#Whatever their polycule name is insert it here...

[deityoftherain]

crochet & cuddles - Flower Court Oneshot

Flower Court is the polyam ship name for Scott, Tango, Jimmy, and Martyn :D

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: M/M, Multi

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 2,086

Summary: Crochet came simple to Scott, even as his head pounded and tears ran down his cheeks. Still, he persisted and he would have continued like that if his boyfriends didn't put a stop to it.

AKA I somehow pull off a four person polycule ship in ~2k words

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

Insert. Yarn over. Pull. Yarn over. Pull. 

Next stitch.

Insert. Yarn over. Pull. Yarn over. Pull.

Next stitch.

The movements came naturally, almost as if by second nature. At this point, they were. Scott didn’t even have to focus on the motions as he continued to crochet down the line.

It was only a simple single crochet stitch; anyone could do it with some patience! He was well acquainted with it. He had taught his boyfriends the basics before, some of them with a shorter fuse than others.

Still, despite its simplicity, Scott enjoyed it. He found comfort in the routine action, maneuvering the hook he held like a knife as he focused on the feeling of the electric green yarn against his fingers.

Scott had selected that yarn to make something for Martyn, knowing that it was his favorite color. What was he making at the moment? Scott wasn’t sure, but hopefully whatever it was lit Martyn’s face up in surprise as he filled his processing time with an interested, drawn-out “ohhh?”

Insert. Yarn over. Pull. Yarn over. Pull.

Next stitch.

Insert. Yarn over. Pull.

Scott was going to continue the stitch, but he was interrupted by someone’s hand being placed over his work. His head snapped up in an instant, prepared to tell off whoever had interrupted him. Scott opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Any words to be said died in his throat with no chance of ever making their way to his lips.

His vision was blurred over with tears to the point he couldn’t make out much of anything. Everything was splotchy, his nose felt runny, and his ears were ringing something fierce. Scott’s crochet work had been relying on muscle memory and touch instead of sight.

Someone was trying to talk to him, but he couldn’t make that out either. They sounded distant, like someone trying to scream for help from a coffin buried six feet under.

Scott just had to keep going. Keep stitching. He had to be useful, even if it was in a small way such as this.

Yarn over. Pull.

Scott made the motions, but the hook and the yarn were gone. In place of his crocheting materials were hands. The hands sported fingerless gloves and callused fingertips, hard and rough from his work with redstone.

Tango.

A sob sputtered from his lips as he hunched forward and squeezed his eyes shut. Scott didn’t have to look at himself to know that his eyes were bloodshot, his face was flushed an unfortunate red, and his blue hair was sticking to his face from the anxiety-induced sweat that drenched his body.

The talking continued around him, Scott’s head clearing enough to pinpoint three different voices. The one he had focused in on first was the same one who pinched his nose with a tissue. Scott couldn’t quite make out the words, but it sounded like he was instructing him to blow. The feeling of excess snot didn’t feel very great, nor did it look very attractive, to say the least, so Scott did as he was told. 

Scott was met with what sounded like praise over the continued ringing in his ears and warping feeling in his head. The one praising him must have walked away because his voice grew more distant.

Tango removed his hands from Scott’s hold, which Scott tried to protest. The texture of Tango’s hands wasn’t the same as the yarn and hook had been, but it was an accepted alternative. Scott wasn’t given much time to wallow in that removal of comfort because the smooth texture that was cool to the touch was pressed against his palms. 

Hands, softer but larger than Tango’s had been, encouraged his fingers to curl around the glass. Scott obeyed, clasping the cup with as much might as he could muster. The same hands guided the cup upwards until the rim of the glass slipped between his lips.

Jimmy.

Scott allowed Jimmy to guide him, tipping the glass up to allow the water to flow into his mouth. The cool liquid wet his parched lips and mouth, triggering a desperate thirst within him. With each gulp, strength seemed to return to him, and he no longer needed assistance.

However, in his eagerness, he swallowed the water too quickly, his body unable to keep up. Scott choked on the liquid, his throat burning in retaliation as he doubled over in a fit of coughing.

Inadvertently, he spat out some water droplets, staining his already tear-stained pants. It was only then that he realized how dry his mouth and throat had been; the relief of the water was akin to the long-awaited rain in a desert.

