#FRANCHISE !!!!

[unbfacts]

[oldshowbiz]

The Eddie Cantor School for Talent

[horror-n-m3tal]

Silent Hill European Disc Designs 1999 - 2004.

[xplore-the-unknwn]

The Core of the Planet of the Apes Franchise ft. Wes Ball (Director)

"Can Ape and Human live together? and I think what its really saying is Can two people who are different live together?"

Sci Fi’s purpose is always to question, test and challenge what we understand. And Planet of the Apes has always been a satire to the ego of humanity and their hunger for dominance. In a fictional world where Apes became the 'humans'/sentient intelligent species and men are likened to beasts. What kind of world will that look like? What kind of dynamic or relationships can that bring? and the Franchise has always been about asking that question.

Now enter our new main characters. Wes said the focus of the new movies will center around Noa and Mae’s very unique dynamic. A girl and a sentient ape both different but both similar in doing what they can to protect their loved ones.

and there’s nothing wrong if you get curious with how their relationship will develop. Is that something heinous? to root for a dynamic that can greatly influence the fictional world they live in?

tbh thats what the film WANTS- Make you curious. ASK THE QUESTIONS IT WANTS ASKED.

Peak storytelling. All I see is a Director smartly pinning the tension between these two main characters to further hook us to seeing more of the next films they’re making. A masterclass in creative writing too. With that we can ask the questions- If apes were sentient like humans how will we treat them? Who do we root for knowing human nature tends to be destructive? IF we understand each other’s differences can we learn from each other and live side by side? Circling back to the question-

Can Ape and Human live together?

And those questions will be answered through THEM- Noa and Mae.

Theres a-lot of importance in their dynamic and the future that they’ll bring with it. Will it be tragic or hopeful?

See, it intriguesss.

and thats Sci Fi’s purpose. That’s the Planet of The Ape’s message.

Also with the fandom ship or not ship yall just ENJOY this franchise and let its underlying messages speak to you. Thats what the filmmakers and actors behind this film would want too (I feel for them sm and see the passion to get this done and I just want to VOICE out that this beautiful movie and the characters they worked hard on are greatly appreciated)

[stevebuscemieyes]

[artzyleen]

The most behind the scenes crumbs I can get, still grateful 😭🥲

Full interview

[arts-bloody-rose]

Blood of A Rose - One of A Kind (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - After having been together in their unspoken relationship for some time, (Y/n) suggests that they have their own first date.

Notes - Y’all I’m alive 🤚🏻 This is for a request from @odditycircus-2002 asking for a date night between this beautifully twisted couple 💕

Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or have a request!

Word Count - 2,739

Warning(s) - Art honestly, violence, minor gore

Song Inspiration -

Matt Maltese - As the World Caves In

(Y/n) stood next to her bed at her house, folding her laundry while Art was curled up on top of the sheets across from her. Only the lamp on one of her nightstands was lit, casting a warm and dim glow over the room. Soft music filled the room, creating a calmer atmosphere as they soaked in each other’s presence. 

Art’s eyes traced her every movement, fascinated by how meticulous she was with such a simple task. 

As she grabbed her clothes that were put on hangers and opened the larger wardrobe to put them away, she eyed the clothes inside. There wasn’t an overwhelming amount, but there was enough for every occasion. Though she never participated in such occasions. As she hung up the last article of clothing, she was struck with an idea. 

“Hey, Art?” The clown perked up at her delicate voice. “I was wondering about something.” (Y/n) continued as she finished putting away the rest of her clothes in her dresser. 

Art sat up enthusiastically, hands folded in his lap  with his legs outstretched in front of him as he grinned in anticipation. 

She smiled in adoration at his behavior. “What if we had a special night together?” (Y/n) asked timidly, moving to straddle his lap and began to fiddle with his ruffle collar. 

Art’s expression was thoughtful. Curious, yet it held a sense of confusion. 

“I don’t mean what we usually do. I mean just us… going out and enjoying each other’s company.” 

