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backscratches · 1 year

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'Hey, Sweetheart' part 1

The Sinclair brothers x F!child!reader (platonic)

Warnings: Mentions of death, yelling, plans of killing, Slashers, obsession

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That morning Bo had been woken up by his younger brother, Lester. It had been a call to him about the tourists he saw heading down the road to a campside. One car, couple of people, an easy job.

Bo and Vincent hadn't had tourists in the town in a awhile so the preparations weren't hard. Later that day, at the night exactly. Bo went and blew their tires. He made sure that Lester was ready to escort the couple to the town the next day.

The next day Bo was fixing a car in his garage when a couple walked up to him. They looked like a normal married couple, nothing more to him anyway. But one thing caught his eye. The woman was carrying a baby on her back.

"Hey folks what can I do for yall?" Bo asked trying to be polite. The man told him that they needed couple of tires for their car down the road and that they were in a hurry.

Bo couldn't care less about their plans to see the socker game in the next state or anything else about them. So he directed the woman with her baby up to see the famous Trudy's House Of Wax while he and the husband looked at some tires.

He didn't know what was he hoping to be done with the babe but there was no plans of keeping it either. There had been children passing through the town before but evedently there wasn't any kid wax figures.

After Bo had killed the man with a hit to the head he dragged the body downstairs to the basement of the garage and left to go up to the museum.

Now he knew what he wanted. He wanted Vincent to take care of the problem, that being the baby tourist, so he didn't have to worry about it.

But as he soon found out, Vincent wasn't just as attracted to the idea of getting rid of the little specimen. After he had killed the woman Vincent took the crying baby to his basement.

And that was what Bo had walked in on. Sweaty Vincent holding a crying baby girl in the middle of his work space.

"What the hell are you doing with that thing?" Bo asked loudly bewildered. Vincent only turned for a moment to look at him and then turned immediately back to the now fussing baby in his dry hands.

"Don't ignore me freak what the fuck are you doing with it?" Bo shouted at his twin brother or rather to his back.

"Be Quiet" Vincent whispered in his rough voice. He was observing the baby, holding her Infront of his face but after speaking to Bo he quickly moved the babe to his chest.

Holding the baby in his arms, Vincent began to slowly swing her in hopes of her falling asleep.

"The hell are you planning?" Bo asked angerly but alot quieter now.

The babygirl soon fell into a soft sleep in Vincent's hold.

There was a moment of silence, a moment of Vincent quietly cuddling to the babe, a moment of Bo trying to figure his brother out.

"I want her"

The few words that Vincent could muster with his broken face were enough for to Bo to shutdown.

He didn't want this, he wasn't ready for this and Ambrose sure wasn't a place for this.

Only if he knew how much his brother desperately wanted his own family. But his disformated face had quickly put a brick wall Infront of that dream. That hole he wished so badly to fill, that couldn't be treated even with his lovely good girl dog, Jonesy or a hundred wax figures across the town.

This beautiful baby was the most incredible thing he had ever witness even, his mothers world known wax figures couldn't bare fitness to the feeling this babe brought to him.

And nobody was going to take that away from him. Not even his twin brother.

this is my first fanfic I've ever written so yeah tell me your opinion

I will continue this series for at least a couple of parts

Please like

English isn't my first language tell me of any mistakes

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visceravalentines · 2 months

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a little something I wrote last night instead of going to sleep

sometimes he sleeps in the church.

on the nights when he can't shut off the TV because then he'll have to listen to the house. on the nights when he drinks so hard he can't see straight and he thinks too clearly. on the nights when he runs his fingers through a candle flame and considers sending it all up in smoke.

he makes his way down the hill, blind, blind drunk. the path is so familiar he doesn't think about his footsteps. the door is heavy and it creaks and every time, every single time, he remembers showing up late to mass when he was fourteen. he remembers that door creaking. he remembers his mama turning in her seat. he doesn't bother remembering what came after.

it's dark in there, even on a full moon night. the stained glass windows aren't real. the place is a tomb. the air is thick and stale and smells of decay and the faintest trace of incense, still. he taps his hand on the backrest of each pew as he passes and remembers who used to sit there every sunday. remembers who sits there now. the most faithful congregation in the country.

he doesn't think about god, or his sins. that's not why he's here. and if he's honest--which he's not--he never thinks about them. never has. some things are important to him. god is missing from that list, among other places.

