#female waxing

[small-sinclair]

His Sun

Bo Sinclair x pregnant!reader

******************

“Co’ere,” Bo says softly, his hand reaching out to you. There’s a gleam in his eye, something new to him. “Darlin’ rose, come closer?”

Absorbing the sunlight on your freckle kissed skin, it looked like you were gliding through the rays as if they were water. Though the wooden floors absorbed most of the light, you were still the brightest star in the universe. How did he get so lucky? What star fell from the sky and decided to spend its final light on him? If he could bask in your golden rays, he would die with his heart shimmering like cooper coil.

His hands were calloused as you took his, and he pulled you down for your back against his chest. Subconsciously, his hand reached around your growing bump as if he were protecting it from the dust of his own darkness.

“Six months in and you’re still as pretty as ever,” he drawls, kissing the top of your head. “Sugar, think they hear us talk? Hear your pretty voice an’ me going off?”

He shudders silently as your hand slipped over his. “I would like to think they do,” you answered, rubbing your thumb over his knuckle. “You nervous about the doctor’s appointment tomorrow?”

Huffing a breath, he buried his face between the corner of your jaw. He nods slowly as his other hand wrapped around your chest, squeezing you slightly. “They said twins, doll,” concern laced his words, “what if they’re not…if they…shit, I can’t think of stand the thought of they’re—“

“They won’t be like you or Vincent,” you reassured, running your other hand through his hair. Your fingers brushed the long, jagged scar on the back of his head, and it made him tense up and growl a warning. “Dr. Henrik—“

“What if he’s wrong?” He cuts your words off as he turns his head to look at you, but he stayed on your shoulder. “What if they’re connected? I can’t,” he tried to find his words in a scrambled notebook, “I don’t want my children to go through what Vinny an’ I did. I don’t wanna see’em get bullied for a scar or anything.”

You shifted slightly in his arms to see him better, and you lifted his face up. “Beauregard, listen,” you thumbed the scar on his chin. It was so old that it was nearly a foreign thing to his face but the pain still lingered. “Our children will know love and be loved because we love,” your words felt like a heavy yet warm hug to him, and he couldn’t help but believe in your words, “and you are not your parents. We aren’t like them.”

“Mama said—“

“She lied about calling you a monster,” you already knew what he was going to say, “because I see you, Bo. I see you.” Your lips brushed against his before claiming a small kiss. “I mean it when I say it. You’ll do great.”

The weight of the world rolled off his shoulders after your kiss and encouragement. You truly are a wishing star. “Thank you, darlin’,” he said, pulling you back in his to his heart. The uneasy barbed wires that stung his air and heart washed away. “If I keep gettin’ worried, just…just remind me, okay?”

“Okay,” you kisses his cheek then nestled into his warmth. “I love you, Bo.”

He responded with a kiss on the neck and tightening his arms, grunting an acknowledgment. He’ll say it; give him time. That’s all he needs, really: time. Time to grow with you and his sons, time to find out who he’ll be when his children are here, and time to change the scarred past to a better future. You and Jasmine are here, the daughter he has no blood with but he’ll kill anyone for her. Now she won’t be lonely as much as he was before Lester was born.

He felt your weight loosen in his arms and heard soft puffs of air leave your lips. As far as he’s concerned, you are the sun and Jasmine the stars. He? He’s the lucky sky that gets you all to himself.

[regianenascimentooficial]

PART 1: How did every slasher become obsessed with you?

Part 2 Here!

🌹Slashers:

Jason Voorhees / Michael Myers / Pinhead / Vincent and Bo Sinclair / Thomas Hewitt / Bubba Sawyer / Asa Emory.

🌹Warning:

⚠️All headcanons have things that minors cannot read! Read at your own risk!⚠️

🌹🌹GOOD READ! 🌹🌹

🥀On a night of hunting, he would go after you, just as he did with the unfortunate lives that surpassed his patience and path. However, when he got close to the door of your room, he heard you praying for the one you called "the drowned boy" to have peace and find his mother. You cried a lot for the boy. Deep down, he saw that you were different, in his perception, you were someone who didn't see him as a monster and, praying for him, it became clearer. After that scene, he didn't kill you or anything like that, but he watched you until he saw you try to escape the place when you discovered that everyone was dead. A blow to your head and when you woke up, you were with him. With your feet in chains and him hovering over you in curiosity and tenderness. You can't go anywhere now... You're his.

🥀It would be a normal day of killing in Haddonfield, until something broke his routine. In front of his house, there was a jar of sweets, and on top of it a note: "I don't know what you've been through, but you're not a demon to me, Michael. May you find the peace you need. Signed: S/N." He looked at it in confusion. He thought the person was more disturbed than he was, but this triggered him. Congratulations... You're his new obsession. With that, he waited for one day for you to leave something in front of the house and, sure enough, you showed up. Myers analyzed you and took in every detail of you. Two months went by and he kept giving you gifts in secret and you didn't know who they were from. You just thought it was strange and smiled. Michael decided from then on that you were now his and no one else's and whoever came to you would appear on the news as one less person on earth. Michael was just waiting for the right moment to show up to you, and when that happened... You know what would happen.

🥀After you managed to escape from him, you don't know what you just did. You signed your name on Pinhead's dark heart. Even though he had escaped, he had even tried to live his life in the infernal labyrinth, however, nothing made him think that his audacity to face and win would bring you back. Calmly and skillfully, he began to draw up a plan to get you back. Whatever the cost... He might not be one to attack what he wanted head on, but he was strategic. Three years after he escaped, his face still remained in the Infernal Priest's head, he had a plan. A man next to his apartment was seduced by the configuration of the lament and when he opened it, he had an idea and knew that his next door would be taken too... Lying in bed, they felt strange, and when he opened his eyes... He was there... With a victorious smile... You would not escape him now.

