#and at 11 (when we're scheduled to leave) most of the kitchen was done but there was like 3 racks of dishes + 1000 plates still to do

[tealfruit]

it's not actually difficult to get me to work hard, or maybe not hard but generally well at least, all you have to do is be a decent person who does their own job and treat me and others with respect and I will be ride or die for you

[6mmad]

"i wanna be a homemaker for you"

homemaker: one who manages a household especially as a spouse and parent

heavily inspired by @belphego-or post called "obey me bros as househusbands" it's so good!! please give it a read

link is right here!

lucifer

He doesn't wanna admit how much he likes the idea of coming home from work to see you waiting for him

"Like" , of course, is an understatement. He loves it. The idea of you trusting him enough to dedicating yourself that much... It feeds his pride like nothing else

Naturally, his brothers are still in the house, he can't be without them and they need him as much as he does them.

Regardless of this fact, being a homemaker for Lucifer means that you live like royalty

Groceries? You get only the best ingredients and food. Clothes? Don't worry you have a walk-in closet. Super expensive hobby? He's got it covered.

You wanna buy something stupid that costs too much? "Tsk tsk......buy it before I change my mind, MC."

Doesn't really care if you're an expert at cooking or cleaning, he just has a very strict affection schedule, MC. If he's home by 11pm you have to be in his arms by 11:15pm, no ifs or buts.

He knows that being a homemaker is draining work so expect to see a spontaneous "Be ready by 10. We're going out, I Love you" every other weekend.

mammon

Someone pinch him cause YOU??? are trusting YOUR FIRST?? to provide and care for you and he gets the pleasure of coming home to you..... EVERYDAY???

Ego boost to the max, he's so ready to brag about this anyone and anything with a pulse

"Sorry, Im just rushing' cause I got someone waiting for me at home, ya kno?"

"Me? I slept like a baby, especially after the dinner my MC cooked for me"

Being a homemaker for Mammon means you're getting spoiled with gifts. Are all your basic necessities met? Yes. But did Mammon also randomly buy you a 600$ foot massager cause you got a foot cramp yesterday? ...Yes.

You're Mammon's best friend, so trust that when he gets back from work you're gonna hear about everything that happened and who has beef with who.

Mammon likes to check in on you the most, texting you throughout his work day and asking you if there's anything you need or want.

His favorite things are good morning kisses and goodnight kisses, knowing you're the first and last thing he sees everyday makes him feel all his hard work is worth it.

levi

When you first propose the idea to Levi, he can't believe it, just the image of him coming home to you in an apron is enough to make him lose his cool.

But soon enough he understands that he has to work hard for you since, after all, providing for someone isn't free and he refuses to cheap out on his Henry

Levi is a dedicated husband and part of that means that he absolutely requires you to do your job..

...the job which is kissing him goodbye before he leaves for work

Levi will do anything and everything you ask him to do, he just wants your love and attention in return. Kisses, hugs, words of approval, you name it.

Being a homemaker for Levi means that you live to your taste. Sure Levi has his gaming room, but everything else is up for grabs.

You want to completely remodel the kitchen? Give Levi a little kissing and loving and all of a sudden you have an appointment with an interior designer

If you're happy then Levi feels like he's done his job. He knows being a homemaker requires a lot of trust in your part and for that, he swears to be the best partner he can for you.

___a/n

this came out longer than i thought i would, so i only did three brothers for now, maybe i'll do more (???)

[allonsy-yesiwill]

Tis The Season: A Family Divided

WC: 2900 ish

Pairing:  Dean x Y/N

Warnings: a little bit of angst (read is an orphan but it didn’t happen till she was an adult and hit of crap parents) torwards the end but mostly just fluffy goodness

A/N: I tend to treat the English language like a garbage bin, in public I pronounce gym phonetically cause it makes people mad, and me smile. So please if you are an English teacher just pass on all of this... cause my tenses are timey whimy to say the least. That being said if you want to Beta, let me know I could use all the help I can get... hmmm, I guess that’s just a general statement about my life really..lol.  

Get caught up here 

The next morning Y/N woke up and packed everything up, she just had a bad feeling about the day and she couldn’t bear to ruin the holiday for the rest of Dean’s family. 

“Good morning cheer, you ready for the big Christmas eve brunch,” Benny hollers from the other side of the door. 

