#vampire next door

[lacedinweb22]

Seven Minutes in Heaven ♱☽🦇☾♱

Miguel O'Hara x reader ♱ (A Halloween special) Vampire Next Door (ch.7) prev part nsfw 18+

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

There’s a knock at your door. You fix your hair in the mirror then rush to leave.

There he is,

dressed up as a vampire.

He’s wearing a beautiful vintage, tailored suit. His waves are tamed back. He has a bit of fake blood dripping from his bottom lip to his jaw then down to his neck. He really committed to the part. 

You discussed costume ideas a few days before the party. You came up with the idea of dressing up as gothic style vampires; you’d been watching vampire romances all week, though you left that part out. Miguel was hesitant at first, said it would be too flashy, but after you showed him your pinterest board, and some whining and convincing, he agreed.

You’ve got the look down: a long, black vintage dress, fake blood around your lips, chin, and down your arms, jewelry adorning your collarbones, and fangs you’ve glued onto your canines.

Your dress hugs you in all the right places. Your bust is bursting, practically spilling out of the bodice. It accentuates your curves, tightly hugging your waist and hips. You look and you feel the best you’ve felt in a really long time.

Seeing Miguel like this, at your door, makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild. You never thought he’d see you like this, so grown up, blossomed, and beautiful. And you never thought you’d see him like this. 

Your eyes meet, then part, as they explore each other’s figures. He quickly looks back up, keeping a straight face, like he didn’t just gulp at the sight of your curves.

“This hot vamp look really suits you.”

“Hot?”

He furrows his brows and smiles, exposing his fangs, as he slides a hand over his waves.

“Wait, your fangs… I’m impressed.”

“A vampire needs a good pair of fangs. I’m not an idiot.” 

“I’m learning that…” you mutter looking him up and down.

****

Miguel introduces you to your floor neighbors, in a way that makes you feel like you're his. You look like you belong to each other, but you push those thoughts away. He was kind enough to welcome you and introduce you to his friends. You’re neighbors. Friendly neighbors. 

Your neighbors welcome you, you have multiple small-talk conversations, and most of them ask how you know Miguel. You both say you’re neighbors who’ve just met a few days ago. You’re both liars.

Alicia, the host of the party, calls him out for not attending more of their get-togethers, and he promises he’ll come out more often, as he turns to look at you. 

You all start the night off with one shot of tequila then disperse through her apartment. 

You and Alicia click, as Miguel stands by sipping at a mixed something, listening, and secretly laughing at your tangents. 

After a bit, you both end up alone at the kitchen counter. 

“I think I want to drink a lot tonight. I need it.”

He nods slowly, trying to read your face as he sips his drink. 

“If that’s what you want, okay. I’ll drink with you.” 

He pours you another shot. You cheers then both down it. You wince at the aftertaste, then look up at an unfazed Miguel. 

The music progressively gets louder as the apartment becomes more full. You move to the rhythm, barely dancing, not drunk enough to let him witness it. Miguel smiles, sipping at his drink, leaning against the counter. 

“You know what? You’re like four times my size. You’re going to need to drink four times what I drink to feel anything,” you slur, clinging onto his wrist for balance. 

“Mhmm, okay,” he chuckles, looking down at your hand on his wrist. You’re too tipsy to pull away. His warm skin feels too good, you feel glued to him. He smiles, pouring two more shots into a red cup. 

He drinks, lifting his chin up, his jawline advertised as he swallows the hard liquor. 

“It’s been thirty minutes. I want another.” You slide your shot glass to him.

He grabs the liter of strawberry soda on the counter and starts to pour it into a red cup.

“This should help with the taste.”

He adds a shot into the soda.

“So kind, such a gentleman,” you slur, taking the drink from his hand. 

“Truth or dare!” one of your neighbors yell. Everyone gathers, drunk and stumbling to sit on the floor and on the couch, forming a circle in the living room.

After half of the circle takes their turn, it’s your turn.

“Truth or dare,” Alicia asks you. 

“Dare.”

“I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with Miguel,” she shrugs.

“Seven minutes– Is this fucking high school?” Miguel mutters rolling his eyes.