Tango’s calloused hands brushed against his once more, but they only stayed long enough to take the glass from him. With his hands now free, Scott used his sleeve to try and dry his face of the tears that still trailed down his cheeks. They were slower than before, but still there.

An arm slipped under his knees while the other moved to support his back. Before Scott knew it, he was being picked up, bridal style. The person’s arms were muscular, in a way Scott was familiar with from being held in them before, and he smelled distinctly of sweat, pine, and cotton. With Scott’s head pressed against his carrier’s chest, he could hear the soft sound of a heartbeat that seemed to convince the ringing to quiet.

Martyn.

Scott could feel the rumbling in Martyn’s chest as he spoke. Martyn muttered reassurances in a low tone, allowing Scott to recognize that he was the one who had praised him earlier. A warmth spread throughout his limbs when he realized that, relishing the praise. Scott had expressed to his boyfriends that he liked being told kind words like this, so it always brought a smile to his lips when they expressed their positive viewpoints of him to his face.

His body felt heavy, too exhausted from the hours of sobbing. Scott had cried for so long that he wasn’t even sure why he had started. Knowing him, it was some mild inconvenience that pushed him over the edge. His tendency to bottle emotions up until the dam broke was not the most healthy, but it was what he knew.

Scott buried his face into Martyn’s chest, hands clenching the fabric of his electric green shirt. His favorite color. Yarn. Scott was crocheting. Where had his yarn and hooks gone? “I was making you a gift,” Scott croaked to his boyfriend. He blinked rapidly, his vision gradually clearing up. He could hear Tango and Jimmy talk, but they were still too distant to make out what they were saying.

“What you were making was knot soup with your tears as broth and your pants as the bowl,” Martyn snorted his attempt at a joke. Scott didn’t think it was very funny, and it must have shown on his face for Martyn quickly moved on, “You can finish it later when you feel better.”

“I’m fine,” Scott insisted, though it was clear he was not.

Martyn raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hold back a scoff. “Why are you crying then?”

“‘Cause I’m a pretty crier,” Scott gave the excuse, knowing it was far from the current truth. His cries were only pretty when they were light and controlled. This was anything but that. Dams breaking were so catastrophic for a reason, after all. When a dam broke, water flooded out without much hope of stopping it. The havoc it unleashed was wretched and ugly, just like his emotions’ effect on his body now. Why do they even put up with me?

The thought came and went, common during moods like this. Scott liked to think he was confident enough in his relationships to not think that way, and most of the time he was, but he wasn’t feeling overly confident recently. He wasn’t feeling much like himself, but he was getting there. The overwhelming dread and pain were decreasing with each word and touch from his boyfriends.

Scott loved his boyfriends with his whole being, finding bliss in the fact he was able to call them each his. He could recall the times he’d fondly teased Jimmy as they created flower crowns as if it were yesterday. Scott still had the shell tucked away someplace safe that Martyn had given him as his prize for completing a dare. It had only been a few days since he and Tango had gone through an obstacle course together on horseback.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Scott.” Martyn sounded almost disappointed in Scott’s blatant lie as he set him down on their shared bed. It was large enough for four people, complete with enough pillows and blankets for them to create a plushy nest out of if they so desired.

He bit his tongue, hesitating to respond. Scott averted his eyes away from Martyn, submitting himself to silence once more. He only looked up when he noticed his other boyfriends entering the room.

Jimmy gave Scott his usual awkward but charming smile, golden wings pressed firmly against his back. “Do you want to talk about what's bothering you, petal?”

Tango took a position on the bed next to Scott, placing his fingerless gloved hand on Scott’s thigh. “You know we’re here to listen, yeah?” “Our three sets of ears gotta be useful for something.” Martyn’s comment was rewarded with chuckles from Tango and Jimmy. The ends of Scott’s lips twitched up in response and Martyn flashed a grin at him in return, clearly pleased with himself for getting a smile out of Scott.

Scott glanced between his boyfriends, feeling the pressure in his chest tighten before it eased as he took in the situation. They were all gathered here because of him. It wasn’t in a negative way, either. It wasn’t because he was a nuisance or because he was making them somehow No! They were here because they cared. They cared about him as he cared about them.

