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small-sinclair · 1 year

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Where the Crawdads and Lilies Dance

Hey, y'all!

This based off the wonderful @bluecoolr's comic.

Also, a gift for @lovely-cryptid and @sketchy-rosewitch (love y'alls writing!)

Has: Angst, fluffy ending, mention of past memories, fires, burning wax, hot steam, some strong words

Enjoy!

Cabin isn't far from Ambrose, so Lester could see the black smoke like crows over roadkill, singing their songs of hunger and lust. Lester remembered whistling for Jonsey when he started the truck and gunned it towards town. His heart wouldn't stop beating as fat tears fell from his eyes. He lost his brothers before from foster care for 13 years; he'll be damned if he lost them to a fire. His heart started to break when he saw the black smoke from the House of Wax, something his mother built as a temple to wax and false art, but his heart fell farther when he saw Bo's truck outside the building. He flew out of the truck and started towards the burning wax.

Men don't cry, boy, his father's voice rang. Men don't cry.

He heard a woman scream, the same girl from earlier, and a new guy trying to get out. But he could give two shits about them. They could burn and die for all he cared! His wild eyes passed over them and saw something that broke him farther. The floor was gone as yellow wax flooded below. He looked up at the ceiling, doing the math quickly. Three minutes until this place becomes--

"Bo!" Lester's voice cracks as he shouts his name. "Vincent! Where are you?" He looked around and found a safe place to slide down. Jonesy followed, her nose sniffing as they both went down. Their brown eyes scanned the burning room as Lester started digging at the soft wax. The heat started getting to his head as the thought of losing his brothers to this filled his lungs with tar and iron. This is no place for anyone to die. This isn't the place were his hopes of being with his brothers forever die and burns away. This isn't the place! It can't be! Just when things were starting to get back to normal and-and... and he didn't have to be alone anymore.

"Start digging, girl!" He commands frantically. "Le' find 'em!" He didn't care about how badly his hands burned or if his knees were going to swell; he wanted his brothers. He wanted Bo to make fun of him again. He wanted Vincent to roll his eye at his terrible jokes.He wanted to drink beers and get drunk with them. He wanted to laugh and smile and joke and... and... "Bo! Vincent!" He screamed standing to move through the burning wax at his ankles. "Please! I still need ya! Where are ya!?"

Just then, Jonesy barked, alerting him to move in time as a waterfall of hot wax and melted flesh washed down. He covered his face as burning liquids splashed his arms, earning a wince. He took a staggered breath at this new hell pit, his eyes scanning over flames and pools of wax. He finds a different spot and starts digging again.

"Keep digging, Jonesy! They have to be here!" Lester didn't mean to sound like a hurt child. Men don't cry. Men don't cry. Men. Don't. Cry. "Ya know, this'd go a lot faster if you gave me a hand!" His mind was going on and on about how he left Bo a night ago in a heated mood. How his older brother wished Lester was never born and how he should've left him for dead in Kansas. How Vincent tried to tell Lester Bo didn't mean it. How it wasn't his fault. How it's-- "Bo! Vinny!" He whined like a child. "Where are ya!? Please!"

Metal from the roof feel close to him, splashing hot wax over his arms again, but he didn't wince away. He had to find his brothers. He has to find them! He didn't want to lose his brothers on his birthday. He couldn't! Jonesy lifted her nose, sniffing the burnt air. Then she caught the smell of spice and ceder. She turned back to Lester and barked twice, making his eyes snap up.

He couldn't help but let out a relief smile and laugh. "Hey!" His face hurt as he smiled too wide. "Jonesy, look!" His heels dug in the soft wax as he scrambled to his feet. "There they are!"

The twins looked as if they never left each other. Bo laying his face to the side, eye swollen and blacken, and his hands out in front as if he was reaching for someone. Vincent behind him as he held onto Bo's shirt. his face connecting to the faded scar on the back of Bo's head. Lester was so glad to see Vincent stir as his eye parted.

Slowly, he lifted himself up from Bo's back, holding his stomach. Everything he's worked for, all the time consumed in wax and art, gone to waste in a snap. He could feel his mother's disappointing eyes looking at him within the flames. His fault. How could he be so careless of his mother's legacy?