“Okay, Y/N, sorry. You’re going to have to take another shot.”

You’re fucked up. Another shot is going to destroy you. 

“Shut up, okay? Mierda. Come on, Y/N,” he mutters as he stands up. He reaches both hands down to you, then helps you up. You stumble, as he grabs your hand and leads you to the closet down the hallway.

You both enter the closet; Miguel leaves the door open a crack, allowing the purple light to illuminate the side of his face. The speakers begin to blast music again in the living room. It bleeds into the dark closet. 

You laugh at how drunk you are, and at the situation, then look up at Miguel. His concern is obvious, but it fades a bit when your eyes meet. 

“I was too sober to say it earlier, but you look… divine,” he confesses.

“Wow, that’s… you can’t do that to me. Not now,” you laugh, looking down, shaking your head. You avoid eye contact.

You’ve dreamt about moments like this since university. About being this close to him, about him saying romantic things like this, but you’re drunk, and you don’t believe him. 

“I mean it,” he adds, leaning down to catch your eyes. 

“You look really good too. So handsome,” you breathe out. You cover your eyes. That took a lot. 

“Yeah? You think I’m handsome?” he asks, drawing closer. 

He gently pulls your hands off of your face.

You look up at him.

His cheeks are pink, flushed from the alcohol, his hair is less tame than it was when you got here, and his crimson eyes are radiant, even in the dark.

“Miguel,” you exhale.

“Y/N,” he says, smoothly, deep, pretty on his tongue.

You grasp onto his suit jacket, pulling him into you. 

He strokes your cheek, then combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it out of your face. 

You stare into each other’s eyes, then his eyes wander down to your lips. 

You tilt your face up and he leans down.

You kiss. 

It’s heated, drunk, wet, and addictive.

It intensifies as he slowly presses you up against the wall, your lips still glued to each other. 

His lips detach, his kisses trailing down to your neck.

“Y/N,” he breathes against your skin. 

“I know you remember me,” he mutters into your neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“English 150A. I know you remember.”

“I didn’t realize you did.” 

“You’re hard to forget.”

You pull him back in for a kiss, shutting him up. It’s drunk and passionate. Your cheeks burn hot.

His fangs are razor-sharp; you’re too drunk to realize when they cause you pain.

You pull away, then reach your hand up to his lips.

“Can I?” 

He obeys, looking down at you with drowsy eyes. 

You stroke his fangs. They’re hyper realistic. If you applied a bit more pressure, they would puncture the tip of your finger. 

“Why are they so sharp? Mine aren’t that sharp. Where did you get them?”

“Doesn’t matter. They were expensive though,” he shrugs, allowing you to continue touching his lips with your thumb.

“Miguel, these could actually cut me.” 

You reach back to his fangs, before he gently pulls your hand away.

“Here, I’ll do it,” 

He grazes his own fingertip on his fang, drawing blood.

“Miguel, stop,” you squeal, yanking his hand away from his mouth. 

He laughs, showing you the blood. He’s too drunk to read the concern on your face and you’re too drunk to realize it’s not that serious.

“It’s like a paper cut, Y/N,” he reasons, sucking the blood off his finger. 

“You’re annoying. I’m not staying here and entertaining this.” You reach for the closet door. He grabs your wrist. You turn to look up at him. 

“Come on, Boots, I was just showing you,” 

“What? What did you just call me?”  

“Boots. You wore those red rain boots that week of the storm. I thought they were cute, and it just stuck with me,” he says, shrugging it off.

“You really do remember me. Okay, we’re doing this… wait, you’re a science boy, what were you doing TA-ing for an English course?” 

“Hm yeah, it was a favor for Professor Reyes,” 

“Favor for what?”

“I’m too drunk to talk about this right now,” he groans, throwing his head back.

“Okay,” you nod, leaning only your back against the wall.

He looks up at you, then slowly approaches you. 

“We still have like four minutes left,” you sigh.

“Four minutes. I can work with that,” he smirks, towering over you.

Then he’s kissing you, hands on your waist, holding you against his body. Again, he’s pressing you up against the wall. 

His leg is in between your legs, as you lean back. 