He took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He would be okay with them by his side. “I just got overwhelmed with everything.” “I wonder who could have predicted that,” Martyn muttered with a mildly sarcastic edge. He stepped forward to brush Scott’s bangs out of his face. Scott peered up at him as Martyn leaned toward him to press a kiss on his forehead.

“I know, I know,” Scott admitted with a sigh. Martyn’s kiss left a soft buzz of electricity, sparking like little lightning bugs fluttering around inside him. “I should have listened when you told me to take a break.” “Now you know to listen to us next time.” Jimmy climbed into bed from behind Scott and found a position under the blankets. He gently tugged on Scott’s arm, wanting Scott to come closer to him. “If you agree to that, I’ll give you cuddles.” “I think you will give me cuddles either way,” Scott giggled, not being able to help himself as he fulfilled Jimmy’s request. He crawled further down the bed until he was by Jimmy’s side. Scott snuggled against his avian boyfriend, who promptly wrapped his arm and left wing around him. Jimmy’s right wing laid limply off the side of the bed, resting comfortably.

“I’ll double-icate that, adding to the cuddle pile if you agree,” Tango offered, already moving to Scott’s free side. Jimmy's wing uncurled from around Scott's shoulder, allowing Tango to gain contact with Scott's body while Jimmy draped his wing around Tango.

Scott shook his head, but that wasn’t meant to be taken as declining the deal. “You’re impossible. Both of you.” “I like to think I’m rather impossible too,” Martyn chimed in as Tango settled in by Scott.

“Fine, I agree to the deal.” Scott would try, not only for them but for himself. “Just get in here.” Martyn didn’t need any more convincing, joining the other three in their shared bed. The sound of a drawer opening and closing came from the right moments before the television mounted on the wall across from their bed flicked on. Martyn used the remote to navigate to one of the shows they were watching, a sitcom based on the laugh track, but Scott didn’t pay much attention. 

Scott was simply content with the close proximity to the three men he loved the most: Tango, Jimmy, and Martyn.

[trollprincess]

Okay, so. Episode six of Wolf Pack:

THAT is why Blake doesn’t have a phone? That’s … that’s ridiculous. A phone didn’t break up her family, it was her dad being a loud abusive git and her mom cheating. THAT is what broke them up. C’mon, Blake, I know you’re a teenager, but I was hoping you were vaguely possessed of common sense.

Speaking of Blake, at least she and Phoebe made up, I guess. Tia murmuring at Phoebe and Phoebe being all, “Oh, shut up,” was super-cute. Too bad for all the eating.

Sooooo. Baron? Darren? Whatever his name is. I just … okay. I mean, it’s not the worst storyline this could have followed, but whatever.

Okay, you can’t tell me you brought in Gideon Emery to act his ass off in ONE episode and that’s it. I refuse to believe it.

Look, at least the previous mid-riff baring numbers FIT. That embroidered-looking thing Luna was wearing in the barn looked terrible.

As someone with an anxiety disorder, watching Everett be put on the spot like that at the party made my anxiety kick up HARD. Stop DOING that to him! Even if he’s not medicating and he feels better it’s still THERE.

Harlan has very fluffy hair. Because it’s full of SECRETS. And BAD GAY FLIRTING.

Why do I feel like the twins’ “real” father is going to show up in the last episode at the last moment so next season can be him trying to get his kids back? Which, of course, will only be an acceptable plotline if he does so by negotiating custody with Garrett and then the two fall in love after the pack thinks they’d make a cute couple and Parent-Trap them into getting together.

I don’t KNOW why I’m still watching, okay? I know I’m a sucker for “teens growing into their powers” stories, but I also know about shows run by Jeff Davis and how this way madness and bad writing lead.

Everett’s dad is very nice and genuinely concerned, and I’m just wondering when the fucking divorce will come because Jesus hopscotching Christ, y’all.

So SMG protecting the werewolf. Trying to capture it for testing or something? Still monster-hunting with a side business in murdering security guards? I … I don’t know anymore.

Remember the ice rink? Just the core four on TW going and having fun by themselves, even though there were bad things out there, being silly, enjoying themselves, everybody’s sober? Not that everybody NEEDS to be sober, mind you, but I feel like we went from “My mom does all the grocery shopping” and a natural lack of swearing given where TW aired to “Everybody at this party is higher than the the original Woodstock crowd” and “I can curse on Paramount Plus!” followed by a string of swear words even my curse-heavy vocabulary is impressed by. I don’t know, I guess I just miss the ice rink because it felt like that was more character-developing than the party at Tia’s and less like someone put [insert rave here] in the script and a supervisor came along to whack the writer with a newspaper and say, “No! Bad writer!” and had them fix it to … er, this.

