#Promptly decided that the most interesting thing about him was that he preferred pancakes to waffles

[drawingdullahan]

Chapter 1

Jacob Collins now finds himself in the town of Hunter’s Creek, searching for the perfect material for his current novel. What he doesnt expect to find is a boy the town calls an enthusiast of the macabre.

There are no frightening scenes in this chapter, its actually just a small bit of mundane things. Jacob just has a inconveniently bad morning.

To say that Jacob had a pleasant morning was… a bit of a strong word. Decent could work, though he felt that drab fit it all quite a bit more. The bed had been very stiff as if it was old enough to have been worn down to the creaking springs that supported it, breakfast had been a no go after hearing some shouting from the inn’s kitchen, and Jacob had fumbled with his clothes this morning, walking out in a mismatched outfit before having to turn around and head straight back in to fix it. He silently hoped none of the staff had witnessed that.

The coffee shop, as it were, was only a few stores down from the inn that he had rested at. Which was lucky for him since currently he was barely functioning thanks to the aforementioned inn room stay. Hopefully they would have breakfast as well.

When he stopped, I front of the door it seemed that they had only been open for a few minutes, which was odd considering it was already almost nine. Jacob stepped in and immediately the aroma of breakfast and coffee flooded his nose. He took a deep breath and sighed, he finally found himself able to let his shoulders relax. The smell of an actual breakfast made his stomach rumble, and he adjusted his bag on his shoulder while finding a nice spot to sit at the bar.

“What can I get you today, sugar?” a woman behind the counter gave him a large smile. Had Jacob been paying more attention to her he would’ve noticed that her teeth seemed so perfect they almost looked fake, and she wore so much makeup that it was more of a detriment to her looks rather than a helpful addition. Her hand absentmindedly twirled a lock of bleach blond hair.

“Ill have a coffee and a small plate of pancakes,” he said while setting his laptop on the counter.

“Coming right up, sir,” she winked.

He smiled and waited for her to leave before giving another sigh. He expected the people of this town to be a bit much, and were he running on a good night’s sleep he figured he would be more apt to handle it. He wasn’t however, so for now he tried to focus on an outline for his currently novel.

“What brings you to Hunter’s Creek, stranger?” she asked while pouring him a cup of coffee. The smile was still present on her face, and by the looks of it, it didn’t seem forced either. He wished he could channel that much raw happiness at a time like this. If only he could sap her motivation and use it for his own. The thought wasn’t one he expected his mind to conjure up, but he supposed he could use the idea for part of his story.

“I’m looking for stories,” he responded, wondering if she had any.

“Like scoops? You with the media, Mister?” she looked at him with an accusing gaze and he quickly lifted his hands in defense.

“N-no ma’am! Not at all. I’m a fictional writer, and I was hoping to find some folktales or stories about paranormal activity in the area,” he said, but as it came out of his mouth, he realized that just sounded like a stupid excuse. Luckily it seemed to work anyways.

“Ooooh, I heard from the McDonrey’s that they had a writer stayin’ at their inn. You must be the man of the hour,” her smile slipped right back onto her face as if it hadn’t left, “We got plenty of old coots willing to talk your ear off about magic and crazy nonsense. Though, I’d be a bit careful who you talk to.”

That caught his attention and he finally looked up to make eye contact with her. He took this opportunity to see if his coffee had cooled any too. It had not, no creamer either, he would ask for that in a moment. For now, he listened intently.

“Mr. Baker. He’s always going on about crazy stories. Scares the kids half to death when he talks to him. I know he’s just messin’ around, but yeesh, how messed up do you have to be to have that many spooky stories to let loose?” she sighed and leaned on the counter. It was slow today, but then again Jacob began to wonder if this was normal for such a small town. It was oddly different than the city that he was used to.

“He just thinks up stories on his own? He doesn’t get them from anywhere?” Jacob asked with interest. If they were original works, he would gladly pay if they were good enough to cause a fright, and at this point anything new in those regards would practically be godsend. People just weren’t scared of all the classics anymore.

“Yeah, seems such a nice man until he starts telling those stories. In all other respects he’s a saint. He’s actually a regular at the shop too. It’s almost that time of day when he finally crawls out of whatever hovel he comes from,” she joked, “He doesn’t always share stories, only when the kids ask, and that’s on them.”

“What’d you say his name was?” Jacob opened a notepad on his computer so that he could write the name down.

“Trace Baker, he’s an odd one, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Once he gets to talking it just doesn’t stop.” She set down his pancakes and went to help another customer who had walked in.