You squeeze his tricep, encouraging the pressure he’s applying all over you.

“You’re so warm, and god, you’re so beautiful,” he grumbles into your lips.

You feel it, something pressing into your thigh, against your dress. 

The butterflies in your stomach intensify. You feel hot all over. You’re drunk and you want him and he’s right here and he wants you too.

“I want you,” you moan into his mouth. 

“Yeah?” he whispers, trailing his lips down to your neck, sucking gently. 

“Harder,” you encourage, enjoying yourself a little too much. 

You comb your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly.

He squeezes your thigh, holding you tight against his leg. 

He sucks harder; you feel his fangs brush against your skin.

You moan, pulling his hips into yours. He grips your waist tighter. If you weren’t wearing this dress, his fingerprints would be bruised into you. He hangs his head on your shoulder, quietly moaning into your skin, before bruising you again.

He restrains himself. 

“Now bite me,” 

He pulls his face from your neck.

“Y/N,” he says, head tilted, face drowsy, hair tousled. 

“It’s gonna hurt,” he shakes his head, his eyes glued to your lips.

You pull him down for a kiss. 

The music stops. 

“Seven minutes up!” they yell, clapping. 

You pull away from each other. You try to catch your breath.

You fix your hair, bring it forward to cover your neck, wipe around your lips, and look up at Miguel, who’s brushing his hair back and straightening out his suit. 

You walk out of the closet and join the circle once again. 

“How were the seven minutes? How was the sex?” they tease.

“We just talked,” you slur, shrugging, suppressing your smile.

“Miguel?” they press on.

“We just talked. You heard her,” he defends, eyebrows furrowed at their doubt.

They move on to their next victim. 

You turn to each other. Your eyes meet then break. 

The night goes on. 

⋆♱✮☽🎃☾✮♰⋆

Happy Halloween 🧛🏼‍♀️

-G ⋆୨୧˚

ch.8 here

[cowboylexapro]

thing taken from @pineapple-coffee

[frozenoj]

Published Reylo Fics Master List

Everyone knows reylos stay winning, and I have no doubt we'll be one of the most published fandoms of all time. List originally posted on twitter (and actually stolen from an anti lmao) but ported over considering... all that.

(Note: I'm mostly just C&P'ing right now, if you know an author has a tumblr and they aren't tagged please lmk thanks! And ofc lmk if I've missed any or as new things get published.)

Ali Hazelwood Cinematic Universe

Three novels, three novellas, and she's just getting started.

Go Hex Yourself by Jessica Clare

When Reggie Johnson answers a job ad, she’s astonished to find that she’s not applying to work at her favorite card game, Spellcraft: The Magicking. Instead, she’s applying to be an actual familiar for an actual witch.

We'd Know By Then by Kirsten Bohling

Meeting your soulmate triggers "the glimpse"—walking out of Dorothy's house in Kansas and into the colorful world of Oz. The problem is, Brighton has ALWAYS seen in color.

For Love and Bylines by Merrin Taylor

When Ava Thompson is offered an undercover investigative role, she jumps at the chance. But posing as a high school senior proves to be more than Ava signed up for when she meets brooding English teacher, Nico Adams.

Almost Perfect by Charlie Mitchell

Recovering from a brain tumour, Ben has lost confidence in sex & relationships. So he gets in touch with Rey, a specialised sex worker, to help him get over his fears.

Soul Searching by E. A. Blevins

Finding your soulmate is like winning the lottery. They're rare and precious and lead to riding off into the sunset. They're not supposed to be your high school English teacher or carry baggage that can tear you both apart.

The Hurricane Wars by @theaguanzon

A land ravaged by storms and conquerors… A refuge across the sea that comes at a price… A volatile alliance between two bitter enemies… A growing attraction as dangerous as it is irresistible…

Crossroads by Chaney Banett

Ester lives a simple enough life as a waitress at a truck stop diner, plopped in middle-of-nowhere Minnesota. Her days aren’t boring necessarily. It’s just that they’re one all the same.

She doesn't question life very often. She doesn't question anything at all, actually.

…Until the mysterious regular at booth sixteen starts asking.

