#also pretty sure i mispelled a few words

[rafesbbyy]

OMG OMG OMG

I have been waiting for this for decades. I literally was just thinking about this fic, and here it is. This is gonna be a long review, so buckle up your belts!

Istg this chapter was such a roller coaster omg. The jealousy rafe feels???? The way the reader melts into him?? Rafe KISSING her??? Literally killed me. I was so confused because why tf ks reader out with another man?? Then it's revealed she's stealing and omg??? That scene is honestly written, so freaking well, I can't shit up about it. The way we're made to feel the tension and the way it sort of explodes as the watch drops—absolutely perfect.

There were so many scenes that made me go OMG, and I had to breathe super hard because whatttt. The argument was lowkey so painful to read because we know both of them feel something for each other, so why the hell are they acting like such idiots? Plus, Rafe is saying they're just fucking or whatever tf he said (I refuse to even remember it lol) absolutely broke me. Like HOW DARE HE??? This particular scene was so well written—from the tension to confrontation to literally everything.

Alsooooo the way I absolutely panicked and let out a gasp when the reader gets home and discovers her sister is missing???? OH MY GOD. There's drama, and then there's DRAMA, and this chapter freaking has it!!! I was so worried for the reader because poor girl is literally breaking down and thank god Rafe is there—even if he was an ass before.

And, I'm pretty sure the sisters are gonna be terrified and traumatised for a lifetime now. Which in turn makes me think about the reader and how she has to deal with everything on her own, poor girl 😔. Plus, her almost calling her parents and then remembering they were dead??? This shocked me because it's such a painful reminder of how isolated the reader is.

Hopefully, now that Rafe is here, she'll be able to rely on him? I genuinely get her hyper independence and want her problems to remain her own, but I can't wait for Rafe to take care of his girl the way she deserves!! And don't think I didn't notice rafe saying make her problems my problems. Like the man Rafe is!!!! I love him, and the dynamic between him and the reader and what I love even more is how he was so shocked at seeing her so broken. This man needs to provide, and he needs to protect. He needs to do everything! The ending is so perfect, and it's killing me that I can't know what happens right now. But I shall wait patiently because this chapter scratched every little itch in my brain, and I think I will read this like 50 times again.

As usual, the writing is absolutely immaculate and I can't wait to find out more about this man who's harassing reader. Hopefully Rafe understands and helps her and hopefully she let's him bc poor baby needs to be taken care of. Waiting for a more positive outcome in their dynamics because I am a crybaby and I don't think I'll be able to handle anymore ansgt lol. Loved this chapter 🫶🏻

play fake | part ten

masterlist

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a girlfriend in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content series, 18+, eventual smut, angst, jealousy, fake dating trope, ward cameron being a bad father, rafe and sarah rivalry — reader type hyper-independent, people pleaser, smart mouth, stands on business, mysterious past — rafe's characterization insecure, possessive + jealous person, asshole, mood swings

"You're starting to piss me off, Top."

Rafe's agitated. For the past couple hours, he's been in a back-and-forth with his father, talking about the prospects and future of Cameron Development. He hasn't heard anything bad about him, which is an improvement from their last meeting, but he hasn't heard anything good either. It's as if the moment Sarah came back to the picture, Ward Cameron forfeits all care regarding his eldest son.

He needs a break. But he hasn't been able to contact you. After Topper sent him a vaguely-urgent text to come over, Rafe arrives at the Thornton estate with better expectations.

"Me?" Topper gestures to himself, appalled by the declaration. "I'm trying to be a good friend here and help you out."

"By what? Lying?" Rafe snaps, getting a minor migraine due to the music blasting from the inside of the house. This, in combination to the smell of weed and alcohol wafting through the air, isn't helping his journey towards sobriety. "Was this some pathetic attempt to get me to your party?"

"I wasn't lying, I swear to you, man, I saw—"

His words were cut short by a powerful thump. It causes everyone in the room to turn and when Rafe follows, instead of discovering the source, he finds you.

His brows immediately draw together as he takes you in. Disbelief crowning his features. The look on your face is pure panic, as if you didn't expect to see him here. He wants to ask for the reason, the words on the tip of his tongue, but when his eyes finally drop to find a man's hand wrapped around your wrist—it finally registers that you are with someone.

What the fuck are you doing?

Rafe doesn't say anything at first. With a clear mind, he's taking everything in and processing. For once in his life, he doesn't jump to wild assumptions and stew in his own jealousy. He has you to thank for that.

Because Rafe trusts you. He doesn't believe this could be some romantic fluke you're trying to get with. It can't be. With a tilt of his head, almost indiscernible to the rest of the public, he seeks inquiry from you. Your lips part but no words came through.

The Kook beside you—who he recognizes as Garrison from the Island Club—pulls you towards the sitting lounge on the back porch, furnished with wicker sofas and chairs, and settles down at one of the unoccupied seats. You land on the soft cushion with a thud, facing forward, intentionally avoiding his gaze.

Rafe scoffs.

He steps away from his conversation with Topper, not needing to acknowledge the smug look on his best friend's face, before rounding the furniture to stand in front of your date.

"Move." Rafe commands, his voice low and rough, but held enough authority to make the Kook lift his head.

"There's a spot right there," Garrison points to the opposite chair, but Rafe doesn't entertain the suggestion.

"I didn't ask. I said move."

"No." Garrison grumbles stubbornly, leaning back against the backrest and placing a hand over your exposed thigh, a product of your short work attire. Rafe notices your muscles stiffening under the Kook's touch but you don't push him away as he expected you to.

His expression sharp, his anger rising. "If you don't fucking move—"

"Rafe." You murmur, grabbing his hand. He peels his eyes off of Garrison and settles on you, taking in your pleading features, your gentle expression. You're silently asking him to not make a scene, to not do something stupid, and normally, he wouldn't obey. But something about your acknowledgement calms him. "Just take the seat."

With his lips pressed together in a thin line, Rafe reluctantly listens and takes the chair adjacent to yours.

You relax, slightly, but Rafe can tell you're still on the edge. Your leg bounces incessantly against the hardwood floor of the patio deck and you refuse to look at him. Rafe, for the life of him, can't understand why.

But he settles that it's something else. You being here, without notifying him, is something else. It has to be. That's the only thing that makes sense and is keeping him rooted in his seat right now.

"Rafe," Kelce calls out, causing his head to reluctantly turn to his other friend. He holds a beer bottle in his hand and uses it to point at you. "Isn't that your girl?"

Rafe turns back, watching the way your breath hitches in your throat, eyes squeeze shut as if you were just caught. You swallow hard, but you don't answer.

So, he'll do it for you.

"Yeah—"

"It's complicated." You interrupt, meeting Kelce's gaze, but your words firmer than they've been the entire night. This causes Rafe's chest to constrict, him watching your profile and seeing the absolute look on your face. "We're just... trying not to put a label on it."

His jaw tightens, hands drawn into white-knuckled fists. The rest of the Kooks around the patio catch wind of this tension and Kelce lets out a low, depreciating whistle. "Yikes, man."

Now, Rafe doesn't know what to think anymore.

You turn back to Garrison, keeping your voice quiet, but there's an urgency behind your words. "What are we doing here again?"

Garrison abandons his hand on your thigh to throw a lazy arm around the backrest of your seat. "Heard they were gonna smoke," he explains with a flash of a smirk, aimed and targeted at Rafe. "I figure we could take a hit."

You instantly still. "Oh, I don't—"

"You haven't drank anything all night and you don't smoke either? Tell me you know how to have some fun, sweetheart." He teases, the volume of his voice louder than the intended audience. This catches a couple of nosy Kooks to spare a glance in your direction, judgment passing through their expressions, and you go rigid.

Rafe's three seconds away from grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Garrison, but something in him says to remain seated.

"I just haven't had it in a while." You assure with a nervous laugh, leaning forward to put some distance between you and the Kook.

But he doesn't catch the signal. Garrison grins and leans over—too fucking close—to whisper in your ear. Loud enough for Rafe to hear. "Don't worry, I'll help you."

