#group dynamics

[pratchettquotes]

That evening the men were practicing archery on the green. Bill Door had carefully ensured a local reputation as the worst bowman in the entire history of toxophily; it had never occurred to anyone that putting arrows through the hats of bystanders behind him must logically take a lot more skill than merely sending them through a quite large target a mere fifty yards away.

It was amazing how many friends you could make by being bad at things, provided you were bad enough to be funny.

Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

[animehideout]

Masterlist

[m00nlit-desires]

My first post was supposed to be art, but apparently, this ended up happening, and I wanted to show it to someone

[mojodojogojo]

two idiots and their handler

this is the best group dynamic and you literally cant tell me I'm wrong.

[i-is-v-tired]

[fetchen]

can you please make fetchen group dynamic headcannons? how the group interacts with/reacts to them 😍

YES OMG :3

~ janis and regina are bitter haters through and through. they’ll gag when fetchen kiss in front of them and comment stuff like “break up” or “delete this” when they post each other. it’s all in good fun of course but rejanis are the biggest haters ever.

~ MEANWHILE cady and damian absolutely love karen and gretchen’s relationship. if there was a fetchen fanclub they’d be co-presidents.

~ when cady first met the plastics, she thought karen and gretchen were already in a relationship. cady’s arrival was, in part, the catalyst for them getting together for real.

~ pretty much nobody in the friend group was surprised when they started dating . nobody except for aaron . he doesn’t see it coming at all

~ aaron is very supportive tho . he’s new to all this gay stuff be nice to him

~ they have movie nights as a group and karen and gretchen always get the couch to themselves no matter whose house they’re at . regina’s advocated for a rotating system but it hasn’t stuck .

~ they made a promise to exchange gifts for valentine’s day every year in a secret santa-type fashion. they have two rules. price limit is $25 and karen and gretchen cannot be paired up . they’re simply too insufferable

~ when they go on group trips of any sort, damian is the resident fetchen photographer he captures their cutest moments and does it damn well

~ every year, gretchen commissions the whole friend group to plan karen’s birthday party and every year, the parties are absolute hits

[shannaraisles]

Still Yours - for @50sjello

For @50sjello, who has been incredibly patient - this has been sitting in my finished folder for almost a month, due to various of my own issues, but finally, here it is! Thank you so much, lovely!

Still Yours

The mood in the camp was ... awkward this morning, to say the least. It isn’t every night you wake up flooded with physical ecstasy, only to discover it isn’t actually yours, and you’re feeling it secondhand from the nominal leader of your group as they couple with a mindflayer in their shared dreamscape. Sylvana was fairly sure none of the party was ever going to look at them the same way again. 

“Well, that was quite the wet dream we all shared last night, wasn’t it?” Astarion declared in a surprisingly innocent display of avuncular good humour. “I do hope it doesn’t become a regular thing. I prefer my intimacies ... intimate.”

The look that flickered in the direction of a certain purple tent spoke volumes of both judgement and unexpected concern, underscored by the faintest hint of a smirking smile as Karlach took up the theme.

“Gods, I never want to look at another octopus ever again,” she said, shuddering as her flames intensified for a moment. “That was ... no. Nope, I am not thinking about it.”

“It was a very stimulating evening,” Shadowheart interjected, straightening from her morning stretch. “Who would have thought the Emperor would have such creativity when it came to such an unconventional coupling?”

Face flaming red, Sylvana focused on fastening their bedroll, trying to ignore the spirited debate now being undertaken by three members of their party, all of whom were dying in equally creative ways in the secret, hidden pathways of their mind. A prickle of fur brushed their calf, drawing their attention to the sharp eyes of a tressym standing entirely too close for comfort. Nothing can judge you for decisions made in the heat of the moment quite like a feline with a bone to pick. 

“Good night, was it?” Tara asked, and Sylvana only just suppressed the flinch at the ice in the tressym’s tone. 

The young rogue steeled themselves, setting down the bedroll to turn and face the closest thing to a mother Gale of Waterdeep had handy. Tara’s yellow eyes were hard in the morning stillness, more than a little resentment stirring within the magical feline for the harm done to her young Mr Dekarios in the night. Sylvana swallowed, taking a moment to clear their thoughts and their throat before addressing the acid remark.

“I know I have made a terrible mistake,” they informed Tara. “I know it’s worse because everyone is aware of it. But the shockwaves of that mistake are between myself and Gale, and while I appreciate that you love him and want only to protect him, he is a grown man and we should be able to discuss this like adults, without others inserting themselves into our dynamic.”

The tressym considered them for an excruciating moment, that sharpness in that gaze almost enough to draw blood. Then she ruffled her feathers, her tail rippling from straight to just slightly curved.

