A/N: This is a little drabble I wrote up for my original Hanna-Barbera OTP. It’s actually part two of a short drabble collection, but I’m having trouble completing it ^^

This prompt is once again from the lovely @otpprompts. Enjoy this little modern day HuckleFlower coffeehouse AU!

Disclaimer: I obviously don’t own Desert Flower and Huckleberry Hound, or any of the other H-B characters that make cameos.

Prompt: Person A is a barista at a nearby coffee shop. They have grown fond of Person B, who they have a crush on. One day, when B orders their coffee, A writes their number on the cup.

Bonus: B sees the number and keeps the cup so they won't lose it.

2nd Bonus: B has had a crush on A the entire time.

"Desert Flower, your order's ready!"

Desert Flower sprinted over to the counter, where the barista placed her order of cafe macchiato and a cherry turnover. Thankfully, her job was only ten minutes away, so she could eat on the way there. Normally, she'd take her time to savor the turnover, because it was one of the best that she'd ever had, but there was no time this morning. Plus, her temperamental boss didn't want people eating in the office anymore since there'd been a mouse problem in the past and he didn't want to pay for it.

It took some bustling, but she managed to get to the front to receive her order from the barista. The barista in question was a blue-furred hound named Huck, short for Huckleberry, something that she found adorable. She started frequenting the H-B Coffeehouse more frequently because of the closure of her old coffee spot, The Pitstop; she came there so often they knew each other by name, and he didn't have to ask what she wanted to order. She loved coming here because of the lively bustle and the various people it attracted, from strange blue creatures to a touring animal band.

Huck was a bonus, too-he was cute, charming and always knew what to say to make her laugh. But that was a story for another time.

"Thanks again, Huck," she answered, giving him a smile. She pulled out a few dollars from her purse. "Almost forgot this."

He returned it as he took the tip, and she felt her heart skip. His smiles never failed to do that. "You're welcome, an' thank ya kindly," he answered. "Made it jus' the way you like it."

"I will," she answered, picking up her cup and bag and making her way out. "And I'll be back later this evening for that writer's club!"

"I'm lookin' forward ta seein' ya!" he called after her.

She chuckled as she went out the door. Of course, she was looking forward to seeing him too. Perhaps this time, she'd finally tell him that she liked him. She didn't know if he liked her like that, but there was no harm in asking.

After narrowly avoiding bumping into a diminutive, balding man, she hurried out the door and into the street, exhaling as the cold air hit her face. "If I hurry, I can eat my turnover before it's time to clock in. But my macchiato will have to go afterwards."

She started to take a sip of her drink, but her eye quickly caught something scribbled at the bottom of the cup. Pausing, she lifted the foam cup up and saw a small message scrawled on the side in dark blue ink.

310-990-8675

-Huckleberry Hound

Her eyes widened in surprise. She spared a look inside the store, where the bar was swamped with customers. Huck, who was serving one of them, looked over at the window. Their eyes locked, and he sent a friendly smile as well as a wink.

She remembered his words from a moments ago, and felt heat come on her face-this time not out of embarrassment. She returned the smile with a wide grin of her own. So he had liked her after all. This wasn't the first time someone had asked her out on a date, but this was by far the cutest ask she'd gotten in a while.

She saw the clock on the wall, and her smile dropped slightly. It was 8:52 already?! She sent a quick wave towards Huck and charged down the street, holding onto her food and drink for dear life. When she was far from the place, she allowed a girlish smile to cross her face.

Imagine your superhero AU OTP+ battling their supervillain AU versions of themselves.

“This is...“ huffed Joseph, interrumpted by the merciless pounding that echoed through the small, fortified room. Caesar immediatly went to his aid, pushing the steel door shut.

