motorkink | PROMPT POST

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PROMPT POST

General Rules

motorkink has zero tolerance towards prompts and comments containing personal attacks on other community users and private individuals, including bullying, kink shaming, and hate speech. Comments violating this rule will be deleted.
If your comment is deleted/screened/frozen and you don't know why, it is up to you to PM a mod or make a comment in the Ask the Mods page. ALSO: If there is anything in the kink meme that breaks the rules/requires deletion, don't self-mod, please alert a mod and we'll take care of it.
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TL;DR: Be nice to one another, this fandom is already pretty chill, let's keep it that way.

Prompting Rules

One prompt per comment.
Please follow the correct format (see below).
Include trigger warnings in the subject line.
Gen or otherwise not 'kinky' prompts are welcome too.

Format of Prompts (for Subject Line)

Alphabetize pairings/threesomes/moresomes to streamline archive tagging/searching. (e.g. Chuck/Mike/Texas)
For crossover prompts: "[Crossover], Motorcity Character(s)/Other Character(s), [Fandom]" (e.g. [Crossover], Kane/Tarrlock, [Legend of Korra])
Put [GEN] before GEN prompts.

Fills

Link to NSFW images/videos. Don't embed.
Trigger warnings still apply, you must add them in regardless if the prompter did so or not.
Fills may be posted anonymously or not.
Fills can be anything: fic, art, vid, fanmix, podfic, etc.
For fic fills, make sure to have the fill be viewable on the kink meme itself. Linking is fine, but for the sake of permanency/archiving, please put it in a comment as well.
All prompts are open to fills at all times, multiple fills are more than welcome.
If you prompt something, please try to fill your fellow anons' prompts as well!
Whether you have a work in progress or completed fill, post a link to it in the fill post.

**Spoiler Policy**

Any prompt that includes spoilers for the latest/leaked episode should have a spoiler warning in the subject line.

7/16/2012: GOOD NEWS! Your fellow anons, S and B have graciously ARCHIVED EVERYTHING, and did a stellar job at that too! Now you can look up for prompts to fill, completed/wips/artfills in the meme, and look up stuff by character, pairing, and kinks/genres! We also now have a new mod,

boyshort! She'll be on board to help out with archiving full time and mod things. \o/!!

8/3/2012: There is now a daily km update comm,

archivefastarchivefree! Man, people in this fandom love being organized. This is awesome. :'D

8/7/2012: POM over at Titmouse has reached out to MC fans to help them fill out a brand marketing survey for Disney XD, let's help them out!

8/25/2012: Help out the world while you're surfing the KM (and the internet in general). Donate your unused computing power toward solving important, world-impacting problems by way of World Community Grid. Process data that are looking to find the cure for muscle dystrophy, track human activity patterns that can lead to sustainable water, come up with a drug to fight malaria, and more!

9/4/2012:

archivefastarchivefree now has a tumblr mirror, for those without dreamwidth accounts.

11/06/12: Soldier on. In the meantime, fyeahmotorcity has a bunch of links to click on, so pick your protest of choice.

AS YOU WERE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Okay so hear me out - imagine if the burners run a small, cozy cafe and Kane was the owener of a rival chain trying to shut them down. So then we have Chuck, starting a new job at the burners cafe, only to reveal to Mike (one of the chefs and the guy who got him the job) the gasp! He cannot actually cook! So Mike being the good sport he is offers him a crash course in it before he officially starts his job, Blonde Thunder style. I understand it's probably not the easiest thing to male shippy, so don't feel pressured!

Bonus (because this is the kink meme) if it turns into hot sex over a counter, with - if you so fancy - power bottom Mike

Holy shit this is the cutest thing ever, I love Cafe AUs. Seconding this like lightning.

Can not OP request there be cake decorating lessons? That could lead to licking some whipped cream frosting off of body parts.

holy mackerel that is the best idea! yes, OP certainly likes it uwu

omg cafe au's are THE BEST. goshhh i really want this!!! (and the bonus!! power bottom mike is my favorite)

wow i need this in my life

i did some doodles because i had some of this way cute dialogue in mind AND I REALLY WANT TO WRITE TOO BUT I DUNNO IF I CAN HANDLE THIS

http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7vfmzq8gu1r9zaouo1_1280.png
http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7vfmzq8gu1r9zaouo2_1280.png
http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7vfmzq8gu1r9zaouo3_1280.png

i also had this comic where chuck burns his hand because he "forgot the pan was hot" and mike is like "HOW COULD YOU FORGET" and chuck is like "I JUST DID OK" and...... it still burns after awhile so..... mike kisses it better...... yeah

but but THE COMIC TURNED OUT Real Bad so i am not publicizing it ok but if.... IF I HAPPEN TO FILL THIS WITH A FIC, that is happening

because i mean..... cafe au, cooking crash course, powerbottom mike? count me the fuck in

Boh! They're so cute! I find cooking fail adorable for some reason.

