jamestrmtx

[jamestrmtx]

Me when I stop writing stinky Undertale Sans/Reader fanfiction to write plentiful Deltarune Tenna/Reader content. 🥰

(JK, of course. I'll still finish writing for the silly bone man.)

A low-effort meme inspired by a comment just recently!

The Sun Always Shines on TV

(Tenna x GN! Reader)

Chapters: 1/28

Fandom: Deltarune (Video Game)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Tenna (Deltarune)/Reader, Tenna (Deltarune)/You

Characters: Tenna (Deltarune), Reader

Additional Tags: Deltarune Chapter Four Spoilers, Post-Deltarune Chapter Four, Gender-Neutral Reader-Insert, Gender-neutral Reader, Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Tenna Has Abandonment Issues (Deltarune), Tenna Has a Tail (Deltarune), Submissive Tenna (Deltarune), Possessive Tenna (Deltarune), Touch-Starved Tenna (Deltarune), No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, Tenna is a Malewife, First Meetings, Awkward Conversations, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Blushing, Flirting, Yearning, Pining, Fluff and Humor, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Smut, Developing Relationship, Roommates, Slow Build, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending

Summary:

As Hometown's school counselor, you've heard plenty of stories, but none quite like Kris's.

After months of getting to know them and navigating the effects of a recent issue with their mother, Kris opens up about the Dark World and how their friend Susie feels like the sole constant in a life full of changes.

Gaining the trust of a teenager with divorced parents hasn't been easy, yet the favour they ask when they knock on your door one morning is simple: take their old television and keep it at your place, since it means a lot to them and they don't want Toriel to throw it out.

You accept, but then they explain the television is a man named Tenna, so you plug him in and try to strike up a conversation.

Surprisingly, it works, and a new life begins.

Once alone with no set goal for the future, you now live alongside an eccentric show host, communicating via channel changes in the Light World, and eventually, by sneaking into the school's supply closet to jump into the Dark World and go on a date with him.

When things get serious between you, a decision has to be made: try to bring his Dark World form into the Light World, or risk staying in the Dark World with him while as a Lightner.

• • • • •

Chapter One | One More Time

          It's a Tuesday morning, and the day has been a challenge.

          You wouldn't say you simply woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but that you crawled from under it after clawing your way out of the boogeyman's grasp.

          Long story short, you woke up with a migraine after roughly five hours of intermittent sleep and while shedding cold sweat, slipped on the shower and twisted your ankle upon seeing a big hairy spider on the ceiling, and walked into the kitchen to see the refrigerator stopped running since way before you fell asleep, resulting in a massive puddle all around it and a bunch of ruined groceries you bought the day before.

          And that's only the beginning, because now you'll have to spend some of your well-earned savings on a new fridge (maybe fix it, if you're lucky), buy more groceries, and get the pain in your ankle checked.

          “Ugh,” you mumble, bringing a hand to your forehead to rub the ache away.

          It's going to be a looong day after work, and you're already regretting it.

          Knock-knock.

          Speaking of regrets, you wish you could turn back time to ring in the school and tell the principal you wouldn't make it today. Yet, of course, you thought you could walk off the pain and lessen the ache on both your head and ankle with some painkillers. To your luck, it didn't work. The throbbing feels like it's getting worse the more you walk around the school, the migraine won't go away, and you've had to endure the first few hours since clocking in by catching up on your duties as effectively as you can, making lesson plans, attending an IEP meeting, and scheduling other meetings with some parents for this Friday and next week. Now, you're meant to meet a parent in less than an hour, and you dread putting on your best face forward won't be enough to leave a good impression, because every coworker who's seen you today has noticed you don't feel all that great.

          Knock-knock.

          “Come in,” you call out, upon hearing a repeat of the soft knocking on the door.

          Kris walks into the office, and you have to check the time on the clock on your desk to make sure you didn't miss a meeting or anything of the sort.

          Just to be safe, you greet them with a smile and a good morning, then shuffle through the documents next to your desk for their files.

          “Good morning,” Kris signs, sitting on the chair in front of your desk when you offer them to. “Miss Alphys gave me permission before we go to lunch,” they continue, giving you a slip of paper with the teacher's messy handwriting. “I have a favour to ask.”

          “Oh?” You check the paper, store it away in Kris's file, and frown at them when you're all set. “What's wrong? Are you alright?”

          They smile, putting a quick end to your worry with a decisive ‘I’m okay’.

          “I just…” they sign, trailing off. “I wanted to ask if you want a TV?”

          You raise an eyebrow, prop an elbow on the desk, and fold your other arm next to it, resting your head on your palm and setting the other one down on their file.

          You moved in less than a year ago, and your earnings at your previous job weren't all that great, so…

          You actually could use a television, just so your eyes don't burn and your neck doesn't sprain from how you now watch the news and your favourite shows on the small screen of your phone instead of the big flat screen at your old place.

          “Um…” It's no doubt a strange reason for Kris to excuse themself from class, but then again…

          They rarely do things like this.

          “Are you sure?” you ask.

          Kris nods, smiling wider.

          And that's something they rarely do, too — and so warmly, at that, so you figure there's something more important going on.

          Even the nice bunny lady at the diner across the street offered to give you a part-time job if you needed the extra cash, so it's not like you're a complete stranger to people's kindness to someone who recently moved in, despite also being the only other human next to Kris in a town full of monsters, although… 

          This is different.

          “It's a CRT,” they explain, pointing a finger over their shoulder. “And it's outside, so I can bring it in here, if you wanna take it home with you.”

          It's strange to have them use their voice.

          Oftentimes during your meetings with Kris, they mostly choose sign languages to communicate.

          At rare moments like these, you've learned that they're giving out the extra mile for something meaningful to them.

          “It’s a little old, but—”

          “Of course, dear.”

          Kris immediately seems more relaxed at the use of ‘dear’ instead of their name, yet it wasn't always like that.

          Getting them out of their shell was an incredible task, and you're still not quite sure how it happened.

          “Even if it only works with antennas?”

          “Yes.” You laugh. “It could be in black-and-white, and I'll still take it, y’know? Not only because I don't have a TV, but because you said it's a favour.”

          Outside of school, you've taken up extra jobs to make ends meet, and that's how your current relationship with them took shape.

          One early morning a couple of months ago, Toriel showed up at your office to tell you how much better Kris seemed to be handling their emotions, ever since you came along as the school counselor. So, from that day forward once a week — specifically, every Friday after school — Kris shows up at your office for a therapy session of sorts (after receiving approval from the principal, of course). Offering your time after clocking out and showing your interest in their stories of the Dark World has made them admit they now see you as part of their family, and that they feel a sense of comfort when you call them ‘dear’ instead of ‘Kris’. You were even invited to their birthday party not too long ago, and Toriel welcomed you without reluctance. At one point, it didn't feel right to keep seeing your meetings with them after school as a job, with how much they've opened up to you.

          By then, it was time to say what was on your mind, and Toriel took it in stride. 

          She stifled a giggle and told you that you were being silly for feeling guilty that she was still paying you, in spite of the arrangement becoming more personal than professional.

          She might have been the topic of conversation during the first couple of weeks, yet she seems to be making bigger efforts to understand Kris's moods nowadays, and you've been hoping a repeat of last time doesn't happen, more so for Kris's sake, than for the effort of having to go through that process again.

          “Let me help you,” you tell them, when they stand up from their seat and walk back to the door. “If it's a CRT… It has to be heavy,” you remark, and they chuckle. “Did you carry it all the way here by yourself?”

          “Susie helped out,” they state, opening the door and holding it for you while you pass. “She says she doesn't like school counselors, so she left before I knocked on the door and then—”

          Upon stepping out of the office, Kris's gaze widens, and they come to a rough stop.

          The television they mentioned is plugged in to the socket next to your door.

          It's on screensaver, with the DVD logo bouncing around.

          For a moment, it seems like they're holding a staring contest with the television, and you swear it feels like the television responds to the glare Kris directs at its screen by flickering to signal error for a split second.

          “By the way,” they sign, huffing. “It's not… a normal TV, so be careful, and don't get spooked.”

          You nod along for them to carry on, kind of used to the oddity of their stories by now.

          “It wasn't plugged in when I left it here, and maybe someone just wanted to try it out, but…”

          They meet your gaze, red eyes showing an amount of concern that's only heightened the more stories they've shared to you about the Dark World.

