#ultra vivid scene

[guerrilla-operator]

[sonnyyyyd]

Say you'll never leave me. Smarty -Lana Del Rey

[sonofshermy]

Ultra Vivid Scene ‘Self-Titled’ LP (4AD, 1988)

[ursaminorjim]

“Staring at the sun” - Ultra Vivid Scene, Joy 1967-1990

[maquina-semiotica]

“ Mercy Seat”, Ultra Vivid Scene

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♰ ɄⱠ₮Ɽ₳ Ø₦Ɇ ♰

♰ Pairing: vampire!hyunjin x vampire!chubby!reader

♰ Genre: horror/angst

♰ Summary: A new drug's turning vampire's feral and when Hyunjin uncovers a plot to pin it all on you, he's determined to make your enemies pay even if he puts himself in danger in the process.

♰ Word Count: 2.3kish

♰ Warnings: mentioned drug use (it's synthetic blood), blood, burning alive, mentions of violence, strong language, stabbing, vampires obviously, low key psychotic love, pet names (baby, honey).

♰ A/N: I created this to have two parts. This one is more action-oriented and the second will be more romantic. I'm just trying to do my part to give us chubby badass vampire babes whose men love them enough to commit murder, ya know?

The underground club scene can grow quite boring for a vampire. Your first few blood raves make you feel more alive than you ever did when you actually had a pulse. But the ones that follow? They become so mundane and predictable that not even the introduction of human drugs can save them from losing their luster.

Enter a new drug, Ultra, synthetic blood by vampires for vampires. Guaranteed to fuck you up. One dose opens your eyes to a world far beyond your own. It mutates your cells. Alters your brain chemistry. Turns you into a brand new beast. The power you gain is addictive and the things you’ll do to hold onto it, the sins you'll commit, you don’t even want to imagine.

But you must imagine them. You are the one who created Ultra, or so they say, and some incredibly powerful people are looking to give you a taste of your own poison. Tell me, are you prepared to die? Again?

Distorted metal music ricochets off of the stone walls of the club with the force of a dozen automatic rifles firing all at once. The occasional rapid flashing of strobe lights illuminates the darkness, giving the few hundred bloodsuckers on the dance floor the closest thing to a sunrise that they can tolerate. Everyone dances except for one weasel of a man. A dealer slinking through the crowd in his worn leather jacket handing off vials of Ultra to this person and the next.

“I won’t have to do this for long,” he tells his friend at the bar when he stops to grab a drink. This friend, a fellow scumbag, grins as he knocks back a shot, completely unphased by the recent carnage caused by the shit his companion has been peddling. “The council says once I do this they can get rid of her and make room for me.” “Make room for you? Tell me you don’t really think those rich fucks would ever let us into their secret society”

The dealer nods to the bartender to give him his usual, “See, that’s your problem. You think too small. That’s why you’ll never get anywhere.” His friend only rolls his eyes, turning to check his surroundings before he leans in to offer some advice. “I’d be quieter about this if I were you. If she finds out you’re trying to set her up she’ll sick her dog on you then you won’t get anywhere either.” “Fuck her” the dealer spits, finishing off his drink, “She can sick her dog on me. I’ll just have to put him down.”

Agitated, he slams his glass down on the bar, nearly shattering it. “I’m supposed to be afraid of her?” he mutters, shoving the other man aside to turn down a winding hallway that leads to the back door. He stops in front of the door to dig for a cigarette, wincing at the brightness of the few working lights that dangle from the ceiling of the desolate hallway. The air shifts, growing colder around him, but he’s much too busy fidgeting with his lighter to notice the change. Too lost in the ecstasy of that first drag to notice the shadow along the wall closing in on him. “I don’t even know why they have to do all of this. Should just kill her. She’s just some stupid b—”  

An ice pick pierces his neck from behind, taking every twist and turn between his muscles before emerging on the other side. The cigarette falls from his lips, extinguished by the tiny pool of blood forming in vivid red on the concrete floor. “Just some what?” Hyunjin questions, rolling the ice pick between the man’s vertebrae. The sound of metal splitting bone is music to Hyunjin’s ears. “Speak! What were you going to call her?” The man opens his mouth but no answers tumble out. Only blood and desperate gasps for air. Tears begin to form in his eyes as the reality of his helplessness sets in.

