#elvy lab

[elvylab]

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[kaydens-agere]

Characters I Headcanon as Age Regressors!

This is a forever ongoing list! It will change depending on the franchises and fandoms I interact with and my opinions on certain characters :)

Keep in mind I haven't interacted with some of these characters/franchises in a while so I can't come up with exact headcanons for some of them, the ones that are underlined have links to their headcanons/moodboards and the emojis next to them are oneshots/drabbles I've done for them ^^ Also if you'd like to request please check my fandom list, thank you!!

Characters are below the cut!!

Lab Rats Chase Davenport -🧪- Marcus Davenport

Mighty Med Oliver Horace Diaz

Henry Danger Henry Hart/Kid Danger Ray Manchester/Captain Man

Spider-Man Peter Parker/Spider-Man -🕷️- Miles Morales/Spider-Man Gwen Stacy/Spider-Woman Pavitr Prabhakar/Spider-Man Hobie Brown/Spider-Man

Marvel Wade Wilson/Deadpool Logan Howlett/Wolverine Matt Murdock/Daredevil Charles Xavier/Professor X Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto Jean Grey/The Dark Phoenix James "Bucky" Barnes/The Winter Soldier Steve Rogers/Captain America

The Outsiders Ponyboy Curtis Sodapop Curtis Darrell "Darry" Curtis Johnny Cade Dallas "Dally" Winston Keith "Two-Bit" Matthews Steve Randle (yeah basically all the gang leave me alone </3)

Detroit: Become Human/Evolution/Reawakening Connor/RK800 Nines/RK900

Life Is Strange Chloe Price Rachel Amber

Fireman Sam (1987) Sam Peyton Jones Elvis Cridlington

Random One-Off characters Truman Burbank (The Truman Show) Leon Kennedy (Resident Evil) Mike Schmidt (Five Nights At Freddy's) Rusty-James (RumbleFish) Simon (Dinner In America) Ellie Williams (The Last Of Us)

[machveil]

Today’s thought:

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas (except for our marriage that part is very much coming home with us) scenario:

Idk, just thinking about the various guys going out to party in Vegas (maybe after a lengthy job being successful, maybe a birthday or something) only to wake up married (like actually legally binding married, not just a joke wedding officiated by Elvis) to the person they’ve been eyeing for a while now, not having the slightest idea what happened the previous night.

-🐸

Also I saw that art, I need yall to know I almost shrieked in the middle of the very quiet lab I work in.

[post writing note: so many words… very sleepy now] oh, you know I have to include Horangi in a Vegas fic🎲ヽ(´▽`)/🃏✨

Vegas Wedding Bells

what’s the worse that can happen after celebrating in Vegas? going back to spend your honeymoon at base? Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin CW: fem!reader, getting married while intoxicated, suggestive

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

the dull ache in his head was the first thing he noticed as he woke up, bright beams of light aggravating a headache as he groans. the body tucked against him was the second thing he noticed, bare skin warmed by bare skin. that caught his attention

when Johnny decided Simon - the birthday boy - needed to loosen up for his special day he scoffed, “‘M turnin’ thirty-two, Soap. I don’t do birthday parties.”. he thought that all the way to America, grumbling when the team boarded the plane. his two saving graces were getting an aisle seat and sitting next to you

“Ghost, it’s not that bad.”, you chuckle, watching as he crosses his arms - for a man that large and intimidating, he was acting like a pouting child. “Could be havin’ a beer at the pub.”, he remarks, eyebrows knit as someone’s carry-on bumps his shoulder, “Soap’s lucky I ‘aven’t wrung his neck.”

the flight itself wasn’t so bad, no crying children or loud snoring. by the time the flight landed at Harry Reid it was dark out, Johnny dragging everyone towards the hotel. you barely had time to shower and change before you were wrangled out to a casino. “Soap, m’not gamblin’.”, Simon huffed, looming next to the Scot as they passed row after row of slot machines

Simon held true to his word - he didn’t gamble. he got shitfaced

the night went by in slow motion, bleary eyes and drunken laughter ringing throughout the group. Simon didn’t know when it happened - when he got separated from the group, when he took your hand in his and left the building. he didn’t remember whisking you away to the nearest church - a real church, he didn’t remember gruffly asking for someone to officiate the sudden ceremony. he definitely didn’t remember shaking down some poor stranger on the street to be your witness, “Gotta— we gotta ‘ave someone watch… yeah? I’ll uh— I’ll grab someone, lovie.”

but, as you moved in his arms, the glint of a pretty little gem on your finger had his eyes widening. moving slowly, trying not to wake you, he lifts he own hand - a gold band snug against his ring finger. it’s not like you weren’t close to Simon, quite the opposite

he’d been meaning to ask you out for a few months, never quite working up the nerve to. now? he’s cussing himself out in his head - married before the first date, drunken vows. your back is to his chest, arms cradling a pillow as you sleep. it’s only when you yawn and shift in his arms does he completely freeze, your tired eyes looking up at him

it doesn’t help when you snuggle up to him, eyes closing as you tuck yourself against his chest. heart hammering, he wouldn’t be surprised if you heard it. at a loss for words, his gaze travels back to his ring adorned finger - fuck, would you be pissed when you realize? he’s liked you for so long and he blows it by marrying you in Vegas?

“Simon?”, you murmur, turning in his arms, chest to chest - still skin to skin, “What time is it?”, a groan leaving your throat as the sun peaks out from behind his hotel room’s curtains. he can’t bring himself to look down, your bare chest to his. when he tries to shift back a little, aiming to sit up, does he realize a third thing - when had he taken off his mask?

dirty blonde, close-cropped hair messy against his pillow. scarred skin bare for your view. nervous brown eyes looking down at your sleepy form

he doesn’t know what to say, too much information being realized all at once. it doesn’t help when you hum softly, rubbing the corner of your eye, soft-spoken words leaving your lips - his cheeks heating up and hands a little sweaty at your words

“S’not nice to ignore the missus, Simon.”, you say, voice raspy with exhaustion

John “Soap” MacTavish:

it was a short deployment, but it had TF141 scrambling to stay alive - practically a week in hell. a hail of gunfire on Tuesday, a close call Wednesday, the group getting separated for two days. it was a miracle that everyone made it back in one piece with just scrapes and bruises

it was a mumbled joke - you didn’t think it would be taken seriously, “We’re lucky as hell, should take a trip to Vegas, huh?”. despite the aching muscles the group sustained, bumps and bruises, you were swept away to an airport. it was too early for this, but it was too late to back out - Price and his need to get to the airport at four in the morning

“S’not that bad, bonnie.”, Johnny shrugged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he tucked you against his side. between Johnny and Kyle’s chipper mood, Simon’s grumbling, and Price double checking passports and tickets, you were content to just go along, “Soap, I love you, but it’s too early for this.”

he laughed, a little too loud for the early morning crowd - you didn’t catch the way his cheeks heated up though. “Lighten up, mo ghaol.”, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips when he heard you confusingly mutter, “Mo ghaol?”, under your breath. he’d tell you what that meant in the future

the flight itself was fine, Johnny sat behind you. he made it a little game - passing notes up to you from between the chairs, giving the back of your seat a nudge every once in a while. when he passed out halfway through the flight you caught a couple hours of peace… if you could ignore his snoring

by the time the plane landed and everyone was settling down in the hotel, Johnny was raring to go. quick knocks on your door followed by him calling your name - a little too loud for this time of night

Kyle was busy unpacking while Simon and Price had retired to bed - poor John, all alone and left to his own devices. he already had a plan, taking your hand in his and dragging you out of the hotel. a fun night of bar hopping and getting tipsy, his treat

Johnny was confused when he woke up in a hotel room - definitely not the one either of you checked into with the group— wait, what’re you doing wedged against his side? he tried to sit up, the sharp pain in his temple making him stop. how much did he drink? he was at a bar with you, then he blinked and woke up here

bringing his hand up to rub his face, Johnny pauses when he feels cool metal touch his cheek. pulling his hand back a little, his eyebrows shoot up when he sees the ring on his finger - freezing when he remembers— oh no

he’s sitting up quickly, the pain in his head be damned. looking down at you, oh, you looked so peaceful, his breath hitches. there on your cute little ring finger, a matching gold band with a pretty little gemstone. “Ah— shit.”, he mumbles, mind a little fuzzy as snippets of the night come to the forefront of his mind

married - legally wed at the church around the corner. some dingy little say-the-vows wedding house wouldn’t do for you. Johnny, sweeping you both off in a drunken stupor, insisted that you deserved a real, good old fashioned church wedding… not before swinging into a jewelry shop

sloppy vows and dopey smiles exchanged, he was carrying you out the door. never made it back to the hotel Price booked - he couldn’t remember which way it was. instead, Johnny booked an overpriced honeymoon suite somewhere else - champagne bottle cracked open as he kissed your cheek

and now he’s looking down at you as you stir, tired eyes blinking open. it’s not like he regrets marrying you - he would love to marry you, he just wish he had gotten to the dating bit first. there was an awkward silence as you slowly took in the scene - Johnny, his shirt tossed somewhere in a forgotten corner, seated next to you in bed. an unfamiliar, albeit light, weight to your ring finger

when you finally meet his gaze, his grins - a slight, nervous glint in his eyes as you sit up too. “Ah— we— I mean, didnae think that—“, he coughs, stumbling over his words, trying to find something to say. married to one of his closest friends in Vegas of all places, he’s wracking his brain for a coherent sentence - eyes wide when you look down at your newly gilded finger

“Jumping the gun on getting married, huh?”, you smile, voice sleepy as you glance up at him. pausing, your eyebrows knit slightly as you glance around, “Where exactly are we, John?”