Hanukkah at the Great Greenwich Ice Creamery by Sharon Ibbotson

Grumpy Cohen orders a coffee when he goes to deliver a present from his mother at the ice creamery. While there he's immediately drawn to River, the Deaf woman who makes the ice cream flavors.

My Roommate is a Vampire by @jeenonamit

Cassie Greenberg's desperate when she finds a too-good-to-be-true apartment in a beautiful Chicago neighborhood. She knows there has to be a catch—only someone with a secret to hide would rent out a room for that price.

Cassie’s sexy new roommate is a vampire. And he has a proposition for her.

The Rockstar’s Omega by Hannah Haze

Layla won a backstage pass to meet her idol, Ash Canon. What will they do when his scent sends her into heat?

(Does anyone know if Hannah's other works also used to be reylo? LMK!)

The Alpha Nextdoor by Dani Doll

It doesn’t matter how hot the alpha next door is. She’s a beta, and that means it’ll never work between them. Right?

The Exception to the Rule by Christina D. Ambrose

Violet Dawson is spirited, independent, and definitely not your typical Omega. She's determined not to be drawn to the gorgeous Theodore Chamberlin, senior editor and company Alpha asshole.

They are thrust together to plan an event, and all seems to go well until Violet's workspace floods, and they have to share an office.

What will become of them when their close proximity causes Violet to go into heat?

The Most Titillating Tale of Miss Hall & Dr Black by Jenny Michelle

Miss Charlotte Hall, bored & neglected by her Grandfather, has a shameful problem. Desperate, she turns to his physician for help. But she hadn't expected the help to be quite so…manly.

Antique Magic by Kait Disney-Leugers

Brie St. James is in need of a part-time job. She finds it at Spirit Antiques, owned by the handsome and aloof Ezra. But there's more to the shop than meets the eye. Under the layers of patina and dust, a gateway to the magical world and the shop is the crossroads of goods for the magical residents.

To Have & to Hold by Avery Crow

When Clara’s work visa is denied, she figures that’s the end of the road for her. Until her boss offers to marry her.

The idea of going back to cold, gloomy London and the dark past that haunts her is only slightly worse than having to somehow convince her friends and coworkers that her new marriage is authentic, and that there is any sort of love between them.

But Andrew Morrow is full of surprises, and Clara soon finds herself in over her head and pining for a man who is, after all, only doing her a favor.

Kirsten S. Blacketer

Kirsten has a ton of books, like omg a ton! Looks like at least 7 different series/collections? I don't know how many of them were reylo originally (could be all, could be just a few) but check them out.

[schrodingersachillesheel]

he just like me fr

[cupidszone]

Introducing Benny and Ethan 🖤

(bonus under cut)

they really made mini versions of themselves :')

[fallen-gabrielle]

I'm not that imaginative, so have a super demonic Nigel for this very special Friday the 13th of Spooktober!

[pencileraser1]

currently watching every single robert sean leonard movie i can get my hands on it is 5 am I have not slept

[carte-blanco]

EA SPOILERS

I was just talking to @gumballrightfoots about the EA and i could not for the life of me come to fact this man has lived for 50 years and his last name is "Fox"

Your a whole vampire, with a decade long-term of knowledge on your belt and... Your last name is "Fox" LMAOO

Quinn "Fox" vs Samuel "Collins"

We all know which one hits different

[lacedinweb22]

Vampire Next Door ♱✮♱ Chapter 2: Night Terror ✮⁺₊

Miguel O'Hara x reader prev part

Your neighbor is strange, to say the least. Miguel O’Hara: Alchemax’s newest scientist, genius, most sought-after bachelor … and according to your wildest suspicions … a vampire?

*ੈ✩‧₊

He waits for you, standing tall in front of your apartment door. He's got a motorcycle jacket on, a dark navy t-shirt under, tasteful worn out jeans, and he's carrying a box full of your room decor; it's like a manifestation of your 18 year old fantasy delivered right to your door.

You approach him. He looks down at you, offering a slanted smile, still standoffish, but you can tell he's trying.

