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Mcpenatgon

Dreamland

Overworked and Underwhelmed (Reboot Wally fic)

Overworked and Underwhelmed (Chapter one)

Odd Dynamic (chapter two)

The date (DRAFT, UNFINISHED)

Non-fandom writings

Pseudo-historical arranged marriage (Eric and Nicolas)

D&D (Shipsplash)

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Love letter to artists

Mouthwashing rant

#masterlist #my writing #fanfic #pinned post

syntheticcy

Dreamland (WH FIC)

You find yourself in a bright sunny atmosphere. The sun, weakens your vision, but only for a moment. As your eyes adjust to the blinding light, you see a tree swaying above you. You feel the grass beneath your fingers and you slightly relax your hand. Oddly enough, the grass doesn't prick you or tickle. It doesn't even make your palm itchy. It's soft and doughy, and you sink into it. Like a pile of blankets. You begin to hear faint laughter from afar and attempt to sit up.

However, you find that your body feels heavy. You make another attempt to shift your position, but that weighted feeling never leaves you. It's as if your body is asleep. Soon, the rustling of leaves and grass fills your ears and your eyes dart to the sound. Yet it's out of your view. The laughter has quieted down and an intelligible voice follows. It sounds familiar but you can't quite put your finger on it just yet.

You try to focus on the voice, although its owner is inscrutable. You've definitely heard this voice before, in your heart, you know that. Still one comes to your mind. A small shadow creeps closer and its words barely become clearer.

"-At you? Wh-"

Just as you're able to understand a few words, static creeps into your ears. Drowning out most of what the voice is saying.

"Sleep-"

Your vision blurs and your body becomes lighter. You try to sit up again, but you feel lightheaded and feel yourself being pulled down. Immediately you close your eyes, gripping the grass under you. Hoping to steady yourself. The blanket-like texture of the grass becomes more pillow-esque and you sink deeper into the floor. Concerned you try to call for help, but nothing comes out.

It's as if your mouth has been sewn shut and your vocal cords are numb. Finally, you feel someone or something touch your shoulder. It sends a wave of stinging paresthesia through you. The shadow pauses, and suddenly you feel a soft breath on your ear.

"Wake up, Neighbor."

You shoot up from your bed and grab at your heart. The bright light from outside shines into your window and onto you. You pant and frantically look around. You see clothes strewn about on the floor and a mess on your desk. It's your room, and it was all just a dream. A weird, creepy, but almost soothing dream.

You've been having this recurring dream for ages now. If only you could figure out why. You don't have any memories like that, and you sure as hell don't recall anyone who's called you "Neighbor" with an alluring voice in the past. You know for a fact you'd remember a person like that. Before you have any more time to dwell on your thoughts, your phone goes off.

It's from your close friend, you answer, and are quickly reminded that you're supposed to help them move out today. You check the time and you're late. Not by a lot but it's still noticeable. You leap out of bed and get ready, ending the call and rushing to grab your keys. As you run out of the house and head to theirs, you can't help but think about your dream one last time.

You spend most of the day helping them sort through their stuff. Helping them choose what to keep and what to throw out. By the time mid-late day rolls around, you're placing boxes by the door so your friend can load up the massive U-haul in their driveway. You're able to get a decent amount of things done. But you're nowhere close to being finished. In fact, you've barely made a dent with all the stuff downstairs. Both you and your friend are exhausted and decide to take a break for a while.

Talking about your lives and what it's to be like without each other so close by. You almost wish you could go with them. But you can't bring yourself to uproot yourself for a place you don't even know anything about. You've spoken about maybe moving down the line. But you haven't fully thought out where you'd go exactly. Or what you'd do when you'd get to said place. While you don't have many qualms about moving, the money and effort it takes, does weigh on you.

Not to mention finding a job, creating a whole new community for yourself, and having to explore the place to get a basic understanding of just where you are and where you're going— It's a lot. And it's a big step. There's so much out there and you're so oblivious to what it could all mean for you. Would you even stay in that place for very long? Would you care for the apartment you would be in? What does the passage of time mean to you in a place like that?

