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soprana-snap · 7 years

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Magnolia Seven-Seven

Chapter One: Just Peachy

Summary: Magnolia is like every other city, full of traffic jams and hoards of people. When Captain Gajeel and Detectives Gray and Natsu get involved with a shady crime boss that seems to have the whole crime ring in his back pocket, they need a little more backup to bring him down: i.e ADA Lucy Heartfilia, Evidence Technician Levy McGarden, and Caffeinator Juvia Lockster.

Rating: M for adult situations and language

A/N: This is all Alisha’s fault. Blame @rivendell101 for this monstrosity. Buddycop!AU conceived after eating 22 Reese’s and no sleep...after how many months of not writing.

Gray mentally promised to strangle whomever decided shove glitter and peppermints down this car’s dashboard vents. It wasn’t even hot out and yet the car smelled of mint and tiny rainbow glitter blinded him if he turned his head the wrong way.

Plus it made the dashboard look like a wayward unicorn shat all over.

Of course his captain got first pick of the undercover cars and of course he picked the coupe, leaving them with the SUV with the atomic glitter explosion all over. He wondered if there was regrets, anger, maybe bitter acceptance when the poor soul turned on the defrost and met his sparkled fate. At least the car forever smelled of peppermint, the candy caked into the bowels of the car for eternity. No amount of body odor or bad burritos can ever clear it. He turned the air conditioning to maximum.

“Batman can totally beat Aquaman. Remember he is the night AND a billionaire.”

Oh, right. Before his intense pondering of the dashboard, he and his partner had been in an intense debate.

Natsu Dragneel. Gray had no way to explain him properly. Who could? He supposed Natsu felt the same way about him, despite being rivals in the academy. Pink hair aside, the man had grit for an idiot. He was the only one Gray would trust with his back...and their captain too.

“Nah, Aquaman has Batman beat.”

Natsu tensed, flashing his signature ‘eat shit’ look. It was kinda like a constipated face, but with more rage in his brows. Honestly, how did he make Detective? He was a bag of half eaten, dusty Reese’s: useless to everybody and, with as much affection as Gray could muster, totally gross in theory.

“You know what Gajeel said. ‘Back up yer opinions’,” he said, mimicking Gajeel’s gruff tone. Huh, he even did the little lip curl characteristic common for Gajeel. “So, back your wrong opinion up.” He changed the A/C dial back to maximum heat.

Gray curled his lip and wrinkled his nose. Patience is key, he told himself. Plus, the captain would kill him if Natsu ended up dead before they could make the arrest. He tossed a glance to his left, toward the alley that was where everything was supposed to be.

“Well, Aquaman can control the animals in the ocean,” he tried, knowing full well it was a half baked answer. They were both getting antsy, like bloodhounds waiting for the trumpet to signal the hunt. He turned the A/C back to full cold. The unit within the dash gave a tired rumble, but held on.

Natsu rose an unimpressed eyebrow, but Gray caught the subtle glances towards the alley and the anxious leg bobbing. The car was starting to shake too from the increasing force, the leftover bottles and cans of 5-hour energy rolling too.

He mentally promised to strangle whomever used the car last. He didn’t miss the bags of fast food tossed into the back or the forgotten Taylor Swift CDs. Someone either had an open addiction to Tay Tay or was hiding the evidence of it. Either way, the car was a pig’s sty.

“And?” Natsu prompted, reaching over and turning the A/C dial back to maximum heat.

“He can drown trying to fight Aquaman.” ‘Duh’, he wanted to add, but when the captain was gone, he was in charge. Natsu had a nasty habit of playing disappear and bust the suspect alone if he wasn’t watched. The A/C was back to cold in a flash.

“Uh, billionaire? He can buy a submarine, go down and torpedo Aquaman, then eat whatever sushi he likes!” He then chuckled, “Batmarine.” When he turned the A/C to heat this time, there was a low clunk in the car.

Gray switched it back to cold before the unit could even scrape up enough warm air. “Aquaman can make a creature eat the sub--including Batman!” The inside voice was forgotten, the stir crazy pair now unleashed.

“Can not! Whatever it is can just poop him out! Plus, he can kill it from the inside!” Natsu argued, turning the dial back to heat. The car’s engine shuddered but still idled softly.

