#puck reverie

[nebulacritter]

more ok ko edits!!!!

[emilnikos]

extremely quick puck reverie doodle that I managed to crank out after work

[gayserblast]

Hi sorry I've been dead have a Puck for your troubles

[shrekshackjpeg]

bunch of newer and older okko doodles

[funnefox]

Wanna wish @someniam a happy birthday! Go follow them and draw their boy Puck Reverie in honor

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Group E Round 1

[image ID: the first image is of Puck Reverie, a character with brown skin, long brown hair worn loosely, and light yellow eyes with black, vertical pupils. he has 2 triangular ears, similar to a cat's, and a dog-like tail. he has 2 white angel wings on his back and a halo above his head. he's shirtless, and simply wears a pair of pants. the second image is the cover of The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole. it depicts a man in a European-style suit of armor approaching 2 women dressed in 18th century dresses. end ID]

Puck Reverie

[no propaganda provided]

Conrad

First gothic novel ever written. He's the weak fail son of Lord Manfred who is so sickly and weak that his father is like "we must marry him off as early as possible so he won't die first" and then on the morning of his wedding he's crushed to death by a giant stone helmet that falls from above. This is like the first two pages of the story and the story quickly moves on from him. My Gothic Horror class was so obsessed with this dude that we mentioned him every single class and also we named our cohort "Conrad" which later became "Conrad Van Helsing" (just cause we also liked the name Van Helsing). Imagine thinking "my son is so weak and sick so he better get married before he succumbs to it" and then he's crushed to death by a giant helmet. Anyone would have died from that he didn't even need to weak or sickly to die from it it's so funny this is what started the entire genre of gothic horror this is the world we live in isnt it grand dracula came from conrad being crushed to death by a helmet on the opening pages

[someniam]

I made a comic titled Things To Do At A Sleepover! Featuring Puck Reverie and Glitter Starlight! These are all filled with lovely headcanons of mine. The second to last panel was inspired by another art I saw once. Enjoy!

[oceanicartgal]

Saw this one image and I KNEW I had to do an ok ko redraw of it.

Anyways here's something I just finished from an idea I had a few months ago-

[scrawlingskribbles]

accidentally tripped & fell down a rabbithole of Thinking Too Hard/Deeply About OK KO Worldbuilding/LoreTM so I’ve been sitting here at my desk job sorting out paperwork for the past few hours probably looking like:

[one-winged-dreams]

-kicks down the door- LOOK at this fucking moodboard @faerie-circle-ships made for my gay goth old god ship!!!! 😭

Y'all have been too fucking nice enabling me over Aki, like, I am TRULY STUNNED that he's getting such a warm reception. Now I feel bad for being so tsun over him ajksghdkjl.

But thank you all for supporting my being so UNHINGED, I'm sure this is going to go on for a while so BUCKLE THE FUCK UP.

[nebulacritter]

best background character ever

[maepolzine]

The Read-Cap: December 2024

Sharing all the books I read in the last month and everything I'm planning on reading in the first half of next year.

Buckle in everyone. This Read-Cap is going to be a long one, as I’m including a list of all the books I’m planning to read in the first half of 2025 and all the books I read this month. If you are new to the Read-Cap, this is a monthly post I’m doing where I share what I’ve been reading in the last month and what I plan on reading next. If I finish a book and decide not to do a full post…

[tanhands]

everyone you wanna be

for the klaine valentine's challenge. no content notes yet.

one: my fancy patter

"Hey there, Lone Ranger." 

Kurt looks up from where he's sitting on the floor, knees up and ankles crossed, as Blaine drops down next to him with a commercially pleasant smile -- though that's not indicative of much, since that seems to be Blaine's default expression like Santana's resting bitchface or Finn's perplexed forehead pucker. "Hi," he says shortly, because he'd come to sit in one of the unmonitored halls for a reason and doesn't feel the need to be welcoming. Blaine makes a small, nonspecific sound of commiseration.

"I know something that'll cheer you up," Blaine says, and follows it immediately with, "--this morning's numbers were rough, and I think we're both in the same boat with being down in the polls, but the best thing is to forge ahead instead of letting it weigh us down." 

