#humorous Tumblr posts

  • hlizr50
    29.05.2022 - 14 minutes ago

    Fishing, Feelings, and Finding Yourself

    Is there anything better than Lucien catching a fish with his bare hands?

    Perhaps... Lucien teaching Elain to catch a fish with her bare hands?

    Lucien has been living rent-free in my brain for the last week thanks to the insane amount of INCREDIBLE fanart, and I hope I did his sassy ass justice.

    Read on AO3

    “Is that my tunic?” Lucien’s laughter was rich and thick, his amusement joining the spring breeze in the air, as he gazed at his mate, now dwarfed in the billowing linen of his shirt. Her cheeks were a delicious peony pink below those soulful brown eyes, even as she scowled at him.

    That was delicious, too.

    “Come now, little vixen, don’t pout,” he crooned, stepping over to her as she held her arms out wide and glared down at the tent of white fabric.

    “I am not pouting,” Elain grumbled as he gripped her shoulders and turned her around. Grabbing the hem he gathered the loose fabric, twisted it, knotted it, and tucked it up underneath the rest of the garment. It still billowed over her torso, but at least it was contained.

    “Of course not,” he mused. Then he set his sights upon the tangled waves of thick, honey brown hair, combing his fingers through its luxurious length. “And how do you expect to adventure with your hair so unbound? You are truly a mess, my lady.” 

    “Perhaps I would be more prepared to adventure if I had been informed that we would be doing so.” Lucien grinned as she snapped, knowing that she likely wanted to jerk her head and throw the frustrated words over her shoulder at him, and that his firm hold in her tresses prevented her from doing so. His deft fingers quickly wove the thick waves into a long plait, then yanked gently to pull her head back so he could meet her gaze from behind. Her eyes were shining with defiance as she frowned up at him. “And I would have packed more shirts. We’re lucky I even had these breeches.”

    The Autumn fae leaned over her, kissing the tip of her nose. “You are lucky you had those breeches. I am quite disappointed that you wound up with more options than just my tunics.” His fingers traced over her shoulders and cupped her chin, holding her head in place as he shot her a rakish grin. “Why do you think I didn’t tell you where we were going?” With a great gasp Elain swung around and slapped his stomach.

    “You lecherous brute!” And with a harumph she crossed her arms in front of her chest, fixing him with an accusing glare.

    “A brute, am I?” he asked, stepping closer. The little doe stepped back in answer.

    “Indeed, you are,” Elain replied. The red-haired male didn’t give her a warning, nor a chance to object, before sweeping her up and tossing her over his shoulder. She screeched, kicking half-heartedly. Her words, however, were far less complacent. “Lucien! I am not a sack of potatoes! You put me down this instant!”

    “But I am a brute, little vixen. You said so yourself.” It was all he could do not to burst into laughter as he carried his mate into the woods. “Is this not the behavior one would expect? How else is a brute to wrangle his female?”

    “His female?!” She kicked her feet again. “I do not belong to you nor anyone else!”

    Lucien shrugged, making sure to exaggerate his movement so his mate would feel the flex of the muscles in his shoulders and back. “I beg to differ, my lady. After all, I do have you in quite the predicament. Though I feel I would also thoroughly enjoy your trying to escape it.”

    “Put. Me. Down!”

    His gait faltered only slightly when she landed a great, open-handed slap to ass, only to squeak and tuck her hands between their bodies. Lucien’s chuckle rumbled nearly all the way to his cock as he reveled in her moment of spontaneity. Those free moments - where she moved or spoke before allowing herself to ponder the appropriateness of the act - he lived for them. He could live in those moments for eternity, and constantly endeavored to pull them from her again and again.

    But he would never do so without teasing her mercilessly.

    “Elain,” he crooned, feigning incredulity. “And you act so innocent and demure! I should have known you had a naughty streak.” A large palm settled over the swell of her rear, giving a firm pat. “I cannot wait to explore that.”

    And wasn’t that the godsdamned truth.

    Though their intimacy had grown leaps and bounds in the last few months, he knew that somewhere under the manners, blushes, and pretty dresses was an untamed fire. A fire to match his own. And he was determined to fan it into a raging inferno. 