“Completely illogical?“ he suggested, pushed backwards by another round of pounding, but hurrying back to his position. “Extremely nonsensical?“

“No..! I mean, yes,“ Joseph hesitated, looking around in desperation for something that could block the door. The room was mostly empty, save from some wooden boxes that would’t do much against what was pursuing them. So he activated his hidraulic steel gloves, trying to push against the door. “But that’s not what I’m saying.“

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg Characters: Willow Rosenberg, Tara Maclay, Xander Harris Additional Tags: Christmas, Compulsory Christmas Celebration, Hints of Smut, Crack, Like REALLY Crack, Like Escalating-Levels-of-Bullshit Crack, Shameless Movie References Series: Part 1 of Prompted Christmas fics (from someone who hates Christmas) Summary:

Tara wants to support Willow in her new job.

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A/N: So, this is for the december 28 th   prompt of the Magnus Appreciation Month: red. I combined with an @ otpprompts prompt that is: Imagine person A walking into the living room and finding person B sitting on the couch before they realise B is wearing an oversized Christmas sweater. And nothing else.

I said prompt like 4 times lol anyways english is not my first language and I’m just having fun writing this so happy holidays and reading bye!

Link to ao3.

Surprisingly, it was still early in the night when Alec arrived at the loft.

It was the day after Christmas, and honestly Magnus thought he was gonna be all night chasing demons. Not that he complained; he rather having his boyfriend here with him.  

It was also worth it, by the looks Alexander was giving him. He smiled as he stared to the rather heated look of his companion. The loft was warm and cozy, and Magnus decided to ditch the pants and curl on the sofa in front of the fire, with Chairman Meow and a blanket throw over his legs, drinking a warm cup of chocolate.

A winter fanfic for the cold holidays, for whatever you celebrate, or whether or not you celebrate! Just some fun.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Naruto Category: M/M Relationships: Deidara/Uchiha Obito or Deidara/Tobi (Naruto)

Summary:

They're snowed in and, only because of the cold, cuddles in front of the fire.

Read on AO3 or FFN.

Based on this otpprompts prompt.

Excerpt:

“Why didn’t senpai wear thicker clothes?” Tobi asks, sitting down with his legs crossed and watching Deidara.

Based on @otpprompts‘s prompt

AO3: x

~~~~~~~~~

"Nu-uh, no way, I'll be dead and buried before that happens. You have your fun with my cold corpse, Cassidy."

He squinted at Tulip under the neon lights, needing to shout to be heard over the music. "Okay first off, that's all kinds of messed up imagery, and this is comin' from the literal undead guy, alright? And second, why the bloody hell not?"

Tulip crossed her arms and settled in. "I don't dance."

“You don’t…?” Cass gapped and turned to Jesse—who shook his head in defeat.

"Trust me, she don't dance."

"But you're exactly the dancin' type!"

"Tell that to my friends 'no' and 'fuck you.'"

They were starting to hold up the line to the bar. It wasn't really the kind of venue for standing around. The whole space was the dance floor and if you weren't moving it was because you couldn't anymore. In fact, Cass could see the tight-shirted men going around to pick up the unconscious partiers and for just a brief moment he had a rush of fond nostalgia. This place was a mess. The kind of mess that Jesse and Tulip both should have loved.

He clapped Tulip hard on the shoulder. "All you need is a little liquid courage, luv."

"That is not what I said."

"Maybe somethin' a little stronger."

"You're digging yourself in real deep, Cassidy."

For all that though Tulip did move when the time came, letting Cass drag her towards the middle of the room, though she still seemed to resist him the whole way. It was an act—a damn good one—but an act none-the-less. Jesse didn't need a lifetime of experience learning Tulip's body language to know that: it was in the fact that she went at all.

She doesn't dance, he thought. Tulip never had. Jesse thought she never would. It was just one of those quirky little things about her, maybe something self-conscious or fearful. Not that it mattered. Whatever held her back before was oozing away now and Jesse watched, mesmerized, as Cass did a goofy turn, coaxing a laugh, sidled closer, and rested his hands commandingly on Tulip's hips.

After a moment of hesitation they began to sway.

She's dancing, he thought now and Jesse saw the Tulip that had kissed Cass so convincingly the other night. The one whose acting skills had been as flimsy as they were tonight.

They had kissed. They were dancing.

Except it’s less dodging due to nerve and more Jesse being an oblivious ass 

AO3: x

~~~~~~~~~~~

"You did what?"

