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iris-writes-things · 4 years

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Two Guys and a Baby: Day 11 part 1

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read up to 1 chapter ahead as a $1 Patreon patron!

"Oh my God…" Anthony mumbled, rubbing his hands in his face. "I've known you for ten years, how did I not see this coming?" "What do we do now?" "Well, obviously, I'm going to teach you how to cook. Starting with dessert."

Or, it's going to be a long night.

Chapter 14 of 20 Ongoing 2265 words Romance/Humor

That Tuesday morning, Crowley really wished he’d woken up by golden rays of sunlight filtering through old, dusty windows, surrounded by the warm smell of old books and the even warmer presence of Ezra at his side. But alas, Crowley had a responsibility and no way to move Adam’s travel bed to the bookshop, so they’d said — and kissed — their goodnights late the night before, and each gone home with a lighter heart and a spring in their step. And so he woke a tad colder and slightly more lonesome than he would have liked between his Egyptian cotton sheets to the sounds of Adam fussing. It was still an improvement to a few nights before.

And so he got up to feed Adam his breakfast.

Dunroamin Bakery & Patisserie smelled of butter and freshly baked goods. The fragrance met Crowley halfway around the block and if he hadn't already planned to swing by for a pastry or two, he sure did now.

Marjorie Potts, nicknamed Madame Tracy for reasons unknown to Crowley*, greeted him from behind the counter while Sgt. Seymour Shadwell** was scuttling about, preparing the cinnamon rolls. Crowley liked the older couple. Not just for their superb pastries, but for their story. Both widowed at sixty-five, they had found each other, fell in love, married and invested their life savings into opening a bakery to give them both something to keep busy. That was five years ago. Now, their little shop was a staple among London’s top food bloggers, even if the two only knew them as their regulars and neither of them really knew what a blog was.

(*Though, legend has it that she frequently earned some extra cash in uni by holding séances and reading people's fortunes and her stage name kind of stuck.)

(**Drillsergeant, retired, never deployed.)

"Good morning, love. What can I get you? That caramel coffee again?" Madame Tracy asked, already reaching for the coffeemaker. Shadwell prattled behind her with a vague air of jealousy. The man should know by now that he didn't have anything to fear from Crowley, but Madame Tracy insists he does that with everyone she calls 'love'.

"Please," Crowley said with a sigh that sounded more tired than he had hoped.

"Little Adam keeping you up all night?" she asked, handing Adam a dry biscuit. He ate it gratefully.

"What? Adam? No, he's better than I could have ever expected." He carefully took the paper cup of coffee Madame Tracy handed him over the counter and took a sip. His jaws tensed from the sweetness. It was perfect.

"Is it about your crush in the bookshop, then? Giving you sleepless nights?"

Crowley's face broke out in a wide, snake-like smile. "Well…"

"Ooh, so it is," Madame Tracy cooed. Shadwell murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'bleeding southern pansy'.

"He loves your chocolate croissants. Adam, too," he added. "We've… had something of a breakthrough."

"Have you, now?"

Crowley blushed. "He kissed me. Then we had brunch, and he held my hand the entire time...”

“But that’s wonderful!”

“Oh, and I quit my job."

Madame Tracy paused. She had already been bagging the chocolate croissants. Even the sergeant turned around with a wide-eyed stare. "You what?”

“I was just so done with their bullying, so when they came to fetch me yesterday I just handed in my resignation, effective pretty much immediately.”

“I didn’t think you had it in you, lad,” Shadwell remarked out loud for the first time that day.

“Frankly, neither did I,” Crowley shrugged. “But I’m glad. I mean, I can finally focus on my art again. And I’ll have plenty of time to spend with Ezra, until he gets sick of me.”

“Of course he won’t get sick of you, you old silly. But we’re very happy for you, aren’t we, sweetheart?” Madame Tracy said, turning to Shadwell and back to Crowley again as she handed him the bag of pastries. “You take this, love. On the house.”

“I… uh, thank you. That’s very sweet of you. Are you sure…?”

“Yes, we’re sure. Your coffee, too. Now, go on and surprise that young man of yours while the croissants are still warm. Oh, and do give him our regards.”

“I will,” Crowley said, starting on his way to the door. “Thanks again, really. I mean it.”

“We know, love,” she said, and waved him goodbye.

“Honestly, I wouldna’ have trusted that southern nancy boy to stand up for himself if someone held a gun on him. Lad might have a pair of stones on him after all,” Shadwell told his wife when he must have thought Crowley was out of earshot.

Madame Tracy shushed him.

By the time Crowley arrived at the bookshop, Ezra’s agent was there again. The bell over the door rang, but neither of them seemed to notice.

“Then it’s decided. No book tour, but you’ll sign a number of them in private. It’s really the perfect compromise.

Ezra nodded. “I’m inclined to agree with you, Gabriel.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Crowley said as he walked up to them. “I could help out, you know,” he suggested.

Ezra turned around and smiled at him. “Anthony!” he exclaimed. Crowley swore he was going in for a kiss, but he refrained from going through with it. Crowley blamed it on Gabriel. “How were you planning on helping out?”

Crowley smirked and shrugged. “Give me a year and I’ll forge your signature flawlessly.”

“Of course, you could.” Gabriel rolled his eyes.

Ezra patted Crowley’s shoulder, hand sliding down to rest at the small of his back. “Thank you for your offer, but I think my readers would prefer for it to be authentic.”

Despite very nearly jumping out of his skin, Crowley simply shrugged, putting on an air of fake nonchalance. After all, there was a warm hand on the small of his back and that was not something he had anticipated for that morning. “If you say so. It’s your wrist, angel.”

Gabriel glanced at them in a way Crowley knew all too well, but quickly hid it with the empty smile the American seemed to wear so often and clapped his hands with a gaiety that was just as synthetic. “Well then, now that we’ve cleared that up, I’ll leave you two to your brunch,” he said gesturing at the bag of pastries under Crowley’s arm. “But I do hope you’ll feel more comfortable with public appearances in the future.”

Ezra smiled softly, wrapping his arm around Crowley’s waist. “Well, who knows what the future might bring. I’ll see you around, then.”

“Right,” Gabriel said and turned on his heel, making for the door. “I’ll see you around.” And the door fell shut.

“Good morning, by the way, Anthony,” Ezra said, unable to suppress the smile that fought its way to his face.

“I… Morning, angel,” Anthony said, almost stammered, with a slight look of disbelief on his face.

Ezra tilted his head and looked up at Anthony. “Is something the matter?”

“You just…” Anthony tried and seemed to struggle to find the right words. “You just touched me, like that, in front of another man…” he nearly hissed, finally turning his surprise and panic outward.

Ezra, on the other hand, quirked an eyebrow. “Should I not have done that?”

“No. I mean, yes! I mean-- I just didn’t expect it, is all. I thought you were, you know, the slower type…”

“Oh, my dear Anthony...” Ezra smiled in genuine amusement as he removed Adam from Anthony’s arm and carefully placed him on the floorboards of the shop before turning his attention back to the other man. “Anthony, I've wanted this, you, for so long now, I can't bring myself to hide or hold back now. Besides, Gabriel knows. He doesn’t care that I’m the way I am. In fact, he encouraged me to confess to you. Sort of. He said watching my pining was painful, and he’s put up with it for seven years.”

