This is pure sugary sweet cotton candy fluffy fluff (with bickering on top). They're at a carnival or whatever, okay? So, cotton candy. It's mostly dialogue, but that's the way I wanted it, really. Partly inspired by the recently released Glee photobooth shoot (too cute), and suggested by Mar, who runs the amazing gorgeous mind explodingly awesome Puckleberry site, Rachel and Puck Online. It's insane and I'm in love with it. Go there now. No, seriously. Right after you read this, of course. :D ONWARDS!

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"No fucking way, Berry."
"Noah, it'll be fun."
"About as fun as gouging my own eyes out with one of those plastic sporks."
"Quit being so grumpy--"
"Forget it. It's super lame and like.. cliche. And gay."
"Have you ever done it before?"
"No, and I don't plan to."
"Noah! Pictures are the most lasting form of a memorable experience we have. Don't you want to look back on this day and reminisce?" Rachel eyes grew very wide.
"Uh.. but there-- see, look, there's people in there. Ah well, maybe later--"
"No, they're coming out! Aww, they look happy. See? Fun. Let's go!"

She dragged Puck after her into the photobooth, nearly pulling his arm out of the socket. Sitting down on the narrow bench, she was practically bouncing as she smoothed out her skirt.

"Sit! Close the curtain."

Puck sighed loudly, looking thoroughly tortured as Rachel fed money into the machine's slot.

"Okay, we should obviously do different poses, how about nice big smiles first? Great. How do I look? Is my hair okay? I feel as if it's behaving peculiarly today."

Puck opened his mouth to answer but she continued without waiting for one.

"I'm sure it's fine. Can you believe Kurt asked me earlier if I borrowed my clothes from the set of Ab Fab?"
"Uhh.. no, I can not believe that."
"As if my fashion choices reflect those of an aging British chainsmoker who--"
"Babe, you should probably stop talki--"
"And anyway this outfit is completely acceptable fo--"

*CLICK*

".. Noah, did you push the button?!"
"Was I.. not supposed to..?"
"Now we've missed a photo opportunity. As a future Broadway representative I need to be ready for the camera at all times. An unfortunate photo taken even at the wrong angle could reflect upon myself and my workplace, and earn unnecessary slander. The public is vicious. Jealousy, mostly."
"Right. Well. Anyway--"
"Noah, stop talking. Big smile! Ready?"
"Uh huh. Oh.. Rach, what's on your shirt? Is that ketchup or something?"
"What? Where?"

*CLICK*

"... NOAH!"
"Ha. Sorry, babe, couldn't help it."
"You're so annoying-- wait, why are you still looking at my shirt? Is there really someth--... oh, you are such an objectifying pig."
"Is it my fault if you've got a fantastic ra-- ow! Ow, geez, Berry, violence? I thought you didn't approve of th--"
"You. Are. Not. Amusing."
"Ah! Quit it, crazy--"

*CLICK*

"Well that's just fantastic. Now what? Ooh ooh, switch places with me."
".. Why?"
"So we can position ourselves like-- ow, look out."
"Rachel, sit the fuck down-- that's my foot. You're on my foot."
"Noah, scoot over--!"
"Berry, sit dow--"

*CLICK*

"....."
".. Told you."
"Oh, well, perfect, Noah. It's over."
"Finally.."
"No, we're doing another one."
"What--"
"I said.. we're doing another one."
"... Okay, so babe, did you want to do another one?"
"Ha. Ha. Cute."

Rachel crammed a few more singles into the machine like it had caused her a personal wrong, muttering under her breath. Puck inched away slightly as she sat up straight. Crazy people..

"Okay, now. Nice smiles, okay? Please."
"Yeah, yeah, okay."
"I'm pushing the button. Are you smiling?"
"I'm smiling, Berry. Jesus."
"I'm only asking."
"I'm honestly gonna trap you on the Tilt-A-Whirl until you puke after this."
"Aw. Empty threats are cute."

*CLICK*

"Okay, now... scared!"
"Believe me, I am," Puck muttered dryly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You don't look very scared."
"I'm a dude. I don't get scared."
"Okay... pretend you just saw Coach Sylvester in her birthday suit."

"Scary, right?"

*CLICK*

"Now silly! Make a face. One that isn't a smirk or a grimace, 'kay?"
"Berry, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm puffing out my cheeks! And crossing my eyes. Clearly. Come on, stick out your tongue or something."
"Nah, I know what to do."

*CLICK*

"Alright, last one. Ooh, how about voguing? Or, maybe.. jazz hands?"
".. What? Fuck no. I have a way better idea."
"Better? Like what? What are you-- ... oh."

*CLICK*

Moments after the last flash went off, Rachel was climbing over Puck and dashing out of the photobooth to grab the results of the last somewhat cramped 10 minutes. She focused on the most recent, squinting at it and frowning.

"What is this? Are you flexing? This was supposed to be the normal one."
"And that is how I normally look."
"Oh, please, you're just trying to look 'badass'."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. The Puckerone does not have to try--"
"I honestly wish you'd stop referring to yourself in the third person with that ridiculous nickname. It makes you sound like a demented superhero."
"Um, not unless my power is in my pant--"

"Ahem."

Some irritating kid gave the pair a pointed look as they blocked the entrance to the photobooth.Puck proceeded to shoot him a glare that made him immediately shut up and look in another direction, but guided Rachel to the side by her elbow as she continued to pour over the photos.

"Rolling your eyes and looking disgusted, what a surprise-- wh... Noah, why are you smiling all normally during the silly faces one? It makes me look nuts!"
He grinned. "That was the idea."
"Ugh.. all of these are still supremely bizarre. Except--"

Rachel ran her fingers over the tiny black and white image of Puck's lips pressed to her cheek. She personally thought she looked like a moron with that look on her face, but..

Biting her lip to hide a smile, she looked up to find Puck leering at her and reddened. "It'll have to do," she said casually, casting an innocent look off into the crowd. He smirked.

Yeah. I'm awesome.

Turning her attention back to the other collection of pictures, Rachel grimaced.

"This, however, is horrid. We'll have to burn it."

Puck snatched the offending photostrip out of her hand. "Nah, I'll keep this one." He tapped the rather unflattering snapshot of Rachel in midsentence. "It's more accurate anyway."

Rachel glowered at him, jumping fruitlessly as he held it easily out her reach. "Shrimp."
"Noah--!"
"Let's see.. talking, looking at yourself, abuse.. yup, it's all here--"
"Oh, shut up," she growled, crossing her arms.

He snorted at her sulky expression. "Aw, ease up, Rach. I mean, you look kinda cute trying to beat the crap out of me."

She rolled her eyes, not looking over.

"C'mon, let's go do a game, I'll win you some crappy.. stuffed bear or something."

"Ha! Not likely. You always accuse the games of being rigged because you're so terrible at them. I'm more likely to win you a bear." She poked a manicured finger at his chest.
"Hold the phone. Are you doubting my ultra manly ability to win you things, Berry?"
"No, I'm discounting it completely, Puckerman." She smiled up at him sweetly.

He scoffed. "Oh, it is so on. I'm gonna win the cutest most barf inducingly big ass stuffed whatever they have. Just you watch."

Rachel slipped her hand into his as they started to walk, lacing their fingers together and nodding.

"Oh, mhmm. I'll watch. And laugh," she teased.
"Your lack of confidence in me is really shocking."
"I have confidence in you, Noah, it's your ring toss abilities I find below par."
"Screw that, I'm a man on a mission now. Let's go."

Grinning, Rachel happily let Puck pull her along this time.

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