Hyunjin leans over the man’s shoulder, his large hand reaching around to cover his mouth. “I should’ve known you’d have nothing interesting to say” he sighs, almost sounding disappointed, “You’re just some stupid bitch.” The ice pick slips out smooth as butter, finding a new home in the man’s left lung followed by his right. Hyunjin moves in a blur of darkness, leaving the man spinning in circles trying to predict where the next attack will come from.

Blood pours from a dozen different holes scattered across his body. He reaches out to grab the collar of Hyunjin’s expertly pressed suit only to pull back a fistful of nothing. The coldness, he feels it now as he drops to his knees, his vision darkening. One final stab, inches from his heart, is all he feels before the bulbs in the ceiling pop leaving him in the dark. 

“Oh, Jinnie, look! Here you are!” you sing from the comfort of a rose infused bubble bath. You ease down further into the steamy water, the rose petals dancing at the surface cloaking your naked body. “Pisces,” you begin to read off from the astrology book you’ve been flipping through, “As Jupiter aligns with Neptune in your house of love, you mustn’t shy away from sharing your true feelings with your partner—” Hyunjin kneels beside you, tilting your book back to view the title. He cracks a smile, “A Girl’s Guide to Astrology 2023. After a hundred years, you still believe in that stuff?” “Mmm, maybe” you shrug, running your black manicured nails through his slicked back hair.

Resting his head on the edge of the tub, Hyunjin closes his eyes and lets you massage his scalp. He could stay like this for hours, having you read to him by candlelight as your fingers melt away all that plagues him. “What are your true feelings? You seem troubled.” “No trouble, my love.” Tossing the book to the floor, you raise his head to look at you. It never fails, even after a century together, that looking into his eyes makes you want to melt. Beyond the beauty of his features lies a softness reserved only for moments like this. For moments with you. A softness that most men of your kind lacked even before they turned.

“You’re lying to me, Jinnie. What’s wrong?” One brush of your thumb across his cheek is all it takes to break his defenses. “You know that Ultra stuff that has everyone turning feral?” You nod, not daring to ask if he’d taken it. He’d never touch something like that. Not your Jinnie. Not when he’s seen firsthand what it does. It’d be hypocritical to say that neither of you lusts for violence. But violence directed towards people who don’t deserve it? Tearing the limbs from innocent lovers in the park? Slaughtering whole families? There’s no pride in that. “I caught the guy who’s been dealing it. He’s upstairs. I think—” Hyunjin pauses, bracing for your reaction, “I think the council plans to say that you made it.”

Your iris pulses an electric red, your heart pumping a pure searing hatred through your veins. The council. Five decrepit bastards who rule their own sectors of the city under the guise of keeping the peace between vampires and humans when in reality it’s all about the money. That’s all it’s ever been about. They’re criminals, the same as any mafia you’ve ever known, and you worked your ass off for your seat among them. They could never quite accept that a woman infringed upon their little boys' club. They would’ve put a stake through your heart a long time ago if it weren’t against their own bullshit rules. 

Rule #1: We never kill our own. The Consequence: Death. 

Ultra doesn’t just make vampires kill humans. It makes them kill each other. And finally, when their bodies can’t mutate anymore, it kills the host too. If they can pin this on you then you’re dead. You, every vampire under your protection, and Hyunjin—

Not him. Never him. 

You rip through the halls of your sprawling mansion, hearing Hyunjin’s voice as if it were far away at the end of a long tunnel. “Cover up at least, honey” he insists, throwing a flowy silk robe around your wet body. You slip your arms in, not missing a beat as you grab a blade from the wall on your way to the third floor. You can hear shallow breathing as if it were your own. The stench of whisky and blood floods your senses the closer you get, nearly making you nauseous. Kicking the door into your spare bedroom, you come upon the man plotting your death.