"Vincent!" His lone eye snapped up to find his little brother running over to them, wax rising over his calves. "Wake Bo! Wake 'im--!"

Jonesy barked, her head looking up as she ran. Lester's eyes glanced up and went wide. He didn't have time to move as hot wax poured on hos left shoulder. He's felt pain before, but not like this. He staggered forward, hand over his shoulder as he let out a painful scream, and it was enough to make Bo jolt awake. He was slow to rise, his face burning in pain and hurts to lift. His head was pounding as he looked down at the yellow and orange wax, seeing his mother reflection in the river below. Her eyes harden and was angry at him. Bo closed his eyes as he tried to pull himself up to the stand, but he's too weak to stand on his own. He's letting his brothers down, his mother down--

"We gotta get out of here!" Lester looked around the wax pit as more pieces fell next to them. "Drain. Where's the drain?" He asked Vincent, pausing to seeing bright red leaking from his shirt. He swallowed hard, snapping his fingers. "Vincent!" Even his words startled Bo. "Where's the drain?"

Pushing himself up, Vincent held his stomach and pointed forwards towards a hall. Lester followed his finger and saw a tunnel leading towards the church. He gathered himself and went towards Bo. Wincing, he lifted his older brother up--

Vincent pushed them forward as the ceiling above started falling down like butter on a hot plate. He grunted as melted wax burned the back of his shoulder, but the feeling left as he helped carry Bo towards the tunnel. The blazing hot walls and pipes were about to burst as waves of wax built up faster, wax burning their legs as they moved towards the tunnel's hill, lead just upwards. There's still wax, but it wouldn't be as bad as the basement's pool.

"Bo! Mov' yer ass!" Lester snapped as he felt heat raising behind him. "Come on! Move!"

Bo dug his heels into the dirt tunnel and burnt wax. His body wanted to stop moving, to stop going all together--

"I still need ya!" Lester cried, not meaning for tears to fall. "I stills ne' ya, Beauergard!"

That was enough to move his legs to run with his brothers. He lifted his head to see Vincent leading the way towards the ladder to the church's floor, and he just taste the outside. Bo could see something like a new start to a summer's day, a new look at something his mama never promised. He didn't realize how heavy the chains of Ambrose had on him until he was running away from the hot wax and mixed flash and bones. He didn't realize how easier it was to breathe as he made it to the bottom of the ladder leading up to the church, how he pushed his twin up first to take Jonesy out of there. The sweetness of being free was right at his fingers, and he only had to thank his baby brother--

"Bo!" Lester pushed his brother up the ladder as a pipe hissed and shot open. Metal and brass flew like a bullet, hitting Lester's fast like a plastic bag on a windy day. Metal grazed his cheek, cutting his wrist, and the pipe shot right pass where Bo was standing. If his brother didn't move him fast enough... no, don't think that. Lester let out a gut twisting scream as steam splashed his face, pushing backwards, tripping on his feet to fall in burning wax.

Bo watched in horror as his brother's back arched as his screams rang throughout the tunnel, cutting him deep than any leather strap and duck tape. The look in Lester's eyes when they locked with his was a mixture of fear, and that twisted his gut like a knife to the chest.

"Les!" Bo jumped down from the ladder steps and bent down. Picking up his crying brother, his threw him over his shoulder and went up the ladder with his injured arm. "Vince! Grab 'em!" He breathed hurriedly. "C'n't hold him longer."

Wincing, he pulled his baby brother up to the floor of the church then helped Bo out of the hole. The knife in his stomach burned and tore at his skin, but it all slipped away as Bo's shaking hands pulled his him into a tight hug, breathing heavily against his clothing. The sudden hug made Vincent freeze for a moment before his arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him tightly. The morning sun poured into the church like a waterfall over a cliff, sudden and beautiful all at once.

Bo didn't have time to apologize to his twin when he heard Lester's sobs and hitched breaths on the floor next to them. Vincent looked down at their little brother then back at Bo. Nodding, they pulled Lester up, and both were sick. The left side of his face was burned lightly and bleeding. His shoulder now glued to the fabric of the wax covered jacket from earlier. Blisters and cuts from wax and metal scarred his body as if he was cracking at the seams. His fingers burned and red, blood dripping from raw, soft wax. Fat tears ran down his face like an uncontrollable rain cloud. The mixture of pain and happiness was hard to tell apart.

