[open] CATCH ALL

[reallynow]

Who| ALL Y'ALL it's a ho down
What| A catch-all reaction log for the plot developments. Saves you from making 5 logs each tbh.
Where| All around the place
When| During and post lock down, 3am~ sunday onward
WARNINGS| Panicking, talk of murder and violence. Singing the songs of panem.

When things like THIS and THIS are going down it's probably a good time to touch base with one another. Face caressing, crying and meaningful stares abound as the Tributes and Staff drag their knuckles hopelessly in an effort to figure out what the fresh hell is going on.

Make your own prompts, feel free to make them closed to specific people.

Comments

[fuckingcool]

Oliver can feel himself growing frustrated, but he's trying not to let it show. His real parents don't give a shit what he does, as long as he doesn't fuck up their reputation, but his adopted family actually care for him, and that's weird. He needs to remember to be grateful that someone's looking out for him. So he lets out a whine, but begrudgingly agrees.

"Fine," he grumbles, trying not to sound too grateful. "Just, you be careful, please. You're my family, you bitter old queen, and I love you."

[reallynow]

Having a family was definitely not in the cards for Trey, not for a long time anyway. People were jerks for reasons he couldn't always put a finger on and becoming a stylist just meant he was watching more and more kids run off to die. If that doesn't make you a little worried for the future, nothing will. So it's kind of convenient, in a way, that a needy older kid with a shitty family should fall into his hands.

He definitely thinks of Oliver as his kid more than his friend, so this is a hard situation to face.

"I know," He retorts with a smirk. "If I can't help fix things for you then there's no point, right? Just trust me, that's all I need."

[fuckingcool]

"Yeah, yeah, you're super capable and shit," Oliver groans, hiding the fact that he's actually super grateful that Trey is looking out for him. Trying to help make a better world for him and everyone else that doesn't suck.

"Just, like, don't go fucking dying or some shit, okay? I can't fuckin' handle a funeral for a drag queen. Those morticians don't know how to paint like we do."

[reallynow]

"Of course I fucking am. I'm fucking ancient, if I wasn't good at doing shit I'd be dead." He snorts, pushing closer so he can tighten his arms around Oliver. The tiredness is really hitting him at this point, but talking is comforting.

"I'll haunt your sorry ass if they bury me looking anything less than flawless." He grumbles, rubbing Oliver's back as he does. "Speaking of- We should get some rest or we'll look like tramps. Or more so for you, right? Whatever."

[fuckingcool]

Ollie glady snuggles up, right under Trey's chin. He's a true bottom, after all. The kohai to Trey's dorito-faced senpai. His arms slide around Trey's middle and he lets his eyes fall shut.

"You're right. Gotta get rid of those undereye circles of yours somehow." That's right. He can read a bitch no matter how exhausted. "Night, mama."