He’s chained to the bed, his clothes tattered where wounds from the ice pick have slowly begun to heal. You descend upon him, your blade pressed to his throat, fangs bared. “Tell me everything” you demand, realizing at once that you’ve seen him before. Nowhere in particular. Here and there. In places you never thought much of. Had his appearances there really been a coincidence? No, there was a reason. He’s been watching you all this time. How didn’t you see it? “No” he refuses, licking the dried blood from his bottom lip, “Kill me and you’ll burn for it. You both know that!”

You gasp, sitting up on top of him, “Oh no, baby, did you hear that?” Hyunjin leans against the wooden bedpost, his reappearance startling the man. “I heard. Kill him and we’ll burn” Hyunjin dramatically cowers in fear, “I’m so scared. We better be careful, huh?” “Mmhmm” you agree, inching the blade away from the man’s neck and burying it in the mattress beside his head. “Jinnie, how long do you think until sunrise?” Hyunjin makes his way to the window, peeking out at the breathtaking landscape that surrounds your home.

It’s early enough in the morning for the sky to still cling to hues of dark blue as the sun creeps up along the horizon. “Half an hour maybe.” “Would you be a dear and open the curtains? It’s so dark in here.” The man’s eyes dart back and forth, watching your smile grow more devious with each curtain Hyunjin ties open. “Wait, you can’t—” the man panics, struggling against his chains. “I know. I know. We can’t kill you!” you groan, climbing off of him, “But we’re gonna. I mean, thanks to you they’ll probably try to kill me anyway, and since you won’t answer any questions you’re useless.”

Hyunjin takes you by the hand, escorting you to the door. “You go to bed. I’ve got it from here” he whispers, kissing you on the forehead. You cross your arms defiantly, refusing to move an inch. “No, we’ll finish this together like we do everything else.” Hyunjin’s arms come around your waist, pressing your plush body to his. “I always take care of you, don't I?” he asks, his hands tracing your figure. “Always.” “Then go and wait for me, okay? This won’t take long.” You glance over at the man on the bed, your mind racing with all the things you could do to him. All horrors he’d very much deserve.

“Fine but hurry. You've been gone all night. I’ve missed you.” Your lips meet, sparking something that sets your body ablaze in a different way. One that has you tugging at the buttons on his shirt as your tongue teases the sharp points of his fangs. You don’t want to break away and neither does he. Once Hyunjin has his hands on you everything around him loses its importance. The only thing his body longs for—needs as if his survival depends upon it—is you. But he manages to turn you loose for your own safety, locking the door when you leave to be extra safe.

Without another word, he circles the room slowly closing each curtain he opened only moments ago. “What happened? Change of heart?” the man taunts, trying and failing to get a rise out of him. Hyunjin grabs the vintage French parlor chair positioned by the window and drags it to the darkest corner of the room. He sits in silence, his face void of emotion, his eyes unblinking. Hyunjin’s focus is no longer on his prisoner but on the evolution of the light that breaks through the curtains.

Minute after agonizing minute passes until the fear of the unknown forces the man to ramble off everything he can think of. Insults, confessions, pleas for mercy. None of it gets the slightest reaction until the faintest sunbeam casts its light on the carpet. Hyunjin rises, locking eyes with the man for the first time as he approaches the sunbeam. “My wife always said we all have special abilities. Things that make us unique,” he says, rolling up his left sleeve. “I didn’t believe her at first but then one day I got caught in the sun.”

Hyunjin shoves his forearm into the sunlight, his bare skin exposed to what should be eating through him like acid. “Nothing, see? It takes a while for me to burn but you—I have a feeling you’ll strike up like a match.” “No, please! You don’t understand!” Hyunjin smirks, twirling over to the window, “You don’t understand. You told my baby she’d burn. You first!” Hyunjin tears open the curtain nearest to the bed, letting the sun shine in at full power. “What a beautiful morning” he hums, sliding the others open to the tune of screams that would wake the dead.