“Ah, so with Gabe it’s fine, but with, for example, your family…"

A chill ran down Ezra's spine. "Out of the question," he said firmly.

"Just checking," Anthony mumbled, putting down his coffee and the bag of pastries on the shop's counter before snaking his arms around Ezra. "I shouldn't have said that."

"I appreciate the effort, my dear, but there's nothing to check," Ezra whispered, returning the embrace and burying his nose deep into the scent of Anthony's cologne. It calmed his nerves ever so slightly. "They were abundantly clear when I was fourteen, and when my ex-wife and I divorced, and they would be if they could see us now. And the worst part is, they would do it with the best of intentions."

"You know what the road to Hell is paved with," Anthony whispered in Ezra's ear as he petted a hand through his hair.

"Reasons their youngest won't show up to birthdays and Christmas anymore, or even return their phone calls."

Anthony chortled, which made Ezra smile.

He pulled back from the embrace to give the man a better look. "Anthony James Crowley, I hereby swear on my life that you will never have to formally meet my family."

Anthony laughed and kissed him, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Ezra Zacharie Fell, I wish my mum was alive to meet you. She would have loved you more than I do," Anthony joked. "But for real, Angela and Anathema have pretty much already adopted you as their new brother-in-law slash uncle, so if you'd be up for it, once Adam is back with his mothers, you could join us for family dinner, this Friday night?"

"I would love to."

Ezra had decided quite early on that he liked Anthony's family. If only because they were so different from his own. They were just so… Ezra wished informal wouldn't be the right word, but it was.

For starters, no one ever seemed to call anyone by their actual first names, unless for dramatic effect when someone was in trouble. But then again, Ezra wasn't under the impression that anyone ever got in trouble in their family in the first place. Mum and dad were just mum and dad, not mother and father. But none of that was even what Ezra liked best about them.

'Angie? Hey, it's me…' he heard Anthony from his usual window seat.

No, what he liked best was that their bonds were based on mutual trust and respect. That Anthony got what he needed to flourish as himself in his home situation. When they had nothing else, they had trust and respect, and while Ezra had practically everything else, he never had that.

'Yes, I know you're working, I'm sorry, but I just wanted to ask…'

Had he been younger, he might have resented Anthony for that. For his freedom. For having experienced everything Ezra had missed. But by now, thirteen years after just letting himself be himself, he had done the catching up he needed. At least, he certainly hoped so. Although, having dinner with one's technically-in-laws was not something he had planned on doing by the end of this week.

‘Would you and Annie mind if I brought along a plus one? Yes, I know it’s technically a plus two, shush...’

Of course, he knew Anathema and he knew of Angela. They were exceptional human beings and ever so like Anthony. Some say hate breeds hate, but Ezra could now say with absolute certainty that love breeds love as well. But even that knowledge didn’t stop his hands from shaking. He’d done the whole in-laws dance fifteen years earlier with Michaela and her parents. It had gone swimmingly then because he didn’t have any, as they say, ‘intentions’ with their daughter. Just a nice, kind, if a but bookish kindergarten teacher. But with Anthony, he did. Very much so. He wanted to hold Anthony's hand, for example, and hug him and kiss him and cuddle him in bed on cold days and go for trips to the beach on warm days. But more than any of that, he wanted to love Anthony in the way he could never love anybody else.

'So it's okay then? If he brings dessert? I'm sure that can be arranged.' Ezra became vaguely aware that Anthony was looking at him. 'Alright, Angie, you're the best. Thanks. See you on Friday.'

"Dessert? Me?" Ezra cried.

"Well yeah, it's your favourite course, so I figured it would be perfect," Anthony stated matter-of-factly. Then his face paled and grew slack with panic. "Oh no, was that wrong? Should I not have said that?"

"It's just--" and Ezra felt his cheeks grow red. "Dessert is usually the most complicated course to make…" he sighed. "And I haven't cooked for myself. Ever. Apart from maybe eggs and bacon, cold sandwiches," he thought for another second “and instant pasta.”

"Oh my God…" Anthony mumbled, rubbing his hands in his face. "I've known you for ten years, how did I not see this coming?"

"What do we do now?"

"Well, obviously, I'm going to teach you how to cook. Starting with dessert." Anthony smiled and patted Ezra’s cheek. It didn’t calm him down one bit. “Adam and I will leave a bit early today, since we’ll have to get groceries. Dinner at mine, 7 PM, no excuses. I’ll do the main course, then we’ll make dessert together, alright?”

By the time Anthony’s hands reached Ezra’s own and clasped them firmly, he remembered how to breathe again.

“Alright.”

#fanfic #EN #Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #Human AU

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freedom-shamrock · 5 years

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Bi the Pricking of my Thumbs #5

<< Chapter 4

Cautionary note: references past abusive/neglectful parenting.

Also on AO3. If you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

Chapter 5

"Adrien! Nino's here," Papa's voice carried easily into Marinette's room. "Come down and help him carry up the snacks."

"Ooh!" Despite the last three weeks of freedom to eat, do, and be what he wanted, Adrien was still visibly excited about both the arrival of his boyfriend and unlimited Dupain-Cheng treats. "Coming, Papa."

Luka draped their arms over Marinette's shoulders, brushing their cheeks together. "It's nice to see him so happy."

"I know." She smiled, contentedly leaning against them. "Getting to be part of that really makes it all worth it." Adrien had the smaller bedroom, formerly the Dupain-Cheng guest room, and he insisted he didn't mind at all. But it was nice for them to have a place to hang out, all the teens that tended to show up usually in twos and threes, that didn't feel like they were taking over the living room. So Marinette rearranged part of her room, letting Adrien decorate it with beanbags and a ridiculous TV set up for movies and gaming.

"Is it weird having him as your brother now?" Luka asked, giving her temple a light kiss. "I mean, you had a crush on him for a couple of years, and he had a crush on Ladybug for about as long."

Marinette shook her head. "That all died down a long time ago, and he's been such a good friend to me on both sides of the mask." It had been a little terrifying when Luka first told her they'd figured out she was Ladybug. She was grateful they'd waited until after Hawk Moth was in police custody to reveal they'd known almost as long as they'd known each other. They'd also known Adrien's secret, but waited to bring it up until she knew. She and Adrien had decided to keep their superhero identities on a need-to-know basis, for now, at least, and most people didn't need to know.

"No, no, no," Adrien said from somewhere just below her bedroom door. "You go up first."

"You just want to watch me walk away," Nino teased.

"And your point is?" Adrien demanded.

Marinette could imagine his expression and the shrug he'd always used at Chat Noir, but never as Adrien. She giggled and crossed her arms so she could comfortably rest her hands on Luka's shoulders.

"Goodness he's more direct and sassy than he used to be," Luka said, smothering their own laugh in her shoulder. "That's nice, too. No more guessing where he stands or what he wants."