          “If anything weird happens, it's probably because of that,” they explain, unplugging the television. “In the Dark World, he's actually like a celebrity. His name’s Tenna, and he wanted me to find someone to adopt him, since nobody watches him at home anymore, and he wants company.” They stop to glance back at you, a hint of reluctance in the light of their eyes before they sigh and look away. “Mom’s been thinking of buying a new TV, and I don't want him to get thrown out.”

          “So, he's like a friend?” you ask, hoping to erase the gloom in their eyes before they go off to lunch. “It's okay to be worried about him!”

          Kris looks back to you, a smaller smile breaking the uneasy grimace and easing the furrow in their brow.

          “Promise me you'll take care of him?”

          You nod and offer your arms out, letting them walk up to you for a hug.

          “I promise.”

 • • • • •

          “Um…”

          Many hours later, after contacting someone who could fix the refrigerator, going to the doctor to get yourself checked and treated, and buying fewer groceries in case the fridge acts up again, you're home.

          And now that you're finally able to rest, you've brought Kris's television into your living room, kneeling in front of it to — somehow — try to start a conversation with... Tenna.

          “Hello?”

          Stars, you're thankful you live alone.

          Otherwise, you don't know how you'd explain to a partner or a roommate why you're trying to chat with an inanimate object instead of them.

          “Maybe I need to… turn you on first?” You consider your choice of words and immediately regret them. “Okay. Not like that, so don't get scared. Just… In a literal, electrical sort of sense. You get me?”

          No response.

          You figured as much.

          Still, you stand up, fetch the plug behind the television, and connect it to the socket on the wall next to it.

          Finally, you kneel once more, scoot closer, and press on the power button.

          “Um…”

          Again, this seems ridiculous as hell.

          “Hello.”

          The channel it's currently on is simply loud static, and — for a moment — it feels like it will stay that way, until…

          “Good evening, everybody,” a weather reporter says, his smile big and bright. “Better get your umbrellas ready for tomorrow! It's gonna be—”

          The channel changes on its own.

          “Gusto en conocerte,” a Hispanic woman from a random soap opera greets, offering her hand out to a man — shirtless, for whatever reason — showing up at her door with a six-pack of abs and a six-pack of beer.

          The rest of the audio dissolves into background noise as you process what's just happened, and you even look down at your hands to make sure they haven't acted on their own to drive you insane.

          “Uh…” You blink away the confusion for a few seconds — eyes still fixed on your palms — and then reply with, “Nice to meet you, too?”

          The channel changes to a kid's show, where a group of children are smiling and giggling, bouncing around with a happy clown lady.

          “You're… Mister Tenna, aren't you?”

          The channel changes once more.

          “Correct!” a game show announcer screams, pointing a finger at a goat woman lost in excitement, having won the jackpot prize.

          Now, it's sort of a horror movie scenario more than a happy-go-lucky one, as the channels start to change one after the other, allowing only letters to slip by until… 

          Mister Tenna spells out your name, letter by letter.

          “Y— Yes,” you reply, and you gulp down the sudden fear that's climbed its way to your throat. “That's my name! Kris told you, didn't they?”

          Static, then a change of channel.

          “Incorrect!” the same game show announcer screams, now pointing a finger at a goat man drowning in sorrow, having lost all his bets.

          “Uh…”

          That answer doesn't exactly help with how creepy it feels to be communicating with an entity that's spelled out your name perfectly through quick channel changes.

          “Then… How?”

          He switches to a laugh track that follows while two black men — assumedly brothers or in some way related, if you remember the sitcom correctly — are having a discussion.

          Channel switch.

          “Name?” a different show announcer asks.

          And yet another.

          “Tag!” a red monster named Elmo exclaims, while… tagging himself.

          Your eyes widen at the realization, and you stare down at yourself to see you're still wearing your work uniform, reminding you it's been over sixteen hours since you woke up.

          At the reminder you have to sleep soon and be ready for another day, you aim to look for your phone and check the time, but…

          “Good evening, Hometown! It's currently ten thirty-three, and—”

          The channel changes to static, and — for a moment — you swear you see the freaking television blush on screen.

          “Um…”

          You seriously need to expand your vocabulary if you want to impress Kris's astonishingly vocal friend, and yet…

          You know it will be difficult to get used to the oddity of this situation.

          “Wait,” you blurt, and then you realize this practically means you have a roommate now. “Does that mean you'll be able to see me whenever you're turned—” You cough, clearing your throat. “I mean… Whenever you're switched on?”

          Several changes of channel ensue, like he's having a hard time finding the right answer.

          “Yes,” an ecstatic, pale, chubby, and blonde woman exclaims, jumping into the arms of an equally ecstatic, red-haired, muscular, tanned woman as she accepts her proposal.

          “Okay, so…”

          Goodbye to the days you watched television in nothing but your underwear.

          “Good to know.”

          A frown twists your mouth as you consider his situation here in the… Light World?

          “So, that means I should keep you plugged into electricity whenever I can, if that means you'll still be conscious, but you won't see me?”

          Tenna replies by changing to a channel with a teenage cat girl shrugging, rolling her eyes, and saying, “Ugh, whatever. You decide.”

          And then, he clarifies he means that in an excited manner rather than broody, since he follows it up with the same kids’ channel, showing the group of children cheering at the same clown while she crafts different shapes with a bunch of balloons.

          “Uh…” You smile. “Cool! Then, I will. I guess a blackout is kind of like a… Bad day? A coma? A small shock? A… heart attack?” You hum in thought and rub your chin, trying to search for the best way to describe it. “Something like that? You don’t have to answer right now. I'm just… wondering how this works.”

          You figure this is a terrible first impression with how many ‘buts’, ‘ums’, and ‘uhs’, and even a forsaken ‘something like that’ you're replying with, but — again — this will take some time getting used to.

          “Mister Tenna,” you call out, noticing you've kept yourself silent for a bit too long, based on the fact he's changed the channel to one on a commercial break. “Could I ask you one last thing, before I wash up and go to bed?”

          He immediately responds by changing the channel to a blue bird monster trying to act cool by asking ‘What's up?’, and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

          “I know we've only just met, but…” You swallow hard and close your eyes tightly, letting out breath. “Does this mean we can be friends?”

          Oh, no.

          Oh, crap.

          You've done something wrong, because Tenna literally starts shaking — as in — the television goes silent, and into a bright white screen, tumbling left and right like there's an earthquake and it's only affecting him.

          Fight or flight immediately kicks in, obliging you to stand up and step back, fists held up in front of you and legs trembling like you're ready to do both things at once.

          “ABSOLUTELY,” a hyped man's voice shouts, and a — listen to this — a giant red flower blooms from the center of the screen like something from a lucid dream. 

          “Uhhh…” you drone, falling back to your knees like you're witnessing an epiphany.

          This is probably the equivalent of Tenna going into full static, so you hope he doesn't judge you too much for your reaction.

          “C— Cool.”

          Smooth.

• • • • •

[Link to the full story on AO3.]

Author's Note:

Sharing at least chapter 1 on Tumblr! The rest will be up on AO3 (uncensored, rated M), and on Wattpad and Quotev (censored, rated T).

I find posting long fics on Tumblr a bit clumsy, so for now, you can see bi-weekly updates for this story on AO3!

[jamestrmtx]

The Sun Always Shines on TV

(Tenna x GN! Reader)

Chapters: 1/28

Fandom: Deltarune (Video Game)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Tenna (Deltarune)/Reader, Tenna (Deltarune)/You

Characters: Tenna (Deltarune), Reader

Additional Tags: Deltarune Chapter Four Spoilers, Post-Deltarune Chapter Four, Gender-Neutral Reader-Insert, Gender-neutral Reader, Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Tenna Has Abandonment Issues (Deltarune), Tenna Has a Tail (Deltarune), Submissive Tenna (Deltarune), Possessive Tenna (Deltarune), Touch-Starved Tenna (Deltarune), No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, Tenna is a Malewife, First Meetings, Awkward Conversations, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Blushing, Flirting, Yearning, Pining, Fluff and Humor, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Smut, Developing Relationship, Roommates, Slow Build, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending

Summary:

As Hometown's school counselor, you've heard plenty of stories, but none quite like Kris's.