The man on the bed is burning, his skin bubbling like he’s being deep fried. In a sense he is. The heat from the sun is cooking him. He feels every pop. Every sizzle. Tiny fires ignite, charring his skin. Hyunjin watches on, the steam rising from his own skin barely a tickle. He won’t leave this room before he’s seen him burnt to a crisp, reduced to nothing more than a charred corpse for him to deliver to the council as a warning of sorts.

Threaten what he loves and this is only a taste of the fate that awaits them.

[mangle-my-mind]

Todd Haynes on Mandy Slade

OM: How did you come to cast Toni Collette as Mandy? She doesn't strike me as an obvious choice for the role as it is written; her most famous part was in Muriel's Wedding where she played the podgy, Abba-obsessed ultra-hetero outcast.

TH: Mandy was the hardest part to cast in the film. It's a particularly demanding role due to the range Mandy has to display as she changes from the seventies to the eighties. This type of camp female character has basically vanished from our cultural landscape, as far as I can tell. The closest equivalent today is probably a Parker Posey-type character, but she's still quite different from the Liza Minnelli of Cabaret or the Angela Bowie of the glam era. Mandy has a theatrical, campy party girl persona that can be turned on and off at will, and owes a great deal to the gay male sensibility of the time. I think women around the world were liberated from all kinds of highly codified notions of femininity when people like Patti Smith entered the pop cultural arena. It had such a profound effect on women but girls today have no memory of that kind of camp femininity.

I saw so many strong actresses for Mandy, both in the US and the UK, and it was really tough to find the right one. We came close a few times, but it wasn't until I met Toni that it all clicked. I had no doubt about her acting ability, but the question was how to transform Toni Collette psychically, both for the camera and in her own self-regard into this very different, very confident, overly sexual creature. She really had to go off the cliff; I'm sure it was terrifying. And what you see in the film is such a transformation, such a complete commitment to the role that she almost becomes unrecognizable as Muriel in Muriel's Wedding. After a certain point, nothing was too scary for Toni. What you get with the character is what you get with the actress playing her - this range of changes and the effects of various cultures and various experiences on one extraordinary woman.

OM: Although the script informs you of Mandy being an American bisexual who reinvented herself, you get the sense of invention fully in the scene where she presents Brian with the divorce papers. She breaks down and you see the façade in a seventies context. It's a very moving moment and it's contrasted with Brian's coked-up emptiness. What did you discover in your research about the 'back-stage' women of the glam era?

TH: I guess Mandy's basic expression of real needs is made more vivid by that scene, but the beaten-down, hard-boiled Mandy of the eighties gives you the framework for that. She was definitely one of those people who was feeling and hurting and acting out at the same time. Often the casualties were the women of the male rock world. I really feel the film builds and develops complex sympathies for Mandy that you won't necessarily feel going in. The character is loosely inspired by aspects of Angela Bowie, and it's very easy to make fun of that kind of pop creature after the fact. But in all the books I read there was no argument on how fundamentally essential Angela Bowie was to the invention of Ziggy Stardust and to glam rock in general. She inspired risk-taking and flamboyance to a degree no one else can claim credit for. It wouldn't have happened without her.

Source - "Superstardust: Talking Glam with Todd Haynes", Oren Moverman.

Photo source

Emphases my own :)

[hplovecraftmuseum]