🥀After you showed up in town and started praising his waxworks and even defending them from his friends who were making fun of him, he found you intriguing. He analyzed you for a while and waited for the right moment. His curiosity was so great that he began to feel bad for being so obscene, drawing and painting pictures with you in positions that made him delirious. No matter what he did, you wouldn't leave his mind. His new art muse, his perfect sculpture worthy of being among the Greek pantheon. When the time came, he would go with the help of his brother, catch you and lock you up so that no one would praise his great masterpiece anymore.

🥀You were a girl who had no fear and had defied the most insane brother among Vincent. He fell in love with you in a sick way. He would try to convince his brother to kidnap you and have you all to himself. He could kick and punch him, and even shoot him, but he wouldn't give up on you... In the end... You ended up tied to a chair and a gag with him holding your face and saying: "You're going to get used to being mine from now on."

🥀Since the beginning of the hunt, he had liked you. He liked you completely. He wouldn't know what that feeling was, but he never felt alive. All because you praised him when you accidentally took off your leather mask to protect yourself. It's a fact that you did it just to destabilize him and run away, and you succeeded, but the price was high... He couldn't stop thinking about you. So, in the end, you didn't escape, you became his and not only his wife, but the mother of his children.

🥀Bubba didn't know much about life and was shy. But when she was tied to a chair at the dinner table by force, after being captured, she realized that the great man was humiliated by his relatives and so she defended him... Girl... Girl... His young and shy heart was happy to hear that... He managed to break free and escape, however, even under the warning of his relatives, he went after you and managed to catch you. In the arid Texas desert, no one heard your screams... You were now his girlfriend.

🥀He had gone to the vet to see one of his German Shepherds who was feeling unwell, and you were also a patient who was by his side with his sick cat. You started talking to him, saying several things, including that you loved spiders, beetles, museums, art galleries, and especially criminal cases, and that you were fascinated by what the journalists on TV called "The Collector", among other things. When he heard all this, you became his obsession, a rare specimen in his collection. But of course, you wouldn't know that you were talking to the man himself. After six months of watching you, he already had everything in mind, he was strategic... Soon you would be put in the red box and that way, with him, you would stay forever.

© REGIANE NASCIMENTO ©

[confusedfloralandodd]

[playfully-sadistic]

Super cute and innocent first date idea: I tie you up on an altar-like set-up with candles surrounding your naked body decorated with golden chains all over and beautiful nipple clamps - the candles' hot wax slowly dripping down closer to your skin with every passing minute, and you're torn between focusing on the heat around you and the heat between your legs, your hole(s) stuffed full so that every spasm of your muscles pushes it deep into your sweetest spot, all while I recite bible verses and watch your excitement grow by the minute.

[ivyrosie]

Oh I have a fun idea! I’m going to tie you up, bend you over, and put your face on the ground with your bare ass up and on display for me. But that’s not even the best part… I’ll slowly drip wax onto your behind and once I’m satisfied with my design I’ll whip the wax off, making you count every single strike. And DON’T forget to say Thank you.

[thewolffairytaler]

Why Beaugard "Bo" Sinclair in the 2005's House Of Wax works

_____________________________

_____________________________

I had a discussion once with a friend of mine about House Of Wax, and it was all about if we had to choose or were forced to pick one of the Sinclair brothers as partners. I would have picked Lester, whilst my friend decided to pick Vincent. They were surprised at that, because my friend knew how much I like Bo as a character. So when they questioned me about it, I basically answered it in the most hilarious way possible without meaning to.

"Well, yeah. I like how he's written and all that, but I don’t want a thirty year old matress to be my significant other. He's open to everyone, day and night."

And while that might sound too judging or harsh, it means that the writers did him right. They made a villain that dosen’t stick to the old formula of "oh, I'm terrible, because I hate people." Bo might seem like the typical American villain to some, but he's actually deeper than that, not to mention that his backstory has some more originality to it than the most media we have today. I like characters having deepth. He's so depressingly real and daunting that it puts more impact to me than what Vincent does. Some characters in media have these motivations that feel so insubstantial, or not enough that it might just be an anathor bad rip-off slasher film with no real purpose of existing besides bringing in money to the box office. So when I see a character like Bo, I can't help but to like him, I absolutely despise him as a person. But that's because he might as well exist in the real world.

He isn't unique in the way he does things. We see plenty of men in different positions of beauty and power get away with doing terrible things, and the film gives us enough context in comprehending how he does this, without fully knowing at certain times if he actually means it or not. But there's one thing for certain, he's objectively a monster.

However, that dosen’t stop the viewers from liking him, feeling empathy for him, wanting to save him, thinking about being his significant other, wanting to have intimacy with him, and wanting to date him. How come? Why do people want him, want to help him, and why does Vincent of all people help him? Well, like anything in this beautiful, yet unfair and cruel of a world. It's complicated. There are multiple answers to it, but when you think about it, there aren't any clear direct responses.

Maybe Vincent feels guilty over what Bo went through and wanted to help his twin by finishing their mother's dream in a more easier approach. Perhaps Vincent has some hidden animosity, and that’s why he agreed to do it. Or maybe it was both of their ideas. We don't know. Yet we do know that Bo tries to cope with his trauma in an unhealthy manner, hence why he kept the high chair, enjoying being the dominant one overall (having all control over the situations), unleashing his anger in a destructive behaviour, and stealing affection from those who don't want to give it to him.

Bo has clearly been suffering in his upbringing, and since he dosen’t know how to cope, he has this mentality of "if I don't make myself get the things that I want. I will never receive them." Because clearly, his parents taught him that trying to earn it isn’t enough. Behaving good for once isn’t enough to earn their love and attention. It doesn't help that he's naturally attractive and manipulative as well.

I believe that a part of Bo is afraid of opening up, afraid of being vulnerable because that's what got him hurt. So instead of seeking a potential someone who could make him feel everything that he wanted as a child. He takes everything from a person before dumping them or makes them a part of the wax collection. As if some part of him wanted to honour those he decided to "let in." And those women he decided to give his kisses to are his way of either saying sorry or that he likes them. It's really difficult to tell, because at the end of the day, I think it’s all about the context leading up to that. But I think we can all agree that Bo doesn't do this to everyone, he has his preferences. Whether that be beautiful women or how he wants to kill people.