AH! The last one! I'm dying XD

wow i told myself i wouldn't write this too BUT I DID, I DID AND I'M KIND OF SORRY BUT I'M ALSO REALLY EXCITED. i didn't want to put the title of the fic in the subject because it's lame, but in my head this is called 'FAKE IT TILL YOU BAKE IT.' i am a monster I'M SORRY

--

On a bus crowded wall-to-wall with busybodies, Chuck finds himself shivering with anxiety. Next stop, he thinks. Next stop and I've got to face this big ol' monster in its hairy face. That is, if he can sliver through the sweaty clump of humans blocking his way to the nearest exit. His slim frame won't even save him now, in these desperate times--when he hears the relieving ding of the stop request, he mutters, "Excuse me." No one moves, so he says it a notch louder--"Excuse me." Only few people move, and there are still obstacles remaining--"Excuse me!"

The doors open to his future. He quietly thanks the bus driver. He looks at the littered, splotchy sidewalk before him, thinks to himself how threatening it is before hopping onto the curb--and landing face first in a pair of black shoes.

"Excuse me," Chuck says for the umpteenth time, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Oww." He wipes his face frantically--am I bleeding, sweet baby gumdrops, am I bleeding? No blood, just pain. He stands up on his feet, brushing himself off, oh, the germs of the city and how they've contaminated him too early in the morning.

"Bright and early, are we?" a chipper voice jingles.

Chuck realizes who he's just planted face-first into--it's that guy. That super nice, suave, too-tan-to-be-true, reincarnation of James Bond? Sweet baby gumdrops, indeed.

"Oh, God. Oh, God, Mr. Chilton!" A nervous laugh breaks out, piercing the embarrassed ears of the socially capable. "I'm so sorry, did I mess up your shoes? Those are probably outrageously expensive, man, they're so nice, and I bet I just got my face planted all over it--let me check again for scratches, man, I am so sorry!"

Mike Chilton steps back, silently insisting that Chuck should not look again at his shoes. "It's fine, it's fine, really! I'm surprised to see you here so early. I haven't even opened up yet." He jingles his set of keys. "Come on in, bro."

And then Chuck was inside the empty, unoccupied, quiet version of the Buns 'n' Burner.

The Buns 'n' Burner: a highly acclaimed, intimate cafe, owned by the charming Mike Chilton. Although it was known for its legendary pastries, they did serve a variety of cute sandwiches--as well as a medley of flavored coffees and teas. They did serve many a bun, however, nothing really had anything to do with Bunsen burners.

The real Burners were in the kitchen.

Though empty at this given moment, the Buns 'n' Burner was also known for its close-knit staff, self-titled the Burners.

"It's ironic," Mike explains, "because we cook everything to perfection. It was before we got so good that we consistently burnt things--that's where the name comes from."

"You guys are modest, huh," Chuck says.

"We haven't burned a single thing in years!" Mike exclaimed, flicking on the kitchen lights. "And we haven't had a new member of the staff in years, either." He puts down his bag, ogling Chuck, whose knobby knees are still rattling. "There's just something about you, man. And those cupcakes I had? Superb."

Chuck nodded with a crooked smile. Thank goodness for the hair in his eyes, because Mike is never going to notice the nervous tears building up.

Rewind to a few weeks prior to this day. It was partly cloudy (or was it partly sunny? Chuck could never tell the difference). The weather didn't matter, because there was something about Mike Chilton that lit up a room. Chuck didn't recognize him at the time, of course, it wasn't like he was a celebrity or anything--just the normal, not-so-humble owner of a hip neighborhood cafe.

They were at a party--a party--who even does parties anymore?--when they had to make small talk at a nondescript snack table. The small talk was less forced than most, though. They reached for the same cupcake plate, which was predictable, in retrospect; when Chuck thinks back on it, it feels unreal, like a cartoonish opportunity sprung upon him.

The cupcakes were small, very bite-sized. They were red velvet, but with some sort of creamy, godly nectar atop it, which could not be classified as cream cheese frosting. Whatever it was, Mike fell in love with it, and had to tell the nearest person.

"These cupcakes are frickin' amazing," he said to Chuck.

Chuck hadn't even bitten into his yet. "Are they?"

"Yes, oh, my God." Mike licked his fingers, savoring the mysterious frosting. "Where did they come from? Would you happen to know?"

Chuck stuffed the whole thing in his mouth. "Oh, um," he said, muffled, "I made them." Why? he asked himself. There is quite literally no reason in this world for you to tell this man that you made these cupcakes.

"You made them?" Mike said in disbelief.