    Once the stream came into view he deposited his lovely vixen upon a boulder, taking a moment to appreciate the way her face was flushed with frustration and the way her lips were full and pink with desire. Lips that he met with his own, melting into the petal soft caress of her mouth. When he pulled away her eyes were luminous, though not with the contemptuous flirtation as before. Lucien gripped her chin and stared deep into her chocolate brown gaze.

    “But you should know, little vixen.” He kissed her again and nipped lightly at her bottom lip before he continued. “I am the one who will be doing the spanking.”

    Cauldron, that look on her face. The impossibly deepening blush and the way her lips parted ever so slightly. The way her eyes simmered with feistiness even as they darkened with barely-leashed desire. If he could bottle that feeling - imprint that expression upon his soul - he could live in perpetual contentment.

    Or, perhaps more likely, he would find himself in constant need of her.

    It almost pained him to step away, dragging his finger under her chin until he could no longer reach, and he took a deep breath. Which was a mistake. Lucien couldn’t help his body’s reaction as her delectable honey and jasmine scent thickened into something so much more decadent and rich. As he made his way to the bank of the stream his lips ticked up. At least she was just as affected as he.

    Her arousal would likely lessen significantly once she found out what they were doing out here, but the Autumn fae ignored the thought and set about removing his boots and rolling up his breeches. Then he drew a long cord from his pocket and worked on gathering his long auburn tresses together so he could secure them out of his face. His eyes closed briefly as he deftly wound the cord around his gathered hair, feeling the warmth of the sunlight that filtered through the green and gold foliage. Daring to wonder, for a moment, what it would feel like if it were Elain’s fingers combing through his tresses instead of his own. At the thought of her his eyes opened, moving to her as if pulled by an undeniable force. Of course, he could blame it on the bond, but that might imply that he was not completely bewitched by her. He had never seen anything so lovely, never thought he could be so enamored with someone so gentle and prim. But he had discovered that those were masks. That, though she was content with the prospect of a simpler life, beneath the surface was a cunning, clever little beast who had embedded her stubborn, feisty little claws into the very depths of his soul.

    Her expression had not shifted one bit since the crude remark he’d made. Those wide eyes had followed him to where he stood, the roses still blooming over the few freckles on her cheeks. Those delicious, perfect lips still parted in disbelief or desire. Her jaw may have dropped a bit more as she stared at him, but he could not be certain. Lucien huffed a small laugh, his small grin growing into something feral and arrogant. “Is what you see to your liking, Princess?” With his question the spell broke, and she blinked and shook her head.

    “Wh-what?”

    He shrugged his shoulders, rolling his head around to stretch everything out. “I’ve never been gawked at so languidly--”

    “I was not gawking,” Elain insisted, but he just went on.

    “Tell me, Elain, what you were imagining when you were undressing me with your eyes–”

    “How dare you imply–”

    “And please know that I am very willing to provide a reminder that the reality is even better,” Lucien offered, never releasing her from his penetrating gaze. Her lips pursed, and her face had further flushed, transforming from the sweet tinge of mild chagrin to the burning fire of frustration. And she was still the prettiest thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

    “You are the most arrogant, insufferable man - male - I have ever known,” she sputtered, crossing her arms and lifting her chin in defiance.

    Cauldron. She was truly magnificent. All riled and haughty and positively feral, all contained in that dainty little body. He returned to her boulder, rolling up his sleeves along the way, and knelt in front of her.

    “And you are the most stubborn, maddening,” he murmured softly, turning his attention to her boots. He worked at the laces, making quick work of the ties and pulling them from her dainty feet, followed swiftly by thin stockings. His roughened fingers rolled the legs of her breeches up to right below her knees before trailing back down her shapely calves. “The most exquisite female.” When he caught her eyes again he found that her blush had returned to that delicious pink glow. Tugging her hand from where it was tucked beneath a crossed arm, he pressed his lips to her knuckles before giving the same treatment to her sleeve that her pants had received. And he was pleasantly surprised when she offered her other arm to him when he had finished with the first.

    Lucien rose and tugged on that arm, pulling his mate to her feet. “Come, my lady.” Her fingers laced with his as he led her to the stream, and he felt an odd bout of nerves twisting his stomach. Was this a good decision? Would it be too much of a push?

    “What are we doing?”