After months of getting to know them and navigating the effects of a recent issue with their mother, Kris opens up about the Dark World and how their friend Susie feels like the sole constant in a life full of changes.

Gaining the trust of a teenager with divorced parents hasn't been easy, yet the favour they ask when they knock on your door one morning is simple: take their old television and keep it at your place, since it means a lot to them and they don't want Toriel to throw it out.

You accept, but then they explain the television is a man named Tenna, so you plug him in and try to strike up a conversation.

Surprisingly, it works, and a new life begins.

Once alone with no set goal for the future, you now live alongside an eccentric show host, communicating via channel changes in the Light World, and eventually, by sneaking into the school's supply closet to jump into the Dark World and go on a date with him.

When things get serious between you, a decision has to be made: try to bring his Dark World form into the Light World, or risk staying in the Dark World with him while as a Lightner.

• • • • •

Chapter One | One More Time

          It's a Tuesday morning, and the day has been a challenge.

          You wouldn't say you simply woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but that you crawled from under it after clawing your way out of the boogeyman's grasp.

          Long story short, you woke up with a migraine after roughly five hours of intermittent sleep and while shedding cold sweat, slipped on the shower and twisted your ankle upon seeing a big hairy spider on the ceiling, and walked into the kitchen to see the refrigerator stopped running since way before you fell asleep, resulting in a massive puddle all around it and a bunch of ruined groceries you bought the day before.

          And that's only the beginning, because now you'll have to spend some of your well-earned savings on a new fridge (maybe fix it, if you're lucky), buy more groceries, and get the pain in your ankle checked.

          “Ugh,” you mumble, bringing a hand to your forehead to rub the ache away.

          It's going to be a looong day after work, and you're already regretting it.

          Knock-knock.

          Speaking of regrets, you wish you could turn back time to ring in the school and tell the principal you wouldn't make it today. Yet, of course, you thought you could walk off the pain and lessen the ache on both your head and ankle with some painkillers. To your luck, it didn't work. The throbbing feels like it's getting worse the more you walk around the school, the migraine won't go away, and you've had to endure the first few hours since clocking in by catching up on your duties as effectively as you can, making lesson plans, attending an IEP meeting, and scheduling other meetings with some parents for this Friday and next week. Now, you're meant to meet a parent in less than an hour, and you dread putting on your best face forward won't be enough to leave a good impression, because every coworker who's seen you today has noticed you don't feel all that great.

          Knock-knock.

          “Come in,” you call out, upon hearing a repeat of the soft knocking on the door.

          Kris walks into the office, and you have to check the time on the clock on your desk to make sure you didn't miss a meeting or anything of the sort.

          Just to be safe, you greet them with a smile and a good morning, then shuffle through the documents next to your desk for their files.

          “Good morning,” Kris signs, sitting on the chair in front of your desk when you offer them to. “Miss Alphys gave me permission before we go to lunch,” they continue, giving you a slip of paper with the teacher's messy handwriting. “I have a favour to ask.”

          “Oh?” You check the paper, store it away in Kris's file, and frown at them when you're all set. “What's wrong? Are you alright?”

          They smile, putting a quick end to your worry with a decisive ‘I’m okay’.

          “I just…” they sign, trailing off. “I wanted to ask if you want a TV?”

          You raise an eyebrow, prop an elbow on the desk, and fold your other arm next to it, resting your head on your palm and setting the other one down on their file.

          You moved in less than a year ago, and your earnings at your previous job weren't all that great, so…

          You actually could use a television, just so your eyes don't burn and your neck doesn't sprain from how you now watch the news and your favourite shows on the small screen of your phone instead of the big flat screen at your old place.

          “Um…” It's no doubt a strange reason for Kris to excuse themself from class, but then again…

          They rarely do things like this.

          “Are you sure?” you ask.

          Kris nods, smiling wider.

          And that's something they rarely do, too — and so warmly, at that, so you figure there's something more important going on.

          Even the nice bunny lady at the diner across the street offered to give you a part-time job if you needed the extra cash, so it's not like you're a complete stranger to people's kindness to someone who recently moved in, despite also being the only other human next to Kris in a town full of monsters, although… 

          This is different.

          “It's a CRT,” they explain, pointing a finger over their shoulder. “And it's outside, so I can bring it in here, if you wanna take it home with you.”

          It's strange to have them use their voice.

          Oftentimes during your meetings with Kris, they mostly choose sign languages to communicate.

          At rare moments like these, you've learned that they're giving out the extra mile for something meaningful to them.

          “It’s a little old, but—”

          “Of course, dear.”

          Kris immediately seems more relaxed at the use of ‘dear’ instead of their name, yet it wasn't always like that.

          Getting them out of their shell was an incredible task, and you're still not quite sure how it happened.

          “Even if it only works with antennas?”

          “Yes.” You laugh. “It could be in black-and-white, and I'll still take it, y’know? Not only because I don't have a TV, but because you said it's a favour.”

          Outside of school, you've taken up extra jobs to make ends meet, and that's how your current relationship with them took shape.

          One early morning a couple of months ago, Toriel showed up at your office to tell you how much better Kris seemed to be handling their emotions, ever since you came along as the school counselor. So, from that day forward once a week — specifically, every Friday after school — Kris shows up at your office for a therapy session of sorts (after receiving approval from the principal, of course). Offering your time after clocking out and showing your interest in their stories of the Dark World has made them admit they now see you as part of their family, and that they feel a sense of comfort when you call them ‘dear’ instead of ‘Kris’. You were even invited to their birthday party not too long ago, and Toriel welcomed you without reluctance. At one point, it didn't feel right to keep seeing your meetings with them after school as a job, with how much they've opened up to you.

          By then, it was time to say what was on your mind, and Toriel took it in stride. 

          She stifled a giggle and told you that you were being silly for feeling guilty that she was still paying you, in spite of the arrangement becoming more personal than professional.

          She might have been the topic of conversation during the first couple of weeks, yet she seems to be making bigger efforts to understand Kris's moods nowadays, and you've been hoping a repeat of last time doesn't happen, more so for Kris's sake, than for the effort of having to go through that process again.

          “Let me help you,” you tell them, when they stand up from their seat and walk back to the door. “If it's a CRT… It has to be heavy,” you remark, and they chuckle. “Did you carry it all the way here by yourself?”

          “Susie helped out,” they state, opening the door and holding it for you while you pass. “She says she doesn't like school counselors, so she left before I knocked on the door and then—”

          Upon stepping out of the office, Kris's gaze widens, and they come to a rough stop.

          The television they mentioned is plugged in to the socket next to your door.

          It's on screensaver, with the DVD logo bouncing around.

          For a moment, it seems like they're holding a staring contest with the television, and you swear it feels like the television responds to the glare Kris directs at its screen by flickering to signal error for a split second.

          “By the way,” they sign, huffing. “It's not… a normal TV, so be careful, and don't get spooked.”

          You nod along for them to carry on, kind of used to the oddity of their stories by now.

          “It wasn't plugged in when I left it here, and maybe someone just wanted to try it out, but…”

          They meet your gaze, red eyes showing an amount of concern that's only heightened the more stories they've shared to you about the Dark World.

          “If anything weird happens, it's probably because of that,” they explain, unplugging the television. “In the Dark World, he's actually like a celebrity. His name’s Tenna, and he wanted me to find someone to adopt him, since nobody watches him at home anymore, and he wants company.” They stop to glance back at you, a hint of reluctance in the light of their eyes before they sigh and look away. “Mom’s been thinking of buying a new TV, and I don't want him to get thrown out.”

          “So, he's like a friend?” you ask, hoping to erase the gloom in their eyes before they go off to lunch. “It's okay to be worried about him!”

          Kris looks back to you, a smaller smile breaking the uneasy grimace and easing the furrow in their brow.

          “Promise me you'll take care of him?”

          You nod and offer your arms out, letting them walk up to you for a hug.

          “I promise.”

 • • • • •

          “Um…”

          Many hours later, after contacting someone who could fix the refrigerator, going to the doctor to get yourself checked and treated, and buying fewer groceries in case the fridge acts up again, you're home.

          And now that you're finally able to rest, you've brought Kris's television into your living room, kneeling in front of it to — somehow — try to start a conversation with... Tenna.