"Hurry up, boys," Marinette called. "It's going to start in less than a minute, and I don't think we want to miss any of this."

Two sets of feet thudded up the stairs, as both Nino and Adrien carried up platters of treats, to set beside the TV. Adrien looked at Luka and Marinette, and she caught a glimpse of his plotting-Chat-Noir face. He swiftly flopped into the beanbag beside them, patting the space in front of him. "I saved a spot for you Neen."

Nino looked and rolled his eyes. "My butt is not nearly as small as Nettie's. I'm not gonna fit there."

"I'll have you know," Marinette pointed out, "that my butt is bigger than it looks."

Adrien snorted with laughter. "You're not wrong. Henceforth I shall call thee…"

"No! Absolutely not!" Marinette squirmed in Luka's hold to bat at Adrien's hand. "I will not answer to Ladybutt."

Luka buried their face in her neck, but she could feel them shaking with laughter.

Adrien flashed her the saddest kitten face is his repertoire. Then he turned it on Nino. "Come cuddle with me," he whined. "My sister is being so mean to me in this difficult time. I'm just a touch starved boy in need of emotional support."

Nino tipped his head back to look at the ceiling, before his posture sagged. "Fine." He drew the word out. "But we need to talk to your therapist about using your past trauma to manipulate your boyfriend."

"Yes!" Adrien moved back to provide a little more room. "I am your barnacle. Come be my ship."

Marinette couldn't hold back the gales of laughter and she didn't even try.

"Dude…" Nino's face was red. "You can't just say shit like that." He settled into his designated spot, not seeming to mind being pulled back against his cuddly boyfriend.

The news show returned from its commercial break, and Marinette snatched up the remote to unmute the audio.

"Welcome to today's first segment of Face to Face, I'm your host Nadja Chamack." The familiar news anchor sat on her pristine couch, but there was no one across from her, signaling that this would not be her usual show. "I'm breaking from format tonight to share a recorded interview with Adrien Agreste from last night. As all of Paris is aware, Adrien's father, Gabriel Agreste was apprehended at Paris Pride Fortnight last month by none other than Ladybug and Chat Noir. With the revelation that Monsieur Agreste was the villain Hawk Moth, the value of his fashion house plummeted, and his son vanished from the public eye." She looked straight into the camera, all good humor wiped off her face, an effect that was creepy. "Last night, Adrien shared with me a story of a broken home. Please be advised that the content of this video includes a frank discussion of child abuse which may be distressing to some viewers."

The camera focused on Nadja's screen, where photos and videos were usually displayed. And after a moment, the studio faded in from black, revealing Adrien sitting on the guest couch.

"Thank you for meeting with me Adrien," Nadja said, her voice much less chipper than usual.

Adrien nodded. "Thank you for having me. And for being willing to do this on my terms." Being able to record the show, instead of performing it live, had been his therapist's suggestion for keeping his anxiety at bay.

Nadja smiled, tipping her head slightly. "First, I wish to offer my condolences. This must be a very difficult time."

"It's weird," Adrien admitted. "It's both difficult but also the easiest thing I've ever done." His hand came up to rub at the back of his neck.

"Can you tell me what's difficult about it?" she asked gently.

"It's... " He stared off into space a moment. "It's hard to wrap your head around something like this. I mean. I knew my father was not a particularly nice man. But I had no idea he was Hawk Moth. It's... " He huffed. "I ask myself at least ten times a day why I didn't see it, how I didn't realize I was living with a terrorist."

"That does sound really difficult," Nadja agreed. "But you know Paris doesn't blame you, right?"

He gave her a rueful smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it every time someone tells me that." He shrugged. "I guess I'm harder on myself than everyone else is."

"What about the situation has been easy for you?" Nadja asked.

"I'm actually happier than I've ever been." Adrien's real smile lit up the screen. "One of my very best friends had already asked her parents if I could move in with them before the arrest."

"Before?" Nadja asked.

Adrien nodded. "Things were… not good living with my father. And she'd seen that, and made a contingency plan for me." He chuckled. "That's just sort of the way she is."

Luka snorted.

"Shush, you." Marinette poked him gently in the thigh.

"And after the arrest, it really made the most sense to just go with that plan." Contentment was clear on TV Adrien's face. "I haven't had a real family since… well… possibly ever. I mean, things were better when my mom was around, but my father was already so controlling, even back then. When she vanished, it just got worse." He sighed. "I have new parents now. We're working on the adoption process."

"Adoption?" Nadja asked in surprise. "Aren't you seventeen? Why would you look at adoption at this point?"

"Do you have a family, Nadja?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

"I really, really want that," he explained. "And I want to know that I'm going to have that for the rest of my life. I love having people I can call mama and papa. I never called my father that. There was… a lot of distance between us. A lot of neglect and unreasonable expectations. I know Papa is proud of me. There was no way Gabriel Agreste was ever going to be proud of me."

"Gabriel neglected you?" she asked. It was clearly the first she'd heard this detail.

Marinette reached out to rest a hand on Adrien's shoulder as the TV version of himself nodded. "It was common to go weeks without seeing him, though we lived in the same house. I ate meals alone, when we were scheduled to eat together. He forgot about my birthdays and stopped celebrating holidays that were important to my mom. He'd promise to show up for things, only to no-show. If I got upset about anything, he'd tell me I was too emotional, and threatened to take away what few freedoms I had. School was a common one."

Nadja stared at him, silent for a moment. "He threatened you because you had emotions?"

Adrien nodded.

"And… school? What do you mean? How did he use that as a threat?"

"I was homeschooled for years, you know," he said, conversational and bright. "I begged to go to school so I could make friends. I felt like Pinoccio, a puppet who wanted to be a real boy. I actually had to run away to school, repeatedly, before he let me attend." He sighed. "But I think he just wanted leverage. The threat of pulling me out of school would get me to cooperate with all sorts of stuff I didn't want to do."

Nadja covered her mouth, looking ill.

"Did she throw up during your interview?" Nino asked. His voice was rougher than usual. Even though he'd already heard all of this, it was still upsetting him.

"No… well, not while I was there," Adrien said. "But it gets better here." He pointed to the screen.

"You're incredibly resilient, Adrien," Nadja said softly. "How about you tell me about your clothes." She gestured to his outfit. "This is a new look for you, and it looks fantastic."

On-screen Adrien grinned and stood up to give the camera the full effect. "Yeah. This was made by my best friend. She has an online shop by the name of Maribug, and she's designed a whole new wardrobe for me."

"It's quite striking," Nadja said. "Much more vibrant than what we've grown accustomed to."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah. My father used to tightly control what I was allowed to wear. He wanted me to project an image of bland perfection. Maribug really knows me, though. And since my father deprived me of the opportunity to come out during Pride, she's created some outfits that fit my aesthetic preferences while also evoking the bi pride flag." The shirt was a pink asymmetric v-neck, with an off-center front zip. His belt was a bold purple. His pants were bright blue and snug, showing off the body Chat Noir had built up.

"Oh," Nadja said in surprise. "Congratulations."

Adrien swiped the remote and muted it again. "The rest is just niceties. You've all heard me say goodbye before."