He was a focused student then. He paid no mind to the eyes glued on him as he rushed to class, or maybe he was too oblivious to notice. Eyebrows knit together, as he rummaged through his notes, all while walking at the same time. He had very few friends, kept to himself, and was envied by his academic competition, so it made sense why he was the way he was. And it, of course, made you want him even more.

You scramble to pull your keys from your back pocket.

"Got them," you mutter nervously, avoiding eye contact with him. He tilts his head, watching you. You open the door, and he takes a step back to let you walk in first.

He follows behind you as you reach the kitchen counter.

"You can leave it right here. Thank you, Miguel," His name feels new, weird on your tongue, but you like it.

"No problem," he replies, placing the box on the counter. "So this is what it looks like in here," he says, surveying the spread of the place, as he takes his jacket off.

"Yep, this is it," you smile, watching him from the side, "Feel free to take a look around."

He's huge, and tall, way taller than you remember, but this is also the closest you've ever been to him. He runs a hand through his hair slowly, biceps flexing as he wanders around the barren apartment. He could destroy you. If you hadn't had a massive crush on him all this time, you'd think it insane to let a beast like him into your apartment.

But you admire him.

You take in this sight of Miguel. You know this is the only possible way the Miguel O'Hara would ever willingly come into your home.

You step back and watch his eyes explore your new home. His hair is tousled, and his outfit doesn't look like Alchemax attire.

You force yourself to talk; you don't know when you'll see him next.

"Did you just come back from work, or school?"

He tucks his hands into his front jean pockets, shaking his head.

"No, I was umm just out, running some errands," he says, looking you up and down.

Did you overstep? Or had he just not had the chance to fully look at you?

"Hey, you never told me your name," he says, eyebrows furrowing, as he walks up to you.

"Y/N," you blurt, looking up at him.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. Pretty and hard to forget," he says, smiling down at you, as he slowly towers over you.

Seeing his real smile evokes your real smile immediately. His crimson eyes stare into yours; you could stare into them forever, if you weren't blushing and panicking internally.

"So you're my neighbor, huh. Perfect timing running into you on the stairs there," you say, breaking eye contact.

"Yeah, I don't ordinarily take the stairs, but today felt different ... just wanted to try something new,"

"So you ordinarily take the elevator?"

He tilts his head, "Yes, yeah the elevator."

You back away and head for the pile of boxes on the floor.

You ignore the fact that Miguel O'Hara is standing in your apartment. You have to start somewhere.

You kneel on the floor, looking through the boxes, trying to find a place to start.

He stands behind you, watching you, almost analyzing you. You look up at him to find him watching you intently, like he's trying to read your mind.

What is he thinking?

You look back at the boxes, pretending to be unfazed by his attention to you. You brush the hair out of your face, and take a deep breath, hoping the red in your cheeks will fade away.

"You look familiar," he mutters, crossing his arms.

You look familiar? To Miguel O'Hara?

You always thought there was a slight chance he was aware of your existence. You had one class with him; he was a TA and you were a student. It was a huge lecture hall, three hundred people. So he couldn't have. There's no way he ever noticed you sitting in the back of the class. He graded your work. That's all.

He consistently left thoughtful annotations on your work, notes that you read too much into, but they were always helpful and you found them ... sweet. You always aced your coursework, maybe here and there he marked you down a point for going above the word count, but you aced them nonetheless. And he saw that.

Maybe he does remember you and he's just fucking with you. In that case, you'll fuck him right back.

"I get that a lot," you mutter, looking back at the mess you're digging into.

"Hmm I'll figure it out," he says, shrugging confidently, like he's onto you. You've learned quite a bit about him today. The way he acts, the way he talks, how he carries himself. You've gotten a pretty generous glimpse into the new Miguel.

"You do that," you mutter.

You lift the box up from the floor and carry it to the restroom. He follows behind you. You're flattered but also slightly confused by how long he's been accompanying you.

You leave the box on the closed toilet seat, and begin to unpack your things onto the sink counter. Miguel stands in the doorway, watching.

His arms are crossed as he leans against the door frame. You look at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his forearms bursting with muscle, his dark blue tee snug exposing the outline of his abs, his gray briefs peeking out under his jeans.

