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falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
Welcome to the Fallout Kink Meme, Part IV! Please assume the position.
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New Vegas Host Club (1a/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 04:49 am (UTC)(link)Tags (so far): crack, het, crossover (Fallout: New Vegas/Ouran High School Host Club)
Summary: While visiting the New Vegas Host Club, F!Courier breaks a very valuable piece of equipment. Having no way to pay for the cost of repair, she must work as the Host Club's assistant (a.k.a. dog) until her debt is repaid in full. Shenanigans ensue.
A/N: What is this? Idek.... This isn't a high school AU *dodges projectiles* Yes, yes, I know. But I just couldn't make that work without feeling like I was subconsciously stealing some things from “New Vegas High” (another fill on the meme). I think it still works this way though. Some characters maybe a bit OOC b/c I kinda combined their personalities with those of the respective Host Club member, but it's all good, I promise.
*-*-*
“Hey Roxy.”
Courier Six looked at Cass over the edge of the issue of Dean's Electronics she'd been reading. As soon as she saw the grin that the redhead was giving her, her stomach dropped. Roxanna knew that grin, had come to fear it even. It was the same grin that the former caravan owner would give her whenever she was about to ask her to do something either extremely stupid or extremely dangerous -usually a combination of both- that almost always ended with them limping back into the Lucky 38 to a tutting Arcade.
“Shit, don't look at me like that kid,” the older woman laughed as she plunked down next to her.
“What do you want Cass,” the Courier sighed, eyes dropping back down to the magazine.
“Well I was thinking,” she started as she slung an arm around her shoulders, “you do a lot of good. For me, for these asshats we call friends, hell, for this whole goddamn desert!”
“And...” Roxy prompted.
“Annd, well I think it's high time for you to take a load off girl!”
Roxy's back tensed in anticipation of the slap that she knew would be inevitably connecting. “What do you think I'm doing now?” she replied as she resisted the urge to rub her now sore shoulder.
“Being a lame ass,” Cass gave back in a matter-of-fact tone before taking a swig from a dented flask.
The Courier groaned loudly as she rose from her bed. She had this conversation with Cass at least once every other day. What the woman seemed to fail to understand was that Roxanna liked staying in and being a 'lame ass'. Most of her time was spent dodging bullets and fixing other people's problems, which usually led to dodging more bullets. It was a vicious and tiring cycle, one that she was hard pressed to get a break from, though when she did she liked to spend that time quietly and in relative peace. That was not something she could obtain by tramping around various bars and casinos with Cass.
“You're too uptight Rox, just look at ya,” Cass gestured towards the Courier with her flask-hand, a few droplets flying out of the little metal container as she did so, “shoulders all tense and shit, face all scrunched up-”
“I wouldn't be all 'tense and shit' if you didn't insist on slapping me on the back like that,” Six grumbled, rotating her assaulted shoulder until she heard a satisfying pop.
Cass snorted. “God, yer such a wuss. If I hadn't 'ave seen the wounds, I wouldn't believe that you survived two to the face.”
Roxy glared at her before turning on her heel throwing a, “Walking away now,” over her shoulder as she went
Cass hopped off of the bed, quickly stumbling after the Courier. “Don't be such a puss, Rox! You know it's all love.”
She got a glare, but the Courier didn't shrug off the arm that was now slung around her shoulders. “Yeah, yeah...”
“So what do ya say? One night on the town, just one, with me. If you hate it, I'll never get up yer ass about it again.”
Roxanna mulled it over in her head. It was just one night and if it would get Cass off of her back for good... “Fine, I'll go. But I'm bringing reinforcements.”
*-*-*
New Vegas Host Club (1b/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 04:51 am (UTC)(link)“No idea,” Six shrugged, “I would say ask Cass, but she's being all secretive and shit.” She shot a look at the aforementioned woman who just grinned that very unsettling grin.
“Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise,” she sing-songed from the front of the group.
“I don't like surprises,” Arcade groused, “Especially your surprises. They usually end up with me sewing people's faces back together.”
“Oh don't be such a bitch Gannon,” Cass laughed. “Look, we're already here and nobody's face got busted.”
“Here?” Roxy and her companions looked up at the big neon Kings sign, their faces bathed in its light. “What the hell are we doing here?”
“What is here?” Veronica asked, her eyes taking in the large blue guitar and dancers that adorned the building.