Y/N opens it with a sigh, “Please Benny, brunch happens at 11, this is breakfast. It’s still 9 am.” She laughed a bit, “Hey Benny if I ask you to do me a favor and not tell Dean could you do that?”

“Well it depends but probably,” he smiled.

“I don’t think today is going to go well and I don’t want to destroy the actual holiday for them, and by them I mean Mary, Jess, Sam and Dean. John can go fuck himself. I packed my bags, can you just put them in the car just in case?”

“Yes but I don’t like this, I know Dean’s not the best at standing up against his dad but he’s trying.” 

“I get it and I see it. I don’t love him any less for it. It’s just not going to change. I know I had a similar relationship with my parents. And to be honest with you I don’t even think this is about Dean anymore. It’s about my own unchecked baggage with my parents,” Y/N let out with a sigh. 

“Okay cheer, but please promise me you won’t leave the state without him. It would break him.” 

“Agreed.” 

As Y/N walked into the kitchen Dean stood up and pulled out the chair next to him. Y/N looked around the table and noticed that John was missing as Dean pushed in her chair giving her a kiss on the cheek. “How did you sleep babe,” Dean asked. “Well I am pretty sure it was more of a passing out thing after all of the whiskey,” Y/N said softly noticing that the family in the room was looking at them smiling.

“Well if you need a hangover cure, I make whip you up something that will make you feel better,” Sam laughed, “I’ve done it for Dean more than once.” 

“I am not listening,” Mary smiled. 

“No Sam I am good, some fresh fruit and some OJ should do the job. Do we have a nap time scheduled today? I will probably need one of those as well,” Y/N smiled. She couldn’t believe how welcome she felt, no judgement about her words last night. She was sure the family would take John’s side. 

“We can probably arrange for that sweetheart, right mom,” Dean said, giving her hand a squeeze. 

John joined them after about 20 minutes later, stateing that he just finished a business call and wanting to know the days plans where. John did not say a word to Y/N. Didn’t look at her, didn’t acknowledge her presents. He did however make comments on the events happening, stating that they were family only. 

“Well if you excuse me, I will let you get back to your family planing,” Y/N said standing up. 

“What’s wrong Y/N, the hangover got you feeling less than humans,” John asked with a laugh, “Ladies don't drink like you did last night.” 

“No sir, I feel fine however I know when I am not welcome and I don’t want to make thing more uncomfortable for the rest of the family. As far as the lady comment, well I don’t really want to be a door mat for men to wipe their shit on. Thank you for the hospitality and breakfast,”  Y/N got up and walked out of the room. Dean was calling her name and he began to stand up, however John grabbed his arm. “She’s not worth it son,” he said. 

“How do you know, you haven’t even given her a change. All you do is cast your stupid prehistoric views on her,” Dean let out. 

“I worn you son sit down or else.” 

“Or else what, you will disown me like Y/N parents did to her?  I know you ran a background check and I am sure you think I don’t know about her history, but I do. I know everything thing she has done, how she has made the world a better place. That’s 1000 times better than any of us sitting round this table, with the exception of Jess.”Dean smiled looking at Jessica. 

“I am sorry Mom, I am going to go make sure my girlfriend is alright,” Dean said while exiting the kitchen. 

He didn’t have to go far to find her, she had stopped around the corner when she heard Dean speak up. His heart broke when he saw she was crying, “ Baby I am so sorry, come here.” 

“Dean I am not sad, did you mean all of that. Like really or was just to make your dad mad?” 

“Of course I meant every last word of it. I should have stood up last night but I didn’t I am sorry.” 

“Dean no one has ever stood up for me like that,” Y/N said as more tears fell on her face. 

Dean wrapped her in his arms whispering, “I love you so much.” When they broke apart Dean took her hand and asked, “So pool house, Christmas movies. I don’t maybe Die Hard and Elf.”

“Oh Dean Winchester you know the way to this girl's heart.” 

It didn’t take long before Y/N feel asleep on Dean as he continued to watch christmas movies enjoying the close space they shared. Before the movie was over Benny walked Mary in, “Bother, someone is here to see you.” 

Well if it’s John tell him he’s not welcome and we if we need to leave we can,” Dean said louder than he intended. 

“Can I join you,” Mary asked. 

“Yes of course, sorry mom.” 

“You know I like her. She’s strong and feisty, just what you need. You also seem happy, and that makes me happy.” 