With an arched brow, Kurt regards the other boy for a long moment, perversely until he sees Blaine's temples start to get a touch damp, the smile start to strain.The momentary spike of mean satisfaction is just that, fleeting, and he sighs inwardly before he says, "What's so fun that it'll take my -- our -- minds off dipping in the viewer polls and potentially getting voted out of the show and sent home covered in embarrassment and failure, the butt of memes and talk shows for weeks if not months if not years?"

Blaine blinks and breathes out a whoooo, barely audible, but recalibrates fast, something Kurt notes with interest. "Finn and Puck figured out how to work the deep fat fryers in the cafeteria," Blaine says. "They're frying everything they can find. Frozen cauliflower, those little round frozen peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, potato chips--"

"They're making fresh potato chips?"

"No, they're double-frying normal potato chips." Blaine pauses, considers. "They're not bad, actually. If you get past the singed taste." 

Kurt huffs derisively, letting his wrists dangle against his knees and thunking his head back against the wall. "A glowing review. I'll pass."

"We could maybe use the pancake batter to coat some candy bars and deep fry those. Better than potato shards?" Blaine starts reaching for Kurt's wrist to coax him up, but stops when Sam and Quinn come down the hallway, hands latched together between them. "Sup," Sam says with a lift of his chin towards them, which Blaine answers while Kurt tucks his own chin a touch lower and watches them go by. Quinn doesn't even look their way, her chilly, brittle smile reserved for Sam only, her posture the envy of dressage horses and hat racks. Their blond hair seems to provide its own source of light as they continue to sail down the hallway and out of sight, a yacht passing by two bobbing sailboats.

Kurt's startled out of his reverie by Blaine moving in closer, turning towards him instead of keeping his back flush against the wall. "They don't even really give a crap about each other," Blaine says, voice dipping lower as it sinks into more secretive levels, and Kurt feels a swirl of unease in his stomach. 

"They've been inseparable since Sam found the only shower room that's still got hot water. They probably bonded over sharing a bottle of highlight-preserving shampoo."

"No," Blaine says more insistently. He has extraordinarily thick, weird eyebrows, Kurt notices for the first time, like circumflex accents over the o's of his eyes. "It's been since they got their numbers and were dipping way below Finn and Rachel. That's when they got together." 

Kurt's teeth clack together in his mouth at Blaine speaking aloud what he's started to get a gnawing feeling about lately. The purpose of what they signed up for, this live reality programme about the making of a show choir through the unusual but attention-grabbing method of a survivalist situation in an unused high school, it wasn't about dating or romance or any of that. The pitch had been for performers, people with talent and moxie and charisma and screen presence, not people who intended to get by with looking pretty and sucking face 

When Rachel and Finn had declared they were together, and they'd immediately soared in the polls, Kurt had talked himself out of it; they were both talented and Rachel's looks were entertainment good, not magazine good. But Quinn and Sam were like Dresden dolls more than any sort of real competition in the talent department, with their adequate singing and dancing that happened to come out of appallingly photogenic faces and figures. Possibly a secret hairstylist they'd secured to give them an advantage.

"This is exactly what I didn't want," Kurt says sharply, drawing his knees in tight now, feet pulled in together. "I told myself that this would be a different sort of show, one based on ability and merit and not just whatever look is hot on social media right now. But no! It's the same old thing, isn't it? The so-called prettiest people get everything without having to try." 

"Hey, now," Blaine says, tilting his head. "You and me are pretty too." He bumps the back of one hand against the crook of Kurt's knee. "You a smidge more, but I think that'll work for us." 

Kurt raises his head slowly from where his chin had sunk down against his chest. "Oh, no," he says, and scoots to the side, watching in gathering concern as Blaine correspondingly scoots closer. His smile is just as commercial as before, but now there's something else to it, something more focused and determined, and that's much worse because damned if Kurt doesn't like being the spotlight of somebody's full focused attention. 