König:

König, for all his cockiness and bravado on duty as a Colonel, was less than thrilled to be flying to Vegas. was he proud of his teammates on their latest deployment? of course, did he want to be crammed in a small airplane seat with no leg room? absolutely not

being flown in and out of deployments is one thing, fitting himself in a seat meant for someone half his size was another. sniper hood replaced with a black medical mask and baseball cap, he was putting up with the flight for his friends - and you. was he going to spend money in Vegas? not if he could help it, “Nein, gambling is a waste of money. You can lose your own savings, Horangi.”, he scoffed, turning down the offer to bet when they landed

instead, König spent a majority of the night in a booth with you - drinking and watching your fellow teammates lose money. it wasn’t long before the multiple fruity cocktails got to König, a large hand on the small of your back as he ushered you outside the casino

the pounding in his head woke him up, throat dry and eyes bleary. the last thing he remembered was laughing with you on the streets of Vegas. as he moved to shift, to tug the covers up and hide against his pillow, he paused - registering the small hand on his chest, the warmth tucked against his side

swallowing, he glances down. he nearly chokes on his spit when he sees you sleeping against him, wedged between his body and the covers. headache suddenly forgotten, his mind swirls with different thoughts - had he slept with you? had you clung to him all night? are you going to be disgusted with him when you wake up? did you always have that ring on your finger—

wait. oh no

gaze glued to the ring on your finger - beautiful gem snug on the band - König’s mind suddenly goes blank. when he raises his own hand only to see a matching ring all those questions flood back as his chest tightens

surely you both hadn’t drank that much. he can barely remember leaving the casino though, he doesn’t remember whisking you away to a church - saying slurred vows and promises to each other. what’s worse? you weren’t together to begin with

sure, König has been pining for you, yearning to call you his and vice versa. to be married now? there’s butterflies in his stomach, but his chest is tight with anxiety. you were close colleagues, closer friends, and he carried you back to the hotel as his bride? you were going to kill him when you woke up, he was sure

when you mumbled something he froze, muscles tense as you hugged him closer. “Mm, König?”, sleepy voice coated with raspiness, it feels like the wind got knocked out of him, “König?”. his eyes darted down to meet yours, hands shaky as they clutch the sheets

“Ah— ja, Maus?”, voice strained, he awkwardly glances away. when he feels you cuddle up to his side, a small peck placed to his chest, he’s sure he’s died - or maybe he’s still asleep, blacked out from the booze. “You’re so warm.”, your voice, small and sweet, has him dizzy before he realizes what you’ve said

dead silent, he can’t help the flustered feeling in his heart, cheeks heating up. maybe everything can be normal? sure, you’re married, but— but what if you just ignored that? yeah, maybe König won’t lose you when you fully realize what’s happened… probably not, but the thought is nice

it’s a few minutes before you speak again, he’s sure the silence is comfortable for you - he’s overthinking what’s happened, what happens next, what happens on the flight back, what happens—

“Can’t wait to wake up every day like this.”, you sleepily murmur. it has König’s mind going silent - every day? you wanted to wake up with him every day—

Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin:

he really shouldn’t gamble. he’s shit at it, he doesn’t want to risk owing more than he can pay, but damnit! it’s Las Vegas - how can he not gamble? the city was practically made for him. lights, dice, cards, cash? like a moth to the flame, can you blame Horangi when he drags you there for his birthday?

sure, he’s been to the States before, but Sin City? he’s never had a reason to go to Nevada, but a weekend get away to celebrate? now that’s an excuse to call and bluff. it was a little hard to get everyone onboard with the idea - as much as the team enjoyed a poker night, flying to Vegas to lose money was definitely… eyebrow raising. but, when it’s for a birthday, they can suck it up and play along

the night went by quick, a mixture of card games and drinking as the group paraded behind Horangi, letting him lead them from table to table. at some point they stopped at a bar, liquor flowing and shots passed out - Horangi could hardly move when he woke up. the hangover that hit him was devastating, an uncomfortable ache behind his temple

grumbling curses as light peaked out from behind the curtains, Horangi found himself unable to move - someone wrapped snugly around him, an arm and leg draped over his body. he didn’t remember hooking up with anyone last night, then again, he didn’t remember a lot after the bar. so, when he looked down and saw you? his heart nearly stopped

“Mavsosa—“, voice strained as he freezes, his eyes flutter shut. you’re warm against him, pleasantly so, but he can’t help the guilt gnawing at his heart. did something happen? how did you two end up in his room?

but, light still streaming in from a crack in the curtains, when he opens his eyes he catches a glimmer on your ring finger. time slows down for him as he swallows - a pretty gold band with a cute little gem. when he eyes his own hand time starts flowing again, heart drumming in his chest. talk about a birthday present, he woke up with a wife

he would have been delighted to wake up as your boyfriend - maybe a tipsy confession after a shot of liquid courage, but waking up as your husband? it has his stomach twisting with nerves, but he can’t help the boyish smile that settles on his face. it seems like a silly joke, waking up wed to you

mind fuzzy as he recalls the chapel he ushered you into, hand in hand with goofy smiles, it didn’t seem too bad in the moment. while he might not be great at gambling, his charisma let him sweet talk the pastor into officiating - not his proudest moment in hindsight

and when you cling to him as you wake up, hand smoothing down his chest, he glances at you. you’ve been solid friends since he started serving, everyone knows that if you’re somewhere the other isn’t far behind. and he loves you, he really does, he just didn’t expect to see that ring on you, shiny band twinkling with the morning light

”Morning, dangsin.”, he quietly says, hoping you’ll be just as happy - maybe a little caught off guard - as him. it’s a gamble, his deep voice dripping with affection as he runs his hand through your hair, “Sleep well?”

charismatic man - while he tends to have terrible luck gambling, winning you over was easier than breathing, “Mhm, s’this our honeymoon, Kim?”, you mumble, eyeing the ring on his hand

[t00thpasteface]

roommate took a stupid selfie and i photobombed it holding up my elvis themed cup. then i redrew it. and then i showed this redraw to my roommate and she said we should name each other Trapper and Hawkeye in our phones. but bc we sleep in the same room and spend all day at the same campus we really only text each other "are you out of class yet" "do you want to get lunch" "are you still in lab bc i want to get sandwiches" "i'm in the cafeteria where are you" "i'm omw to the caf is the food good today?" "no"

[brookediamonds]

let your arms invite me, for who knows when we'll meet again this way | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

summary: based off this request

Word count: 3.4k Warnings: mentions of violence, drugs (a little), fluff

gif is not mine

"Do you mind?" You whine, gently shoving your brother away from you as the two of you line up for the captain's photos.

"Can't I be close to you?" Robby teases you moving to wrap an arm around your shoulder making you growl in frustration.

"I'm gonna break your arm, you annoying gremlin," you spat shrugging his arm off. You hear a snort from behind you, making you spare a glance to your right.

The boy who made the noise makes quick eye contact with you before focusing on the camera man ahead of you.

What a cutie

The photographer shoots a few pictures before dismissing the teams. As you make way back towards your group, you see the strongly built boy that stood behind you walk past you, turning his head back to give you one last look before walking out of the building with his teammates.

"Earth to (Y/n)," Robby's hand waves in front of your face making you smack it out of the way.

"I'm listening," you fought pretending to know what he just said when you were actually checking out the tall drink of water that just left.

----------------------------------------------------------

You learn he's apart of The Iron Dragons, a team that is randomly drawn along with Cobra Kai to fight with during Captain's War.

Unfortunately as you were paired up to fight with Tory, your brother is distracted and gets knocked down easily eliminating your team out.

As you and your dojo line up along the mat, you watch as Cobra Kai is dominated by the green team within just a few seconds.

You're unable to hide the impressed expression among your face, his eyes meeting yours across the mat. There's a small smirk playing on his lips when he catches you looking at him.

Breaking eye contact first, you shake off the feeling of intrigue, knowing you needed to focus on what was next.

You luckily win the next event of one-on-one against the Dublin team, and score more points for the team when you win your match during the Bo staff competition.

"Point, (Y/n) Lawrence! Miyagi-Do wins!" The ref holds your hand up signifying your win.

You see the familiar green gi standing across from you, arms crossed as he watched you. You can't read his face very well, but before you can do anything your team envelopes you proud at your accomplishments.

----------------------------------------------------------

After losing one of the events later in the day, your team stood back with the others watching the first match of the platform fight.

It's like clockwork watching The Iron Dragons captain's fight, they were an unbeatable team. A feeling of want bubbles up inside your stomach as the male captain pounds against his chest, yelling proudly they had won their match

"Was this dude made in a lab?" Hawk asks almost disgusted making you frown.

"He's like a mix between the Winter Soldier and Frankenstein's monster," Demetri adds in.

"Don't call him a monster," Sam interjects. "You don't know him or what he deals with."

Your eyes soften at the girl next to you, looking back up at the tall boy on the platform. He glances down at you and sees your soften expression making him look away.

It was time for Miyagi-Do to go against Dublin Thunder.

Your dad suggests the captain's first, you and Robby, starting off strong.

You're able to keep up with other team, again, Robby is distracted and knocked off.

"Think you're so tough? Well I'll show you tough, bitch," a blonde girl challenges you making you scoff. She's quick to come at you, but after learning Sam's defense, you're able to keep up.

"Don't mess with me, bitch," you spat back at her before catching her hands, and jumping up to use both feet to kick her off the platform.