“Fine! The giant squid can crack it open like a pistachio and then Aquaman can feed Batman to an orca or shark! Baddabing, he’s dead!” At this, he turned the dial ruthlessly to cold and popped the plastic out of the socket, leaving just a metal stub. Suck it Natsu, he thought. Serves him right for leaving his weights out on the floor and making me and Gajeel clean them up, he added pridefully.

Natsu looked like he swallowed something foul, his eyes nearly crossing as he puffed his cheeks, probably choking on his defense but realizing it wasn’t good enough. Gray kinda hoped he choked so he could get a good laugh. He hastily dug into his breast pocket, pulling out his smartphone.

“And don't even think about Googling it,” he added sharply.

“...Fuck off, Gray.” Natsu decided after scowling hard enough to make a squirrel lose its fur. The man crossed his arms, sticking out his bottom lip and turned away to stare angrily out the passenger window.

“That may work on Lucy, but I still think you are a loser.”

That earned him a solid punch in the shoulder that started an all out slapping fight. Hands were flying, slapping at anything in their path. If they were to lay low, it was too late now, the gloves were off.

He had to have the largest fucking migraine on the continent at the moment. It was bad enough that he had to pretend he didn’t, but his two numskulls forgot they both were wearing microphones that dual transmitted right into his eardrum. It was safe to assume they weren’t listening to his relays either, judging by the constant shuffles and sounds of curses.

He could manage through their childish games: like Rock, Paper, Scissors and I spy. He could manage with the sounds of them chewing on whatever the hell they had in the car. He could even deal with their subpar debates on superheros. But this was total pain. Maybe he was hearing them all the way in the warehouse without the microphone!

“Shut up.” His own voice sounded raw from the irritation boiling through his body. He could hear them silence, the static crackling at their startled breaths. “Take this seriously.”

“Excuse me?”

Only years of experience with his old man prepared Gajeel for this. The straight face. The harsh growl in his demands. Weaker men have caved with less. Still....a theft trade bust was not the place to use these skills.

The brat looked like the damn wind could prance by and carry him away to the land of Oz or something, nothing but skin and bones with bruises as accents. Not one doubt entered his mind that this runt was high school age, a dropout most likely. Yet, his brown irises were shadowed with black eyes, his nose broken a few times too. A brawler beaten too many times by the world.

“I said shut up and take this seriously. I wanna buy your shit but I ain’t got the whole Bank of Magnolia.”

Nice save, Natsu praised in his ear.

Fuck off, peanut gallery, Gajeel answered in his mind. Honestly, when Makarov first assigned two upstart detectives under his command, he had his concerns. Now, it was headaches but whatever. If they messed up this bust they’ve been marking for weeks, he’d tan their hides himself.

The kid blinked, hesitation finally making an appearance on his face. Ah, so he did have some self preservation.

Time to switch tactics. Back to the basics, as he would tell the knuckleheads.

Before the runt could gather his bearings, Gajeel made his switch. He forwent diplomacy and straight into intimidation.

The kid’s coat felt like it hadn’t been washed in years, the fabric crinkling like tin foil. Something smelled nasty too, body odor soaked in skunk probably. He wished his nose would take a hike to spare him as he brought the kid near his face, flashing his teeth.

“Listen, I ain’t got all day and all the money in the world. So, I’ll make it simple. Point me to the procurer of these gizmos and I’ll leave ya be.” The way the kid shivered and his eyes shriveled in fear was nearly intoxicating.

Fear. The law of the world. At least, the underbelly of the world.

“Look man, I’m just doing what my boss says. I don’t want no trouble!” As if it would placate the situation, the kid showed his palms, empty and in surrender. Like him, Black Steel Gajeel would ever accept such a surrender.

“Do me the solid and point ‘im out for me.” The growl that came from his throat brought back memories, flashes of frightened eyes and darker days. “I don’t want a small fry like you but you’re making me late for an appointment.”

Intimidation.

Metalicana taught him this from day one, back when the path was so long and crooked. Of course, that was back then and he was different now: A changed man.

When the kid frantically gestured to his side, but subtle so that it looked like he just twitched, the glee melted away to cold self loathing in an instant. His grip relaxed, the boy’s feet touching back to concrete. Acid burned the back of his mouth. It had been months. He thought he had himself under control.

The academy didn’t beat it out of him after all.