Taking deep, heaving breaths, Lester lifted himself and wrapped his arms around his brothers, hugging them as tight as he could. He cried in their shoulders, sobbing their names like he did when he first drowned in the Mississippi that one time. His brothers saved him from a watery grave, and he's thankful for that every day.

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

It was slow and hard to stand up, but it was a team effort as they moved from the church floor, standing up from behind the alter. The wax figures siting forever in prayer with their heads down didn't seem to care for them as they limped off down. Bo and Lester carried their brother by his arms down the alters steps. Bo leaned against his mother's coffin, wincing at the pain in his head. Goodness, it'll take four or five beers to numb this pain. Either way, he was with his brothers once more. Lester got them back by jumping head first into the lion den with his eyes closed.

His blue eyes fell over his mother's body and shutters. "Lester, where you parked?"

"There's a car outside," Lester answered instead. "Truck's too far."

Jonesy trouts down the isle and barked at them to follow. The closer they are to freedom and away from this town, the better they'll be. That's the look Jonesy gave that made the brothers step one foot in front of the other. Bo stopped at the door and looked back at his mother in the coffin and the pastor's gaze over the dead.

"'M sorry, Mama," he whispered, swallowing hard. He flinched as the sun hits his eyes, reflecting off her coffin as if she was hitting him. "'M sorry I le' ya down."

Lester bit the inside of his cheek. "Beauergard?" Bo slowly looked at his brother to find sadness in his eyes. Did Lester always look so scared and sad? "Time to go. We can go to my home." With his burned shoulder, he pushed open the door and led the way down the church steps, helping his brothers down with every step. Though his legs felt like jello and his back was too stiff and hard, he tried to keep a strong hold for them. He already broke his father's rule about crying. Men don't cry. "Nice and easy, okay? See? We can use that jeep and get to my cabin. 'S far from here, so no ones will finds us."

It was hard to close the door with his mother laying there, her eyes burning down his soul as they made it to the jeep. He could hear her voice scream at him, calling him a disappointment and monster. He could hear his father calling him a failure and disgrace. He felt the scars on his wrist burn and peal as Lester hot wired the car, starting the engine. Apart of Bo wanted to die in the flooded basement. He wanted to die in the town that cursed his life from the start, and hurt his twin deep than the scar on his face.

The car jerked to life, and they drove away from the smoke and death of the town. Lester didn't want to look back, but the mirrors made him. Then his eyes fell on Vincent, who was staying awake despite the pain from the wound screaming at him to close his eyes, and Jonesy, who was curled on Vincent's lap. Lester looked forward and sighs softly. It doesn't matter that his home was gone; it never was his home to begin with. He's just happy that he gets to be with his brothers again. He has them.

Carefully, he pulls into the back roads and drove off down the gravel, heading to the cabin.

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

"Why?"

The crickets chirped as the day came to an end. The view from the cabin gave them the chance to see the police and firetrucks. It was like this all day from what Bo could tell. All of it was for them and for that bitch that got away. Vincent was resting in Lester's room with Jonesy on his feet, his breathing normal and easy after being sown together. Bo took a show and let Lester tend to his wounds. As for Lester's injuries, Bo helped him ice his back and shoulder. The marks that the steam left will fade in a could of weeks; nothing that'll last forever. As for his back and left shoulder? He'll forever have a hero's mark for saving his brothers.

They sat on the cabin porch, Bo in the rocking chair Lester made, and Lester with in his dark grey boxers, sitting on the steps with a glass of ice water. His back was wrapped in bandages and his shoulder had aloe and crushed mint leaves over the burn. His legs wrapped in frozen peas and corn to heal the burns he suffered saving them. They were in silence for a while, so why break it now?

Lester jerked his head at his brother's soften voice. "Wha' ya mean?" He lifted a brow in confusion.

"Why did ya do 'at?" Bo rocked in the rocking chair as he flicked the fully burned cigarette. "Ya could've died."

"But I didn't."

"Don't be stupid, Lester," Bo said blankly, not raising his voice. The loudness of everything pounded his head. "Don't do that."

