BLOODBATH AT THE HOUSE OF DEATH Reviews and free on YouTube
Bloodbath at the House of Death is a 1983 British comedy science fiction horror feature film produced and directed by Ray Cameron from a screenplay co-written with Barry Cryer. It stars comedian Kenny Everett and featuring Vincent Price.
The film is an over-the-top spoof loosely inspired by The Amityville Horror and other genre films from the same period.
Plot:
1975: Headstone Manor is being used…
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Guys will say "hear me out" then show you a picture of Angelina Jolie from 2005 while girls will say "hear me out" and then show you a picture of some fictional character who's a psychopath.
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(season 2) stepbro!rafecameron x innocent!reader...DARKER CONTENT BELOW PLEASE BE AWARE! (also i kinda hate this but..)
rafe really was like an older brother to you..at first.
for example, he would tease you like you were his younger sister, but his lingering eyes and touches suggested that he thought of you as more than his 'sister'.
he'd reach his hand back to tug sharply on your hair to hear you whine when rose and ward was setting up the camera for a family picture--wheezie slapping his arm and sarah chastizing him as you pouted your glossy lips and rubbed your sore scalp. of course he'd act like he didn't do anything, rolling his eyes and trying to hide a smug smirk.
when he would wrestle you and manhandle you on the ground, his hands grappling at your waist, hips, arms, etc. as a means of getting you back after you snatched the television remote from his hand. he'd press down on your body, his hands pinning your arms down above your head as you giggled and squealed. when you tried to fight against his body with yours, he quickly moved one of his hands off your wrist to pin your hip down, your skirt riding up and bunching up when his hand adjusted his firm placing on you-- pink panties showing your swollen folds--and he felt his cock jump in his slacks. "stop---stop moving, y/n," he'd pant, a small laugh following a lingering smirk that was etched on his lips. his hair flopping in his eyes as he held you down. he straddled your body when you tried to push on his chest to get him off of you as you quipped a small, "can't breathe, rafey!" biting your lower lip as you tried to maneuver your way out of his grip. you were still holding onto the remote like a vice, though.
"yeah, well, maybe you would be able to breathe if you gave me the damn remote--ah!." he moved his hand to pin your hand that wasn't holding onto the remote down as you were about to slap him in the face.
because rafe is...well, rafe, and his anger issues fire off at any given moment, he flipped you around on your tummy pulling you up so your back was against his chest as he ripped the remote from your hand, breathing heavily in your ear as you whined. "don' fuckin' hit me, a'ight? hm?" he was quiet, a small threat that sent a chill to lick up your spine. "nod if you understand.." he said softly, with a bit of an edge laced in to his words. he liked when you were pliable like this. when you didn't nod, your brain in a blur-- he tsked, grabbing your face with his free hand once he threw the remote onto the couch, then gripped your face hard enough to force a pout on your lips as he harshly forced you to nod. "good, good." he said, and that was the first time you felt a little bit of fear around him. and he knew that. and he liked it. he had to put a pillow over his boner as you got up from the ground hopping onto the cushion next to him to see what show he was putting on, playing with the golden rings adorning his fingers.
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“Are you even listening?” NO I’m fucking trying to read my Rafe Cameron fanfic but this bitch keeps bothering me
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