I don't know much about the Beach Boys, and tbf Mike Love seems like a commercialist jerk with some unpleasant beliefs. But it seems like that therapist who locked the Brian guy in an abusive conservatorship is much worse, right? I don't even know if Love and Stamos could have made that trainwreckord if Brian had been getting actual help for his mental illness. (Disclosure: in addition to not knowing much about the Beach Boys, I don't know much about treating mental illness, let alone treating them in the 20th century. So that might be an oversimplification).
Yet not just Todd, but the music internet at large, say he's the worst guy associated with the Beach Boys. I get that the links to Manson are tertiary, and it's unfair to say he's somehow in or a part of the Beach Boys, but is it just because Mike is so outspokenly mean and nasty and gross? Are there things omitted from the TW video? Any context from Beach Boys fans or more learned music historians would be appreciated.

My journey towards my first injection of Zepbound the Friday before last started at an age earlier than I can remember. I was told that I would finish bottles twice as fast as my brother and sisters did and that was just the beginning. I can remember my first official diet at the age of 10 and can recall the allowances given by Weight Watchers to this day, 6 protein, 5 starch, 5 dairy, 3 fats, and 3 fruits, with unlimited servings of vegetables. At the time this was the accepted way of doing things and the family followed this plan together. We would calculate these portions and buy frozen meals that had these values written on the side. I never would have known that this would be the start of a lifelong battle, where I was accepted and validated while losing weight, dismissed and ridiculed when I wasn’t. In my house weight loss was looked at as a matter of willpower and my father would take me to the grocery store where we would open the bakery cabinet and breathe in the scents of the muffins, brownies, and other pastries without giving in the the temptation of eating any of them. The yo-yoing of my weight started then and continued through 5 years ago, when I was larger than ever and found my way to a weight loss clinic that restricted calories down to 800 a day before building back up over time, mostly through the use of bars and shakes, alongside a meal of protein and veggies. Just like in the past I was able to shed weight on command with a restrictive system, eventually losing 140 pounds, which brought me from 388 down to 248. This was by far the largest loss of my life, having had losses of 90, 75, and multiple losses in the 30-50 range. This time it felt different, but the binge eating at night came back every time I would get to the 250 range. Like clockwork I would creep up and the nurse practitioner would ask if I wanted to try a medication to help and instantly I would take offense and lose the 15 pounds that crept back on, realizing along the way that I needed someone to doubt me, that I needed someone to not believe in me to get back on track. Through this entire journey I had told every person involved that I would be impressed if they could help me keep myself within a 15 pound range for over a year. This method came close but it was always 15 up and 15 down, cycling nearly every other month. This epiphany was met with curiosity and I eventually was referred to a mindful nutritionist that focused on talking through my binge eating issues and removing the good vs. bad labels that I placed on each food my entire life as it relates to food. It took some time to get on their calendar and by then I had risen to 270 pounds. I started this new part of the journey barely eating any real foods and over time I incorporated foods into my life, while removing the labels associated with them. My weight crept up, but I knew this was part of the plan as I judged less and shamed myself even less. I knew this as I had taken up zen meditation over the past few years and along the way I noticed a voice in my head, that voice used my mother’s nickname for me and whenever clothes started to tighten I would hear this admonition, and then one day I realized that I was saying these shame ridden insult out loud to myself. Over the course of a year I reduced my binge eating considerably and accepted more foods into my life. I also noticed that I would often tell my children that “I couldn’t be trusted” with his food and that food and over time I stopped doing these things, both to my benefit and their’s, as the parentification wasn’t good for either of us. Despite all of this I still continued to see the numbers climb, but didn’t weigh myself and felt better than I ever had at such a high weight. As I went past the 300 mark the guilt wasn’t there and the shame was lessened to a a degree I couldn’t imagine. Along this path I believed that the more self acceptance I could show, the less shame I would feel, and in turn I would eat only one hungry, at least eventually. My weight stabilized and I thought I was in my way,but my clothes kept getting tighter, bit by bit over time. At my next physical my doctor looked at my weight and immediately went to suggesting medication. As I tried to explain my work with my nutritionist he was dismissive and kept referring to the work I was doing as being on a diet, which I had refused to do. I was incorporating all foods in my life while not binging and although I physically didn’t feel great, I was proud of the mental place I was in. It was at this time that I began a 4-5 month dialogue between my doctor and my nutritionist. Talking about my goals, fears, and everything in between. I had become comfortable in a bigger body and accepting of it, however I was starting to notice the effect on my psyche, especially at work when I had to present and speak publicly or on camera. I came to the conclusion that I just wanted to be able to exercise regularly and buy clothes at a regular store, staying at XXL sizes or below. My nutritionist was along for the ride and while she never had a patient on Zepbound her approval meant the world to me as I had my doctor place the prescription in at the pharmacy. It was another 2 months before I asked them to fill it and I eventually had it delivered and in my fridge. I had been dismissive of everyone who had bariatric surgery and other interventions, for they didn’t have the “willpower” that I had to lose weight on command. Swallowing my pride I injected myself 11 days ago not knowing what to expect. The injection instead served as admission that I was no better than anyone else and that I could accept medical intervention for something that I just couldn’t solve in any way. After the injection I experienced a profound moment where I went to the pantry prior to a Zoom panel discussion that would have 400 people on it. In this moment I realized that I always came here prior to speaking publicly, it his time was different. I realized I wasn’t hungry and I also realized that my anxiety was lessened in a way far beyond my appetite and impulses. In the 11 days since I have come to terms with the fact that I suffered from anxiety deeper than I ever knew and this new medication made that completely clear. I now move forward hoping to stay in XXL or lower, but fearful that without this medication my anxiety will come back, with my impulsive eating right behind. I then come back to the fact that I will continue the meditation practice, exercise routine, and self acceptance tools that I’ve worked on diligently over the years to guide my path. I don’t know where this journey will take me, but I am glad that I was able to share this publicly for the first time here on Reddit

This was a long time ago. He was some guy, who I don’t think was from the US. I don’t remember what country he was from. He was a huge jerk. I remember in the final round he finished early, while the other chef was struggling, so he started making fun of the other contestant by counting down the last 10 seconds. Sadly, although he was a jerk, he was the better chef and he won. Does anyone remember this guy?