the sinclair family never sat on the front row, but now it's reserved just for them. and now he's the only one who comes. he sinks onto the bench and sits with the sound of his own breathing heavy in his ears. sometimes he stops for a few seconds and holds the rot in his lungs and pretends he's dead like the rest of them. he lets the silence seep into his bones and unclenches his fists. he disappears to a different place, a quiet one, where his brain stops buzzing and his skin fits right.

and she's there, right in front of him. he doesn't need to see her to feel her, to feel the memory of her nails on his skin, to feel the pull of mother to child. to know she knows he's there. he sits in the dark and holds his breath and swings in her gravity with such force it makes him sick.

he misses her hair. he misses her voice. he misses the way she smelled the times she hugged him. he chews his lip and wants things to be different. the wanting never goes away no matter how good of a liar he is. no matter how empty it feels.

he doesn't speak to her, on nights like this. she never cared to listen to him anyway.

he lays down on his back on the pew. it's not comfortable. that's not why he's here. he folds his hands on his chest and feels cold. somewhere in the black above his eyes the ceiling hangs, vaulted and impenetrable. somewhere in the black at his side his mother lies perfect, sleeping. somewhere in the black of time a little boy has a nightmare and no one to console him.

he sleeps there, sometimes, and his sleep is as dreamless as death.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair fanfiction #house of wax #house of wax fanfiction #trudy sinclair

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awoogaslashers · 3 months

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(Credits: me😘)

#slasher memes #meme #slashers #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax 2005 #capcut #my edit #trudy sinclair

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sketchy-rosewitch · 1 year

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I’m about to throw a fit about this shit.

They BOTH kill people Jesus and WHO THE FUCK HAD ALL THE KILLS BECAUSE IT WASNT BO

I’m so sick of everyone thinking Vincent is innocent or what have you. He isn’t, as far as we know he was never manipulated by Bo. I don’t care, headcanon that shit if you want but this was from an article which is what’s frustrating.

Vincent didn’t kill because Bo told him to, he killed people for Trudy’s legacy and for the wax museum. To make art.

Literally everyone takes that damn scene of Bo yelling at Vincent WITH AN ARROW IN HIS CHEST to heart, that he’s manipulative and abusive, yes calling Vincent a freak was low as hell but if my sister didn’t back the hell off of me when I’m in pain I have a feeling I’d be calling her shit she didn’t want to hear too. Then I would feel bad and apologize cause that’s what we do. She’d do the same shit to me we like our space.

Anyway the whole point of the twins arc is that people aren’t always what they seem. Sure there’s a “good and evil twin” in theory but the truth is both can be good or both can be evil. They don’t have to fit into that stereotype of one acts better than the other.

#sprout speaks #sprout rants #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #trudy sinclair

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ahmnom · 1 year

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I think it's really sad how vincent wears his mask at home. Like if Trudy was a good mom she would have just let him embrace his face at home (maybe not in public I can understand that because other people are assholes) but she made her son feel as if he had to wear a mask in his own damn house. Made him feel ugly and used his face as a weapon for control. Bo said that she used to say his art skills make up for what "god took away from him". Who says that to their kid??? Big fuck you to Trudy. Hope Bo and Lester got him to take it off around them a little after she died.

#vincent sinclair house of wax #vincent sinclair headcanon #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #trudy sinclair #trudy house of wax #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher film #slasher movies

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loveandmurders · 1 year

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Jonesy knows II (Sinclair brothers x sister Sinclair!reader)

Hello everyone, this is the second part of this request about Sinclair baby sister who has been separated from her brothers when she was a child, and when she stumbles into Ambrose, Jonesy recognises her.

A part 3 is planned.

Hope you will enjoy this continuation as much as you did with the first part. <3

Warnings: mentions of killings and blood (past and present), mention of reader helping her dad with the dead bodies, a very fucked up family, Bo threatening you to lock you up, a few strong words.

Lester had done his best to distract you from his brothers killing the tourists. No need to say you were terrified, but at the same time, it all felt very familiar. And you couldn’t tell why, but the more you thought about those dead people, and the more you saw them as statues. As wax statues.

Lester had sat you down at the kitchen table and had refilled your glass of lemonade, and put some food in front of you. You didn’t touch anything, as your mind was working very fast. Your family were killers. And that was why your adoptive parents didn’t want you to come back there; they must have heard awful stories about them. You shook your head. It was your imagination and the sunstroke speaking: you didn’t know those people, you didn’t know this dog and you didn’t come from such a horrible family. You hated how the screams coming from the group were reminding you of a medical room. You could almost see the face of a doctor, focused on his “patients”, but without caring about their pain. You didn’t know where it was coming from. And you didn’t want to know.