“Thank you, where’s dad.” 

“He went to work, I don’t think he wanted to be here. After you left Sam laid into him pretty hard about how he didn't like Jess when she first started coming around. That she just distracted him from the work. Give him time he will figure it out and if he doesn’t well I will come see you,” Mary smiled softly. 

“Yeah, I should have done this the frist night. I am an awful boyfriend.” 

“Son we all have our issue and she gets yours. Don’t feel bad about it, just make sure she knows you love her. Ah the Griswolds, should we make a bet that your father will cut off knob on the top of the stairs or that he will have to cut down a tree from he front yard.”

“Ha, well let’s hope it’s neither. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.”  They both laughed. 

“You know Dean, most families are like the Griswolds, they want everything to be perfect for their children and it’s impossible and not because we all have a cousin Eddy. There is no perfect in real life. Hell there isn’t even a normal, well outside of the setting on the dyer.”  

Mary stayed and finished the movie with them. Y/N woke up before the ending with both Mary and Dean making jokes about sleeping beauty. Mary let Y/N know that she fully excepted her at the family dinner and to be part of the family photo tonight, a Winchester tradition. Mary also let her know that a dress would be delivered for her an hour before the dinner. 

“Dean, please stay in the guest house for the rest of your trip. I know John will be less than pleased, but seeing your smile I just couldn’t say no.” 

The day was peaceful for both Y/N and Dean. It was the perfect christmas eve. When they hear Benny knock on the door they both sighed knowing dinner was close. 

“Alright kids, so Mary let me bring two outfits. However we talked and we really think both of you should go with this one,” Benny let out hand over a garment bag. 

“Oh my god what is this,” Y/N laughed. 

“Mary and I talked about it and it’s fun and joyful, that’s something she seemed to think you were Y/N and that she knows Dean is. She might have used the world childish.” 

“Ha, well you’re not wrong, I love it.” 

“Hey now, same team,” Dean laughed. 

The outfits where a matching over the top christmas print. Y/N dress and Dean’s suit were both a dark green, and decorated to make them look like christmas trees. 

Looking in the mirror Y/N admired their reflection, “ We look perfectly horrible, I love it,” 

“Well I think you got the perfect part right babe.” 

Before dinner the gathered in the living room around the tree. While John had yet to show up Mary insisted on taking pictures. Everyone loved Dean and Y/N outfits, Jess and Sam even suggested next year they all coordinate. 

As John walked into the room it was clear he disapproved of Y/N sitting on Dean’s lap. Lucky Ellen walked in around that time announcing dinner is ready. They all sat down a the formal dinning room table, Y/N was nestled on the corner next to Mary and Dean, far away form John. 

“Alright family, John will lead us in grace and it looks like you Sam are going to be the frist to say what you are most thankful for this year and what you look forward to in the next year,” Mary said. 

As Sam started speaking Y/N’s mind went off the rails. She was most grateful for Dean, but could she say that. But she had to say it, it’s true. There were a few other things on her list but Dean was on the top. She took a deep breath and listened to everyone speak before her it was her turn. 

“Honestly, I am so very grateful for Dean. Even when we were just friends he alway made me feel valued and that’s not something I am used to. It was also because of Dean’s help that was I able to mentor two homeless youths and help them get off the streets and be productive member of the community.” 

“That’s amazing Y/N,” Mary let out. 

“Was that Kyle and Abby,” Dean asked. 

“Yeah,” she smiled. 

“I, I didn’t know they were homeless,” Dean said with a sad smile. “Alright I guess it’s my turn. So I am most grateful to running into this quirky little bartend in NW Portland. I asked her out on a date more than once, she always said no. Then I started to hangout with her as friends and she showed me a world I didn’t know about. And how she was making the world a better place, also how I could make the world a better place. Y/N you inspire me to be a better human and I hope I can have a fraction of the impact you have had on this world.” When Dean finished he look and Y/N, and kissed her deeply and passionately. John said nothing. 

Sam’s boys went next and then it was John’s turn. 

“Well I love and I am also grateful for my family. But right now I am more thank for our private investigator Azazel. Because of him I know that Y/N over there is a gold digging whore. 10 years ago she was in a relationship Dick Roman and when that relationship ended he had to giver her 25k to get off the hook. It looks like her father set them up on a date, them being business associates and when it was all over her family disowned her. So clearly she’s just a whore looking for money. If Mr Roman couldn’t make her happy, I don’t think you can.” 