Your other teammates do their best to protect you, and even sacrifice themselves, but almost everyone is gone when Miguel joins you.

There's one guy and the captain from the other team left, evening out the floor.

As you wait for the male captain to come to you, he laughs in your face mocking the fact that, you a girl, thought you could handle him.

Shutting him up, you take the opportunity to kick him in the face, knocking him off the podium immediately making the crowd around you cheer.

Turning to Miguel, he's just sent the last Dublin Thunder member flying back off the platform, the announcer making it known Miyagi-Do had won and was staying another day.

As you and Miguel jumped with excitement, he moved away from you and pretended to bow down to you. You laughed, pushing him away, your team gathering on to the podium with you guys.

Looking for your dad, you spot him sending him the bow of respect which he returned, and sent you a raised fist.

You see the male captain from the Iron Dragons staring at you, so you take the chance and shoot him a playful wink, making his eyes go wide at your bold gesture.

Maybe he was interested, maybe he wasn't, all you knew was, you didn't want to wait too long before you left Barcelona without knowing for sure.

----------------------------------------------------------

After Miguel and your dad receive bad news of Carmen being in the hospital, they take off back to California, leaving a spot open on your team.

"The guys want to go out, are you up for it?" Sam asks as the two of you lay in your beds completely wiped from the day.

You toss in your spot, debating the idea. It could be fun, you could drink, let loose for the night. But you were also exhausted and wanted to lay here for eternity.

"Maybe it'll help Robby loosen up," your friend suggest making you think again.

"True," you agreed. Your brother needed to get his mind off Tory, perhaps dragging him out and having fun could help just a little.

You were your father's daughter after all.

Throwing the covers off your body, you walk over to your suitcase and pull out a cute outfit to wear. You decided on some torn jean shorts, and a red off the shoulder sweater with a white tank top underneath.

"So I kind of saw something earlier," Sam comes to sit next to you as you curled your lashes in the mirror. She wore a guilty expression, her shoulders sunken down.

"What was it?" You inquire giving her your undivided attention. You knew something was eating at her this evening by the way she was silent and watching the tv but not actually paying attention.

She sighs giving you a look of remorse.

"I saw that captain from the Iron Dragons get hit by his sensei," she unloads. "And not like a sparring hit, he full on smacked him repeatedly to prove a point."

You're taken aback at her witnessing, realizing why she was defending him earlier when Hawk and Demetri were so quick to judge him.

"Oh my god," you whisper. "I can't imagine what he goes through back home."

"He looked so helpless, (Y/n), he's this big strong guy out on the mat but inside..." Sam shakes her head not being able to get the image of the scene from earlier out of her head.

You're at a loss for words, knowing what it was like to be beaten for your mistakes. It was a time you didn't like thinking about.

"I'm glad Robby was able to pull you out of Cobra Kai when he did," she says out of thoughtfulness.

"The broken knuckle really did the trick," you say lightly even though the situation was heavy.

Silver and master Kim favored you being Johnny Lawrence's daughter and that came with a territory. It meant going through extraordinary measures so you could be the best.

"Sorry," Sam apologizes seeing your saddened state. "Let's finish getting ready, the boys are waiting."

You smile faintly, turning back to the mirror to finish applying your mascara. As you leaned in towards your reflection, the pink raised scar just above your cheek, below your left eye, suddenly looked so bright reminding you of just a few months ago.

Much like your brother, you spoke your mind and Silver didn't like it. It lead to being backhanded across the face on a few occasions. You were at rock bottom when you smashed your fist into the rock behind master Kim leading you to a broken knuckle.

Concealer only covered the old wound so much, you pretty much left it uncovered because what was the use?

Swiping on the black liquid over your eyelashes, you and Sam finish getting ready while listening to music and waiting for the guys to come by the room.

---------------------------------------------------------

"This is lame," you pouted glumly, twirling your red straw around the rim of your glass of coke. "Should we look for some weed?"

"When the hell have you ever done weed?" Your brother narrows his eyes at you.

“You don’t know me and what I do when I’m not around you,” you provoke the dirty blonde next to you.

Sam looks over at you amused between you and your brother’s banter.

“You would have called me the minute you got stoned, your light weight ass called me after two beers crying because you had the spins,” Robby retorts.

“I don’t recall,” you blink. Standing up from the table, you grab your phone slipping it in your back pocket. “I’m gonna go for a walk, maybe score some crack.”

“Alright cracky, we’ll be here,” your brother says averting his attention to the girl who just sauntered into the bar. It was Tory.

You motion for Sam to call you incase anything happens, to which she nods in agreement.

Trailing down the sidewalk, you see the entrance to the beach making you giddy inside. You loved the sound of the crashing waves, the moon shining over the dark water.

As you walk closer to the water, you see a familiar face practicing a kata routine, sending a wave of nerves through your system. This was your moment.

“Nice moves,” you spoke, slowly approaching the shirtless boy who froze at the sight of you.

“T-Thank you,” he stutters out, his low accent sending butterflies through your stomach. You’d listen to anything he had to say if it meant getting to hear him talk again.

“I’m (Y/n),” you introduce yourself while squatting down to sit on the light grainy surface beneath you.

“Axel,” he responds finally giving you a name to the face. Axel. It was unique. He turns to pick up his shirt and jacket, a trail of bruises lining up along his back making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Those must hurt,” you say making him stand up straight. “The back takes awhile to heal.”

“From Bo staff competition,” he attempts to graze over the subject avoiding your eyes.

“No they’re not,” you respond softly. “I watched you knock down that kid from Panthre team in three strikes.”

“I- uh- should probably go, I am not supposed to speak to opponent,” Axel attempts to escape the conversation only for you to push back.

Looking around your scenery dramatically, you say, “I don’t see any referees around here.”

Axel can’t help but crack a smile at your silliness, making you feel warm inside.

“You are funny,” he says taking a few steps closer to you.

“Funny enough to make you stay and talk to me?” You purpose glancing up at him with your batting lashes.

He chuckles, taking a seat on the ground next to you.

“My sensei wants me to be the best,” he says referring back to your earlier conversation. “It is because of him, I never lose.”

You watch the ocean water slowly trickle near you, barely missing the tip of your feet by a few inches.

"Discipline doesn't mean abuse your students," you explain lightly. "I used to think getting hit meant I was held to higher standard."

"What does it mean then?" Axel questions curiously. You feel him staring at the side of your face, waiting patiently for your response.

"It means we're their only outlet for control," you answer simply. "And as far as I'm concerned, I'm no one's puppet."

You begin to trace circles in the sand beneath you, aware the boy was still gazing over you.

"Is...Is that how you got this?" He reaches over, gently running his pointer finger over the faded scar below your eye. His touch left tingles on your face.

You nod unable to verbally confirm his suspicion, his hand dropping back to his side.

"The boys back home love it," you joke sarcastically attempting to lighten the mood. Axel gives you a lopsided smile, appreciating your humor somehow being able to mix in with the heavy topic.

"Your male captain, is that your boyfriend?" He asks catching you by surprise. You let out a 'pfft' finding his question absolutely hilarious.

"Absolutely not," you giggled. "He's my brother."

"Oh, makes sense," he laughs with you. You take a moment to look at him, really look at him, and admire his pretty physique.

The way his eyes were light blue like the ocean across from you, but held a shade of sea green in them with a speck of yellow, you could stare into those orbs for a lifetime.

"You have pretty eyes," you say so effortlessly making him do a double take at you. You were so confident, not only with your words, but with the way you carried yourself and the way you go into a fight.

The tip of his nose turns red along with his cheeks, his eyes flickering between you and his shoes.

"Thank you. You are so pretty, it makes me nervous," he admits shyly. Scooting closer to him, you lean your head to lay on his shoulder, and at first he freezes never been in a situation like this before with a girl.

But when he breathes in your floral shampoo, he can't help but let his guard down and relax beneath your position.

"If it's any consolation. I think you're pretty too," you tease him. "I was afraid we'd never talk before this tournament ends."

Axel barks a laugh at your choice of words, 'pretty?' That was new.

"We always seem to find each other," he says glancing down at you. "Tournament, mat..."

You look up at him, his pupils dilated with desire making your heart race. Feeling the tension of intensity between you, you notice his jaw tightening, lips parted slightly.

"The beach," you whisper, your eyes trailing down to his pink lips.

You turned to look at him first, you winked at him, you came up to him, you had the upper hand. He wanted to be the one to initiate the kiss first.

Slowly, deliberately, Axel leans in. His face inches towards yours, and the warmth of his breath hitting you. He hesitates just before your lips meet, your heart feeling like it's going to explode.

You suddenly feel his hand envelop your cheek, his thumb lightly running across the faded scar, letting you know you were safe.

Then, gently, his lips press against yours, tentative at first, as if testing the waters, before deepening the kiss, each movement slow and deliberate, a soft surrender to the moment you've both been waiting for.

You can't help but smile into the kiss, the electrifying and sparkling feeling running through your limbs, you could jump up and sprint circles around the beach because of the spark you felt.

"Wow," Axel breathes out, his mind spinning from the consumption of your lips. You let out a soft chuckle, pressing your forehead to his.

"Indeed," you agreed playfully. It feels like the world around you has ceased to exist and the two of you relinquish in this sweet moment, completely captivated by one another.

You lean in again to reconnect your buzzing lips, never wanting to return to what waited for you beyond the sand.

---------------------------------------------------------

The next day, you're still high on the feeling from last night's interactions with Axel.

"I feel like crap," Robby groaned with his face in his hands as you, Sam, and him ate breakfast together in the hotel buffet.