You jumped when Lester touched your shoulder. You looked up at him as he put his hand away, to not scare you off.

“Sorry” he smiled “Ya okay?” he asked as your silence was so strange to him. As a child, you used to talk all the time and the boys enjoyed it more than they ever had the opportunity to tell you.

“Look, I’ve no idea what’s going on, and I just think I should go. I could really use Bo’s help for my car and then you’ll never see me again. Your dog probably thinks I’m someone else. But I cannot be your sister. It’s just impossible” you told him. Lester had completely lost his smile at your words, and he sat next to you.

“She’s called Jonesy. Ya know why?” he asked you with great seriousness.

You shrugged “Because it means “God is gracious” and her owners were probably happy to get her” you instinctively replied before frowning. It was oddly specific for you to know that. You nibbled on your lips as Lester’s face lit up.

“Ya were little when ya’d been taken away. It’s fine if ya ain’t rememberin’ everythin’. But it’ll come back and we’ll take care of you.” Lester promised

After a little while of silence, Bo and Vincent came back home (covered in more blood than you would like to witness) and they both sat at the kitchen table. Vincent had the same excitement in the eye and Bo seemed a lot more friendly toward you. He was hopeful and full of a joy ready to explode inside his chest. You felt a little bit uncomfortable with all their eyes on you and you leaned against the seat. Jonesy felt you were uneasy so she softly whined at your feet and only calmed down when you started to pet her again. She put her head on your lap and you let out a little smile. She really was adorable, but could she really be your dog? Couldn’t she make a mistake?

“So” Bo started and your attention went back to him. “I’m sorry ya had to witness us murderin’ this group of people. It wasn’t how I pictured greetin’ my baby sister back home. But at least ya know” he said and you didn’t answer. You couldn’t imagine dead people, only wax statues, but you didn’t know why and it was unsettling. It happened sometimes when you were watching horror movies. You often wondered what the killers could do with the dead bodies, and you always thought about wax statues. The boys were a little bit worried with your silence so Bo kept going. “Ya’re probably wonderin’ why we’re doin’ that, right? Well, mama had a big vision and she started this business with our father and…”

“The House of Wax” you whispered to yourself. You remembered having seen those words on a board and it had felt familiar too at that time, but now you knew why. Shit, it couldn’t be true.

“Yes, the House of Wax” Bo truly smiled. The boys trusted Jonesy’s instinct but if you remembered that kind of thing, it could only mean it was really you and it appeased them. “So, we keep goin’ with her work. Vinny is the artist of course” Bo said and you looked up at Vincent who seemed a little bit shy under your eyes. You thought you were losing your mind.

“Why?” you asked

“Why what, love?”

“Why keep doing this? You could have left” you precise and it seemed to surprise your brothers.

“’s what she’d’ve wanted,” Bo replied. It was starting to be obvious he was the big brother and the head of the family because Lester and Vincent were letting him talk.

“Is it why social care took me away?” you continued to ask and the boys were saddened at this memory.

“Yes, some guy saw our father dismemberin’ a body and he called the police. Mom was really sick and she died while our father was in prison. When he came back for her funeral, he lost it and I had to put him out of his misery.” Bo explained and you shivered

“And you didn’t end in prison yourself?” you continued to ask

“No one reported it ‘cause at the same time, the town was gettin’ empty with the business goin’ down. Soon enough, it was just a few of us and Vinny decided it was time for us to carry our legacy” Bo nodded toward his brother who hummed in approval. “I first looked for ya and Lester. Ya both had been taken away ‘cause ya were young. Especially ya. They separated Vinny and I for a little while too, but we were almost adults so they couldn’t do much. I found Lester easily ‘cause he was bein’ a little difficult beast” Bo teased and Lester let out a little chuckle. “But I’ve never been able to find ya” Bo ended with a sad smile

A little voice inside your head thought that it would have been better if it had stayed that way. You weren’t a killer. You never would be. Even if you were carrying a knife on you and were ready to use it. Even if you were dreaming of blood. Even if you were a… a Sinclair. Yes, that was the name.

“What happened to my knee then?” you asked. Your adoptive parents had never wanted to tell you about it and you thought that if those people could tell you the truth, you would remember it.