“You need Wheaties,” he settled with, adjusting the flap of the hoodie with a gentle pat. “And an education.” Maybe some deodorant too.

“Huh?” Honestly, this kid’s brains was probably melted by the sheer stench of urine in this dump. Still, Gajeel breathed in and out. Zen. Levy always told him to find his happy place.

“Go back to school. There are better places to be than in this business, kid.” Jeez, what was he, the brat’s mentor? “Go back to school or I’ll find a way to tie a knot with yer scrawny legs.” There. Let it never be said that he wasn't a good motivator: this kid looked ready to faint from sheer inspiration.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gajeel saw him. Tall, dark, and suspicious with his head down and eyes avoiding everyone in the warehouse. His hands fiddled within his pockets, an unlit cigarette resting on his lips. Typical asshole type.

Now, he had no tip on the big man behind the job, but this guy definitely looked the type. Plus, every few seconds, the guy looked around, nodding to a few cronies handling crates and boxes.

It had taken months to set this little raid up, even longer to learn that there was seismic activity on the streets. More drug busts, more thefts, more violence in general. Magnolia wasn’t that happy little city portrayed on the sun bleached welcome signs, but then again if the tourists fell for that little charade, shame on them.

But, this was his town, Levy’s town, his partner’s town. They’d be damned if they let some high horse punks try and run these streets outside the law. As Captain of the detective unit, Gajeel could proudly state he was going to mow these criminal’s asses like grass.

Still, his two knuckleheads were whispering on the mic now, stray words Gajeel was able to catch. “Poor guy...sad...appointment...stood up.”

Idiots. He used to flush the heads of morons like them in the toilets and then steal the lunch money they stole from somebody else. What was it called again? The social food chain?

It was then that the rays of understanding dawned on the undercover cop. He was still standing there, next to a kid about to wet his pants and break out in stress acne. The job was supposed to be inconspicuous, blending, and eventually cracking down. Yet, here he was daydreaming.

He left the pale kid behind, strolling along the stacks of crates stamped with different cities and countries, bold black ink on the wood grains. Cedar, Crocus, and even Balsam? Just where and who is pulling the strings to this size of an operation? Definitely not Captain Crunch over there. No real boss ever wore aviators from the Dollar Tree...the tag still on.

At that moment, time slowed, and their eyes met momentarily.

Levy always talked about those sappy books she tried to hide from her supervisor on the job. The ones where two main characters eyes lock and time slows, butterflies began to flutter in the stomach and a little thing called love at first sight took flight.

Well, first, this was a two take on the punk’s side. He looked at Gajeel, looked back down, and jerked his head back up to gape.

Second, the butterflies in Gajeel’s stomach were on fire and armored with iron steampunk spikes, chanting war cries as they sent the molten metal through his limbs as he felt the instinctual urge to surge into chase. They were blood thirsty, manly little butterflies.

Third, there was no love taking flight at first sight. It was Gajeel’s suspect taking flight at second glance, barreling through the warehouse like Levy did when she saw a spider.

Chicken, Gajeel thought as he swore, bolting after the guy with a few seconds lag.

“Okay, for the final one hundred points, and the honor of skipping dish duty for a week-” Gray said, beginning his drum roll of fingers on the dashboard, “-Natsu, you must partake in the Trial of Tenacity!”

Natsu grinned brightly, punching into his palm. “All my training has led up to this moment. Witness me!”

“Witnessed,” Gray agreed, unable to stop the smirk from cracking his face.

With that, Natsu inhaled deeply, puffing his chest out and tightening his belly. Then, he began to belch. “A, B, C, D-” he paused. “E,” he faltered, licking his lips and scowling at the parking meter outside. “F, G, H, I-”

“Idiots!” Gajeel’s voice crackled over the mic, “I got a runner!”

“Oh shi-” Gray hissed, fumbling with the door handle. He was also going to strangle whoever put a ‘purrr-fect’ sticker on the car’s handle. What were they, five and playing pretend cops n’ robbers?

Natsu was already on it, throwing his door open and lunging out with it. Too bad he didn’t account for the light pole next to the car. The noise of the door hitting the wooden pole was enough to make someone cringe, but the sound of Natsu’s forehead smacking into the window as a result was hilarious.

Gray almost peed himself as he stumbled, nearly tripping on the sidewalk at the noise. It was a shame. He expected a hollow thunk.