Hey everyone, I have recently been laid off after 10 years working for a well known tech company working in IT. they took me in the beginning of my degree so I didn't finish it. All I learned until today was self study.
As I'm rethinking my career at 35, I wanted to get into coding. The 2 options in front of me are Web Development and iOS, and my heart belongs to the latter. From my research so far, it seems like webdev is more newbie friendly than iOS, due to complexity of the subject and workplaces that are willing to hire post bootcamp students.
My question to you is, given I believe in my autodidactic skills, would investing a few months going through iOS training, would I be able to find a job? Is now a good time to start (seems like junior developers are struggling more than ever)? Any advice would be greatly appreciated!

For the past couple months I've been hearing knocking on my door. I'll just be sitting in my room and I'll hear about 2 knocks on my door. At first I thought it was my brother as he was home at the time. But when I opened the door there was nobody there. I brushed it off as just me hearing things, but its been happening repeatedly, even while I'm the only one home. I know its not that I'm hearing things as me and my sister were goofing off and there was knocking on my door. I thought it was just my brother telling us to be quiet but he was down stairs the whole time. I also hear people walking up and down the stairs, this normally happens when I'm the only one home. This started happening last month as I heard talking and footsteps downstairs when I was doing my laundry. I assumed my sister missed the bus, so I walked around and called out her name but she was nowhere to be found. This has happened repeatedly every time I'm home alone. It is pretty annoying but its not bothering me so I'm chill with it happening. But it is annoying when barely anyone believes you because only me and my sister have heard the knocking and only I've heard the commotion going on downstairs. Any clue what this might be?

As a worship leader within more theologically conservative circles of Christianity, I grew up singing Above All 'cause it sounded nice, but was told that we're going to stop doing it because it's messaging isn't Biblical (alla Matt Chandler getting mad at the rose illustration).
I've been revisiting some of the old classic worship songs and Above All came up on my Spotify Radio. I decided to give it a listen, just to enjoy nostalgia, but came away thinking that it actually isn't that bad. I mean, no one could disagree with the verse structure: He is above all powers, kings, creation, wealth, wisdom, etc. etc; and the beginning of the chorus is merely describing the Passion narrative, including the fact He was rejected by men and the Father turned away.
Of course, the point of contention is the final line: "like a rose trampled on the ground: You took the fall and thought of me above all."
I think the simile is not well crafted, especially when you consider the cadence of the song. You can't really tell if "like a rose" is referring about the first half of the chorus or the final line, but for our sake, let's assume the line is referring to his rejected and lonely nature at His death. This means we can take a look at the final line isolated, with nothing else in the song holding it up.
Is it actually wrong? To many of my fellow theologically conservative Christians, they would say, "of course it is! Christ's primary goal was to glorify the Father, and therefore could not have thought of us above all else."
But I pose to you that the reason my brothers and sisters do not like this song is precisely the reason why this line actually works. Christ's primary goal was indeed, in the hour of His death, "that the Son may glorify [the Father]" (John 17:1); but in what way is God glorified? Jesus follows this up in the High Priestly Prayer:
"...so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do." (John 17:1b-4)
The work Christ came to do, of course, we can understand as the Father's direction in Christ's ministry and sacrifice. So Christ glorifies God by following what He says, and according to this prayer, an express desire of God is to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. I don't think it's actually that far off to say that Christ definitely had us in mind when on the Cross, because God's glorification is tied to salvation of the elect (no matter how one defines election), and that the foreknowledge of God (through His omniscience) would've foreknown those who accepted the gift of salvation (again, no matter how one defines this).
So Above All is at worst, a repetitive song with a poorly crafted metaphor, and at best, a worship song that I think we could sing in specific contexts.
What do you think?

For those who don’t know- this is my mha oc, she’s bakugo’s sister not daughter! She shared the same mannerisms as her brother but she’s more levelheaded than he is. If she hates you she has a genuine reason.
(The last image was posted before in another pose but figured I should add it here too :3)

Me (19M) and my younger sister (17F) both live at home with both our parents, along with my girlfriend, my older sister and my younger brother. My older sister and girlfriend both agree with me when it comes to disliking my sister.
It all kinda started when she got into highschool, she began hanging around the wrong people, just being a general delinquent, constant detentions, behavioural issues ect. That then turned into her an asshole, breaking peoples things like my neighbours wall, she once also through flour all over another neighbours garden for literally no reason, and then refused to apologise and denied it, going into supermarkets and breaking things giving the staff abuse just trying to make a living just general shit like that.
Anyways that was all years ago but as time has gone, she has just gotten worse and worse. She got kicked out of school and put into a kind of disciplinary school which she never tried in and failed all her exams getting no grades whatsoever. She then had to get a job, which she got fired from for constantly being late despite her shifts always starting in the afternoon. So now she does nothing while being at home. For example my dad works weekdays and my mum works Tuesdays Wednesdays, and on those days it’s only her at home and she doesn’t help around the house cleaning but instead leaves it for whoever comes home from work first which is me or my mum most of the time and it isn’t fair. So that’s one part of my hatred
The second part is her blatant ignorance and selfishness. She stays up on the phone with her shit friends till about 3-4am waking me and my dad up, playing music, singing just everything to be annoying. She purposely talks loud because she has to be the centre of attention. She goes live on multiple apps just to argue with people and act hard towards them which again is because she’s so attention hungry but then shows me and my family in those lives despite not wanting to be on camera to a bunch of strangers. That’s essentially the second part.
The third part is her horrible disgusting boyfriend Cameron (m19) this dude is no more than a dirty little rat who constantly cheats on my sister (and I’m serious when I say he cheated with a 14 year old when he was 18). Anyways she excuses everything he does, he once threatened my 11 year old brother, he’s threatened me also, and when I removed him from my house for threatening me I was the bad guy to her. She is so selfish that she’d let this low life wannabe druggie gangster threaten her 11 year old brother? But when one of my friends watched my sister get beaten up and her things smashed up, I cut ties with that friend for that. But no my sister can’t cut ties with someone who’s much worse.
The final part comes to her and other peoples property, I live in the UK so I’m legally allowed to drink, and I’m not a heavy drinker but have a stash of spirits for occasions which she constantly steals from, both her and her friend do. And when they drink they take my car key and drink and smoke in my car stinking it up with the smell of alcohol and smoke. And when telling my parents they say “she’s not doing any harm sat in your car” “it’s better her be there and not on the streets” and when I bring up the alcohol “you probably drank more than you thought” I never drink heavy enough to forget, and my older sister has the exact same issue with her alcohol being stolen.
That’s about everything
Am I the asshole?

