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cateyes315 · 4 years ago

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😂🤣😂 *wheezing laughter* MUST........... SHARE........ THESE @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 @marvelgirlonamarvelworld @arch-venus25 @melodylnoelle @just-the-hiddles @fanfictrashdump and all my lovely followers I know this isn't Marvel, Tom or Loki related but they sure made me laugh

How Do Court Reporters Keep Straight Faces? These are from a book called Disorder in the Courts and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and published by court reporters that had the torment of staying calm while the exchanges were taking place. ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning? WITNESS: He said, ‘Where am I, Cathy?’ ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you? WITNESS: My name is Susan! _______________________________ ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact? WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks. ____________________________________________ ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active? WITNESS: No, I just lie there. ____________________________________________ ATTORNEY: What is your date of birth? WITNESS: July 18th. ATTORNEY: What year? WITNESS: Every year. _____________________________________ ATTORNEY: How old is your son, the one living with you? WITNESS: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can’t remember which. ATTORNEY: How long has he lived with you? WITNESS: Forty-five years. _________________________________ ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all? WITNESS: Yes. ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory? WITNESS: I forget.. ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot? ___________________________________________ ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn’t know about it until the next morning? WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam? ____________________________________ ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the 20-year-old, how old is he? WITNESS: He’s 20, much like your IQ. ___________________________________________ ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken? WITNESS: Are you shitting me? _________________________________________ ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th? WITNESS: Yes. ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time? WITNESS: Getting laid ____________________________________________ ATTORNEY: She had three children , right? WITNESS: Yes. ATTORNEY: How many were boys? WITNESS: None. ATTORNEY: Were there any girls? WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney? ____________________________________________ ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated? WITNESS: By death.. ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated? WITNESS: Take a guess. ___________________________________________ ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual? WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female? WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town I’m going with male. _____________________________________ ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney? WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work. ______________________________________ ATTORNEY: Doctor , how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people? WITNESS: All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight. _________________________________________ ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to? WITNESS: Oral… _________________________________________ ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body? WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 PM ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time? WITNESS: If not, he was by the time I finished. ____________________________________________ ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample? WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question? ______________________________________ And last: ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse? WITNESS: No. ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure? WITNESS: No. ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing? WITNESS: No.. ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy? WITNESS: No. ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor? WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar. ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless? WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

#court #stupid people #laywer #jokes #couldn't stop laughing #lmaooo 😂😂😂

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imagine-loki · 2 years ago

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Atlas: Enneagram Challenge

TITLE: Atlas: Enneagram Challenge

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 5/10

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s life told through the spectrum of enneagram personalities he has had to adopt to survive for each situation. Sleeping At Last’s Enneagram series serves as reference.

RATING: T-M, as we go along

NOTES/WARNINGS: Inspired by the Atlas: Enneagram series by Sleeping At Last, this series will be little vignettes of Loki’s life and the ways he camouflaged his personality to fit what he thought was needed. Language (I think), self-hatred, mentions of injury, surly giant blue boi, and lots of fluff.

SUMMARY: When a counter-curse has unintended effects, Loki has to learn how to come to terms with his true self.

FIVE: THE INVESTIGATOR - intense, cerebral; perceptive, secretive, innovative, and isolated. Soundtrack inspiration—->FIVE

~*~

It had started innocently enough.

After a mission gone awry, Loki had found himself cursed, of all things. He was not in bad shape but there was a distinct aching burn that radiated from his center every time he inhaled. His lungs felt like little sparking embers threatening to catch fire. His discomfort had been obvious enough that it prompted Strange to intervene rather than watch the Asgardian argue that the matter was no big deal.

Strange’s logic was sound–he was going to remove any magic with malicious intent off of Loki and draw the curse into an innocuous vessel to imprison it for eternity. This, in itself, did not set off any alarms for Loki inside his head, though, to be honest, he was desperate for the burn to be gone. It did not occur to him to think that malicious intent might not have been reserved solely for hexes, curses, and general illness, but could include a normal magic done for the wrong reasons.

Say, a glamour?

The moment Stephen finished his spell, the pain in Loki’s lungs abated and he sucked in a grateful breath with his eyes closed. He had never realized how much he liked breathing until then. When his eyelids fluttered open, smile on his face and thanks ready on his tongue, he was shocked to find… well, shock.

Time slowed down, painfully slowed, after that. The moment that followed seemed to last forever.