Lester looked up from the porch step then back at the town. The fire trucks were pulling out while some police officers stayed. "I still need ya, Bo," he didn't mean to sound so soft. "I stills needs ya."

"Ya could've started over."

"Not withou' ya," Lester shook his head. "We can starts over. Somewhere new, ya know? I'm thinking," his pauses as he takes a sip of water, "I'm thinking Alaska! Somewhere where Vincent doesn't feel judged and can be comfortable alone! He's always wanted ta' ge' away." Then he cracked a grin. "Youes and I's can hunt and fix cars. We c'n own a shop togetha... like ya promised me." He chuckles to himself at the thought. "It don't matt'a where I's starts over as long as 'm with y'all."

Bo took a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Ya still need us?"

"Always needed ya, Bo," Lester answer, looking back. Then a thought crossed his mind. "Do ya need me?"

Bo closed his eyes as he rocked back and forth. The smell of honeydew and the swamp sent him somewhere calmer, somewhere he and his brothers could swim with the crawdads and lilies. Yes, they can go where the crawdads and lilies dance. They can see the world as it really is, forgetting Ambrose and this life. Forever living the lives they promised themselves on the front steps at the foster home. Freedom never tasted so sweet against his teeth and lips.

"Yeah, Les," Bo said softly, opening his eyes to meet his little brother's soft brown puppy eyes. "I still need ya."

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax (2005)#house of wax fanfic #bo sinclair fanfic #vincent sinclair fanfic #lester sinclair fanfic #slasher fanfiction #slasher fandom #house of wax fandom #slasher fanfic #slasher community #house of wax au #where the crawdads and lilies dance

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tomatoluvr69 · 3 months

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Went back to the indie cinemar to pick up my forgotten water bottle but they didn’t open for another hour…oh well lucky for me there’s always trespassing in the old disused trainyard from the halcyon days of domestic industry 👍

#i LOVE IT HEEEREEEEEEE #I feel elated this morning…#just reflecting on how I think I have the perfect sweet spot here of noname city with a thriving youth scene #like I can actually afford to live here (I’ll never buy a house but that’s a problem for later :-/ )#but there’s also such a vibrant scene of like dancing and hippie/grimy earthling activities…#this is all probably just last night’s ketamine and dancing talking but likeeeeeee I love it here!!!!!!#it’s so funny that I was like yeah I’ll move here for six months on a whim and then be on my merry way…#oops!#it’s such a mindset change like I’m starting to feel okay with doing scary commitment activities such as purchasing furniture establishing #continuous brew ferments allowing friendships to deepen and look for long term jobs EEK………#aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh #and there’s like a lot of people here who are starting to feel like a community? and I think they’re catching on to my weirdness and liking #me anyways…#next steps are finding someone willing to lead climb on natural rock faces. and asking some of my DJ friends for how to get started…#journal

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jrueships · 7 months

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Gg is such a loving rook toward his vets and they're so thrown off it bcs they're trying to keep it cool in front of them meanwhile ggs hugging jaren and jumping all over voting for the first time 😭😭 not even winning a game or smthin. he is just so happy 😭

#jaren #taking this super seriously: people died for this.#gg #young and bored: im glad voting didnt take very long so i can go home and watch bluey :]#their energies are so opposite 😭 yet they have to connect #it's like the oldest lgbtq+ sister whos distsnt from her parents and is always out of the house #taking her youngest Very Straight little brother out to get icecream bcs he misses her #and he cant open her door and fart or do a little dance or rap for five minutes in her room randomly since shes always in her car now #ggs squeaky serious voice when trying to talk to his youthful community 😭#sixth graders thinking theyre much more hardened by the cruelties of life than the fifth graders bcs recess got taken away

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sapphicspinningpoleproject · 16 days

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Pussy Palace, Meet Pole

As part of my project, I've been reading up and revisiting a lot of really important queer sex culture and queer night life, as that is where focus with this archival aspects come into focus. Inevitably, this has taken me into bathhouse territory, (see my previous post for some of my first thoughts on that) namely Operation Soap in Toronto. While those specific raids concerned queer men and gay/mlm bathhouses, an extremely similar raid happened less than twenty years later. Given my focus on sapphic community, I immediately wanted to learn more about The Pussy Palace.