“It still hurts? Even after all this time?” Bo asked and he came a little bit closer to you, clearly upset that something bad happened to his cherished baby sister. You simply nodded “Well, when the social care came, it was chaos inside the house. Ya fell down the stairs.” he told you and you hated how you could picture it. Your head turned toward the main stairs of the house and you could so clearly see the scene. “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to protect ya like we should have. Ya’re our baby sister and we should’ve found and kept ya safe.” Bo continued. There was so much sincerity in his voice that it almost brought you to tears. But you needed to be rational.

“Ok, but even if all of this is true… I can’t stay here.” you said. The twins’ eyes hardened and Lester bit on his bottom lip.

“Why not?” Bo asked as he leaned into his seat and crossed his arms on his chest.

“You’re killers”

“Ya used to enjoy preparin’ the bodies with father” Bo countered and it made you want to throw up

“I have a life away from here” you continued to argue

“Something that shouldn’t’ve happened” Bo spat

“My adoptive parents will freak out if they don’t hear from me very soon”

“Then ya’ll call them and tell them ya decided to be free from them. They aren’t your family. We are your family.” Bo was getting angry and frustrated now. He didn’t understand how you could care about those people, when you were finally back home.

“You aren’t going to let me go, right?” you asked

“Never ever again”

“So what, you’re going to lock me up in here?” you worried

“If we have to, yes”

You stared at Bo before closing your eyes and letting your head go against the seat. You were so fucked. You silently cursed your adoptive brother for having sent you in the south of the country. But what were the odds for you to get lost and end back to Ambrose? It did feel like fate but it was quite scary too. Especially when your brothers were insane killers who were ready to make you their prisoner if it meant keeping you home.

You were surprised by how silent the boys got and when you cracked an eye open, you saw Vincent quickly sign to Bo who wasn’t too happy. Lester was nodding at what Vincent was saying. So you were right, Vincent was mute. You wished you knew what he was saying. He stopped when he noticed your attention was on him.

“What did he say?” you asked Bo, who didn’t answer you so you looked back at Lester. You felt like he wouldn’t lie to you.

“That… we need to be… smarter and to make ya want to stay, and not force ya, or ya’ll try to run away” Lester said and you hummed in thought.

“So what are you gonna do?” you asked “the most effective way or the smart way?” you continued. The twins exchanged a look and it was as if they were debating through their mind. You sighed and got up, knowing you were going to end up locked up. You were feeling absolutely exhausted. You were half hoping that if you went to sleep now, when you would wake up, you wouldn’t be at Ambrose anymore. If only it was just a very vivid and strange dream.

“Where are ya goin’?” Bo asked you, clearly on edge

“Napping. I drove for hours, walked under the sun, and then all of this happened.” you gestured toward the boys. “I still have a room in there?” you asked

“Of course” Bo said as he got up as well “I’ll show ya” he offered but you shook your head.

“It’s fine. I’ll find it” you replied and you left the kitchen. Bo wanted to go after you but Vincent grabbed his wrist. As you left the kitchen, you heard Jonesy whine, so you went back. “What are you doing, girl? Not following me to bed?” you asked and Jonesy, who had been waiting for an invitation, instantly ran to follow you. You couldn’t deny that she truly was your dog.

More memories rushed to you as you climbed the stairs and you found your room right away. You collapsed on your bed and fell asleep almost instantly. You also had a lot of dreams about your parents and your childhood. When you woke up, it was the darkest of night outside, apart from the stars. They were so beautiful and you watched them with Jonesy for a little while.

“I don’t know what to do, baby” you whispered to Jonesy and she gently barked at you, to tell you that now you needed to stay home and to love your family like you used to.

No matter how scary the situation was, no matter how possessive and insane Bo sounded, no matter how Vincent’s silence held no good, no matter how Lester would do anything to keep you around, you didn’t feel in danger, but you needed time.

“Ya know what, baby? We’ll leave together. Yes, we’ll run away tonight and have the holidays I had planned. And then we’ll come back and we’ll decide what to do… Or maybe we’ll never come back” Jonesy seemed to agree with that plan, even if she hoped you both would come back to your brothers because she had seen how loved you had been in this household.

And how you would always be loved.

PART III

Taglist :

@feathery-ass

@g0thl3zz

@erasable-mustache

@cavern-creature

@peachycupotea

@p0rn-stargirl

@akemiixx01

@zebralover

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incorrectsinclairbrothersquotes · 2 years

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Vincent: Why is Lester in the bathroom crying?