If we take the alternate delted opening as an example, we can tell that Bo definitely dosen’t give everybody the privilege he deems them to get. I mean, he literally grabbed that woman and swung her to the car shield. He didn't even want to play hunt with her. He just wanted to get it over with. As if he saw her as an anathor part of the collection, not worth his attention or his sweetness. But then again, he doesn't mind doing it to people who are rude or do questionable things (I'm looking at you, Carly). So he definitely has expectations, but they have to be good enough for him to want to have you.

So what we can learn from this is that to make a good villain, is that you don't have to make them different, be so evil, complex, or have a big motivation unless it makes sense. Just making them realistic or have a villain that you can understand is enough. The other way works too, you can have a villain where you don't understand their character, however, that kind of villain is much harder to execute if you can't deliver it perfectly. One villain that did manage to do this is the Joker from The Dark Knight film.

But back to what I mentioned about the key to having a good villain, you need to convince yourself that they are "the good guy." And also write them in a way where they aren't immediately seen as such, even though that's what they are. Now I ain't saying that Vincent is a terribly written villain, he isn't, he's just a slasher that we have seen before. Except this time, the survivors try to sympasise with him directly, trying to convince him that he's more than what he is. Not to mention that he has his own problems that make him special. And although there's nothing inherently wrong with that, I am getting tired of it. I still love Vincent, though, don't worry.

What do you think? Do you think I brought up some good arguments or not? Did I forget to bring something up? Leave some comments over your thoughts, I'd love to read them and see your perspectives when it comes to opinions.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Door.16 ~ Wax figures in the snow ~

Bo/Vincent/Lester x fem!reader warning : kiss, cuddle, fluff Summary : Wax only melted under heat, which is why all Sinclair sons were happy when the temperatures in the area and especially in the city dropped. But the best thing wasn't the better work on wax, more plans to work out or just the animal hunts slowing down, it was the snow settling down so you could finally have some fun in a town where nothing else was happening. info : I've been neglecting my slasher babies for a long time (sorry about that) and I'll pick them up again sometime. Until then I wish you a lot of fun here and until tomorrow as well as a nice December :) masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where normally there was sun and only a few white picturesque clouds in the sky all year round, now slowly more and more puffy clouds opened up.

Clouds that seemed to be filled with snow because since the morning when the four of them had first looked out of the window of the old family house, it seemed like a shot from a gun waiting for the clouds to give way and for it to finally start snowing.

But instead of waiting for that, the four knew they had a long day of work ahead of them, ,,You're lucky I came with you, the traps are hard enough,” she said as she straightened the rifle on her back as she set each of the traps the youngest of the three had set not only for fun but also to get something to eat.

She didn't have to look behind her to see where Lester was looking so she just shook her head with a grin and picked up the last unfortunately empty trap and tossed it to him, ,,You're the best trap,” he replied, his hand resting on hers as he almost exuberantly pulled her after him to the wagon.

He was cute when he was excited, the smile, the eyes full of life, he was different from his brothers but just as bloodthirsty when he wanted to be.

A bloodthirstiness she saw once more in Bo when she came back with Lester minutes later and he handed her over to his eldest brother with an exaggerated embrace.

,,It's a wonder you can stand the smell,” she heard Bo's comment as he used the garden hose to wash away the last remnants of a run-in and she gave him a warning glare.

She knew the brothers didn't always get along but Bo's jealousy was something that sometimes went too far, ,,It's a wonder I'm putting up with you,” she countered, startled as two arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close.

The brown-haired one nuzzled against her cheek, hot breath in the cold outside, ,,Careful doll, I'm on edge today,” he warned her, feeling the kiss on her cheek that demanded more once they were alone.

Being alone was harder than she thought when she saw the silhouette at the window of the house and broke away from Bo with a sigh, it was difficult to divide the attention of all three of them properly but she always wanted to be there for the quiet Vincent.

The wood creaked under her shoes as she joined him in the workshop, ,,Such a pretty angel,” she said as she looked at his latest statue especially for Christmas, the wings were beautifully crafted and the face as gentle as an angel's. Despite the mask, she could still see that he was looking at her.

Despite the mask she could see the cautious smile he wore on his lips a quick flit and she put her arms around the taller man looking down at her he loved her hugs, it was so comforting and like a distant memory of his mother, Vincent felt safe and most of all loved.

Something all three felt loved, especially by her, as the Sinclair family and she gathered in the heated living room, each taking their place and looking out at the pure white snow that finally appeared, content but especially cuddling with her.

What more could you want as a reward than a nice winter evening together?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[bella-goths-wife]

Kinktober day 7- uniform kink

Bo Sinclair x cop reader

Warnings: uniform kink, sex on the hood of a car, vaginal sex, dirty talk, degradation, small bit of yandere, handcuff use, dub-con vibes

Content: Bo tries to distract you from the truth, by any means possible

It was meant to be routine check of Ambrose to make sure that no kids had vandalised the town or turned it into a crack den.

So they sent you, a small town rookie cop with big dreams, to the lost town. But they failed to mention the Sinclair brothers, specifically the perverted twin who seemed to have a thing for girls in uniforms.

Your police station was ran by an old perverted misogynistic sherif who enforced that female officers must wear a shorts version of your usual police uniform. Making you wear what you would consider quite a slutty uniform.

By the time you reached Ambrose after getting the wrong directions twice, it was dark and you pulled up your cop car on the side of the road.

You didn’t expect to meet the charming devil Bo Sinclair, nor did you expect to be bent over your cop car with him standing behind you with his hips thrusting against yours.