Rafe figures this is some dick-measuring contest between him and Garrison; that, after his order to the Kook, it bruised his ego and he's now getting back at Rafe by talking to his girl. By reminding him that you are with him, and not Rafe.

Normally, there's no woman that made him care enough about that type of bullshit, but with you, he fucking does.

Topper and the others settle down around the lounge and start passing around the blunt. They each take a hit and spread it around counterclockwise.

Despite the reluctance, you square your shoulders in preparation to participate. Your eyes follow the lit joint with precision, waiting, anxiously trying to pull your nerves together. When Rafe's nearby neighbor hands him the blunt, he puts it to his lips and inhales a sharp breath. Holding in.

Since you're next, you meet his gaze and extend out your hand.

But it didn't go as planned.

Rafe takes the opportunity to catch your wrist and pulls you close, sliding his hand up your cheek before capturing your lips on his. He expects to be met with resistance—especially with your little date sitting next to you—but you simply melt into his touch. He takes it as a cue to exhale, and the smoke enters into your system.

Taking a step further, Rafe grab your hips, hauling you onto his lap, away from the handsy Kook that has no fucking business touching what his. All of this done in one swift motion, without breaking the kiss.

Complicated.

He fucking hates that word.

When you finally pull away, you choke up with a cough, gasping for fresh air. Rafe doesn't bother to offer you the blunt, handing it off to the next person, while you try to recover against the sleeve of his shirt.

"Really?" You say quietly, feeling his hand rested firmly against your waist. He tips his head back, meeting your gaze, and a satisfied expression settles over his face.

"You shouldn't have been with him in the first place."

"All of this for a pretend act?"

He hates that you're referring to the relationship as fake. That it still means so little to you. He doesn't let it show that it ticks him off.

"At least someone will get the message."

You don't respond, especially when he's pointedly accusing you of something you can't deny. Rafe's expression is inquisitive, waiting for you to fill in the missing gaps, on why the fuck you're with Garrison at all, but you say nothing. Own up to nothing. You simply turn away, unable to meet his confrontation.

Rafe squeezes your hips. "Sweetheart," he says with a firm warning, and despite the word coming off as a caution, you soften at the nickname. The usage spoken by its rightful owner.

You can't believe you're swooning over his possession, but you blame it on the haziness from the kiss, or the marijuana entering your body after years of discontinued use. However, deep down, you know it's something else.

That maybe it's his word and he owns you completely.

"Can we talk later?" You mumble into his shoulders, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. "I'm getting dizzy."

Rafe scoffs, seeing this as a blatant attempt at avoiding the question, but you bury your face into the crook of his neck, almost as if you're seeking refuge in him. He couldn't force you to speak after that.

For the next hour, you remained seated on his lap. You once tried to move off but his grip around your waist was too firm to displace and you didn't bother to attempt again. It made Rafe proud. Like whatever drew you to Garrison in the first place has ceased to exist and you returned rightfully back in his arms.

This beam of pride wasn't helped by the fact that Garrison's been glaring at Rafe. But he had no strength nor power to do anything about it. Rafe scoffs. Fucking pussy.

In the middle of the smoke session, Rafe receives a call. He pulls out his phone from his pocket to see it's from his father. With a short glance in your direction, Rafe pulls you off his lap and you claim his seat while he steps out for a moment to take it.

When he returns, you’re gone.

"Where is she?" Rafe snaps at Topper, expecting one person to have seen you leave, but his best friend was preoccupied with a girl on his arm. When Rafe calls out to him again, with a sharper tone, the blond's gaze shifts to your empty seat, and shock overrides his features.

"Fuck, man, I–I don't know," Topper stammers apologetically, but it doesn't subdue the anger rising within Rafe. His fists bundled at his side, his teeth grinding against each other. It can't be a coincidence that Garrison also happens to be missing as well.

Rafe's pissed at his best friend for not being aware, especially when Topper brought him here in the first place. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to find you.

"You're fucking useless," Rafe growls, before descending into the crowded house. The music is louder, pinching at his nerves, and the thongs of people aren't helping him narrow down his search. But he's a head taller than most and, with a quick scan of the crowd, he knew you wouldn't be here.

Where the fuck could you be?

He looks through the rooms instead, starting at the first floor. Each time he came across a vacant space, he grew more frustrated and upset. His knuckles ache from how hard he's been clenching down, and his adrenaline is spiking. He was going to lose it if he doesn't find you soon.

Because he has ideas, and he doesn't want to think of any of them.

When Rafe ascends to the second floor, it's much quieter. Emptier. Like you couldn't possibly be here. But when he kick-opens the third door, that's where he discovers you in a bedroom with the Kook, his back sprawled out over the mattress.

You're a few feet away from Garrison, ready to abandon him, when you flinch at the sudden sound of a door slamming into the wall. You freeze. Turning, with all the colors drained from your face, you expect to be caught—perhaps by a friend of the Kook or even the cops—only to find Rafe.

You don't know if that's any better.

Before you could even blink, Rafe grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, forcing a larger distance between you and the drunken Kook knocked out on the king-sized bed.

"Leave," Rafe demands, his tone eerily calm, like the sound of a volcano bubbling before it erupts.

Garrison winces, pressing the heel of his hand into the side of his temple as he drags himself into a sitting position. "God, could you just give me a minute—"

"Leave before I fucking kill you."

The Kook, even with the copious amount of alcohol and weed in his system, wasn't stupid enough to ignore the threat. He knew Rafe’s reputation. Scrambling to his feet, he rushes out of the door.

The air in the room stills, as if all the oxygen was sucked out and all that's left is you and Rafe. His grip around your wrist hasn't loosen, firm and tight—afraid you'll leave again—and when his gaze pulls away from the door and settles onto your face, you hold your breath.

"What are you doing?"

Panic rises as a bile in your throat, constricting your airflow. You can't explain to him what you just did; how shameful you feel because of it. Instead, you deflect.

"What are you doing?" You say, trying to project a stronger voice, to make it sound normal. To pretend everything's fine when it's falling apart. "You said you were done with parties."

He can't believe you're doing this right now.

"I am," he snaps, his breathing ragged as he takes you in. See if you did anything, if there's any signs, but he finds nothing. "Top called me because he saw you at his party and you never show up to these types of things. So, let me ask you again. What are you doing?"

You don't answer.

Rafe exhales sharply, exasperation floods his features while his paranoid runs free. He knew he was going to crush your hand if he held on, so he released you, taking a step back to control himself.

"You wanna hear what I think?" Rafe prompts, his voice low and drawn-out as he begins pacing back and forth, "I think you thought I wasn't gonna be here so it would be the perfect opportunity for you to fuck some other Kook."

That's exactly what you're afraid of.

You wrap your arms around yourself, hiding. "No."

"And you thought I wouldn't find out but you forgot this is my best friend's house."

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breathing rapid, as your voice grows smaller. "That's not true."

He doesn't listen, his volume escalating in anger.

"And you're talking about all this breakup shit because you're ready to jump on the next fucking dick that can get you what you want."

You shake your head frantically, wanting desperately for him to believe you, but you had nothing to give. Nothing to shelter him and soothe his insecurities.

All you had was your heart.

But you tried. "No, that's not it—"

"Then where the fuck is your necklace?"

You stumble back, the last delivery was so sharp and vicious, it's as if he struck you.

Rafe's heaving, chest caving into itself. His eyes never strays from your face as he continues to pace across the room, waiting, expecting, wanting anything you can say to calm his spiraling state of mind.

You can't.

You know what this looks like. You know exactly what this looks like. This is why you didn't want Rafe to be here. Because, on top of what seems to be Rafe Cameron's Pogue girlfriend cheating on him with another Kook—you knew it would hurt him if he saw it himself.

But you had to.

You peer up at him with a heavy gaze, and Rafe interprets it as guilt. "I know what it looks like—"

He can't fucking believe this.

He can't stand here and listen to your excuses.

Rafe crosses the room to grab your face, with such abruptness, you flinch and drop the watch. It lands on the ground with a muffled thump and all of Rafe's concerns lowers when he follows the inconspicuous sound, finding the expensive timepiece on the ground beside your feet.