“As far as I know it's the Kings', that would be a gang, base” Arcade supplied. “Though I've been in there so I can't say for sure...”
“That's what I thought too,” Roxy commented, hand scratching at her chin. “Why'd ya bring us here? Wait, we're not here to pick a fight with these guys, are we? I keep telling you I'm a lover who just happens to be a fighter out of necessity...”
Arcade narrowed his eyes at the redhead. “No, no, no, no, no. We are not starting anything with the Kings Cassidy,” he said in what they referred to as his 'sassy gay' voice.
“I dunno, could be fun,” Veronica said, eyes gleaming as she patted Fritz through her pocket. Oh how she loved to punch things...
Cass snorted loudly. “Don't get yer panties in a twist blondie, we're not here to fight the Kings or anyone for that matter.”
The scribe made a disappointed sound, hand falling away from the glove. “Then what are we here to do?”
“The easiest way to find out is by going in,” Cass said.
“I'm not going in until I know what we're doing here.” That was Arcade.
“So I don't get to punch anyone?” They all looked a Veronica. “...What?”
The Courier let out a deep sigh, moving around her squabbling friends and reaching for the unremarkable metal door. She was ready to get this, whatever this was, over with. The sooner I get in, the sooner I can get out and go... home? As Roxanna pushed open the door a bright, blinding light accompanied by gust of wind -and where those Broc flowers?- greeted her. “Ouch!” she screeched, pulling a flower out of her eye. “What in the actual fuck?!”
“Welcome!” six distinctly male voices greeted the group with varying degrees of excitement.
“Dime ahlergic ta Bah fwors,” Arcade sniffed, a sneeze emphasizing his statement.
“What the fuck?” Six demanded again.
“It's awesome right?” Cass cackled as she pushed past the stunned Courier into the building.
Just go home Roxanna. Don't even ask. Just. Go. Home. Before she could turn around, a hand grasped her firmly around the wrist and yanked her inside. In a classic display of 'if I suffer, we all suffer,' she in turn grabbed Arcade with more strength than her small frame suggested effectively pulling him and the scribe whom was still linked to him by the arm with her.
The lights softened down to something more suitable for the human eye allowing them all to take in their surroundings. The walls were adorned with posters that reached from ceiling to floor while other miscellaneous swag dotted the various surfaces. It all revolved around some man with beautifully quaffed hair and equally stunning eyes, but Roxanna noticed none of it because before her were six of the most handsome men she'd ever seen in her life.
“Uhhh...” she said brightly.
“Huh,” Arcade huffed.
“Oh hell no,” Veronica scoffed.
“Oh hell yes,” Cass laughed.
New Vegas Host Club (1c/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 04:53 am (UTC)(link)“I think the phrase you're looking for is 'reverse harem',” Arcade supplied helpfully, head starting to clear now that the cursed flowers were no longer being blown in his face.
“Uhhh...” Six said again, blinking dumbly.
“Sir, you insult us,” a man that could only be described as devilishly handsome drawled as he slid from the curved desk which he had been using as a chair, “We're certainly no 'reverse harem.'”
“Then what is this?” Veronica demanded, hand reaching into the large pocket that held Fritz just in case he gave her answer she didn't like.
The man who was apparently the leader of the group, turned his eyes towards her. A lop sided grin graced his face as he practically glided over to her, capturing her free hand in both his. “Why this, little darlin', is the New Vegas Host Club. And I am it's king, The King, but to one as beautiful as yourself, you can just call me Leslie.”
“Right,” Veronica said, yanking her hand away before his lips could make contact. The King's face crumpled, clearly hurt that she resisted his charms. “So Leslie,” she snorted at the name, “you've still haven't told me what this place is and who you people are.”
The King straightened up, mood instantly brightening. “Here we, the Mojave's most handsomest men, entertain the neighboring cities finest-”
“Needless to say, we have way too much time on our hands,” two men -also, surprise!, handsome- in matching black and white buffalo plaid suits said in unison.
“Just think of it as a play ground for the super rich and beautiful,” The King finished.
The words 'super rich' were enough to finally break through the stupor that Six found herself trapped in. “'Super rich?'” she repeated, eyes fixing on Cass as they narrowed into a very intimidating glare, “Cassidy did you spend all of our fuckin' caps on a bunch of-” she stopped short of saying 'male hookers' “-on this?”