"You meant it when you said you were happy, right?" Nino asked, twisting to look at his boyfriend.

Adrien nodded. "Really, really happy," he promised.

"I'm glad for you," Luka said. "You deserve it."

"Now that, that's out of the way," Adrien said, leaning forward and nudging the DVD player. "It's time to introduce you all to Nanatsu no Taizai. You're gonna love it."

⁂

Again, huge thanks to @galahadwilder for letting me have a go at this. I really enjoyed it, and it was nice to get to share this side of Pride.

And thanks to all who have read and commented, helping me stay motivated to finish this despite my busy schedule. I'm glad you joined me for this journey.

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #my writing #Pride #Bi Pride #galahadwilder #Bi-Drien #Bi-Nette #Bi the Pricking of my Thumbs #Fluff #happy ending

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megsblackfirewrites · 7 years

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An Alpha Omega: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jack showed John into his dorm building and smiled at the Omegas that froze in fright as they caught John’s scent. “It’s okay,” he said. “He’s with me.”

John kept his head down, murmuring a soft hello to those that greeted him first. He didn’t attempt to interact with anyone else, letting them have their privacy and space in a section of the college carved out just for them. When they got to the stairwell, John shook his head.

“I hate that places like this are necessary,” he murmured. “They’re so scared of me walking past them.”

“The Alphas around here are assholes,” Jack agreed. “I wish we didn’t have to be sectioned off like royal concubines or something. Just feels like it drives home the point that Omegas need to be protected from the big scary Alphas. And ourselves because reasons.”

John let out a soft chuckle as he ruffled Jack’s hair. They walked down to Jack’s room and ducked inside to collect Jack’s papers. There was a note from Vanessa saying she was going to be late getting back to the dorm because of a lab she had to do on short-notice. She’d included the room number and supervising TA with an underlined “just in case”.

John stood near the door, his eyes moving of the room carefully. It was filthy, covered in dirty laundry and paper plates, and eraser shavings. They hadn’t had time to clean up before their parents arrived between classes, Jack freaking out, and Vanessa trying to keep him from jumping out the window to escape his nerves.

“You and Van really made this home,” John teased. “Reminds me of your room after a sleepover.”

“We’re two busy college students; who has time to clean?” Jack laughed as he swung his bag over his shoulder.

“Clearly not you two,” John smirked before he opened the door to the hallway. “Wait.”

John stepped out into the hallway, the hair around the nape of his neck growing thicker. Jack smelt why immediately; there was another Alpha on the floor. Jack growled faintly, easing up behind his father. The other Alpha was massive, leaning against the wall like he owned the place. He looked dangerous, his arms covered in tattoos and thick leather covering most of his rotund body.

“It’s okay!” Jamieson squeaked as he hurried out of his room. “Roadie��s with me! Roadie, this is Jack; he’s the Alpha of our group. Jack, Jack’s older twin, this is Mako Rutledge, my Alpha.”

All the hostility bled out of Mako’s body and he relaxed against the wall. He still looked like he could kill a man with his bare hands, but it wasn’t directed at them anymore. His dark brown eyes flicked from Jack to John before he bowed his head.

“Hey.”

John relaxed a little and inclined his head. “Pleasure to meet you; sorry about that,” he said.

A quick smile pulled at Mako’s face before he chuckled. “Be worried too if it were my kid about to walk out into the grasp of a big Alpha,” he grunted. He looked at Jamieson and leaned over to snuff at his shaggy blond hair. “Stay outta trouble.”

“I’ll be on me best behaviour,” Jamie promised as he leaned up to kiss Mako’s nose. “Love you, you big lug.”

Mako chuckled before he walked away, his huge frame filling up the hallway. Jamie let out a happy sigh before he grinned at Jack.

“I owe Mako my life,” he said happily. “Got me off the streets and set me straight. Guy’s all heart. And stomach.”

“A very protective Alpha,” John nodded. “Was worried we were going to have a fight.”

“He’d-a won,” Jamie grinned.

“No, he wouldn’t have,” John gave him a look. “An Alpha doesn’t lose where his kids are concerned.”

Jamie made an “ooh” sound and bounced in place before hurrying off. Jack lifted an eyebrow before he followed after his friend. He had no idea what that was all about. Jamieson was a bit of an odd one; sweet as can be, but odd.

John kept pace beside him all the way to his class. People stared at them as they passed, more than one rubber-necking as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Jack always found it hilarious how everyone was shocked about how identical he and John were. Sarah liked to joke that Jack was born from Immaculate Conception; John never argued with her about it. As far as Jack was concerned, he didn’t have a sire and, concerning what he’d learned, he never wanted to meet the bastard.

The doors to the classroom were shut; not surprising considering it was Thursday; so most of the class was waiting outside. Every head turned towards them as Jack leaned in his usual place and John mirrored him. John’s eyes closed for a moment as he took a deep breath. His shoulders shifted and a low growl left his throat before he settled back down.

“Hey, uh, cutie,” one of the Alpha’s grinned nervously as he shuffled closer, “who’s your friend?”

“Jonathan Morrison,” John smiled sweetly at the man. “Jack’s father.”

The Alpha paled immediately; pretty impressive considering how pale the man was to begin with. He let out a squeak that sounded like “nice to meet you” before beating a hasty retreat. John snorted in amusement before he leaned over and dropped his cheek onto Jack’s head.

“Idiots,” he grumbled. “Heads shoved so far up their own asses they can’t even tell relations on sight or by smell.”

Jack smiled and then shivered as a familiar scent tickled his nose. He leaned forward and grinned as Gabriel walked up. Gabriel eyed John for a moment before he returned Jack’s smile.

“Hey, who’s your friend?” he asked.

“Gabriel, this is my father, John,” Jack smiled.

“Oh, so this is the Alpha that owns all those shirts you wear,” Gabriel grinned. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Morrison.”

“John,” John corrected as he stared Gabriel down. “Mr. Morrison is a little too formal for my liking. I’m a hardworking man, not some politician.”

Gabriel nodded and glanced at Jack. “So, when’d your father get into town?” he asked.

“Couple days ago,” Jack shrugged. “Sort of been a whirlwind since then. Finally calmed down enough to show him around my classes.”

“And what does the old man think of this learning?” Gabriel shot him a rather cruel smirk.

That wasn’t like Gabriel at all. Was he threatened by John? That didn’t make any sense; John was his father. That was a totally different Alpha-Omega relationship than what Jack would get with a mate. Why was everyone so weird about this?

“They aren’t as smart as they think they are,” John grinned. “Take it from the old farmer.”

Gabriel laughed as the professor walked past and unlocked the doors to the lecture hall. They filed in, taking their usual seats. The professor was giving John a wide berth, his eyes a little jumpy every time John moved. Most of the Alphas left him alone for once and Jack was able to take notes without having the scratch out someone’s number on the corner of his paper. Not even Gabriel had ever been able to keep him from being bothered during class; the joys of being unclaimed in a room full of unmated Alphas.

“Your friend is...persistent,” John commented when they were alone after class.

“Oh?” Jack blushed a little. “He’s great.”