          “Hello?”

          Stars, you're thankful you live alone.

          Otherwise, you don't know how you'd explain to a partner or a roommate why you're trying to chat with an inanimate object instead of them.

          “Maybe I need to… turn you on first?” You consider your choice of words and immediately regret them. “Okay. Not like that, so don't get scared. Just… In a literal, electrical sort of sense. You get me?”

          No response.

          You figured as much.

          Still, you stand up, fetch the plug behind the television, and connect it to the socket on the wall next to it.

          Finally, you kneel once more, scoot closer, and press on the power button.

          “Um…”

          Again, this seems ridiculous as hell.

          “Hello.”

          The channel it's currently on is simply loud static, and — for a moment — it feels like it will stay that way, until…

          “Good evening, everybody,” a weather reporter says, his smile big and bright. “Better get your umbrellas ready for tomorrow! It's gonna be—”

          The channel changes on its own.

          “Gusto en conocerte,” a Hispanic woman from a random soap opera greets, offering her hand out to a man — shirtless, for whatever reason — showing up at her door with a six-pack of abs and a six-pack of beer.

          The rest of the audio dissolves into background noise as you process what's just happened, and you even look down at your hands to make sure they haven't acted on their own to drive you insane.

          “Uh…” You blink away the confusion for a few seconds — eyes still fixed on your palms — and then reply with, “Nice to meet you, too?”

          The channel changes to a kid's show, where a group of children are smiling and giggling, bouncing around with a happy clown lady.

          “You're… Mister Tenna, aren't you?”

          The channel changes once more.

          “Correct!” a game show announcer screams, pointing a finger at a goat woman lost in excitement, having won the jackpot prize.

          Now, it's sort of a horror movie scenario more than a happy-go-lucky one, as the channels start to change one after the other, allowing only letters to slip by until… 

          Mister Tenna spells out your name, letter by letter.

          “Y— Yes,” you reply, and you gulp down the sudden fear that's climbed its way to your throat. “That's my name! Kris told you, didn't they?”

          Static, then a change of channel.

          “Incorrect!” the same game show announcer screams, now pointing a finger at a goat man drowning in sorrow, having lost all his bets.

          “Uh…”

          That answer doesn't exactly help with how creepy it feels to be communicating with an entity that's spelled out your name perfectly through quick channel changes.

          “Then… How?”

          He switches to a laugh track that follows while two black men — assumedly brothers or in some way related, if you remember the sitcom correctly — are having a discussion.

          Channel switch.

          “Name?” a different show announcer asks.

          And yet another.

          “Tag!” a red monster named Elmo exclaims, while… tagging himself.

          Your eyes widen at the realization, and you stare down at yourself to see you're still wearing your work uniform, reminding you it's been over sixteen hours since you woke up.

          At the reminder you have to sleep soon and be ready for another day, you aim to look for your phone and check the time, but…

          “Good evening, Hometown! It's currently ten thirty-three, and—”

          The channel changes to static, and — for a moment — you swear you see the freaking television blush on screen.

          “Um…”

          You seriously need to expand your vocabulary if you want to impress Kris's astonishingly vocal friend, and yet…

          You know it will be difficult to get used to the oddity of this situation.

          “Wait,” you blurt, and then you realize this practically means you have a roommate now. “Does that mean you'll be able to see me whenever you're turned—” You cough, clearing your throat. “I mean… Whenever you're switched on?”

          Several changes of channel ensue, like he's having a hard time finding the right answer.

          “Yes,” an ecstatic, pale, chubby, and blonde woman exclaims, jumping into the arms of an equally ecstatic, red-haired, muscular, tanned woman as she accepts her proposal.

          “Okay, so…”

          Goodbye to the days you watched television in nothing but your underwear.

          “Good to know.”

          A frown twists your mouth as you consider his situation here in the… Light World?

          “So, that means I should keep you plugged into electricity whenever I can, if that means you'll still be conscious, but you won't see me?”

          Tenna replies by changing to a channel with a teenage cat girl shrugging, rolling her eyes, and saying, “Ugh, whatever. You decide.”

          And then, he clarifies he means that in an excited manner rather than broody, since he follows it up with the same kids’ channel, showing the group of children cheering at the same clown while she crafts different shapes with a bunch of balloons.

          “Uh…” You smile. “Cool! Then, I will. I guess a blackout is kind of like a… Bad day? A coma? A small shock? A… heart attack?” You hum in thought and rub your chin, trying to search for the best way to describe it. “Something like that? You don’t have to answer right now. I'm just… wondering how this works.”

          You figure this is a terrible first impression with how many ‘buts’, ‘ums’, and ‘uhs’, and even a forsaken ‘something like that’ you're replying with, but — again — this will take some time getting used to.

          “Mister Tenna,” you call out, noticing you've kept yourself silent for a bit too long, based on the fact he's changed the channel to one on a commercial break. “Could I ask you one last thing, before I wash up and go to bed?”

          He immediately responds by changing the channel to a blue bird monster trying to act cool by asking ‘What's up?’, and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

          “I know we've only just met, but…” You swallow hard and close your eyes tightly, letting out breath. “Does this mean we can be friends?”

          Oh, no.

          Oh, crap.

          You've done something wrong, because Tenna literally starts shaking — as in — the television goes silent, and into a bright white screen, tumbling left and right like there's an earthquake and it's only affecting him.

          Fight or flight immediately kicks in, obliging you to stand up and step back, fists held up in front of you and legs trembling like you're ready to do both things at once.

          “ABSOLUTELY,” a hyped man's voice shouts, and a — listen to this — a giant red flower blooms from the center of the screen like something from a lucid dream. 

          “Uhhh…” you drone, falling back to your knees like you're witnessing an epiphany.

          This is probably the equivalent of Tenna going into full static, so you hope he doesn't judge you too much for your reaction.

          “C— Cool.”

          Smooth.

• • • • •

[Link to the full story on AO3.]

Author's Note:

Sharing at least chapter 1 on Tumblr! The rest will be up on AO3 (uncensored, rated M), and on Wattpad and Quotev (censored, rated T).

I find posting long fics on Tumblr a bit clumsy, so for now, you can see bi-weekly updates for this story on AO3!

[jamestrmtx]

Art so tasty I want to eat it.

Oh my, I think something just awakened in me...

[jamestrmtx]

Tennacious

(Tenna x GN! Reader One Shot)

[Domestic Fluff, Comfort, and Humor; Rated Mature for Implied Sexual Content]

Summary

The best part of having Tenna as a husband?

You're never bored.

The worst?

He's very clingy.

♪

Or, you try to get up for work one morning, but Tenna wants you to call in sick.

          Getting up before four in the morning should be a crime, but you still have to return to the Light World during the daytime, so that your friends and family won't think you went missing, or that you simply vanished into thin air.

 

          Living with a humanoid television in the Dark World and traveling to the Light World when you have to continue your life as usual, your commute is pretty exhausting, but the sacrifices have been worth it.

          “I can make my own breakfast,” you tell Tenna, when he tries to convince you to stay, through bribery composed of delicious food he's learned to cook in the weekends you normally spend cooking together for his special late-night show. “Let go.”

          Tenna has often attempted to make you permanently stay in the Dark World, insisting that he has enough here for the two of you to live happily together. He’s tried convincing you that you can still visit the Light World even if you plant your roots here, and he's proved to you by living together since getting married that he’ll be someone you can have a peaceful life with, were you to take that risk. Except, you're not ready to uproot so soon, and you're not sure you want to, at all. Leaving behind a life you've known for so long to stay in an unstable world mainly Kris and Susie have worked to maintain safe, you feel like sufficient of a bother to stay here for this long, as it is. Trying to bring Tenna's physical form into the Light World is a work in progress, yet that progress has dwindled at the threat of instability of the Dark Fountains, and you're not all that certain of how you can help with that.

          “Ten more minutes, sweetheart,” Tenna mutters, wrapping his bare arms around your waist and tugging you against him, his screen brushing with your back as he snuggles you.

          “No,” you reply, placing your hands on his arms. “Let go. I'll be late for work.”

          “Five minutes!”

          “No.”

          You pull away from him and stand up, turning off the phone alarm — one minute from ringing — left on the bedside table, and yawning while you stretch out and rub drowsiness off your droopy gaze.