“Baby...” Roxanna let out a startled 'eek!' as the King was upon her faster than he should've been given the space that was in between them. He grabbed up her hand in his, bring it up to his lips, “How do you know you're not getting under the 'beautiful' umbrella?”
As he spoke, his breath ghosted over her knuckles, making her mind go blank once again. “Uhhh...”
“Don't worry Miss Yearling, I won't charge you the normal fees like the rest of these degenerates.” Roxy turned her stupefied glace over to the man who'd just spoken. She couldn't see much of his face given the fact that he wore a pair of black sunglasses, something that struck her as odd given the fact that 1.) they were inside and 2.) his skin was so pale that looked like it had never been in contact with the outside world long enough for him ever to require the use of the shades. Short blonde hair topped his tall frame which was covered in ropy muscles that flexed as he scribbled something down on a clipboard with long, elegant fingers.
Roxanna's next 'uhhh' was drowned out by Cass' indignant snort. “Who the hell you callin' a 'degenerate,' Fox?”
“My apologies,” the man now known as Fox said, his voice as cool as ice, “I did not mean to offend your delicate sensibilities,” that was obviously a slight, “ And for the record Cassidy, we're even.”
“Uhhh...”
“Now you don't pay mean ol' Fox any nevermind sugar,” the King said with a chuckle, pulling Six's attention back to him. “As for payment, don't you worry your pretty little head, it's all been taken care of, free of charge. If you're worried about the particulars you should discuss that with the lovely Rose or Mr. Fox, but there are much more interesting things to do here than discuss caps.”
“Uhhh...”
New Vegas Host Club (1d/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 04:54 am (UTC)(link)As the scribe turned to leave, a Hispanic man in a red, First Recon beret bounded over to her, wrapping her into bear hug from behind. “Don't leave yet! You've barely gotten to know us!”
In the same instant she growled “Let. Me. Go!” another, deeper voice calmly said “Manny.”
Before Veronica could ram her weaponized hand into the man's leg she was released. She spun around, hood askew and eyes crazed, ready to punch anybody else stupid enough to put their hands on her. “I swear to God,” she started, eyes darting between each member of the 'Host Club,' “if one more of you freaks lay a hand on me, there isn't going to be enough doctors in the Fort to remove your heads from each others asses.” She glared at them all for a moment longer, making sure her words were crystal, before stomping out of the building.
“Well,” the King said after a beat, “That was... eventful...”
“Uhhh...”
Arcade cleared his throat. “Right, well I should. I should probably go after her. Make sure she doesn't, you know introduce a grabby junkie to Mr. Fritz-”
“Or,” the two men in the plaid suits said together as they sidled up on either side of the doctor, “You could stay here, with us.”
The blush that stained Arcade's skin from his hairline down to his neck was the direct result of the plaid clad men were rubbing his arm while smiling in a way that while it couldn't quite be called lewd, but to call it smirking would also be disingenuous. “Well, I guess I could stay, you know, for awhile...”
“Well alright!” The King finally dropped Roxanna's hand in favor of clapping his together. “Now that that's settled, why don't we let the lady of the hour have the pick of the house,” he said in his odd, yet pleasant accent.
“Uhhh?”
At her confused tone the King chuckled. “Pardon my manner's lovely, they seemed to have escaped me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest before reclaiming her's once more. “I blame you, your beauty drove me to distraction,” he purred before placing another lingering kiss to her knuckles.
“Uhhh,” that one was a bit higher pitched with just a hint of hysteria.
Cass rolled her eyes as she took a pull from her much loved flask. “Can we get this show started, like nowish? I ain't got all night,” she shot.
“Of course, my beautiful blooming Rose. Miss Yearling, if you would be so kind as to choose a host to attend to you for the evening...” She decided to switch it up and go with a confused sounding 'huh?' making the King chuckle again. “Need some help deciding, do we? I can't blame you little mama, this is the finest assortment of gentlemen this side of the Strip. Why don't I help you pick your poison?”
His arm snaked around her waist as he swept her into the center of the room. “Do you prefer the strong, silent type?” he asked as he asked, free hand gesturing towards the sturdily built man who also wore the distinctive red beret and a pair sunglasses (when she retained her wits she was defiantly going to have to find out what was up with all of the people wearing sunglasses not only at night, but indoors). His hands were clasped behind his back as he stood in a loose parade rest. He gave her a tight nod, but no further acknowledgment.