"Yeah." Chuck had no idea what he was saying. "I could give you the recipe if you want." Why don't you just stop right there before you get yourself into any trouble? "It's real easy."

"Oh! Oh, yeah, man, I'd love the recipe!" Mike's eyes lit up. "I own a cafe and this would be great to serve. I mean, we already serve red velvet cupcakes, but what is with that frosting? Marvelous, just fantastic, man."

"Oh, thanks, man, thanks," Chuck said with genuine gratitude, as if he'd even convinced himself he was responsible for these delicacies.

Mike's charm lassoed Chuck right in the for kill. Mike wanted him on his team. Chuck wanted to be on the team--once Mike mentioned the name of his cafe, Chuck just wouldn't stop with the made-up baking tips. He even started taking tips from hair care. "You know, sprinkle, sprinkle, repeat," he'd say.

In truth, he did not know where those red velvet cupcakes came from. They could have come from planet Neptune, for all he knew, but the story now, was that they came from him.

And now Chuck is tangled in a situation he isn't sure he can unknot, all because of some stupid cupcakes.

Buns 'n' Burner

I-

cheesings let me love you ;_;

i am crying into my hands this is hilarious oh my god

chuck is going to die

Oh my gosh I just came back from holiday to see this! Youve really made my day uwu this and the doodles were all so cute omfg

ah, i'm so glad you like it! i'm trying to get back into the groove of writing it, but it's gonna be good. :o)

oH MYOGd
im going to piss oh my god this is SO GREAT>????

reposted in reply to my first part because i replied to the parent comment instead. I TOLD YOU I WAS DUMB
anyways, have a little bit o' chuck backstory. i'm thoroughly convinced that he was raised by two mommies, because of reasons.
hope you enjoy!

--

Chuck had reasoned with himself that it wasn't the cupcakes themselves that got him into this situation. It was Mike "I Can Ruin Your Life By Looking You In the Eyes" Chilton. And that's why Chuck always keeps his hair curtains on--no one can pierce him in his very soul with eye contact. Eye contact is something he fears, which never really struck him as a problem until he entered his teenage years. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you," they'd say. "Can you see?" they'd ask. "Get a haircut," they'd chant. And Chuck would just shrug, and flip the hair out of his eyes for a split second just to check if the person was staring him down. He did get a good perception of his surroundings through the chunks of hair, but it was only as much as he wanted to see. It's safe behind his bangs. Like when he would hide beneath the quilts as a kid, so the monsters living under the bed wouldn't get him. Monsters are no match for his mothers' soft quilts.

He'd attempt to peek over the dining room table, as short as he was at the age of six--to see the progress of his mothers' quilting. "Are you done?" he'd press. "Are you done now? How about now?"

"No, pumpkin," Mama would say. "You can't protect yourself from monsters with an unfinished quilt."

"Maybe I can!" Chuck said. "It's only a matter of time before they get me, so hurry up!" He remembered his manners. "Please!"

Then Mama would drop her scissors, and Mommy would drop her fabric, looking at each other, laughing lightly. Mommy said, "Honey, it's not a matter of time. It's a matter of timing."

Chuck was puzzled. He didn't think this phrase would make the quilt get finished faster, nor did he think the monsters had a strict schedule to follow. Maybe they did? There was nothing scarier than an uptight, organized monster. He'd get eaten, and the monster would still have time to run the rest of its errands. He thought it was horrifying. So, instead of going straight to bed with his regular old blanket, he flipped his hair out of his eyes, shrugged, and sat down with his mothers, watching them cut and sew and patch.

"Chuck, honey, it's time for lights out," Mama said. Chuck was falling asleep at the table.

"But I wanna..." He yawned. "... I wanna watch you make it."

"It's too late. Come on, time for bed."

"Nooooo," Chuck groaned, though he didn't put up much of a protest when she picked him up and slung him over her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling comfortably. "Don't turn off all the lights."

"I won't. You know I never do," she said, setting him down on his little racecar bed. "And remember, you've always got your nightlight."

"It's not that bright."

Mommy was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Bright or not, monsters are afraid of sailboats."

"But why?" Chuck asked. Mama flicked on the mini sailboat light. "Sailboats aren't scary."

Mama tucked him in, and Mommy went to his closet, separating all the clothes so they didn't make scary shapes in the darkness. Then they were both crouched down next to Chuck's bed, straightening out the blanket so it covered him from neck to toe. Mommy stroked his hair. "Monsters aren't afraid of the same things we are," she said.

"Mattie, stop building it up," Mama laughed.

"But it's true!" Mommy insisted. "Monsters hate cookies and puppies and sunsets on the beach. They hate all things precious and beautiful, like Chuck." She poked his tummy. "That's why they'll never get you," she said, kissing him on the forehead.

Chuck smiled, clutching his purple hippo. "That's good."

