My Favourite Book In The Whole World. Ever.

And I’ve never loved a vampire before… so that’s a coincidence. 🤔🫠

Love this post ❤️

"I have never played a vampire before."

Matthew goes on talking about Dracula, the most famous vamp.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Fast forward a few years, Matthew has portrayed not one but two vampires, one of which is the iconic Count Dracula in Abigail! Never say never 😁

📷 My edits from Sky Adow featurette "All the best of Matthew Goode and Matthew Clairmont in one place", A Discovery of Witches (2018) s1, and Abigail (2024)

The world may be in shambles but at least I’m getting letters from my good friend Jonathan Harker

CYMB Lazar. Just ‘cos.

Used the Jake Spicer Scrawlrbox 115 and this reference image from Downton Abbey.

Vampire and his prey mood board, using stills from ADOW, Abigail and random photo edits I made. It gets me when the stag kneels down and accepts his fate/submits to the predator.

And here’s a random rambling about Joey and Lazaar, which I wrote today because I was unwell and couldn’t go out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59486872 It flows from the photo edit of them lounging on the couch above… and a comment made by the wonderful @pleasereadmeok 🖤❤️🩶 I’m not sure the fic even makes sense. But it’s just for fun… so there you go.

(Completely Unofficial) Morck Merch. We need some.

Oh no 😩😣

Also… I could have just used MDCM hunting in a beanie. Would have been a lot quicker and I could have screenshotted it myself. Oh well! We live and learn…

Lazar

📷🧛 Photo edit (see three originals below, which I mashed together and then drew over using LHR brushes in Procreate and then added PS cinematic filter) 📷🧛

📷 ⬆️ Original images found on Pinterest 📷

I’m half way through Department Q Book 3 and Carl is pretty into Mona, from the tiny snippets JAO gives away. I need more MG charm in the story so, instead of tidying the kitchen and getting on with work, I tried some more photo faffing using the 📷 above (by Female First website and Philip Sinden) and here’s what I came up with:

‘A candid snap of Carl and Rachel at the messy end of a post-work social (that Carl didn’t want to go to). They’ve tried to sneak off together but got side-tracked in the doorway: Carl pulls her in, playfully, towards him and she can’t resist. The photo, though, is a bad idea as far as Rachel’s concerned. Carl hasn’t even noticed they’re being watched (he’s tired, as usual, and she smells just too good).’

In my mind, this is where the ‘Carl and Rachel dance’ is at, @asgoodeasgold 🖤

I need to work on my photo editing. It’s fun. But I lose focus before my brain is onto the next thing. I’d love to try photoshop but feel fully overwhelmed every time I look at it.

Carl ended up looking exasperated. By himself or Mona/Rachel? Only time will tell.

Mixed media photo and Procreate faffing about as I enjoy reading Department Q and wait patiently for the Netflix show.

📷 Orginal photos by BBC drama and David Calder on Facebook 👌

Still imagining that Abigail epilogue? Yes, I am.

In my mind, this is Joeys’s house. She has a visitor, as you can see 🧛🔍🖤

⬆️ (enjoying the luminance brushes on Procreate a little too much 😂)

📷 Fan art photo collaging using Procreate - photo of MG from ADOW - photo of MB by Luis de la Luz - stock/my own photos of garden furniture, foliage, house, etc. 📷

And there’s an imaginary scenario (for @cecipaez-blog1 ). I don’t own the characters, I haven’t properly studied the film, I have no idea what I’m talking about, really: it’s just for fun 🎡.

——————————————

A Visitor - Part 2 - Ready or Not

— imaginary mini epilogue to Abigail (2024) featuring Joey/Ana and Lazaar —

You often feel like you’re being watched. It’s a hazard of your line of work and the questionable company you keep. But tonight, as you clear away the debris of an evening with friends in your backyard, the feeling is palpable.

You pause to listen and gauge the sensation. The fairy lights strung overhead dance slightly in a warm swirl of summer air, making the shadows below you throb in and out of focus. A wind chime twinkles, with slight menace, from the garden next door.

Get a grip, you tell yourself.

Get inside and lock the door, your body tells itself.

Just as you have composed yourself and are about to continue the clean up job, a clear, luxuriant voice cuts through the warm night air behind you.

“Not interrupting anything, I hope?”

Your movement slows as immediately you identify the speaker. You straighten and speak his name:

“Lazaar.”

You are surprised by the evenness of your tone, when your pulse seems to feel the exact opposite.

You turn and, with another rush of the tepid breeze, he emerges from the shadow of a tree. His hands are in his pockets. His posture is soft. But his stare is far from it. He walks slowly towards you, enquiringly.

