Showing results for "Daniel Cooper" in LGBTQ+

Reed Ellis is absolutely gorgeous but a total newbie to camming, a virtual nobody in my world. I should have just deleted his message request for a steamy on-camera collaboration. Not everyone is cut out to be a camboy. But there's just something about him I couldn't resist. He's timid and inexperienced, quiet and closed off, but his fumbling first times play out scorching hot for the cameras, and our videos together are an instant success. I know I should just ride this out, sit back and watch the money roll in, and then move on.

I cannot stand Bennet Montgomery. His rugged hotness knows no bounds, and his unwavering cheery disposition is maddening. How can someone be that happy all the time? His smile infuriates me. I need to keep my distance from this man and all his Midwest charm. I have my camboy career to focus on, and I can't afford to get attached or bogged down with his nonsense. When Bennet receives devastating news about his mother, his grief consumes him. I don't know what to make of this new sad side of Bennet.

I know most would probably describe me as a little uptight, unwilling to change, set in my ways… The truth is, I just like my life the way it is—simple and predictable. I have everything I need—good friends, family close by, and the automotive business I've built from the ground up. I'm proud of the life I've made in this quiet, small town. Nothing needs to change. At least, that's what I believed up until the day Damon Deveraux, a lively and bold little whirlwind of a man in lip gloss and short shorts, saunters into my life and changes everything.

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. It Came from the Closet features twenty-five original essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer’s Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.