Art gave her an almost offended expression, motioning between the two of them and then holding his hands up in question with a level of sass. 

“Listen!” (Y/n) giggled and placed her hands against his chest. 

Art crossed his arms, leaning in with his ear impatiently. 

“I mean like a date.” 

His expression turned into surprise, hands coming up to his cheeks. 

“We can go out and grab some good food, watch a movie together.” (Y/n) continued persuasively, reaching to take his hands and held them together in front of her. “I can dress nice and pretty for you.” 

Art looked her up and down seductively, wiggling his eyebrows as his tongue peeked out between his teeth. 

“We’ll see.” (Y/n) chuckled. “Does that sound good to you though?” She asked seriously, thumbs brushing the back of his gloved hands. He nodded eagerly and she leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. “Good. Tomorrow then.” 

-

In her small, dimly lit room, (Y/n) stood in front of her dresser, carefully applying her makeup in front of the mirror hung above it. Music hummed in the background, giving her a boost of confidence as she stood back and admired her more gussied-up appearance. Her reflection was striking yet soft, a haunting beauty. 

The personification of her work.

The air smelled faintly of old paint, charcoal, and the earthy scent of the countless roses and odd trinkets Art had collected for her over time. But there was also a new scent that clung to the air; the smell of her perfume that she kept for special occasions such as this. 

A small smile played at her lips as she thought of him. How he’d watched her work in silence, eyes gleaming with admiration, his chilling presence somehow making her feel seen and safe. She felt his encouragement in ways no one else could understand.

(Y/n) pulled herself from her thoughts and took a deep breath. It was their first official date, and she wanted to look perfect for him in her own way. Wanted the experience to be perfect in their own way.  

She reached for a necklace Art had gifted her; a small, golden locket with a delicate engraving of a thorny rose. Inside was a piece of paper, a drop of both his and her own blood dried into it - a blend that was terrifying and alluring, representing their unspoken vows to each other. 

She fastened it around her neck, letting it rest close to her heart.

A knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts, sending a flutter through her chest, settling into her stomach as nerves began to set in. 

The knocking turned into impatient pounding and (Y/n) took one last look in the mirror, feeling a surge of butterflies that she only ever felt when she was with him. 

She opened the door to find Art standing there in his signature outfit, his face painted with that wild, almost taunting grin. There was one subtle change to his attire, however. 

At the base of his neck sat a simple black bow-tie. And it oddly fit into his usual monochromatic look. 

When she met his eyes, his expression softened - just slightly - when he saw her, as if she were his masterpiece.

He didn’t need words to express himself, his eyes saying all that she needed to know. 

Perfection. 

There was no need for small talk or pleasantries; they shared a quiet understanding, a mutual appreciation for the darkness they both embraced. 

“Hey.” (Y/n) nearly whispered abashedly, hands fidgeting in front of her as she burned under his gaze. 

Art’s head suddenly shook, knocking him out of his frozen state and snapping to attention with a wide grin. He playfully adjusted his bow-tie, then bowed low, holding his hand out to her dramatically as he held eye contact. 

(Y/n) giggled and delicately placed her own into his palm, watching as he began to kiss it, slowly working his way up her arm before finally landing on her cheek. 

Her cheeks reddened as his hand still held onto hers, then linked their arms together and led them out of their hideout. 

The streets of the city lay quiet beneath the shroud of night. Beneath the glow of scattered streetlights, accompanied by the eerie stillness of their surroundings, it felt like a hidden stage set just for them. The night’s chill bit at her skin, though she didn’t mind. It was refreshing, almost calming, matching the small flickers of excitement she felt in Art’s strange company. 

Even then, she simply stepped closer to him, practically molded into each other as they strolled towards the town. 

It felt odd seeing Art out and about without his bag, and even weirder for himself as it felt like a piece of himself was missing. But as strange as it seemed, he agreed not to bring it for the sake of their experience.

Beside him, (Y/n)’s heart fluttered as she snuck glances at the man she called her own. She could burst with tears, break down in front of him and fall to her knees with praise and pronounce her undying love in cliche romance. 