"You must really think you know me, stranger ... watching me unpack in my new home," you say sarcastically, looking up at his reflection.

"Yeah, I figure if I stick around a bit, it'll come to me, just need a bit more to work with," he shrugs.

You scoff. "Okay, let me know when it comes to you."

"I will," he says, nodding, his eyes still on you.

You hear a hard thump, then shuffling coming from the other side of the wall beside you, his apartment.

You both sharply turn to look at each other.

His eyes widen a bit; his stare becomes focused, he's trying to listen, figure out what that noise was. Shouldn't he know?

"You live with someone?" you ask, standing up straight to turn and face him, slightly alarmed by how loud the thump sounded.

"No ... I uh, I'm dog-sitting for a friend,"

"You're a terrible dog-sitter, over here bothering your neighbor instead of checking on the poor thing," you tease.

"Yeah, I'll go take care of him now," he says, standing up straight, then heading for the door. You follow behind him.

He grabs his jacket from the counter as you open the door for him. He stops right outside, between your two doors, his apartment being right across the hall, six feet in front of yours.

"It was nice meeting you," he says, nodding. He smiles, then begins to unlock his door, looking back at you, "And Y/N, if you ever need me, I'm right across the hall, so just knock, and I'll be here. Uhh except at night, I'm usually ... out, at work."

"Got it. Thanks," you smile, hiding behind your half-open door.

You watch as he unlocks the door, and opens it a few inches.

You hear a muffled whine. Neglected puppy.

"Shit," he breathes out.

He looks back at you eyebrows furrowed, then looks down and flinches, before looking up to flash you a forced small smile.

"Ha yeah, gotta help the little guy, I'll– uh I'll catch you later," he says, blocking the crack of his open door with his backside.

"Catch you later," you nod.

You both shut your doors.

︶꒦꒷ ❦︎ ꒷꒦︶

You've unpacked a bit, showered, and finally, after a long, exhausting day, night has fallen.

You curl up in bed, your room cold and empty, besides the little corner of the bed you occupy, lit up by the warm light your beloved stained glass lamp provides. Your eyes rest on the colors reflecting on the wall, as you reminisce about Miguel back in university, and the Miguel you met today.

Miguel O'Hara was in your apartment, talking to you, interested in what you had to say and who you were. Okay, but it's not like he's some huge celebrity, he's just a ... big deal in the science world ... and the biggest crush you've ever had.

He's not any cooler than you. He's not. You're cool. You're smart. You're hot.

The rain beats against the window, pattering and lulling you to sleep. You turn off your side lamp, and cover yourself up. You're exhausted from the move, and you know this is going to be some real deep sleep. You close your eyes and drift off.

You toss and turn, your deep sleep holding you hostage to nightmares of screams and glowing crimson eyes.

A muffled scream wakes you up. You sit up in pure darkness, sweating and breathing heavily. Was that a part of the dream? Or was that real? 

You see a figure in the corner of the room. You squint, your vision blurry and recovering from your sleep. 

The moonlight glows against the window, illuminating the wet rain beating against the glass, the noise pounding and disorienting you.

It’s Miguel. 

The moonlight creeps in, lighting up the side of his face.

He's soaked. His t-shirt wet against his body, hair dripping onto his face. There's blood on his hands.

You quickly turn to pull the lamp on.

You turn back. He's gone.

You lay back down, ignoring what had just happened and accept it as a part of your dream.

You haven't gotten a full night's sleep in days. You're emotionally drained, physically drained, and extremely sleep deprived. You doze off to sleep.

That was the first night you dreamt of Miguel O'Hara, the first of many. 