“Or maybe you're one for the sensitive type,” he said as he directed her attention to Manny, the man whom almost became acquainted with Fritz. He gave her a small smile, but still looked shaken by the ordeal.
“The Chairmen seem to already be spoke for,” she looked over at the two men who'd draped themselves all over a very flustered Arcade, “but you don't strike me as the type who'd dig those little mischief makers anyhow.”
“But the cool type,” her eyes instantly shot over to the man with the alluring voice. Mr. Fox didn't bother to look up from the clipboard that he was still writing on, but a smirk that bordered on predatory did pull at his thin lips. “That could work for you...”
“Or maybe,” the King cupped her cheek then, turning her back to face him, “you're into guys like me. The suave, chivalrous type, hmm?”
New Vegas Host Club (1e/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 04:57 am (UTC)(link)“Down boy,” Cass laughed, clapping a hand down on either of their shoulders. “You can't do that to this one Les, you'll short circuit her.” The Courier had come back to herself enough to glare at the woman, and Cass had enough of a buzz going that she didn't give two fucks about said glare. “Roxy here isn't that good with people so how about you set her up the special.”
“'The special?'” King repeated, clearly disappointed.
“Trust me on this one, she's a total gear-head, she'll love it,” she replied.
“Okay... we'll boys,” two men with pomade coated hair appeared from seemingly nowhere, “Please escort Miss Yearling to a private room and get her set up with the special.” The two men nodded before hooking an arm through either of Six's and leading her into the next room.
The voices of her friends and the hosts faded the further they went, but before they were totally out of range she could hear the King's distinctive drawl lament, “It's a damn shame, a pretty little thing like her being into bots...”
'Into bots?' Roxy thought, What does he mean, 'into bots?' Like 'bots' as in robots? Her brows furrowed in confusion. Wait. As in... as in sexbots?! Her mouth fell open at the realization. Oh my fuckin'- I'm going to fuckin' kill Cass.
*-*-*
“Please assume the position.”
Roxanna stared at the sexbot, eyebrow arched. Under different circumstances she would've found this hilarious, but considering the fact that she was the one being propositioned... not so much.
“Fisto is programmed to please.” It vibrated a pincher as if to emphasize this point. That earned a laugh.
“Fisto, eh?” the Courier mused out loud as she leaned in close to the bot, but not close enough to look as if she were trying to 'assume the position.' “What does that stand for?”
The protectron's head light blinked rapidly for a moment, looking for an answer to her question. “Fisto: Fully Integrated Security Technotronic Officer,” it finally replied.
'Officer', right, figured as much from the paint job. Wow, they must've repurposed the hell outta it. Her inner techy came out then, prompting her to lean in closer still. I'd sure like to crack this baby open and get my hands on its hardware...
Fisto seemed to take her interested look as an invitation. Its pincers spun for a second before vibrating again. “I am programmed for your pleasure.”
Roxy leaned back then, nose crinkling. “Somehow I don't think that was always your job buddy.”
Fisto blinked at her some more, clearly confused with the whole situation, and rightly so. He'd probably been at this gig for years now and she could safely assume that none of his... customers... had ever been up for much conversation. “Numbness will subside in several minutes...” The words sounded more like a question than a statement.
“Oooo-kaaay,” she didn't even want to know why they felt the need to program that particular little gem in, nor did she want to find out. “So, Fisto, you're here for my pleasure?” It redoubled its vibrating efforts. “How's about you let me root around in your noggin then? That would bring me maximum pleasure.”
“...Fisto is programmed to please...”
“Awesome!” she laughed, cracking her knuckles. Fisto approached her, pincers still vibrating. “Stop that,” she ordered. The sexbot obeyed. “If you promise to keep those things to yourself, I'll promise to be gentle...”
*-*-*
New Vegas Host Club (1f/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 04:58 am (UTC)(link)I wonder though, would I feel this way had I been brought up in a different environment? He shook the thought off. It didn't do to go around dwelling on things once passed and never to be changed. The answer to that question was immaterial and therefore shouldn't be given any thought. Though I do wonder...