I started seeing this girl a few weeks ago after being fresh out of a 2 year relationship. She’s really nice to me and checks up on me often and goes out of her way to hangout. I told her I don’t want anything serious, definitely not looking for another relationship, and although she expressed that she’s fine with all of that I could tell she was kind of putting me into that boyfriend role (making future plans, talking about living together, introduced to family) I would remind her often that we were only friends(with benefits) but it was nice and flattering to have somebody thinking of me that way. We only had sex the one time and shortly after she started introducing me to her friends and family. I enjoyed spending time with her up until that point, then I saw the way she treated her family. She very dramatically scorned her sister, brother, and sister in law for making a mess of her living room (not much of a mess) cussing and making demands the whole time. I figured that might have been an isolated incident, maybe she was having a bad day and they’re regularly doing this to her. Then I witnessed her calling her brother a fat ass and making fun of him for being autistic. Actually I didn’t just witness it, she made the jokes and comments to me, I guess thinking I would find it funny or something. She sprayed him with water and then yelled at him for getting upset about it, her brother is living with her right now and she went on to say that he can get the fxxxk out if he has a problem with the way she treats him. There were several other incidents too with other family members and a close friend of hers. Anyway I was supposed to stay the night again and we were going to have sex but I found myself in her shower not wanting to be there, so I left. It’s been about a week, I never explained myself and I dont reply often but she’s been sending messages every day checking up on me and sending memes and wanting to hangout again. I feel guilty, because she was very good to me and I enjoy spending time with her, but it bothers me how she treats her “loved ones” and I know it would only be a matter of time before she gets comfortable with me and begins to treat me the same way. Honestly idk if Im posting looking for advice or reassurance or what

I’m so mad rn, E is on live saying that they got abused when they were younger, tell me why they would go back to Maria if they were getting abused? I got abused from the age for 4-14 from my aunt I’m 23 now and I haven’t talk to her I don’t even talk to my family bc they all took her side, from being abused I have ptsd, trust issues and I get scared a lot I can’t sit at table if there isn’t a wall behind me bc I will have a panic attack, and get scared that someone mite come behind me and just start attacking me , but idk if anyone remembers this but E told their live that their mom groomed them but yet once again went to live with her, my aunt ( TW ⚠️) let my own brother SA me for years the only reason why it stop is bc he touched my little sister, and i don’t forgive her I will never ever go to her for help, ever!!! The fact that she went back to her is mind blowing I can’t even go visit my home town bc I’m terrified to run into any of my family members, bc of what happened and also bc I’m autistic I gotta live in the program for the rest of my life and it’s 💩 I’ll never get my own place I have too much anxiety to drive a car I will never have a “normal life” and E out here throwing a pity party about being abused it pisses me tf off so bad, I really wish E would just stop with these lies. Not saying they probably weren’t abused but with the fact they go back to their mom and 💩 just isn’t adding up with what their saying, what is everyone’s thoughts on this?

Hi everyone! I'm new here (23m). Yesterday, I came out to my eldest sister(I have known about my sexuality since I was 13 years old) but I only mentioned to her that I am confused about it. Unfortunately, she was deeply upset by this news to the point where it has affected her sleep, appetite, and overall well-being. Despite my request for her to keep it confidential, she confided in my older brother, older sister, twin brother (who already knew), and my mom. My intention in coming out was to seek clarity about my purpose in life, but now I feel empty and lost. While they have expressed their love and support for me, they also harbor hopes of a 'cure.' Is it normal to feel this emptiness after coming out to your family?