Throughout Lovecraft's years as a writer of fantasy and horror fiction he described scenes of extraordinary creativity that might almost be called 'psychedelic'. THE NAMELESS CITY, THE CALL OF CTHULHU, THE SHUNNED HOUSE, THE MUSIC OF ERICH ZANN, THE COLOUR OUT OF SPACE, and THE DREAMS IN THE WITCH HOUSE, contain origional and unique sights, sounds, smells, and heightened perceptions of unearthly realities. More than one reader of Lovecraft's tales has assumed that he was a regular user of hallucinogenic substances. Certainly this perceived link to a fellow drug user contributed to the fact that Lovecraft gained especial popularity with the 'Hippie' set of the 60s. A rock group of that time took the name H. P. Lovecraft. (2) issues of the underground comic publication SKULL COMICS were dedicated to Lovecraft's stories. 1970 saw the release of THE DUNWICH HORROR movie which definitely displayed a Hippie/ New Age, Psycedelic edge. Even today there are Lovecraft fans who find it hard to accept that Lovecraft wasn't 'smoking dope', eating 'Shrooms' 'dropping acid', or smoking opium, marijuana, or chewing on peyote. OK, maybe HPL wasn't a dope fiend, but he must have been guzzling absinthe, the "green fairy" like his literary hero Edgar Allan Poe? Well, Lovecraft insisted that he had never touched alcohol in his entire life. So, where did Lovecraft's nightmare visions come from? HPL often claimed that he had experienced extraordinary dreams. These he claimed were vivid and bizzare, but remembered fewer of them as he entered the last decades of his life. I suppose we can speculate that Lovecraft took inspiration from the visions of other writers. Certainly he was one of the most knowledgeable experts on the subject of SUPERNATURAL HORROR IN FICTION in history. Of course that was the title of his superb essay on the very subject. Still, if Lovecraft took inspiration from the tales of others, it's hard to argue against the claim that he superseded the works of all others in that respect. So, where did this outwardly strait-laced, ultra conservative, moralistic, individual of Old New England, Yankee, Puritan, Victorian, upbringing come to this unearthly skill at envisioning the outre', bizzare, and fanciful, so beautifully? I must admit, I really don't know? (Exhibit 590)

[must4rds33d]

one of the many scenes i wish to be adapted is the part when mr. rochester was watching jane the ENTIRE time when she and adele was in the gallery the day after the horse incident. literally THIRTY MINUTES of just looking at her from a distance—completely unnoticed!—as she was doing her own business. and then he was all "i didn't like it when you were out of my sight so i asked mrs. fairfax to invite you in the drawing room that night… mind you i impatiently waited for our second meeting so i could ask you a bajillion of questions in hopes of getting to know you better :)”

(i know he only told jane this incident but given his ULTRA vivid description... i think it warrants a visual too lol)

[bitter69uk]

KLAXON! Pink Palace – the weekly queer film club at The Rio cinema in Dalston – is holding an ultra-rare screening of the documentary Tally Brown, New York (1979) on Wednesday 27 March. If you’re London-based, your attendance is compulsory! I’ve seen the doc just once before:  at The Barbican in October 2017 (on a grainy 16-millimeter print on loan from The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts). Back then, I reflected: Watching Tally Brown, New York I couldn’t help but think thank God, a filmmaker documented this remarkable, charismatic and completely original woman. And that it was someone as simpatico as queer New German cinema maverick Rosa Von Praunheim. Von Praunheim weaves a revealing portrait of chanteuse, actress, show business doyenne, bohemian earth mother and all-round diva Tally Brown (1924 – 1989), preserving both her riveting nightclub act and her personal offstage life. And good thing he did as Brown - a vivid scene-maker in New York’s underground art subculture in the sixties and seventies - seems to have completely fallen through the cracks in the decades following her death. A Torch for Tally – the blues album she recorded in the fifties – is long forgotten. The Andy Warhol art movies she appeared in like Camp (1965) and Ari and Mario (1966) languish unseen in locked vaults at The Warhol Foundation. Today, Tally Brown barely seems to exist as a footnote. As the title implies, Von Praunheim positions flaming creature Brown - a native New Yorker - as the personification of her city’s decayed glamour. In atmospheric and beautifully degraded footage, we see seventies New York at its most gloriously scuzzy, grungy and decrepit: the porn cinemas and peepshows of Times Square, gay bathhouses, The Chelsea Hotel, neon signs, dive bars, dissolute nightclubs. And it all looks heavenly! And if that’s not enough, Brown’s pal Divine crops up! (She jokes about regularly getting mistaken for Divine - and even signing autographs as him). How can you resist? See you at The Rio! Tickets. Read more of my musings about Brown here.

[sonofshermy]

Ultra Vivid Scene 'Self-Titled' LP (4AD, 1988)

Yep, I originally bought this in '88 on tape and this is a scan of my copy with the inlay spread wide (front and back). I've been playing this album for the last 36 years, I have other records, but this is one of those LPs I just can't quit for long.