    One foot fell into the stream, and he was relieved that it wasn’t too cold. With a squeeze to Elain’s hand he looked back at her and answered, “We’re fishing.” Those beautiful eyes blew wide in alarm.

    “Wh-what? Fishing?” Her voice was tight and tinged with panic. Lucien only nodded, pulling her closer to the bank of the stream. “B-but… but we don’t have any… any fishing tools! How are we to fish?”

    Lucien snickered, the smirk he wore turning into a full grin. He lifted his free hand and wiggled his fingers. “These are the only tools we need.” The honey-haired vixen balked. One would have thought he’d told her she would have to clean the fish and gut them herself.

    “Your hands?!” she squeaked, and his answering laugh was throaty and loud.

    “Our hands, lovely Elain.” He tugged on her again, gentle but insistent, and one of her feet stuttered forward. But she held her ground.

    “I… I don’t think this is a good idea,” she reasoned, her eyes fixed firmly on the bubbling water. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but he asked her why, regardless. “Because I… because… I can’t.”

    Lucien’s brows furrowed as he tilted his chin and took her in. Not the defiant, fiery female that she was only moments ago, but slumped shoulders and a bowed head, cheeks tinted with more than the innocent embarrassment from his teasing. His lips quirked into a thoughtful frown. “There’s a difference between I can’t and I don’t want to, Elain.” She tried to yank her hand from his grip, but he would not yield it to her. Sucking in a breath her head jerked up, her eyes swimming.

    “I don’t want to because I can’t.” Her voice cracked, though her stare was insistent and strong. Lucien loosed a sigh, removing the one foot from the water and turning to face her fully. Slowly, carefully, he brought his free hand to cup her nape, broad enough that his thumb stroked over her cheek.

    “Why do you think you can’t, my lady?” He kept his voice soft and soothing as his thumbs traced absently over her face and knuckles. His heart had constricted to the point of pain when he saw the uncertainty in her watery gaze. The defeat in her voice. When she did not answer he pulled her into him, his mouth brushing over her brow as lightly as a feather before leaning forward to touch it with his own. “Elain,” he pleaded, and he felt her shuddering breath more than he heard it.

    “I… Feyre always did those things. Feyre hunted and fought and kept us alive,” she whispered. Her breath was hot against the exposed vee of his chest. “I have… I have only ever had a skill for… existing. And, I suppose, being pleasing to the eye while doing so.”

    Lucien released her hand and settled his own on the small of her back, holding her body against his as he dipped his chin and kissed her fiercely. He wanted the kiss to do so many things that a kiss likely couldn’t do. To prove his devotion to her, his belief in her. To draw those self-deprecating words from her mouth forever, and to deposit self-assuredness and confidence in return. When he broke the kiss he didn’t go far, choosing to nuzzle his nose against hers as he murmured to her.

    “While you are quite pleasing to the eye, and while I am quite grateful for your existence, I do not believe that you understand your own capabilities or fortitude.” He kissed her again, chaste and light. “You needn’t be skilled with a blade or a bow to be strong, and your standing here with me, your ability to smile and laugh and go on, is proof that you are just that. And I have no doubt that someone as stubborn and determined and clever as you is more than capable of catching a fish.” Another kiss. Tender. Longer. “There is no pressure. Our lives do not depend upon it. We are not here for me to teach you a valuable survival skill or some meaningful life lesson. I have only brought you here to enjoy your company and, perhaps, help you prove to yourself just how special you are.”

    Lucien kept his focus squarely on her lovely face, even as her small hands slid up his torso and landed on his chest. How he would love to whisk her into his arms, return to the cabin, and ravish her fully. But there was still plenty of time, and now this fishing trip - which had only been intended as a nudge for her, a jab to stoke her inner inferno - felt much more important. It felt like they were on the edge of something magical. That Elain was on the brink of discovering something infinitely precious. His hands settled over hers.

    “It will be fun, little vixen. I promise,” he vowed, flashing a winning courtier grin.

    “And you won’t tease me?”

    Lucien tipped his head back and laughed. “Only a little,” he replied, giving her a peck on the nose. “Now come on in. The water is lovely.” He backed into the stream, guiding her in as he held onto her hands and snickering when she squealed at the cold.