"Yes, it is," Mama said, kissing him on the forehead as well. "Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"What!" Chuck cried. "There's bed bugs?"

"No!" Both mothers cried in unison. They looked at each other and jerked their heads at Chuck, silently telling each other, "you're responsible for this one."

Mama did take the fall. "It's just an expression. Your bed is very clean. No bed bugs, pumpkin."

"Now go to sleep!" Mommy said. "Or else you'll never show those monsters who's boss."

"Okay!" Chuck shut his eyes tight. "Good night, mommies!"

"Good night, Chuck," they both said.

"What about Pippy?" He held up the hippo.

"Good night, Pippy," they said, quietly walking out, leaving on every hallway light to seep into Chuck's dark room.

-------

So it is Mike's fault that he's in this situation right now, not his own, and not the cupcakes. That is clear. This is what happens to people when they try to abide by social commons. Askin' about recipes and whatnot--who does that?

Then Chuck remembered he offered the recipe in the first place; the theory that this was all Mike's fault starts to fade gradually.

"Charles? Dude? You okay?" Mike is asking. Had Chuck not spoke? Or moved? For awhile? He hadn't noticed.

"Oh," says Chuck, snapping out of it. "You can call me Chuck. Sorry, uh. No one really calls me Charles."

"Hm," Mike says. "Chuck. Sweet. Cool." He lets that sit for a second. "Oh, and you can call me Mike. Not Mr. Chilton. I'm not like, above you or anything."

Yes. Yes, you are, and you don't even realize it, you bastard-coated bastard with charming filling. I bet you know how to cook something like that, too. And it would taste delicious. "Okay, Mike," Chuck says.

"All right, so, do you wanna get sta--"

"Can I use your bathroom?" Chuck asks impulsively.

Mike stops. Blinks. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

"Uh, where... is it...? Again?" Again? There was no first time. Stop lying to yourself, Charles.

"Uh, well, the employees' bathroom is right over the--" He points vaguely, and Chuck just shouts, "yeah, thanks!" and zips on over to sit on the toilet and totally not cry.

Crying? No. He isn't crying. Hyperventilating because of this anxiety-inducing situation, yeah. Same thing, just dryer. He sits in a stall with his face in his hands, letting out shaky breaths and groans. He tries to convince himself everything is okay, and that Mike won't flip a scalding hot pan onto his face if he admits he can't cook. But then he remembers, that's not in his best interest, because hell, he really, really needs a job.

Bad ideas. Bad ideas. Why do I only lead my life through bad ideas.

He knows Mike's the nicest guy in Detroit, but what if that's part of his cheery-cafe-owner persona? Like, if you mess with what means most to him--his cafe, his cooking, his Burners--does he turn into a huge, terrifying monster? With like, chainsaws for arms? Probably. That's what he's getting at, yeah. No one can be that nice without there being some sort of catch. Chuck bites his fingernails. Hard.

He hears voices outside. Mike's soothing one, of course, but it's only going to be so soothing before he finds out the truth. There's another voice, deeper than Mike's. Triumphant in tone, almost--Chuck can't make out full sentences, but he hears "new kid" and "cupcakes" and "delicious as heck." Everything he doesn't want to hear. Then, the Voice That's Not Mike's gets louder.

"New kid? Woah. Texas doesn't know what to make of this."

I need the approval of the entire state of Texas? Shit. I'm done. It's over. Is there a window in here? I'm out.

"Don't worry, Tex. He knows what he's doing. He'll be a great part of the team, I promise."

No. No. He did not just say that. Chuck screams a muffled scream into his palms, and hopes no one hears. He is tearing up, he is. He glances to his right, where he sees an empty toilet paper roll. Nothing to wipe the fear off his face.

Not his hair, nor a sailboat, nor a quilt will get him out of this one.

oh i didnt see this updated!! yay!
two moms thats so cute omg

Art fill because OMG CUTE...

And one more, even though it wasn't requested but it's in the same vein. :,3

TEXAS DOES NOT KNOW alskdjfalskdjfaskljfakdjfd

oh goodness gracious these are so cute! let me love you aaaaah

and tEXAS BABBU

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

PROMPT POST

Chuck/Mike cafe au

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au

OP here

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - ITTY BITTY ART FILL i might write too idk

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - ITTY BITTY ART FILL i might write too idk

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - ITTY BITTY ART FILL i might write too idk

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - fic fill - [1/?]

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - fic fill - [1/?]

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - fic fill - [1/?]

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - fic fill - [1/?]

op

Re: op

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - fic fill - [1/?]

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - fic fill - [2/?]

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au - fic fill - [2/?]

Re: Chuck/Mike cafe au

Fill: Julie/Texas Cafe AU

Re: Fill: Julie/Texas Cafe AU

op