As If It Were Kismet: Prologue
Matt tore through the brush, blind in the dark. He didn’t care where he was going. He only knew he needed to be elsewhere. Far from here.
Behind him a creature howled that shocked his mind. It’s form was cruel and dangerous, though female. Nothing like the young woman she had once been. Nothing but a girl, a small and slight female.
It’s guttural growls and howls only grew closer as Matt tried to pick between seeing where he was going and getting away. The few times he looked he caught sight of the creature behind him. Hopping through the air with a speed that told him he was being toyed with. As if he were a mouse being played with by a cat.
But the reflex in him to run kept him going. His adrenaline going as hard as it could. The tightness and burning in his core tensing and locking up as his legs felt like there were being burned from within while taking on more of a heaviness.
His lungs were starting to betray him as he tried to gulp big breaths of air but only rapid and shallow breaths were all that he could manage. His brain was starting to burn….and then he was falling.
Falling down the side of a hill he saw the creature dart in a spring towards him, imperceivably fast almost. Catching him in mid air it seemed.
Managing to wrap its body around him and cushion his impact against the ground as they rolled. His mind barely took in what was happening during the roll. Only starting to understand what was happening once they were still.
The creature's triple D-cup breasts were unmistakably pressed hard against his back as he laid facing up at the night sky.
For a few seconds the world stilled and the needle light pain hitting the center of his brain took over for the cooking heat his brain had felt. His whole body felt heavy and reluctant to move.
Even if he could have really moved, a dull ache came over his limbs making them feel stilled and trapped as if by immeasurable amounts of sand that had engulfed him.
Slowly the arms holding him started to move. Moving so the creature's hands could start exploring him. Causing Matt to unstoppably let out a pathetic moan that made him go cold inside as hands lifted up his shirt and started to touch his exposed stomach and then his chest.
He would have whimpered so pathetically had he not still been in the depths of terror.
As its hands felt and groped his pecs he tried to situp as if to get away. For his efforts, his reward was a hand around his throat and a collection snarls and growls against his ear. A beastly, guttural voice spat words at him while somehow holding a feminine tone.
“Don’t move….I don’t know if I can calm down…”
Her words were not helped by her moans in his ear and the subsequent kissing of his ear. The flesh of his ear going between her lips as she moaned and seemed to pant. Releasing it and licking the side of his face with a moist warmth. He could feel its spittle, viscous and coating his flesh where the tongue touched. He could smell something in his saliva. Something that subtly entranced him.
Matt went stock still with fear and the confusion of mixed arousal. He barely perceived her right hand traveling lower on his body. A surprised moan and shudder echoed in the night from Matt’s lips as she took ahold of him. Her hand above his pants but still….stimulating him.
A light squeezing and almost probing of her digits kept him aroused and confused within her grasp. Resigning himself to the strange fate, Matt looked up at the stars as his mind tried not to shatter under the strange maelstrom of events and sensation that had started mere minutes ago.
His mind was only more confused as a slight figure, feminine in build, how it seemed to thunk the ground audibly as she landed on her feet out nowhere. Her knees barely bending under the pressure of the landing. Yet dirt was kicked up anyways and some of it onto Matt. Feeling it pepper his shirt and pants as it fell.
The figure, lit only faintly by moonlight, roared some dark tone Matt could only perceive as a demon as her eyes went bright with a crimson light. A light in the darkness that should not have been. “Let him go you bitch.” Was its words following the roar. Spittle escaping its mouth with faint droplets hit Matt's face.
The creature holding him by his throat and crotch seemed to tighten the grasp of both hands as it roared back. “HE IS MINE!”
The figure paused with a moment's hesitation. He was also her quarry. She had felt his fear without him knowing. His confused arousal. His fear. His terror.
And now he laid at the center of a struggle between two monsters. Unsure of who he wanted to win.
As If It Was Kismet Ch. 1
Matthew Berkshire hadn’t seen his mom in two years. Not that he had seen her much over the last six years.
A messy divorce between messy people and mom’s chaotic want for a life in Alaska had been one of the most…upsetting times in life. Setting him up for so much of what had defined his life thus far but then that had really started two years before he ever turned.
His ear buds were basic and simple. A part of cheap five pack, common for his life as he was known to lose little things. Small things. They had a mix of metal and hard rock playing in them. Some classics, some alternative. Whatever made him feel something, anything. Even if it was hate. Anger. Rage. It was better than feeling numb. Not belonging.
The escalator down to his lone bag to go with his lone carry on showed his mom waiting for him. His had a type, that’s for damn sure. Not that it helped him in the genetics department as he was stuck at 5’9” to go along with his mother’s five foot even as his dad stood six foot. Forever leaving him to feel small, to pale, under his dad’s shadow. Did he ever stand a chance?
The guy next to her with the unkempt former seventies porn stache was “Dave.” He’d met him twice when his mother came and visited him in Florida. To his credit the guy didn’t look annoyed. Kind of concerned kind of which made Matthew want to break his frozen look but he was well practiced. Having removed any note of sadness from his face through much…tribulation.
His mother’s look on her face betrayed a hint of worry as the bruises on his face lightly showed up close. Saying his name was his like a distant echo that belonged to someone else.
Dave cut in and pulled out his right headphone. “What the hell bud, they knock you hard enough to hurt hearing? Your mom’s asking how you are doing.”
Matthew pulled out the other bud and grunted an empty “sorry.”
“You still have bruises after two week? What did they do to you?” His mom’s voice was full of worry. Something he hadn’t heard in….too long. Too long to make him feel anything. To ever make him believe there was any sincerity to her words. To not think her voice and mannerisms were an act. An act by someone who…wasn’t really there.
“It’s only fair. I took a nose. Fractured a couple orbital bones. Left one with having to get his jaw wired shut. And one will never walk right again for what I did to his knee cap.” Matthew said it all with a bored and disinterested tone. Perhaps well rehearsed.
“My man, handing out ass kickings, not bothering to take names.” Dave was quick to be the typical man’s man about it. Matthew wasn’t quite done yet. Lifting up his shirt to expose the right side near his kidney. Revealing a nasty scar from a six inch blade. “Luckily they gave me this first so they could rule it all in self-defense. The fuck didn’t get it in more than inch before I ruined his knee cap and then I took the nose of one of the fucks holding me.” Now he chose to smile keeping the well practiced dead look in his eyes.
No retorts. No questions. Just horrified looks on their faces. As he liked. As he preferred. They could hate him. They could be disgusted by him. But by God they would fear him.
“Well the doc did a good job sewing you up.” Dave commented uncomfortably. “Dissolving sutures. Ain’t they grand.” He smiled again and let it abruptly fall off his face and started walking to the carousel for the baggage claim.
Waiting and making small talk with Dave as his mother stood in silence. He was not the little boy she abandoned. The little boy she left with an angry man. While never hitting him. Left him in constant fear till he turned twelve and just didn’t care anymore. Something snapped. Broke. And he didn’t care if he died. Didn’t care if he stole. Didn’t even care if he killed. He just knew not to get caught. Something left over from his grandfather’s wisdom which came to make more and more sense with each passing year of life since that thing inside him broke.
Finally his bag came around and Dave went to try first to grab it but Dave practically leapt ahead of him. “Is that your grandfather’s rucksack bag?” his mother asked in a perplexed voice.
“Figured it’s been around since Viet Nam. So it’d serve me better than any of the worthless stuff they called luggage.” Dave commented after Matthew’s words. “Well hell yeah I still got mine from Desert Storm. You know the first one.” Dave laughed and Matthew eyed him oddly. Be it in the south or whether it was Alaska, country boys are country boys he guessed.
The car ride to the two people’s house, as Matthew thought of them. Was uneventful and full of vistas he imagined metropolitan types wetting themselves over. At most they meant isolation to him. Furtherness from the world as there were no mountains in Florida. And what mountains he had last seen in another state had been when he was eight. Another life, to Matthew it felt like. A life alien to him.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 2
Dave and his mom’s place was some two story type tucked into a tree line far up an elevated point. It was by no means the highest point in the mountain but it certainly felt up there.
Rocks were where the driveway should have been Matthew thought. Grabbing his backpack and rucksack from Dave’s jeep was no hard thing for him. Matthew was in formidable shape for someone his age, maybe even five years older. He had gotten a mix of fairly big shoulders and arms along with the chest to go for it when compared to most kids his age. A side effect of working out at least twice a day. First thing in the morning, some time in the evening, and the school’s gym when had had a good semester in school before he had to leave Florida.
Dave tried to come up and help him but Matthew walked past him towards the house. His mom was not sure what to make of his demeanor. Matthew was not the sweet kind boy he had once been. But she had been gone from his life essentially for a long time.
Ushering him into the house she cracked some joke he did not hear. He was too busy looking about and seeing a mix of old outdated decorating mixed with the strange and odd flair of his mother. Color contrasting against drab and dated. Like brightly painting over an old home that was falling apart he thought.
“Your room is this way Mattie.” His mom brightly intoned.
Without expressing any interest he followed his mother. Still faced and nonplussed. Just going along with the current. Pushed and pulled with its roll like a piece of driftwood.
The room was simple. A single small bed. A set of rubber weights with a curl bar and barbells. “Your dad said you were into weight lifting so we got you a bunch of stuff. Dave says it looks like his department’s gym almost. The woman’s smile felt very alien to him.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ve got most of my stuff from home.” Matthew starting unpacking his rucksack and pulled out cables of repetitive and mixed colors. A single plastic barbell handle. The ruck sack could be filled with water bottles for added weight during pushups he figured. Remembering a Michael Keaton movie he watched with his dad post-Batman movies where he played a convicted killer using plastic bags filled with water for weights.
Matthew caught movement outside his lone fairly large window that could let him step out onto the roof of the house given its layout.
He saw a number of people running together through what he guessed was the backyard of the property, not that it had any fences to mark boundaries
They wore clothes that looked similar yet different from each other at the same time.”Oh those are the Johnston’s. Really nice bunch of people. Been on the mountain for a long time Dave tells me.”
Matthew looked at the group of people running and noticed the lack of resemblance. “They are related?” Matthew quizzically asked. Seeing a black and possibly a hispanic person amongst the bland looking white people.
“Oh well they are all adopted but for one or two of them…besides the parents of course. The family has a long tradition of taking in orphans they say. Real nice of them to do that don’t you think.”
Matthew looked at his mother and the hosier accent made no sense to him as he arched his left eye brow. Her and his dad were both from Florida. Born and raised. Sure her parents were from New York city but…
Matthew shook his lightly without turning to look at his mother as his vision was grabbed by one of the runners in particular. A girl of moderate height. Soft brunette. A plain beauty he figured with a slim build….and lack of remarkable breasts and rear to make any note of but….girls in general were his type at his age.
She was pretty enough. He couldn’t deny that but he found himself transfixed by her visage.