“Are you done John or is there more,” Y/N asked. 

“There is more, I knew your mother before she died. I didn’t know till well Azazel found it but I remember her. I remember her talking about  her freeloading daughter that never did anything to help the family succeed. She was ashamed and disappointed in you 15 years ago and I think she would still be today.” 

“Well clearly John you believe removing me for the picture is more important than your family's happiness so you would probably be a good friend to my mother. My father actually negotiated a deal for me to marry Dick. I wanted nothing to do with it. At first he was respectful however after a year that all changed. There was physical abuse and he would bring in his own medic’s to patch me up, there was rape that no one would believe when I went to the police. The only reason I am probably alive is because Dick’s lawyer saw what was happening and offered me a life line, Crowley. The first time I met Crowley my eye socket was shattered. Crowley has all of the evidence, the pictures of everything that happened. I just wanted to be free, Crowley got me my freedom and a lump sum of money. He is the only one who keeps that evidence incase something where to happen to me. When I was at Crowley’s my parents came for me multiple times and I didn’t understand why. It was then that Crowley found out my parents had pretty much sold me to Dick and Dick was coming after the money he gave them. Crowley helped me disappear into a bar in Portland where no one I know would find me. And with that I think I am done for this evening. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas Eve,” she said standing up and walking out. The dinning room was quite. Not a word everyone taking everything in. Dean new about Dick but not the physical abuse, she just told him about the mental and that Crowley got her off. 

The staff was never far off and Y/N was hoping that Benny would be right there, she wasn’t disappoint. “You’re bag is still in the car, would you like to go.” 

“Yes, please, “ Y/N said as tears fell down her face. There was no noise form the dining room. Nothing. Y/N figured Dean would need some time to over come his anger. She never told Dean about the physical abuse or rape because Dean is an accquatice of Dick’s and that would never end well. 

“Cheer, I don’t want you to be alone tonight, Jo has the night off and Ellen will be home soon. Can I take you there. Bobby will be over before the night is over.” 

“I would rather be alone but I don’t have any money on me right now so I am at your disposal.” 

“Y/N, no you aren’t. If you want a first class room in this town I can get you that. But we do like you and I am worry. Dean’s going to be worried. If he finds out I left you alone I would get a beating, cheer.” 

“Okay Benny, Jo’s it is.” 

When Benny showed up a Jo’s place he messaged Mary letting her know where Y/N was and that he wouldn’t be coming back tonight. Mary was grateful for the news and insisted that Ellen and Bobby go home early to spend time with their family. When Ellen walked in she brought a few more gifts into the house with her. Mary had a feeling that this might happened so she had packed a few extra gifts for Y/N and let Bobby know. 

“Well this is wonderful,” Ellen walked in to the room seeing Jo’s arm around Y/N while Benny sat on the floor beneath them while It’s a Wonderful Life played on the TV. “I have pie who wants some?” 

As the pie was handed being finished Ellen starts to hand out gifts. 

“What’s this,”Y/N asked, “I don’t need anything.” 

“Well no one needs anything, but you deserve it,” Ellen said, “We all open one gift Christmas Eve for a reason and I think you will find you’re very useful” 

As everyone opened their gift she could see they were all christmas pj’s and Y/N smiled. “ These are the best, but how did you know I would be here Ellen.” 

“I didn’t, these are actually from Mary.” And with that Y/N couldn’t hold the tears back. Mary had gotten her a gift incase she wasn’t there. There is so much thought and work, money makes it easier but she had never felt so love in her life. Ellen held her that best a mom could and let her cry her tears of joy. 

After presents there were more holiday movies and finally eggnog and a red wine hot coco. Bobby and Ellen didn’t have much room but Y/N was more than happy with the sofa. After the family when to bed, Y/N drifted off to sleep watching the fire die down wondering how she got so lucky and hoping that Dean was okay.

