The Polycule's Girlfriend's Feet Are Cold, And Unfortunately, It's Blake's Turn To Warm Them

By O.A. CARRY FOR: 65,000〡PUBLISHED: February 24th, 2026

---

During this week’s Nor’easter that dumped over a foot of snow on New York City, polycule members James, Blake, Maggie, Mica, and Sebastian hit the sledding hill at their local Brooklyn park, not thinking of girlfriend Maggie’s low-top Adidas Sambas. She had recently moved to New York from Texas after being e-courted by the men over Pinterest.

“Her leopard print sneakers looked cute on her mood board,” said Mica, 26, “But her feet are going to be cold and soaked. I don’t care, though, ‘cause it’s Blake’s turn to warm them anyway.”

The group’s girlfriend, Maggie, 24, has been at the center of the group’s attention ever since she joined the love pentagon in June.

“I’m glad I didn’t get cold feet,” she said about joining the polycule. In secret, inside the sanctity of a snow fort at the edge of Prospect Park, she revealed that Mica is her favorite. “He’s got a tattoo behind his pubes that matches a tattoo behind his armpit hair.”

---

The kids who actually built the snow fort impatiently listened to the gossip from outside. One of them turned irate and knocked over a load-bearing wall. Maggie’s shoes were engulfed in cold snow.

“Avalanche!” she screamed in a PTSD haze, stemming from a bad backpacking incident in Utah that left her interested in polyamory. “Under that snow, we were all we had,” she recalled.

“When winter first started,” Mica said, “[Maggie] would make us all lie down in a circle on the ground, so that our bodies formed somewhat of a human mandala. Us guys, our knees would be bent and touching in the middle, and Maggie would stand there and put her cold feet between all of us. It was the only thing that worked.”

“It was beautiful,” said James, 30. “She was like a flower sprouting out of our hairy leg bouquet. But it was also crazy uncomfortable.” James's frail, bony body was always at the bottom of the knee pile. “Some people sleep on their sides. Others on their backs. We sleep in a pile. And I’m usually on the bottom.”

---

The polycule grew tired of the method and has since adopted a rotating schedule for the token girl’s feet-warming needs. Each day, when Maggie comes home from work, one of the men gets in position—on their side with their thighs shaven in the middle—and it takes around three hours of constant rubbing to get each toe to room temperature.

Blake, 25, realized his fate too late on the day of the sledding incident. He panicked and tried to warm Maggie’s feet prematurely by creating a small fire in the park lit with pages from the polycule’s diary and a novelty blowtorch lighter that he bought in haste (for $10) at the nearest smoke shop. Oddly, the smoke shop was The Amazing World of Gumball-themed and not centered on Rick and Morty items.

“I don’t know. It worked on me,” Blake said with his orange Darwin lighter in hand, showing the underage fish character with bloodshot eyes.

---

Fred, an elderly onlooker watching the love quintuplet having fun in the snow, was surprised to learn that they were all fucking.

“Doesn’t a polycule involve a bunch of genders?” he asked. “It’s just a bunch of guys and a girl. What they’re doing… It’s kind of like a gangbang that went on too long.”

Blake, too worried about Maggie’s toes, didn’t call out the old man for his problematic take.

“It’s like they’re gay reverse Mormons,” Fred continued, taking a bite out of a Cliff bar. “And these things are horrible,” he said about the snack. “I’d rather be eating my own kidney for 300 calories.”

---

On the short subway ride home, park bystander Fred, 76, followed the polycule onto the train and kept his vacant old-man eyes on the group.

James, 22, the polycule’s space cadet, didn’t notice that they had a stalker. “I’m so pissed,” he said, thinking of something else. “Maggie told me that she got pregnant by her weed dealer in high school. Bro, we could’ve had free weed for life.”

When the polycule got off a few stops later, old man Fred followed them. He tapped Maggie on the shoulder as they walked, and the whole group turned around, feeling the touch simultaneously.

“We’ve been working on that,” Mica said.

Fred extended an invitation to his home, located just a few blocks away, which had a jacuzzi bathtub and a sauna, according to him. Perhaps more impressive, Fred also said he had in-unit laundry, and he promised to dry Maggie’s shoes while the group enjoyed the amenities.

“The machine plays a little jingle when it’s done,” Fred said to a chorus of wows from the group.

During their walk, the group mused over whether or not Fred was interested in them sexually.

“Old people showers are the best for sex because they have that little seat in them,” Sebastian said. “And they’ve got handles! Too bad I’ve only ever masturbated in them.”

Mica, who’s been to Sebastian’s grandma’s house, confirmed this. “I’ve seen him do it. In fact, he made me see him do it.”

“When I masturbate, I call that a heartbeat, ‘cause I be putting my soul into it,” Sebastian said.

Surrounding the entourage on their walk home were people, both jobless and jobful, shoveling their driveways, cleaning off their cars, and dumping salt on their stoops. Everyone had the day off, not just the polycule, whose group OnlyFans account lets them work only three days a week.

“But they’re 8-hour shifts,” Blake clarified. “I’m the sound guy. Mica holds the camera. Maggie does our taxes, finances… James is the only one who can get hard, and Sebastian likes to give head.”

---

When the group arrived at Fred’s apartment, a beautiful brownstone on a tree-lined block, our 65,000 reporter was denied entry.

“You can come in if you do our dishes later,” said Maggie.

Our reporter respectfully declined the offer, knowing that a polycule’s dish pile is a force of total annihilation.

And as the group entered the building, some neighborhood cats walked by. They hopped and trotted, and pawed at each other at random. Snow dotted the tips of their fur and whiskers.

“Ah, the original polycule,” our reporter said to no one. “That’s what you call a group of cats: a polycule,” which is true, because all good polycules get reincarnated as a group of cats.