“Mmm,” John smiled. “Just be careful. I would hate to have to hide a body that size. I don’t think I could get him back to Indiana to bury in the cornfield.”

Jack let out a snort of laughter and hit his dad’s shoulder. Like John would actually kill anyone!

Midterms swept down like a hawk. Suddenly, everyone was on edge, ready and looking for a fight. Alphas were going into rut all over the place, their stress levels so high that their bodies triggered ruts to help them relieve themselves. That set off a chain-reaction of heats that left most of the Omega dorms miserable and constantly seeking out pain-killers for how intense their guts were churning.

No one had time to actually have sex between studying and running to classes.

Jack was handing out a lot of his dad’s clothing to try to help alleviate the pain everyone felt. His floor thanked him profusely, waddling around in John’s huge sweaters and shirts. Jamie started handing out Mako’s clothing too, smiling when Mei snuggled down into a massive sweater and sighed in delight. Jack was surprised by the number of cutesie shirts that Mako had, but Jamie just grinned and reminded him that Mako was all heart.

Other Alphas got in on the exchange too. Jack and Vanessa both agreed that the Alphas were just hoping to look like they’d claimed most of the dorms, but the Alphas would never openly confess to such things. If they really cared about the Omegas, they wouldn’t have waited until October to show concern about their painful heats.

John spent a lot of his time lying on the couches in the common room under a pile of miserably Omegas with their noses buried in his chest. He didn’t mind; Jack couldn’t remember ever seeing his dad so happy in his life. It was like John had unofficially adopted a bunch of kids; that was an Alpha’s paradise.

The Omegas started moving to classes in groups. No one wanted to get caught on their own. Vanessa got into a lot of fights, dragging Alphas to the ground without a problem as she protected the Omegas in her classes. Fights were everywhere and security was scrambling to keep on top of it. They were floundering and Jack wondered how long it would be before someone died.

Vanessa’s last exam ran late. It was only supposed to be three hours, but the instructor had allowed for an extra hour when over half the class was still writing at the two and a half hour mark. There were four other Omegas hurrying along with her towards the dorms and one Beta whose Alpha twin was stuck in volleyball practice and couldn’t escort them. One of the Omegas was whimpering, glancing around as the scent of Alphas in rut grew stronger.

“Just keep moving,” Vanessa smiled reassuringly. “We’re almost there.”

“Shit,” the Beta hissed and tried to speed up.

Vanessa bared her teeth as they were forced to stop. Three big Alphas were blocking the way forward and a handful of Betas were pacing behind them. One of the Omegas hid behind the Beta, whimpering and sobbing that he didn’t want to be raped.

“Oh, come on, honey; exams are over,” one of the Alphas smiled. “Don’t you want to work off all of that stress?”

“Back off,” Vanessa growled. “We want to get back to our dorms. That’s it.”

“Of course the false-Omega wants to,” another Alpha sneered. “Bet you want to fuck everyone on your floor, right?”

“Ew,” Vanessa grimaced. “I’m not one of you fuckheads.”

“What did you call me?” the last Alpha snarled.

“A fuckhead; clean yer damn ears out,” Vanessa growled.

They took the bait. They advanced, their eyes only on her. She glanced at the Beta and pointed with her chin. He nodded and grabbed the other four Omegas, pushing them past the Alphas. The other Betas formed a protective circle around them, hurrying them along. She tried not to feel jealous; no one would do that for her outside of her family pack. That’s what she got for not rolling over at an Alpha’s feet and begging them to fuck her.

She shifted forms in time to avoid getting beaten into the ground. More Alphas bled out of the shadows as three sets of jaws tore at her growing fur. Claws tore her shoulders and back open as she fought to stay alive. This wasn’t a claiming or a rape; this was murder. They were going to kill her. She knew this, knew it in the deepest part of her soul. They’d been waiting for her, waiting since the fight in the dorms to eliminate her, to eliminate what they saw as unwanted competition.

She snarled and snapped, driving the first three Alphas back a few steps before the new ones moved in. Teeth settled in her shoulder and shook furiously, picking her off of the ground a few inches before slamming her back down. She whimpered, feeling stars dancing behind her eyes. Her tail was pulled painfully until it was barely hanging on by a few tendons. She wailed, kicking out and striking the offender in the jaw. They stumbled back a step or two, rubbing at their jaw as their yellow eyes rolled in their sockets.

Claws settled on her hips and she bucked, striking out like a mule. Hard claws drove into the attacker’s chest, but she was already flipping over and receiving a number of blows to the head. She was bleeding, her head was spinning, and she felt bile crawling up her throat. She was one Omega against a number of Alphas; she didn’t stand a chance.

She was dead. She was so dead. This wasn’t how she wanted to die! This wasn’t fair! Why the fuck were Alphas allowed to do this? This wasn’t fair!

“VAN!”

Something sandy-furred and yowling slammed into one of the Alphas. She saw white teeth flashing before a huge Alpha bowled over two of her attackers. The newcomers snarled and crowded around her, the sand-furred one snapping angrily before they turned to press their nose against her shoulder.

“Van?” Jamie asked.

“Still alive,” she coughed out. “You a fuckin’ dingo?”

Jamie giggled and nodded. “Yer a coyote,” he said. “We’re even.”

Vanessa managed a smile before she dropped her head back to the ground. The Alpha paced in front of her, his huge belly almost touching the ground. His bottom jaw was too big for his face, forcing the canines up and over his top lip, giving him a pig-like appearance.

“Let’s kick their asses, Roadie,” Jamie growled.

“Too many,” Mako growled. “Not yet.”

Jamie whined as the Alphas started pressing in again. One yelped as a small, gray and brown thing slammed into them, snarling and pulling furiously on their scruff. The pup got knocked aside, but before the Alpha could retaliate and tear the pup to shreds, Joel smashed their head into the cement and herded Jesse over to where Jamie was cackling.

“Hey,” Vanessa coughed as she managed to roll onto her stomach and get an elbow under her. “Yer late.”

Jesse whined and licked her cheek, bushy tail wagging as Miyu and Joel paced with Mako. She nuzzled her brother as more shifted people started arriving. They encircled her, snarling and clawing at the ground. The Alphas were staring at the ring in disbelief. Where there had only been one Omega, now there was a pack ready to tear them apart. One took a step forward, hackles raised and yellow eyes wide with fury, but stilled as two figures stepped into sight.

They weren’t large wolves, but they commanded respect immediately. Vanessa stared in awe as the grays took their place at the head of the pack. Brilliant blue eyes watched her for a moment before the elder of the pair reared onto his hind legs and roared. The rest of the pack answered, braying and yowling their challenge.

The Alphas all tucked their tails and fled, silent even though there were obvious trails of liquid behind a number of them. Jesse bounced forward braying a challenge, but Hanzo; white and yellow, that was a weird combination; reached out and dragged him back by the scruff.

“Joel, get her to the hospital,” John said as he turned around. “Thank you, Mako, for getting here ahead of us. I don’t think she would be in as coherent a state if you hadn’t.”

