Sex: *exists*

The Romantic Poets as people at my apartment complex

Blake: The old guy on the first floor who covers all his windows with newspaper and paints all his terra cotta pots bright red. He’s never spoken to me or anyone else, to my knowledge, but he’s been there longer than anyone. On a different level entirely.

Wordsworth: The next door neighbor with the most beautiful patio in the complex. He’s got all kinds of beautiful plants that are healthy, no matter how much everyone else’s are dying. Very chill, but don’t cross him. Has been here forever and has been known to get salty with the management when a repair takes too long.

Coleridge: That one guy a couple years back who we all thought had died because his mail was piling up outside his door, but as it turned out, he was really just asleep for two whole days (?????) and felt really bad for making everyone worry. Wherever he is, I hope he’s alive.

Byron: That young professional guy who broadly hinted that he had had sex on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry area, but wouldn’t say which one. (He may or may not have been messing with me.) Never seemed to work, but dressed really well and took Ubers everywhere. Actually pretty funny, but I wouldn’t want to go on a trip with him or anything. Sat on the balcony smoking a hookah.

Shelley: The friendly, yet constantly disheveled upstairs neighbor who worked for a local nonprofit and was always playing records at weird hours of the night. Walked very loudly and sang in the shower. Every night at approximately eight o’clock he’d laugh a singular laugh at something (”HA!”) and then he’d go to bed. He was pretty cool, just odd. Down for Nazi-punching.

Keats: That male nurse on the far side of the complex who snuck in a cat a couple years ago and probably has like a squillion of them now. Has one plant that is struggling for survival, but he’s doing his best with it. Always seems nice, but is low key intimidating. Has names for all the raccoons who forage in the dumpsters, and can be seen checking out the furniture that people discard.

happy pride month fellow shawols

He’s so alsbcksjdb

If cats knew what sin was they wouldn’t even care

Ardeth Bay is the only man I will ever love and frankly I'm alright with that

Yes, exactly!! I’ve always loved fenhawke but they came to mean even more to me after getting out of an abusive relationship myself, and I admire Fenris’s arc so so much more. He really is probably my favorite DA character next to Zevran

Oh handshake and a hug anon, I am also a survivor of abuse and sending all my love to you. 

One of the things that I really love about DA:2 is how much not only does Hawke change, but also how much companions change and develop. They are their own people, away from Hawke.

Aveline doesn’t need Hawke in order to become Guard Captain. Anders doesn’t need Hawke in order to start the revolution. Merrill doesn’t need Hawke in order to repair the eluvian. Varric was always eventually going to find someone to go to the Deep Roads. Sebastian was going to track down the mercenaries if no one else did. I’ve no doubt Fenris would have accomplished what he wanted on his own as well but a key thing to this is - Hawke helps. 

They don’t have a magic solution, they don’t immediately fix things. Aveline asks Hawke to help her on a suspicious patrol. Anders asks Hawke to help him find ingredients. Sebastian asks Hawke to come with him to the Harimann estate. Merrill asks Hawke to help her talk to the Keeper. Varric asks Hawke to come to the Deep Roads.

The companions follow Hawke because Hawke has asked for their help and because they are friends. They don’t do things and change because of Hawke. 

They all subtly develop over the course of the game, having and pursuing their own goals as well as helping each other. In the beginning, Fenris charges into Danarius’s mansion yelling he’s not afraid but by the third act - Fenris asks Hawke for their help, tells them it would mean a lot to him, and admits that he is afraid.

Day6 In Three Words

Jae: California chicken boy

Sungjin: He's your dad

Young K: Wild but shy

Wonpil: Walking aegyo machine

Dowoon: Is so done

DLC required

Romantic poets’ dnd classes

William Wordsworth - Druid. Absolutely obsessed with nature. Will spend hours staring at a single tree believes in nothing except the power of nature. 

Dorothy Wordsworth - fighter. She gets shit done herself. Respects nature and all but a little more grounded than her brother. 

Coleridge - warlock. Oh boy. His whole thing is the power of the imagination, being wishy washy with religion, opium addict, really erratic but also incredibly likeable. He would totally make a pact. 

Keats - grave Cleric. A literal doctor. But a doctor who had to deal with watching his family die from disease. Has a very complicated relationship with death, pretty emo but also a puppy dog. Keats is bae. 

Lord Byron - bard. Need I say more? 

Percy Shelley - rogue. Politically radical and just a social mess. 

Mary Shelley - wizard. Too good for Percy and just a genius. Fascinated by magic and wants to test her limits all the time and DELIVERS. 

Bonus novelist:

Jane Austen - Tough choice but I think she suits bard best. Witty and observant, knows what to say when, detail oriented, never forgets.