On the one hand, shame Phoebe died. On the other hand, was it really necessary to drag the actress across a glass ceiling in a bikini top which was already threatening to structurally collapse in the last episode, much less during a blood-soaked body haul?

I’m going to need all these generic white boys to start wearing name tags. Except Harlan, who is fluffy, and Shaggy Napoleon or whatever we’re calling Luna’s horrible taste in men.

I’m not saying this show could make me a lot happier if the pack end up a polycule (obviously not Harlan and Luna together, but Luna/Blake and Harlan/Everett would be worth it), but I’m not NOT saying that either.

[actualbird]

AFAHSJSSK ITS OK!! I just wanted to make sure it didn't get lost in transit or smth b/c ik tumblr is an abyss sometimes and likes to devour things AFAGAJS. 😂

I actually totally forgot that I asked about nxx polycule meeting mc's parents, so whenever u have the time, I'd love to hear more about that from u...and whatever my original question was for it 😅

IVE READ THE WHOLE SHIP TAG FOR DARIUS/ARTEM TOO! it is *sob* so small, but very very good! There was also a single marius/artem/darius fic in there that I Think about A Lot. It's a very delicious sandwich of age and height difference and a lot of other things haha

YES YES YES! I love how in darius/artem, darius is the older one b/c with the other nxx members, artem is the oldest, so it's an interesting dynamic. Their dynamic in general is SO GOOD I love the few moments we see them interact in the game. (also also insert horny thought here about darius' stubble and artems thighs 🙈)

Oooo looking forward to outsider pov darius fic on the nxx team whenever u get to it 👀 we just need more darius content in this fandom in general in whatever capacity that may be. (Also I hate that my 1st thought when u said that darius looks tired was "yeah I'm sure he definitely has a reason he looks tired all the time *winky face*" AFAHSJSJ- (darius has a secret lover, mayhaps?))

For my marluke question: yes, they're so funny!! I love the way u write them, their banter is always my favorite part of ur fics. Oooo I really like ur point about them being two stubborn people that push each other. It's always interesting to have a dynamic where the characters push each other in productive ways and where they are able to inspire each other to new heights, but they do so in very supportive ways where there's this equal give and take between them, and you see how they grow both together and individually. I love it!

I've been doing well too! just really busy, but I enjoy reading ur blog posts and catching up on ur tot thoughts and analyses whenever I get a break!

- 🐍

eyyo, snake!!! ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

irt asks MIA: oh man, felt. ive been using this website for a Very Long Time and am well aware of it's voracious hunger for certain asks kjgksg.

irt nxx polycule meets mc's parents: YEEEE, I'LL DEFFO get back on the topic. eventually. someday. who knows? certainly not me. i want to but i have a veritable PILE of ideas and topics im working on omg.

irt that sandwich: oh my ggOOOSSH I READ THAT MARIUS/ARTEM/DARIUS FIC. it was very good i loved it because 1) hoo boy, artem as the so called hinge in that poly relationship is incredibly fascinating and 2) ARTEM GOT DP'D?? TWO DICKS??? IN HIM??? AT THE SAME TIME???? everyday we are blessed.

(sidenote: another reason why i havent written darius yet is because his name rhymes with marius KJBKJKGSD. if ever i write him, i think i'll ONLY call him by his last name, morgan. tot eng localization team, why did u do this? ur making shipping harder...)

irt darius and artem dynamic: their canon interactions are GREAAAT. one i remember very clearly is main story 5.1 (or .2 or .3, not sure) where darius was like "hear that, wing? he wants to sue you. who would you get as your defense attorney, if that happened? that partner of yours---" and then artem is like "Stop." which is SO FUNNY and indicative of the fact that darius is comfy enough to playfully jab at artem like this and that artem seems to be used to it HAHA.

irt horny: ah. your horny thoughts and my horny thoughts shake hands. obsessed, im OBSESSED with artem shivering at the feeling of darius languidly dragging his stubble face across places where artem is most sensitive.

