You’ve Heard Of Romanticism, But What About Bromanticism? Two Poets Chilling In A Graveyard Sitting

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.

Nicknames For The Romantic Poets

-Mary “Original Goth Queen” Shelley

-Percy “Thinks Byron’s weird but is going to go with it anyway” Shelley

-Lord “Totally wants Percy to notice his bisexual ass” Byron

-William “Call Me Turdsworth One More Time” Wordsworth

-John “Small bean, Please Protect” Keats

-Samuel “Lowkey Gay For Wordsworth” Coleridge

A Snowball Fight

+ bonus cuteness:

Sex: *exists*

Me:

But did they really brake the wheel?

People are allowed to be repulsed by sex.

People are allowed to be uncomfortable with nudity.

People are allowed to be uncomfortable with genitalia, their own or others. 

There are so many reasons why people may feels this way, from dysphoria to being asexual to coping with sexual assault to just straight up that’s how they feel.

And that’s ok.

“I want a kpop group that does aggressive concepts” 

“…. But also does soft concepts…”

“… But can still keep their hard image…”

“..BUT CAN ALSO STILL BE CUTE AND SILLY….”

“.. A Group that shows their sensitive side..”

“.. BUT CAN ALSO GO PASTEL WITH FUNKY BEATS I CAN SHAKE MY BUM TOO…”

“… But also releases Japanese albums…”

“… A group that doesn’t stick to one concept…” 

“… A Group with deep meaningful lyrics and hard hitting MVs..?” 

“… A group that writes and produces their own music…”

“ A group that no matter how hard they work and how much shit they’ve gone through are still 100% for their fans and only truly care about their passions and life but still keep us updated and make sure we’re happy and continue to support us as much as we support them”

For all my writers struggling with weaponry of the sword variety. 

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.