          You've been married to Tenna for the past three and a half months, though before that, you started off several months as friends, a very awkward month as more-than friends but not-quite lovers, and then an entire year as a couple. 

          In that time, you've learned about Kris and Susie's adventures in the Dark World, although you haven't been an active participant in the dangers they've faced and the risks they've taken, alongside Ralsei — and Lancer and Noelle, at times. The Fun Gang, as they call themselves (or The $!$? Squad, as Susie prefers), have singlehandedly brought safety to both worlds, even if very little people in Light World know about it. And you've acted as a lighthouse of sorts, offering them about as much support as you can through means of providing free food and boundless repose while working at QC’s Diner, and listening to their worries after the group eventually trusted you enough to tell you.

          “I'll be back early today,” you promise Tenna, setting a knee on the bed to lean in and kiss his nose.

          “You've been working too much lately,” he protests, his mouth pouting as he sits up on the bed and faces you with an angered brow, which is just a pair of creases higher above his nose, since he doesn't have eyes. “Why, I oughta ‘ave a word with yer boss and give ‘er a piece of my mind!”

          You giggle and snort at the sight of him standing up from the bed and spontaneously changing his striped, blue-and-white pajamas into mob boss clothes, a quirk he learned recently — quite like how he changes to a black tuxedo, black shoes, and a black-and-white striped top hat when he dances with a cane — whenever he tries to act like the mafiosos in the old detective films you've been watching together, as of late.

          Tenna not only imitates a mob boss’s physical mannerisms and particular accent, but also changes his clothes to an outfit similar to those men: a black suit with thin white stripes, black dress shirt and shoes, red tie, and a white trilby with a black line.

          “She's not forcing me to work extra hours,” you tell him, smiling. “But she needs the extra hand, and she's helped me a lot, so I want to help her, too.”

          Tenna straightens himself up, and his clothing changes back to his pajamas.

          He seems a little embarrassed, like he's realized he got carried away.

 

          “Phooey,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. “Your argument is an immaculate display of kindness, but…!” Tenna frowns, uncrossing his arms and hanging his head down. When he lifts his head and looks at you, you imagine he would be giving you puppy eyes, if he had a pair. “I still miss having you here more often!”

          You're no stranger to Tenna's tendency to get lonely… considerably fast, and his need to have not necessarily a grand audience paying attention to him, but at least someone he deems important in his life.

 

          “We can go out tonight,” you suggest, taking the phone from your bedside table and checking how long until the second alarm rings. “I promise.”

 

          Tenna's frown turns into a straight line, and then…

          His face changes to the signal error screen, a common behaviour you've learned throughout the years that your CRT husband doesn't only do when he's hurt or having trouble remembering something, but when he's angry, too.

          “C’mon,” you insist, walking up to his side, standing on your tiptoes, and patting the top of his screen. “Don't get mad, honey. We can eat some dinner at that fancy place that opened up in Castle Town recently!”

          “You can call in sick,” he says, grabbing your arm when you try to step back. “You’ve never done that before!”

          “I know, but I'd rather save my sick days, in case I—”

 

          He grabs both of your arms now, the strength of the tug he gives afterwards sending you on your butt to the fluffy mess of bedsheets, his side of the bed much warmer than yours.

          You're left lying on the bed again, and he sets himself on top of you, pinning you down and staring at you with that strange screen of his where it's a static background with solely his big grin in the middle.

          “That wasn't a suggestion, darling,” he states, his tone cutting, but his signature gentleness hidden behind it, and present in the way he holds you. “Give me your phone, will you?”

 

          You clutch the phone in your hand and shake your head.

          “I can make the call myself, and— Hey!”

          Tenna swipes the phone from your hand, jumps off the bed, and types in the pin. 

 

          At the beginning of your relationship — in an incredible display of respecting your privacy and singularity — he avoided staring at your phone whenever you typed in the pin, yet you told him it was alright. And the day after, you showed him the pin, mainly so he could learn how to handle more advanced gadgets and get used to the modern world, but also because you didn't see a need to keep anything from him. He's not the type to be overbearing, and he's simply nosey in the sense that he has a large nose, and not that he swoops it all up in your business.

 

          Sure, when you first married, Tenna wanted to spend every possible second together, but it's not like he didn't want others tagging along for things like going to the movies and hanging out.

          But today, he's different.

          He's showing an amount of clinginess you've never seen before.

          Perhaps Kris and Susie had some trouble with his abandonment issues and went as far as to battle him to stop him from getting too carried away, but ever since you met him, he's mostly shown you signs that he's overly affectionate, and nothing beyond that.

          “Oh, yes! Of course,” Tenna says to your boss, not only acting out the role of a distressed husband through the dramatically saddened tone of voice, but through the expressions and gestures he makes while tending to the call. “My darling spouse is under the weather, and they wanted me to inform you they'll be back tomorrow. Or the next! Or… the next-next! …Depends, really! They're oh, so very, very sick…” He sighs like he can't believe the news himself. After, he covers the phone with his free hand to mutter under his breath, “(They're hotter than normal, and that's saying something!)” He then brings that same hand to his face in utter despair, a perfect ‘woe is me’ posture held as he continues with, “Imagine my surprise when I saw my dearest sunshine unable to get out of bed! A true horror! A tragedy!”

          There's QC’s concerned voice on the other line. 

 

          And it sounds a bit distorted, all things considered. 

 

          Being in the Dark World and trying to make calls was impossible a few months back, and it was only recently you discovered how to make calls to the Light World work. Although, it's not just because of how bad the quality of the calls are between worlds, but because Tenna's exaggerated performance seems to be making him jolt out tiny sparks of electricity, like he's about to combust from the sheer joy of his ‘evil’ plans. He's ecstatic, but not in the usual way, since that would involve a flower blooming on his nose.

          Currently, it's a certain type of excitement that probably means: ‘I got away with it, and now I can have you all to myself. Hah!’, or maybe something along the lines of him getting payback for how lonely he's felt these past few weeks.

          Either way, you—

          Thump!

          Tenna throws himself next to you in bed, setting the phone on his bedside table, to then look at you with a smug smile. He props an elbow on the mattress, rests his head on his palm, and stretches the rest of his body out in an attempt at a seductive pose. He's blushing, and you notice the bud of a flower on his nose.

 

          “See that, sweetheart?” he teases, grinning. “It worked out!”

          You sigh, give into his shenanigans with a smile, and scoot closer to him, reaching out for his face with both hands to squeeze the blush on his cheeks.

 

          “You’re so silly,” you mumble, leaning in and broadening your smile. “I love that about you.”

 

          You have to admit, it's been… a while since you last allowed yourself to take it easy and stop and smell the flowers like this.

          Literally and figuratively, considering…

          Poof!

 

          Exactly that.

 

          A flower blooms from his nose when you kiss his cheeks, first the left one and then the right.

 

          Then, you pluck the flower and set it aside next to your phone, booping his nose when you're done.

 

          “You love TV?” Tenna asks, doing the ‘👉👈’ pose he learned one time from Alphys, after you had to ask for help on how to fix a CRT when he overheated from— ahem, too much… arousal during the honeymoon.

          (It was actually only very passionate kissing, just so you know, because you've yet to trust going any further and… electrocuting yourself.)

          Your grin grows at his question and you nod, pulling him closer to peck his lips, and letting him hold you tighter and nearer to his already overheating body.

 

          When the kiss ends and you open your eyes, he's more blush than screen.

          “D— Do you?”

          “Obviously.”

          You rest your face against the crook of his head and kiss him right there, sighing at the feeling of his arms pulling you into a tighter hug.

          “I love TV,” you mumble, pressing your face nearer and closing your eyes again, sleepiness overcoming your heavy eyelids.

[jamestrmtx]

My friend said this about AO3 and it’s honestly so true

[jamestrmtx]

—¡Y ahora, ¿quién podrá defendernos?!

—¡Yo, el Chapulín Antenna!

I'm no artist, but I had a vision, and I had to doodle this, lol.

¡El Chapulín Antenna!

Both Chapulín and Tenna have red and yellow clothing, antennas, and tailcoats. Tenna's pose in the boss fight kind of reminded me of Chapulín's iconic pose, and then... There's the fact that they're both deemed childhood heroes/icons!

...And that's the story of how I ended up making this messy drawing. 🤭

¡Síganme los buenos!