Trust Jesse Custer to make this sound like some awful kind of sin. Cass dithered for a moment before tapping the basket with his foot.

"Did the laundry," he muttered, feeling the squishy sweatshirt against his toes. When Jesse continued to stare Cass adopted a scowl that was so very far from what he'd been aiming for. Couldn't make it go away though. His stomach was in knots and his hands were pouring sweat, but you sure wouldn't know it from his expression.

"What? There's a mat just a few blocks down. Can't a bloke pull his weight once in a while?"

Jesse softened. "You do, Cass," he said—and then the suspicion came rushing back. "But you despise doing laundry. So what exactly is it you’re after?"

He had no spit to swallow with. Cass had to clear his throat twice before getting a word out and when they did come they were raspy with nerves. "Right now all I'm 'after' is someone to help me fold this mess. You up for it?"

Jesse paused.

"Nice try," he said, standing from the motel bed and laughing as he went by, clapping Cass hard on the shoulder. "You started this little chore, you can damn well finish it. Help the vampire fold laundry..." Jesse shook his head like that was the funniest thing he'd heard in years and hell, maybe it was.

He left, closing the door behind him. Slowly, Cass picked up a shirt from the top of the bundle, the one he'd been hoping Jesse would grab for himself.

A pretty gold ring tumbled out onto the carpet.

"Well that didn't fuckin' work," Cass muttered.

***

He tried again the next day, with food this time, though there wasn't much fancy to work with out in Bumfuck Nowhere, Texas. To make maters worse, Jesse's normal munchies were... problematic. Ring didn't fit into the top of a beer can or a bottle. And who the fuck put one under a burger bun? Getting all slimy with ketchup and mustard, to say nothing of the fact that Jesse would probably break his damn tooth on it. Honestly, didn't the man have anything refined in his life?

The answer was no. Cass settled for dumping the ring in a bag of Funyuns.

"Thanks," Jesse said absently. He took the bag between thumb and forefinger and it was like severing Cass' whole arm. "You seen Tulip?"

Cass loved the woman, but he didn't want to talk about Tulip right now. "Nah. Out somewhere."

"Excellent," and Jesse quickly changed the channel to Say Yes to the Dress. "You say nothing."

Cass mimed sealing his lips despite the fact that they were splitting wide with a grin. "Never, padre."

And for a while things were perfectly normal. Jesse watched his chick-flick material as Cass watched him eat the Funyuns, one after another after another until he was sure the goddamn bag was endless. Cass was a pathetic, jittery mess—and Jesse noticed.

"You okay?" he asked. "Aw fuck, Cass. You're not using again are you?"

"No!"

"Well then what's got under your skin all of a sudden?"

His mouth worked. Nothing came out. Again. Cass settled for shrugging until he could say, "Just bored."

"Well then let's go find something fun to do. I’ve seen this one anyhow. A lot."

Jesse popped one last Funyun into his mouth, extended the bag to Cass, and when he could only shake his head dumbly he balled up the rest and tossed it into the trash. Jesse was going on about a shooting range nearby, already heading towards their stolen truck as Cass dived into the basket and fished the bag out.

He pocketed the ring, smelling of cheap, fried goodness.

***

Day three. What was it they said? Third time was the charm? Not bloody likely. Not by that look on Jesse's face.

"You heard me," Cass said. The nerves were gone. "I fucking love you, Jesse Custer, now are you gonna marry me or not? Because I'm getting real sick of this nonsense."

"Getting sick of...?" Jesse went cross-eyed trying to see the ring shoved under his nose.

"Yeah. Not all of us are oblivious assholes. So just give me an answer because romance is way fuckin' dead and I—"

Oh. Hmm. Or not. That kiss felt pretty romantic...