All the things you think about when it comes to moving, yet none of them lead anywhere until you start doing something about them all. Just as your mind starts to wander, your friend gently nudges you. "I'm going to start putting the last boxes in the kitchen into the van. Can you get the boxes from upstairs in the meantime? We can sort them after we finish down here."

You nod and get to work, heading upstairs. You bring down box after box, taking them from the bedroom to the living room downstairs. Then you do the same with the bathroom and closet. Just when you think you have everything, you hear something thump. You snap your head around and step back. Only to notice it's your phone on the floor. You make a face and pick it up. You go to put it away but it goes off.

It's from an unknown caller, probably some telemarketer again. You decline it, but they immediately call back. You decline it again but they call back just a few seconds after. "Eugh, what the fuck?" You mumble under your breath and end the call again. Then put your phone on silent. They'll stop calling eventually.

You hear your friend call out to you and tell you that they put all the boxes away. Except for the ones you brought down of course. They walk over to the stairs and ask if you're okay with grabbing the stuff in the attic while they sort. You reluctantly agree, wanting to get the heavy lifting out of the way so you can get back to sorting. You find the attic and pull down its ladder, climbing up it. Once you get inside, you're hit with dust. You cough and look around.

There aren't too many boxes. But it'll still be a pain to bring down. There's a small window on the other side of the room. Softly lighting the room, it's a bit dark outside but it helps to find the main light. To make it easier on your lungs, you open the window and take a breath of the fresh night air. Before getting back to the job at hand. You carefully pull off blankets from a few boxes and fold them up, before taking them down the ladder. Mentally reminding yourself to tell your friend to wash them.

You bring a few boxes down and stumble across one odd beat-up box. You move a few boxes out of the way and pull it closer. Squinting as you read the faded and smudged label on it. "WH VHS". Your friend never mentioned keeping any VHS tapes. Let alone any called "WH". Whatever. It's not like it's your business to snoop. You bring the last few boxes down. Taking the VHS tapes last.

As you come downstairs carrying the last load of big boxes. You see that your friend has already started to load things up again. You put down the VHS tapes box and help with the boxes again. Now that all the stuff on the first floor is packed away you guys can sort the final boxes together. You each go through them and end up getting rid of most of the stuff from the attic.

Minus the VHS tapes. Your friend laments that as much as they would love to keep the box, it's too beat up and they don't really have a use for the contents inside. That is until an idea strikes them. "Say, you like puppets right?" You raise a brow and lean on the wall. "I guess so. I like 'The Muppets'. The movie 'The Muppets: Most Wanted' was always a favorite of mine when it came out a few years ago."

Your friend smiles and pushes the VHS box closer to you. "Why don't you keep this then? It's an old Puppet TV show. You'd probably like it. The characters at least." You shrug it off, rejecting the box at first. But when they plead with you to at least keep it safe for them, you accept it. After that, you put the box in your car and spend the rest of the night helping them with all the boxes, and get some food after. What feels like forever, laughing and smiling with your friend, you both wish each other well, and go home. Prepping for tomorrow.

You shower and get ready for bed. Feeling exhausted, from all the work you did. As you lie down for the night, you almost fall asleep instantly. But as soon as you close your eyes, you open them again. The same tree, greeting you from the night before. This time you shut your eyes again. Wishing for a different dream.

The voice from before begins to grow in volume again and you try to ignore it. It crackles with each word, leaving behind a muffled mess of jumbled-up sounds. You hear it again.

"Neighbor.."

You pretend to be sleeping. Hoping it'll lose interest and go away. Yet, it persists like a roach.

"-The floor?"

Your body locks up and you remain still as ever. You hear the voice approaching. The quiet steps inch closer. Just itching to get closer to you.

"Neighbor."

It repeats, like some sort of siren's call. Tempting you to open your eyes and look into theirs.

Your body starts to feel tired again but you fight it. You don't want to fall asleep with this creature that's been haunting your dreams. They sound so sweet and monotone. It could almost lull you to sleep if you weren't so scared by how static-y it sounds. It gets louder and you can feel the entity kneel next to you. Touching your shoulder once more. This time lightly shaking it, perhaps worried.