But the way she turned and looked at him, especially at that distance felt very disconcerting to him. Even if she was smiling like…she was a taste of a bright shiny day. Somehow.
Matthew’s mom noticed the exchange and smiled to herself with closed lips. “Oh that’s Vicky. She’s your age I think. Very sweet girl, who does the charity functions. You know bake sales, blood drives, car washes and the like. I think you should get to know her. Might be good for you.”
A truck horn sounded a couple of beeps in rather succession. “Oh that must be Mack, he said he might come by later this evening but he seems early.”
Matthew’s mother turned and left his room. Leaving Matthew to exchange a few looks with the alluring Vicky as she turned her head away from him to talk to the others in her group and look back at him.
Still Matthew’s left eyebrow was arched. In a way that reminded him of Spock from Star Trek that he and his grandpa used to watch on some streaming service or another.
As he heard ambient chatter elsewhere outside the house he figured to check it out as the alluring sight of Vicky would be around he figured. It was dull to stare at artwork. He was a boy who preferred jet skis and the like. Something he could ride and enjoy immensely. Even if at times it got him stabbed.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 3
Matthew sauntered out of the house and down the rockway that stood in for a driveway.
A few new people had come over from what he could first surmise of the situation. As he got closer it was obvious they were indigenous people. A couple of grown men…and a girl?
She was mousey. Maybe five foot. Hiding behind glasses and a big camo jacket that was far too big for her. It looked made for a grown man and the backwards trucker hat on her head kept her long black a beautiful mess of sorts.
She was cute in a way. A little androgynous but she had a cute energy to her. She reminded him of the more tomboyish Puerto Rican girls he had gotten into back in Florida. Given the deer corpses in the back of the truck….probably more dangerous to play with given the men in her family.
Small chatter passed between the adults when the girl noticed but turned away, trying to hide the tiny hint of a smile.
“Oh Mattie, this is Mack. He works with Dave at the sheriff’s department and John, he’s with fish and wildlife.” Matthew nodded at his mom’s words with some blankness as he looked at the deer the in the back of the pickup truck.
“Gale tells us you hunted with your dad some in Florida and Georgia.” Mack offered with a light hearted laugh camouflaged by his big simple and cheery but husky way he spoke.
Looking in the back of the truck he spoke. “We used lever action thirty-thirties and Mosin Nagants in seven-six-two-fifty-four-rimmed.” Mack and John whistled in an exaggerated fashion. Leaving Matthew to wonder if they were mocking him.
Mack spoke. “Well we just used thirty-odd-six in a custom gussied Garand.” That caught Matthew’s attention. “You have a Garand…” Matthew finally demonstrated interest in anything. “My dad has an SVT-40 and a Hakim 8mm but he always wanted a Garand but was too cheap to buy one.”
Gale, his mother, chimed in loudly. “Oh his Dad loved his guns but was such an odd duck about how he bought or why he bought them. Never made sense to me how he wasn’t a collector but he didn’t get the latest and greatest.” Gale laughed uncomfortably. At least it seemed that way to Matthew.
Matthew pointed to the girl with an underhanded pointing hand. “And who is this? A cute little mute mouse or does she have a name?” Dave and the other men laughed.
Mack again spoke. “Well you people call her Rebecca, she’s my adopted daughter.” Matthew was taken aback by what he heard. “You people?”
Rebecca kindly spoke with a soft but almost melodic voice as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “White people or rather not members of our tribe. It’s just easier to appease the colonizer kind of thing. Borrowed from when the Jesuit missionaries chased us up here.”
Mack stepped in. “It’s just easier to have white people names than have them try to say our tribal names. And we don’t want them shortening or Anglicising our names kind of thing.” Rebecca stepped back into the conversation cutting off her adopted father. “It’s an insult to our history basically.”
Matthew cocked his head sideways raising his eyebrows shortly before letting them drop. “Well as soon as I’m eighteen I’m out of here and back to Florida so I’m a sort of involuntary colonizer of sorts. So I won’t be taking any of your land from you. The Seminoles on the other hand are still shit out of luck.”
Rebecca’s smile caused Matthew to reflexively smile. Mack made the moment more awkward. “See Becca, I told you someone off the reservation would like you some. You just have to be creative.” Mack laughed in a chiding manner…Matthew presumed. He sensed that he was the butt of some kind of cultural joke. Like marrying a white guy was some sort of insult or mark of shame. That kind of thing.
Rebecca turning away from him was not something he had been expecting. Her then getting in the truck in a huff left the group in a silence for a moment.
Dave spoke to break the awkward silence. “Well just bring the truck to work on Monday and leave it for me to grab up.” Mack acknowledged Dave and they started to get off as Rebecca looked at Matthew for another instance. Matthew couldn’t look away for some reason as the two seemed to lock eyes for an instance.
Till Vicky and family seemed to come jogging down the road. While Matthew’s eyes diverted from Rebecca’s. Hers did not till she realized he was looking elsewhere. And her vision found Vicky and what had been a hint of smile on her face turned glum and disappointed.
Matthew did not look away from the vision of Vicky but instead of a starry eyed fool looking longingly. It was a baffled look. Well baffled for him, with his eyes drawn narrow and night with a focus.
There was something about her…he couldn’t quite put a name too. The way she appeared to him. One second brunette. The next second blonde or blonde like. As if the color appeared in her air and disappeared in fractions of seconds. Much the same way her body almost seemed to…shift…very subtly…smoothly. A nicer bum. Larger breasts. And then back to a simple and plain form. Feminine no doubt. Attractive. But not so…remarkable.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 4
The next two days passed without incident. Nothing of any real substance or challenge to note.
Matthew got settled somewhat and started working out almost immediately. Exploring around the woods but Dave told him not to go far. Especially without a hunting rifle. Dave had left a simple semi-auto Winchester out for him. His bear gun as Dave referred to it with its four round magazine. But Matt figured till he got some practice with the rifle to leave it alone. He made a hiking stick like his grandpa taught him and treated it over a low fire. He would take some electrical tape for the end his hand would grip around. Plenty enough to ward off anything smaller than a bear he figured.
The ride to school was a pain in the neck but simple enough. Dave would let him use a clunker pickup truck he had laying around. It wasn’t pretty but it would get him to and from. Even if it was from the eighties and still backfired on occasion. But for now Dave and his mom took him on their way to the sheriff’s department.
It wasn’t much of a school. It wanted to be modern but its fifties original construction was very obvious. It serviced the pipeline families and familys’ of fisherman who worked the seasons in between their time at the pipeline.
Matt was to report to the principal for some reason Dave and his mom wouldn’t share. Which annoyed him but he figured it was to read him the law of land. Small towns with their big views of the outside world and like.
Dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt under a light jacket with steel toed boots set him more apart then he expected. His buzzed head didn’t help matters. Already he was feeling like a stranger in a strange land but he was quite strange after all. And he liked it that way. Normal people were so pathetically disappointing to him.
A secretary or assistant or some such led him to the principal’s office. Where it reeked of real wood that was old and fabric and upholstery that needed to be updated for the last twenty years, Matt figured.
“This is Matthew Berkshire, Principal Andrews.” The man was turned with his back to the door and he was quick to wave her off as he turned her around.
He was an older man. Fat and large. Tall with a body built like he had once been fit and a demeanour of annoyed and irate already as he fixed Matt with a scowl and look of disgust. Another worthless government whore. Matt thought to himself. His father and his grandfather had bestowed unto him a natural disrespect for government workers and the figures that wore unjustified authority as a shield but pretended the weight of the state was not at their back ready to crush all who resisted. Little figures of valor pretending to be mighty and alone but acting with the tyranny of the state and all the backing.
“Mr. Berkshire, please sit down.” His tone wasn’t unusually hostile, just gruff. As if he had better things to do.
Matt complied and took a seat in the chair while maintaining a friendly facade. Not everyone was an enemy. And not everyone needed to be an enemy. Even if anybody could be any enemy. There was no reason to make enemies you didn’t have to. Another of his grandfather’s bastardised wisdoms.
“Well I looked over you file and you have quite the history Mr. Berkshire.” Matt resisted qiuping back a joke. Instead he waited for Principal Andrews to continue as he remained nonplussed and looking as if he felt no need to respond. A simple head tilt with dead eyes looking back at the principle as if he was not even there would suffice.
Matt’s reaction or lack of a reaction rather made Principal Andrews only narrow his eyes with examination. He was not used to a kid not responding to him. Especially with his gruff and hard act going on.
“Well by all accounts you moved here after some problems at your last school. A fight broke out and you did some real harm to your fellow students it appears.” Of course, he would take the side of the perpetrators. School administrators always did. Especially when they weren’t white. Just a fact of the times. Cowardice and pathetic mediocrity was the way they leaned, like good government workers sucking the dick of Big Daddy government. Worthless whores.
Matt chose to reply. “Oh you mean the criminals that stabbed me. Got arrested at the hospital and then pled to felonies. Yeah Florida, with the American counties are good like that.” Principal Andrews went real still. No shame. No fear. No penitence. He didn’t like that.
“Well be it as it may Mr. Berkshire we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here…” Matt cut him off responding with a deadpan tone. “You mean self-defense meant to save one’s own life while the cowardly and pathetic school workers look on with zero interest but to keep their money rolling in and will allow known gang members with records of violent acts and crimes that should have them expelled many times over, where in certain Democrat counties such cowardice and idiocy empowered a couple school shooters?”
Principal Andrews looked at the Matt with a note of disgust. “Look here Mr. Berkshire, your beliefs matter not one bit here. This isn’t Florida. We don’t like our way of life being disrupted by outside agitators who have problems with authority.”
Matt did his best not to roll his eyes and let the older fat man drone own as he dead-stared him. Lifeless and without emotion.
The man came to a finish and Matt spoke up without having listened to him or paid him any attention. “Great now that’s taken care of. Can I please get to class and finish my sentence of two years at your wonderful school?”
Principal Andrews huffed and snorted before calling in Vicky. Vicky stood in the corner after entering with a quiet and seamless presence. Matt felt disturbed and tried not betray his feelings as the young Vicky was perceived and not perceived to be moving.
Principal Andrews made the introductions and Matt nodded back. She was to be his chaperone for the day. They had the same classes and she was to show him the ropes so to speak. The ins and outs of the school. The locations of their classes.
He recognized her. It was hard not to. The way her appearance seemed to shift fluidly almost. The petite and skinny brunette ever so lightly had a big bust and blonde hair with curves added when she seemed to shift before his eyes. Like watching a film but each frame had a different person.
Matt didn’t say anything about it. Even if he did he would only be acknowledging his crazed state, if he had one. If.
Unlike an obedient puppy dog he got up in a slow and awkward fashion and followed behind her as his oddly disproportionate frame allowed. Causing her a note of concern for some reason. As if she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been….Or he was just weird. And Matt could admit to himself he was just weird. Part of his charm, he would jest about it at times. Not that he had many people to jest to now.
As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