Jacob could deal with a senile old man—well as long as said senile old man didn’t have a weapon. Judging from what she had said though, Mr. Baker seemed an agreeable fellow, likely with too much time in his older age to think up stories to mess with the local kids. If he talked as much as she said, then good. More information meant more inspiration. Though he figured the man might be reluctant to sell any ideas, which may end up being a problem.

As he thought he almost ended up forgetting about his pancakes, which he promptly ate now before they got cold. The coffee wasn’t any better now that it had cooled off, and it felt a bit too late and too awkward for him to ask for cream and sugar now, so he decided he would rather just deal with it.

“Coffee without creamer? You’re an odd one, stranger.”

Jacob looked up from his now empty place to the source of the voice. Next to him was a man perhaps just a few years younger than himself with a smile that felt more genuine than most he had ever seen in his life. He sat next to Jacob, which he found a bit odd considering all the available spaces still left in the café. This didn’t seem to bother the mysterious man at all.

“Ah, not something I prefer, usually,” Jacob felt a bit awkward and fiddled with his keyboard just a bit. He didn’t feel so bad as he would’ve with someone sitting next to him, after all his document was open, but it was blank for now. He never could get over people who read over his shoulder nosily.

The man gave out a bit of a chuckle at that and Jacob couldn’t really tell if he was laughing at him or with him. He gave a bit of a sigh, not one that he thought could be heard, but as his luck would have it, it was. The laughter stopped.

“Are you the writer I’ve heard about?” the man asked.

“Word travels fast here if a nobody like me gets this much attention,” Jacob took another sip of the bitter coffee.

“The town doesn’t get many visitors,” he gave a lighthearted laugh once more, “But you sure don’t seem like a nobody to me. Can I ask what you’re here for Mr…?”

“Just Jacob is fine.”

“Alright Jacob,” he started, “What brings you here?”

The other man seemed far too excited about a newcomer in the town. Far more at least than everyone else he had run int who knew that he was new but didn’t pay him any mind. Meanwhile whoever this fellow was looked ready to burst at the seams.

“Uh-“

“Trace, stop running off my customers!” The woman from before wore a large, irritated scowl. The mention of the name Trace however gave Jacob a bit of whiplash.

“Me,” he said, “but you’re the one forcing the guest to drink bland coffee.”

At that she snatched Jacob’s cup, “Crap, I forgot!” she muttered to herself before running into the kitchen. The name certainly wasn’t the only reason he was a bit shocked now. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to a community so tightly knit that everyone seemed to act like feuding family members.

“She can be a bit forgetful, you just have to remind her,” Trace said with no evidence of bother in his voice.

“Hold on a moment,” Jacob collected his thoughts, “You’re Trace Baker? The town’s scary story enthusiast?” he would’ve found it funny if he weren’t in shock. He supposed he shouldn’t have assumed it was an old man, but the idea of ravings on paranormal activity seemed nothing short of senile.

“Yes…” his tone shifted just a little and he looked more confused now, “I wouldn’t call myself an enthusiast, but I am Trace Baker.”

[sidewritings]

From Me To You

Prompt: Ummm… can I get some LAMP set right after accepting anxiety with the sides finding little presents from Virgil who’s trying to say thanks for caring enough to bring him back. The others decide to show him just how much they want him there.  @bubblycricket

Additional request: fluffy af please. If there happens to be a moment where Virgil thinks he's in trouble for it and then is wholesomely surprised when it turns out hes not, who would complain? @irrelevantbutfabulous

Pairings: LAMP Polysides

Genres: Fluff, romance, comfort 

Warnings: None come to mind, let me know if any are needed, will add

Word Count: 2808 (It ran away with me, I’m sorry)

Author’s Note: I am sick as heck and decided to use my time stuck in bed to write this. Special thank you to @tinysidestrashcaptain for coming up with the gift for Logan. I was super stumped by that.  I apologize if this doesn’t fit the prompt exactly.  There’s something about ‘little presents’ that didn’t translate to me.

Logan found them first.  He woke up promptly at 7:00am, cleaned and dressed himself, and was down in the kitchen for his coffee at 7:15am.  Once he'd finished his first cup of coffee and was preparing the second (black with five teaspoons of sugar), he finally noticed some oddly shaped packages on the coffee table in the living room. 

