. From there, he pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor before removing the rest of your clothes.

"You'd look so pretty with a little baby bump." His huge hand rests on your bare tummy, imaging how your body would change.

"I want it, Buck." You mean it too. It doesn't sound like such a bad idea when he's taking his clothes off.

"I know you want it." He groans, rubbing the tip of his dick against your soaked core. "Y-you're so wet."

He presses his hips forward, sliding inside you and you can't explain it but you swear it feels different this time.

"Don't even think about pulling out." You cup his face in your hands, keeping his eyes on you and you almost worry he's going to fuck himself senseless into you. "I want you to make me a mommy. You're going to give me every single drop of cum and when it starts to drip out of me, you're going to fuck it back in."

His head falls onto your shoulder, sobbing a pathetic moan against your already hot skin. The pace of his thrusts matches his need, his hips slamming into yours and when he finally gives in, he cums inside you with your legs clamped around his waist, making sure he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.

[chalkrub]

made a little linocut for pixie <:^) miss her so much

[oatbugs]

last night i got home kind of tipsy and very much in tears and my mother told me the force you exert to keep someone in your life is proportional to the force with which they will leave your life. if you have to fight tooth and claw to keep them, their leaving will be just as hard, just as harsh, and just as definite.

[hellenhighwater]

the only--the ONLY!--thing I had on my to do list for today was work on any of the commissioned paintings that I need to get done. That was it!

So instead I've sculpted a bunch of clay leaves to make into a mobile, gave a kitten a bath, rearranged the sunroom and repotted a few plants, watered my tomatoes, got some eggs from the doves, read a book, did some laundry, made a book press, made a video about making a book press, bought a detail sander and halloween candy, taught Vice to do a double high five, accidentally melted my gardening gloves, went to the animal shelter, and forgot to eat for the entire day.

So I'm pleased to announce that all executives are functioning at 0% capacity, as per normal.

[butchfeygela]

ive said this for a few years now but football is the modern gladiator games. its a blood sport sold as the 'ticket outta here' for way too fucking many poor disenfranchised boys. if you can survive getting to the top, you can make the owners disgustingly rich get untold fame and riches.

and when their bodies break down and their CTE causes increased aggression (outside the approved violence of the game) theyre thrown aside as some sort of pariah or martyr and left with their riches quickly dwindling to the rest of their lifes medical costs.

its a blood sport, and unlike most of the other really brutal sports (im thinking rugby and like roller derby level contact sports) its one that makes the owners and advertisers richer than most of us could imagine combined

[wigglebox]

Hey there 💫 [x]

[mattodore]

theo’s bedroom is slowly coming together

[helsensm]

me: I think this art block is behind me now, I feel like drawing again

hormonal imbalance and self-deprecating thoughts: no you don't

aaaanyway, railao sketchbook doodles! ⚡🌸

[esprei]

Emmet month - Day 2: Family/friends

besties selfie tiiiiime 📸

[cornsarts]

Weirdos at Carnival

[cinnamon-phrog]

Rebog with a pic of your F/O [romantic, platonic, queerplatonic, familial etc, and maximum of two] And I'll assign them a Palm Pal!

[Pr*ship/c*mship DNI]

[kairennart]

Post-XXVII

For @blacksails-rarepairs

[expelliarmus]