Mako huffed softly and grumbled something about it not being a problem. John pressed his forehead to Mako’s before he knelt down to lick over Vanessa’s ears. Her tail thumped against the ground and she squirmed in place. Jack pressed in against her side, whimpering and licking her cheek.

“You look like shit,” he said. “What were you thinking?”

“Save the others?” she shrugged. “Ow.”

“No more talking,” Joel ordered as he gently grabbed her scruff and shoulder in his jaws.

Vanessa let herself hang from his jaws as he hurried towards the medical building. She was already shifted back to her proper form by the time he shouldered the doors open and dropped her on one of the gurneys. Her head swam and she let out an “oomph” before she passed out.

Everything smelt like blood. Gabriel stared at the Alphas licking their wounds and tried to make sense of it all. No one was talking about what had happened, but he had heard rumours all week about how they were going to make the ‘fake Omega’ pay. He didn’t know Vanessa very well, only ever thought about her when Jack brought her up, but he knew how the rest of the population felt.

They hated her. Hated her because she was unclaimed and refused to accept any of them no matter how hard they tried to woo her. Not that Gabriel would call what they were doing ‘wooing’; it was like they didn’t know how to act around an unclaimed Omega, pretending that she was going to go down on their cock because they said ‘hi’ to her. But to go this far?

“We have to go to the police,” Gabriel whispered as he pulled Gregory to the side.

“Yah, that bitch is going to get charged for this,” Gregory grinned.

“What?” Gabriel stared at him. “No, you idiot; we have to let them know that there’s an injured Omega out there.”

“Are you crazy?” Gregory’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “You want to help her?”

“Yes,” Gabriel blinked. “She was attacked.”

“She deserves it,” Gregory snapped.

“For what?” Gabriel demanded. “Not rolling over whenever an Alpha walks up to her? For beating up trespassing Alphas in the Omega dorm building? For daring to shout so she can be heard?”

“Well, no,” Gregory coughed and looked away. “She’s….”

“Faking?” Gabriel growled. “Have you ever smelt her, Greg? Or are you just trusting the words of three beaten Alphas that went into the Omega dorms hoping to fuck every unclaimed Omega like toys?”

“She needs a good knot in her,” Gregory grumbled.

“I’m done,” Gabriel threw his hands up. “I’m so fucking done with this conversation. Come talk to me when you can respect an Omega. This is such utter bullshit.”

He turned and headed for the front of the building. If he could just get to security and tell them what happened and which Alphas were involved, this whole thing could be resolved quickly. He just had to get there and….

“No one’s leaving the building,” the dorm coordinator growled and stepped in front of him.

“Excuse me?” Gabriel lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t remember there being a lockdown.”

“It was put into effect a few minutes ago,” the Alpha sniffed. “To make sure that no…evidence leaves.”

“So the police have already been notified,” Gabriel sighed in relief.

“Yes,” the Alpha nodded. “And I hope they get to the bottom of this attack. To think that Alphas can’t walk around the school without getting attacked.”

Gabriel blinked and stared at the man. “You…you’re not serious,” he asked.

“Why would I not be?” the Alpha snorted. “Someone is attacking my friends; of course I want to know what’s going on.”

“They weren’t attacked! They did the attacking!” Gabriel shouted. “Are you dense?”

“Excuse me?” the Alpha bristled.

“They’re covered in one scent,” Gabriel bristled right back, unafraid of this pompous peacock. “You expect me to believe that they were all jumped by the same person? Ten people? Stop deluding yourself.”

“I think you should return to your dorm room before I send the cops to interrogate you,” the Alpha growled.

“Go right ahead,” Gabriel smiled as he turned away. “I would love to tell them all about this conversation.”

He stalked through the halls up to his dorm room, growling and fuming the whole way. He couldn’t believe the bullshit that was going on. This wasn’t fucking possible. How could they be acting like this?

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob to his room and shivered. Was this all intentional? Had the entire dorm building been in on the attack? It didn’t seem possible but, but what if? He shivered again and slipped inside, hurrying over to his laptop after he locked the door.

He needed to get everything down on paper, just in case. He didn’t want to think about what might happen to him if the others figured out just how not okay he was with the attack. He had to survive. He had to survive for his poor Jack. What would his darling do if his Alpha was killed?

#Reaper76 #Vanessa McCree #ABO dynamics #fighting #blood

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degenerate-perturbation · 7 years

Note

what dorf wardens/inquisitors do you have?

quite a few!

Wardens

Magna Brosca is a big ole lesbian with a huge taste of the dramatic. Her card is The World. She wears the lose flippy leather dress armor the whole game, swinging around a Huge Sword, because she feels it contributes to her aesthetic. when she gets out of Orzammar, and realizes upon what precipice she stands, she becomes more and more preoccupied with her legacy. she wants to be a hero celebrated for all eternity; impermanence troubles her. In her main timeline, she romances Leliana. They have an adorable Xena/Gabrielle dynamic. In an AU, she romances Morrigan--unlike Tabris, she is very forthright in her intentions. Her relationship with Morrigan is rather more belligerent and contentious. In another set of AUs, her story is intricately tied to that of...

Igraine Aeducan. Her card is The Tower. I wrote a bit about her canon timeline here. If both she and Magna are recruited, Magna takes charge of their adventure, preventing Igraine from making any of the awful choices she does in her canon, but still forcing her through the character development she would experience anyway. Igraine leaves the experience changed for the better, but in this timeline, gets to live, as Magna chooses to complete the ritual. The two engage in a rather contentious but ultimately sweet relationship as surfacers. (Magna has...a bit of a type.)

But if neither of them are recruited, they run into each other in the Deep Roads following Igraine’s exile and Magna’s re-escape from jail. Igraine manages to convince Magna to join her in a bid to regain the throne of Orzammar, promising her glory and power in return for help. Magna’s desire to stick it to the nobility overcomes her good sense, and she agrees. They embark on a long adventure of twisting skulduggery, blackmail, the Carta, the nobility, growing closer and closer as they do, leading Igraine to feel the first stirrings of real desire in her life. Ultimately, they are successful. Igraine is crowned queen of Orzammar...and immediately reneges on her promise and has Magna thrown in prison again, though she doesn’t have the heart to kill her, choosing instead to visit her often in her cell to feverishly justify her choices. Later, Magna predictably escapes once more...but not before stopping by the queen’s bedchambers to slit her throat.

(I’m planning to eventually write a story about the 4 possibile timelines for these two.)

Petra Aeducan is a sweet middle aged lady who romances Wynne. Her card is the Queen of Pentacles. She is endlessly forgiving of her shitty brothers, and of everyone in general. If she could deal with darkspawn by giving them a talking-to and ordering them into time-out, she would. She is a lesbian; hence her long bachelorhood. Meeting and having the opportunity to love Wynne is a joy to her, though at their ages and in their circumstances, it is an unusually difficult thing to make work.