“Then I suggest you begin this adult discussion of yours,” she said primly. “Mr Dekarios is a great man, but when it comes to matters of the heart, he is a teenaged nightmare with all the social skills of an erotically charged goblin. Good luck to you.”

Even as Sylvana raised their brows at this rather brutal description of the man they loved, the two of them heard a choked objection abruptly cut off from within the tent. Ah. Well, that made sense of Tara’s comment on his emotional maturity in this matter. Apparently hiding in his tent and listening to everyone else was Gale’s idea of dealing with this. Sylvana could not entirely blame him. He must have decided he was being set aside yet again by the beloved of his heart, something he had still not truly come to terms with when it came to Mystra. 

With Tara flicking her tail and heading toward the campfire to ply her wiles on Wyll for breakfast, Sylvana straightened their shoulders and ducked through the thick purple fabric. Their eyes found Gale near instantly, stumbling back from the curtain they had just stepped through as though he had not expected them to make their entrance so soon after speaking with Tara. His eyes were red, betraying tears he would no doubt be horrified to know were so easily discerned in his weary face; his gaze pinned to Sylvana’s face with wide-eyed trepidation. 

Yet before Sylvana could so much as open their mouth, he held up a hand to still any words that might be said. 

“If this is to be the end of us, then land the blade sharply, I beg you,” he said, each word ringing with a certainty that could only have come from practice since he had woken. “No excuses, no softening of the blow. Tell me, once and for all, if this truly is the end of the love I have come to trust so wholly since we met.”

Sylvana narrowed their eyes slightly at these last words, not particularly liking the attempt at emotional manipulation but understanding that, as Tara said, he was emotionally an angsty teenager still. 

“It’s the last thing I want, Gale,” they said, voice trembling just a little now they were faced with the consequences of their curious interlude the night before. “But if we are to continue, we need to talk about what happened last night.”

“You chose to betray my trust with a mindflayer,” he snapped. “In a way that broadcast my humiliation to the entire camp, to these people who have become our - my - friends. People who know my history have seen me cast aside a second time, for what? For sport?” His gaze hardened as he stared at her, brows furrowing in pain. “Tell me it meant nothing.”

“I can’t do that.”

The answer was honest. And in all honesty, they could not blame him for the faint cry of misery that left his lips, the way his knees seemed to buckle and toss him down upon the makeshift bed he had not yet packed away. Sylvana forced themselves to step closer, to crouch, to kneel at his side, not daring to offer a touch in consolation. They only had words, but it was a language that this man certainly understood. 

“Let me tell you why,” they said, each word soft but firm in the pain-filled silence of the tent. “And when I am done, if you still wish nothing more to do with me, then I will accept that. I have wronged you, but not with malicious intent.”

Knees drawn to his chest, hands clasped and twisting anxiously together, Gale drew in a staggered breath, seeming to force away fresh tears as he nodded. Whatever else happened now, he needed to know. Taking the invitation, Sylvana twisted themselves to sit beside him on the padded bedroll, staring at the star-filled constellation of Mystra they had never once asked him to remove from his sleeping place. 

“I don’t know everything about you,” they began, careful to keep their tone light, conversational. No blame or implication of guilt; nothing to provoke an emotional reaction from him. “I don’t know every fleeting thought that pulses through your mind; every impulse you restrain, every judgement you make on those we pass by or interact with. I only see what you choose to show me, and I love every part of that man, even the parts you are perhaps ashamed of.”

They felt him shudder beside them, felt the unspoken acknowledgement that no mortal truly knew another in the way they were describing. Felt the realisation of where this was going even before they continued to explain. 

“The Emperor knows everything about me,” they told him. “All of it. Not just what I choose to show, but everything I intentionally hide. Every unkind thought, every urge toward pain and destruction, everything that I know would sour the affection of the people I love toward me ... it knows all of it. Can you truly blame me for doing as I did, at a moment when I felt seen in a way no one has ever seen me before? For just those few moments, I could finally understand why you remain so devoted, so loyal, so tender toward Mystra. She knows you, the way he knows me. And yes, perhaps I wanted to even the score in that regard. Perhaps I knew it would hurt you, the way it hurts me each time you say her name with such fondness. The way it hurts to have to see her celestial face each time I come to you in privacy. But am I so unforgivable?”

There was a long silence, still wracked with pain but now peppered with understanding, the words he loved and needed so much guiding him down the path to truly understanding the why of what had gone before. 

“It felt ... clinical, to me,” he said finally, his tone calm, almost detached. “I could feel your curiosity, your physical pleasure. Where was your heart, Sylvana?”

“In your hands. Always.”

They felt him suck in a breath, a sudden change in the turmoil radiating from him softening to their words as this commitment was made. A moment later, his fingers found theirs, hesitant but warm, daring to cross the divide between them. 