Next Part (will be out Christmas Day) 

You can entertain yourself over here with my other stories

TAGS

@akshi8278

[thedeadshotnetwork]

What We're Thankful For, 2017 Remember how horrible 2016 was, and how thrilled we were to leave it behind? So many people we loved died—Bowie, Ali, Prince, Shandler, Zsa Zsa, George Michael, Gene Wilder, Carrie Fisher, Sharon Jones, Leonard Cohen, Florence Henderson. Harambe . On and on. So many things we loved died too. The truth , for instance. Civility . Trust in institutions, after a long fight, also shuffled off this mortal coil. There were no signs 2017 would be any better. In fact, with the election of Donald J Trump to the land’s highest office, many believed democracy had suddenly found itself on life support. But in such desperate need to turn the page, we placed a bit of hope in the changing of the calendar year anyway. We were so ready to move on, to say “ Fuck 2016! ,” that on January 1, 2017 we woke up to a silly art prank— Hollyweed —and allowed ourselves to believe it somehow meant things were already looking up. How naive we were. It can feel impossible in this waking nightmare to feel there is anything to be hopeful about or thankful for. But unlike the end of ‘16, things actually do appear to be ticking upward. The investigation into Russia’s meddling in the election is closing in . There’s a Reckoning underway for men who abuse their power, and it just might stick . Trump’s approval rating has hit an historic low , and he's largely revealed himself to be a walking disaster who can’t get anything done. Because of him, people are tired . But they're also active . And there is evidence the pendulum may finally have begun to swing the other way. This could again reveal itself to be naiveté. But for the purposes of this post, we’re running with it—welcoming any and all good news, especially during the holidays, which can be especially tough. In that spirit, we once again asked the staff at VICE.com to write a bit about what they’re thankful for in these bad (but getting better!!) times, personal things or people or places they cling to when the world appears to be crumbling. We may not be out of the mire just yet, but the things we’re thankful for help us weather the storm. My Bike For anyone who’s not familiar, New York City’s public transportation is usually a horrorshow . Subways rarely come on time , and when they do, you run the risk of getting stuck underground for hours , having your face peed on by a complete stranger , catching your first glimpse of a dead body , or witnessing the brutality of the animal kingdom in all its glory . So my third summer in New York I decided to buy a bike and I’ve never been more thankful. Not only is it just a better alternative to the shitshow that is the MTA , a great group activity, and something you can (but shouldn’t) do drunk , but I started to grow more connected to a city that often feels like a concrete tourist wasteland. Riding my bike through Brooklyn’s sprawling neighborhoods, to Rockaway Beach, down to Coney Island, over the bridge into Manhattan, and up and down the West Side Highway, taught me more about the city than a random constellation of subway stops ever could. I got my head above ground and out into the place I now call home, and learned about others who call it home in the process. (Bragging about all the exercise I was getting didn't hurt either.) The day I finally became happy in New York was the day I gave in and got a bike. That’s all it took. I stopped relying on everyone and everything else—the uncertainty of the train schedules, the wait time for a bus, and the cost and terrible music of an Uber or a cab. If you want to understand a city, and to better feel your place within it, get on a bike (you should also throw on a helmet) and just go— while you still can . —Lauren Messman, Associate Editor Quitting Drinking, Superhero Movies, and Guy Fieri Photos: Eve Peyser on Instagram / Wikimedia Commons I've spent most of 2017 writing about the Trump administration , and the triumph of evil. To put it mildly, the world is not well, which is inconceivably frightening, and on a personal level, very demoralizing. A saving grace has been not drinking . When I quit last October, I did so because I knew if I kept drinking I would die. Drinking was always an escape for me, a way to not feel like myself and not be accountable to myself and my loved ones; at the same time, it exacerbated my suicidal ideation and depression. I don't think I would've made it through the most chaotic year of myself if I was still drinking alcohol, a substance that has only plunged me deeper and deeper into chaos. I'm incredibly thankful for my boyfriend, a fellow non-drinker. Together, we spent much of the year looking for other, less harmful ways to escape from this shit world. As it turns out, a good, wholesome way to take our minds off all the horror that is 2017 is watching superhero movies. Suicide Squad , The Dark Knight , Deadpool , Thor: Ragnarok , Batman Robin , whatever the film's Rotten Tomatoes rating, they offer a form of escapism that makes me happy without hurting myself. Same goes with Guy Fieri, and the wonderful stars