Brunhilde Aeducan is more or less a typical bubbly beautiful idealized Mary Sue type Aeducan who romances Sigrun. Her card is the Queen of Wands. She’s into opera, activism, and blackmail. We made her up because we felt Sigrun deserved to be shipped with a Mary Sue. Brunhilde takes wooing Sigrun extremely seriously, to absolute excess. Sigrun is initially flattered, but quickly becomes uncomfortable with this level of romantic attention from someone as high as a Paragon and a princess. Brunhilde doesn’t understand why she possibly would be. It takes them a while to settle into something more genuine, where Brunhilde is not performing quite so much.

There is an AU where Petra, Brunhilde and Igraine are sisters, in a kind of Maiden/Mother/Crone situation. This complicates the family dynamics quite a bit.

Igor Aeducan is honestly a bit of a bastard. His card is the King of Pentacles He’s in his forties and he’s more or less an ideal dwarf noble. He is conniving and prideful, convinced of his own eminent worth. He doesn’t do actively terrible things the way Igraine does, but is not particularly invested in the well being of others. He’s here to Win. Despite his amorality, he is a boisterous, energetic person that many enjoy being around. He prefers men, particularly older, larger men with some meat on their bones and hair on their chests. Alistair was never viewed as anything but an irrelevant child; Zevran was a one-time lay out of boredom; Sten was an enduring sexual fixation but one that ultimately did not come to any fruition. However, his obsession with Loghain lasts longer than any passing sexual interest. He views Loghain as a true equal and a worthy opponent, as a kindred spirit. His interest in defeating the Blight is eclipsed by his interest in defeating Loghain--which he would view as an elaborate manner of flirting. Loghain doesn’t take particularly well to being romanced at first, but Igor is extremely persistent.

Also, he speaks with a thick Russian accent for some reason. All my dwarves are at least a little Russian.

Inquisitors:

Red Cadash is an atrocious greedy beastly child, who has no problem thugging her way to power as Inquisitor. Her card is the Devil. She likes gold, rough sex, and having people bow down to her. She’s not really a bad person--she cares about people, especially the downtrodden, though she would never allow that to affect her image--but her materialism and thirst for the validation she was denied her whole life tends to overcome her decision making process. She is particularly young and brash. She romances Iron Bull, but it does not...end well.

Vanka Cadash is Red’s adoptive mother and mob boss. She is a trans lady in her late forties. She wants to change, she really does. She doesn’t want to keep being ruthless now that she no longer strictly has to be. But old habits die hard. She romances Blackwall. It’s an interesting dynamic. Both of them are attempting to leave behind criminal pasts--but unlike Blackwall, Vanka feels little guilt for her actions, and is a lot worse at leaving them behind. But, honest, she’s doing her best to be good this time! Unless you threaten her ‘family’. Then it’s murder time.

Don Cadash is Vanka’s adoptive mob brother. She looks out for him, because he’s family, but he’s not really much of a smuggler. A lyrium accident in his youth left him convinced of his identity as the lost heir to the throne of Orzammmar, prone to bouts of giddiness, and an inclination to tilt at windmills. (Yes, he is an extended Don Quixote joke.) His card is the Knight of Swords. If Inquisitor, he is delighted by Finally getting the recognition due to him as royalty, and flirts persistently with Scout Harding, a Beauteous Maiden in need of Rescue. (She finds it pretty cute. He’s just so harmless and ridiculous.) He is fond of large hats and of challenging people to duels.

Please do ask more about them!!

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theconservativebrief · 6 years

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Centrist Democrats are bringing a knife to a gunfight.

The Democratic Party is on a progressive trajectory. It’s moved leftward on policies from health care (Medicare-for-all) to higher education (free college). In Congress, liberal bills are proliferating like kudzu. Party leaders are rolling out new ideas on tougher antitrust enforcement and plans to boost teacher pay and strengthen labor unions, and they voice increasing skepticism of immigration enforcement.

In response, moderates are also moving left, abandoning some of their most contentious ideas (no one openly talks about the need to cut entitlements anymore) and adopting essentially shrunken-down ideas that reflect fundamentally the same inclination to increase the scope of government economic activism rather than offering a truly distinct platform.

Third Way, the premier policy and advocacy organization for business-friendly Democrats, recently met in Columbus, Ohio, to “offer an attractive alternative to the rising Sanders-style populist left in the upcoming presidential race,” NBC News’s Alex Seitz-Wald reported from the event. Third Way president Jonathan Cowan was even more pointed in comments to New York magazine’s Gabriel Debenedetti, saying, “the ideas primary starts now. So we’re actually doing this for a very straightforward reason: to stand up and launch a serious, compelling economic alternative to Sanderism.”

But judging by Third Way’s 12-point plan for the American economy, dubbed “A New Generation of Ideas: A Social Contract for the Digital Age,” there’s little evidence to suggest that they have ideas that are serious, compelling, or even an actual alternative to the ideas of the left.

Bernie Sanders as an individual person remains profoundly controversial in Democratic Party politics, but he’s only one of many political figures who spent the Obama years agitating for a more populist agenda (a few years ago, Elizabeth Warren was public enemy No. 1 at Third Way gatherings).

Going back to well before the 2016 primary, and with battle lines that were drawn somewhat differently than the Bernie-versus-establishment fight, a progressive faction in Congress fought against grand bargains on entitlements, for a public option in health care, for teacher-friendly education policies, stricter bank regulation, more skepticism of free trade deals, more enthusiasm about minimum wage hikes, and less focus on deficit reduction.

Disagreements continue, of course, but centrists’ latest effort to regroup and strike back against a resurgent left underscores the extent to which they are in practice beating a fighting retreat rather than playing to win.

Third Way has dressed up its preference for small-bore policy initiatives as a disagreement about big ideas.

Cowan did a presentation in which he called for creating the brand “Opportunity Democrats” to describe his favored approach to politics, and Seitz-Wald reports that he showed “the results of focus groups and polling that it says shows Americans are more receptive to an economic message built on ‘opportunity’ rather than the left’s message about ‘inequality.’”

Those of us who’ve been through a political philosophy class or three know that the concept of equal opportunity is devilishly hard to pin down in a way that doesn’t become either trivial or grandiose. (Seriously, check the literature; this is a rare point on which Anarchy, State, and Utopia and A Theory of Justice agree.) And there’s an ongoing empirical debate in the economics profession about the extent to which inequities of outcome just mechanically produce inequalities in opportunity.

But for the purposes of political strategy, one can at least see a rough-and-ready view of the difference. A focus on income inequality should be very centered on money, specifically taking money from the haves and giving it to the have-nots. A focus on opportunity is more likely to care about services, and especially the services young people need to get ahead in life.

And you can think of at least some policy controversies in this light.

A standard objection to making college free for everyone, for example, is that most people who grow up in poor families don’t go to college. Those who do pay very little tuition. Instead, most college students are from families in the top half of the income distribution. Therefore, free college does little to nothing to address economy-wide income inequality, but it does make a powerful statement about opportunity — saying that higher education should be just as much a universal right in the 21st century as high school was in the 20th century.

But, of course, free college is the “left” position in the current political paradigm, not the center one. And the absolute biggest bone of intraparty contention right now — whether the country should transition to a single government-run health insurance program and if so how dramatically — has plainly nothing to do with the opportunity issue at all. In an email, Third Way’s senior vice president, Matt Bennett, explained to me that in his view, the key differentiator is an idea of earned success.