His conclusion draws slowly. "Are you... stealing?"

You don't answer, with widened eyes, you pull back from Rafe's grip and take a step back with a heavy breath. You glance down at the abandoned watch and you're about to recover it—but Rafe is too fast.

He picks it up with litheness and extends it far above your head. Impossible for you to reach.

His eyes on you but they soften considerably once he realizes you weren't cheating. You were being a thief.

His command is simple and resolute. "Talk to me."

Your breath is shaky. "It's fine."

"It's fine?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "You just stole a eight-thousand dollars watch and you're telling me it's fine?"

He can't know. He simply can't.

Rafe sees the hesitation in your expression, your lack of response, and he can't believe it. After all the things the two of you have been through, he thought he had earned enough of your trust for you to explain why. Why you're stealing. Why you didn't tell him you needed money. Why it always has to come to this fucking point where he has to confront you and pry the measliest piece of information out of you.

You don't trust him.

And it rips at his chest.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. Disappointment and regret all colliding at once. "You know what, sweetheart? For someone who demands me to talk to them all the fucking time, you sure are a hypocrite for not doing the same."

Your eyes soften. You don't attempt to contest his statement because he's right. He's absolutely right and it stings because you do trust him and you do need him—you just don't let him in.

It's worse.

"You're right." You start deliberately, feeling tears well up in your eyes but refusing to let them fall. You inhale a sharp breath, steadying your voice. "I am a hypocrite."

Rafe didn't expect you to agree so easily. It almost sounds like defeat. He doesn't know which direction this conversation is heading, but he knows he doesn't like it. He recognizes that immediately.

With his guards up, he watches you.

"I..." You stammer to find the words, your emotions overwhelming you. But you don't cry. You can't. "It's not fair to you."

Everything in his head is raising alarm bells. Something about your words makes him panic. The way your voice quavers at the delivery, the fact you're looking to the floor. You don't even seem to care about the watch anymore.

Rafe says your name.

"I think we—"

"Don't fucking say it."

"—I think we might need a break."

"No." Rafe refuses, shaking his head as his arm lowers to his side.

"Rafe, listen, I—"

"I heard what you said," he snaps, his voice raw, and you hear his own emotions lodged thickly in his throat. "I don't accept it. I don't agree. I don't..." He's stumbling to find his own words. To find his own meaning.

I don't want to lose you.

You sigh, dejected. "Rafe."

"No." He turns back to you. His blue eyes are sharp but glossy, as if he's on his own verge of tears. "All you have to do is tell me why and we can move past this. I can understand. I swear."

He's desperate. He's begging you; because if you're leaving him just for this, just because he discovers this, he'd rather you have fucked the Kook than put him in this misery. At least with that he can be angry.

But all he feels is pain.

"Just talk to me."

You exhale deeply, simply shaking your head. "I can't. It's my problem."

"Make it my problem, then."

For some reason, there's a bloom of hope. That maybe he wants you more than what he's told you. So, you try. You try this one time.

"Why, Rafe?" You ask softly. "Why do you care so much?"

Rafe looks at you, searching your face, and while he wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he can't seem to put down his pride. The idea of being vulnerable. You've done nothing but demonstrate to him that he means very little to you, that you barely let him in, and if he says it first, it means he'll get rejected first.

He can't handle that.

So he takes the easy route.

"Because we're fucking."

Your heart breaks even more.

You swallow hard. You promise yourself you wouldn't be the one seeking it out first, especially in this relationship, but you try again. You try one last time. "Is that all?"

He can't look at you when he answers. "Yeah."

You press your lips together, nodding to his confirmation. You got what you asked for: the same fear you're afraid to discover. You're going to take his words at face value because what else is there to do?

"That's what I thought."

It's too painful. To continue to stay in this room with him, after he made his feelings known. After you recognize how absolutely fucked you are regarding your own. You need to leave.

You don't say anything else as you move past him, taking the watch from his loosened grip on the way out. You stop at the doorway, staring at his broad back, hoping, silently pleading, he would turn around and change his mind and confess his feelings right there, but he doesn't.

Because he's Rafe Cameron.

And he simply doesn't have any for you.

You exit out of the door and close it behind you, needing that extra barrier of space. When you descend down the grand staircase, you hear a muffled fuck! so loud, it shakes the entire mansion. 

But you don't look back.

You just leave.

—

Once you park in the driveway, you stay in the car for the next few minutes. You just needed some time to yourself. To readjust. To figure things out.

You honestly don't know how you made it home. Your mind was on full auto-pilot the moment you stepped out of the Thornton estate, and you can't remember driving down the narrowed roads, stopping at the traffic lights. You're just here.

You know your next step should be to go inside and get some rest. You need it to wake up early tomorrow and go to a local pawn shop to trade the timepiece for cash. Even as you're dealing with the emotional fallout of you and Rafe's argument, you didn't have the time to delve into the specifics of your heart.

You need to remain focused. To stay on track. Remind yourself that you've successfully stolen a watch from a Kook—whom you don't even know the name of—and prayed all the shots you fed him would be enough for him to forget. To wake up tomorrow with black-outed memories.

This is supposed to be a victory.

Why does it feel like a hollow one?

Your fingers clutch the stolen watch in your hands. Your nails scraping across the gold-plated case, the recognition of the brand behind the thick glass. Rafe's right. This alone could afford to pay off a payment to Aaron and he would leave you alone.

You exit from your beatdown car and make the short walk to the porch. The lights inside the house were off, probably because it's so late and your sisters are off to bed.

When you stop in front of your front door, all the hair on your neck stands. Something feels off. You take a step back, hearing the familiar creak in the floorboard of your wooden porch you always avoid. That calms you down for a second. That perhaps you're overthinking it because of the fight.

You pull the keys out of your bag, and you're about to slip it through the lock, when you realize something.

The door is cracked open.

It's a small gap, almost undetectable by a passing glance, but it was enough to disengage the locks and grant full access to your house.

Your heart starts to race once you realize something is wrong and your intuition was correct. You replace the keys inside your bag, your shoulders squared and your stance on defense, before you shove the door open.

And what it reveals is a complete mess.

Furniture is flipped all over the place, broken glass scattered across the carpeted floor. The bookshelves attached to the walls have been ripped off, their decors and old books thrown all around. The screen on the TV has been kicked in, cushions have been ripped apart with fluff all over the ground, and the kitchen cabinet doors have been torn off their hinges with shattered plates.

All you hear is the sound of your rapid breathing while you take in your surroundings, blood coursing through your eardrums. It's all on you.

Before you hear a muffled wailing.

Realization dawns on you.

Your sisters.

You drop everything and run to the source, approaching their bedroom and nearly tripping over your discarded belongings in the middle of the narrowed hallway. Once you reach the room, you kick-open the door.

There you find Amara, standing in the middle of her equally-destroyed room, in absolute tears.

But Leilani is nowhere in sight.

Your panic skyrockets.

"Where's Leila?" You ask your weeping sister, her fragile voice hitched with heavy hiccups and incoherent mumbles. "Where's your sister?"

You sink to your knees in front of her, cradling her soft cheeks, shaking as you brush away her tears. "Please, Mara. Talk to me. Where's Leila? What happened?"

She offers nothing more than the frantic shake of her head. Words unable to spill from her mouth. She can't talk. She can't even stop crying. She just experienced something traumatic and you're over here drilling her for answers.

No, this is your responsibility to bear.

Knowing you won't learn anything, you rise to your feet and rush out the bedroom door, screaming out your sister's name. "Leila! Leilani! Where are you?!"

No answer. The only sound is the low hums of the broken air conditioner, and you go into your room to search. You find a similar mess: drawers pulled out, clothes all over the floor, the mattress on your bed flipped over, but nothing of the twelve-year-old girl.

Your heart is pounding viciously against your heart, so hard, you think it's going to burst. Your hands are growing clammy. Your breathing unstable.

But you can't think about that.

You check in the bathroom, the closet, any places she could be hiding and coming out completely empty. It's almost as if she disappeared.

What the fuck do you do?