Disappointment aside, the solid burn of his previously cramped legs leaving trails of fire. It took about three strides to get momentum, but then Gray felt everything click.

Running wasn't really his thing. It never was until he joined the force. To be honest, Gray missed his high school days on the winter sports teams: skiing, snowboarding, ice skating, those kinds of things.

But, he hid the trophies for the ice skating in storage. Heaven forbid his partners finding out, even if he was graceful as fuck on ice skates.

“I'm coming around the back! He's gonna shoot out the east alleyway,” Gajeel’s voice cracked in the earpiece.

Which way was East? Which way was North? Dread filled his lungs. Never eat soggy wheat, but which direction was never!?

“Turn right at the crosswalk, icicle!”

There was Natsu, finally up and sprinting along with him. It didn't surprise him in the slightest.

Unlike him, Natsu was a track star before the force, a competitive force of nature that tended to be too competitive at times. Times like, but not limited to, taking the longest shower even when the hot water was exhausted.

“How's the head?” Gray managed to say between breaths, taking his turn too soon and scraping his shoulder on the corner of the brick building. Ouch. “Still have a brain?”

“Har Har. Just keep up, will ya?” Natsu replied, far more casual than he normally would. This was suspicious until he pulled ahead in a full sprint, feet barely staying on the ground for two seconds.

Gray would have been impressed...if it wasn't for the words Natsu was grunting into the mic as he went.

“Dude, is that the lyrics from Cops?”

Bad boys, bad boys...it was!

“Shut up! It makes me run faster!” Indeed, he was pulling ahead.

“Oi, morons! Here he comes!”

Instantly, a pair of plastic garbage bins tumbled out of the mouth of an alleyway to the right, sounds of shattering glass making a few pedestrians freeze. Then, out came the ugliest looking man Gray had seen in living memory.

White hair tangled in knots, skin leathery and eyes sunken in, an old man staggered over the rolling bins, took one look at them, and sprinted away with inhuman speed.

“What drugs is he on?” Natsu squawked, nearly tripping over the cans himself as he hurdled over them.

“Catch him and we’ll find out!” Gajeel hissed, sounding much more out of breath than they were. They warned him about skipping cardio day, but did he listen? Nooo.

Not that Natsu or himself would ever draw attention to the captain's lack of stamina. A laugh caught in his throat. Especially around Levy.

Old Man Nasty could run! Gray had a hard time believing that he made it down two blocks before they were halfway gaining on him.

Well, he made it harder by throwing people and garbage cans in their paths. Gray had already caught up with Natsu, neck and neck as they closed in.

They may have ran over a little old lady with a cane, everything was a blur so he wouldn't remember.

It took five blocks, but Old Man was still an old man. Gray took the lunge just as Natsu did, both tackling the guy so hard they crashed right into a wooden fruit stand.

“Ehey what are ya’ll doin’ tuh my peaches?!” someone shouted near Natsu’s ear. Of course, he was sort of busy wrangling their suspect down while Gray recited the Miranda Rights with handcuffs.

That was how Gajeel found them, knelt and covered in mashed peaches with an irate vendor screaming like an angered TV star. Maybe he was going to explode judging by the color of his face. He didn't want to risk watching to see if he did.

It became sort of a ritual after every bust. The Captain sighed, flashed his detectives a ‘we will discuss this later’ look, and forked over a wad of twenties from his pockets to silence the vendor before his migraine became nuclear.

Magnolia 77th precinct wasn't a glamorous place. The drywall was at least 49 years old, the tiles discolored from various cleaning supplies, the ceiling missing squares. It smelled like an old building, and it was. There were still secret closets from back in the prohibition era although they weren't used for illegal booze anymore.

Magnolia 77 wasn't pretty, it probably had some modern day code violations, but it was home. Natsu had always thought so. He crashed at his desk sometimes, ate meals from the vending machine, and shaved in the gym showers. By all accounts, that meant he lived here.

So, bringing in baddies to this ‘temple’ always gave him a sour taste in his mouth. Or, it could be the peach juice still oozing from his hair.

Erigor, the guy he and Gray suffered much pain and embarrassment to catch, seemed indifferent to the majesty of the lobby. Actually, he turned up his nose, revealing the bit of peach still lodged up there in the left bat cave. No respect for poor historical building upkeep. Criminals these days.