Trudy: He's drunk

Vincent: And?

Bo: And he heard that Y/N is married

Vincent; But... he's married to Y/N.

Trudy: Yeah, we know that

#incorrect sinclair brothers quotes #incorrect house of wax quotes #bo sinclair #house of wax #sinclair brothers #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #trudy sinclair #source: brooklyn 99 #Lester just loves y/n very much ok

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dustylava · 2 years

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Mother's spirit: "and yet, I can't understand, how you were able to marry my eldest? He's inadequate, - Trudy threw up her hands. - He's aggressive and grumpy."

Y/n: "he's just little old - you cooed, - and very tired."

The Bo's work boot, from which you, not very gracefully, but managed to dodge, flew through the face of the Mother's spirit.

#house of wax #bo sinclair #bo #trudy sinclair #dilf bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #dilf x reader #horror movies #slasher movies #slashers #movie #тупые шутки как смысл жизни

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adalwolfgang · 10 months

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What shall I tell my ma...

Chapter 1

Teen!Beaugard (Bo) Sinclair x Teen!Fem!reader

Summary: You met Beaugard Sinclair back in 1989 when Ambrose was still heavily settled with people. This is how it yalls story started.

A/N for future chapters: Bo is 17 and you're 16 and the story takes place in 1989, back then if you told a kid to go left, they'd go right. I asked my ma who was born in 1974 in a rural town questions before writing this and all I got to say is, back then things were very different. Kids underage did things they shouldn't have been doing but did it anyway. That being said I don't condone kids under the age of 18 doing anything that's mentioned below or in future chapters. This is fictional, not real life. I also plan to make this a series if people ask for it enough.

Warnings: 1989, Victor and Trudy Sinclair, Bo being Bo, Small harassment, Characters might be a little ooc.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner(s)!

You step over the small grate as you make your way to the front door of the gas station. A canister held firmly in your hand. Your fathers truck ran out of gas, so he sent you into town with $10 to fetch some for him. In return, he'd given you 5 more dollars to buy a treat for yourself at the gas station. It wasn't uncommon for kids your age to be running errands like this for your parents or anyone for that matter.

The door chimed as you entered. Led Zeppelin meets your ears as you spot a radio resting on the counter. You walk around a bit, looking over the selection of drinks and snacks. As you do, a brunette around your age it seemed, walked out of the back room holding a dirty rag. When it spots you, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"How can ah help ya little lady?" He wipes his hands clean with the rag before tossing it over his shoulder and going behind the counter. His eyes never leaving yours.

You raise the canister a little in your hand, "In need of some gas. Whatever $10 will get me." You place the canister on the counter, along with a drink you picked up from the cooler. "I'd also like to buy this please."

"We got plenty uh fuel, no problem'." He took the canister off the counter and walked to the back. After a couple minutes, he came back, setting the now full canister on the counter. As he rings up your drink, he try's making small talk. "Are ya headin' sumwhere in particular or yer uh local?"

"I live just outside of Ambrose, just never really had a reason to stop by here until now," You explain to the young man as you watch him ring you up. You give him a puzzled look when all he charges you for is the drink.

"I see." That wasn't interesting at all he thought. When he notices your confusion, his smirk grows bigger. "On thuh house since yer uh new face." His eyes wander over your figure before looking back up at your face. "Yer uh purdy little thang though," he looks you up and down once more, clicking his tongue in thought. "Ya got anybody waitin' for ya back home?" he asked with a teasing grin.

You bite the inside of your cheek, your grip tightening on the handle of the canister. "Just my parents. I best get back before my dad runs me a new one for wasting time," You explain as you give a polite smile. His face falls a little in disappointment before perking back up as if his demeanor hadn't changed.

"How often do ya thank you'll come back here again? Sure ya can't stay uh bit? It gets quite borin' here alone..." He leans his elbow on the counter, resting his chin in his hand. His eyes traveling up your body, lingering for a moment on the curve of your hip. He smirked teasingly, "Ah promise, you'd enjoy yerself."

You give a nervous laugh nodding your head to him before muttering a small goodbye and retreating out of the station with the canister and your drink held firmly in your hands. Bo watches your retreating form, smiling and shaking his head to himself as he lets out a small sigh. His eyes spot a couple of bills laying under a notepad, this causes him to smile softly at the cash. "Touché darlin'...."