Enter the Toronto Women's Bathhouse, "affectionately known among queer women in Toronto as the Pussy Palace" (Gallant & Gillis 2001, 152). Pussies Bite Back: The Story of the Women's Bathhouse Raid details the experiences of queer Torontonians in 2000, amidst the post-raid chaos.

To begin their article, Gallant and Gillis remark on the role of the bathhouse, "Whether or not women attended the Pussy Palace, it existed as an option, as a possibility, as a problem for how women think of themselves as sexual beings." (2001, 153). Within the article, the authors note the inclusive nature of the space as trans men, women and "trans folk" (2001, 155) are welcome clientele. (I was ecstatic to learn this, and therefore even more disappointed in the current state of Goliaths.) Similarly to Goliaths, and bathhouses generally, the Pussy Palace is home to regular rooms, porn rooms, showers, a pool and sauna, etc. The detail that caught my particular eye was the inclusion of exotic dancers and spaces for exotic dancing.

Author Chanelle Gallant wrote about her own perspective in a way that deeply resonated with me; "I lap danced at first bathhouse [...] I walked away [...] newly aware of my femme power." (2001, 156). Exotic dance is not my strong suit, but I recognize the feeling Gallant described. Experimenting with your body, with what feels fun and good and powerful, is especially important as a queer person. The presence of sexuality and/or sensuality really doesn't matter. The point lies in the ability to do so; to exist openly and without shame or fear for ones' body or desire. It's very healing to dance with yourself and as yourself, in my own experience.

That autonomy, created through visibility is what made the Pussy Palace so important. Of course, this is also what made the raid heartbreaking; "The police raid on the Pussy Palace adds another layer to how we think about ourselves as sexual beings-- our public expressions of sexual desire have been witnessed, monitored and documented by the state." (Gallant & Gillis 2001, 154). The voyeuristic threat the authors point to here make me think of what I'm doing, in the immediate sense. Recording myself, my body and displaying my thoughts for the public to see and ingest? My experiences with the online pole community has been lovely across multiple platforms, but I know that is not true for everyone. In striving to create space for myself, and for those like me, I leave a (hypothetically) damning paper trail. And yet, I intend to continue. I love to dance, after all.

Source: Chanelle Gallant and Lorelei Gillis. "Pussies Bite Back: The Story of the Women's Bathhouse Raid" Journal of the Canadian Lesbian and Gay Studies Association Vol. 3 (2001): 152-167. http://torquere.journals.yorku.ca/index.php/torquere/article/download/36620/33268

#pole dance #thinking out loud #bath house #operation soap #Toronto pride #queer community #sapphic #wlw post #fuck the police #what a good article tho

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bantuotaku · 7 months

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Make sure yall get you votes in and help support this Digital Black Queer Ballroom Project…

Build or Destroy By Rashaad Newsome

Repost @rashaadnewsome

—— S/O to everyone who has voted so far. Today is your last day to vote. Please head over to the link in my bio and cast your vote now! S/O to my forever right hand @kevinjzprodigy

CIRCA 2023 THIS IS WHAT WE WANA SEE!

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sevendavisjr · 5 months

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youtube

#seven davis jr #sevendavisjr #sev #classic music company #coflo #indahouseuk #defected records #secret angels records #house dance community #deep house #soulful house #music video #dance music video #Youtube

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declanlikesmusic · 4 months

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Declan's Top 10 Favourite Albums of 2023

Read the full list and everything written on RateYourMusic

#10: Jessie Ware – That! Feels Good!

#9: ծիածանի հիբիսկուս – զգալ կենդանի

#8: Truman Truman – Truman

#7: Macroblank – デスウィッシュ

#6: The Lemon Twigs – Everything Harmony

#5: billy woods & Kenny Segal – Maps

#4: Colin Stetson – When we were that what wept for the sea

#3: Infinity Frequencies – Hologram Person

#2: Paramore – This is Why

#1: 👁‍🗨📲 – 👁点击と👁

or Eyeclick – I Click With My Eye

Thank you all for another decent year's worth of music. I'll see you all in 2024. Read all of my thoughts in detail on RateYourMusic.

