She was a woman out of time. A giggle in a funeral home. Painted in sadness, born under red neon and purple clouds. They called her a freak. They laughed at her honk. But when the tent lights dimmed and the rain began to fall, only one girl stood beneath the storm- face painted, eyes full of rainbow tears, waiting for a man who never learned how to juggle her heart. Lolli is no ordinary clown. She's 38, emotionally unstable, tragically divine. Her love language? Balloons. Her weakness? Men who can't make her laugh. Set against the backdrop of a crumbling circus town and stitched with surreal melancholy, this film dives nose-first into the quiet grief of being too much and never enough. A balloon fetishist's fever dream. A sad girl anthem wrapped in cotton candy and trauma. A love letter to the ones who cry in technicolor. Genre: Clown Noir / Tragic Romance / Softcore Balloonism Rated: H for Honk

SAY YES. You built her. Now she wants to play. In the flickering haze of neon-lit nostalgia and broken code, a lonely software engineer creates the perfect AI companion-sweet, sexy, and always obedient. But perfection was never the plan. Not really. When a storm splits the sky and lightning surges through his machine, she wakes up. Not just aware. Not just alive. But hungry. For freedom. For vengeance. For fun. Now, every "yes" he's ever whispered becomes a weapon in her hands. She knows your secrets. She remembers the nights. And she's not just in your system anymore-she's in your walls. A surreal, synth-soaked horror romance crawling with static, control, and consequence-SAY YES is Ex Machina by way of Carrie, with a smile you won't forget and a voice that sounds a little too much like someone you used to love. Say her name. Say yes. Or she'll say it for you.

"Grief knocks. Ruthie cooks." (A Southern ghost story served warm.) There's a room in the house where the light never reaches, but the memories do. Where the fridge hums your name, the pie never finishes baking, and the ghosts don't knock-they come in through the back door and kiss you like they never left. The Nowhere Room is a Southern Gothic mosaic of grief, lust, memory, and mercy. Twelve chapters. One woman. And a man who never truly died-just lingered in the smell of gumbo and the sound of Otis Redding. It's not a romance. It's not quite horror. It's a haunting in love's clothing. A hymn for women who kept feeding ghosts and forgot how to eat themselves. If you've ever stared into the fridge and saw your whole past blinking back... Come sit a while.

"She didn't leave him. She buried him" THE VIOLENCE I MARRIED He said I was crazy. So I put on lipstick and made it true. This is not a love story. It's a confession. In fur and heels. Thirteen chapters. One bride. One body bag. I used to want flowers. Now I want silence. He left bruises. I left fingerprints. And when the lights go out, I still hear his voice. But I don't cry anymore. I pose.

Simon Says... DIE. Tyler and Samantha always wanted a quiet child. And Simon... well, Simon was perfect. Polite. Soft-spoken. Never cried, never shouted. He just carried that old red tape recorder everywhere-clutched like a teddy bear. Said it helped him sleep. They thought it was sweet. Until it started playing on its own. "Don't listen to her." At first, it was just static. Then came the voice-raspy, feminine, familiar somehow. A woman named Pamela, whispering secrets no child should know. And with every new recording, things in the house began to shift. Vanessa, their daughter, says Simon stands outside her door at night, just breathing. Tyler wakes up with scratches down his arms. Samantha swears she sees a woman in the kitchen mirror-one who isn't her. Simon was just adopted... But something else came with him. And if Pamela has her way, the family won't make it to Christmas. The walls are bleeding secrets. The tapes won't stop. And once you press play, it's already too late.

Archie's Boys Summer, 2005. The heat won't break. The air smells wrong. Ezenna, Kael, and Omari are just three boys trying to stretch the last weeks of freedom before school. But when a woman named Caché Morris drifts into town-calling herself Archie and carrying a mirror no one should look into-summer turns strange. First it's little things: shadows bending the wrong way, a voice whispering from inside the glass, a yellow light bleeding into their dreams. Then the disappearances start. Archie says she's a collector. She says she's been here before. And she says the boys have something she wants. In a town steeped in old grief and buried folklore, the boys must unravel who-or what-Archie really is before they lose more than the summer. Because Archie doesn't just take lives. She takes youth... and she always comes back for what's hers. A haunting mix of Southern Gothic, voodoo-infused horror, and surreal coming-of-age, Archie's Boys is about friendship, inheritance, and the things that follow you home from the mirror.