Gray held onto Erigor’s left arm, Natsu keeping tight on the right while Gajeel brought up the rear. It made this six legged, sideways cha cha line hard to fit through the revolving door, but with a little wiggling and sliding real smooth, they all ended up in the lobby in one piece, just peachy.

Then, when Natsu got a good look around, gravity faltered for just a moment. His mouth went dry, his heart thumping against his rib cage. For a blink, the Earth stopped turning.

Be still his heart.

There she was, in that white blouse and gray pencil skirt, a purple scarf around her neck today. Her arms were filled with folders, a briefcase slung by a strap over her shoulder.

She rose a golden eyebrow, an amused smirk crossing her glossed lips, “Wow. I see you boys got into a sticky situation.”

Damn, her quick quips never stopped taking his breath away.

Gajeel grunted, taking a moment to scoop some slime from the back of Gray’s uniform and flicked it at her playfully.

She dodged quickly, standing aside as the captain took Erigor from them and made the march up to the counter.

“This is no time for puns, Lucy...even good ones.” Gray said as he shook his arm and slopped peach guts all over the floor.

Natsu, however, pulled a half squashed peach from his trouser pocket, grinning stupidly as he offered it to her. “Sweets to the sweetie.”

Lucy, bless her, managed a small hint of amusement under her cringe. She pulled the folders close to her chest and Natsu felt unreasonable envy of the plastic and cardboard.

“Never been a fan of peaches, sorry.” She glanced down, probably to inspect that her shoes were not stepping in juice, missing Natsu’s deflated look.

“Well, I should get back to my office. Bye Gray...Natsu.” With a dainty hand, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, walking away with her head bowed and eyes to the floor in determination.

Assistant Deputy Attorney Lucy Heartfilia, someone that everyone loved to see around the precinct and every criminal learned to fear in the courts.

Once she was gone, Gray whistled lowly, placing a solemn hand on Natsu’s shoulder. “Sorry man. I think she only has love for justice and platonic relationships. You might not get anywhere with her.”

Natsu, still watching the doors where Lucy was last seen, closed his eyes and let a small smile cross his lips. With a steady hand, he slid the peach back into his pocket, ignoring the way it squelched. “Nah man. She has a lot of love to give but a lot to lose too. She’s worth waiting for,” he said softly, almost sagely as he tenderly sighed towards the doors.

Gray crinkled his nose. Over the years, Natsu was always a conundrum. One second he’s sappy and pretty damn perceptive, the next-

“Hey, wanna stick dirty socks in Elfman’s locker? He still hasn’t changed the locks~”

-the next, he was an absolute asshole.

“Sure, I got some that I’ve been perfecting for weeks.”

Hey, he never claimed to be a saint either!

“Another job well done, Redfox.”

Gajeel couldn’t help but let the grin cross his face as he shoved Erigor to Erza and Milliana, the best detention officers on the force, nearly laughing at Erigor’s stumble into the women’s hands. Truly, he had no beef being on the streets, little wimp.

“Milli, take him to the cells while I talk with Redfox.” Erza said evenly, in that commanding tone that was a basic being for her. Her red hair shimmered behind her as she turned, pressing the buzzer that unlocked the door to proceed further into the building. Milliana, gripping Erigor by the arm, hustled him through and disappeared behind barred windows.

“The chief and I are very impressed with your record lately. Although, we do have concerns about the two greenie detectives you cart around with you. Somehow, you get the job done despite being saddled with hooligans,” she said dismissively, eyes sharp as she took in the peach mush on the floor and still smeared on his vest.

The praise and backhanded snub at his team rolled off his back like water on a poncho, him not having the energy to get riled up in defense of his two rookies. After all, they did smear him in peach juice today.

“They were top notch in the academy, prodigies, hence achieving detective as soon as they entered the force. They are both excellent in hand to hand combat and sharp strategists. I wouldn’t expect someone outside this team to see it.” Okay, maybe the insults to his guys didn't go over as easily as water off his back. They were his morons, after all.

Erza, despite the rumor that she’d rip out your spine if you got snippy with her, smiled easily with a shrug. “As expected of the greatest team on the force, the Captain defends his team.” She sounded strangely pleased, as if he had passed a test of hers.

When her expression slipped into something more sly, then Gajeel felt nervous and twitchy. Sly Erza was worse than angry Erza.

