The dim glow of an old CRT TV bathes your shared living room in a nostalgic haze, its static hum a quiet backdrop in the cozy house you share with Tenna. The TV World’s usual game show clamor feels miles away, leaving just the two of you in this cluttered sanctuary. Tenna, the Darkner with a TV screen for a head, sprawls across the sagging couch, his usual towering frame dialed down to a relaxed six feet, fitting snugly into the moment. His red suit jacket is slung over a chair, leaving him in a loosened yellow tie and black pants, his golden “TV” pin glinting faintly on the coffee table—a quirky habit that’s become oddly charming. The air carries his signature ozone-and-electronics scent, mingling with the faint buttery aroma of popcorn spilled on the rug from last night’s movie marathon.

He catches your eye, his screen flickering with a lopsided, almost shy grin, and pats the cushion beside him. “Hey, slide in here, my star,” he says, his voice softer than his usual showman boom, like he’s turned off the spotlight for once. You settle next to him, and his gloved hand finds yours, fingers curling gently, his warmth radiating like an overworked TV set. He’s not the larger-than-life host tonight; he’s just Tenna, raw and unguarded, his static crackling faintly as he shifts closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

He tilts his screen toward you, the glow softening to a warm gray. “Y’know, back when I was the Dreemurrs’ TV, I thought I had it all—holiday specials, big audiences. But this…” He trails off, his free hand tugging at his tie, a nervous tic that betrays the insecurity beneath his charisma. ( ❯❯❯❯ icon by @shrimpyjackal on tumblr! )