Stark dropped an Erlenmeyer flask filled with dubiously-colored liquid, smashing on the floor with a crash.

Aurum, who had insisted on the whole affair in the first place, remained passive, or it would have seemed that way, if not for the raising of a solitary eyebrow.

Strange froze, his eyes darting in empty space, as if reviewing the spell in his head. It took him a moment to realize he had not done this. Realization hit him, followed by an emotion that Loki could not quite place that was almost pity but not as condescending. “Oh.”

“W-why is everyone…?”

Loki glanced down and regretted it instantly.

His pale hands had turned a dusky blue and textured lines rose as if to mock him. Evidently, this was the first time they had encountered a Loki that turned this particular shade of azure. He knew that. He knew that the Loki of this universe, the one who had perished violently some time ago, was adopted from Vanaheim.

Like a (nightmarish) deer caught in headlights, Loki froze. Breathing hurt again, but not because he was cursed but for the debilitating squeezes of his heart.

“Lo–“

Before Strange could finish the last syllable, the Jotunn had stepped backward until he was far enough to safely (or so he thought he needed) turn tail and flee.

“Loki!”

He could hear them all calling after him, now, but he would not stop until he was in his quarters, locked safe and sound. He would not feel comfortable until the monster was gone, once more.

There was only one problem…

He couldn’t get the glamour to stick.

For as much as he mocked his universe’s and this one’s Stephen Strange (though, playfully, in this one) for being what he considered a party clown, he was fastidiously thorough. The effects of his counter-curse were so all-encompassing that nothing was working. It made him continue to desperately try to pile on spell after spell in an effort to not look like this–to look normal.

Turns out self-hatred was considered ill intent. He would laugh at the wretchedness of his situation if he was able to assuage the fear in his heart.

Glaring at himself in the mirror, admittedly, was not helping. However, if he wanted to counteract this mess, he needed to catalogue himself, and break down the process in steps. If the universe wanted him to learn about himself, he damn well would. He pulled every book and reference from his personal library, sat himself across the full length mirror and made himself a master of the Jotunn. Maybe if it were many small changes the counter-curse wouldn’t care.

His eyes were… horrifying, he decided. They were an angry shade of red that clashed with his skin but allowed him to see in the dark with incredible accuracy. He could counteract the color with a green coloring spell, or teal, more accurately, to restitute his blue irises. The right shade of orange might work on his skin, but he was more worried as to what to do with the very specific raised lines that identified him as a royal of the Frost Giant race.

Not to mention the horns.

Or the fangs.

Norns, even the plum hue of his gums were making him irritable.

Well, in actuality, he chose to become irritable because the alternative was succumbing to the dread in his heart and crying away the rest of his life force while curled on the floor.

No, irritability was better. Safer. So was the ardent note-taking.

“So…”

Loki flinched at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t even heard her come into his apartment. Then again, she was a spy and her livelihood was made in not alerting others to where she was.

“Does this mean that the toadstool houses are actually enormous or…?”

Loki was unsure what he hated more–the lack of disgust on Aurum’s part or the fact that he understood the reference because it was made in every universe. “I am not a damn smurf.” The words were directed at her, despite not wanting to glance in her direction, opting, instead, for glaring at the surface of the table.

“Are you sure? Because, of all the things I have seen in my life, you are the most similar to a smurf.” She dropped gracelessly in the seat beside him, propping her head on her elbow to watch him resume taking notes. If she minded the way he subtly slid his chair away from her form, she did not show it. For a full minute, Aurum watched him as he awkwardly itched at the patterns on his left arm with his right before her hand covered his.

“Careful!” He sounded like a child upset that another had messed with his carefully arranged house of cards. “You could… you could get burned if I’m not paying attention.”

“High heat?”

“Ultra low heat. Frostbite.” He had yet to look at her, but could feel that calculating look she often had on her face when it came to him. The one that informed him she was translating Lokispeak into actual emotions to understand him better. He heard her hum thoughtfully, her fingers tracing over delicate dimples on the back of his hand.

“Are those scars or natural texture?”

“I think they’re natural.”

“Think?”

He could feel her eyes prodding lovingly at him and it warmed at him more than the temperature spells he had attempted.

“We don’t have a good knowledge of Jotunn physiology and the books in Asgard are horrendously skewed to represent them as monsters. But I was adopted very young. I could have been born this way or it could be a ritual–who knows?” He was momentarily distracted by her other hand brushing at his lips to take a look at his purpled gums and gently prod at his overly sharp canines with her thumb. “You’re going to hurt yourself, Aur.” His tone was exasperated but there was an underlying sentiment of fondness or relief or both.

