Open RP Post

[dreamedboy]

⛈️ Hit me up on plurk or via PM if you have any questions/want to run an idea by me first/what-have-you.
⛈️ General squick/trigger list.
⛈️ m/m for anything shippy.
⛈️ General headcanon for Proko. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
⛈️ Proko's kink list.
⛈️ This is open to everyone who wants to thread with me!

Comments

[dreamedboy]

[There were a couple of ways Proko could have been genuinely upset about this and both of those worries had already been dispelled. Kavinsky hadn't purposely created another version of him. He hadn't done anything wrong or failed in some way as a boyfriend. If you could control your dreams, why not dream whatever self-indulgent bullshit Kavinsky had been dreaming? And whatever it was, Proko probably wanted it, too. But he knew how hard talking about some things could be for K, so he didn't blame him.

He did, however, laugh and swat him on the arm playfully.]

Of course, you'd be thinking about that already.

[But wouldn't Proko, if he'd found himself with two Kavinskys?

The older Proko laughed too, scrubbing at his eyes to get rid of any traces of tears. They were happy tears at least, as opposed to how he'd felt like everything was crumbling down around him in the first five seconds of really being alive.

He pressed a kiss to Kavinsky's shoulder, then another, soft and sweet.]

I think it can be arranged if you really wanna.

[dreamforger]

You're both gorgeous. And you're still the only boy I want -- so can you blame me?

[He grins, wicked and suggestive, but also adoring as he winks at his boyfriend. And he meant it, even if he says it casually: it's been a long time since Ronan was someone that he wanted. He still crept into his dreams sometimes, but not intentionally. He was happy with Prokopenko- more than happy.

He murmured, a slow flutter of his eyelashes, as the older boy pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He almost wanted to kiss him again, to wipe his tears away and just hold him in his arms, stroke his fingers along his spine like he had a night just over a year ago with Illya. When he'd first dreamt him back to life, murmuring his name into his hair and telling him he was okay.

But thankfully this was less traumatic: Lyuska hadn't really died. Kavinsky had saved him from that, not just eased the pain of it as much as he was capable. So it was easy to slide into this moment without feeling like he was being selfish -- or not too selfish, at least.]

Are you kidding? Of course I wanna. This is one of those fantasies. Twins or an older brother and they both wanna fuck you. 'Cept this is even better because it's you. My Illya and my Lyuska- oh, is that okay?

[He turns to the older one, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his skin.]

I should've asked.

[He knew names were important: why Josy was one of the only variants of his first name he'd accept without growling.]

[dreamedboy]

[Prokopenko guessed opportunities like this didn't really come up very often. As in, never. They never happened outside of dreams. It was better than them being twins because being the same person meant they were going to be thinking the same things--right? Proko didn't really know anything about the other version of himself beyond the fact he was some future fantasy of Kavinsky's.

He wanted Kavinsky all to himself and there wasn't even any competition- because there was only himself here with K. It was a good thing he didn't hate himself, or else things would've been more complicated. But as it was, he felt nothing but fierce protectiveness and fondness for his other self. They were both dreams and every dream was special.

Laughing softly, he kissed K on the cheek, dipping his head to kiss at his neck afterward.]

I love you.

[The older Proko smiled, warm and fond, and nodded.]

Yeah, it's okay.

[Honestly, Kavinsky could have called him just about anything and he would have accepted it, but Lyuska was near and dear to his heart. Everything about K was. Kavinsky tried so hard, he had so many hopes and dreams and Proko shared them, encouraged them, watched them grow. His love for the dreamer was almost overwhelming.]