It doesn't take a genius to know this is Aaron's doing. His warning. That it's nearing the end of the third day and you still haven't gotten him his money. This is him trying to scare you.

And it's working.

You can't help but think of the worst possible scenarios. Leilani is the most like you. She's growing into her own person but she mimics most of your behavior. She's cautious, and full of wonder, but she talks back without turns and she has this bleeding sense of justice you never want her to lose.

But you're afraid that same attitude you love about her is what got her into trouble. That Aaron might've caught her smart mouth and taken her as retribution.

You can't help but descend down this spiraling theory. Your breathing grows ragged and shallow, like the air is sucked from your lungs, and you swallow hard—but something hard is lodged at your throat.

You can't breathe.

You can't breathe.

You can't fucking breathe.

You run out to the living room, holding onto the walls as crutches and you fall to your knees in front of your bag, searching for your phone. Tears pricking your eyes, blurring your vision, and your fingers tremble as they attempt to type the passcode. You got it wrong twice before being granted access.

What do you do now?

Your first instinct is to call your parents, to dial up the memorized digits of your mother's and seek their help. But you can't.

Because they're dead.

You're heaving with this daunting reality that you have no one. That you can't help no one. And it's absolutely shattering.

Your heart is hurting; throbbing against the side of your skull. You hear Amara's constant sobs between the walls, echoing through the empty house, and your heart is clutched with this indescribable pain from missing Leilani—like you had a limb ripped off your body.

You can't help her. You can't even help Amara.

You can't help anyone.

"Fuck," you swear under your breath, brushing away the blurring tears in your eyes. Exhaustion bleeds through you but you’re still trying to figure this out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You think you're going to lose it. You're going to breakdown right then and there, in the middle of your disgusting living room, cradling your phone, wishing you still had your parents. It's a rock bottom you didn't expect to have.

But then, you hear the familiar sound of a creaky floorboard.

And you raise your head.

Just to see Leilani with Rafe.

"Leila?" You breathe out, immediately standing on your wobbly knees as you rush to your little sister and cradle her face in your hands, trying to find something tangible to hold onto, before letting out the largest sigh of relief.

She's okay.

Other than a small cut on her forehead, she looks to be in perfect health. She's here, in your hands, alive, and not taken hostage. That's honestly all you could have asked for.

But something in her expression boosts an edge of concern. Not for herself, but for you. You hate the look in her eyes, as if the roles were reversed and she had to be taking care of you.

You refuse to crack. You have to remain strong. For them.

Pulling back, you finally turn to acknowledge Rafe. He stands beside your sister, silently observing this entire interaction, saying nothing, offering nothing.

You don't know how they ended up together, or why, but you were glad she was safe. That she was with him.

And honestly, you're glad he's here.

You don't say anything, staring up to him with this timid, hopeless look, and his heart fucking shatters. He's never seen you like this before, so vulnerable, so scared, so afraid of yourself. It's like he's meeting a version of you he didn't know existed.

And it absolutely kills him.

"Baby..." Rafe says with such tenderness, with such care, as if you didn't have the worst fight of your life an hour prior. As if you didn't have your own heart broken by the same man. For some reason, this offer of gentleness is the very proof that you've been broken.

So you break.

And fall right into his arms.

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[heartate-aa]

Thank god for google photos lmao. Mishka here. When I called Lazarus out I initially approached him in DMs and was going to keep it there if he just admitted his faults and apologised. He (or his friends, fuck if I know) sent me an anonymous ask purposefully misgendering me (I IDed as enby at the time exclusively going by they prns) and that's when I snapped and published it and no one should absolve themselves of this behaviour by saying 'oh I actually didn't approve of this' when they were complicit on it, too. I was an awful person in an awful environment back then that fueled and supported such behaviour cause you too know what was 2016 rpc like lmao. Everyone called him Bob and everyone mocked the mispelling of a Spanish word in his url, it was wrong but it happened. I said how it's weird he's roleplaying as an au Namjoon / rap monster or some shit like that and added him to my DNI but dropped everything eventually. For this aka why and how my callout dropped I have caps.

We reconciled or whatever when the initial blog and callout for Raphael was in the making (in which there isn't a testimony of mine as I felt and still do, that my issue with Ra was/is nothing compared to what others went through, despite the fact people are spinning I wrote it? I was just in the discord group chat with everyone lol.) and for that I unfortunately don't have caps but he was very pushy (despite me blatantly ignoring him) and making nsfw jokes. I was uncomfortable as he just turned eighteen at the time cause it felt like he was just waiting for the moment he could say that shit. Anyway, he blatantly copied my promo for Genji on his McCree blog yet again. I was tired of his antics so I had a friend approach and tell him I don't want anything with him and to fuck off from me forever, which he ignored and messaged me anyways. Just some clarifications, again, because I don't like the full extent of the way things are worded in the callout re: me chasing him off, when I've had nothing but sour experiences in the two times we were in contact and wanted literally nothing with him and him disrespecting it.

Believe it or don't, but thanks for hearing me out.

thank u for sharing this with me. yeah i can .. see that honestly. i don't doubt any of this. and it's funny that people tried to say you were responsible for the original callout when 😭i know the people who were behind it and i've even ... reconciled with and became friends with some of them again. anyways idk this entire friend group has a victim complex and a need to make things about them when they are literally not about them. lazarus literally will go on a bender to rant about me as if this entire thing is about him and not raphael lol. like i'm calling out his involvement, yes, because he lied and slandered me, but ... this is about raphael.

anyways sorry for the wording of that too. it's the way lazarus had spun it for so long until finally he said it was raphael and i who'd done it and i could not think of a better way to phrase it at 4-5 am when i added that but i'll adjust it now.

but yes. it's completely on brand for lazarus to also say sorry and make nice to your face but then immediately turn and drag things out publicly. like. he claims that he doesn't like "drama" and getting involved in things, but then he takes it upon himself to namedrop people for no reason or starts a crusade or gets involved in things that literally don't concern him. he's kept tabs on people for years and so many people have a lot of evidence of that

thanks again for sharing. idk how much of what lazarus said about you was true? and i only remember that one point i saw you get called out for something a few years back and i can't remember what it was about at all but like ... i'm pretty sure lazarus was also sitting on that and dragged it out, and i wish i could remember everything he said in our mediated group chat when we were discussing things and talking it out because i know you were brought up. but i know that lazarus like idk. he always has to be the center of something and the victim of a scenario too and it's just. tiring. i don't doubt the issues either of you have had with each other but the thing is lazarus keeps tabs and continues to stalk people when he should leave it alone, especially if it's traumatizing for him. and yeah i've heard along the vine that he's still ... stealing and even raphael was adamant in accusing lazarus of stealing from their majima blog aesthetics and headcanons before they started to be on good terms lol and that was as recent as like, october 2020 before they changed their tune.

anyways. thank you for sharing with me and i appreciate it and i've corrected my wording in my doc. and u know. it says a lot about you tho that u are able to own up for things you did wrong bc not a lot of people can do that. that whole era of 2016 tumblr in that friend group, especially, is not something i'm proud of because i was also horrible and mean and petty and childish. i'm glad that most of us have learned and moved on from it. i wish i could say the same for raphael/lazarus/ana/forza.

[rawiswhore]

Davey Boy Smith x Fem Reader- “Me So Horny” Part 3

"Davey!" you shouted, raising your voice so the locker room will hear you. "Davey Boy!!"

Davey Boy Smith could hear you in the locker room, he had just taken a shower.

He looked at you.

"Did you hear me fucking Shawn and Billy?" you asked, pointing to them.

"I'm sure the entire locker room could hear you" Davey responded.

He knew it was your moans, he can recognize them and he saw you and 2 other wrestlers fucking.

"Y'wanna fuck me next?" you asked him, looking like a kid trying to be innocent but you're really naughty. "Y'feeling horny?

He probably is getting a rise seeing your naked body.

You actually are someone who treated him with respect and called Shawn out for being disrespectful to him in that match Davey wanted to dedicate to his sick sister, and Davey as well as the other wrestlers immediately gained more respect for you.