“Americans want to earn our way,” he says. “We are uniquely into that — it’s part of the American ethos.” He cites poll data showing that Americans are much more convinced about the central value of hard work than are Europeans.

This is true, and it explains a fair amount about the voting public’s relative resistance to high-tax, high-spending policies. But it doesn’t really track Third Way’s proposals in any clear way. They aren’t joining the furthest-left Democrats in endorsing a jobs guarantee. More to the point, they aren’t hopping on the bandwagon of favoring Medicaid work requirements or embracing Maine Gov. Paul LePage’s call to roll back child labor laws.

The obvious actual concern with both guaranteed free health care and guaranteed free higher education is that these are expensive propositions and not everyone will want to spend the money to pay for them.

Dressing up caution in the language of a grand clash of political theory is misleading, and it also serves to somewhat oddly cast Third Way’s own small-bore ideas in a toxic light to the left when sometimes a small-bore idea is exactly what an activist or politician is going to need.

The top item on Third Way’s list is a proposal for an American Investment Bank, essentially an effort to make “substantially increase the size of federal small-business loan guarantees” sound more exciting.

This is not a huge deal in substantive terms, but as Third Way points out, it is true that venture capital investing is incredibly focused in a handful of cities, so talking about expanding access to credit in smaller communities is a useful way for a Democrat to show concern for people living outside the major metro areas and college towns that are the most stereotypically left. And there’s no particular reason for this to be a huge source of ideological controversy. Bernie Sanders, for example, has long represented Vermont in Congress and thus has for years pushed bills expanding federal small-business loan guarantees, and his campaign argued for a big expansion of federal small-business lending.

Unlike some of Sanders’s other ideas, this never really captured the imagination of even his own supporters and could probably benefit from some better branding à la the American Investment Bank.

And it’s easy to see why a small-bore idea like AIB might be appealing to politicians who aren’t ready to go in for an enormous new federal health insurance program. But there’s also no tension between this idea and Medicare-for-all. And basically the entire agenda is like this, full of ideas that are either unobjectionable from a left perspective (a federally subsidized program for senior citizens who want to do part-time public service work) or else already part of the left agenda (a big universal broadband initiative).

The biggest idea on Third Way’s agenda is Apprenticeship America, a plan to fund 100 new apprenticeship hubs across the country. I think there’s a real question about how much of the apprenticeship model can really be ripped out of the very different context of German labor relations and sent to America, but the merits of spending federal money on giving it a try is definitely not a point of left-center contention in the Democratic Party.

Back in October 2017, for example, Sanders gave a speech at Castleton University in Vermont talking about his vision for higher education and specifically calling out a role for apprenticeships:

It’s time to reduce the outrageously heavy burden of student debt that is weighing down the lives of millions of college graduates.

And let me be very clear: I am not just talking about 4-year universities and colleges. I am talking about community colleges. I am talking about vocational schools. I am talking about apprenticeships. We desperately need highly trained and highly skilled electricians, welders, plumbers, mechanics, pipefitters and health care workers of every kind. Each and every American must be able to get the education they need to match their skills and fulfill their dreams.”

I even found a clip from February on Vermont public television of Sanders holding a town hall about apprenticeships with Germany’s ambassador to the United States. There’s nothing wrong with members of a political party having a broad consensus about certain ideas (indeed, it’s hard to govern unless you do this), but it’s not much of a way to win an intraparty fight. And indeed, what’s most striking to veterans of intra-Democratic arguing is the extent to which Third Way has dropped the centrist ideas that the party left actually objected to.

One thing that a large minority of Democrats believe is that many American children are poorly served by K-12 schools that don’t make good use of the financial resources available to them in part because of ideas favored by teachers union leaders. This school of thought was embraced by the Obama administration as well as by various Democratic Party mayors and governors in the early 21st century, and had a lot of influence on public policy, but has gone into retreat in recent years. A big push to revive the education reform concept would be very controversial in Democratic Party circles and evince howls of fury from the left.

But Third Way isn’t proposing that.

Nor is it proposing cuts to Social Security and Medicare or even a return to the Obama administration’s quest for a grand bargain. There’s also nothing on the list about trade deals, a subject that’s been divisive in the Democratic coalition for decades.

Now, it’s obviously not hard to understand why these subjects of contention have gone missing. After Donald Trump ran and won by adopting populist stances on trade and retirement programs, it’s very hard for centrist Democrats to credibly argue that abandoning populist stances on trade and retirement programs is the key to winning Middle America’s heart. And whatever the merits of education reform as a policy agenda in deep-blue areas with well-funded schools, red states where centrist Democrats are trying to win have suffered from massive cutbacks in school spending, and teacher pay and teacher strikes in West Virginia, Oklahoma, and Arizona have proven to be a great issue for Democrats to piggyback on.

But if you went 10 years back in time and described a policy document that called for a bunch of new spending, no cuts to entitlements, no education reform, and no free trade deals, you would think you were describing the left flank of an intraparty Democratic argument. The spectrum of discussion has simply shifted a long way to the left, and the center is largely out of distinctive ideas.

The true distinctive theme of Third Way’s new agenda isn’t opportunity versus equality; it’s simply timidity.

Caution can be a virtue in politics. Even in solidly blue states like Massachusetts, Vermont, and Maryland, voters have opted to install somewhat moderate Republican governors rather than run the risk of letting Democrats raise taxes on the middle class. In California, Democrats have durable majorities, but the state Constitution requires a two-thirds supermajority to raise taxes — a supermajority Democrats seem set to lose after a state senator was recalled over his vote in favor of a gas tax increase.

In a practical sense, Medicare-for-all proponents have acknowledged the need for caution by simply not endorsing explicit financing mechanisms for their health care vision. At some point, obviously, that doesn’t work as a governing agenda, but the left has decided that’s a bridge to cross on another day.

But caution is not itself a political vision. And Third Way’s Social Compact for the 21st Century is a truly omnidirectional form of cautiousness that avoids taking on any sacred cows of the left but simply cuts progressive aspirations down to micro size.

The basic idea here is to propose a bunch of new spending programs but make all of them small so not much tax money is needed to fund them, while also avoiding any regulatory initiatives that would make any significant business groups angry. It’s a form of politics without enemies, where the goal isn’t to help as many people as possible but instead to help whom you can manage to help without making anyone too upset.

For the narrow purposes of giving temperamentally cautious politicians running in red districts something to say, it certainly fits the bill. But as a salvo in an ongoing war of ideas with a resurgent left, there’s not much to it. There is no distinctive idea here at all, just a conviction that if what the left wants to do is spend a lot of money to solve a wide range of really big social problems, the true desire of the centrist public is to spend smaller sums to address a narrower range of problems in a small way.

It’s part of the natural yin and yang of politics that some party members will be pushing harder and for more while others will clamor to settle for less, and that struggle will naturally continue to play out in primaries and other battles. But on the level of ideas, Third Way’s latest push essentially amounts to negotiating the terms of surrender.

Original Source -> Centrist Democrats are out of ideas

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

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