But she could only stare. 

And for the first time, Art nearly felt an unfamiliar flutter in his own stomach as he, too, snuck glances at the woman beside him. His grin was plastered, unwavering and unreadable to anyone who saw it. But inside, behind his stone-cold eyes, he was more confused than ever before as his chest threatened to twist itself at the sight of her. 

As they approached a rather new take-out restaurant on the edge of the city, (Y/n) wondered if he’d even be interested in a simple meal. Art’s appetite, she suspected, leaned more towards the bizarre, but he seemed to humor her. He cocked his head, miming curiosity in her culinary interests, his odd, silent laughter filling the spaces between her nervous suggestions. 

Art nodded in agreement and patted her hand, remaining outside while she went in to order.

Following a few moments deliberation over the menu, she chose a few dishes she thought might suit both of their tastes. Anything with rich flavors, meats, and smoky spices, all packed neatly in small cardboard boxes. 

After what felt like an eternity, Art jumped when he heard yelling from inside the building and busted through the door, figure tense and expression twisted into violent determination. 

Behind the counter, (Y/n) pulled out a pen from a man’s jugular, a bag of food sat on the counter beside them. Blood spewed out of his neck as he held his hand over the wound, gargling for help and collapsing onto the floor. 

Art immediately relaxed, watching as she tossed the pen onto the counter and finally looked over at him with an indifferent expression. She huffed and rounded to the other side, grabbing the bag of food with her clean hand and making her way over to him. 

Art crossed his arms and tapped his foot, looking at her impatiently. When she reached him she casually wiped off the blood on her hand onto his suit as he rubbed at his stomach with a frown. 

“Trust me, I’m hungry too.” Art pointed at the counter in question. “He called me a slut.” (Y/n) pouted. 

Art took her wrist and lowered it, eyes set on where the still-gargling man was before making his way over to him. 

“Art, I thought we were hungry.” She practically whined as she watched him disappear behind the counter as he crouched down to the man. 

(Y/n) sighed and took a seat in one of the booths, picking at her fingers as she waited for him to finish. 

Eventually, they left the faint glow of the restaurant with food in hand and strolled towards a cemetery just down the road that they had passed. 

The night felt alive in that stillness, and (Y/n) found herself unwinding in ways she never did around others, and the same seemed to occur with the notorious clown.

The iron gates creaked as Art swung them open with a flourish, bowing theatrically as (Y/n) stepped through. Her cheeks warmed, and she smiled shyly, clutching the take-out bag. They found a secluded spot under an ancient oak tree, far enough from the main path to avoid anyone who might’ve been around. 

Taking their seats, they ate in companionable silence, Art gleefully tearing into his food with exaggerated enthusiasm, each bite accompanied by silent laughs and approving nods. (Y/n) found herself chuckling, feeling at ease as she nibbled at her food. 

There was something strangely poetic about it, about their peaceful picnic among the tombstones, two souls savoring the comfort of isolation in a world that rarely understood them.

At some point, (Y/n) set down her food, watching Art as he looked down at his food while he ate, behavior deceptively innocent when he looked up and around every now and then with wide and curious eyes. 

Her own turned to look at the tombstones with a kind of reverent curiosity. Her mind began turning, imagining stories for each name etched in stone. She leaned back against the oak before speaking.

“Do you ever wonder what they’d think of us?” she asked, motioning to the graves. “Sitting here, sharing a meal. As if… we’re normal people.”

Art cocked his head, his silent laugh haunting but surprisingly warm. He raised his hand, pointing a gloved finger at her before tapping his own chest and waved his hand. He found amusement in the thought of two misfits being perceived as ‘normal’, finding solace where others might see only fear or strangeness.

(Y/n)’s smile softened. She felt understood, and that feeling lingered in her chest like a fragile ember, warming her. 

She looked back out at the tombs, scanning over them before she found one she thought was particularly amusing. She nudged Art with her shoulder as she chuckled. 

“Look at that one.” She pointed and Art squinted to read it. 