"I feel great!" You chirped taking a bite out of your piece of bacon.

"Don't yell," he hushed you glaring at your cheerful state. You roll your eyes, reaching into your jean pocket to pull out two pills of Aleve, smacking them down on the table for your hungover brother.

"I didn't even hear you come in last night," Sam says her blue eyes averting to yours as she took a sip of her orange juice.

Glancing down at your plate, you began to cut up your waffles trying to come up with an excuse. You knew you could tell Sam with no judgment, but your brother on the other hand...

"Well you know when I go on a beach, my shell hunting instincts kick in and once I get started on that," you smoothly respond.

Your curly hair friend nods knowing you loved your shells, and that in fact is a whole ordeal.

"I'm pretty full," you say after finishing off your glass of milk. "I'll meet you back in the room."

Robby is taking the medication, shuddering at the gulp he takes.

"So much for being a light weight," you jab at him.

"Whatever, weirdo," he shakes his head beginning to dig into his scrambled eggs.

You roll your eyes and grab your plate to place in a trash bin, and head back to the elevators. As you opened your phone feed to scroll through your latest feed, you're suddenly pulled away from your trail, causing you to yelp.

Axel tugged you in close to his chest, tucking you two into a secluded corner.

"Good morning to you too," you grin widely, laying your hands against his firm chest. He's gazing down at you no longer feeling vulnerable, but comfortable with you.

"Morning," he hums nuzzling his nose against yours sending your heart fluttering. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your old wound upon your cheek first, then grazes his lips with your own.

"I have not stopped thinking about you," Axel murmurs against your mouth making your heart feel full.

"What the hell?"

You whip your head around seeing your brother standing a few feet away from you, staring back at you in disbelief.

"Robby, please," you scoff letting go of the boy you were holding on to.

"You're kidding me right?" The green eyed boy motions to the slavic boy behind you. "He's our biggest rival, you can't be with the competition."

Your jaw fell open at the hypocrisy his advice, making your blood boil.

"Back off Robby, you don't want to go there," you threaten him.

"No, let's go," he says reaching out for your hand, practically taking your arm off. Axel is quick to grab your other free hand, pulling you back towards him.

"Let go of me!" You shout planting your feet in place making both boys release their grip from you.

"Not you," you glance back at the boy you were kissing a minute ago, holding your hand out for him which he takes immediately. Robby rubs a hand over his face letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I don't know what your deal is, but get it together," you seethe almost embarrassed at the whole situation at hand. You'd be lucky if Axel gave you a second look after this.

Your brother glares up at Axel, flaring his nostrils, and making a fist with both hands.

"If I find out you're messing with her, or playing some kind of cruel joke just for the benefit of this tournament," Robby inches closer to quiet boy next to you, his voice lowering to a threatening tone. "I will beat your ass into the ground."

"Jesus, Robby," you mutter feeling the flush creeping up your neck as Axel shifts uncomfortably beside you, clearly caught off guard by Robby’s sudden outburst.

You give him a quick, apologetic glance before turning back to your brother, your voice softer but still trying to get through to him. "I’m fine, okay?"

Your sibling nods, gazing over at Axel one last time before walking off into the opposite direction.

"I am so sorry," you sputter out profusely. "He's going through something right now and-"

"It is okay," Axel reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulder. "He is protecting you."

"He's annoying," you give him a sarcastic smile making him chuckle. He runs his hands down your arms, lacing his fingers through yours.

"I am on my way to get some breakfast, care to join me?" He asks thoughtfully. Even though you were full on waffles and bacon, you weren't gonna pass up the opportunity to spend more time with him.

After all, there was a fruit and açaí bar you skipped out on.

"I'd love to," you smile up at him. Stepping on your tippy toes, you stretch your neck up and press your lips to his tenderly.

You didn't know where this was going, or what it may lead to, but you could enjoy this time with this beautiful boy for now.

---------------------------------------------------------

(a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄hope y'all are enjoying your holidays, sorry this was kind of long. Next thing I write will be a non-request, can't wait for you all to read it!)

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 9

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.9

“Why don’t criminals trust stairs?”

“Stanley, I am trying to work.”

“Because they’re always up to something.”

*Ford covering his mouth with his hand because he’s trying really hard not to laugh*

“Why don’t criminals like elevators? Because they hate getting taken down.”

*Ford faceplanting on his desk and slamming his fist on it because he’s trying not to laugh*

“What do you call a criminal snob going downstairs? A condescending con descending.”

“E-enough! I’m going to put you on mute if you don’t stop.”

“Ah, come on man. It’s not like I got much else to do here. I can’t even write in that notebook you guys gave me anymore cause I got nothing to write with.”

“Maybe you would still have writing utensils if we didn't run out because you chewed up all of the other ones we gave you.”

“I can’t help it, PhD. I’m on day seven of nicotine withdrawal and it’s still kicking my ass. I get that this whole lab is a ‘no smoking’ zone, but I saw stretch using dip, and you didn’t say anything; just looked at him in a passive aggressive, judgemental way.”

“Tobacco is a nasty habit, and you are better off losing that vice while you’re still in a controlled environment. Our father never kicked it on his own, so this is really for your own-.”

“Yeah, yeah Doc. For my own good. I’ve heard it a million times. Do you like, keep score of how many times you say that, is someone keeping track of it? Or is that your only excuse for the insane crap you’re always pulling.”

“If it will placate you and keep you quiet, I’ll wheel over a television.”

“You have one of those down here?”

“I primarily use it as a device that decrypts thoughts, but its original function is still intact. Let me bring it over.”

“How uncharacteristically considerate of you.”

“You’re watching The Black and White Period Piece Old Lady Boring Movie Channel.”

“Wait a second, where's the remote?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Stay tuned for the six episode marathon of The Six Wives of Henry VIII, starring Keith Michell as Henry VIII, Annette Crosbie as Catherine of Aragon, Dorothy Tutin as Anne Boleyn-”

“Change the channel. PhD, I swear to God.”

“Anne Stallybrass as Jane Seymour, Elvi Hale as Anne of Cleves, Angela Pleasance as Catherine Howard, and Rosalie Crutchley as Catherine Parr.”

“No- NO!”

*Ford presses the mute button on the cell*

(...)

160 minutes later…

“Stanford, I brought those scrap m- what in Sam Hell?”

“I appreciate it, Fiddleford.”

“Is there a particular reason Stan is staring unblinking at that TV screen?”

“I put on a soap opera because I thought he would hate it. But he… really got into it.”

“Is that the same reason why his desk chair is smashed in the corner?”

“Yes, there was a plot twist he did not find agreeable. I tried to change the channel after one episode, but he gave me such a look that I truly believe if I did, he would find a way to break the forcefield just to strangle me.”

“That’s… Not what I expected from someone like him.”

“I’ve never seen him get this way. Not even during a baseball game or boxing match where he made the wrong bet.”

“It can’t rightly be that interesting.” 

*Fiddleford pulls up a chair near the cell to watch the TV*

“You both do that. I still have important research to document.”

(...)

240 minutes later…

*all three of them are staring at the TV and don’t start blinking until the credits roll*

“I’ll tell you what, fellers, I can’t believe Gardiner got away with everything.”

“I know, right? Whatever Jesus approves of, I’m sure it’s not that.”

"We're Jewish, Stanley."

"Really? Well that explains why I distinctly remember the Aryan Brotherhood nearly beating me to death in prison."

"They what?!"

"Calm down PhD, I said nearly."

(...)

"Stanley, it has almost been ten days, it’s time to remove your stitches."

"Give me some nail clippers, I'll do it myself."

"Properly. Come on, don't be such a wuss about it."

“Can’t F do it instead?”

“No, he is in town on a supply run. Also, the only difference between you and I and under that shirt is the amount of rolls.”

“Ouch, low blow PhD. It’s not like you’re a runway model either. Fine, but any more cracks on my weight, and I’m going to remind you I’m a threat inside and outside of bars.”

"What are these, circles-? Wait, burns? ...Who did this to you?"

"... Don't worry about it."

"I am going to worry about it! Stanley, who did this?"

"It doesn't matter..."

"It does! Please, I'm your brother just-"

"Don't make me think about it, I don’t remember a lot but- I don't like remembering that."

"Oh Stanley." *hugs him even though it isn't returned* "I'm so sorry. Whatever happened, you didn't deserve that."

"You'd be surprised."

To be continued...

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

Bayverse Tipsy HCs

I went to a fun lil bar with some friends tonight and as I was looking around, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of drinkers the guys would be...so here we are. Everyone is 25+ (drink responsibly)

mentions alcohol, obviously

-Raph is a lightweight. Like a few drinks, and he's laughing and goofing around with Mikey like he's 16 again, messing with his brothers and telling stories; like a weight comes off his shoulders and he can relax, a lopsided smile plastered on his face.

-Leo only drinks sake (for the aesthetic). Mikey makes fun if him relentlessly (he calls Leo a weeb, in sibling name-calling fun). Leo claims he likes the taste, but Mike has compared the spirit to sweaty socks on multiple occasions. Leo will roll his eyes as he sips from his cup, Mikey and Raph giving him endless shit- but no one misses the wince as he swallows.

-Mike is the party dude- always has been, always will be. When he's feelin' it, he's all smiles and laughter until everyone else goes to bed for the night; sometimes staying up even later to play videogames by himself, or to text a friend, so the fun doesn't end too soon. He's the party instigator, turning movie nights into drinking games, or card games into waterfall. The guy loves to have a good time- and to turn his brain off so he doesn't have to think for a while.