Still, you won't open your eyes, and responding is out of the question. Then again, it's not like you can talk. The voice starts up again.

"Wake up."

It sounds more distraught than before. Maybe it is just trying to help? But why? What for? Why are they shaking this time? Why are they becoming more antsy? The entity lightly shoves your shoulder.

"Wake up, Neighbor."

Once again you open your eyes and it's day. You're not as freaked out as before. But you're still a bit shaken up. The shaking and shoving feel a bit more aggressive than usual. Sure the dream is creepy but there's never been any shoving before as far as you can remember. It unnerves you, but you try to brush it off. It's just a dream after all. You get out of bed. Not wanting to dwell on it. You go about your day, per usual. Until you remember the box of VHS tapes still in your car, without thinking you find yourself bringing it inside and setting up a little VCR.

Curious about what's inside the VHS tapes. You finish setting up and open the box, finding a little more than just a few tapes. There are posters and plushies of this blue-haired, yellow-skinned, puppet. He's labeled as "The most!" on the majority of the posters. As well as a "Darling" on one random broadcast poster. It seems like your friend really did care for the show. Especially with all the promotional material that's in the box.

It may have been some random show to you, but to them it seemed like it was everything.. Now that you think about it, one of their exes kinda looks like the puppet. Peculiar. Must've watched it a lot during the early developmental stages of their life. Either way, you pop in a tape and sit back. Watching the screen slowly come to life. Wondering what made this show so special to them?

The screen flickers on and takes a moment to boot up. When it does, you're greeted with a gorgeous view of the sky. The sun beaming down on a tiny town with glee. Big bold text slowly fades in, becoming bigger and bigger until it takes up your screen.

"Welcome Home"

Under the text in smaller letters read,

"The puppet show"

The camera pans down to a bright blue and red house. On the lawn of the house, is that same blue-haired puppet you saw on the posters and merchandise in the box. He's focused on his canvas, painting away without a care. Instantly you connect the dots— "This is that 'Darling' they were talking about." You mutter to yourself. On cue, the puppet perks up and shifts his gaze to the camera, as if he heard you.

Creepy, but it's just a coincidence. He greets the camera with what you think is a smile. "Hello, you! My name is Wally Darling, and today we are painting Home. But there's just one problem, I'm missing the color green. I can't paint the grass without green." He sounds lifeless and unnerving, that voice actor must not be too happy with his role. You probably wouldn't be either, you'd want to do bigger things as an actor too. Not a small children's show.

As he goes on and on about the color green and how he lacks it, your mind starts to drift. Not that interested in a supposed educational children's show. You know your friend loved this show as a child, but what specifically cemented it into their mind? They spoke about the characters as if they were their family, and as if the neighborhood was their home. You look off to the side, resting your head on the couch. Maybe it had to do with how the characters conducted themselves and how they treated the "viewer".

"Hey."

They seem to talk to the camera constantly. It makes sense, it would keep kids engaged. Maybe that's it. Maybe they were lonely as a child and used the show as an outlet? It's not uncommon and in fact, most lonely children often choose escapism as a coping mechanism. That could be why it has such a deep-rooted place in their heart. Maybe this is why they wanted you to keep the tapes.

"Hello."

So they could share a piece themself with you. That way you still have them just a few steps away at all times. Did they know how much moving away would affect you? Did they see how heartbroken you were to get the news? You begin to shut your eyes, lost in thought. You tune out the show almost completely. It's not like you don't care about the show. It's just that your best friend is out there, exploring the world and you're just in your hometown. Doing nothing but lazing about and occasionally working.

"Excuse me, Neighbor.."

Sure, you have hobbies and other friends. But they don't fulfill you as much as you say they do. You want something new. Something fun, something fulfilling. Something that gives you a purpose and a will to get up in the morning. You don't want to live like this forever. There has to be something out there for you. There has to be more to life than this.