Guess I have tomorrow off. The epitaph read.

Art nodded and held his stomach in laughter, (Y/n) joining him as she held onto him with her head on his shoulder as she cackled and wheezed.

Art popped up at the new sound, pointing at her and impossibly laughing even harder as he watched her cover her mouth in embarrassment. 

Her hand lazily slapped at his arm. “Asshole!” She choked out as she struggled to catch her breath. Art wiggled his eyebrows and used his fingers to tell her for shame.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes as their laughter died, moving to stand as Art stood quickly beside her. He pushed her back down and she collapsed back into her spot, looking up at Art with an offended expression. 

Her expression flattened when he brushed himself off and held out his hand in a gentlemanly manner. 

(Y/n) clicked her tongue and reluctantly took it, then shrieked when she was suddenly yanked up and collapsed into his chest. 

She looked up at him and he gazed at her promiscuously, looking her up and down. (Y/n) swatted at his chest, then pulled away to pick up their mess and tossed it into a trash bin as they left hand-in-hand. 

When they entered her house, (Y/n) pulled off her shoes and made her way to the couch, Art trailing closely behind her. She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, clicking through until she found a slasher film that she thought he would enjoy. 

“Have you had ice cream before?” She asked him curiously as she walked to the kitchen. She looked back to see him shaking his head. “You want to try some?” 

Art grinned excitedly and rubbed his hands together, shoulders hunched as he creeped over to where she stood at the fridge. 

He watched as she pulled out a tub of neapolitan ice cream, followed by two bowls, spoons and an ice cream scooper. When she opened the tub, he eyed it for a moment before he dug his finger into the chocolate portion and brought it to his nose to smell it. 

(Y/n) watched him with a small frown, raising an eyebrow at him. He finally ate it off of his finger, and with it still in his mouth, his eyes widened. 

Art suddenly snatched the tub, knocking over a bowl in the process, and practically trotted over to the couch to plop down onto it. 

“Hey!” (Y/n) tried, but he ignored her and simply dug into the ice cream with his fingers. 

She sighed and crossed her arms, contemplating before she grabbed one of the spoons and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past her lips, giving up on the irritation and instead finding his behavior adorable. 

She met him at the couch and curled up next to him, starting the movie before she became too comfortable. She was careful as she scooped her own ice cream, mindful of where his fingers touched to not get any of the grime that inevitably contaminated it. 

As the movie played, (Y/n) would be lying if she said she was paying attention to it. Truthfully, she was more so focusing on his reactions, however minuscule they were. 

Despite his sadistic behavior, he seemed so innocent in this state. Almost childlike with the tub of ice cream in his lap, coating his fingers and lining his mouth as his wide eyes took in what played before them. He laughed whenever someone was murdered, but that was only to be expected from him. 

She chuckled softly to herself, grabbing a napkin from the coffee table in front of them once he set the now nearly empty tub aside. (Y/n) waited patiently as he licked at his fingers until they were nearly pristine before she wiped at his mouth. He flinched at first with a frown, throwing her a side-eye, but eventually gave in. 

When finished, she fully snuggled into him, Art reaching an arm around her to pull her closer and resting his head on top of her own.

As he watched the movie, she closed her eyes, closely listening to the rhythm of his heart. She noticed how it picked up with his laughter, with his anticipation before the next kill. How it slowed during the more calm scenes of the film.

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep. And when the movie ended, Art went to slap her thighs in his enjoyment for what he watched, but stopped himself when he noticed her peaceful form wrapped around him. 

His mouth formed an ‘o’ and he looked around, wondering what to do. Art then relaxed his face with content, shimmying to get himself comfortable before he closed his eyes alongside her.