These are always fun.
Last name - An occupation
Great grandad - An old Welsh first name and middle name which has the meaning “hard working”.
Great grandmother - A vintage first name popular in the 1920s and an Italian middle name.
Grandad - The first name, the name of a King and the middle name a two syllable Irish name.
Grandma - A first name after a 1940s film star. A middle name beginning with a V.
Dad - A long first name with more than one nickname. A middle name which is a city or a state.
Mum - A floral inspired first name and a long Spanish middle name.
Auntie - A two syllable nature inspired first name and a short French middle name.
Uncle - An Indian first name and a middle name related to a rive body of water.
Cousin (Girl) - A first name meaning beauty/ beautiful and an Indian middle name.
Brother - A one syllable first name where he will be the only one in the class. A middle name after a boyband member from the 2000s.
Sister - A colour related first name. A middle name after a girlband member from the 2000s.
Cat - A Tv show double act -
Dog - A TV show double act -

I am not diagnosed with epilepsy. For the past month I get really weird split-second or 1 second long sensations of anxiety (this is the only way I know how to describe them), where I just feel weird. It doesnt last long enough for me to make sense of it, like if it's a dejavu or confusion or what is it. I don't get other symptoms along with this.
Here I see that most people experience auras which they describe as "dejavu" or other clear symptoms that are more intense, and they last long enough for people to kind of process them.
For you who experience auras, did they start similarly when you started having them and gradually got more intense/longer, or they were always like that?
I have to add that I'm also sometimes experiencing muscle twitching and sometimes jerks (especially while sleeping). I'm 27M with no history of seizures or similar symptoms prior to these. I see that these symptoms often happen in TLE or JME (the latter doesn't make sense for my age).
I am kind of concerned and currently keeping an eye on these symptoms, and if they keep getting worse I will make sure to see a neurologist.