[jamestrmtx]

Chapters: 3/6 Fandom: Deltarune (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tenna (Deltarune)/Reader, Tenna (Deltarune)/You Characters: Tenna (Deltarune), Reader Additional Tags: Deltarune Chapter Four Spoilers, Post-Deltarune Chapter Four, Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Gender-neutral Reader, Fluff and Humor, First Meetings, Strangers to Friends, Blushing, Flirting, Awkward Conversations, Mild Language, Suggestive Themes, Developing Relationship, Roommates, Eventual Romance, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Ending

  Summary:

When Kris asks for a favour, it seems simple enough: take their old television and keep it at your place, since it means a lot to them and they don't want Toriel to throw it out.

You accept, but then they explain the television is actually a man named Tenna, and — socially awkward as you are — you plug him in and try to strike up a conversation.

Surprisingly, it works out, and you gain a new friend (and maybe a lover eventually, if you keep up your smooth moves).

• • • • •

Note: Static Light is no longer just a one-shot. It's now a short story, and you can read it on AO3, Quotev, or Wattpad!

[jamestrmtx]

My favourite vine recreated in an animation with two of my favourite Deltarune characters. Absolutely love it! So cute, I had to reblog. ❤️

anyone remember this vine

[jamestrmtx]

Blind Stars

(Kris Dreemurr & GN! Reader One Shot)

[Familial/Platonic Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Rated G]

Summary

Sometime after the events of Chapter Four, Toriel and Asgore get back together, and while — at first — it's what Kris quietly wished for, months pass and the facade ends, revealing what made the relationship end the first time.

You're their human therapist, and they've come to open up about many things, including their dangerous adventures in the Dark World.

Today, they've come to you for help over something far more mundane, but not something you wish they'd be going through.

Note

For the sake of plot, the reader has coily hair.

The rest of their appearance is ambiguous!

          You've never had a patient like this before, but that's just what makes the job worthwhile, getting to learn something new about the uniqueness of the world every day.

          “How do you feel… now that it's been three months?”

          Kris looks down at their lap and frowns, remaining silent for a while.

          Then, they look back up, signing, “I think I regret ever wishing my mom and dad were back together.”

          Your lips form an apologetic smile on their own as you stand up from the desk, walk up to them, and set a hand on their shoulder, letting them make eye contact when they deem it adequate.

          Which — considering you've tended to their needs for the past six months — isn't very long.

          They look at you, bright red eyes glinting with warmth as they pull you in for a hug.

          They've oftentimes commented hugging you feels ‘like hugging Ralsei’, and that's when you learned of the Dark World and all the things that compose it.

          “...Soft,” they mutter, inhaling your scent. "Hair's so fluffy. Like a cloud."

          They've — also — oftentimes commented you smell just like the pies their mother bakes, so you've made it sort of a mission to always keep a full stock of the perfume you use.

          If it brings them comfort, it beats the ruder comments your (potentially ex) boyfriend makes about you always dressing the same and using the same perfume all the time.

          The irony of the situation dawns on you, but a couple of things are different. For one, he's still only your boyfriend. And you don't have children that'll be affected by your decision.

          When Kris lets go, they're smiling, but you know your next question will erase that happiness.

          “Why do you regret having your mom and dad back together?”

          Kris sighs, then sets their hands on their knees and clutches them, their frown returning twice as strong.

          It takes a while to loosen up and push on forward, and that's why your sessions with them are sometimes an hour and a half, or two hours long instead of one.

          “They still fight like they used to, but…”

          They stop signing to chew on their bottom lip harshly, almost drawing blood. 

          Their actions mask the trembling uncertainty of their mouth, and they wipe away the single tear that slips past an eye. 

          “...But?”

          “I…”

          You walk back to your desk and fetch a notepad and a pen, then return and offer it to them.

          “You can write it down, if you'd like.”

          Kris nods and takes what you hold out.

          There's the sound of the clock ticking and tocking — a sound you have to turn off for specific kinds of patients — the bubbling of the big tank with a small number of fish in it, and the distant gurgling of the coffee maker, preparing the decaf for their weekly dose of mocha with whipped cream and chocolate shavings.

          When they're finished writing, they avoid eye contact, but still hand over what they've written.

          You stare at the words for a while, then catch your breath.

          “Would you like me to read it aloud?”

          You started to ask that question two months into them coming to visit, seeing positive results from having them hear their own thoughts out loud.

          Kris hugs themself and nods, still avoiding eye contact.

          “Okay!”

          You smile and sit down next to them when they scoot over.

          “Whenever mom gets into an argument, she always blames dad,” it reads. “And whenever dad gets into an argument, he always tries to make me choose who's right and who's wrong.” 

          They tense up, so you take a pause and wait for them to follow the breathing technique you taught them. 

          When they nod, you carry on.

          “It’s not always THAT bad, but…” You set a hand on their shoulder again when they make eye contact. “Last week, a day after I came here, it was… not great. They got into a bigger argument this time, and they BOTH asked me who was right. I felt trapped, but they wouldn't let me go until I said something. And I DIDN'T want to say anything. I just…”

          It stops at that.

          You swallow the tension in your throat and meet their eyes, now undoubtedly wet and shiny, awaiting the rainfall.

          “I wanted to run back here and ask for help,” they sign, and then…

          They break into tears and shove their face into your stomach, hugging you tightly.

          Their once quiet and rare voice breaks into wails and sobs, and you have to bite back the pain their firm embrace brings to your body.

          They've never been too gentle with… certain objects.

          They admitted to slashing their mother’s tires back when you only first started seeing them.

          They've confessed they felt anger at witnessing their drunken mother dancing with a stranger, to the point of wanting something bad to happen to the latter involved in the situation, and most recently…

          They've confessed to having secretly stomped on one of their father's flowers when he wouldn't stop being so ‘obsessed’ over how pretty it was, then they regretted the act when seeing him all sad the next day.

          “Kris,” you mumble, wheezing when their hold grows tighter. “Have you told… anyone else about this?”

          Kris shakes their head and lets go, allowing you to gain a good gasp of oxygen, muscles soothing on par with your freedom.

          “Only you.”

          You haven't yet set anything in stone, as anger issues may or may not seem like an appropriate diagnosis, but…

          It's more like they're unable to express themself completely — as if something holds them back.

          “You waited until today to speak with me about this,” you state, walking back to your desk and sitting down, hands resting over the surface. “Would you consider it favourable… having video calls when something concerning like this happens again?”

          Their frown intensifies as they appear to give your question some thought.

          “Won't my parents be able to hear and see it?”

          “I can set up a meeting application on your phone, and I can offer you some earbuds, so long as I have your parents’ permission. It would be a service meant for emergencies only.”

          Kris crosses their arms and takes a deep breath, kicking their feet while they stare at the floor. 

          They let out that breath and uncross their arms, a small smile twitching in their mouth.

          “What will you say if they ask what's wrong?”

          “I believe I told you I’m no snitch, dear. Everything stays here, right where we left it.”

          You check the time, counting thirty minutes remaining.

          “As long as your life or anyone else's isn't at risk, you'll have my confidentiality, as always.”

          Kris's smile grows as you stand up from your desk and offer your hand out, a sticker of a starry sky on your palm.

          “Take the sticker while you think about it,” you explain, waiting for them to walk to your desk. “And if you want me to ask for your parents' permission, then bring me a sticker back for our next session. It can be anything you want.”

[jamestrmtx]

Static Light

(Tenna x GN! Reader One Shot)

[Fluff and Humor, Rated Teen]

Summary

When Kris asks for a favour, it seems simple enough: take their old television and keep it at your place, since it means a lot to them and they don't want Toriel to throw it out. You accept, but then they explain the television is actually a man named Tenna, and — socially awkward as you are — you plug him in and try to strike up a conversation. Surprisingly, it works out, and you gain a new friend (and maybe a lover eventually, if you keep up your smooth moves).

You've never actually been to the Dark World, but Kris has told you enough stories that you have a vague idea of what it's about.

          “Take care of him,” they said this morning, handing you an old-fashioned, bunny-eared television as heavy as you remember the type used to be.

          They informed you this was ‘Mister Tenna’, and that he was a friend they couldn't keep at home anymore, since he was a little busted, and Toriel planned to buy a new television today.