A loud ringing comes from your phone, snapping you out of it. You search for your phone. Shutting off the alarm. You don't remember setting any alarm. Looking closer you see it's labeled "@:)". You try to shrug it off, but that little symbol perturbs you. It's an oddly specific label for an alarm. Still, you try to ignore it and redirect your attention to the TV. Hoping it'll soothe your frayed nerves.

That stupid alarm caught you off guard more than you'd like to admit. Wally looks content explaining how to paint landscapes and by the looks of it, found green paint. He probably mixed the color nevertheless, it's there, on the canvas, and on his palette. He turns his head and canvas to you. His creepy beady eyes linger on you for what feels like a lifetime. You assume he really wants you to see the canvas but the staring is not needed.

The silence is deafening and makes your skin crawl. It's as if he's waiting for your approval. You shift in your seat, struggling to be comfortable with the intense staring. If you didn't know any better, you'd think his eyes are widening. You break eye contact, not too ecstatic to be in a staring contest with a puppet from what seems to be the 80s maybe 90s? You look back at the screen after a few minutes and you swear he's closer to the screen.

You try to keep a straight face. "This has to be the longest pause in children's entertainment history." You think to yourself. Before yielding and complementing the landscape he painted. "Nice... Painting. Good- Great color choice. I really, uh, like the.. The, um." You pause trying to think of something to compliment. With all due respect, it looks like a 5th grader painted the landscape. Making your attempt to point out its "beauty" all the harder.

"Grass. Yeah, I like the grass. Really goes well with the house. Just one of the best things I've seen since Van Gogh." You feel awkward talking to your TV screen but silence is extremely uncomfortable. It's probably meant to be relaxing to children, but to you, it feels like you're being held at gunpoint. It's better just to say random things and "conversate" to fill the dead air. Suddenly the camera zooms out, and Wally turns back you. "Thank you for your words, Neighbor."

"Oh, hell no." You caught yourself whispering and shaking your head. Perfect timing or not, you definitely don't like how realistic that felt or how the camera zoomed out. He really did get closer to the camera. You try to make excuses, refusing to believe in any paranormal mystic-magic nonsense. But all you can think of is how you need a crucifix and a priest stat. Not to mention that you probably need to burn these tapes and probably your TV too. In fact, you start to think about how fun it would be to move.

You could move to where your friend is and say the movers must've lost your tapes. Yeah, that can work. It will work. You scramble for your phone. Nervously looking back at the TV, hoping the puppet doesn't look at you. Only for your phone to start going off suddenly. It's your friend calling you. They must've made it to their new place. You can already feel that creepy ass puppet staring at you and you fight with every fiber of your being to not look up.

You answer your phone and rush to stand. Accidentally catching a glimpse of the screen and seeing that thousand-yard glare. Which there is just no need for. Seriously it's obsessive and frankly concerning that it's even possible. You have a feeling this guy isn't too fond of distractions or people who can't focus for longer than two minutes. You exit the living room and clutch your phone.

syntheticcy

It's been ten thousand years... Not really, but it feels like it! Anyways, I posted chapter two to Dreamland a few days? (Might be a few weeks) ago on AO3. Originally, I did plan to post it here but honestly, I don't want to deal with reformatting everything. I'm LAZY.

I still write about WH, just not a lot anymore. It's mostly on the back burner for now since I'm focusing on OC related stuff. Don't worry, I'm not going to turn this into an OC blog or anything like that.

I know I've been largely AWOL other than a few reblogs but I'm alive. This isn't a "I'M COMING BACK, BE AWARE" post, it's more akin to me dropping a penny in the middle of the city. If people find said penny, awesome, and if they don't, then that's equally as awesome.

Oh and one last thing

VOTE SENSHI ON THE TUMBLR SEXY MAN POLL.

Can't even lie this is a fat reason as to why I wanted to drop chapter two here as well, I fucking love Senshi. #NEEDALLOFTHAT Even if he doesn't win, I'll still love him. PLUS IT MEANS HE GOT SECOND PLACE AND THATS MORE THAN GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME.

Update: Just realized my guy lost but I'm still happy he got second place