    “Now remember, you are fae now. You are far faster and stronger than you were as a human,” he instructed, stepping back and taking his stance in the stream. “And your senses are sharper. Use your eyes. Look into the water. Feel the current around your legs and how it shifts–”

    Elain shrieked and hopped back and forth between her feet. “Something touched my leg!” The emissary groaned dramatically, running a calloused palm over his face.

    “Yes, Elain. Fish swim in the stream. That’s why we’re here,” he teased, earning a scowl and a very un-ladylike gesture. Lucien grinned. “So rude, my lady. Next time you feel a fish against your leg–” he felt a disturbance in the current against his shin and swiftly thrust his hand into the water, pulling back a wriggling silver trout “--reach down and grab it.” He reached into the stream again and plucked another fish from the water. For emphasis.

    “You must be joking. How can you do it so easily?!” His mate balked.

    “Just try, little vixen. I think you’ll surprise yourself.”

    Lucien tried to mind his own business. Tried to give his mate space to try and fail without expectant eyes. But he could not look away from the way her nose bunched and her brow knitted as she focused, staring into the twinkling stream. He knew her determination would drive her, now that her fear of judgment had been assuaged. Suddenly, she thrust her hands into the water, but they came up with nothing.

    “I felt it! I was so close!” she exclaimed before immediately scrunching her face in concentration again. There was no mournful resignation in her cry. No fear or even disappointment. The jubilation made his heart soar.

    “Keep trying, my lady. Any moment–”

    Her hands entered the water again and emerged with a trout - bigger than the first one he caught. Elain squealed in excitement, triumph lighting her features. “I did it!” she cried. “Lucien, I did it! I caught a fish! With my hands! Oh my gods, I caught a fish with my hands!”

    If he could bottle the sound of her jubilant laughter and mix it with the luminous shimmer of delight in her eyes, he would get drunk upon it every damn day. For a moment he remembered the sullen, silent girl she’d been for months in the Night Court after losing everything she thought she could want from life. Being thrust into immortality, into a war. 

    And now here she was, laughing and splashing and throwing herself into his arms after catching a fish. No expectations. No stakes. Just a simple day in the woods, the light fluttering through the trees and the air fresh upon their faces. Lucien spun her around, immersing himself in her contagious joy. Elain’s hands had wrapped around his neck, and she held herself close to them as they slowed.

    Lucien found himself falling into the depths of her expressive eyes as he tucked a loose tendril of silken honey behind her ear. “I knew you could do it,” he whispered, the warmth in his chest growing until he felt like he might burst. “I am immensely proud, my lady.” Her answering grin shone brighter than the sun, and she pulled him into a kiss with such abandon, giggling against his mouth when he grunted in surprise. When she released him her cheeks were pink - had that blush gone away since he’d noticed her wearing his tunic?

    “Thank you, Lucien. You… you knew exactly what I needed,” she murmured, still clinging to him. “I have never felt so carefree. So liberated. So free to figure out the things I want. Who I want to be. I…” She paused, taking a breath before she continued. “I am so thankful that the Cauldron chose to put us together. Truly. You have been so patient and considerate. And endlessly frustrating and inappropriate and infuriating. But… but I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

    Lucien thought he might float into the sky and burn in the sun. And he would die the happiest male the world had ever known. He wrapped his arms around her, clutching her to him and feeling the warmth of her curves. The perfect dips and swells that had him irrevocably obsessed. He pressed his lips to her brow, then her temple, before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

    “I can only hope, darling Elain, that I can make you half as happy as your words have just made me. I will toil all of my days to do so, if I must.” He looked forward to those days - a potential of centuries with the beauty that he held in his arms - and he could only smile and thank the Mother and the Cauldron. That after decades of heartache and war and death, he had been blessed. That his mate was growing and thriving as they grew closer.

    That, somehow, every step that he had taken had led him to this place and this person and this moment. And that it was pure, perfect bliss.