Sipping at his coffee, he walked over to examine them.  There was a manila envelope with his name on it closest to his spot by the hallway when they made videos. There was a large box about the size of a human torso lying horizontally nearest Roman's spot wrapped in red paper and the royal's name scrawled in one corner. A slightly smaller box stood on its end by Patton's spot near the window.  The box was wrapped in pale blue paper with rubber duckies printed on it. A series of small, neat holes in the top of the box spelled Patton's name.

They appeared to be gifts, but Logan was cautious.  New things that appeared in the mind-scape were often Roman's doing, and anything Roman did was highly unpredictable. The absence of a gift for Virgil could mean any number of things, but the presence of a gift for Roman meant it was unlikely the packages were left by Princey.  Deciding it was too early in the morning to try to solve mysteries that would eventually solve themselves, Logan took a seat in his favorite spot and waited for the others.  

Patton was the next to arrive, coming downstairs cheerfully humming with a little spring in his step none of the other sides could manage (or would want to) so early. A cheerful 'good morning, Logan!' was followed by much excitement over the gifts.

“Presents!  Awww, how sweet. We should open them...”

“Inadvisable.  We don't know where they came from or why they're here.”

“Oh, we should wait for Roman! He has a gift too. But there's none for Virgil, maybe I can make something for him before he wakes up!”

“That's a possibility, but there are still too many unknown variables,”

“Good morning, did I hear something about gifts?”

“Good day, Roman.”

“Hey, good morning Roman! Yeah, someone left us presents.  Logan doesn't think we should open them though.  Something about unknown vegetables.”

“Unknown variables, Patton.”

There was a short bout of bickering, ended temporarily by Roman's stomach growling. An agreement was reached to come back to the argument once they'd eaten. Patton went to the kitchen to make them all breakfast, Logan following to make more coffee for Roman and Virgil when he woke up (Patton did not require caffeination like the rest of them).  Roman stayed in the living room, looking over the packages, lifting them, and looking for clues.  Aside from the fact that Logan's gift seemed to be some kind of paper thing (the envelope read DO NOT BEND) on the back), and Roman's was not only larger but significantly heavier than the other gifts, and Patton's did not seem to be alive, despite the holes in the top, there was little he could figure out.

They ate their Mickey Mouse pancakes that Patton made (it was just three little pancakes connected, but it was a huge improvement in his cooking skill) and discussed what to do.  Logan was easily overruled by Patton and Roman who hurried through breakfast to go open their gifts as soon as possible.

Moments later they were kneeling around the coffee table in front of their gifts. Patton tore his open with wild abandon, ripping off the ducky paper and rending the box. Seeing the contents his eyes went wide and he squealed with joy, lovingly plucking the stuffed Winnie the Pooh from the box and giving it a hug.

“I love you, Dad” came a sweet, small voice from the bear.

Patton's eyes opened impossibly wider, welling with tears as he emitted a shriek of pure joy and squeezed the bear again.

“You're a good man, Patton-cake!”

A single tear slid down Patton's cheek, “I will love you forever,” he whispered, holding the bear loosely and reverently in his arms.

“My turn!” Roman said, digging into his box with almost as much enthusiasm as Patton.  His eyes shown with wonderment as he carefully lifted out the medieval torso armor from the box.  The steel was polished to a high shine and in the center section of the chest was a decorative gold lion.

“Oh, you received a cuirass. That should come in handy on your adventures.” Logan said, admiring the practicality of the gift.

“This is... the Most EPIC THING!” Roman proclaimed, “And it matches my outfit!”

Logan rolled his eyes as Patton helped Roman into his new armor.  Ignoring their struggle, Logan carefully lifted the envelope with his name on it and produced a letter opener, carefully slicing open the paper flap.  There was indeed, just a piece of paper inside, and neither Patton's nor Roman's gifts had proved dangerous, so Logan reached in and took out his gift.

It was a beautifully accurate and detailed star chart.  According to the information at the bottom (and his own understanding of astronomy), it showed the stars as they had looked from Thomas's home at the date and approximate time of Logan beating Princey in that rap battle. A slow, inexorable smile lit his face.

“This is... a most thoughtful, if not practical gift.  Who could be responsible?”

“Yes!  We must discover who is responsible for this incredible masterpiece,”  Roman announced, theatrically gesturing to the detailed lion adorning his chest.

“You guys don't already know?”

Roman and Logan looked at a grinning Patton quizzically.

“It was Virgil!  He's the only one who didn't get a gift and each of the gifts is something unique to us and our interests.”

Logan nodded, “He is the most likely culprit, and he's the one with the best motive.”

“What motive?” Roman looked between Logan and Patton, still confused.