-Don is a wild card. He likes whiskey, scotch, or bourbon- but doesn't drink to get drunk, he just genuinely enjoys the taste (Mikey and Raph know better than to make fun of Donnie, cause of threats that will be followed through on). When he wants to party, though, he rolls a joint in the back of his lab and lights up a fat one; and the man is alllll giggles when he's stoned- just a happy high going on while he watches his brothers with amusement on his face, and a bag of pork rinds in his hand.

-Mikey knows that Donnie smokes, and the brothers occasionally sneak off together to a tunnel far away enough from the lair that mother hen (Leo) won't smell anything (Leo knows, he's not an idiot). Leo doesn't really care, he's mostly just annoyed that they feel like they need to hide it from him. Raph smoked with them a few times, but it just made him paranoid- so he just sticks to what works.

-Raph gets goofy when he's tipsy; sometimes singing along to the music Mikey puts on the stereo, sometimes dancing to it in the middle on the living room- but always having a good time. He would 100% put the lampshade on his head and dance around to Elvis if he felt like it (90s movies). Loveable drunk guy energy.

-Leo is the sad girl drunk- getting emotional for seemingly no reason, abruptly leaving the room, then coming back an hour later and demanding an apology when every one else has forgotten what in the hell he's talking about. He feels things so much deeper when his guards are down; much quicker to anger, quicker to cry. He also wants to talk about deep things when he's tipsy, much to Mikey's irritation.

-Mikey has jackass energy when he's trashed. Like, let's ride this shopping cart off this ramp and see how far it goes into the street. Or what will happen if we shoot fireworks off in the tunnels? Or let's go down to the Hudson and see if we can spar underwater. Raph is his ride or die when it comes to his drunken schemes, but Leo always manages to shut down their plans somehow (he's not afraid to tattletale).

-Mikey can drink all of them under the table though, even Splinter.

-The guys' favorite game to play is beer pong- Raph is the undisputed champion of singles, but Mikey and Leo have won doubles every tournament for two years in a row. Donnie and Raph together can't focus long enough for the competition; Raph getting distracted by the music, and Donnie laughing too hard at him to aim the ball.

-Once Donnie set a glass of six raw eggs in front of a hungover Mikey, sliding it to him and mumbling about a hangover cure as Raph recorded them on his phone from the hallway to the kitchen. Splinter walked in as Mikey spit the mixture everywhere, and they were cleaning up egg yolk from the walls for a week.

-When Leo does let go of the control and anxiety, he has so much fun goofing around with his brothers like they used to as kids. It warms his heart to see them all gathered around a table, playing games and spending time together, as adults. He loves them so much. No Mike, I'm just a little tired, that's why- yeah, don't worry about it.

tags : @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @zombiesnips-blog @4evrdreamin5 @gornackeaterofworlds @the-cauldron-witch @pheradream-15 @iridescentflamingo @scholastic-dragon

this was so fun lol :) as always, hit me up if you wanna join the tag train 18+

[buglass]

Funny How Time Slips Away

Mature 18+

Summary: By 2025 in an alternate dystopian future, America is under an authoritarian dictatorship. To sustain the economy, one of the few tricks the government has permitted is biological advances allowing the biggest stars in entertainment to be cloned, trained, and sold to the masses as they once were before. At long last, Elvis Presley’s DNA is next to be developed and brought back to life. Melody Cunningham, a developmental biologist, questions over time if what Truman Laboratory and the government are doing is ethical. Risking her career and life, she must decide if enough is enough to help the new Elvis escape. Pairing: Elvis Presley x Melody Cunningham!Black!OFC Chapters: 1/? WC: 3.6K+ Warnings: Authoritarian/dystopian society AU, oral, p in v, slight age gap, sex worker, uncut, sci-fi sciency biology nonsense, cussing, etc. A/N: This idea popped into my head because who wouldn’t want Elvis to be alive right now? Enjoy this sci-fi/dystopian take <3 Kind of a long one but so much detail had to be crammed in. Likely shorter chapters in the future lol Read Chapter 2 here.

The Washington D.C. lab was as cold as most of the minds that filled it. Melody wasn’t brought up to be emotionless but when the country was turned over into the hands of one man and the government bent over to follow, much of her life had changed as she knew it. So she put on the facade of being a loyal subject and obsessively studious. Melody wasn’t much of a fan of anything to do with structure and working out of an office, so she focused on majoring in STEM. The only way she felt her mind could be stimulated in the way music, television shows, and movies did for her was by being on her feet in a lab.

Melody chewed on her bottom lip as she flipped through the notes on the tablet. As the underling to the head biologist, she was meant to double and triple check stats and findings on the subjects. That’s what the people in their vats were meant to be referred to--subjects. Not human beings or real people. Lately, the older she got and the less naive she became to the government’s rule, Melody quietly questioned if she could live with herself. Since she joined Truman Labs last year after six rigorous years of higher education, she put on a show of doing what she was told and doing it better than anyone else who came before her. Melody’s eyes drifted over one famous face after the other, recognizing a few and others not as much. 

Checking the queue of who was next to fill the empty columns was nothing abnormal. Her eyes drifted over the list of five new names, using her index finger to scan over each paragraph describing the traits attached to the subject. The very bottom of the list and final name stated ‘Elvis Presley’ and his specimen number ‘EP3577’. Melody heard of Elvis Presley, sure, but since the government regulated the Internet since she was a teenager, delving into older celebrities and music was based on physical media she could obtain. 

In the following months, Melody bit her tongue and did as she was told. Elvis’s DNA was collected back in his Army days, she read, the notes describing how his specimen was obtained were as simple as that. It was the company’s way of assuring there was more DNA to spare if need be. A short clip, to her surprise, showed a young Elvis Presley in black and white getting his hair cut on a military installation that stood today. Melody was taken by the sadness that crossed his face and the smile he put on for show. 

The weeks carried on until the sac surrounding what could appear to be a fetus grew rapidly within its vestibule. Melody watched and monitored him as the weeks grew into months and he was a full-fledged young man of about twenty to twenty-one years old. That’s how the government and the world liked them. Each celebrity was youthful and spry so they ultimately had a long enough lifespan to be useful again. Melody didn’t know what it was about him that stuck out to her besides how handsome he was. She had seen plenty of handsome men and beautiful women come through the lab. Knowing he died at forty-two may have affected her or it was the commercials broadcasted as of late promising to bring him back to the stage. 

She hated it.

She hated knowing they would soon keep him under lock and key the same way the real Elvis had been. That’s what her grandmother who raised her was able to convey one of the nights they met for dinner.

“Now, baby, we shouldn’t talk much about Before. I don’t mind it. They already know how excited folks are about Elvis returnin’.” Her grandmother said.

“Yeah… I was just curious.” Melody offered. Her grandmother had no clue that she worked for Truman Labs. Only that she’s a scientist with an okay-paying job that helps her get by on her own to afford an apartment and modest car.

“He was just eccentric. One of the first White boys that brought flavor and rhythm to America’s attention. Back then,” she clasps her hands over her bowl of food. “Similar to now, you weren’t supposed to be gyratin’ and swingin’ your hips on TV. It was lewd. I’m surprised they want to bring him back at that age.” 

“Do you still have some of his records?” Melody asked, stirring her food nonchalantly.

“Of course, baby. Go on and listen to whatever you like. Finish up your food first, you’re a growin’ young girl.”

“Grandma, I’m twenty-five years old,” Melody laughed.

“You’ll always be my baby. Now hush and eat.” Her grandmother dismissed, causing Melody to smile.

That evening she reacquainted herself with Elvis Presley’s music and gratefully enamored with the vinyls of Elvis simply talking or being interviewed. His southern drawl was much thicker than some of the southern twangs Melody encountered in the metropolitan area. 

She softened for him a little more, hardly noticing it once she was back at work.

The following week, Melody was checking vitals as necessary but lingered on Elvis a while longer. The application displayed everything from Elvis’s heartbeat to statistics of survivability. The lead biologist, Randall, wandered over to her side and crossed his arms over his chest as he peeked over to the tablet. He was pushing forty or already well into his forties. She wasn’t sure. The gray hairs among the brown strands and his bushy mustache threw her off. He was lean and tall, a bit too wiry for her liking. Melody knew when he was nearby because he always sprayed too much cologne. 

“You’ve taken a liking to him, haven’t you?” Randall, leaned over to whisper jokingly.

“Ha, ha. I’m only being cautious so months of our hard work comes to fruition,” she glanced over to him and then back to Elvis. His genetically blond hair was spliced into being as black as his mother’s. It was insisted upon to save costs on his appearance. Melody watched his floating and bobbing figures, a couple of tubes connected to him swishing in the life-sustaining substance.

“It’s okay to like him. Every girl your age back then did. More or less. The world will be happy to have him back.” Randall nodded, looking up at Elvis. She screwed her mouth to the side while debating what to say and what not to.

“What about his family? Doesn’t he still have relatives that are alive today?”

“Some, but who would speak out against the regime? They’ll end up with a bullet between their eyes before someone intervenes on a family’s behalf.” Randall lowered his voice.

“Right,” Melody answered tersely.

“Are you alright, Mel? You’ve been tense lately.” Randall asked, crinkling his brows.

“This is just…important. It’s nothing more than the usual stress. I’m okay.” She nodded.

“Well, don’t be afraid to let me know if you need to put in some leave. Give the rest of these freeloaders something to do.” Randall said, clapping a friendly hand on her back. He left to check on the said freeloaders and Melody felt her shoulders drop as the tension left her. 