So, yeah, maybe he can fuck you.

"I don't mind it" he answered, a slight little smile on his face.

You're so glad he said that.

You walked up to him, only to leap onto him and wrap your legs around and behind his ass.

You also wrapped one of your arms behind his neck, holding onto him.

You basically jumped on him like you jumped on Billy.

Your other hand, however, was stroking and caressing up and down Davey's big chest.

"You're sooooooo biiiiiiiig" you purred at him. "You've got those big arms to hold me and rock me"

And those big arms of his wrapped around behind your back, he was holding you.

You then leaned your face into his and locked your lips on his, his eyes closing once you kissed him, your eyes closing when your lips ran into his.

He was trying to keep his balance when you kissed him, and the two of you began making out with one another like you made out with Shawn and Billy.

Your hand on his chest crawled up to the back of his head, your hand running through his short hair.

For a guy with short hair, he's hot and sexy. And British!

Though, hmmmmm, to bang him while he's standing up or sitting on the bench?

While the two of you were kissing one another, you rammed your tongue into his mouth, and he responded back, by what else?

Sliding his tongue into your mouth.

The two of yours tongues licked one another, exploring one another's mouths, the tip of your tongue licking and flicking the tip of his tongue as well as on top of his tongue.

He actually broke the kiss between the two of you, pulling your face away from his.

"Hey, y'wanna start fuckin' now?" Davey asked you. "I could suck yer tits and do all that stuff Billy and Shawn were doin' while we fuck"

(I didn't mean to mispell "your", he pronounced words like your "yer")

He has such a British accent on him, not a snooty, classy, posh one, but more along the lines of a Scottish accent.

"That's what I was wondering" you answered. "Should we do it while you're holding me and you're standing up or should we sit on the bench like Billy and Shawn?"

"Les do it while standin' up" Davey suggested. "You haven't done it with me holdin' you up in the air"

(I meant to mispell "let's", he had a pretty heavy British accent)

He's so big, much bigger than you are.

"I guess we could" you suggested, shrugging your shoulders and smiling.

But before the two of you could start fucking, Davey slid his hands to the front of his jeans, where he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.

He then moved his hands to his hips, letting the tips of his fingers slide down his jeans and underwear, and gripped onto the sides of his jeans.

He pulled his jeans and underwear down, all the way down until his erection escaped out of his underwear.

Once his erection was freed out of his underwear, he put his hands on your hips, where he slid you down enough until your pussy was sliding further down his shaft.

Your pussy hole was consuming and swallowing his cock, until it reached the very bottom.

When it reached the very bottom, he lifted you up his shaft, only for you to go down it again.

He proceeded to push his cock back and forth inside your pussy hole, whereas you bounced and rode up and down his shaft like the previous two men.

Your hands were wrapped behind his neck, fingers laced in each other, you were trying your best to hold onto him.

"Ohhhhhh yeahhhhhhhh!!!" you cried out, your eyes closed and mouth open.

"That's it, love, that's it" Davey purred, trying to sound sexy.

While he was fucking you, he leaned his face into your neck and gave several kisses to your front neck.

He sometimes slid his lips down the middle of your neck as well as let his lips glide down the left and right sides of your neck.

One thing you regret not doing with the previous two men as well as this current one is not letting your lips slide down their necks and kissing their necks, but...whatever.

And speaking of regrets, you wonder if you should've done some foreplay before the two of you started fucking each other.

When Davey wasn't burying his face in your neck, he also leaned his face into your face and tried kissing your lips, where you could feel his lips touch yours.

Your face leaned into his face, stretching your neck out, and you tried kissing his lips.

Even though it probably will be impossible to kiss him, there is something he wants to do with you.

He lifted you up a few inches above his head, so his lips could wrap around your nipple.

He leaned his face into your nipple, where he tried wrapping his mouth around your nipple and began trying to suck your nipple.

"Ohhhhh yeahhhhhhh Davey!" you cried out over him sucking your nipple.

He was surprisingly doing a good job trying to suck your nipple while fucking you and standing up.

He wishes he could pleasure your other breast while he's fucking you, and maybe he could.

Since your legs were wrapped tightly around his hips and you were holding onto him, he held you with his arm draped across the bottom of your back.

His other hand moved to your other breast, where he proceeded to squeeze it, sometimes even fondle and caress it, as well as tweak your nipple with his fingers.

"Ohhhhhh yeaaaaaaaahhh!" you moaned as he did this to you.

One of your hands behind his neck crawled up behind his head, your fingers roaming through his short, fuzzy hair.

His index and middle fingers pressed a bit on your nipple, squeezing that nipple.

He sucked this nipple until he was getting tired of it, then he moved his face over to the next nipple, his hand on your nipple moving out of the way to make room for his face.

He proceeded to wrap his lips around this nipple, sucking it like he was a baby breastfeeding.

He then wrapped one arm behind your back trying to hold you, whereas his other arm behind your back let his hand slide and glide up your skin until it stopped at the breast he previously sucked.

Feeling his hand touch your skin felt so good, tingles were traveling through your body as he did this.

When his hand met your breast he previously sucked, he caressed and squeezed it like it was a stress ball almost, fondling and playing with it.

He also let the pad of his index finger run around in circles over your areola, feeling its wetness courtesy of his saliva.

That index finger was joined by his thumb, that helped tweak and turn your nipple.

"Omigodddddddd!" you cried and whined as he was banging and fucking you. "Don't stop!"

And he won't stop until he finally cums.

Meanwhile, while Davey was fucking you, Sunny moved onto Billy Gunn and was cleaning his penis off with her mouth!

5 bucks says she's gonna do this to Davey after he cums and you fuck the next guy, especially considering there's rumors she and Davey have hooked up!

Davey's been fucking you for quite a long time now, such a long time, that finally, his cock released his sperm out of his penis slit and inside your pussy hole.

He held you closer once he had came inside you.

He let his penis just stay inside your pussy without thrusting in and out of it when he came.

And after he ejaculated, his hands behind your back moved to your hips, where he held your hips and lifted you off of his cock until his penis left your cunt.

His penis was now limp, flaccid and covered in cum.

[petty-revenge-stories]

But you highlighted the whole thing...

This is long and written on mobile, sorry in advance!

Soooo I've been reading this thread for over an hour and came across a story about working in groups for class projects and it hit me!

First and foremost I think we can all agree that group projects are garbage and 9 times out of 10 someone in your group wont carry their weight and those people should know no happiness for all of eternity.

Anyways, about 5 years ago I was in my sports communication class and the teacher was assigning class groups that we would be with for the rest of the semester. I was paired with 3 male partners all of which were already friends who were already pretty chummy and talkative in class, not a big deal right? WRONG, they were all dead weight. You would think I'd have been ripped, by the end of the semester, the way I carried them on my back. Group report after report it was like working by myself while they patted themselves on the back doing the bare minimum. I am not a confrontational person and I hate doing anything less than my best so I kept submitting high quality reports and we kept, AS A GROUP, getting good grades.

It's not that I saw my opportunity, it was more so I was DONE that final semester. I had been working two jobs with a full course load and we had just recieved our final assignment worth 30% of our grade. It was a decent size assignment -10 written page report and a live presentation. We split up the sections, me taking the bulk of writing because "handfullofskittles, you're just so much better at writing than.." you get the picture...

I looked at the project and the decent chunk I was willing to manage and told my group this time I really couldnt step in to work on other items other than what we discussed already for everyone's responsibilities. Everyone agreed and we went on our merry way. Now, with finals and other reports and work all creating the perfect anxiety storm, I told them we can keep the project going using a Google doc so we can make edits as we go along, also would allow me to keep an eye on their progess. Two days before the report and presentation are due, (mind you one of the 3 stooges volunteered to create all the slides for the report), and I see that they in total have added 3 paragraphs to my 7 page contribution to a 10pg report. I message them all asking where the rest is. I here nothing. I wait another 24 hrs. Surely they could not be THE LEECHES that I so feared them to be. I was wrong.

Its 8am and my class is at2 pm. No one is answering my calls and the report still is three pages short, my anxiety and need to do well take over. I scrap their paragraphs finish the paper and submit.