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iamlisteningto · 5 months

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Tiga & Hudson Mohawke’s L’Ecstasy

#tiga #hudson mohawke #l'ecstasy #love minus communications #music #electronic #tech house #idm #electronica #techno #house #acid #electro #drum and bass #club #dance #experimental #dnb #bandcamp

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love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward · 1 year

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stargazing is very deeply underrated

#i dont wanna live my life like this i wanna spend it in a forest!!! a sunny one with studded midnight blue-purple skies at night #ahhhh i wanna see the sun shining in rays through the tree leaves!! i wanna hold someone close and kiss their fingers to show affection!#i want a green and gold life!!! with the occasional yellow and orange and pink #instead im drinking cold tea in a house where the air is always a little stuffy and watching tv shows is the highlight of my day #none of us were meant to do this #we live such isolated lives!!!! a small helping hand with someone's bags or banding together to survive in unusual sitautions #like a stuck train in the middle of nowhere #gives us such a sense of community and belonging because that's what we should be doing!!! that feeling shouldn't be as rare as it is!!!#where are the singing and dancing around a fire where's the emotional connection with people that isn't a model romantic or platonic one #ahhhh #like our saviour and queen nora said. i wanna retire to the top of a very tall hill and watch the world through my binoculars

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sanstropfremir · 1 year

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OMGGG the backhanded art comment 💀🤡 I wanted to say thank you sooo much for adding your input because comments like that are the reason why I have the urge to rip my hair out everytime I enter the comment section of an MV/Dance Practice like wdym "it's not dance, it's art" ?? what did you think dance was??? How little do you care about dance then?? You're literally the first person I know to address it which was kind of unexpected but very much needed (Sorry if you can feel the frustration radiating of this ask, but that's how much I despise it)

kljlkjflkjflksda well i did go to a very prestigious art school so i do have the experience to back up my backhandedness. i have to thank @exo-s-victory-lap first bc if they hadn't posted that comment on the birthday dance practice i wouldn't have said anything, bc i never read the comments on any kpop-related videos as i don't need the headache. but you're right it is a thing that very few people talk about, mostly because like i said, there's a mass lack of education around the different types of 'art' beyond painting and sculpture, and what even is 'qualified' to be called art in the first place. to be honest dance gets the most of this pseudo-'complimentary' offensive garbage because the average person in the west just does not interact with dance as an artform like, at all. the most common types of dance at the moment are street dance based/whatever shows up on tiktok and they've become so ubiquitous that people have ceased to see it as a skill and connect it to being worthy of being called 'art'. the convention of what constitutes 'art' in a lot of the general public's eyes is western eurocentric forms that have 'historical' backing, but only those that have been approved by the 'elite' as the ones acceptable. and very very few forms of dance have made that cut, so relatively few people recognize it as such.

#no one is calling pantos art and those things are old as fucking time lol. well not that old. but they are a very old form of anglo theatre #the other thing about street dance is that it was invented by black people! and god forbid anything black people do is artistic!!!!!#as someone who went to an art school where they do high concept contemporary art/the stuff that you see in contemporary galleries/museums:#the whole industry moves like fucking white supremacy and relies on the supression of 'lesser' forms in order to keep the industry running #sometimes there's actual white supremacy. sometimes there isn't. but the structure is exactly the same #there's always artists that say they want to 'deconstruct the white cube space' etc etc etc but very rarely do they actually make an effort #to cross disciplinary boundaries or go into the community/do educational outreach to ACTUALLY deconstruct those spaces #because if they actually did that it would make the entire concept of their practice pointless #the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house!!!!!!!!#n e ways. dont go to art school #text #kpop questions #answers #also there's a bias against kpop in general bc of the branding that's been pushed by western media that it's 'manufactured'#and idols themselves aren't artists bc theyre not 'making the work themselves'#which is a further pushing of the monolith artist narrative #also kr media is super guilty of this too. idols are on a really low rung on the 'artistic' ladder #so a lot of these types of comments from fans come from the desire to 'prove' that idols are worthy of making art #but they end up being insults bc kpoppies are dreadfully offensively and tragically uninformed #jokes on them the whole industry's been making art this whole time! just most of it is bad!

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