*✧･ﾟ

ch.3 here

my lovely taglist: @wingedturtledream @skaochii @bat-yo-us @lostpirate79 @renn-pumkin-head @princessa-micomicona @waiif-uwu @punpuun @thbidkbutok @acehyacinth @thetoetickler @kaqua @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @inafantasyworld10 @d1lf-loverrr @altheadq @thesilenthill @trash-king18 @imnotyourbcbe @tiffanypooh @ihateuguys @littlemissilovecoconuts @royal-jester @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @tbh2idk @gilliantate23 @envyjmoney @qiaipia @ur-fav-ginger @lacook246 @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @blair6th @missing2socks @thel0velykey190 @ladymoztaza @ta3bae @dhollandhs @qiaipia @deputy-videogamer @kinkybandages @murnsondock @obi-mom-kenobi @rjasmin2021 @syarblu @smokers-sweetheart

[cowboylexapro]

free bobby leonard movies!!!

cant fit it on here but much ado about nothing is free on prime <3

[mysterygrl20]

April 25, 2024 | Big Thanakorn

[trinity-trouble]

i don't enter tumblr for a day and what the fuck has happened in the wwdits fandom??

[thrawns-backrest]

Stoker's Van Helsing is a bit weird but the fact that he was like 'if you do crime in broad daylight on a busy street no one will suspect a thing' automatically makes him the best character in that book

[bowtiebuns]

Sketches of my ghouls

[cantsayidont]

Recentish adventures in gay vampire movies:

THE VAMPIRE NEXT DOOR (2024): More properly a bisexual vampire movie (eventually, if you're patient), this is a dumb low-budget comedy about a 20-something dweeb, Cameron (Alex Matthews), who's persuaded to act as chauffeur/getaway driver for his hot new next-door neighbor Victoria (Jessica Ferguson) while she does some vampire murders around town. Meanwhile, Cameron is secretly in love with his hot blond bestie Diane (Bella Chadwick), for whom hot himbo Martin (Andrew Larkin) wants Cameron to do the Cyrano de Bergerac thing. An underwhelming throwback to the dopey (PG-rated) teen sex comedies of the '80s (with ONCE BITTEN an obvious comparison), the movie spends so much energy on the romcom stuff that it takes forever for the vampire stuff to come into focus, and, as in many bad '80s comedies, an awful lot of the plot hinges on Cameron being an "innocent" Peeping Tom. Sort of amiable despite having no real redeeming virtues, but it's weighed down by Alex Matthews, whose character is unsympathetic and whose head-lolling performance suggests that he's recently been hit with a tranquilizer dart.

BIT (2020): MEAN GIRLS meets THE LOST BOYS, featuring a teenage trans girl from Oregon, Laurel (Nicole Maines), who comes to L.A. to spend the summer with her brother (James Paxton) and falls in with a clique of gay vampire girls led by the sardonic Duke (Diana Hopper). Funny and stylish, it suffers from trying to cram at least five hours' worth of plot into 90-ish minutes of screen time. Many of the component pieces are interesting and fun, but as a whole, the movie feels jumbled and unresolved: Various subplots and secondary characters go nowhere; the other vampires (Zolee Griggs, Char Diaz, and Friday Chamberlain) get hardly any character development — Griggs' character Izzy is there mostly as Laurel's love interest, and Diaz and Chamberlain barely have any lines; and Laurel remains curiously underdeveloped, reducing her to a fairly generic teen movie protagonist. Maines is an appealing screen presence, but she can't compete with Diana Hopper, whose commandingly bitchy performance as Duke is the centerpiece of the movie. There's a lot to like about BIT, but it might have worked better as a TV series, giving the characters and story more room to breathe.

THERESA & ALLISON (2019): Extremely low-budget cinema verité horror comedy-drama about gay college girl Theresa (Arielle Hope), transformed into a vampire after a disastrous one-night stand, as she struggles to navigate her new vampiric existence while nursing a crush on a somewhat older vampire, Allison (Sarah Schoofs) — who is totally, definitely (not) broken up with her obnoxious boyfriend Tony (Charles D. Lincoln, who also wrote the script), who now won't leave Theresa alone. The production values are modest and the acting is uneven, but this is a much more cohesive movie than the other two, with far and away the most intelligent script and many inventive ideas (like the fact that New York City has social services for vampires, although like most urban social services, they're underfunded and totally inadequate). Its biggest strength is the way the story builds its vampire-related elements around familiar real-world gay girl travails, which is sometimes very funny as well as horrifying. The caveat is that this is still definitely a horror movie, and goes some quite dark places (requiring CWs for suicide and sexual violence, beyond the usual for vampire stories), with an ambiguous but rather harrowing ending.