I get to class and see them all just laughing and joking in their seats, I'm furious, but keeping my cool. I ask them if all their phones were broken or if they had family emergencies. Not really but I wish, I told them about the extra three pages and how their paragraphs were unusable and I had to complete the report by myself. They all looked at me in confusion as they thought I had volunteered to write the ENTIRE 10pg report and the three of them would do the PowerPoint.... a PowerPoint of 8 slides mind you...... including an intro and end slide. Ha. Ha. Ha sobbing*

That class we also had to present. I dont practice for presentations but I know my topics well and I'm thypically the closer. So I put the report behind me and pray to God this powerpoint is at least substantial. They get the PowerPoint on the screen. The word communications is misspelled. This. is. a. communications. class.

I expected so little and was still disappointed

Seeing the mispelled word, I snapped. I had, had enough. I felt so defeated that my teacher would base my work off the work of these baboons. I did what I never thought I would do. I snitched. I like to think it was subtle, but who the fuck am I kidding. Immediately after we gave our presentation, I walked out, didnt stay for the rest of class, gone girl.

There are very few things in this world that we can control and I believe that the quality of work we do is one of them. I was not about to let these parasites take credit for my work and I did not want to be associated with the PowerPoint. So, I sent an email to my teacher that was similar to the following:

Me: dear insert teachers name, "Im reaching out about how embarrassed I am about the presentaion today. I want you to know i had no hand in the creation, but wanted to know if I could be graded solely on the parts on the paper I wrote on my own. (I attached the 10 page report, highlighted the whole thing except my partners names). I have attached and highlighted the sections I completed. Any section not highlighted was completed by my partners"

Teacher got back to me simply saying "but you highlighted the whole thing..."

Me "yup"

I guess it clicked with my teacher as I never recieved a direct email back and no concerns on me not contributing to the PowerPoint. I ended up receiving a 95 on the final reports and let's just say the 3partners were not too pleased with their final grades.

I never shared my grade with them, as I was afraid of confrontation, but I acted like I recieved a bad grade too and mentioned it may have been because we mispelled communication on the PowerPoint. All thing considered this is a COMMUNICATIONS CLASS!

(source) story by (/u/handfullofskittles)

[suzanneshannon]

A Gentle Introduction to Using a Docker Container as a Dev Environment

Sarcasm disclaimer: This article is mostly sarcasm. I do not think that I actually speak for Dylan Thomas and I would never encourage you to foist a light theme on people who don’t want it. No matter how wrong they may be.

When Dylan Thomas penned the words, “Do not go gentle into that good night,” he was talking about death. But if he were alive today, he might be talking about Linux containers. There is no way to know for sure because he passed away in 1953, but this is the internet, so I feel extremely confident speaking authoritatively on his behalf.

My confidence comes from a complete overestimation of my skills and intelligence coupled with the fact that I recently tried to configure a Docker container as my development environment. And I found myself raging against the dying of the light as Docker rejected every single attempt I made like I was me and it was King James screaming, “NOT IN MY HOUSE!”

Pain is an excellent teacher. And because I care about you and have no other ulterior motives, I want to use that experience to give you a “gentle” introduction to using a Docker container as a development environment. But first, let’s talk about whyyyyyyyyyyy you would ever want to do that.

kbutwhytho?

Close your eyes and picture this: a grown man dressed up like a fox.

Wait. No. Wrong scenario.

Instead, picture a project that contains not just your source code, but your entire development environment and all the dependencies and runtimes your app needs. You could then give that project to anyone anywhere (like the fox guy) and they could run your project without having to make a lick of configuration changes to their own environment.

This is exactly what Docker containers do. A Dockerfile defines an entire runtime environment with a single file. All you would need is a way to develop inside of that container.

Wait for it…

VS Code and Remote – Containers

VS Code has an extension called Remote – Containers that lets you load a project inside a Docker container and connect to it with VS Code. That’s some Inception-level stuff right there. (Did he make it out?! THE TALISMAN NEVER ACTUALLY STOPS SPINNING.) It’s easier to understand if we (and by “we” I mean you) look at it in action.

Adding a container to a project

Let’s say for a moment that you are on a high-end gaming PC that you built for your kids and then decided to keep if for yourself. I mean, why exactly do they deserve a new computer again? Oh, that’s right. They don’t. They can’t even take out the trash on Sundays even though you TELL THEM EVERY WEEK.

This is a fresh Windows machine with WSL2 and Docker installed, but that’s all. Were you to try and run a Node.js project on this machine, Powershell would tell you that it has absolutely no idea what you are reffering to and maybe you mispelled something. Which, in all fairness, you do suck at spelling. Remember that time in 4ᵗʰ grade when you got knocked out of the first round of the spelling bee because you couldn’t spell “fried.” FRYED? There’s no “Y” in there!

Now this is not a huge problem — you could always skip off and install Node.js. But let’s say for a second that you can’t be bothered to do that and you’re pretty sure that skipping is not something adults do.

Instead, we can configure this project to run in a container that already has Node.js installed. Now, as I’ve already discussed, I have no idea how to use Docker. I can barely use the microwave. Fortunately, VS Code will configure your project for you — to an extent.

From the Command Palette, there is an “Add Development Container Configuration Files…” command. This command looks at your project and tries to add the proper container definition.

In this case, VS Code knows I’ve got a Node project here, so I’ll just pick Node.js 14. Yes, I am aware that 12 is LTS right now, but it’s gonna be 14 in [checks watch] one month and I’m an early adopter, as is evidenced by my interest in container technology just now in 2020.

This will add a .devcontainer folder with some assets inside. One is a Dockerfile that contains the Node.js image that we’re going to use, and the other is a devcontainer.json that has some project level configuration going on.

Now, before we touch anything and break it all (we’ll get to that, trust me), we can select “Rebuild and Reopen in Container” from the Command Palette. This will restart VS Code and set about building the container. Once it completes (which can take a while the first time if you’re not on a high-end gaming PC that your kids will never know the joys of), the project will open inside of the container. VS Code is connected to the container, and you know that because it says so in the lower left-hand corner.

Now if we open the terminal in VS Code, Powershell is conspicously absent because we are not on Windows anymore, Dorthy. We are now in a Linux container. And we can both npm install and npm start in this magical land.

This is an Express App, so it should be running on port 3000. But if you try and visit that port, it won’t load. This is because we need to map a port in the container to 3000 on our localhost. As one does.

Fortunately, there is a UI for this.

The Remote Containers extension puts a “Remote Explorer” icon in the Action Bar. Which is on the left-hand side for you, but the right-hand side for me. Because I moved it and you should too.

There are three sections here, but look at the bottom one which says “Port Forwarding,” I’m not the sandwich with the most lettuce, but I’m pretty sure that’s what we want here. You can click on the “Forward a Port” and type “3000,” Now if we try and hit the app from the browser…

Mostly things, “just worked.” But the configuration is also quite simple. Let’s look at how we can start to customize this setup by automating some of the aspects of the project itself. Project specific configuration is done in the devcontainer.json file.

Automating project configuration

First off, we can automate the port forwarding by adding a forwardPorts variable and specifying 3000 as the value. We can also automate the npm install command by specifying the postCreateCommand property. And let’s face it, we could all stand to run AT LEAST one less npm install.

{   // ...   // Use 'forwardPorts' to make a list of ports inside the container available locally.   "forwardPorts": [3000],   // Use 'postCreateCommand' to run commands after the container is created.   "postCreateCommand": "npm install",   // ... }

Additionally, we can include VS Code extensions. The VS Code that runs in the Docker container does not automatically get every extension you have installed. You have to install them in the container, or just include them like we’re doing here.

Extensions like Prettier and ESLint are perfect for this kind of scenario. We can also take this opportunity to foist a light theme on everyone because it turns out that dark themes are worse for reading and comprehension. I feel like a prophet.