The day came when the five subjects would be transferred to the Training Wing. Melody was anxious about the entire process. The Training Wing could be stringent and border on abusive, from what she heard. Each celebrity clone needed something in particular about them ingrained into them in a small amount of time. Truman Labs was manufacturing nature versus nurture. In the past year, she learned that some things were just ingrained in every person. Sure, they had to be retaught how to play an instrument or act but they picked up on it like they were born to do it. 

One of the other scientists pulled the switch down for the specific group to be drained, a yellow light flashing above his head to alert what was happening. Melody couldn’t stand still, pacing and attached to the tablet as she checked the vitals of all five persons. They slowly lowered to the bottom of their tanks, a few crumpling where they ended up and unable to walk if they tried. Elvis was one of the few that started to come to and open his eyes. His hair hung in his face and he raised a hand slowly to wipe it from his forehead. The awaiting training teams dressed from head to two in white scrubs stood by with five gurneys, two to one. The first few doors were opened with a hiss as they began removing tubes and strongarming the subjects, loading them up onto the carts and strapping their soaked forms in.

Elvis’s head rolled when he was on the cart, his eyes landing on Melody as she stood back. Her full lips parted as his strikingly blue eyes focused on her and his unstrapped arm hung off the gurney as if reaching out. That was strange as the subjects were usually too disoriented to acknowledge what was going on but there he was focused on Melody. She swallowed hard and dropped her eyes back to the tablet, checking his vitals. Elvis’s heart rate had gone up and by the time she was looking at him again, he was using what little strength he had to bat off the training team members. 

“Do you have a sedative on hand?” Asked one of the escorts, a stocky woman.

Melody was distracted by Elvis’s eyes holding her gaze, impressed by how much he shoved against the hands trying to wrestle him down. The whimpering sounds he made tugged at her, stabbing into her gut and up into her heart. There was that uncomfortable feeling again, seeing him as a person and not a lab rat. Melody nodded distractedly once she regained her internal composure. The tablet was left on a desk as she walked over to one of the few refrigerators that held all sorts of drugs and syringes on hand. Melody made quick work of drawing the sedative up into a sterile needle and approached Elvis’s gurney, plucking at it to clear out any bubbles. 

Elvis seemed to calm down the closer she got to him until he saw how sharp the needle was. He made a sound of discomfort, cringing as Melody gained in on him and turned over his arm.

“It won’t hurt too much,” she told him gently. “You’ll sleep,” Melody said, hoping he understood enough. Injecting the sedative, Elvis looked unsure and the space between his brows crinkled. His expression changed within seconds, his face relaxing until his eyes rolled shut.

“Thanks. He’s one strong son of a bitch,” said the same woman. “I thought they hardly knew what was going on at first?”

“Me too,” the male training member cosigned, exhaling a deep breath.

“Yeah, I don’t know. That was new for me, too.” Melody whispered, bringing a hand up into her hair and scratching at her head.

The first few days were always the toughest for the subjects when adjusting to their bodies and their unusually developed minds for their age. It had been just over six months since they were processed in a tube to where they were now under watchful eyes and cameras recording their every move. Elvis had his own housing as they all did. In some form or fashion, the apartment-like housing quarters were meant to replicate where they lived when they were that age as much as possible. The notes labeled his living space simply as ‘Audobon’ for the street he lived on back in nineteen-fifty-six. Every inch of the living quarters was paneled by two-sided glass that Elvis couldn’t see through but any observers could always watch him from room to room.

Melody observed as his caretakers and teachers filtered in and out over the days and weeks, teaching Elvis how to dress and carry himself. His guitar lessons were scheduled here and there in between and his speech therapist would usually follow. He was doing well besides the slight stutter he had grown accustomed to. But, the collective notes reassured her it was very characteristic of him after all. Any other free time was focused on what Melody called 'The Brainwashing' where a VR headset with subliminal images displaying the past of the real celebrity was given to the clone after they were sedated for up to an hour a day. Sometimes music or movies were played over the speakers too while they slept.

Elvis and Melody had yet to see one another directly since he was strapped to the gurney. As was protocol, Melody checked on the subjects solely for their vitals and acuity. Admittedly, she couldn’t wait for the day to come to encounter Elvis for herself. When the day did come, the steel door to his housing clicked as the large bolts holding it in place were unlocked after approval for entry was gained. The stethoscope around her neck felt heavy. Melody held the tablet at her side. She bumped the blood pressure cuff in her lab coat pocket, nervous to meet Elvis though she had long since come to terms that most of the celebrities weren’t who they were made to be. It felt inauthentic to her either way and yet Elvis filled her stomach with butterflies.

Melody stepped inside and waited for the door behind her to shut. Another heavy clunk and she was locked in with Elvis. From what she had observed, he grew used to his circumstances though he sometimes lashed out at the staff when he didn’t quite get his way. He was genetically a Presley--it was fitting. Melody followed the sound of guitar strumming and playing, finding him in his bedroom lying back on his bed in the same fifties garb he would have worn with the guitar atop of him. She knocked at the door out of politeness, shuffling into the room. Elvis lifted his head suddenly, jumping as he looked over to her. His eyes went wide as he moved to sit up.

“You’re that lady from the-the lab? Where they took me from,” he said warily though he appeared awestruck.

“I am. I’m Melody and here to check on your vitals. Is that okay with you?” She shuffled, clasping her hands together and the tablet against her stomach.

“You told me before that shot wasn’t gonna hurt any,” Elvis said, moving his guitar to his side on the bed. “You lied ta me.”

Melody didn’t know what to make of him, squinting just as a smile grew on his face. Her lips parted in thought before she found herself laughing.

“I’m sorry, but I had to be sure you stayed calm. It’s all protocol we have to follow. Not somethin’ I necessarily wanted to do.” She pressed her lips together, amused. 

“Mm, I see. I’m gettin’ used to it, the pokin’ and proddin’,” Elvis said playfully. 

Melody crossed the room humming in return, placing the tablet on the bed. She drew out the blood pressure cuff from her coat pocket and stood in front of Elvis. His socked feet were flat on the floor, his back straight as he let his hands lie in his lap. Melody grabbed a hold of the left sleeve of his button-up shirt to begin rolling it up.

“I’m sorry you’re bein’ poked and prodded,” she amended.

“Most of ‘em aren’t as pretty as you,” he tried as he looked down at her hands. “Otherwise, it’s, uh, not so bad.”

“You are just a baby, you know that?” Melody laughed as he raised a brow. Elvis might have looked twenty-one but to her, he was just a boy.

“Not where it matters,” Elvis smirked.

She should have known to expect it but to her knowledge, Elvis never openly dated Black women. Melody narrowed her eyes and didn’t respond, focusing on the task at hand as she finally got the cuff around his arm. The earplugs to the stethoscope were brought up before she took the bell and pressed it into the nook of Elvis’s arm. His eyes never left her while Melody honed in on his pulse and squeezed the pump to the cuff. Elvis’s free hand began to wander, lifting until it settled on her waist. Melody jumped, unable to bat him away while she watched the seconds tick by on her worn wristwatch. She never thought to take any of the warnings seriously about how much he enjoyed touch and attention. The job should have been mostly in and out. 

That was how most of her visits went and she wanted to be less entertained and inviting to Elvis’s woes and whims, but he was unbelievably personable. His charisma was that of the original Elvis who died in seventy-seven. For the benefit of making Elvis into Elvis, the lab as a whole and inspectors didn’t seem to mind when he grew fond of someone. In their notes, everyone appeared to agree it was for the better that Elvis remained a lady’s man through and through. 

Then came the time for Elvis to be given the first woman of many that he would come to encounter within the lab alone. After a few months of running jokes about watching Elvis touch himself, Melody put her feelings aside for the sake of following rules. A year was coming up since Melody first synthesized Elvis’s DNA and she came to like him and borderline possibly love him. The latter was something she struggled to admit even to herself. As was custom to the rock stars Truman Labs created, there were women on hand and hired as was the norm for the New Age. Agencies of sex workers contracted with the government and most favored working in the biotechnical field strictly for the chance to bed a celebrity. 

Melody could have thrown up. She knew somewhere around this age that Elvis slept with a woman for the first time but she didn’t see why it mattered. When men were in control, it didn’t have to make sense. She guessed it was like they took pity on the male subjects to validate their collective horniness. She was on the evening shift that night, grateful to be mostly alone apart from a couple of others who made the arrangements to provide protection and essentials for a romantic evening. Anyone else was in the Security Center monitoring. 

She roamed around to the glass window that peered into Elvis’s bedroom where a thin but curvaceous woman with a pixie cut dressed in a tight black dress befitting of the fifties era was leading him by hand. Elvis was slack-jawed, a tent bulging in his trousers. Melody tried to refrain from being jealous when they were on the couch watching a movie together and Elvis made the first move, tipping the woman’s chin in his direction to kiss her. She didn’t blame either one of them. 

But why did she feel that way? 

The woman--going by Jenny--pushed Elvis down onto his bed and he grunted, staring up with wide eyes that only a virgin could convey. “I-I ain’t never done this before,” he said.

“Oh, I know, honey. I’ll be real sweet to you. I promise,” Jenny said, her voice buttery and recognizably southern.

Then she was kneeling between Elvis’s legs, rubbing her hands up his pant-covered thighs. Melody swallowed as she forgot about the notes she was meant to be taking as she had done a hundred times before. Jenny reached up to unbutton and unzip Elvis’s pants as he perched himself on his elbows. Elvis released a shaky breath as he lifted up his hips while Jenny wrenched his trousers and underwear away. His uncut cock sprung free and Jenny cooed at Elvis warmly. The way he was trembling, Melody was sure he wasn’t going to last any longer than a few minutes and that meant they would have to book her again. 