Tag List: @callsignwidow @hoe-for-daddywise

[ghostvibess]

my life gives me a plot twist every month it’s like a saw movie with zepp song playing in the background

[owlstar97]

Silent Hill Origins-f portrayed through various SpongeBob Squarepants episodes

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

The King's Man (2021) Daniel Brühl as Erik Jan Hanussen

This was one of many Daniel movies I'd already seen before I became a simp for him. I remember loving the first installment, The Secret Service, and hating this one in comparison—even though the second one, The Golden Circle, should have clued me in on the franchise's waning quality. But rewatching it for this monocled fiend, knowing fully what to expect, and having become more familiar with Matthew Vaughn's style since then, I was able to enjoy it for the hot, campy mess that it was. Learning from this, I was also able to enjoy Argylle. Do I need another installment with Erik as the Shepherd? Not necessarily. But I'd still be at the cinemas on opening day. Especially since it will reunite Daniel with August Diehl and David Kross.

[saintsir4n]

Hewwo! Currently I have an unnatural obsession with Brian O’Conner atm n I read ALL that u have to post on him. So can u make some 1shots on the newest addition to the family and Carson n Brian navigate life as new parents, maybe even throw a little vacation for the 2 of them while rest r taking care of baby Jessie😘

BABY STEPS

WARNINGS: mentions of postpartum depression and angst.

——

“No, no, Jessie don’t touch mama’s hair when you’re trying to — and you’ve done it,” Carson groaned, when some baby food got in her hair. Jessie babbled in her high chair. A silicone bib was wrapped around her little neck and a confused look was written on her chubby face. “Now it’s all in my braids.”

“Digging the new look,” Brian teased as he jogged into the room, having heard his wife’s yell. The 13 month year old, squealed when she saw her dad. “Jessie, have you been causing trouble? You know your mommy’s hair is her pride and joy.”

“Don’t say that Brian," Carson grumbled out, trying to clean out her braids.

His jokes only irritated her, he knew that.

“She won’t know," Brian didn't see the harm in trying to lighten the mood and picked up their daughter after taking off her bib, smiling brightly and broadly when she mirrored his experience with her baby teeth.

“She understands more than you think. She’s got your big beady eyes — I’m kidding baby, you know I think they’re adorable,” she quickly corrected herself upon catching her daughter's frown. “See.”

“Don’t mock her," Brian playfully scolded, “Don’t mock me.” he turned to his princess, tickling her tummy. “Mommy’s being mean ain’t she?”

“She likes you more than me," Carson shrugged, standing up and pinning her hair up.

Brian quietly scoffed as he gently bounced their daughter, “No, she doesn’t.” he never understood why she kept saying that. “She loves us equally. You just gotta be more patient with her.”

“It’s easy for you to say that, you leave the house more than I do.”

Brian sighed, “You know what I mean. Just be more …”

“Patient?” Carson snapped back, trying to clean up the mess their daughter made.

All day, every day she felt exhausted, tired and even more frustrated with everything, especially with her husband, which meant they were rarely intimate.

“Maybe next time you feed her you tie up your hair I don’t know — wait, Sonny," he called out, watching as she folded her arms and glowered at him.

“I don’t need your shit right now Brian," she hissed, trying not to startle their daughter who picked up more words recently. “You aren’t here every day. I have to do so much around the house. We have a dog that does as much damage as our daughter —“

“— she doesn’t cause damage. Ultra’s a dog and she’s a baby what did you expect?” Brian exclaimed.

Jessie stared between them in confusion as she was placed back in her highchair.

“More support. I need more help from you. That’s what I expected. No, in fact, that’s what you promised me.” She had expressed to him that they would share equal responsibilities before they decided to keep their baby. She feared motherhood because she never had a mom growing up. Brian’s parents were flaky so he told her that they would do their best together. At times she would regret agreeing. “Every day I have to tidy up 5 times. I wake up early to her cries and screams, I prepare her food, prepare the dog's food, our food, all while you’re out —“

“Working? Providing for us. And everything you said, that’s what you’re supposed to do. That’s your job.”

Brian's eyes snapped shut when he realised his mistake.

Carson slowly nodded to herself, “Wow. Thanks, Brian.”

“You know what I mean," he tried, staring at her apologetically, "I'm sorry."