// For format details, see https://aka.ms/vscode-remote/devcontainer.json or this file's README at: // https://github.com/microsoft/vscode-dev-containers/tree/v0.128.0/containers/javascript-node-14 {   // ...   // Add the IDs of extensions you want installed when the container is created.   "extensions": [     "dbaeumer.vscode-eslint",     "esbenp.prettier-vscode",     "GitHub.github-vscode-theme"   ]   // ... }

If you’re wondering where to find those extension ID’s, they come up in intellisense (Ctrl/Cmd + Shift) if you have them installed. If not, search the extension marketplace, right-click the extension and say “Copy extension ID.” Or even better, just select “Add to devcontainer.json.”

By default, the Node.js container that VS Code gives you has things like git and cURL already installed. What it doesn’t have, is “cowsay,” And we can’t have a Linux environment without cowsay. That’s in the Linux bi-laws (it’s not). I don’t make the rules. We need to customize this container to add that.

Automating environment configuration

This is where things went off the rails for me. In order to add software to a development container, you have to edit the Dockerfile. And Linux has no tolerance for your shenanigans or mistakes.

The base Docker container that you get with the container configurations in VS Code is Debian Linux. Debian Linux uses the apt-get dependency manager.

apt-get install cowsay

We can add this to the end of the Dockerfile. Whenever you install something from apt-get, run an apt-get update first. This command updates the list of packages and package repos so that you have the most current list cached. If you don’t do this, the container build will fail and tell you that it can’t find “cowsay.”

# To fully customize the contents of this image, use the following Dockerfile instead: # https://github.com/microsoft/vscode-dev-containers/tree/v0.128.0/containers/javascript-node-14/.devcontainer/Dockerfile FROM mcr.microsoft.com/vscode/devcontainers/javascript-node:0-14 # ** Install additional packages ** RUN apt-get update \   && apt-get -y install cowsay

A few things to note here…

That RUN command is a Docker thing and it creates a new “layer.” Layers are how the container knows what has changed and what in the container needs to be updated when you rebuild it. They’re kind of like cake layers except that you don’t want a lot of them because enormous cakes are awesome. Enormous containers are not. You should try and keep related logic together in the same RUN command so that you don’t create unnecessary layers.

That \ denotes a line break at the end of a line. You need it for multi-line commands. Leave it off and you will know the pain of many failed Docker builds.

The && is how you add an additional command to the RUN line. For the love of god, don’t forget that \ on the previous line.

The -y flag is important because by default, apt-get is going to prompt you to ensure you really want to install what you just tried to install. This will cause the container build to fail because there is nobody there to say Y or N. The -y flag is shorthand for “don’t bother me with your silly confirmation prompts”. Apparently everyone is supposed to know this already. I didn’t know it until about four hours ago. 

Use the command prompt to select “Rebuild Container”…

And, just like that…

It doesn’t work.

This the first lesson in what I like to call, “Linux Vertigo.” There are so many distributions of Linux and they don’t all handle things the same way. It can be difficult to figure out why things work in one place (Mac, WSL2) and don’t work in others. The reason why “cowsay” isn’t available, is that Debian puts “cowsay” in /usr/games, which is not included in the PATH environment variable.

One solution would be to add it to the PATH in the Dockerfile. Like this…

FROM mcr.microsoft.com/vscode/devcontainers/javascript-node:0-14 RUN apt-get update \   && apt-get -y install cowsay ENV PATH="/usr/games:${PATH}"

EXCELLENT. We’re solving real problems here, folks. People like cow one-liners. I bullieve I herd that somewhere.

To summarize, project configuration (forwarding ports, installing project depedencies, ect) is done in the “devcontainer.json” and enviornment configuration (installing software) is done in the “Dockerfile.” Now let’s get brave and try something a little more edgy.

Advanced configuration

Let’s say for a moment that you have a gorgeous, glammed out terminal setup that you really want to put in the container as well. I mean, just because you are developing in a container doesn’t mean that your terminal has to be boring. But you also wouldn’t want to reconfigure your pretentious zsh setup for every project that you open. Can we automate that too? Let’s find out.

Fortunately, zsh is already installed in the image that you get. The only trouble is that it’s not the default shell when the container opens. There are a lot of ways that you can make zsh the default shell in a normal Docker scenario, but none of them will work here. This is because you have no control over the way the container is built.

Instead, look again to the trusty devcontainer.json file. In it, there is a "settings" block. In fact, there is a line already there showing you that the default terminal is set to "/bin/bash". Change that to "/bin/zsh".

// Set *default* container specific settings.json values on container create. "settings": {   "terminal.integrated.shell.linux": "/bin/zsh" }

By the way, you can set ANY VS Code setting there. Like, you know, moving the sidebar to the right-hand side. There – I fixed it for you.

// Set default container specific settings.json values on container create. "settings": { "terminal.integrated.shell.linux": "/bin/zsh", "workbench.sideBar.location": "right" },

And how about those pretentious plugins that make you better than everyone else? For those you are going to need your .zshrc file. The container already has oh-my-zsh in it, and it’s in the “root” folder. You just need to make sure you set the path to ZSH at the top of the .zshrc so that it points to root. Like this…

# Path to your oh-my-zsh installation. export ZSH="/root/.oh-my-zsh" 
 # Set name of the theme to load --- if set to "random", it will # load a random theme each time oh-my-zsh is loaded, in which case, # to know which specific one was loaded, run: echo $RANDOM_THEME # See https://github.com/ohmyzsh/ohmyzsh/wiki/Themes ZSH_THEME="cloud" 
 # Which plugins would you like to load? plugins=(zsh-autosuggestions nvm git) 
 source $ZSH/oh-my-zsh.sh

Then you can copy in that sexy .zshrc file to the root folder in the Dockerfile. I put that .zshrc file in the .devcontainer folder in my project.

COPY .zshrc /root/.zshrc

And if you need to download a plugin before you install it, do that in the Dockerfile with a RUN command. Just remember to group all of these into one command since each RUN is a new layer. You are nearly a container expert now. Next step is to write a blog post about it and instruct people on the ways of Docker like you invented the thing.

RUN git clone https://github.com/zsh-users/zsh-autosuggestions ${ZSH_CUSTOM:-~/.oh-my-zsh/custom}/plugins/zsh-autosuggestions

Look at the beautiful terminal! Behold the colors! The git plugin which tells you the branch and adds a lightning emoji! Nothing says, “I know what I’m doing” like a customized terminal. I like to take mine to Starbucks and just let people see it in action and wonder if I’m a celebrity.

Go gently

Hopefully you made it to this point and thought, “Geez, this guy is seriously overreacting. This is not that hard.” If so, I have successfully saved you. You are welcome. No need to thank me. Yes, I do have an Amazon wish list.

For more information on Remote Containers, including how to do things like add a database or use Docker Compose, check out the official Remote Container docs, which provide much more clarity with 100% less neurotic commentary.

The post A Gentle Introduction to Using a Docker Container as a Dev Environment appeared first on CSS-Tricks.

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A Gentle Introduction to Using a Docker Container as a Dev Environment published first on https://deskbysnafu.tumblr.com/

[caxvidanya]

Critique of "footnote to Youth" by Jose Garcia Villa

The story entitled Footnote to youth was written by a filipino poet named Jose Garcia Villa. Based on my own opinion and my own understatement the story served as an eye opener to the teenagers all over the world who may have experienced the same fate as the main character in the story or it may be Villa is trying to give a mesaage/warning to the teenagers who still haven’t commited a wrong move/choices in life that later on they would regret.

The story started when a 17 year old boy was debating to himself in what approach should he use to tell his father about a girl named teang Which he considered as the love of his life, and his decison to enter the world of marriage in an early age. He thought to himself the fact that he was already 17 and his features are more manlier than ever is that he’s old enough to make the right decision in his life and as for that he even didn’t even think twice even when his father asked him a question. (if he must really marry?) He resented his father for asking that question but even if his father wants to say something, It’s not like he can change dodong’s decision because dodong really wants to marry teang for Love.