“I had friends over for dinner,” you gesture towards the empty pizza boxes piled in your arms and the beer bottles which clink together in your clawed fingers.

He nods and his gaze flickers towards the house.

“Everyone left,” you find yourself needlessly reassuring him.

“I see.”

You can’t quite see if he’s smirking but it feels as though he might be. As he observes the clutter in your arms, the movement of his eyes is languid and appraising. “May I?” he reaches towards the empty bottles to relieve you slightly of your load.

You’re taken aback by the offer, but agree, “Sure.”

As the bottles are transferred, you notice his nostrils flare. You realise he’s trying to ascertain what kind of company you have kept. His brow smoothes and you assume he is satisfied by his investigations; it was, after all, a girls’ night in.

Without being asked, he walks over to the bin store and deposits the bottles in the correct one. Returning to take the pizza boxes from your arms, he repeats the process. You observe that you find this bizarrely incongruous show of domesticity wildly attractive.

As he saunters back towards you, he looks at the open door to the house. You stand there wondering if you are actually going to invite a vampire into your home.

“Why are you here, Lazaar?” The question emerges low and slow into the sultry air. You didn’t mean it to sound so provocative but you’re coming to realise you have little control around this man. Creature. Fantasy figure.

The piercing gaze is on you now. The vampire looks slightly agitated by your question. You watch as he steels himself and sits down upon the garden wall. He shrugs:

“I find that you…” his gaze drops to his hands, “you… are on my mind.”

You take a deep breath to quell the lilting, fizzing sensation rising within you. You note the unassuming nature of his posture as he sits on the wall, deliberately metres away from you. Yet this calculatedly unthreatening stance does nothing to mask his agitation.

Numbed and blurred slightly by the moderate amount of beer you’ve consumed, you probe your instincts more carefully. You find there is no fight or flight here. No threat. You feel the same submissive calm of a few nights ago when you saw him in his garden. The same curiosity. The same heady lurch of your insides when he so much as looks at you.

“Ditto,” you hear yourself say, with a slight smile.

The look that now passes his features is positively devilish and you witness his first genuine smile at you in return.

But the warmth of the moment curdles instantly. You gasp as you notice the uniformity and whiteness of his teeth. They look normal and far from razor-sharp. A wave of nausea resonates with the shock pulsing through your body.

“Your mouth…” you breathe, your fingers finding your own lips by way of explanation.

His smile fades and he moves towards you but stops abruptly when you recoil.

“You’re not…” you breathe and your heart begins to thump as confusion and panic flood your senses, “you’re not in your true form. This - this isn’t you. It’s just an illusion… what are you doing? What game are you playing? Why are you here? I think you should…”

“Ana…” he interrupts, his voice gentle but stricken, “Ana, it’s all right…”

“I must be crazy. What the f*ck was I thinking…,” your mouth is dry and your legs are shaking as you try to back further towards the house.

“Ana, please,” his palms are raised in surrender as he takes two more cautious steps towards you. As the moonlit shadows slide over his features, you watch his face transform into something more familiar. His pupils darken until void of all light, his irises take on an ethereal glow and his fangs become clearly visible beneath a snarling lip.

Your heart stills as you realise that this sight, which should terrify you, has in fact achieved the opposite effect.

“There now…” he soothes, the old-worldly timbre chiming again in his voice. He tilts his face up to catch the moonlight further.

Otherwise he remains very still. Waiting. Watching.

His breath is patchy and you can see the anguish in his eyes.

“Why did you change?” your voice is unsteady, as though you might cry.

“My form… I can... I wanted to be something less alarming… more palatable… more safe.” His brow furrows and his lips close firmly. In the moonlight, you notice a muscle ticking in his jawline.

His vulnerability in this moment is exquisite.

“I did it for you,” he murmurs and this dissolves your doubt as swiftly as it had appeared.

“Well don’t,” you fold your arms but take two steps towards him, “don’t do that again.” your voice softens.

“I shan’t,” he bows his head reverently and relief floods through his tone.

When he lifts his head again, his gaze is searching, “But I want to take the form that you desire.”

The last word rips through you, quite literally, and he speaks again:

“How do you want me to be, Ana?”

I know exactly what you mean. Thank you ☺️

Abigail Epilogue (continued… still!)

A very quick bit of imaginary Joey and Lazaar photo faffing fun, as I continue to daydream about an epilogue to Abigail 2024.

Below are the shots I used (MG by Phil Fisk which I found on the Guardian website, MB for Harper’s Bazaar/Clinique and a stock photo from dreamstime). I messed around with and added to them on Procreate. Not very well but you get the idea, I hope. Just for fun, as usual.