Melody groaned as she rubbed her brow, forcing herself to move to a different spot. She wanted to tell herself she didn’t need to look but her eyes were on them again. Jenny was quick since by then her lips were wrapped around Elvis’s length and she bobbed carefully. He held the base of his cock for her, his opposite hand gentle on the back of her head. Melody froze, watching his face convulse and change with every movement. 

“Fuck, baby, you keep doin’ that and I’ll… I’ll come,” Elvis grunted. Jenny made obscene mouth noises as she pulled off of him and his cock jumped as cool air met wet skin. 

“It’s okay if you do. But, I guess I can stop.” Jenny smiled, pulling back. Elvis breathed out in response as if he was relieved to hear it. “Do you have a condom, sweetie?” She asked.

“Yeah, uh, yeah. One second, honey.” Elvis sat up, reaching down into the pocket the pants pooling around his ankles. He dug free a shiny, square blue wrapper that Jenny took as she stood. She moved skillfully, tearing the plastic and removing the condom. Jenny rolled the rubber on familiarly, moving with ease over top of Elvis to straddle him with her dress and heels on. 

Elvis braced his hands at her hips, watching her with heavy-lidded bedroom eyes that caused an ache deep below Melody’s belt. Her heart was racing and she shivered, hoping the attention from every other observer assigned to Elvis that evening was on the couple. Melody was gripping her tablet hard enough her hand was starting to hurt before she noticed. Elvis’s head fell back as Jenny sunk down onto him, eventually lying flat on his back as her hips bounced.

Melody cleared her throat, suddenly sure she had all the notes she needed and could later review the recording if necessary. Elvis’s eyes opened again at some point and he turned away from Jenny to look toward the window he couldn’t see out of. Melody paused again, wary that he could see her somehow. His top lip curled as he moaned out and he shut his eyes again, his hands sliding under Jenny’s dress by her hand showing him where to touch her. Melody turned on her heel to return to her desk in the lab.

“Oh, my God,” Elvis hissed, his voice echoing into the hall over a speaker.

Melody was screwed.

[namraniiverse]

my drs! 𐙚

i saw someone suggest that i talk about my drs, and why not?

—————————————————————————————————-

↣ bully: not to be confused with a dr where i bully people! that’s just the name of the game. i don’t want to spoil too much, but it basically takes place in a boarding school in new england called bullworth academy, and there are different cliques that jimmy hopkins has to earn the trust of. i scripted im a greaser, in my final year of high school. this dr holds a very special place in my heart.

↣ team fortress two: with the final comic coming out, and now that there’s so much more lore, i had to do a bit of editing to my script 😭. tf2 is a multiplayer fps game from valve, and it is super goofy, i love it. i made my own class called the marine! ill probably make a post about my dr selves at some point.

↣ kpop dr: so in this dr there’s a lot of my cr in it, i scripted my cr friends and s/o because they hold a very special place in my heart. in this dr, im basically the same except i did script out a couple of my insecurities. im a soloist under jyp entertainment! this is probably one of my oldest drs, but with time i have changed it up a bit.

↣ golden hollywood dr: i deadass made this one just to be with elvis. he’s my s/o 😼. in this dr, im also a singer/actress like he is and my dr self is literally the queen park jihyo.

↣ harry potter: harry potter but im a teacher! i replaced binns as the history of magic teacher, and my fc is hikaru from kep1er. i also tied it to the plot of the mobile game hogwarts mystery, because i was obsessed with it in like 2020 and it’s basically become a part of me. my godson is draco malfoy.

↣ bnha: this is more of a new dr, i haven’t worked on this one very well but im basically this like robot/scientifically made creature if it makes sense. i look human and have qualities of a human being but i was made in a lab, similar to a nomu? guys where am i going with this help…

↣ waiting room: i figured i needed a place to just chill before shifting right away, so i made myself a cozy little cottage.

anyway those are all of the places im shifting to! thanks for reading :)

[shelbgrey]

My MasterList of Stories

Master List part 2

~request are open

Julie and the phantoms

The Sopranos

Cobra Kai (adult Johnny and Hawk only)

Codes:

Smut=❤️‍🔥 Fluff=💕 Angst=💔 Funny=💖 Horror=🫀

🔬Bones💀

Dr. Lance Sweets:

Smut Alphabet❤️‍🔥

Caught in the act ❤️‍🔥

Dating Lance Sweets HC💕❤️‍🔥

Adventures in babysitting💕

You belong with me💕

Lance Sweets as a Dad headcanons💕

Dream Warriors💔🫀

Bones Halloween Special🫀💖

Code baby Part 1 💕

Let me take your pain away💕💔

Dr. Jack Hodgins:

Can't buy me love💔💕

Jack Hodgins Having a little sister💕

What's it gonna take to get you out of his lab?❤️‍🔥

Agent Seeley Booth:

Dating Seeley Booth Headcanons💕❤️‍🔥

Being Seeley Booth's Best friend HCs💕

Friends to Lovers Headcanons💕

The day we met💕

In the name of love💕

Agent James Aubrey:

Falling in love with James Aubrey after losing Lance 💔💕

Falling in love with James Aubrey after losing Lance Sweets part 2💕❤️‍🔥

Smut Alphabet❤️‍🔥

Unspoken desire❤️‍🔥

Dr. Wendell Bray:

Witchy Squintern HCs💕

Dr. Camille Saroyan:

who broke the coffee pot?💖

The Squinterns:

Adventures in babysitting💕

Being Hodgins sister and being a goth Squintern💕

Dr. Zack Addy:

I've got your back💕

Who's got him smiling like that?💕

❤️‍🩹Grey's Anatomy🩺

Dr. Derek Shephard:

Halloween special💖🫀

Injured💔

The Ballad of Jayne💔

Stuck in the middle💔💕

Stitches💕

This is Why I Don't Go To The Gym💕

Baby on the brain💕

Dating Derek after he broke up with Meredith💕

Love at first sight💕

Dr. Mark Sloan:

November Rain💔

Faithfully💔💕

We are family💕

Christmas Special💖

Dr. Owen Hunt:

Trauma 101💖

Dr. Jackson Avery:

Love Story💔💕

Dr. Alex Karev:

Heaven💔

Dr. Miranda Bailey:

Your my favorite💕

Dr. Nick Marsh:

Secrets out💕

🗡️Once upon a time🍎

August W. Booth:

Hidden secrets❤️‍🔥💕💔

Killian Jones:

Smut fic with Killan Jones❤️‍🔥

Prince James:

Hysteria💔💕

🩸Twilight🌲

Cullen family:

Fire safty💖

Going to the zoo💖

Cats in the cradle💕

Being Carlisle and Esme's daughter and having the Volturi wrap around your finger. 💖💕

Cullens:

Emmett McCarthy Cullen:

Next to me series💖💔💕❤️‍🔥

Forever now💕

Being Emmett and Rose's daughter HCs💕

Carlisle Cullen:

Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter HC💕

Carlisle as your husband HCs💕

Jasper Whitlock Hale:

Jasper dating Bella's sister HCs💕

Edward Anthony Mason Cullen:

Dating Edward Cullen HCs💕

Crushing on Edward Cullen HCs💕

Rosalie Lillian Hale:

Being Emmett and Rose's daughter HCs💕

Denalis:

Eleazar Denali:

Glory of love series ❤️‍🔥💕💔💖

Dating Eleazar HCs❤️‍🔥💕

Garrett:

Voice of an Angel💔💕

Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter and dating Garrett HCs💕

Wolf pack:

Seth Clearwater:

Perfect 💕

Volturi:

The Volturi:

Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter and having the Volturi wrap around your finger💕

🧫Ghostbusters👻

Peter Venkman:

When unspoken rules are broken💔💕

Dr. Egon Spengler:

Hold on, I love you💔

Two Nerds falling in love headcanons💕

Ray stantz:

Dr. Jelousey❤️‍🔥

Something strange💕💔

🦁🐍Harry Potter🐦‍⬛🦡

Draco Malfoy:

Say Something💔

Dance the night away💕

Just keeping an eye out💕

The truth doesn't always hurt💔💕

George Weasley:

Welocm to Gryffindor💔💕

You belong with me - part 1💔💕

Fred Weasley:

Being a Potter twin and falling for Fred💕

Neville Longbottom:

Your Breaking My Heart💔

Weasley family:

Being adopted by the Weasleys💕

⚔️Supernatural🌘

Gabriel "the Trickster":

Hyper girl💕

The Winchester and the Trickster💕

Love of a lifetime💔

Dean winchester:

Dating Dean Winchester Headcanons💕❤️‍🔥

Castiel:

Being in a love triangle with Dean and Cas💕💔

🎶Elvis Presley🎸

Austin!Elvis Presley:

Love me tender💔💕

💥Marvel🦸

Scott "Cyclops" Summers:

Dating Scott Summers💕❤️‍🔥

A not so White Wedding💕

Clint "Hawkeye" Barton:

Secrets out💖

Whatever it takes💔💕

Tony "Iron man" Stark:

All of me💔💕

Bucky "winter soldier" Barnes:

Treat you better💔💕

Howard Stark:

Time In A Bottle💕

Dr. Stephen Strange:

I won't say I'm in love💔💕

Avengers:

Ohana means family💕

Six avengers and a baby💔💕

[elvylab]

Valentine's Day Men's Skincare Gifts by Elvy Lab

Surprise him this Valentine’s Day with Elvy Lab’s Valentine's Day men's skincare gifts. From hydrating moisturizers to revitalizing cleansers, our premium skincare products are perfect for pampering and caring for his skin. Show your love with thoughtful grooming essentials designed for men. Make this Valentine’s truly special with gifts he’ll appreciate. Contact us at +1 2482246444 to shop now!