"Blaine -- it's Blaine, right?" Of course he knows the other boy's name, but if they're going to play a game then Kurt's not going in with the weaker hand. Blaine seems unfazed and just inclines his head, smile inching towards amused. "Look, Blaine, while I enjoy romcom tropes maybe more than your average person, to the point where I watch people go about their daily lives and immediately visualize their minor mishaps happening as meet-cutes, this isn't the route I want to take to be part of the New Directions. I want to win my spot through my gift and my hard work and, yes, being pretty, but that's not the main thing people should admire about me. And sure as hell not because I hook up with the flashy prep." 

"Whoa there," Blaine says, smiling full-on now, "hook up? I'm not that easy." He laughs and it's breezy, confident, which is annoying but also takes the awkwardness out of the whole thing, so Kurt un-tenses, just a bit, as Blaine continues with a shake of his head, "It's an advantage. We've obviously got the raw material needed to make it, but this isn't an even playing field, unfortunately, or we'd know the outcome already. It's a show, it's dramatics, it's will-they-won't-they." He sings the last bit, a plummy MGM flourish: "--that's en-ter-tain-ment!" 

"Trying to win me over with show tunes is … well, all right, it's effective. But this still isn't the avenue I want to stroll." Kurt thins his eyes at Blaine, considering, and the other boy takes it as an opening to make his pitch.

"Look, Kurt -- it's just for the cameras, and I'll do all the work. It doesn't have to look as though…" Blaine reconsiders whatever he'd been about to say and reroutes, "I'll woo you as if we're lovers in some silent black-and-white film! Big gestures, romance coming out our ears, I'll be so smitten that the audience is gonna fall in love with you through me, they'll be dying to see where it all goes and if I manage to win your affections. Or at least a duet." Blaine has his hands clasped now, pressed over his heart, and he tips his head in the direction that Sam and Quinn had gone. "One a damn sight better than 'Lucky'."

"Low-hanging fruit," Kurt says, but his heartbeat has tripped into double-speed, and he licks his lips, shifting to cross-legged so he can face Blaine. "I have conditions," he says, and Blaine turns even more towards him to say, "Naturally. We should both come to an understanding so there's no misha--"

"You need to find a KitKat and get it deep-fried for me."

Blaine halts in mid-reasoning, then he hops nimbly to his feet and sweeps a flourishing bow. At the crown of his dipped head there's a wave to his hair, little promises of curls, and Kurt files that away, too, in the moment before Blaine straightens. "Whatever your heart desires," he says in a silky murmur, and then more normally, "--next time we'll do this stuff for the cameras, okay? No point wasting it where nobody can see."

"Okay," Kurt says, and if his answering smile is a touch flat, it's just because he doesn't need to care. 

[604to647]

Hat Trick (Safest with You AU)

1.7K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din takes you to a hockey game for date night. Hat Trick = when a player scores three times (goals) in a game.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), No smut but smut adjacent, established relationship, possessive!Din if you squint really hard, thigh riding/grinding in public, dirty talk, light degradation (whore, affectionate), pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, etc.), use of hockey terms.

A/N: My beloved Canucks are leading their conference (woo!) and they’re playing tonight so to wish them luck, here’s a little one shot with our Safest with You couple. There’s a little more characterization of reader in this one in that she’s a big hockey fan, hope that doesn’t stop anyone from enjoying the story! 😘 Also, the term "puck bunny" is used but is not intended in any actual derogatory or sexist way; it's completely light-hearted teasing because we, reader and Din, all know that shaming female fans is not a thing and we can happily let woman enjoy sports any way they want🏒🐰

“These are great seats, Din!” you beam, as you take off your jacket and look around; you’re seven rows up from the ice in the lower bowl, right behind the goal.  Perfect seats.

As soon as Din sees your sweatshirt, he laughs at the bright team colours and large block letters in the front that read “I just hope both teams have fun.”  My sweet girl, he thinks.

Turns out, you did not want both teams to have fun.  Turns out, you wanted the visiting team to eat ice shit.

The first time your team’s defense crushes someone against the glass with devastating precision and you roar your approval, he looks over, stunned.  While he knew you loved hockey, he hadn’t expected you to get so into a live sporting event.