“Gratitude.  He's saying thank you for bringing him back when Thomas needed him.”

There was a moment of silence while the three sides contemplated their gifts in this new light.

“We need to do something for him!”  Roman declared, rising from the floor and pulling the others with him.  “We're going to thank him as well!”

Virgil rolled out of bed around noon and shuffled to the shower.  There was some commotion in the commons below, but he ignored it.  If it was that important he would have been called down already. He'd been up until early that morning finishing their gifts; checking and rechecking the accuracy of the star chart, figuring out the right compliments for Patton's bear to say, and the metal work on Princey's cuirass had been excruciatingly detailed, taking him hours to perfect.

Virgil showered, brushed his teeth, did his makeup, and got dressed, finished with the all-important hoodie, before heading downstairs. If they wanted to scold him for leaving Thomas so unprotected, he was as ready as he could be, and if they chose to ignore him, he was prepared for that too.

Walking down the stairs with a yawn, he wasn't prepared for the comfortable dimness of the room. Normally the lights were almost aggressively bright, but someone had closed the window shades, turned off the overhead light, and put light fabric covers over a couple of lamps that were on. It made the room, cozy. 

The kitchen was also in a cozy state of dim lighting, and standing by the counter were Logan, Roman, and Patton.  Virgil figured it was probably an intervention of some kind. At least they hadn't been stupid enough to come into his room this time.  Roman pulling out his chair at the table had to be a power play of some kind. Fine, he'd play along.  Logan handing him his coffee fixed to his personal preference (lots of milk, a little sugar) was probably to ensure he was awake and responsive during this.  Patton placing a plate of delicious looking breakfast food in front of him... well, it's Patton.  Being impossibly kind and feeding his 'kiddos' were what he did best.

Logan sat to his right, Patton on his left, and Princey sat across from him at the table.  

“Hey, Verge, did you sleep okay?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, fine.” He wasn't about to tell them how late he'd stayed up working on their gifts.

“Glad to hear it, kiddo! Do you have any plans today?”  

It was a good thing he didn't because it seems like they would've been interrupted anyway.

“No.  I was just gonna listen to my music.”

“Well, we were thinking of taking a relaxing day too. Why don't you join us for a movie?” Roman asked, somehow hopeful and apprehensive.

“Uh, sure,” Virgil responded, looking around at everyone else in confusion. If they wanted to talk to him, a movie wasn't really the best way.  Oh crap, he'd said yes. Now he was going to have to listen to them arguing over which movie to watch and then sit through whichever movie they chose.

“Great!” Virgil turned to stare at Logan who had just exclaimed so loudly, “Uh, I mean, that is acceptable.”

Virgil finished his, well, not breakfast, more like lunch, and, surprisingly, Logan grabbed the dishes and offered to watch them while they set up the movie.  The anxious side braced himself for the bickering he expected to follow, but instead, Princey went to the TV and turned it on, grabbing a DVD case on the way.  Patton held Virgil's arm and pulled him to sit next to him on the couch.

“I got the nicest gift today! Someone, they didn't leave their name, gave me a Winnie the Pooh bear!  And he compliments me when I give him a hug!”  Patton picked up the bear from its seat on the back of the couch and held him out to Virgil. “Isn't he the best thing!”

Virgil smiled one of his tiny, closed mouth one-side-lifting-slightly smiles. He was glad Patton liked it, and he'd be relieved that the other sides hadn't figured out the gifts were from him, if not for the mischievous twinkle in Patton's eyes.

“Yeah Patton, that's... that's a great bear.”

Patton beamed and held the bear gently to his chest. He leaned over and rested his head on Virgil's shoulder.

“Is this okay kiddo?”

Virgil froze. Patton had been casually physical with Roman and Logan since just before Valentine's day but hadn't done this almost snuggling with him before.

“Sure... you can make yourself comfortable... if you want.”  He was pretty sure he was blushing through his makeup.

Patton scootched a little closer and rested his hand on Virgil's knee, sighing as he relaxed into Virgil's side. The feeling of the moral side relaxing against him made him relax a bit too.  Maybe interventions wouldn't be so bad if they included food and movies and cuddling Patton like this.

Roman finished with the tv and flopped onto the couch on Virgil's other side.

“You almost finished out there Sherlock?  It's movie time!”  the royal called to the kitchen.

“Done!” Logan came into the living room moments later, sitting on the other side of Roman.