“So...still coming over on Tuesday? With the skillet-?”

Oh. NO. Channeling his inner five year-old, he whipped his finger to his lip and shushed her. “Yer sworn to secrecy, Red. Remember?”

At his old academy nickname for her, she smirked. “Of course, Steel,” she replied easily.

He relaxed, opting to roll his shoulders out and groan at the cracks of the joints. “Well, I’m gonna round up my clowns and head out for the day. Maybe get them some shawarma. They did get the peach bomb worse than I did.”

She nodded, already turning away with a wave. “Alright, keep your phone on. We still have to book this guy on something that will stick.”

“Erigor’s down. Got busted by the cops.”

A man runs his fingers through his hair. “This news is very displeasing.”

With a bored manner, he picked at his shredded cuticles, licking his lips. “Then tell Lyon I expect his shipment on time. Remind him what will happen if my calendar suffers another...setback.”

The chair he sat in creaked as he shifted, shined shoes coming up to rest on a nearby desk.

“Which reminds me...take care of the loose end before he gets...chatty.”

#nalu #gajevy #gruvia #Natsu Dragneel #Lucy Heartfilia #levy mcgarden #Gajeel Redfox #juvia lockser #gray fullbuster #my writing #M77

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robotslenderman · 8 years

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Wait, American here. What's happened? Why are we fighting with the Australians. Everyone knows not to fight with the Australians, they're our allies ffs. Oh god, he's going to start WW3.

G’DAY MATE LEMME SORT THAT OUT FOR YA. Scroll to the bottom for a TL;DR.

*Clears throat* #auspol, please correct me if I’m wrong on this, I’m just repeating what my mother told me and I’ve read absolutely nowhere about the Central American refugees thing, so let me know if I’ve totally cocked this one up.

Right. Before we get started, lemme tell you about Australia’s version of the Mexican Wall (detention centres! Human rights violations for everybody!), and how this relates to Trump throwing a tantrum on twitter and Malcolm Turnbull either being the most unimpressed politician ever or the biggest doormat ever, depending on who you ask.

See, the big issue in Australian politics (when it’s not the annual Leadership Spill) is the People On Boats.

Because of that whole “island nation” thing, we don’t have people fucking over here over the border because our border’s the fucking ocean, so they have to get on a goddamn boat to do it. To get on the boats, they pay people smugglers, go across a few countries, then get on more boats (possibly not in that order, I don’t know, I don’t have a bachelor’s degree in this), and then wind up here.

There’s a couple of problems with this, “AAAAAH BROWN PEOPLE!!!” from the racists in the peanut gallery notwithstanding:

Problem #1 – People smugglers know that those boats are one-way-trip only, so they give refugees the shittiest possible boats they can. Every now and then, one springs a leak earlier than intended. (Yes, “earlier than intended”, more on that in a tick.) So every now and then we’ll see on the news that the navy found an empty boat or one full of corpses or answered a distress call only to find no boat at all. Either way, refugees can and have died to get here – either as an accident, or as a tragic consequence of –

Problem #2 – I don’t know the specifics, but the Australian navy, when it intercepts boats, is… I don’t know if they’re supposed to somehow turn the boats back, all I know is that they can’t let the refugees on board.

Unless the boat is in distress.

The solution to that? Blow a hole in the boat.

IDK if this still happens, or if this is just my Liberal mother filtering it, but what I’ve heard is that the only way the refugees can get rescued by the navy is if they’re in danger. So the refugees sabotage their own boat, and the navy has to rescue them.

As you can imagine, sometimes this doesn’t go as intended. Sometimes the navy’s too late, or someone slips – there’s families on board those shitty boats. People’s children have died.

Anyway, because of problem #1 and #2, there’s a real risk of people dying. Now, look, a lot of people who don’t want refugees here are just plain racist and could actually hardly care less about drowning refugees, and all of this could be solved by the navy just rescuing them anyway before the refugees are desperate enough to kick a hole in the hull, but fact of the matter is, there’s people profiting off the life savings of vulnerable people, greasing the wheels of corruption and putting people in danger, all the while promising that they’ll get settled in Australia if they remember to blow a hole in their own ship.

and then we stick them in a detention centre for years or more anyway.

So basically, all Australian politics ever talks about is Stopping the Boats (or not stopping the boats).

