Fics like mirror, mirror

Ryan tilts his head, quizzical, and Oliver wonders if he even remembers the pictures. They might only have been sent days ago but normally something like that Oliver himself would easily forget, lost in the shuffle of new lines and call times and reshoot dates. It’s unusual for such an impression to have been made and Oliver’s not sure he likes it. He’s certainly not sure he likes that it appears he’s alone in it. “Thought we might take a photo for Insta,” he explains. Then waggles his eyebrow and adds, “And then maybe recreate a certain fanart and take one not for the consumption of the general public.” Ryan’s brow furrows momentarily, and then clears out and he grins, huffing a laugh through his nose. “Seriously?” he asks, a touch disbelieving — Oliver is usually the victim of on-set hijinks, not the instigator — but he’s on board, if him standing from the couch can be taken to mean that. “Just a bit of fun,” Oliver guarantees, and steps into the tiny trailer bathroom. Or: Oliver finds some buddie fanart online and decides to recreate it with Ryan, for a laugh. They go off-script.

Fics like mirror, mirror

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