Octavius Ra

Octavius Ra International funny guy

Student Pours Coffee Over the New Black Classmate– Unaware He’s a Taekwondo Champion...The cafeteria at Lincoln High Sch...
10/10/2025

Student Pours Coffee Over the New Black Classmate– Unaware He’s a Taekwondo Champion...
The cafeteria at Lincoln High School in Chicago was alive with chatter as students crowded around for their morning drinks and bagels. Among them was Marcus Johnson, a sixteen-year-old new arrival from Atlanta. Marcus was tall, lean, and carried himself with quiet confidence. He had moved in with his aunt after his mother accepted a demanding nursing job that kept her traveling across the country. While Marcus was no stranger to switching schools, he knew all too well that being the “new kid” often meant attracting the wrong kind of attention.
With a carton of milk and a small breakfast sandwich balanced on his tray, Marcus was making his way through the bustling cafeteria when a voice cut through the noise.
“Well, well, look who’s here—the new guy,” sneered Tyler Brooks, a notorious troublemaker known for tormenting anyone who didn’t fit his idea of “cool.” Flanked by two friends, Tyler strutted toward Marcus with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.
Marcus kept walking, choosing not to engage. But Tyler wasn’t the type to be ignored. As Marcus reached a nearby table, Tyler stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
“You think you can just walk in here like you own the place? Nah, man. We run things here,” Tyler mocked, his friends chuckling behind him.
Marcus’s calm brown eyes met Tyler’s, but he didn’t say a word. That silence only infuriated Tyler more. Then, in a flash meant to embarrass, Tyler tipped the coffee cup and dumped it all over Marcus’s shirt.
The room fell silent for a moment. Gasps broke out. Students stared, unsure whether to laugh or look away. The hot liquid soaked through Marcus’s clothes, dripping onto the floor beneath him.
“Welcome to Lincoln High, rookie,” Tyler said with a smirk, tossing the empty cup aside.
Marcus clenched his fists, feeling the burn on his chest. Every instinct screamed at him to retaliate, but years of discipline held him back. Eight years of Taekwondo training had taught him more than just how to fight. He was a black belt, a regional champion. And above all, his coach had drilled one lesson into him: Taekwondo is for self-defense, never for re:ve:nge.
He took a deep breath, wiped at his shirt, and walked away without a word. But as he left the cafeteria, one thought echoed in his mind: This isn’t over.
What Marcus didn’t know was that the incident would spark a chain of events that would test not only his self-control but also reveal the strength of his character in front of the entire school..To be continued in C0mments 👇

A family trip turned into a heartbreaking tragedy, two young lives gone too soon...See more
10/10/2025

A family trip turned into a heartbreaking tragedy, two young lives gone too soon...See more

After receiving Karoline Leavitt’s subtle and convincing reply, Nancy Pelosi lost her temper and spoke up, and when she ...
10/10/2025

After receiving Karoline Leavitt’s subtle and convincing reply, Nancy Pelosi lost her temper and spoke up, and when she shared the reason, everyone had no doubts.. (check in first comment👇)

check in first comment👇
10/10/2025

check in first comment👇

My HOA President Fined Me for My Lawn — So I Made Sure He’d Never Stop Checking It===Gregory, the clipboard-wielding tyr...
10/10/2025

My HOA President Fined Me for My Lawn — So I Made Sure He’d Never Stop Checking It
===
Gregory, the clipboard-wielding tyrant of our HOA, had no idea what he was getting himself into when he slapped me with a fine for letting my grass grow half an inch too long. If he wanted a battle, I’d give him one by creating a lawn so outrageous, yet flawlessly within the rules, that he’d wish he’d never started this fight.
For more than two decades, my neighborhood was the sort of place where people could sit on their porches with a cup of tea, wave to the mailman, and exchange a friendly nod with whoever walked their dog down the street. Things weren’t perfect, but they were calm. Predictable. Peaceful.
That was before Gregory Mayfield got his hands on the HOA presidency.
Gregory. Where do I even begin? He’s the type of man who probably irons his socks, wears polos with the collars perpetually popped, and believes his clipboard is a symbol of divine authority. Mid-fifties, perpetually squinting, and about as approachable as a tax auditor, Gregory strutted around like the neighborhood was his personal kingdom.
And unfortunately for me, I happened to live in his kingdom.
Now, I’ve lived in this house for twenty-five years. I raised three kids here, buried my husband here, and planted every single flower in this garden myself. I learned a long time ago that life throws plenty of nonsense at you, and the only way through is to laugh, bend the rules when you can, and never—never—let someone like Gregory Mayfield push you around.
But Gregory clearly hadn’t learned that lesson.
It all started last week.
I was enjoying a breezy afternoon on my porch, watching the begonias open their petals, when I spotted Gregory marching up the driveway. Clipboard in one hand, pen in the other, jaw set like a man about to deliver life-altering news.
“Oh, Lord,” I muttered, bracing myself.
He didn’t even greet me. Just stopped at the bottom of my steps, looked down his nose, and said, “Mrs. Callahan, I regret to inform you that your property has violated HOA standards.”
I blinked at him. “What violation could you possibly be talking about?”
Gregory flipped through his papers like a prosecutor about to present evidence. “Your lawn is half an inch too long. HOA standards clearly state that grass height may not exceed three inches. Yours measured three and a half.”
For a moment, I thought he was joking. “Half an inch?” I repeated slowly, as though he’d said the moon had fallen into my yard.
“Yes.” His voice was clipped, smug.
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When none came, I forced a smile. “Thank you for the heads-up, Gregory. I’ll be sure to mow that extra half-inch tomorrow.”
He gave me a curt nod, scribbled something onto his clipboard like he’d just solved a murder case, and walked off.
The minute he was out of earshot, my smile dropped. Inside, I was boiling. Half an inch. Half! I had survived diaper blowouts, PTA politics, and a husband who once tried roasting marshmallows with a blowtorch, but somehow, this man thought I was going to cower because of a clipboard and a ruler?
No. Not a chance.
That evening, as I sat in my armchair staring at the walls, an idea started brewing. Gregory loved quoting that ridiculous HOA handbook. Fine. If he wanted me to play by the rules, I would play. But I’d make sure to play better.... (continue reading in the 1st comment)