Recently I found out I have periodontal disease, and I have been struggling for a very long time, or at least it’s gotten worse when I found out. Usually I’m very okay and jolly but day by day I think it’s better to just go than continued to be judge for the rest of my life. I have had jacked up teeth for a long time since an accident in elementary school that my “parents” gnored or refused to fix. I mean it’s also my fault for not caring for my teeth either and I know I’ll get judged for that. I don’t know what to do because I care about friends and family, it’s hard to get out of bed every damn day. I feel like I’m faking around friends and I don’t know what to do because I can’t afford treatment nor do I want to leave my brothers and sisters behind. But I’m already judged by family for the disease but they say to have faith, I can fix it and to just love myself but I don’t I never have. I never loved myself and this ugly smile, the way I look, the isolation I have is killing me on the inside I just want to scream and die..but I don’t have to courage to end it myself because each time I do think of it I think of my family. And no my suicide isn’t based on my teeth, it has other factors I’m sure are deeply rooted in me right now that I can’t pick apart right now but I know they are there. I just feel crushed but I want to make it and be happy I just don’t know how because I feel like my soul is just being draggged

"Euron's gifts are poisoned". We first hear this phrase after the Ironborn take the Shield Islands:

Victarion had expected the Crow's Eye to give the lordships to his own creatures, Stonehand and the Red Oarsman and Left-Hand Lucas Codd. A king must needs be open-handed, he tried to tell himself, but another voice whispered, Euron's gifts are poisoned.
When he turned it over in his head, he saw it plain. The Knight was the Reader's chosen heir, and Andrik the Unsmiling the strong right arm of Dunstan Drumm. Volmark is a callow boy, but he has Black Harren's blood in him through his mother. And the Barber . . .

So it seems like Euron can't keep the islands and just wants undermine his rivals by giving it to their most leal men, something which Euron himself later admits:

“Your victories are hollow. You cannot hold the Shields.”
“Why should I want to hold them?” His brother’s smiling eye glittered in the lantern light, blue and bold and full of malice. “The Shields have served my purpose. I took them with one hand, and gave them away with the other. A great king is open-handed, brother. It is up to the new lords to hold them now. The glory of winning those rocks will be mine forever. When they are lost, the defeat will belong to the four fools who so eagerly accepted my gifts.”

House Harlaw

So why in the world did Rodrik the Reader, probably the smartest Ironborn out there, go along with it? He definitely noticed the scheme, as his conversation with Nute the Barber indicates:

Nute laughed. “What rose can harm the krakens of the deep? We have taken their shields from them, and smashed them all to pieces. Who will protect them now?”
“Highgarden,” replied the Reader. “Soon enough all the power of the Reach will be marshaled against us, Barber, and then you may learn that some roses have steel thorns.”