          “Um…”

          So now, you've brought the television into your own living room, kneeling in front of it to — somehow — try to start a conversation with... Tenna.

          “Hello?”

          Stars, you're thankful you live alone.

          Otherwise, you don't know how you'd explain to a partner or a roommate why you're trying to chat with an inanimate object instead of them.

          “Maybe I need to… turn you on first?” You consider your choice of words and immediately regret them. “Okay. Not like that, so don't get scared. Just… In a literal, electrical sort of sense. You get me?”

          No response.

          You figured as much.

          Still, you stand up, fetch the plug behind the television, and connect it to the socket on the wall next to it.

          Finally, you kneel once more, scoot closer, and press on the power button.

          “Um…”

          Again, this seems ridiculous as hell.

          “Hello.”

          The channel it's currently on is simply loud static, and — for a moment — it feels like it will stay that way, until…

          “Good morning, everybody,” a weather reporter says, his smile big and bright. “Better get your umbrellas ready! Today's—”

          The channel changes on its own.

          “Gusto en conocerte,” a Hispanic woman from a random soap opera greets, offering her hand out to a man — shirtless for whatever reason — showing up at her door with a six-pack of abs and a six-pack of beer.

          The rest of the audio dissolves into background noise as you process what's just happened, and you even look down at your hands to make sure they haven't acted on their own to drive you insane.

          “Uh…” You blink away the confusion for a few seconds — eyes still fixed on your palms — and then reply with, “Nice to meet you, too?”

          The channel changes to a kid's show, where a group of children are smiling and giggling, bouncing around with a happy clown lady.

          “You're… Mister Tenna, aren't you?”

          The channel changes once more.

          “Correct!” a game show announcer screams, pointing a finger at a goat woman lost in excitement, having won the jackpot prize.

          Now, it's sort of a horror movie scenario more than a happy-go-lucky one, as the channels start to change one after the other, allowing only letters to slip by until… 

          Mister Tenna spells out your name, letter by letter.

          “Y— Yes,” you reply, and you gulp down the sudden fear that's climbed its way to your throat. “That's my name! Kris told you, didn't they?”

          Static, then a change of channel.

          “Incorrect!” the same game show announcer screams, now pointing a finger at a goat man drowning in sorrow, having lost all his bets.

          “Uh…”

          That answer doesn't exactly help with how creepy it feels to be communicating with an entity that's spelled out your name perfectly through quick channel changes.

          “Then… How?”

          He switches to a laugh track that follows while two black men — assumedly brothers or in some way related, if you remember the sitcom correctly — are having a discussion.

          Channel switch.

          “Name?” a different show announcer asks.

          And yet another.

          “Tag!” a red monster named Elmo exclaims, while… tagging himself.

          Your eyes widen at the realization, and you stare down at yourself to see you're already wearing your work uniform.

          At the reminder you have somewhere else to be soon, you aim to look for your phone and check the time, but…

          “Good morning, Hometown! It's currently six thirty-three, and—”

          The channel changes to static, and — for a moment — you swear you see the freaking television blush on screen.

          “Um…”

          You seriously need to expand your vocabulary if you want to impress Kris's astonishingly vocal friend, and yet…

          You know it will be difficult to get used to the oddity of this situation.

          “Wait,” you blurt, and then you realize this practically means you have a roommate now. “Does that mean you'll be able to see me whenever you're turned—” You cough, clearing your throat. “I mean… Whenever you're switched on?”

          Several changes of channel ensue, like he's having a hard time finding the right answer.

          “Yes,” an ecstatic, pale, chubby, and blonde woman exclaims, jumping into the arms of an equally ecstatic, red-haired, muscular, tanned woman as she accepts her proposal.

          “Okay, so…”

          Goodbye to the days you watched television in nothing but your underwear.

          “Good to know.”

          A frown twists your mouth as you consider his situation here in the… Light World?

          “So, that means I should keep you plugged into electricity whenever I can, if that means you'll still be conscious, but you won't see me?”

          Tenna replies by changing to a channel with a teenage cat girl shrugging, rolling her eyes, and saying, “Ugh, whatever. You decide.”

          And then, he clarifies he means that in an excited manner rather than broody, since he follows it up with the same kids’ channel, showing the group of children cheering at the same clown while she crafts different shapes with a bunch of balloons.

          “Uh…” You smile. “Cool! Then, I will. I guess a blackout is kind of like a… Bad day? A coma? A small shock? A… heart attack?” You hum in thought and rub your chin, trying to search for the best way to describe it. “Something like that? You don’t have to answer right now. I'm just… wondering how this works.”

          You figure this is a terrible first impression with how many ‘buts’, ‘ums’, and ‘uhs’, and even a forsaken ‘something like that’ you're replying with, but — again — this will take some time getting used to.

          “Mister Tenna,” you call out, noticing you've kept yourself silent for a bit too long, based on the fact he's changed the channel to one on a commercial break. “Could I ask you one last thing, before I leave for work?”

          He immediately responds by changing the channel to a blue bird monster trying to act cool by asking “what's up?” and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

          “I know we've only just met, but…” You swallow hard and close your eyes tightly, letting out breath. “Does this mean we can be friends?”

          Oh, no.

          Oh, crap.

          You've done something wrong, because Tenna literally starts shaking — as in — the television goes silent, and into a bright white screen, tumbling left and right like there's an earthquake and it's only affecting him.

          Fight or flight immediately kicks in, obliging you to stand up and step back, fists held up in front of you and legs trembling like you're ready to do both things at once.

          “ABSOLUTELY,” a hyped man's voice shouts, and a — listen to this — a giant red flower blooms from the center of the screen like something from a lucid dream. 

          “Uhhh…” you drone, falling back to your knees like you're witnessing an epiphany.

          This is probably the equivalent of Tenna going into full static, so you hope he doesn't judge you too much for your reaction.

          “C— Cool.”

          Smooth.

[jamestrmtx]

me: *wears a blue jacket, plain t-shirt, knee shorts, and sneakers – my go-to comfy clothes for a chilly night out*

my sibling, every single time without fail: Omg, it's sans undertale.

And it doesn't stop there:

pink shirt? gay sans.

blue shirt? angry sans.

cute print shirt? uwu sans.

tie-dye shirt? hippie sans.

fandom shirt? geek sans.

There's no winning with my sibling, so long as that clothing combo exists.

[jamestrmtx]

Hello how are you? I've noticed you haven't posted in awhile, so I decided to check up. Have you enjoyed the holidays?

Thank you very much for checking up on me, and apologies for missing the other previous two asks regarding that, too!

In response to them -- Yes, I ate a snack recently and hydrated, too. :-)

It's been a bit of a rough couple of months, to be honest, but fortunately, I'm feeling much better now. Still not 100%, buuut I hope to get back on track pretty soon! I'll be returning both here and on AO3 either tomorrow or during the course of this week, though I'll also be doing several changes on all my accounts in response to the things I dealt with during my absence.

Coincidentally, I also fell ill again during the holidays, but I enjoyed the few days I managed to spend with close family members before that happened. I'm also planning on baking cookies with my lil' bro, too, now that I've recovered!

And how are you? I wish you all the best, and I hope you have a blessed New Year and future.

Also, thanks again! This was very sweet of you. ❤️

[jamestrmtx]

Heyaaaa ! i love your previous tom nook x reader fanfic,

and I wanted to know if you would agree to make a fanfic yandere Tom nook x reader please ?

Hello! And thank you, I'm glad to hear that. :-)

Unfortunately, I'm a bit uncomfortable with writing yandere stuff due to a personal stalker issue back when I was a teen, but I plan to do a different type of Tom Nook x Reader once I'm done with this one!

[jamestrmtx]

I've also noticed you don't have a dni, which I would recommend having as their are some people you might not want interacting with your posts.

Ooh, thank you for the suggestion!

I've heard of/seen those lists around here before, but I'll have to do a bit more research about it first. :-)

[jamestrmtx]

Hey, i just noticed your AO3 account seems to have vanished. whats up with that?

I felt discouraged over the quality of my writing a few months ago due to issues with self-confidence, so I might've impulsively... deleted it. Though I did give it some thought around a month prior to the decision. It's nothing new, if I'm gonna be honest, since I've been writing for 6 years and even to this day, I still think it's below average quality, lol.