“Such a fuckin’ slut” bo groans out as he bullies his thick cock into your eagerly wet entrance “prancin’ round in this fucking uniform, looking at me like that”

You whine as your cheek rubs against the cold car bonnet. Your hands were bonded together with your handcuffs so no matter how much you pulled, you were at his mercy.

“You look fuckin’ good though baby” bo says through a dark chuckle as his hands grip your hips, forcing you to take his Cock deeper to the point it kissed your cervix pleasurably “like my personal wet dream”

“Fuck, Bo” you moan out as you move your hips against his, desperate for some friction on your neglected clit “please, fuck me harder”

“Got the fuckin’ cops drooling over my cock” he says with a cruel laugh as his hand snakes it’s way around your waste to furiously rub on your throbbing clit with his eager digits

You cry out as your hips thrust back and drool goes down you chin. The feeling of his Cock hitting that special spot inside you that no man had ever reached before was addicting, this man could ask you to be his personal cum dump and you wouldn’t even protest you’d just get to your knees and open your mouth.

“Gonna cum slut?” Bo asks curiously, slightly out of breath as the pleasurable feeling of you wrapped around him almost becomes too much “I can feel your clit twitchin’ like a fuckin’ rabbits nose”

You tighten around him at his words as arousal courses through your entire body. He lets out a growl at your body’s reaction and his hip thrusting increases to what feels like an inhuman pace.

Just as your about to cum, the thrusting knocks the car and knocks the siren to the floor and causing the siren to go off. The lights blinded you and the siren drowned out your pleasurable screams.

Bo took a look at where the two of you connected and saw a milky ring around the base of his Cock. He threw back his head as he moaned before he released inside you. His hot seed filled your womb deliciously before he pulled out and it dripped down your thighs.

“Think I might have to keep you” Bo said with a laugh as he holds your body closer to his.

You fail to hear him over the loud siren, so you just stand there wondering why he hadn’t undone the handcuffs yet.

^bo took this seriously

I know I’m a day behind I’m sorry 😭

[boyfasciitis]

some very ugly portraits i drew in ms paint 175x175 canvas please enjoy

[small-sinclair]

Dada

Bo Sinclair x mother fem!reader

@zaras-really-dreamless... you wanted some "Take me Instead" content, yeah? Well, it's not the next two parts, but I hope it quiches a thirst :3 . A dabble based off my Bo x preg!reader au. I promise I'll make a master list for this au and give it a name I swear--

"Can you say 'Bo'?" You asked in your mother voice, a smile on your face. "Come on, Jazzy, say 'Bo'!"

"Shouldn't encorage to hav' 'er say my name, darlin'," Bo said glancing over his shoulder. "Have 'er say 'mama' or somethin' like that." He started working on the car you and Todd came. "When did ya last get 'is thin' an oil change?"

You shrugged as you bounced Jasmine on your hip, smiling at her happily. "Todd always took care of that." You heard an audible sigh and the hood slamming. "Is it that bad, Bo?"

"Well, ain't gonna lie, darlin', but your car," he thumbed behind him and threw his rag, "is done. Never drive ‘at heep o’ shit again."

You lifted a brow before looking at Jasmine. "Well... that sucks, huh, Jazzy? There goes out escape plan," you joked. "Trapped here forever."

Bo shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I'll have Lester bring the trailer down an' scrap it. Make more money than fixin' it." He placed a hand on his hip and fixed his hat. "Sorry, Mama, but it ain't drivin' no more." His eyes flickered down at Jasmine and watched her bright eyes looking back at him. "She seems lost."

"Jasmine’s just looking around, Bo," you answered, smiling. "She was always a wanderer just like my mother." You gave her an Eskimo kiss and smiled at her giggle. To Bo, it melted his heart. "She's just trying to figure the world out."

He takes a deep breath in and motioned you to follow him out. "Le'me close up an' we c'n get home-"

"Hello?" Your head snapped to the front door and saw young man walk in with two of his friends. "Anyone here?"

Bo gave you a look then led the way to the front of the shop. He puts on a fake smile and says, "Yeah, jus' caught me." He sounded cheerful when he said, "Was gonna close up soon."

"Would it trouble you to replace our spark plugs?" The man asked. "Me and my buddies have the slightest on what to do an--" his face was caught off when his green eyes landed on you. He straightens up and nods his head. "Ma'am," he said.

"Gentlemen," you replied. You stood between him and Bo before turning to look at Bo, saying, "I'll head up to the house and start dinner."

"I won't be long, sugar," Bo said, leaning down to kiss your head. "Promise."

They boys by the door parted and let you pass throw.

******************

Jasmine played on the floor with little horse stuffies while you cooked dinner. Bo dropped hints of cooking pot roast and green beans with potatoes. Besides, he’s been working hard in the shop the past couple of nights along with making sure you and Jasmine are fitting in well.

Ever since you started living freely with the Sinclair Brothers, you were left with the house keeping and cooking job. Thought it's not the best picture of how you wanted to spend your life, but you had the freedom to move around within the house and around the dead town. Though you were watched with careful eyes, the fear you had with them would fade over time. Yes, the murdering and blood shed scares you, but tried their best to keep that away from you and from Jasmine.

Living with the brothers felt like you were living in a strange home. Lester brought you along to the store for baby shopping, and he always stopped after the trip to get your drink order at Starbucks. Vincent was a natural at rocking Jasmine to sleep when you were busy, and he enjoyed feeding her when you were tired or needed to rest. Bo found himself looking over you and her as time went on, and you would wake up to him some times at night with him looking into the crib, his hand holding Jasmine's fingers. When you saw the high chairs and baby photos, you learned why they made sure to keep Jasmine happy, to keep her away from them, to keep loving on her until their hearts give out.

If you were honest with yourself, you wanted to burn Bo’s high chair.

When you asked Lester why it’s there, he shakes his head. “Bo doesn’t know how to heal,” he answered as he nodded to his brother working in the shop. “This is the only way he can.”