of the Food Network. I am especially thankful for Guy Fieri's unapologetic Guy Fieri-ness—it's genuinely inspiring to me. Despite the insanity of 2017, it was also the year I learned to love the things I love without being embarrassed about it. — Eve Peyser, Staff Writer, Politics TEA At some point in the last three decades America decided collectively to get really into coffee to the point where I assume schoolchildren in the coastal elite bubble are educated in cold brewing and Aeropresses and why burr grinders are better. I come here not to denounce coffee snob culture (I have paid $5 for a pourover and did not complain about it) but to raise up tea culture. Sometimes I don't need to mainline all that caffeine that comes in your average cup of "good" coffee. I just want a hot drink to read while I watch a mature, adult television program such as a Ken Burns documentary or HGTV. Green tea, bitter black tea with some milk, herbal teas that can taste like flowers or orange or mint—it's all good, apart from Lipton's, which thank God is mostly not served outside of the Midwest, diners, and certain institutional settings. (I'm talking about hot tea here; iced tea is also excellent.) Teabags are fine but really you should have a teapot and loose leaves, which will feel charmingly eccentric to Americans. Next time someone comes over offer them some tea, or better yet just tell them you are making tea and they can have some if they want, because that's the kind of person you are: a hospitable drinker of tea who even has those little mesh balls you put the leaves into. Tea gives you something to do in the kitchen when you want to check out of a family gathering. It warms your hands during cold winter nights. I won't go so far as to say that drinking it makes you a good person but I'm sure that it's harder to be a vicious asshole while drinking a nice cup of hot tea, and isn't that what the holidays are all about? —Harry Cheadle, Senior Politics Editor Yoga When it feels like things are in a tailspin, and I can't stand reading one more headline or wondering why I'm bothering putting money into a 401(k) when Donald Trump could literally blow up the planet at any moment, there's really only one thing that consistently makes me feel better: yoga. For me, practicing yoga is the difference between near-constant low-grade anxiety about the state of the world and the ability to fucking chill about it. When I'm feeling shitty, I've learned to put those feelings aside for an hour and hit the mat instead. Nine times out of 10, I feel somewhat better afterwards. So yes, I am thankful for my yoga practice. (On a related note, I'm also thankful for weed, for very similar reasons.) —Kara Weisenstein, Associate Editor The 2017 World Series Champion Houston Astros This year I flew home to Houston, Texas, to visit my parents. The trip was supposed to be quick, just two days. It ended up being nine. Many of them were spent in the dark, without electricity. My trip was the same weekend another visitor came to town: Hurricane Harvey. Even as He began slowly churning in the Gulf and was projected to come knocking as soon as I touched down, I went ahead with my travel plans undeterred. As a Third Coast native, I'd lived through many a ‘cane, and figured the trip would be just a tad bit wetter than I'd hoped. I was wrong. Though my folks were largely spared , I was beginning to see—through Facebook, texts, calls—that many old friends, neighbors, colleagues, and relatives were not. The scope of destruction was massive, the exact kind you might expect when a year's worth of rainfall is wrenched from the clouds in just a few days . Everyone got touched. Efforts to recover were similarly massive. All the donated money and funds both federal and local helped people rebuild homes, surely, but spirits around the region were also in massive need of renovation. That came in the form of the Houston Astros. This was, in a word, unlikely. These are the Astros. Just a few short years ago they were the worst team in the sport . (The Dis-Astros they were sometimes called when I was growing up.) And even when they've managed to field good teams they always find a way to fuck things up. So when they found themselves this year in the World Series facing a favored Los Angeles Dodgers, the most expensive squad in baseball , there was nary a reason to believe they wouldn't be swept like they were the one and only other time they'd found themselves playing this late into the season. But they won. In seven thrilling, totally fucking insane games , they won. Quickly the photo updates of various rebuilding efforts and the lasting evidence of Harvey's destructive rumble were replaced on my Facebook feed with reaction videos of the last World Series out, photos of the various victories along the way, GIFs of improbable plays, and plans to attend the parade. Nothing will ever erase Hurricane Harvey's enormous impact on the city of Houston. But because of it, the Astro's championship season couldn't have come at a better time. —Brian McManus, Special Projects Editor My Fringe-Ass Dad My dad is fringe, in the same way Frank Reynolds is fringe —in fact, he’s a lot like Frank