She was curious about him, even going as far as tilting his head toward her by grabbing his chin. Her golden gaze met his with a spark of amazement.

“But your lashes,” she said in way of defense, fully aware it made no sense. “Loki, your lashes are purple. I’ll risk being a little chilly for that.”

He relented, if only a little, pulling her open palm to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the center whose temperature made her spine tingle. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She smiled, pulling closer until she could rest her forehead to his, giggling quietly at the brush of his horns. “I know you are.” Her hands cupped his jaw, making lazy circles on his cheekbones. “You are the most fascinating creature I’ve ever met.”

“Says the woman whose veins are literally flowing with gold,” he retorted, his voice warm and indulgent.

He wanted to be cross and continue to be the irritable bundle of hatred he was a few minutes prior. He wanted to be self-hating and cruel and bully himself into fitting back into his Asgardian mask. It was hard to want all those things while also wanting to share this part of him with Aurum and her enthusiasm. The fondness when he lightly pressed his lips to hers and she laughed delightedly at the cold was all-consuming. For so long, his mind had been filled with propaganda that he couldn’t see the finer details of his natural features for what they were. Loki could identify every line, dot and hash on his skin, but he couldn’t put into words how it made him shiver when she traced the coronet detailing on his forehead, hidden by his shaggy curls and bracketed by horns. Neither did he know those same horns were velvety and one was slightly crooked, making them look like he had put on his helm askew.

But she did.

She remarked it in quiet, honeyed tones. With fondness and care. She also told him how his hair was the same shade of inky violet as his lashes, and only showed its true color when it caught the light.

After a while, his tender heart could not take more of her lovely praise for tiny details and he kissed her silly. He smiled in earnest as she played with the ends of his hair.

“Stephen feels terrible, by the way. He didn’t think the glamour would give way.”

“It wasn’t his–wait, he knew I had a glamour?”

Aurum nodded, kissing him just under the jaw where his heart beat ever slower than when he was in his other form. “According to him, every version of you is adopted in one way or another. It is reasonable to think that species that don’t necessarily look like us might have been included in the mix.” She winced, then, the words feeling heavy on her before she even said them. “He didn’t think the glamour would be cast with bad intentions, though. That’s why he feels bad. It felt like he was overstepping his bounds.”

“And Stark?”

A bark of laughter left her. “Tony shorted out because he thought you looked hot and he couldn’t comprehend why his mind betrayed him.”

“He’s not wrong, though.” She hesitated a moment, something very much unlike her. “Would you mind if I helped with your notes? I think it’s important that we have better resources than whatever the fuck these are.”

He nodded, somehow now enthused by the prospect of learning about himself. When he attempted the glamour, later, it took on the first try.

~*~

It had started innocently enough.

Say, a glamour?

Time slowed down, painfully slowed, after that. The moment that followed seemed to last forever.

Stark dropped an Erlenmeyer flask filled with dubiously-colored liquid, smashing on the floor with a crash.

Aurum, who had insisted on the whole affair in the first place, remained passive, or it would have seemed that way, if not for the raising of a solitary eyebrow.

“W-why is everyone…?”

Loki glanced down and regretted it instantly.

Like a (nightmarish) deer caught in headlights, Loki froze. Breathing hurt again, but not because he was cursed but for the debilitating squeezes of his heart.

“Lo–“

Before Strange could finish the last syllable, the Jotunn had stepped backward until he was far enough to safely (or so he thought he needed) turn tail and flee.

“Loki!”

He could hear them all calling after him, now, but he would not stop until he was in his quarters, locked safe and sound. He would not feel comfortable until the monster was gone, once more.

There was only one problem…

He couldn’t get the glamour to stick.

Turns out self-hatred was considered ill intent. He would laugh at the wretchedness of his situation if he was able to assuage the fear in his heart.

Not to mention the horns.

Or the fangs.

Norns, even the plum hue of his gums were making him irritable.

Well, in actuality, he chose to become irritable because the alternative was succumbing to the dread in his heart and crying away the rest of his life force while curled on the floor.

No, irritability was better. Safer. So was the ardent note-taking.

“So…”

Loki flinched at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t even heard her come into his apartment. Then again, she was a spy and her livelihood was made in not alerting others to where she was.

“Does this mean that the toadstool houses are actually enormous or…?”