With heavy hearts, we announce the passing of this elegant lady who touched so many hearts 💔 Full story below:
10/09/2025

With heavy hearts, we announce the passing of this elegant lady who touched so many hearts 💔 Full story below:

Gus wandered off from his family\'s sheep station in outback South Australia 10 days ago and has not been seen since.
10/09/2025

Gus wandered off from his family\'s sheep station in outback South Australia 10 days ago and has not been seen since.

Details in the Comments ⬇️
10/09/2025

Details in the Comments ⬇️

I'm 35F, and I really thought I'd found the one. Gavin (39M) was charming, gentle, the kind of guy who made you feel see...
10/09/2025

I'm 35F, and I really thought I'd found the one. Gavin (39M) was charming, gentle, the kind of guy who made you feel seen. We met at a friend's barbecue — he told me I had "eyes that hold stories."
He said he was divorced from a "TOXIC" ex and that he still helped raise her adopted daughter, Mila — a 6-year-old battling leukemia.
He claimed he was still paying for her chemo even after the split. That melted me. A man who stayed loyal to a sick child he didn't share DNA with? I thought I'd hit the jackpot.
For a year, everything was perfect — coffee at my desk, goodnight calls, "sweetheart" texts. Then he started pulling away.
One night, I found him staring at his phone, eyes red.
"It's Mila," he said. "THE CHEMO ISN'T WORKING! They're trying something new, but insurance won't cover it. It's... $18,000."
I had savings from my parents' inheritance. Without thinking, I wired him the money.
He kissed my hands, told me I was "SAVING A LIFE." For weeks, I believed I was.
Whenever I asked about Mila, he'd get vague. "She's weak, honey, can't take visitors right now." Or "her immune system's shot — her mom's keeping her isolated."
One night I suggested sending her a card. His face went pale. "LET'S NOT OVERWHELM HER, OKAY?! SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT YOU — TOO MUCH STRESS COULD MAKE HER WORSE!"
It stung, but I understood.
Yet, he'd go out often "to meet with Mila's doctors" in another state and sometimes he'd come back smelling like cologne I didn't wear.
So one evening, when Gavin said he was "flying to New York for a few days for Mila's treatment," I did something I'd never done before: I opened his laptop.
And what I found in his email inbox, full of correspondence, made MY BLOOD RUN COLD.⬇️⬇️⬇️

It breaks our hearts to share the news about Eric Dane... sending prayers 💔
10/09/2025

It breaks our hearts to share the news about Eric Dane... sending prayers 💔

🤯 SPEECHLESS! Photos of Lizzo looking like a "DIFFERENT PERSON" after weight loss are in the comments below. 👇.
10/09/2025

🤯 SPEECHLESS! Photos of Lizzo looking like a "DIFFERENT PERSON" after weight loss are in the comments below. 👇.

Four months ago, I gave birth to my son. My husband never got to meet him because cancer took him when I was five months...
10/09/2025

Four months ago, I gave birth to my son. My husband never got to meet him because cancer took him when I was five months pregnant.
My life is midnight feedings, diapers, pumping, crying, and three hours of sleep. To keep us afloat, I clean an office downtown before the workday starts. Four hours a day. Just enough for rent and diapers. While I'm gone, my late husband's mom watches the baby.
One icy morning after my shift, on my way home, I heard it — a cry. Not a cat, not a puppy. A baby. Thin, desperate. I followed it to a bench near the bus stop.
There, in a flimsy blanket, was a newborn. Face red from screaming. Alone.
My hands shook as I scooped him up. He was freezing, starving. I ran home. My MIL gasped when I came. I explained between breaths.
I breastfed him beside my son, tears dripping onto his tiny head. But we knew — we had to call the police. Social services took him, and I sent along diapers, wipes, and bottles of pumped milk.
The next day, my phone rang. A deep male voice: "Is this Miranda? You found the baby?"
"Yes."
"You need to meet me today at 4. Write the address down."
When I saw the address, my blood ran cold. It was MY office building.
Why would they be calling me? Was I in trouble for feeding the baby? Would they fire me for taking him home instead of calling immediately?
At 4 sharp, a guard escorted me upstairs. The office smelled of leather and power. Behind a massive desk sat a silver-haired man.
He didn't introduce himself. He just said: "Sit." ⬇️

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