Still though, it was a rash action, and I'm fully aware of it now.

But I do plan to return on AO3 soon, likely this Sunday or so.

I've been busy, but I plan to get back on track soon!

And thank you for checking up on that! Hope you're doing okay, and take care. 😄

[jamestrmtx]

Wish Upon a Night Sky - [Beastars | Various x Reader]

[Female, Sheep Reader | Slow Burn]

Act Three | Age-old Conflict

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"I knew I'd find you here!"

At the sound of that voice -- familiar and friendly -- you look up from your book and form a smile when you recognize the person behind it. 

"Are you busy right now?" Jack asks, sitting in the empty chair next to yours. "I'd like you to meet someone, if you're not too busy!"

You bookmark where you're at, glance up to face his eyes, and catch a glimpse of excitement behind them. Him looking so cheerful as he waits for your response makes it almost impossible not to be persuaded into agreeing right off the bat. Still, you give the offer some thought and take your school schedule into account, against letting your responsibilities pile up right from the beginning.

"Sure," you reply, setting the book aside. "I'm just doing some self-study, at the moment." You furrow your gaze and add, "Who am I meeting, by the way?" While having time was one thing, taking into consideration who you would befriend was another. You look around and frown when you see there's no one present nearby, not only from the risk of you being all alone at a school like this one, but at the curiosity over getting to meet another student -- and potential, eventual friend, hopefully.

Jack calls the person over as a response. 

The one mentioned doesn't take too long to appear, as he shows up by the door frame in less than it takes for you to organize the pile of books on the table; he even manages a sheepish wave when he catches you staring at him, yet he keeps quiet and still after that, in spite of neither of you knowing each other's names.

It's another wolf, though he's nowhere similar to Juno. The only remotely close aspect you can find between them is his height, but even then, it's not the same. If Jack had to crouch a bit to talk to you, the wolf would no doubt have to do that, too -- if not more than that. Jack introduces him as Legoshi, a name you'd often heard slip from Juno's mouth since the past week spent as her roommate. You reciprocate his wave from earlier and direct a quick smile at him, one he returns with a reserved, almost hesitant nature -- completely different from your expectations, given his species.

At the thought of him being the one Juno often rambled on about, you bite back a grin and introduce yourself in return. The image she'd painted you of the wolf is barely needed when you take notice of just how cautious and awkward he is in greeting you. It's like he's not so sure as to how to approach you, and each movement he makes is just as wary as the next. 

When you shake hands with him, you see his gaze wander over to the book and a pile of them left on the table.

His face lights up in recognition, and it doesn't take long before he asks, "Are you the homeschool student from last week?"

You chuckle, let go of his hand, and walk off back to the table to pick up the book, smile growing when you read the title again. "Is it that obvious?" You hold it up in your hands and bite back another laugh. "I'm, well... I'm trying to be less… ignorant -- now that I'm going to be studying at a place like this! Homeschool didn't really teach me stuff beyond math, science, and languages, so I need to make up for that as much as I can." 'Of Wolves and Sheep: A Fundamental Guide to Carnivores, Herbivores, and those in between', reads the book's cover; the sheer irony of your meeting deems you incapable of wiping away your smile. "But, this is probably basic knowledge to everyone here though, huh?"

His eyes glance over the book once more, while his gaze softens as he shakes his head, returning your playful nature. "Not really," he replies, sitting down across from you and Jack when you offer him to. "I'm still learning, too," he adds. "Maybe it looks like everyone here knows about that topic, but... If you know about what happened to one of the students, you'd think differently." A somber expression reaches his face as he huffs and passes a hand against the back of his neck; a more mournful look then glints in his visage -- almost a second after, yet it's shaken off when he continues with, "In the end, it feels more like everyone's just trying their best to understand each other despite everything going on."

You toy with the book in your possession and stay quiet as your mind debates whether or not it would be okay to ask more about the incident. So far, you'd only heard rumours about it, these hard to hold on to with how frail and inconsistent their sources and information were. When you see sadness return to the wolf's gaze, you fight against it. Whatever went on at the drama club with one of its students was clearly still affecting him to this day, so you try not to make him feel worse by adding any unneeded comments to the mix. Whether he knew the person didn't matter; asking anything else would kill the mood entirely.

"I thought you'd wait for me, Legoshi. How rude of you!"

Hearing another voice blend into the calm of the library, you glance back towards the door to see a peafowl standing by it, a smile on his face despite the accusation in his words. He has his arms firmly crossed, faking anger through an equally firm glare. "Were you that desperate to meet the new girl? You disappeared the second we left the drama club!" While part of your questions are fulfilled with the person's entrance, you still don't dare ask Legoshi about the incident. Rather, you keep quiet and greet the peafowl with a wave and a smile -- just like you'd done with the wolf next to you. "You all look so cute together! Should I take a picture?"

You tense up and observe those around you. Embarrassment falls on you when you notice just how popular you seem to be currently, being surrounded by two canines and an avian. Your first few days as a new student appear gone now, and -- to any outsider -- it would come off as if you're the center of attention, with all gazes on you. "It… It's fine!" you reply, words almost stuttered. On instinct, you hide behind your book and try to control the shake of your hands. As kind as the offer is, you're far too jittery to even consider the idea of having your picture taken -- and even less with other people.

Still, you're against being rude, so you add a 'thank you, though' after your words.

"A shy one, aren't you?" he comments, covering a giggle with his hand. "You must be (Y/N), right? Juno wouldn't stop talking about the new girl, and when I heard Legoshi was meeting you today, I just had to join!" He stands by the only empty chair left at your table and extends a hand out to you before sitting down. "My name's Dom. It's nice to meet you!"

Safe to say, his energy is infectious.

You take his hand, palm feeling just as warm as his voice and smile. "Nice to meet you, too." 

Then, you let go and move your gaze back to your book. The pile at the center of the table is the next thing to be the source of attention when Dom comments over it, mischief replacing his previous, friendly tone. He reaches out for the pile, drags it over to his side, and picks the odd one out -- one you'd tried to hide by slipping it in the very middle of the rest. "It seems our new girl already has her eyes on someone here, huh? And here I thought Juno was only teasing you about it!"

To be blunt, he's holding a romance book -- its cover risqué. The image features a forbidden love between a carnivore and a herbivore, and while the publishing year dates back to almost a century ago, it retains plenty of relevance today. At a time when tension between the two sides was still fresh and bleeding, books like these existed, though you didn't exactly want to be found out with it currently. "Is it this guy, perhaps?" Dom asks, pointing at Jack, who straightens his posture as fast as the accusation comes. A hint of red shows on his face, but he tries to hide it by looking elsewhere. "You sure act quick, (Y/N)! I'm impressed."

Not wanting for further assumptions to be made, you suspend yourself over the table, focus on your target, and try to reach out for the book. Too easy to be true, you almost fall over when Dom pulls back, hiding it behind him. "It- It's not like that, really!" you exclaim, words coming out about as flustered as your face likely is now. "I'm just curious about the book -- It reminds me of a fairytale I read when I was little!"

At that, Dom stops evading your attempts at grabbing the book back from him. Interest crosses his gaze and a moment of silence takes over the room, one you're not feeling too confident about. "Oh, really?" he asks, cooing. "Hopeless romantic? Or curious about what your parents never told you?"

You sit back down on your seat and look at your lap, face burning. "A... A bit of both, actually."

The peafowl laughs, a sound honest and bright. When you stare back at him, he's holding out the book, waiting for you to take it. "Lend it to me when you're finished, alright?" he says, winking. "I'm a bit curious myself."

You allow yourself a few minutes for your face to cool down some more and huff out a long, deep breath when you're done. Truth be told, it nearly seems as if you've spent all the energy left in you by agreeing to meet new people, yet you don't exactly dislike the experience. Rather, you smile again when you recover and find your cheeks and chest hurt from how happy you are right now.

Nodding, you take the book and place it under your current read.

Your shoulders tense when you feel everyone's eyes on you, though you push through with an "alright".

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[jamestrmtx]

I've noticed you keep getting low notes on your lovely works so I recommend rebloging some of them too as it helps boost fics

Thank you for the recommendation!

Honestly, I'm way too shy for my own good when it comes to this kind of stuff, buuut I might just try that in the near future.

And I'm glad you think they're lovely. <3