Well, one thing to note is that the Harlaws took Greyshield in an unusual way. It was taken by Ser Harras Harlaw, the chosen heir of Rodrik the Reader. He took the whole island by himself:

"The Knight took Grimston by himself. He planted his standard beneath the castle and defied the Grimms to face him. One did, and then another, and another. He slew them all... well, near enough, two yielded. When the seventh man went down, Lord Grimm’s septon decided the gods had spoken and surrendered the castle.”

This method of conquest, with minimal loss of life, stands in stark contrast to typical Ironborn plunder, rape and kill tactics. We don't know exactly what happened on the other islands, but it must've been much much worse, given we have scenes like:

The streets were strewn with corpses, each with a small flock of carrion crows in attendance.

and

At some point Left-Hand Lucas Codd decided he wanted one of Lord Hewett’s daughters, so he took her on a table whilst her sisters screamed and sobbed.

The Lords of the other islands were either killed (Lord Humfrey Hewett and Lord Moribald Chester) or had to flee after their son and heir was killed (Lord Osbert Serry), meanwhile Lord Guthor Grimm is merely captured.
And that's not the only way he distinguishes himself from the other ironborn. He’s a knight, which is virtually unheard of on the Iron Islands because they don't follow the Faith, earning him the nickname "the Knight". Given that he is half andal (his mother is a Serrett) and proud of it (he quarters his shield with the Serrett, Harlaw sigil) and given his status as a knight, it stands to reason that he probably follows the faith of the seven. Rodrik is very tolerant of the Faith and greenlander customs himself. He even had a septon on his island to attend to his books. And he explicitly rejects the Old Way:

The Old Way died with Black Harren

House Grimm

It's interesting that of the four islands, the Harlaws chose to attack Greyshield. The name Greyshield reminds us of Greyiron, Greyjoy and the Grey King. While the name Grimm is also reminiscent of the ironborn. The only characters with that epithet in our present day story are Grimtongue (one of the crew on Asha Greyjoy's ship Black Wind) and Gelmarr the Grim (an ironborn raider in Theon's crew). Not to mention that linguistically it fits right in with other Ironborn houses: House Sparr, House Drumm, House Grimm.
The sigil of house Grimm depicts an iron shield and longships. Iron is of course associated with the ironborn and iron islands and the longships are the chosen ships of the ironborn. The only other houses with longships on their sigil are House Farwynd and House Hoare, both Ironborn. Not to mention that historically Torgon Greyiron used Greyshield as his stronghold.
So it seems like House Grimm has some ironborn roots, but they're definitely followers of the faith since they have a septon who even has the ability to surrender the island.
Now I don't expect the average Ironborn to know this, but given Rodrik's intelligence and love of reading, it's safe to assume that he probably knew this or at least pieced it together before they attacked the Shield Islands.

How the Harlaws can keep it

Like House Grimm, Harras follows the faith (or at least he was knighted by the faith), and has both ironborn and andal roots, which he explicitly shows on his personal sigil. He also went out of his way to kill as few people as possible and not kill the current Lord. He also has the benefit of contrast as the other Ironborn are being total maniacs around him, making him seem even more gallant by comparison.
Furthermore, he can truthfully explain that he and his family voted against this raid, and just wanted peace and more integration with the mainland in general.
There's also still the possibility of a marriage pact. We don't know the family tree of House Grimm. If Lord Grimm is single/widowed he could be married to an older Harlaw (e.g. Gwynesse Harlaw) who can't have children. This would make Harras still the future Lord, but makes it more peaceful and eases the transition. Other Harlaws can also be married, like Boremund's sons, or Sigfryd's grandsons, but Harras himself is also single. He's also the heir to Harlaw and has a Valyrian steel sword. If he decides to marry a Grimm, this would definitely not be a bad match for House Grimm.
I think that when the Reach attacks the Shield Islands, and Lord Grimm is confronted with the possibility of

1. Having a lengthy fight in which many men will die and many of his ships and infrastructure will be destroyed, while simultaneously risking being executed as a hostage. Or...
2. Not having any of that while also having a marriage pact with a strong house (e.g. marrying his daughter to a strong, gallant, culturally similar, valyrian steel wielding heir to one of the most powerful houses in Westeros)

He will pick the second option.
Harras might even fight against another ironborn when the Reach arrives. He would probably prefer to not fight against Maron Volmark, since house Volmark is sworn to house Harlaw, but the other two aren't even of a noble house. Lord Serry has fled and can still make a claim on Southshield, so (assuming that Serry isn't too old to have another heir, and there's no Serry that Harras could marry to a Harlaw) it would be best to attack Nute the Barber on Oakenshield. Given that Nute is very dumb it would be trivially easy to fabricate a conflict with him if Harras doesn't want to be seen as an opportunistic backstabber by the other Ironborn.
It's explicitly stated that the people of the shields often intermarry:

The men of the Four Shields oft married one another, he knew, just as the ironborn did.

So if a lot of nobles were indeed raped and killed, as we have every reason to believe, then maybe someone of house Grimm could be heir to other islands. If Harras marries (or brokers marriages between house Grimm and house Harlaw) and then liberates them, house Harlaw could even stand to gain two or more islands. Looks like Euron's gift wasn't nearly poisonous enough.

My SIL can from a family of all boys, I think this has started the problem. To be blunt she really wanted to be siblings with me and my sister and it was really uncomfortable. It was constant invites to hangout and constant texting. Stomping over boundaries like not using my name, very grabby, wanting to discuss topics that I don’t even discuss with my sister and so on. We have talked to her before and my brother and it doesn’t help
Really it made me super uncomfortable and did the same with my sister. We are both busy people, my sister is in the middle of her masters and I am working a ton. We do not have much free time and we wanted to hangout.
We were just going to grab dinner and watch a movie. I got a call from my SIL asking what time for dinner. I asked what she meant and she told me it was the sister hangout. I asked how she knew about it and my brother mentioned it in passing. I told her this is just for me and my sister. She told me that I was her sister and asked for the time. This went back and forth a few times.
I eat fed up that she kept inviting herself and told her that she is not my sister and she is not invited.
I got a call from my brother calling me a jerk and I need to apologize

As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”