“Careful!” He sounded like a child upset that another had messed with his carefully arranged house of cards. “You could… you could get burned if I’m not paying attention.”

“High heat?”

“Are those scars or natural texture?”

“I think they’re natural.”

“Think?”

He could feel her eyes prodding lovingly at him and it warmed at him more than the temperature spells he had attempted.

She was curious about him, even going as far as tilting his head toward her by grabbing his chin. Her golden gaze met his with a spark of amazement.

“But your lashes,” she said in way of defense, fully aware it made no sense. “Loki, your lashes are purple. I’ll risk being a little chilly for that.”

He relented, if only a little, pulling her open palm to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the center whose temperature made her spine tingle. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“Says the woman whose veins are literally flowing with gold,” he retorted, his voice warm and indulgent.

But she did.

After a while, his tender heart could not take more of her lovely praise for tiny details and he kissed her silly. He smiled in earnest as she played with the ends of his hair.

“Stephen feels terrible, by the way. He didn’t think the glamour would give way.”

“It wasn’t his–wait, he knew I had a glamour?”

“And Stark?”

A bark of laughter left her. “Tony shorted out because he thought you looked hot and he couldn’t comprehend why his mind betrayed him.”

He nodded, somehow now enthused by the prospect of learning about himself. When he attempted the glamour, later, it took on the first try.

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Submitted fic #Atlas: Enneagram Challenge #chapter 5 #fanfictrashdump

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fanfictrashdump · 3 years ago

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you most pretty and smart and make brain go 🤤

Oh fuck, you actually did it 🙈🙈

I'd like to take you to the movies, but they don't let you bring your own snacks. 😉

#you're so pretty and i love you #fanfictrashdump answers #y'all don't understand how much i like this human tho

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ao3feed-lokiangst · 2 years ago

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Atlas: Enneagram Challenge

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/IFSVirJ

by fanfictrashdump

Do I have time to do a series? No. Am I going to? Yes. Writing makes the voice in my head shut up for a while. Inspired by the Atlas: Enneagram series by Sleeping At Last, this series will be little vignettes of Loki’s life and the ways he camouflaged his personality to fit what he thought was needed. Chapters will not necessarily be in sequential or chronological order.

Words: 843, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Loki (TV 2021), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Odin (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja (Marvel)

Additional Tags: sleeping at last, Enneagram, personality, how about a fic about masking to absolute shit for all my fellow neurodivergents, we’re fine

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/IFSVirJ

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #angst

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ao3feed-frigga · 2 years ago

Text

Atlas: Enneagram Challenge

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/IFSVirJ

by fanfictrashdump

Words: 843, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Loki (TV 2021), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Odin (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja (Marvel)

Additional Tags: sleeping at last, Enneagram, personality, how about a fic about masking to absolute shit for all my fellow neurodivergents, we’re fine

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/IFSVirJ

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #frigga

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imagine-loki · 2 years ago

Text

Atlas: Enneagram Challenge

TITLE: Atlas: Enneagram Challenge

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 2/10

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki's life told through the spectrum of enneagram personalities he has had to adopt to survive for each situation. Sleeping At Last's Enneagram series serves as reference.

RATING: T-M, as we go along

NOTES/WARNINGS: Inspired by the Atlas: Enneagram series by Sleeping At Last, this series will be little vignettes of Loki's life and the ways he camouflaged his personality to fit what he thought was needed. Descriptions of battle and mentions of broken bones ahead.

SUMMARY: At times Loki was led to believe that loud or obvious demonstrations of love were needed.

TWO: THE HELPER - caring and interpersonal; demonstrative, generous, people-pleasing, and possessive. Soundtrack inspiration ---> Two

Loki pretended there was absolutely nothing amiss with the fact that eyes were following him everywhere. Well, there was strictly nothing amiss about it, but he felt the littlest bit self-conscious about the fact that they were. Insistent, heavy, tender–it was hell. Pretending that there wasn't a pit growing in his stomach was hard enough on a regular basis, but when he was put on the spot… yikes.

He turned, only to freeze like a deer caught in the headlights of her burning gaze. It was a potent paralytic that made him swallow hard and want to wither like a child. And to think, she was only sitting on the couch, broken leg propped up on a cushion while she enjoyed the spectacle he had become.