And he knew you had a mouth on you, but he’s never heard it at this volume, your hands cupping around your mouth in a makeshift bullhorn to amplify your trash talk:

“PUT HIM IN JAIL!!!!” When the ref doesn’t call for the tripping of one of your players.

“Don't get too comfortable!!! Don't even sit down!!” When the opposing team opts for a two-man advantage for their power play by pulling their goalie.

“How was that fucking slashing?!  He barely touched him!! What is this, soccer????”  When your team captain is put in the penalty box.

“Get it together!! I've seen more organization at the zoo!!” When the teams fight for the puck against the boards, the other team attempting to clear.

“This isn’t cake, stop icing!!” When the other team does clear the puck.

You’re equally as vocal with your encouragement and praise:

“Shoot it!  Shoot it!  Atta boy!!”

“Let’s go defense, let’s go!! Yesssssssss!!”

“Fucking look how smooth that line change was!!”

“Get it, get it, you got it!!”

You cheer loud and earnestly for every save your goalie makes, face-off won, and glove dropping fight.  Each home goal is celebrated out of your seat, reverie extending to Din and your seat neighbours via hugs and high-fives. Your energy is infectious and Din hasn’t had this much fun at a hockey game in years.

During the second intermission, just when the two of you are musing if it’s worth the line-ups to get a bucket of popcorn to share, you hear a familiar voice say your name.

“Jessica?” you squeal in delight, throwing your arms around a petite blonde, “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I thought that was you! Derek and I have been debating it over the last two periods, and I finally said I would just come over and find out for myself,” she points up in the stands a couple of sections over and a few rows up, and you see her husband waving wildly with both arms and you wave back enthusiastically.

The two of you catch up quickly and when you introduce Din to your friend, she looks thrilled, “Do you play as well?”

Din looks confused, so you proudly answer for him, “Din’s a boxer.”

“Ohhhhhh. Sorry, you just had the look of an enforcer, but that makes sense.”  You have to keep yourself from laughing at the double meaning Jess definitely didn’t intend.

The two of you chat a little bit longer before your friend has to leave if she’s to make it back to her seat before the third period starts.  As you say goodbye and promise to see each other again soon, you look up to wave to Derek as well, and Jess says, “Oh, yeah, Russ is here with us too.” The man sitting next to Derek locks eyes with you and waves back, same as his friend.

Starting up the stairs, Jess says, “Nice to meet you!” to Din, a sentiment he returns, and to you, “Nice to see you’re branching out,” before she winks and runs away as you roll your eyes good naturedly.

When the third period gets underway, Din leans over, “What did she mean, branching out?”

You feel your cheeks get hot, and you avoid Din’s eye by keeping yours locked on the game, “Oh… well, I used to almost exclusively date hockey players…”

“Like…. a puck bunny?”

Dropping your jaw, scandalized, “No!! Not like a puck bunny!! That’s not a thing!” And as Din laughs, you feel the need to explain, “I wasn’t trying to date hockey players.  It just turned out that the people I dated also happened to play hockey.  Like, when Jess set me up with Derek’s friend, I didn’t know they played on a team together!”

“Oh, that guy over there?” Din looks up at where Jess has rejoined her husband and sees the man next to him looking over at the two of you.  You shrug and nod, turning back to the game, “So anyways, it was kind of like this joke that if I dated someone, they would coincidentally turn out to play hockey.”

Puck bunny, you mutter under your breath, and Din grins and throws his arm around you, kissing you on top of your head to placate you.

After the end of an exciting final period where your favourite right winger almost scores a hat trick, you and Din file out of the arena with the crowd, Din’s arm casually draped around your shoulders as you practically bounce out of happiness at your team’s win.