A few days go by as you carry on with life. The small interaction at the gas station long forgotten. You walk down the street of Ambrose, a small list of errands your mother had tasked you to do for the day. As you read over the list, you hear someone call out, "Hey!" You look around for the voice, quickly spotting the guy from the gas station a few days prior sitting in an old Chevy k-30. He hops out of the truck and start jogging over to you. "Where ya goin', purdy girl?" He walked right infront of you, blocking your path.

Your faces show a little of puzzlement and amusement. You ignore his question, instead asking one of your own. "Aren't you that mechanic at the station?"

"The mechanic, yeah. Bo Sinclair." He nodded with a grin, his eyes moving up and down your body before they meet yours again. "...And you?" He asked, casually wrapping an arm around your waist. "Purdy girl like you gotta' hav' uh name." He asked playfully.

Your face heats up a little from the bold gesture, a nervous smile appearing on your face. "Why do you want to know my name?"

"Cuz ah just wanna make sure ah git' yer name right when I'm introducin' ya to mah ma as mah new girlfriend!" Bo said, that teasing smirk back on his face, he was clearly not backing down. "So? Whut shall ah tell mah ma when ya come back home with may fer dinner?" He said, the playful tone in his voice clear.

"Mhm....well, as interesting as it would be meeting your ma, I have errands to do, so I'll have to politely decline. But I'll generous with telling you my name since you gave me yours. It's (Name)." You explain as you move away from his grasp, making sure your list wasn't crumbled. You start walking again, leaving Bo to talk to himself for a second.

"Name," Bo said, tasting how it rolled off his tongue. "I like thet." He had a grin on his face, the sound of your name on his tongue felt oddly charming to him. "Ah promise mah ma ain't scary," he cuts himself off before adding "atleast not tuh guest's." He comes back to reality when he notices you walking away. He lets out a short huff in annoyance before calling out to you, "The more ya reject uh man, the more he wants ya!" Bo shouted, as if it was the truth, a smug grin plastered on his face. "It's gist the way it iz!" He shouted, shrugging before he continued with a teasing tone. "But ya gist keep playin' chur little game girl! Eventchly you'll give into me!" He shouted one final time before you turned a corner, a smirk still plastered on his face. "I know it..."

Tags: @ninakuli

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kasiawo · 9 months

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I love your tattoo au idea!

So, do you have a map/references of Lester’s tattoos? What’s his first tattoo and piercing? For his shoulder, I would imagine he was raccoon paw prints, or Jonesy’s paw over his heart.

What about Bo? What are his tattoos? I imagine him with a “family tree” on his back with his parents and his siblings names, leaving empty spots if they get married and have kids.

Does Vincent have a twin tattoo with Bo? What would it be? I imagine him with Vincent von Gohu’s ‘Stary Night’ on his shoulder, or has Greek Mythology tattoos (because he made some figures of them in the movie).

Thank you for the answer and have a good day! I really love the au idea and it makes me wanna write it!

Thank you!!! sketchy-rosewitch made a text post about a Tattoo Au with House of Wax so it got stuck in my head and I wanted to draw something related to that. (Also sorry for the cut off tattoos here, I only drew what was visible for the most part lol)

I basically worked on Lester's tattoos organically, thinking what his brothers as amateur tattoo artists would practice with before starting their careers and went from there lmfao, especially the tattoo under the barbed wire on his neck, i wanted to imply he has some cheesy 90's tribal there lmfao. But I do love the idea of the paw prints because he 100% would have them. The pinup is sort of a parody of Paris Hilton from her final scene in the film as an american pinup. The cherry skulls are supposed to represent Bo and Vincent too.

For Bo my main idea was like, him being the one to "carry the legacy of the family name on" so a big "Sinclair" tattoo on his chest made sense to me. I also liked the idea that maybe Trudy had done his first tattoos on his arms and I wanted him to have a complex relationship with her so he decided to blackout the tattoos she'd done on his arms as a sort of "fresh slate" for himself. The family tree idea for his back is hurting my heart and I love that omggggggg

Vincent should 100% have twin tattoos with Bo! Both probably arguing over how big or intricate they should be or if they should be matching. And I totally agree that he'd have some very fancy artsy tattoos that he did and Bo finished up what he couldn't reach. I think he would be the only colour tattoo artist as well, which Bo feels a little jealous as his style would probably be mostly black and grey.

Honestly ty for this ask! And if you do want to write about tattoo au stuff please send me a link, I would love to read it!!!!

#house of wax #tattoo au #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #trudy sinclair #ask

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