Determined to take a hold of his errant thoughts, he focused his attention back on the clipboard in his hands. After this little stunt, the Club is most defiantly even with Cassidy. Good for us, maybe even more so for her. If I had to deal with her on this issue much longer I'd probably end up killing her. Leslie wouldn't be too happy about that. Not to mention the fact that customers turning up dead would be very bad for business.
Rose of Sharon Cassidy had been kind enough to give them her famous recipe for moonshine in exchange for services rendered. Normally Vulpes wouldn't have brokered such a deal, it was bad for the books and Mars only knew that this place ran through caps faster than non-irritated water, but after months of trying and failing -fatally so in some cases; who knew that mixing xander root and cave fungi in the wrong ratios was deadly?- he decided that he had to have that recipe. And, like everything that he decided that he wanted, he got.
They had started off on two different ends, with him wanting the formula and she refusing to give it up. In the end they both ended up on his side, though he allowed her to think they they'd met half way. He took no pride in the simple deception, it was what he was groomed for. Hell, if he hadn't been able to trick the drunken whore he would've taken up a whip and flogged himself and then he'd have killed her (on principal, of course). But as it stood, neither were necessary (even if the latter option seemed desirable).
At the rate the customers are downing that swill we're going to need more yeast and more fission batteries. Vulpes shook his head in disgust. He wasn't a drinker. In his line of work, or rather his former line of work, it wasn't permitted, nor was any other substance of that design. Chems and alcohol clouded the mind, slowed reaction time, and impaired judgment. None of those were 'luxuries' he couldn't afford himself, and really, he didn't see how anyone could.
“Profligates,” he mumbled with another shake of his head as he unlocked the door to his office. After flicking on the light, he headed over to his desk, placing the clipboard on top of his terminal, before kneeling down underneath the metal desk to access the hidden safe. Nobody, aside from Leslie, knew that the safe was there. Not that anyone would dare steal from them, their respect for the King ran deep and their fear of the Fox deeper still, but he didn't want to lead anyone to temptation. After counting out a set number of caps he closed the device once more and transported the currency into a small draw string bag.
New Vegas Host Club (1g/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 05:00 am (UTC)(link)For his part, the boy straightened up quickly. He flicked the blade close with practiced ease before jogging over to him. “What cha need, Mr. Fox?”
Vulpes studied the boy. Zander Lewis, twenty-four. Surprisingly trustworthy, despite being ex-NCR. Because of former military training he takes orders well. Perfect. He regarded him for a moment more before holding out the bag of caps. “Take this,” he dropped the bag into Zander's waiting hand, “and run down to Mick and Ralph's and get a dozen fission batteries.”
“Any particular reason why we need so many?”
“You don't want to know,” Vulpes replied dryly. “Oh, and while you're there, grab any yeast they have in stock, we're running low.” Zander nodded his understanding before taking to the stairs. Fission batteries, Vulpes mused with a shake of his head. Who'd have ever thought?
Speaking of which, he wondered how Miss Yearling was faring with her battery operated lover. He knew that she was in good hands, or pinchers rather. It was a shame indeed, she was a beauty. All pouty lips and doe eyes and curves. She was one of the few women to have caught his eye during his entire time with the Host Club and he was hoping to get to spend some time with her if only to nip any fantasies of her that would inevitably take root in his subconscious in the bud.
Looks, while important, did not hold the top spot on his list of desirable traits in a female. No, intelligence and personality took presence over all. A woman could be drop dead gorgeous, but if she was vapid, moronic, or -Mars forbid- both Vulpes wanted nothing to do with her. But he had a feeling that Roxanna Yearling was nothing like that, despite the fact that his file on her was (annoyingly) devoid of any details besides that of her physical appearance and recent exploits. Then again, her less that stellar reactions of 'uhhh' and 'huh' would lead one to believe that she wasn't dealing with a full deck. But, he reasoned, she could've just been in shock-
Once again he found himself shaking off a thought. It didn't really matter either way, she was apparently more into robots than people which obviously meant the woman had some issues, or at the very least some kinks and fetishes that didn't sit too well with him. The way she looked at me though... Hell, the way she looked at Leslie even. I just find it hard to believe that she'd prefer cold metal over a warm body. Ahh, but who can ever truly understand the mind of the dissolute?
New Vegas Host Club (1h/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 05:02 am (UTC)(link)BAM! POP! FIZZLE!