Even if he doesn't show it, you knew Bo was in love with Jasmine. Besides seeing him with her at night, you would catch some glances of him holding her on his hip while he shows her the inside of a car, telling her all about the engine of a '68 Dodge. He would call her little star, sunshine, lady bug, sweetheart-- you kept seeing the shine in his eyes when he was around her. Of course, things weren't always calm and sunshine, but he never yelled at her like Todd did. Never once has he called her dumb or stupid.

Maybe you agreeing to stay in this town was good for the three of you.

Humming to the radio by the stove, you started cooking the potatoes when he came home. You glanced over your shoulder to greet him but your face fell once you saw him limping in with his hand holding his thigh.

“What happened?” You asked as you met him in the hall, taking a towel and the first-aid. After being here for two months, you learned that it's best to keep the first-aid within reach.

“Got stabbed,” Bo hissed, breathing through his teeth. “One of ‘em got brave and headed towards the house, too.” He then looks at Jasmine, who still played with her toys. “He was gunnin’ fer ‘at lil’ one.”

“How do you know?”

He bit the corner of his lips. “Just knew. Didn’t lik’ the way he was lookin’ at ya an’ ‘er.” His drawl was heavier than normal. “Should’ve said nothin’, girl, an’ snuck out in the tunnels.”

“I’m sorry.”

Bo grumbles to himself as he lets you tend to his leg. His eyes linger from you towards Jasmine. For a moment, the anger burning in his irises dimmed when Jasmine showed off her stuffed pink horse to him before playing again. Once her gaze was gone, his anger sparked again.

"Never do 'at again, woman," he warned, as he leaned back in the chair. "Men are dangerous 'round children."

"Are you dangerous?" He didn't mean to ask him, but as soon as those words left, he glared at you. "Sorry."

"I'll let it pass just once," he murmurs, "but don' say 'at shit again."

Bo leans back and closes his eyes, taping his fingers on the arm rest. As he felt the pain start to fade, his eyes linger over Jasmine as she plays with her horse. His relaxed his shoulders against the wood and watched her little horse wiggle in the air as of it was flying, grinning slightly at her movements.

"Dinner's almost ready," you say as you came back with water and two pain killers. "Just cooking the potatoes now."

"Yeah?" He asked, lifting a brow. He takes the pills and gulps down the water. "That's awful kind 'o ya."

As you two started talking about dinner, Jasmine sat and watched the both of you with curious eyes. She uses the couch to help her stand, dropping her horse, and pulled herself up. Once she was standing up, she takes shaky steps forward, her mind competly forgettign the horse under her feet. Tripping, she falls down, looks around, and opens her mouth, crying loudly.

Bo jolted as he heard her started to cry. He watched you scoop up your child and kisses her head as you tried to calm her. Her little hands reached out towards Bo, bright eyes burning through tears as she cried out, "Dada!"

It's like time froze and the world stopped spinning. Bo's eyes grew wide as he looked at you and back at Jasmine. "What... what did she just--"

"Dada!” Her little hands reached for him, tearfully crying out, “Bo!”

Just like that, Bo's heart shattered in two million pieces. Her little hands reached for him still as she wiggling in your grasp. With his hands still bloodied, Bo opened his arms and nodded at you, reassuring that it's okay for you to leave him, but you can't... not while he's covered in someone else's blood.

Though the pain was still there, Bo moved quickly from the den to the kitchen. He scrubbed and washed up as best as he could, took off his work uniform shirt and tossed it aside, and dried off as well as he could. He heard the basement door opening and Vincent entering from downstairs.

Before Bo could fill him in, Jasmine cried out, "Bo! Dada!"

Vincent felt his stomach drop as he looked at you and Jasmine. His lone eye looks back at Bo and pointed, eye wide in shock, signing, 'Did she just say your name? Or am I really dehydrated?'

"Ya heard right," Bo breathed. He limps away from Vincent and headed back into the living room. He held out his hands, motioning that he was reader, and you gave her to Bo.

This was his first time holding her since the day he got you away from Todd. Truly holding her close, not like when he has her on his hip while working on a car.

As soon as you place her in his arms, something clicked in his brain. The way she looked at her with tearful eyes and her hands reached for him to hug, Bo’s world rocked. He heldJasmine so close and protectively as he rocked back and forth, hushing her gently. Feeling her again in his arms felt almost right, but he’s not her dad. He’ll be a good enough father, he knows, but…

“You’re okay, star shine,” he whispered as he felt her calming. “Ya just bummed yer knee. Nothin’ to cry about.” He walked away from you as he paced in the other room with the pool table. He nodded at you to take care of the food while he takes care of Jasmine. “Yer okay. You’ll be alright.”

“Dada,” she whines as her little hands gripped his shirt. “Bo.”

How fast can a heart shatter and build up again? Is there a study out there that could answer Bo’s question?

He rested her head against his heart as he took shaky breaths. He’s not ready. He’ll never be ready. “Shh, star shine,” he whispers. “Rest ‘at lil’ head. I’m here. Bo’ll always be here.”

From the kitchen, Vincent started the potatoes and had you watch from the doorway. Were you in love with him, or did you just see him as a father figure? As much as you tried an answer, you couldn’t make since of it yet. Todd was her dad, but any boy can be a dad. Bo was a man; he was a better father than Todd. You just can’t tell him yet.

So, you watched as Bo swayed back and forth with Jasmine in his arms, murmuring a song only for her to hear. Slowly, he leaned against the pool table. His eyes was filled with so much warmth and carefulness when he looked down at Jasmine. You had to admit he knew what he was doing, and Jasmine fell asleep right away in his arms. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. The walls that he built and the lies he believed fell so fast to let her in.

Dada. Bo.

He squeezed his eyes shut as a sigh escaped. He’ll kill a thousand men just to keep Jasmine safe, to keep you happy and well, to keep what lever type of… family? Relationship? What is the best word to say? But he looked down at Jasmine as if she was his own, and a grin formed. Bo will fight off every and any monster that dare comes near his home.