The story still continues Into 9 months later when Teang was giving birth to their first child and Dodong cannot stand to hear teang cry in pain, so he went outside to escape the noises. Later by later Dodong was starting to feel strange, troubled and Uncomfortable. It’s like the anxiety and pressure of being a father is slowly eating him, when his mother called up he only stared at her, few moments his father joined to call his name. He was embarrased to look them straight in their eyes but all of those things slowly vanished when the voices of his parents flowed into his ears and gave him courage/confidence to face his responsibilities but that doesn’t mean the feeling of remorsefulness is totally gone it still lingers to the back of dodong’s mind. Many years have passed children are still coming along, and Together dodong and teang begins to regret everything until their first child ask dodong if he could marry but instead of saying anything, dodong just looked at his son with eyes full of sorrow he felt sorry for the young boy it’s as if he can see his younger self who committed the same mistake.

I literally don’t know what approach to used but I have two in mind it maybe psychological because dodong’s life was affected because of his lack of decision making, and it can also be marxism because of the status of dodong’s family. I really like the story, It tells us to be smart in every decisions we make because it affects our lives. It’s like the author is trying to tell us to not be blinded by the word “LOVE” in our young age, all we have to do is have some fun and enjoy life to the fullest by thinking the situations and opportunities wisely.

Honestly at first I thought that the story was really twisted because the father of dodong didn’t react like a father would do. And by the means a father would react he would yell at you and calls you stupid for making that choice, but back to the point the father should’ve talked to dodong and told his story to him so that dodong can reflect on him.

But aside from content inside the story there are some things I’m really concerned with, First is the spellings there are some parts where I would just stop reading and stare at the word just like Teang’s name when she gave birth it was mispelled into (teanf) and the word (neen) in teang’s point of view which I’m pretty sure it should be Been. then there are the punctuation marks that appears out of knowhere and those quick change of point of views where sometimes I would really stop and read it back just to understand who is talking.

You can’t blame me if I told you that the story is in shambles because the part/time skips too much. It didn’t even state the love story where dodong and teang met and fell inlove in the first place. there’s just too much question why dodong is too determine to marry teang in the first place. I know it’s stated because of love but still there are a lot of things lacking in the story things that would really confuse the reader, But it doesn’t mean the moral and the message of the story isn’t there.

It may be messy, It may be lacking something but everything the author wants too share is inside that piece. even if it has flaws but you can never deny this story is made for us teenagers to think wisely and be serious with our future because once it has been done It’s permanent, We all know we can never go back to the time when we don’t have regrets.

[watachan]

My speculations about Armin...

Warning, this deals with things present in episode 35 of My Candy Love. You gotta play it before reading.

Thank you!!

Also, keep in mind I’m just a fan laying out some ideas here. Don’t take this too seriously. And that english is not my native language. Sorry for any mispelled words and weird expressions.

I’d first like to say my “crush boy” is Armin, so I may have more infos that others (or not, I don’t know)

If you have finished episode 35, you know that at the end, Armin is arrested by the police. At this point, we don’t know why, but we can guess.

During episode 34 and 35, he helps Candy to undertsand the weird attitude of Iris. It is revealed she is blackmailed, with very intimate photos Iris wouldn’t want the world to know about (btw, I see not only a plot for the narration here but also a warning to young girls about this subject) During our investigation, Armin helps with some hacking techniques he says himself he developped for a while. In the french version, it’s more clear, he says his interest in hacking is pretty new.

I don’t know how fast you can acquire hacking techniques, but anyway, let’s say Armin has been practising for a few weeks.

Thanks to him, we stop the blackmailer (and without surprise it’s Charlotte) from extorting money from Iris and make her leave Iris alone.

Now, let’s get to the speculations part. I have a few ideas of who called the police on Armin.

As Armin said, he hacked Iris’ emails and the profils on the dating app. And hacking is ILLEGAL. This actually leads me for a few theories:

1) When with Armin confronting Charlotte, he said he developped hacking skills. Ultimately, Charlotte is left horrified of her little vengeance being known and leaves. I’ve seen someone else point it out: what if once she was alone, Charlotte realised she could get back to Armin? He had just stated himself he was a hacker, and surely a girl capable of blackmailing someone as sweet and kind as Iris for a (cheating) boy, I believe she wouldn’t even mind reporting Armin to get back at him (and Candy)

This theory is wobbly for a reason tho: the police arrived just after the confrontation, or so it seems. So it’s debatable, because if it’s actually Charlotte, it means she is not done with Iris and Candy yet. And that could just make things so much worse!

2) During the episode, Alexy was distressed over Armin, because they didn’t spend as much time together as before. My Candy was worried it was because of her (since she’s Armin’s girlfriend) and if this could affect her friendship with Alexy. During the second night of investigation, Alexy confronted Armin about it (at the worst moment, Armin was supposed to come and help) and knowing Armin wanted to go but his twin would not let him, maybe they had an argument.

Now, I see a lot this theory about the biological mom of the twins coming back someway. I actually think it could be the other way around. My theory about that is that Armin, for some reason, wants to know who their biological mom is, but Alexy doesn’t care. They are happy with their parents, it’s well-known, so I think Alexy would be angry at his twin for trying to search for a woman which abandoned them. And this would make more sense with Armin’s new hacking skills. Think about it: maybe he can’t get the infos he needs (before 18, you need the approval of your adoptive parents (at least in France)) and he’s too impatient for some reason. I believe Armin can get so obssessed with something he loses track of things. And that would be why he practises hacking, to get into the hospital’s or social services’ data base and get the name of his mom. Or maybe he already did, the hacking was found and retracing the source is probably not that difficult for police these days.

Anyway, either it’s that, or something more... distrurbing if I can say. And I would be SO angry at the staff for pulling this out but: what if Alexy reported his brother to stop him? This is a stretch, one I really don’t want to believe, but if your family’s stability and happiness was at stack, how far would you go to stop that? Let’s imagine Alexy did report him, thinking it would save their family and maybe wake his brother up, about the good life they have without this mom that never searched for them. Maybe Alexy thought he’d just get a slap on the wrist, both from the police and their parents, maybe his computer would be taken away so no more games and voilà! Family still happy, twins back together and no more geeking for Armin. Wouldn’t that be good? I don’t believe Alexy is this naive but sometimes, you blind yourself from the reality. Either way, Armin is NOT gonna be happy.

Now, let’s imagine Alexy reported his brother, thinking Armin had not hacked the data base yet... and let’s say Armin already did! (with Iris’ urgent situation, I believe he wouldn’t have told Candy about it, Iris was the priority) Between “planning” and “doing”, the law is not the same (I’m no lawyer but it seems logical) so basically, this could mean BIG troubles for Armin. And that would also mean a breaking between the brothers. One that could potentially never heal...

With all honesty, I believe I’m searching to far about this, but I tend to think of the worst a lot, and THIS is the worst I can think of...

3) During the episode, we heard from Priya that she and Armin (at least for me) planned a little something to calm down Amber’s ego. With help of Nathaniel, they discovered Amber has a “box of shame” of letters of her applications as model being rejected. It’s not mentioned how many, but for Amber to be this horrified for this to be known, I believe there’s 4 or more. Anyway, I don’t know about the other guys, but for me Armin is the one which holds the box at the moment.

Let’s say Amber talked to her mom, or by any chance, her mom discovered the box has been stolen. Or let’s even imagine the worst timing possible: just today, Amber received a POSITIVE response this time and feels like she doesn’t have to be scared of the other letters.

This is my last theory: Amber (or her mom) called the police to report the theft of the box. In this case, I believe it’s more to scare Armin (and maybe Candy) because I don’t believe any of these women would go to court to say the box was full of rejection letters. Especially knowing how this woman values appearances and what people believe of you over security or confort of the mind, as seen in the Nathaniel arc. If anything, I believe she would have rather let her son die under his father’s fists than do something. This is most likely not the way the game is going, but I thought it was coherent enough to mention.

Voilà! That’s my speculations so far.

I believe Armin’s hacking moments are the reason he was arrested. We’ll have to wait and see what’s the problem, and I hope it’s not too serious. I was actually excited to get to Armin and Alexy’s arc of the game, but now... I’m not so sure I wanna ._.

Please, comment with your own theories and what you think of mine’s!