“Yeah, I do know what you mean," Carson exhaled. “Just forget I said anything. Jessie needs to be put down for her nap.”

She approached their daughter, missing the confusion on her husband's face.

“She just ate isn’t that a bit too soon?”

Carson carefully picked up Jessie, who quickly started fussing. Stay calm, please stay calm. She would tell herself and Jessie. Sometimes she wouldn't think of anything else.

“I’ve got her on a schedule. She needs to stick with it so I can get some me time because asking you for help is too much apparently," she gritted, not hearing the whimpering from Jessie.

“Don’t get like that, I’m trying to help when I can," Brian threw his hands up in the air.

“Well, it’s not good enough. You’re not here for me. Not as much as you promised. And some days I am losing my fucking —“ Jessie started to cry, “No. No, don't cry.”

“It’s okay baby,” Brian neared them, taking her tiny hand as tears streamed down her face.

Jessie didn't want to be held, no, she didn't want to be in her mom's arms. That was clear.

“I’m sorry Jess," Carson repeated, for what felt like an hour.

But only a minute went by.

She wanted to cry. She wanted nothing more than to cry, but she couldn't she had other things to do. Her throat was drying up, and her eyes blinking rapidly.

Only when Brian took Jessie did she start to calm down.

Carson had to tear her eyes away from the soft and tender sight.

Brian was a good dad. He loved singing and playing with his daughter whenever he could.

And it only made Carson feel worse.

“She’s good, aren't you princess?" Brian bounced her, "I’ll put her down and we can talk.”

Carson sat down in her chair, with tears pooling in her eyes. She hated it, not now, go away, please. Fuck, she felt exhausted, useless, confused.

Brian turned to his wife, panicking at the sadness flashing over her face. She turned so he wouldn’t see, but he could.

“What’s the point?” Carson sighed, rubbing her face, “Nothing's gonna change.”

“I wanna help," Brian knew he needed to do more.

“Until you can’t and it’s me that’s left to do everything. Like I’m supposed to right?” Carson drawled with a sniffle and stood up again.

“Sonny, can you just wait a second. I’m sorry about what I said.”

Carson waved him off, “I’m going to go and get this food out of my hair. You know, my pride and joy, right?"

Brian cursed herself when she left the room. He offered his daughter a small smile when she leaned her head against his shoulder and eyes drooped.

Nap time.

He could do that, he could follow his wife's schedule, even if it was a little. He needed to help.

He put down Jessie in her Princess crib. Princess Jasmine posters were all over the room, she even had a little doll that she clung to.

Brian pressed a kiss to her head as she drifted to sleep, "Daddy loves you. Mommy loves you too. She's tired and Daddy needs to do more."

Shortly after he left the nursery and pulled out his phone, looking around before dialling.

“Hey," he greeted, glad that his wife was locked away in their room.

“Wassup Brian?” Suki's voice tore through the phone.

“I need some help. Carson needs to get out for a few days. The house is driving her crazy.”

“The house or you?”

“Alright, alright, I was thinking of going on a trip just us two. You up babysitting, and looking after Ultra?”

“Sure, you paying me right," he heard her laughing.

Brian groaned, “Suki.”

“Me and Tej can do it. Don’t worry. Just book the trip and pack her bags. I know she needs this.”

Brian frowned, “What’s she said?”

“Mind your business. Now go and talk to your wife.”

——

a/n:

thank you for the suggestion! it was so cute to write. I didn’t expect it to turn so angsty, but I kinda feel like this is where their early stages of parenthood would go to, considering Brian would work and Carson would stay at home. They’re living a normalish life and Carson is having to deal with so much.

I also feel like if Brian planned a trip to go somewhere, he would feel like that would solve everything but Carson might just get worse. She feels like she doesn’t have his support because he simply isn’t there all the time.

[spoookyghooost]

[oldshowbiz]

Thelma Todd's Sidewalk Cafe on Pacific Coast Highway: Then and Now.

[horror-n-m3tal]

Hellraiser 1987

[1skittler1]

Darth Maul Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999) (x)