The volume of the sounds didn't make his hands grip the clipboard till his knuckles turned whiter than even their usual pale pallor as he did a one-eighty back towards the last room he wanted to be in, nor was it the sounds themselves. No, it was the distinct order in which they proceeded. That bam-pop-fizzle combination was only achieved by blowing up a protectron's head casing.
Though he knew that as gospel truth, Vulpes prayed that something else caused that unique combination. He held no love for the robot -he found the thing to be disgusting and disturbing- but there were people, very wealthy people who held no such issues with it, and were willing to pay a lot of caps to take advantage of its services.
Vulpes entered the room, pushing past the two Kings that stood gaping at the sight before them. And what a sight it was. The fair skinned beauty sat in the middle of the floor with various tools, mechanical parts, and bits of Fisto's head casing scattered all around her. Her face was blackened from the explosion, with little nicks from where the glass and metal had sliced into the delicate skin. As for the rest of the sexbot, it lay in front of her on it's stomach, wires and other important bits hanging out of it's head area.
It was, a word, disastrous.
Vulpes took all of this in with pursed lips. He allowed his gaze to fix itself on Roxanna once more. “Care to explain?” he asked, voice as cool and even as ever as he gestured to the mess and the violated robot.
“I did it for science?” she offered.
Vulpes pinched the bridge of his nose. Profligates.
*-*-*
A/N: I. Regret. Nothing. Nothing.
And thanks to another fill on this meme the King's given name being Leslie is headcanon forever. Also! Blond!Vulpes because he doesn't get enough love imo.
God, long as fuck chapter is long as fuck. Idk where this thing is going, but if I continue with it, it'll be one hell of a ride I assure you lol.
Cast (if you haven't figured out who's who):
F!Courier - Haruhi Fujioka
The King - Tamaki Suoh
Vulpes Inculta - Kyoya Ootori
Boone – Takashi “Mori” Morinozuka
Manny – Mitsukuni “Honey” Haninozuka
Benny - Hikaru Hitachiin (the older twin)
Swank - Kaoru Hitachiin (the younger twin)
Re: New Vegas Host Club (1h/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 10:02 am (UTC)(link)I WILL
DIE
I WILL ACTUALLY
DIE
AND I AM SO SORRY FOR THE CAPSLOCK BUT I REALLY CAN'T HELP IT I AM JUST SO GODDAMN HAPPY
A!A here...
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)Re: New Vegas Host Club (1h/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)I WILL
DIE
I WILL ACTUALLY
DIE
...Wheatley? Is that you? :U
Re: New Vegas Host Club (1h/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 05:41 pm (UTC)(link)A!A here...
(Anonymous) 2012-02-20 04:30 am (UTC)(link)Re: New Vegas Host Club (1h/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-20 03:21 pm (UTC)(link)A!A, this is so good. I cant even make coherent sentences.
A!A here...
(Anonymous) 2012-02-28 03:31 am (UTC)(link)Re: New Vegas Host Club (1h/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-22 03:49 am (UTC)(link)A!A here...
(Anonymous) 2012-02-28 03:32 am (UTC)(link)Re: New Vegas Host Club (1h/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-26 07:52 am (UTC)(link)Re: New Vegas Host Club (1h/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-26 08:46 am (UTC)(link)Still weeping over the fact that Vulpes/Kyouya is happening god my dreams are coming true DON'T GIVE UP ON THIS A!A
A!A here...
(Anonymous) 2012-02-28 03:40 am (UTC)(link)And as soon as I saw this prompt the first character comparison that came into my head- well actually that was Boone as Mori, but after that it was Vulpes as Kyoya. The glasses, the cold somewhat distant attitude, the 'why am I attracted to this d-bag'. It all fits lol...
A!A here...
(Anonymous) 2012-02-28 03:34 am (UTC)(link)The new chapter is up now, it's kinda slow, but it should pick up in the next couple of chapters...
Re: New Vegas Host Club (1b/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-19 09:30 am (UTC)(link)GOD
OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST SWEET CHILD OF MINE
I AM TRYING TO READ BUT THERE ARE LITERALLY TEARS IN MY EYES
NOT OP, BUT JUST
LET ME LOVE YOU DOWN, A!A
LET ME
LOVE YOU DOWN
NOT EVEN HALFWAY DONE SO EXCITED TO READ THIS I CAN'T EVEN TELL YOU