Living adjacent to the The Velvets murk, this is for whip dancing in your teenage bedroom, with the silver foil wallpaper and for nodding off in your own saliva. Mucky flash + dirty glamour, all sleepy-eyed with heavy perv under/overtones. Irresistible, in other words. Ideal if you love 'Slow' by MBV, for example.

[consistentsquash]

Day 26

@hprecfest. A fic with an ending you can't stop thinking about

Snape/Albus Dumbledore. Snape/Harry. Rated E. 11000 words.

In Infinite Remorse of the Soul by @perverse-idyll

The fics I fall in love with always, always disturb me on some fundamental level. A good disturbance because they make me think! These fics have intense emotional connect to haunt you forever. Exactly what this fic does!

Ultra bold, brilliant characterizations, really vivid imagery, lots and lots of beautiful and powerful undercurrents about life/death/resurrection/ego/ethics. Dumbledore is this incredible combo of contradictions. This fic is guaranteed to get a reaction. A big reaction. Just like the The Scream artwork.

Then, at last, it happens: what Albus, stealthily orchestrating matters from behind the scenes, has anticipated for months. Severus cracks. Spectacularly. "What do I want?" he shrieks when Albus makes the grave but highly entertaining mistake of asking a reasonable question. "What do you fucking think I want? An Order of Merlin, would that be too much to ask? Some respect for what I'm risking? I want that bastard Black Kissed. You know that! He betrayed her, he broke Fidelius, he's the reason she's dead, and you're—" Raw and bruised from Sirius' callous treatment, his sallow face flushes like a furious drunk's. "You're helping him dash about the countryside, you bloody let him touch the boy—" "No, Severus." It's wicked, but Albus is enjoying the show. "You're wrong about that."

art source

My other recs for this fest on Tumblr and also on AO3 collection

[thelensofyashunews]

RASHEED CHAPPELL SHARES NEW SINGLE "ICE BURG (GOOD RUN)" (FEAT. LAMAR TYREE)

Tri-State mainstay Rasheed Chappell has just shared his new single "Ice Burg (Good Run)" (feat. Lamar Tyree). The emcee also recently announced that his new album NONSTOP, produced entirely by ATL finger drummer extraordinaire and Atlanta Hawks in-game music producer beatsbyjblack, will be out later this month on August 30th. Made during Chappell's recent 36-hour trip to Atlanta, the forthcoming album is an alchemic blend of New Jersey boom bap bar work and the energetic, trap-heavy production ATL has become known for. A soulful track that finds Chappell reminiscing on his life's journey, "Ice Burg (Good Run)" (feat. Lamar Tyree) is bolstered by nostalgic lyricism, ultra-smooth vocals, and hopeful overtones ("No attachment, be free/Do you, I'ma do me").“'Ice Burg' is a eulogy," Chappell explains. "J provided the perfect backdrop to say my final goodbyes to my old life.”

"Ice Burg (Good Run)" (feat. Lamar Tyree) stamps the third outing from NONSTOP following the recent release of singles "No Play Play" (feat. Benngiie), the visual for which surpassed 135K views in just 11 days, and "Haysoos" (feat. SoundsLikeDen). An artist who has garnered attention as a counterpoint to the coke rap wave of recent years and an integral member of the gritty Hip-Hop collective TRUST Gang alongside his contemporaries 38 Spesh, Ransom, Che Noir, Klass Murda & others, Rasheed Chappell is a seasoned emcee who has been hailed for his vivid wordplay and uncanny ability to paint pictures through language within his raps. Since the release of his 2020 collaborative album with 38 Spesh, Ways and Means, Rasheed Chappell has put out a strong run of projects, including the Buckwild-produced Sinners and Saints.

Following 2022's A Portrait Of with Little Vic, Rasheed Chappell returned with The Arcitype-produced project Sugar Bills in 2023, while recent months have seen him release 38 Spesh collaboration tape Checks & Balances. Now with new album NONSTOP, Rasheed Chappell is continuing his hot streak — and showcasing why he's earned his stripes as a key player in New Jersey's underground hip-hop scene.