“Had it been me in your place,” he said, each word tremulous but firm, “I do not think I could have gone through with it. Not that the temptation would not have been great, but ... I have been set aside by those I adore too often to willingly do it to another. To you.”

For the first time since waking, Sylvana felt the shard of pain they had been holding at bay slice deep. They knew this, of course they did. Some things could not be retracted or forgotten. But perhaps they could be forgiven?

Gale’s fingers tightened about theirs, drawing their palm to rest over his heart. 

“My heart is yours,” he said, whispering painfully into the stillness. “Still yours. Always yours.”

Sylvana tilted their head toward him, finally finding his eyes on them with the by now familiar adoration back where it had always been. An adoration that was now just a touch guarded, but still there.

“Can we come back from this?” they asked, eyes burning with the urge for tears they did not feel they had earned the right to shed. “Can you forgive me my weakness?”

His brow pressed to theirs, and they shuddered together, each one fighting back those tears, knowing that such a display here and now would do neither of them any good. Hands gripped hands, breath mingled in staggering gusts, both wizard and rogue breathing together to eradicate the harsh reality of their painful morning. 

“If you can forgive me for mine,” Gale said finally, lifting his eyes to theirs. “I have held onto the memory of her affection when I should have given you all of my focus. I swear this to you, my beloved heart, I will let her go. And when the time comes that the Emperor has no further need of us, I will stand by your side as you let him go.”

The relief was palpable - audible, even, as they heard Astarion suddenly declare that the fun he had been expecting wasn’t even going to start now. Sylvana let out a rueful laugh, joined by a wry chuckle from Gale as they wrapped themselves in each other’s arms, squeezing close to chase away the last of the uncertainty the morning had wrought.

“As long as you are mine, I could face anything at your side,” Gale murmured, at last pressing a tender kiss to his lips. 

“I’m yours,” was their answer, heartfelt and unshakeable. “I’m still yours.”

[ineffectualdemon]

I think every ensemble should have that one character who is very angry at everything and is kept on a metaphorical (or literal) leash and every so often, for enrichment purposes, the rest of the ensemble let them make someone cry by either literally or metaphorically eviscerating them

They also have to be kind to people who need kindness. Like they are always looking for a fight but they want someone that can either defend themselves or someone who deserves it. They aren't going to hurt someone for no reason

But an ensemble just doesn't feel right if you don't have the angry one who seems half a second away from stabbing someone

Star Trek's genius was to make that character the healer. Because Bones will stab you but he chooses to do that with medicine while detailing how stupid you are to need his medicine

[pixellangel]

IDEAL FRIEND GROUP DYNAMIC

- edgy

- edgy

- edgy

- comedic relief

one (1) edgy friend may also be swapped out for a silent protagonist type. i do not take constructive criticism btw

[yadelah]

Need more content where a group is like:

Person A: needs to be on a child leash

Person B: feels left out if not also on a child leash

Person C: has escaped the child leash

Person D: the one holding the child leashes

[pratchettquotes]

People on the side of The People always ended up disappointed, in any case. They found that The People tended not to be grateful or appreciative or forward-thinking or obedient. The People tended to be small-minded and conservative and not very clever and were even distrustful of cleverness. And so, the children of the revolution were faced with the age-old problem: it wasn't that you had the wrong kind of government, which was obvious, but that you had the wrong kind of people.

As soon as you saw people as things to be measured, they didn't measure up.

Terry Pratchett, Night Watch

[the-baby-storyteller]

I love when a team soothes a character.

I love when the character is hurt and pained with glossy eyes on the edge of tears when their friends get to them.

I love the shushing and holding and murmuring and gentle touches.

I love when the character gasps for air, pushing themselves to speak, trying desperately to get words out, and the team just gently rebukes them, tells them not to speak.

The character remembers everything that happened, the fear, the danger, the threatening words from their attacker. They have to let the team know, have to tell them, have to get it out now.

They try desperately to get the words out, gasping for air and choking on it, almost on the verge on tears as they sputter incoherently.

But the team, they know it’s important, they know they’ll need to be told. But they also know right now the character needs calm, needs to be calm, above all else.

So they shush them calmly against their pleas and protests, tell them to relax, to be calm, soothe them. The character nearly bursts into tears but they hold them softly and tell them it’s alright, it’s alright, right now they need to sleep.

The character, amidst their tears, is lulled to bed amongst the rocking of the teammate and their own strained pleas.

[mongo-the-liensis]

The party (on the fourth floor). Tell me I'm wrong!

[nefri-black]

Photo from the find the difference series I don't find it, they are practically the same ;)

[thecrazygamingzombie]

The 'my adventures with superman' dymanic™

[charis23]