***********

Later that night, you woke to the sound of your bedroom door opening and feet shuffling across the floor. Turning, you found Bo in sleeping pants, shirtless, and holding Jasmine in his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder as he swayed slightly back and forth with his eyes closed. You heard him hum a lullaby low and soft just for her. When his eyes parted, he made eyes contact with you, smiled, and laid her back down ever so slowly and gently.

Bo turned his heels and tucked you back in. “Rest, Mama,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your temple. “It’ll be a long day tomorrow.” Then Bo turned and left the room, closing the door silently.

What a beautiful mess that’s unraveling right in front of you.

[sunflower1experiment]

Can you do idv characters react reader wearing an inappropriate costume? (the revealing and sexy kind)

I got this idea when I saw one of your post about reader having a simp attack when they or she saw Wu Chang costume

I added my own twist to it.

“Woah…” Luchino holds his bride by the hand, you as the bride blush and let him spin you around. “Such a beauty! Our world of relaxation and steam shall be flowing, brimming, glorious.”

You were wearing a comfortable robe like Margaretha with a touch of white and sandals, at some point you and her would be relaxing in the sauna hot tub with pure bliss. Luchino was holding up a glass of wine, then he chuckles when Kevin bows his hat respectfully. “A good fellow you are. Care to join my bride?”

You wave for them to join, noting a couple others following. Ada, Emil, Grace, Michiko, Patrica and even the wheel brothers. They all enjoy the sauna and hot beautiful steam, the nymphs gathering around to exfoliate themselves in the water, meanwhile you rest along Luchino’s chest.

A nice way to relax and pertain a comfortable environment, soon you would enjoy a meal with the girls. Warning everyone to avoid indulging on account to not wanting them to pass out, else it’d be unhealthy. Luchino advises otherwise depending on how others wished to spend their time in this beautiful place of bliss. Even so, the two of you manage to pertain such a balance of power amongst the survivors and hunters.

Phillipe bows respectfully with his sister, holding your hand to give it a gentle kiss. “Thank you.” He mutters softly, and you nod allowing the allure to flow between everyone.

Margaretha sighs while she lays on her bed comfortably, “This is the life of luxury I seek.”

“Indeed, my husband blesses us with such joy, and bliss…ah, I’ll cherish this moment forevermore..”

Grace traces along Luchino’s hand, adoringly with her soft eyes. Michiko dances with the wheel brothers and Patrica, the two sway and dip before they bow down. Ada and Emil enjoy the warmth while they lay together, Kevin later on holds Patrica to enjoy her company.

It was so easy to forget how this essences was merely what they all desired, an escape from their pasts, all troubled and unforgiving….

So they indulged and enjoyed this the best they could.

[i-heart-slashers]

Bo couldn't believe the sight of their home, and he knew that all this was your handiwork. The lights, tinsel, and ornaments were something his parents hadn't done even when he and his brothers were young'uns.

As he entered the house, he heard the Christmas music and smelt cinnamon as soon as he walked through the door, but mostly, he saw the large, oddly decorated tree with weird bits and bobs on it.

He noticed Lester standing on a step ladder with a grin, placing decorations as Vincent carved some wax Christmas figures, both radiating joy that Bo had never seen from them before.

Then there was you making food in the kitchen, sneaking bits of food to Jonesy, who sat patiently by your feet, barking happily when getting scraps and a head scratch.

They didn't have many Christmases to compare with, but Bo knows (and would only ever begrudgingly admit to) it's the best Christmas they've ever had.

[yael-art-den]

When people draw characters with bushy beards but then clean-shaven on the rest of the body.... put some hair on that thang

[playfully-sadistic]

Body writing, but it's all the fun little bible verses that remind you how much of a depraved, damned sinner you are, and you're tied down to a table that, merely coincidentally of course, quite resembles an altar - and after it's all properly written down on that seductive body of yours (you whore), we'll seal the words with hot wax to really leave an impact on you.

Quite the little ritual it would be, I'm sure. Not much of a lesson for you though - a quick touch between your legs, opening up so easily for anyone pleading access (you slut), would suffice to prove that, wouldn't it?

Some sheep are far beyond saving... So maybe, ravishing you, enabling your sinful ways, would be more of a merciful act in the end (you tempting little devil)?

[swallowtail-ageha]

Also a big reason why i am :/// about the prominent proshipper community is that they will swear up and down that there is NO misogyny in fandom reflected by the way content about male characters dwarfs female character content

[thewolffairytaler]

Our Angelic Sinclair - oneshot | Sinclair brothers x little sister reader

_____________________________

Summary: She was an unplanned baby that wasn't needed in their chaotic family, anathor member that would surely be forgotten or end up becoming anathor ruined individual. Who knows? All Trudy and Victor were keeping her for was to have some kind of balance between her brothers that Lester already failed to do properly. Nonetheless, she's still their child, and they'll do their best to raise her. Even though it means making sure that the demon child dosen’t come anywhere near her.

There was a noticeable sense of exhaustion and anxiety in the air when Trudy eventually had her newborn daughter out of her body in the middle of a peaceful suburban neighbourhood. The warm brightness of the sunlight streaming through their modest home's windows seemed to welcome the new family member. The infant, blissfully oblivious to the outside world, slept soundly while Trudy held her daughter in her arms. Her heart swelled with indifference, Trudy looked down at the small fingers and delicate features that seemed to hold the key to peace and a new beginning.

She did not feel a single ounce of motherhood with her daughter yet, but that wasn't news to her, she didn't feel that same motherly love for the twins or Lester either at first, not that she does now, but she still cared. The most love she could give out ended up with Victor and Vincent, and even then her love for them could turn out to be bitter at times. She loved her boy, and tolerated his face because she had to, however, a part of her wished that Vincent could have turned out to be different. She loved Victor for his intrests and how he would take care of her, nonetheless, sometimes his anger issues could piss her off. Especially since he did things that she couldn’t tolerate at times, but other than those moments, she loved being in his arms when she needed him.