Reynolds, interspersed with a little bit of Homer Simpson, a dash of Harrison Ford, and a whole lot of Larry David. Once, he hit a deer while he was driving through rural Georgia in his sedan, and instead of doing anything about it, he left the chunk of fur that had lodged itself into his crumpled grill in place, neglected to clean the blood from his hood, and started calling his shitty four-door the “Deer Slayer 2000.” He rips cigs. He doesn’t pay parking tickets, as a rule. He’s been wearing the same army-green coat every winter for about a decade, despite the fact that there’s a gaping, tattered hole in the left elbow. Another good one: Five hours into a bender with my reprobate friends at a grimy Atlanta bar, after too many games of pool (couldn’t really see the balls) and air hockey (somehow wound up with bloody knuckles) on which we bet a pickle-back apiece, everyone in attendance—including, of course, my fringe-ass dad—decided to go to the Clermont Lounge . It’s a seedy, smoky strip club that’s really more of a dive bar than anything, and it is (for lack of virtually any other word in my vocabulary) fringe. But we didn’t have a way to get there. So my dad—who, thankfully, was sober enough to drive—had all eleven of us pile into his tiny, beat up sedan: Two in the front seat, seven in the back, and me and a buddy in the trunk. We all easily could’ve died, and though two people vomited on the way there, we made it, and everything turned out fine—better than fine. It was fucking awesome. We drank, and sang, and ran around like idiots, and danced our asses off. I bought my dad a lap dance. The point is this: My dad is extremely fringe, and I have never laughed harder, or marveled more, or appreciated to a deeper degree anything than I do his fringe-ass self. This Thanksgiving, I’ll eat turkey, and pet my dogs, and probably play a few games of Trivial Pursuit, all of which will be nice. But what I’m most excited about—what I’m most thankful for—is the chance to get weird with the lawless, depraved (and, by the way, huge-hearted, shockingly brilliant, impossibly selfless) psychopath who raised me. Here’s to you, Dad. Stay fringe. —Drew Schwartz, Junior Staff Writer Whitney and Brandy in 'Cinderella' While cleaning my apartment the other day, I was looking for some Whitney Houston to jam to. I stumbled upon the 1997 Rodgers Hammerstein's Cinderella soundtrack, which featured Brandy and Whitney Houston. This was the only version of Cinderella we were allowed to watch growing up, and for good reason—the movie sparked my love and appreciation for Whitney Houston and made me dream of being a princess like no other Disney movie had before. The soundtrack took me back to simpler days where every holiday season my mother, sister, and I would watch the scene with Brandy gliding around the dance floor with her prince. We were in awe of the beautiful ballroom filled with cool-colored gowns. From the mixed-race cast to the banging soundtrack, this movie was a huge part of my childhood. I am thankful for this version of Cinderella that was ahead of its time in so many ways. —Janae Price, Editorial Assistant These Things Image by Lia Kantrowitz Sometimes talking or writing without putting my foot in my mouth is hard work. I’m truly thankful I have a job where I don’t often have to express myself with words. In that vein, here is a collage of other things I’m thankful for. —Lia Kantrowitz, Senior Illustrator New Jersey I'm back at my mother's house right now in New Jersey for Thanksgiving, and I'll be here for four days—the longest stay I've had in my home state since I moved to New York five years ago. I don't miss this place until I'm here, but I often find myself defending it, even in Brooklyn. I only grew up once, but you'd be hard-pressed to convince me there's somewhere better to do it. I'm from a land that people go through to get somewhere better—to New York, to Philly, to the airport. It makes you restless, flamboyant, and (sometimes) overtly obnoxious. It's everything I enjoy about life. There's something in the air, beyond pollution, that will always make me feel at home here. Even just exiting the tunnel on the train from Manhattan, once it emerges on the other side of the Hudson, makes me feel different. The smokestacks. The factories. The toll booths and swamps and power lines. Finally I can say "fuck" every other word, and no one's going to say shit. In New Jersey, you learn things. You learn how to speak, to tell stories. You learn how to drive 80 miles an hour eight inches from the back of another car. You learn you're not fucking special. You don't have to make up your mind here. You can elect a man who might as well be the mascot for corruption, and then you can tell that guy to fuck off and pick the dude who's going to legalize pot. You can watch The Jersey Shore with irony and without irony, simultaneously. You can listen to Bon Jovi, and understand why he's brilliant and silly, and you can listen to Bruce Springsteen, and understand why he's brilliant and silly. Plus, we have better bagels than Long Island. And better emo music. Fuck them. —Alex Norcia, Copy Editor, VICE.com and VICE Magazine November 23, 2017 at 04:23PM