A press of the remote and the Black Cauldron started to play. Verge looked over at Roman, but he was already engrossed in the movie.  He looked at Logan who was openly looking back at him quizzically as if to say, is this not to your liking?  Virgil shrugged the shoulder not occupied by Patton and started watching the movie.

While Taran met Gurgi in the forest on screen, Princey was squirming in his seat beside Virgil.  

“You okay, Princey?” Virgil asked, eying Roman with concern and curiosity.

“Just a tad uncomfortable. Can't seem to find a good position.” Roman replied, still shifting about.

“Then find a comfortable position and stop moving. You're being a distraction,” Logan hissed quietly.

Roman huffed quietly with a dramatic eye roll and flopped over, putting his head in Virgil's lap and swinging his legs across Logan's. Logan rested his arms on Princey's legs and continued watching, he had been slowly acclimating to this sort of physical contact.  Virgil froze until he felt Patton squeeze his knee and nuzzle his shoulder.

So that was their game.  This wasn't an elaborate intervention to tell him off for leaving (or, if it was, they were taking their sweet time).  They were making an effort to include him and make him feel comfortable with them. Virgil relaxed and began paying attention to the movie again as Hen Wen ran from the Horn King's dragons.

Logan got up to get drinks and make popcorn right after Taran, the princess, and the bard escaped the castle.  Virgil thought it a rather odd time to do so, since it was about the half-way point of the movie, but he was trying, in his own way.  What stumped the heck out of him was when Logan came back, placing popcorn and beverages on the coffee table, sat on the floor in front of Virgil, close to but not touching him.

Roman grumbled about Logan blocking his view and sat up again, this time putting his arm on the back of the couch around Virgil's shoulders. A light push from Patton had Virgil leaning into Roman, and Roman's arm draped over his shoulders instead.  Patton himself laid his head on Virgil's lap, his hand reaching over the edge of the couch where, Virgil presumed, he held Logan's hand.

No one moved to grab their drink or grab a handful of popcorn.

As the credits began to roll, Patton sat up and stretched, Logan reached for the remote, and Roman moved his arm. Virgil was a bit disappointed. He had really enjoyed the physical closeness and feeling so, well, included with everyone. He moved away from Roman a bit as Logan got up to take out the DVD.  Patton stood up and stretched with an adorable yawn.  Roman got up and offered a hand to Virgil, who took it, not wanting this physical intimacy to end just yet.

“Okay, I need a break after that one,” Patton said.

Virgil nodded, yeah, he got the message, party over.

“How about 15 minutes so I change into my cat onesie and we can all stretch and maybe use the bathroom before the next movie?”

Virgil stared at Patton.  He, wanted to keep doing this?  What about the others? Logan had already put away Black Cauldron and was opening The Nightmare Before Christmas DVD box.  Roman was just smiling at him, still holding his hand even though they'd both been standing for a while now.  Virgil felt another blush spread on his cheeks and creep down his neck to his chest.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Virgil said, a bit hesitantly but genuinely.

“Epic! I'm changing into my pajamas then.” Roman squeezed his hand before releasing it and heading to his room to change.

“Acceptable parameters, though I have no intentions of changing,” Logan said from in front of the tv.

“Fine, more onesie for me!”  Patton sank out to go change, with Roman calling after him, “That's not how it works!”

Virgil ducked his head to hide a grin, not that anyone was looking anyway. As he began climbing the stairs, Logan cleared his throat.

“That was a very thoughtful gift I received this morning.  I hope the bestower knows that I value it greatly.”

Yeah, they totally knew he was responsible for their gifts, and instead of calling him out on it and making him uncomfortable, they'd chosen to acknowledge it indirectly and still show him that they care. Virgil's chest swelled and he felt warm all over.

“I'm sure they do.” He said and continued up the stairs to his room to change.

Several hours later found the four of them on the couch fast asleep in various states of undress, cuddled up to each other as the credits from Fantasia played.  Logan was in sleep pants and a softer button down, necktie slightly askew and glasses on the coffee table.  He was curled around a sleeping Patton in his cat onesie, looking peaceful with a tiny smile on his lips and a Pooh bear in his arms. Virgil was in a different tee shirt and sleep pants, forgoing the hoodie just this once. He was holding onto and held tight by Roman who wore only sleep pants, a blanket from the back of the couch draped over them both.   It was a peaceful night's rest for all.

Additional Author’s Note: I literally watched The Black Cauldron for the first time ever today because of this fic.  Now that I have finally finished, I’m going to watch Winnie The Pooh: Boo to You Too, my favorite Halloween movie.