Her mind suddenly drifted to the other twin, the one where her feelings where complicated. Beaurgard...or Bo which he prefers to be called. Where to even begin with her troublesome boy? A little monster that destroys anything he dosen’t like or come across. She doesn't understand why he's so aggressive, but she can understand what her boy wants from her. Yet even then she can't give it to him, because there's only so much Trudy can give before she feels like she dosen’t even want to try no longer. Trudy ain't no liar when it comes to love, she feels disgusted bothering to even do that. So when she tells Bo that she can't love him, it's not because she wants to be cruel, but it's because she believes that nobody could love him. So she makes sure that he knows that, to spare the heartache of him wanting to have something he can never receive.

When it comes to Lester, though, she believes her boy can get that, not that she cares about whatever he does. But because he hasn't done anything noteworthy in her book, yet he seems to be a good lucky person. Trudy dosen’t despise Lester, yet she dosen’t have enough affection to give to him. She will give him pocket money and a few head pats if he did well in school, but other than that, she dosen’t interact much with him. He's just an anathor one of her children. The one that was supposed to be the middle ground child, but instead just became the youngest, until now that is.

As Trudy watched her daughter snuggled around her chest area, she couldn't help but to think if her little girl was going to turn out like her. So far, none of her boys shows any symptoms of being like her, and because her baby was so abnormaly calm and quiet, she wondered if there was something wrong with her daughter too. Because if she was, she wasn't going to hesitate to speak to Victor about it so they can put her up for adoption. They only have so much sanity and patience left, so if a baby girl dosen’t bring harmony in this household. Then she dosen’t deserve to stay in this family, it is harsh, but they didn't want her in the beginning anyways. The only reason as to why they kept her was because Trudy was already so late in her pregnancy, not to mention that their christian beliefs was strongly against abortion, so that's why she came into this world. To be the middle ground that Lester couldn’t be.

Trudy slowly put down the baby to Lester's old crib, as she carefully picked up the blanket to put on the girls stomach. Just staring at her for a long time as her thoughts drifted her further away from reality. Meanwhile, in the living room, Victor gathered their three boys, Vincent, Lester, and Bo, around him. He was a bit annoyed to establish some new ground rules, mainly because he was tired, but if he didn't remind them to ensure that their sister would be safe, then Trudy would nag him about it.

"Listen up, boys," Victor began, his tone firm yet pacific. "Your sister is very small and fragile. We need to take extra care of her. No loud noises, no jumping around when she's sleeping, and definitely no roughhousing." He paused, watching their faces as they absorbed his words. Lester nodded earnestly, while Vincent's brow furrowed under his mask in contemplation, trying to understand the weight of their father's concerns. However, as Victor continued, a cloud of tension hung over the discussion when he mentioned Bo. He leaned closer to his oldest son, his voice low but firm. “As for you Bo, you’re not allowed near the baby. Not ever. Do you understand? You’re not fit to be around her.” The air grew thick with unspoken emotions as Victor’s words could have been interpeted as protectiveness, but nobody could truly tell for sure.

Bo, taken aback by Victor’s words, felt a swell of indignation rise within him. “What do you mean I’m not allowed? That’s not fair!” He shot back, his tone laced with frustration. “I was allowed to be near Lester when he was a baby, and nobody said anything then! Why is it different now? Just because she’s a girl?” His eyes narrowed, reflecting a blend of hurt and defiance. Bo was no stranger to being scrutinized, but the sting of Victor’s words cut deeper than he expected. Victor’s eyes narrowed, his patience fraying as he countered, “This isn’t about gender, Bo! Besides, Lester was different. This is about responsibility and your chaotic behaviour. You think I care what you feel? Not once have you acted right. You’re a danger to her, to all of us!” His voice rose, echoing against the waxy figures frozen in time around them. The shadows flickered, almost as if they were absorbing the weight of the confrontation, the stillness amplifying the underlying chaos of their family dynamics.

Bo's eyes were widend for a second before he stayed silent and he looked down to the floor with his fists being clenched hardly. Bo's eyes were a bit glossy, as if he tried holding back tears that was threatening to spill out. Victor sighed in annoyance as he started walking away to take breather, leaving to the kitchen for a glass of water. Vincent, who stood a couple of steps behind Bo, slowly went up to his brother as he wanted to comfort him. However, the moment his hand went to his right shoulder, Bo shrugged him off, as he started to walk outside, not bothering sparing a glance at his brothers as he slammed the door behind him.

As the evening came by the corner, the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, Trudy felt a sense of foreboding. The soft coos of her baby girl filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt perfect. But then her thoughts drifted again to Bo. The concerns had not stemmed from a lack of love for him, but rather a deep-seated fear that he could disrupt the fragile balance of their lives.

It was a precarious situation, one that required careful handling. Trudy knew that the more they pushed Bo away, the more complicated their relationship would become. Yet, every fiber of her being screamed for caution. She envisioned her daughter growing up in a safe, nurturing environment, far removed from the chaos that Bo often embodied. Anathor scenario of a future where her daughter would grow up knowing her family, all of them—Bo included. Wouldn’t it be a shame to let fear dictate their lives and isolate someone who was, after all, blood? The dichotomy of longing and fear weighed heavily on her heart. Could they really keep their baby safe while maintaining some semblance of familial ties? After all, that's what Trudy always wanted, a perfect normal family. But even then, Trudy never believed she deserved it.

Victor entered the room, breaking her reverie. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, observing the peaceful scene before him. “She looks so pure,” he murmured, his gaze softening. Trudy nodded, she looked more innocent than any other baby she had seen. Perhaps it was because she was a girl, who knows?her daughter reminded her of an angel. But there was a heaviness in her heart that she couldn’t shake. “Do you ever think about Bo?” she asked cautiously, gauging his reaction.