The fracture was a souvenir from the most recent mission they had been sent on. After being dropped into the middle of a frozen wasteland god-knows-where on this forsaken planet, they had been promptly met with gunfire and bombs. Loki was meant to be snuck in so he could wreak havoc on the computer system in the facility, letting his magic do what it knew best–chaos. She was his escort. He never liked when she was his escort.

They had been together just a touch longer than was a casual fling and he dared to say that he actually cared for her. She, foolishly, cared for him, too.

He was nearly indestructible.

She had sprained her wrist jumping in her bed like a trampoline a month prior.

There was no reason for her to be his escort.

And yet… in the heat of battle and the enthusiasm for letting loose his more destructive tendencies, he had allowed his guard to drop. Three guns had been pointed at him by the time he had looked up, although the image was a blur, for he was tackled away from harm a second later. She had still been on top of him, on the floor, when she shot the intruders, point blank. She had barely noticed the sting of the injury until she had tried to stand. Evidently, having a super-dense, alien god crash on your leg when swiping him away from harm tends to leave a mark.

The mark was her tibia poking out of the skin of her shin.

Loki shook his head to clear his mind from cobwebs and smoothed his hands down the front of his jumper. A deep breath settled his trembling heart before he turned to the stove, collected the bowl of carefully prepared food and silverware. He ran the food to the couch, setting it on the coffee table before running back for a tall glass of water. He fussed, fluffing the pillow under her leg, re-adjusting the temperature, conjuring increasingly complicated bouquets of flowers, making sure her favorite show was running on the television–essentially, running himself in dizzying circles around the flat.

"You haven't eaten, dove. Is it not good? Do you want something else? I should have ordered pizza. I can still do that," he said, seemingly on a single gulp of air.

She reached out her hand, fingers wrapping around his wrist as he went to fluff the pillows a fifth time.

Loki was not proud of the way he started and flashed his cerulean eyes at her.

Her eyes narrowed. "What is going on with you?"

"W-what do you mean, flower?"

"This." She gestured the flat, the food, him. "What is all this? I broke a bone, I'm not dying. I've broken plenty of stuff before and you've never been this–"

"Attentive?"

"–manic," she finished, fixing him with a narrowed stare.

She was right.

Loki was not a doting boyfriend.

Actually, that's not true. He was a quietly, secretly doting boyfriend. The type that finished the chores without being asked or hinted. Or the type that went out on errands and came back with her favorite candy bar because he saw it and it made him think of her. He was not the type to frequently flaunt PDA or grand gestures. Perhaps in his youth he would yearn for the theater that was courting in Asgard, but these days, all he wanted was a quiet existence with someone he had very accidentally come to love and admire. She wanted much of the same. That was why they worked so well.

But then she got hurt and he was waiting outside her hospital room, waiting for news and…

Loki rolled his shoulders like he was uncomfortable in his skin. "Well, Barnes mentioned–"

She blinked. "Barnes?"

"Yes, Barnes mentioned that he–"

"Bucky Barnes? James Buchanan Barnes?"

Loki frowned. "Yes, James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier." He reached for her brushing soft curls away from her forehead and temples. His piercing gaze was steadily assessing her own, checking for blown pupils or vacant stares. "Did we miss a concussion, love?"

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his wrist, once more and tangled his fingers with her own. "Bucky Barnes, the man who hasn't dated in eighty years? Is that who you're going to for advice, now?"

"Well, I haven't had a date in eighty years, either," he started grumbling.

"Yes, but that is not the majority of your life span, buddy." She sighed. "Why are you taking advice from Barnes?"

There was a one-shouldered shrug in response. "He sounded convincing," he retorted, sincerity tinging his tone. He lowered himself onto the seat beside her. "He said that, if it were him and his girl got hurt saving his life he would… you know, be extra loving."

The smile on her face bloomed without asking for permission. She cupped his face with both her hands and kissed him gently, relishing in the small sigh of relief he gave in return. "You are extra loving. Food, a movie, cuddling on the couch; that's all I needed. Not whatever demented Stepford wife routine you started here." She leaned into the soft kisses pressed onto her crown. "The food smells really good, though, baby."

"It was my mother's recipe." He peppered the side of her face with kisses until she laughed. With thoughtful tenderness, he tucked her into his side to bask in her warmth and good energy–the very things that had made him fall for her in the first place. "Shall we watch one of your murder shows, then?"

She instantly perked from the slightly drowsy state he was lulling her into. "Yes, let's!"

#Loki #Lover #Others #Submitted fic #Atlas: Enneagram Challenge #fanfictrashdump #chapter 2

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