[kaydens-agere]

Masterlist

Started: 10/12/23 Updated: 17/1/25 Total Works: 8

Lab Rats -Chase Davenport Age Regressor Headcanons+Moodboard

-Chase Davenport x Reader with Diapers

The Truman Show -Truman Burbank Age Regressor Headcanons+Moodboard

Marvel -Wade W. Wilson/Deadpool Agere Headcanons and Moodboard Pt 1

-"Peter's Grocery Store" Drabble (Regressing Peter Parker/Spider-Man and Caregiver Wade Wilson/Deadpool)

-"Left Behind" Drabble (Caregiver Logan and Regressing Fem Reader)

-Caregiver Logan Howlett/Wolverine and Regressing Wade Wilson/Deadpool Headcanons

Fireman Sam -"Lost In Your Scent"- Regressing Elvira/Elvil Cridlington and Caregiver Sam Peyton Jones

[a-dux]

What I either know or guess about Trigun because it keeps appearing on my dash:

- The guy named Vash is the one who looks like edgy Elvis. I will continue to refer to him has Vash in this post. He's probably the main character. He looks like he'd go to Denny's, ask if there's still a smoking section, and then glance over the menu before handing to the waiter and politely order a filet mingon even though it isn't on the menu and he knows that. He's an assassin tasked to kill That Other Guy.

- That Other Guy is a fellow in a coat that looks like if one of those old-timey lab coats folks like to draw Victor Frankenstein in was dyed red. This makes me think he is a nerd, but I think I might be wrong since I think spikey hair and those sunglasses meant you were cool in the 90s or something (which is when the manga was written and then adapted into an anime), at least for character design. This is probably the mental connection with Frankenstein but maybe he played a roll in the creation of his horrifically unwieldy gun, or even made the whole thing. He's also really old, but secretly.

- There is at least one woman.

- I think the overarching plot is that Red Coat is some impressive, upstanding guy, maybe a war hero or something, and he has a big gun. Or he's a criminal with a big gun. Anyways, Vash is hired to kill him but then they become friends. However the path to that is rocky what with the murder assignment, so they do shoot each other a bit before reaching friendship.

- There has to be at least one other important person. It's called Trigun. I've only counted two guns. Maybe they have a friend who is less keen on killing.

[longliverockback]

Dire Straits On Every Street 2024 Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab ——————————————————————— Tracks: 01. Calling Elvis 02. On Every Street 03. When It Comes to You 04. Fade to Black 05. The Bug 06. You and Your Friend 07. Heavy Fuel 08. Iron Hand 09. Ticket to Heaven 10. My Parties 11. Planet of New Orleans 12. How Long ———————————————————————

Alan Clark

John Illsley

Guy Fletcher

Mark Knopfler

* Long Live Rock Archive

[justt-em]

Hii everyone! Im going over js some basics w my account :)

ABOUT ME:

I am a 19 yr old girl from the South. I like Elvis Presley, Interview with the Vampire (book), Mötley Crüe, Older guys 🤭, and the Joker.

I am new to posting on tumblr so please be patient w me so i can figure this out.

I am on track to become a psychiatrist and love studying the brain.

I love bears and moose because they are js big babys.

I am a huge sub and have a big dd/lg kink.

I have two huge dogs named Cash(silver lab) and Waylon(black lab) that i love very much.

My discord is justt.em.

Feel free to dm me. I absolutely love making friends on here and i love talking to people. I would love to get to know u and learn some new interests. Also dont worry abt being "too old" to dm me. My limit is 67+.

I do realize my face is not showing in my pfp but u can dm and ask for a pic of me and i will send one:)

THINGS I WILL NOT DO:

I will not send nsfw pics to people i dont trust or people i have js met and js started talking to.

I will not be anyones sugar baby.

I will not talk to anyone under 18. MDNI.

I will not give my number out to anyone.

Also js a heads up im not good w degradation. I dont like being made fun of or anyone being mean to me and i will probably cry if u are.

Feel free to dm me abt anything. I am capable of a normal conversation but im also capable of flirting. Please js be respectful unless were flirting then u can do whatever lol. I will not hesitate to say no or let u know im not comfortable.

I love u all! 💋

Send me asks and dms!

My hashtag to find all my posts: #em

[democracyunderground]

LOS ANGELES (AP) — Teri Garr, the quirky comedy actor who rose from background dancer in Elvis Presley movies to co-star of such favorites as "Young Frankenstein" and "Tootsie," has died. She was 79.

Garr died Tuesday of multiple sclerosis “surrounded by family and friends,” said publicist Heidi Schaeffer. Garr battled other health problems in recent years and underwent an operation in January 2007 to repair an aneurysm.

Admirers took to social media in her honor, with writer-director Paul Feig calling her “truly one of my comedy heroes. I couldn’t have loved her more” and screenwriter Cinco Paul saying: “Never the star, but always shining. She made everything she was in better.”

The actor, who was sometimes credited as Terri, Terry or Terry Ann during her long career, seemed destined for show business from her childhood.

Her father was Eddie Garr, a well-known vaudeville comedian; her mother was Phyllis Lind, one of the original high-kicking Rockettes at New York's Radio City Music Hall. Their daughter began dance lessons at 6 and by 14 was dancing with the San Francisco and Los Angeles ballet companies.

She was 16 when she joined the road company of "West Side Story" in Los Angeles, and as early as 1963 she began appearing in bit parts in films.

She recalled in a 1988 interview how she won the "West Side Story" role. After being dropped from her first audition, she returned a day later in different clothes and was accepted.

From there, Garr found steady work dancing in movies, and she appeared in the chorus of nine Presley films, including "Viva Las Vegas," "Roustabout" and "Clambake."

She also appeared on numerous television shows, including “Star Trek,” “Dr. Kildare” and “Batman,” and was a featured dancer on the rock ‘n’ roll music show “Shindig,” the rock concert performance T.A.M.I. and a cast member of “The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour.”

Her big film break came as Gene Hackman’s girlfriend in 1974’s Francis Ford Coppola thriller “The Conversation.” That led to an interview with Mel Brooks, who said he would hire her for the role of Gene Wilder’s German lab assistant in 1974’s “Young Frankenstein” — if she could speak with a German accent.

“Cher had this German woman, Renata, making wigs, so I got the accent from her,” Garr once recalled.

The film established her as a talented comedy performer, with New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael proclaiming her “the funniest neurotic dizzy dame on the screen.”

Her big smile and off-center appeal helped land her roles in “Oh God!” opposite George Burns and John Denver, “Mr. Mom” (as Michael Keaton’s wife) and “Tootsie” in which she played the girlfriend who loses Dustin Hoffman to Jessica Lange and learns that he has dressed up as a woman to revive his career. (She also lost the supporting actress Oscar at that year’s Academy Awards to Lange.)

Although best known for comedy, Garr showed in such films as “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” “The Black Stallion” and “The Escape Artist” that she could handle drama equally well.

“I would like to play ‘Norma Rae’ and ‘Sophie’s Choice,’ but I never got the chance,” she once said, adding she had become typecast as a comic actor.

She had a flair for spontaneous humor, often playing David Letterman’s foil during guest appearances on NBC’s “Late Night With David Letterman” early in its run.

Her appearances became so frequent, and the pair’s good-natured bickering so convincing, that for a time rumors cropped up that they were romantically involved. Years later, Letterman credited those early appearances with helping make the show a hit.

It was also during those years that Garr began to feel “a little beeping or ticking” in her right leg. It began in 1983 and eventually spread to her right arm as well, but she felt she could live with it. By 1999 the symptoms had become so severe that she consulted a doctor. The diagnosis: multiple sclerosis.

For three years Garr didn’t reveal her illness.

“I was afraid that I wouldn’t get work,” she explained in a 2003 interview. “People hear MS and think, ‘Oh, my God, the person has two days to live.’”

After going public, she became a spokesperson for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, making humorous speeches to gatherings in the U.S. and Canada.

“You have to find your center and roll with the punches because that’s a hard thing to do: to have people pity you,” she commented in 2005. “Just trying to explain to people that I’m OK is tiresome.”

She also continued to act, appearing on “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit,” “Greetings From Tucson,” “Life With Bonnie” and other TV shows. She also had a brief recurring role on “Friends” in the 1990s as Lisa Kudrow’s mother. After several failed romances, Garr married contractor John O’Neil in 1993. They adopted a daughter, Molly, before divorcing in 1996.

In her 2005 autobiography, “Speedbumps: Flooring It Through Hollywood,” Garr explained her decision not to discuss her age.

“My mother taught me that showbiz people never tell their real ages. She never revealed hers or my father’s,” she wrote.

She said she was born in Los Angeles, although most reference books list Lakewood, Ohio. As her father’s career waned, the family, including Teri’s two older brothers, lived with relatives in the Midwest and East.

The Garrs eventually moved back to California, settling in the San Fernando Valley, where Teri graduated from North Hollywood High School and studied speech and drama for two years at California State University, Northridge.

Garr recalled in 1988 what her father had told his children about pursuing a career in Hollywood.

“Don’t be in this business,” he told them. “It’s the lowest. It’s humiliating to people.”

Garr is survived by her daughter, Molly O’Neil, and a grandson, Tyryn.

(She was great in Martin Scorsese "After Hours" too.)