Victor sighed, running a hand through his hair. “When is there a time that I dont? But we have to think about her first. We can’t take any risks.” His tone was resolute, but Trudy could sense the underlying conflict in his words. They were both scared—scared of what Bo could do, scared of their boys, scared of what could happen if they let their guard down.

“Maybe we should try to find a way to include him,” Trudy suggested, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not all the time, but perhaps we can give him a chance. He might surprise us.” Victor’s brow furrowed in thought. It was a bold suggestion, one that could potentially unravel the careful precautions they had put in place. But as he looked at his sleeping daughter, he couldn’t help but consider the possibility. Especially since deep down, he knew he couldn't keep his son away forever.

Days turned into nights, and life in the house continued to unfold. The reminder of the arrival of a newborn sister was not a cause for celebration but rather a burden to be borne. “Your a danger to her, to all of us!” His words echoed, tone sharp and unwavering. Bo, though hurt by the dismissal, tried to obey, spending his days wrestling with feelings of jealousy and confusion. But as the time flew by, he found himself drawn to the nursery, unable to shake the curiosity that bubbled within him. He waited until the house was wrapped in the heavy quiet of night, the rhythmic snores of his parents filtering from their room, a dull lullaby that seemed to dare him to move Each creak of the floorboards under his bare feet felt like a gunshot, a transgression that would surely bring his father's wrath. But the pull towards the nursery was stronger than fear, stronger even than the memory of Victor's harsh treatment. Slowly, carefully, he pushed the door open, the hinges making a tiny, protesting squeal that seemed deafening in the darkness.

Peering through the slightly ajar door, he was struck by a heartwarming sight: his little sister, no more than a few days old, had her little stomach going up and down in her light sleeping, moving around a times to possibly find a good sleeping position. In that moment, Bo felt a rush of intrest and wonder, overwhelming and pure, as he stepped into the room to see the little girl who had made quite the impression on his family. There, nestled amongst soft blankets, was his baby sister. He’d only glimpsed her briefly after his mother had birthed her in the parental bedroom, but this was different. She was no longer a blurry figure, she was real, she was there. He had expected her to be asleep, a quiet bundle, but the sound of his hesitant steps had disturbed her. Her eyes, still cloudy with sleep, blinked open, and she gazed up at him. They were unfocused, yes, but they were looking at him. Her tiny mouth formed a small ‘o’, and her hands, even smaller, were waving in the air as if reaching for him, small hands doing grabby motions, a silent invitation. Bo was frozen, his breath catching in his throat, his fear dissolving like frost in the morning sun. She was so, so small, and she was looking at him, not with anger or annoyance, but with a quiet curiosity that mirrored his own.

When he saw this small, defenceless creature, the ice that had grown around his heart and his fear of his father's censure appeared to momentarily vanish. It was a recognition embedded into the very fabric of their existence, a connection that went completely beyond words. He recognised her as his sister, his family, rather than as an item, something his father had cautioned him against. There were no rules, no worries, no Victor in this moment—just him and this small creature that was grabbing for him with all of her helpless strength. The desire to hold her, to protect her, to be near her, was like a wave that swept away any trace of fear or hesitancy. He had to do it, he had to be closer, he had to be her big brother.

His presence had not gone unnoticed, though Bo was unaware of it. Victor, who took great satisfaction in his attentive care, was already on high alert. Experience had taught him that babies frequently woke up at strange hours, their harsh cries piercing the still night, indicating discomfort, hunger, or simply the need for a reassuring presence. Just as he had obediently checked on Bo as a baby, he had intended to sneak into the nursery and see how his daughter was doing. Something stopped him while his hand was on the door doorknob. A glimmer of motion, a shadow in the nearly pitch-black chamber that wasn't part of the moonlight's shadows. His knuckles turned white as his palm gripped the doorknob and his breath caught. Anger rising like a flame, he looked through the door's slitted opening. Bo was standing above the bassinet, not observing from a distance as he had directed, but rather up close—too close for Victor's comfort and too close.

Victor was a man of firm and immediate action. His first instinct, honed by years of believing that discipline was the only way to correct a child, was to grab Bo, to punish him, to make him understand the gravity of his disobedience. His hand instinctively curled into a fist, ready to strike. But as he was about to launch the door open and storm inside, a memory surfaced, as clear as the moonlit room he was looking into. Trudy's gentle voice, her tired but hopeful eyes as she sat them all down a few days ago, “perhaps we can give him a chance. He might surprise us, Victor. Or maybe he'll ruin her. Either way, he's one stubborn brat.” Her remarks had been written off by Victor as motherly sentimentality, a gentle compassion he had never quite understood and that he had always been too quick to ignore. Instead of seeing it as a strength, he had perceived it as a problem. Trudy's voice, however, was a gentle contrast to his rising rage as he stood outside the room, his fist firmly clenched. He'd agreed to let her have this moment.

He stilled his hand, held back his rage, and watched. He witnessed Bo’s soft, hesitant movements, the gentle way he craned his neck to peer down at his baby sister, and then the way Bo moved to cradle his sister in his arms. He saw the raw, unfiltered tenderness in his son's face, a look of adoration and awe that was so pure it was almost painful to watch. Victor had not expected, nor has he ever seen such a raw emotion from his son. Even with all his years, he had never seen something so genuine and calm. It was a side of Bo, one that he had tried to find at one period, a side of Bo that he had not acknowledged, and was now being laid bare for him to see. It was a revelation, a crack in the walls that he had built around himself, around his family, around his son. Turns out the unplanned life wasn't a mistake after all. She had unintentionally soothed his troublesome demon child. All he had to do now was to make sure she wouldn't become one either.

Author's note: I'm planning on having this as a series if it does end up becoming well received, it all comes down to you guys, because I have had this idea around for a really long time now. Especially since I have been inspired by @loveandmurders' works when it comes to the House of Wax sister au, and I wanted to have my own take of this concept.