While walking to the subway, you spot Derek’s head peaking out above the crowd and he smiles big when he sees you and starts to make his way over.  Your two groups converge near the subway entrance and it’s another happy reunion. You haven’t seen Derek since you last saw Jess and you’ve always found him to be hilarious, laid back and kind; perfect for your bubbly friend.  Even seeing Russ again is nice, although there isn’t really any reason it wouldn’t be; the two of you had dated for a bit, but your long work hours and his away game schedule had prevented it from getting too serious, and the two of you had parted amicably.  If he stares at you while the five of you chat and revisit your favourite moments from the game, you don’t notice.  Derek and Jess invite you to join them at the sports bar they’re heading to, but you and Din politely decline, saying you have to get back to Al.  Only Jess and Din catch Russ’ look of disappointment before you part ways.   

While waiting on the subway platform, Din asks to know more about your friends, and you tell him everything: how you and Jess met at a baking class, Derek’s courtship and their wedding, and also about your and Russ’ brief relationship.

When you get on the subway, it’s too packed for you to find seats, so you end up standing right next to a pole by the door, with Din hovering protectively, ready to catch you if you lose your footing while the subway moves. 

“You know… I know how to play hockey too,” he’s looking at you with a silly, pouty face and you can’t help but giggle.  “Not ice hockey, but we’d sometimes play street hockey in front of the gym when we were kids.  Stopped after Paz broke a car window and it turned out that car belonged to a Hutt and nearly started a damn street war.”

“Omigod,” you chuckle, imaging a young Din and Paz running around the street with hockey sticks. 

“So… your streak isn’t broken… puck bunny.”

“Ugh!” you playfully swat at Din’s shoulder, “I told you!! It was a coincidence!”

Din leans in, pressing your back into the pole and whispers, “Ok, not a puck bunny… but you’re still my bunny.”

You gasp a little at the possessive tone lacing his words and can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, squirming slightly and hoping no one on the subway notices.

Din notices, though, “Is my pretty bunny feeling needy in front of all these people?  You need something between those legs, baby?”

You nod, whimpering just a bit, and pull Din closer by tugging at the bottom of his jacket.  Very subtly, he steps between your legs and bends his knee slightly so the angle slopes right at your core.  When the subway makes a tight turn, all the passengers jostle and Din’s leg bumps up into you, giving you a jolt of electrifying friction.  You close your eyes and have to bite you lip to stifle a moan.  Feeling cocky, Din whispers hotly in your ear, “Let them hear you, pretty bird.  Let everyone in this subway car know how dirty you are, getting off on daddy’s thigh in public.”

The subway goes over a bumpy stretch of track and you’re knocked right into Din’s chest, pressed up against his body, practically sat down on his leg.  You don’t bother to upright yourself, instead letting the rolling movement of the subway rock your needy pussy back and forth against Din’s thigh, slowly warming the ball of pleasure within you.

You’re practically humming with need in Din’s arms; just before the subway jerks to a stop, he growls in your ear, “Do you think you can come like this, baby? Or do you need me to fuck you in front of all these strangers, so they can see what a pretty whore you are?”.  The screech of the subway brakes cover-up your moans, and you’re only slightly relieved when Din withdraws his knee, but continues to hold you close against his chest.  As the train starts to move again, you look up at him with your lust hooded eyes, and quietly whine, “Daddy.”

Din chuckles and leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “No one gets to see you come but me, okay pretty bird?  Now can you be a good girl and be patient for daddy?  Just two more stops and I’ll give you that hat trick you deserve when we get home.”

Smiling dreamily at the promise of multiple orgasms, you nod, “Okay, I’ll be good.  As long as both teams get to have fun,” and as you snuggle deeper into Din’s arms, you feel his whole chest vibrate with laughter.

Part 2 (The Playoffs)

[jadelotusflower]

Julie Taymor’s filmed version of the play she debuted at Brooklyn’s Theater for a New Audience in 2013. In this splendid production, a reverie of love, lust, infatuation, and desire, the charmed Puck—in the visage of a Chaplinesque character—manipulates young lovers through a night of magical excitement and quintessential poetry.

[someniam]

Good evening! Just before Thanksgiving I decided to post this drawing I made of Puck Reverie standing with Purrcival! They're holding roses and (probably) staring at their significant others (while blushing). I hope you enjoy it! (Puck and Purrcy are background characters from OK K.O. in case you didn't know.)