thighs is very good, yes. but im also thinking that if darius wants to be a rascal, he could just give artem a nuzzle on the neck at the station and artem is like "ALRIGHT. WE'RE LEAVING." because he gets so worked up just from that. i mean, how could he not? every time he feels that sensation, it's always followed by....much more intimate sensations. darius morgan has pavlovian conditioned artem wing to get horny at stubble feel. BLESS UP!!!!

irt why darius looks like he isnt getting any sleep at all: JSBGDJKSGKSD!!! HES TIRED BECAUSE HES FUCKIN ALL NIGHT!!!! i second the motion because it's hot and also hilarious

irt my wonderful baby boys: hhhh im glad u like how i write marluke!!! im on a mission to just flood the marluke ao3 tag, i live here now (but will occasionally make grocery trips to write for other ship or no ship tags) but i do get worried like oH NO AM I WRITING A FLAVOR OF MARLUKE THAT LIKE....SUCKS??? so ur words mean a lot :'). and YEA. characters who push other characters and also the story are just so much fun to work with.

oftentimes when im writing marluke, all i have to do is put them in the premise. and like....the characterization i have for them, they make all the choices from there on out. i, as a person, dont have to make the decisions, if that makes sense? theyre doing it for me.

truly, writing for me just feels like me running around and filming a documentary of little guys in my brain.

glad youre doing okay!! and i hope you have a nice day :DDD

[cat-birl-underarm]

I want to keep this the pinned post, but I also don't have enough space in my bio for an About/DNI, so here goes.

I'm still in a stage of self-discovery, so expect this post to be updated as I learn more about myself, my limits, and what's out there for me to want limits of. If you don't see something here, that doesn't mean I'm okay with it; more likely, just that I hadn't thought of it yet.

About:

If you're a minor you should get the hell away from here. Age and/or birth year in your bio/about/url, or you will be blocked.

Born in 1997. Currently 25 years old.

Nonbinary/genderqueer (probably genderfluid or bigender/multigender).

Bisexual. If I like or reblog your post, you can probably* assume that I am doing so in a gay way, regardless of which way you gay (*with a really big asterisk that i hope the rest of this post clarifies, or at least confuses you enough that you no longer care).

Any pronouns, with a preference for they/them.

I probably won't be posting my own content, at least not for a while. I'm currently still in the closet.

DNI:

Minors. I cannot stress this enough, but you need to go study for that precalc exam.

Cishets [case-by-case basis; message me first]. (Cis lgb+ and trans hets are fine and in fact invited to the polycule).

Transphobes. This includes transmeds.

General standard DNI criteria: racists, bigots, p*dos, n*zis, etc.

Turn-ons/kinks:

Excessive consent. Yes, consent is literally my kink.

Pet names that mix both masculine and feminine terms of endearment.

Clothed m*sturbation; remote control vibes may also be involved.

Solo somno; may be extended to non-solo under very rare, soft circumstances.

Unusual insertion, so long as the object is sanitized beforehand.

Soft limits:

Piss (okay as long as the post is tagged so I can filter it)

Hard limits:

De-trans kink/misgendering. (Due to my particular form of nonbinariness, I'm mostly immune to whatever you could throw at me, but just out of principle, I don't want you anywhere near me.) In short, if I tell you I don't want to be called something, and you continue to do so, you will be blocked.

Inc*st, r*ceplay, sc*t, r*pe, blood (like, in excessive amounts), prolapsing, v*mit, gore; anything unsanitary, or excessively painful, or nonconsensual.

Like this post so I know you've read it before (or at least shortly after) you follow.

When I started this blog, it was immediately after the December 17th event. I had made it a personal policy that I would only ever like posts, not reblog them, since I didn't want to draw the ire of the censor bot, which could then cause the censors to look at the other things I reblogged, thereby causing the creators I enjoyed that had been flying under the radar to be pushed off the site.

As it turns out, this backfired immensely. If you like a post, and the person you liked it from is terminated, deactivated, or otherwise deleted, that content is now inaccessible from your Likes page. If your like was the only single note on that post, then that content is now gone forever unless the uploader makes a new account and re-uploads the content.

By reblogging a post, there's a chance that the content will be preserved. I apologize for not having had that foresight earlier.