    #elucien#elucien fanfiction #elain x lucien #lucien vanserra#elain archeron#acotar fic#acotar #this is my petition for the return of sassy Lucien #sassy Lucien#elucien fic#ao3#ao3fic#elucien oneshot #fluff and humor #Lucien is a naughty boy #Lucien is a sass-master
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  • trash-panda-antics
    29.05.2022 - 22 minutes ago

    Moms abuse their kids till they get complete locked out of their kids lives and be like, “NOOOOOO MY BABY,WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!? 🥺😭😭”

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  • rokhal
    29.05.2022 - 40 minutes ago

    Need an MCU Moon Knight story where Steven calls their dad out of the blue and introduces himself as Marc’s alter, explains their DID vaguely as in, “Well, Marc was under a lot of stress growing up as it turns out, I really had the rosier side of things,” and repeats, “No, I’m not joking,” “No, I know this isn’t funny,” for long enough that Elias Spector decides to humor “Steven” because he’s desperate to connect with his son again even if Marc is pulling some bizarre and out-of-character improv routine on purpose to test his patience.

    And Steven happily books a flight to Chicago to spend a weekend with their dad. (Marc consents but only if Steven lets him sleep through the whole thing.)

    #moon knight mcu #story idea #show!steven grant #angst + humor is my favorite genre
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  • toestorepod
    29.05.2022 - 41 minutes ago

    It's Never Too Late For What You Want. Simple Design is Perfect for Everyone. Click here : https://linktr.ee/toestorepod

    Humor, Happy, Inspirational, Motivation, Quotes, Typography, Inspiration, Text, Trending, Life, Love, Tumblr, Saying, Cute, Funny,  Motivational,

    #humor #happy #inspirational #motivation #quotes #typography #inspiration #text #trending #life #love #tumblr #saying #cute #funny #motivational #quote

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  • summer-crack-up
    29.05.2022 - 45 minutes ago
    #funny summer #summer crack up #summer humor
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  • aci25
    29.05.2022 - 47 minutes ago
    #usa politics #funny meme haha #this is so funny #funny stuff#funny content#funny images#funny pictures#lol#jokes#humor#meme#haha #sad but true #think about it #think for a minute #guns in america #guns and ammo #fuck the gop #texas#gun violence
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  • its-the-dollar-store
    29.05.2022 - 50 minutes ago
    #humour #gen z post #generation z #gen z humor #nihilism #i mean same #probably both
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  • bigshotspambot
    29.05.2022 - 1 hour ago

    BEEN THINKING ABOUT… getting ice cream with sneo…

    You two have tried to get ice cream before, he even said “please” like you practiced- but the person running the stand just screamed and ran away (rude…)

    So instead, you volunteer to grab his order for him! You ask for your usual, and then a triple scoop with every topping they have. The ice cream person (it’s a different one- the old one quit) looks at you funny before handing it to you, wondering who it could possibly be for. You of course, know exactly who.

    Sneo’s face BEAMS as you give him his double chocolate vanilla strawberry triple scoop ice cream cone with sprinkles and chocolate syrup and marshmallows and peanuts and gummy bears and… the list goes on

    Despite its huge size, he happily holds it in his hand- where it fits perfectly. He cheerily replies:

    “TH4NKS LIGHTn_eR!! I”VE ALWAYS WANTED TO [Experience Points] THE [Smooth Taste Of] ICED_CREAM !!! ((WITHOUT BEiNG [FrozenSolid] BY A [Hochi Mama] iN-THE-PROCESS ))”

    Without hesitation he bites the strawberry scoop CLEAN OFF before you laugh and show him how to eat it correctly… and also so he wouldn’t finish it so fast- you wanna spend time with him!

    He finishes off the rest of his ice cream, commenting on how “10/10 DELICIS” it is. You eat yours as well, although he still eats his cone before you.

    By the end of it, there are traces of the dessert pretty much all over his face (he actually jabs his nose into it a few times by accident) which you help clean up with many many napkins. But he appreciates everything you do for him! (And he now expresses ice cream as his favorite food)

    #PURE FLUFF #DISGUSTINGLY CUTE . #can be platonic or romantic #💭imagine#writing #💛I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY [HeartShapedObject] #spamton neo#spamton #spamton neo x reader #spamton x reader #ICE CREAM#some humor
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  • rodimii
    29.05.2022 - 1 hour ago

    M!A - You've been turned into a sparkling! For the next week you are going to learn how to handle your world as a bitlet. Good luck, you're going to need it.

    Magic deflected. He is already childish, he is immune.

    #anonymous #but i will humor you #he would be the toddler that constantly needs to be removed from danger and goes into places hes not supposed to #and never sleeps
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  • mizworldofrandom
    29.05.2022 - 1 hour ago
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