So somebody – IDK if this was the Lizard King or Turnbull’s idea, or even Obama’s. But at some point, Aussie politicians made a deal with Obama.

And, again, correct me if I’m wrong because the only source for this is my Liberal (as in, right-wing Liberal) mother, and I’m too lazy to google, and have heard nothing about this anywhere else, but –

The idea is that we’d swap refugees. America gets our refugees, and we get Central American refugees. Two thousand, I think. I expect that’s just to start off with because I would’ve heard about it earlier if this was a thing that had been going on for a while. Either we end up with a few hundred extra refugees or it’s one for one, I don’t know, all I know is that it was two thousand on each side or less.

Anyway, this is win-win!

People smugglers (hopefully) get less business because it’s kind of bad for business if you tell your clients they’ll go to Straya and they wind up drawing a short straw and winding up in Murica instead. (Word gets around, refugees find this stuff out so the people smugglers could only bluff for so long.)

People who are genuinely concerned about refugees not drowning are soothed because hopefully less refugees coming = less drownings.

Closet racists have to deal with brown people anyway and have no choice but to shut the fuck up or out themselves as actual racists.

People who are all for accepting refugees will be satisfied as the refugees get to go to a better life than the one they left behind anyway.

Basically the Australian government probably thinks it’ll get some peace and fucking quiet from all sides, when in reality we’ll just move on to marriage equality.

Now, again, I don’t know if this is actually what it is or not. I live in a Liberal (ie Republican, not left wing like it means in the States) household. I’ve never even seen left wingers here talk about people smugglers so I don’t even know how much of that is or isn’t true.

Whatever it is, we were supposed to ship a bunch of refugees over to the States and then the Carrot’s ass got elected, started going on about banning muslims etc and Washington DC Canberra went, “Oh, fuck.”

So! Turnbull, our PM, called Trump or vice versa to chat about it.

Then Turnbull told Straya that the deal was going ahead and that he Stood Up For Australia during this phone call.

Australia went, “umm…. sounds fake but ok” because we’re Australian, not stupid, we got more coverage about the last US election than we do about all our elections ever combined. We know perfectly damn well that you either stand up to Trump or you get your own way, not both.

Then the Washington Post leaked what actually happened on that phone call a few days ago and now the Australian media is losing its shit.

What happened?

Apparently Trump went on about his penis size inauguration crowds, pitched a fit about the deal and how he “intended” (note the wiggle room that word gives you) to follow through on the deal, called that phone call with Turnbull “the worst” phone call he’d had that day (yes, to Turnbull’s “face”), and then hung up on him 25 minutes in out of the hour that call was supposed to take.

The Washington Post leaked it a few days later, and the Australian media lost its shit.

And after the Washington Post leaked it, Trump (ETA: oops, fixed that error, it was definitely Trump!) complained publicly on twitter that the whole deal was “dumb” and implied he was gonna try get out of it.

Australian media lost its shit again.

Now, regardless of your opinions of Turnbull – I think the guy actually did stand up to Trump. (I shouldn’t have said that out loud on tumblr, that’s like the Australian equivalent of saying “well I heard Trump petted a dog once?”) He can be a bit of a people pleaser and seems to be pretty laid back rather than go-for-the-throat. Or so I’m guessing because political news has been a lot quieter since the Lizard King was deposed.

But look, first off, we’re fucking Australians. We despise rank, it’s in our blood, our ancestors were convicts who wanted (and frequently tried) to shank their British overlords. Ranks are formalities on paper that should stay on paper. You wouldn’t even dream of the President of the US making chitchat with, say, a garbage disposal man, but in Australia if we found out our PM didn’t treat one as his equal we’d lose our fucking minds at the politician’s arrogance. Unless the garbage person was brown, because at the end of the day, Australia is p damn racist. Even the biggest doormat of a PM would have their inner Australian chomping at the bit the second Trump so much as insinuated he was more important than them.

And come on, even people who live under rocks just know how big Trump’s ego is and how long Trump can be expected to go before he insinuates someone is beneath him even a little bit.

Secondly, the American pro-Trump media is implying that Turnbull pissed Trump off because they spun it as “well, Trump’s other phone calls went fine!”

And thirdly, I really don’t think a manchild like Trump would hang up the phone on someone unless that person was acting with a sliver of self-respect. Like hell, Turnbull could breathe too loudly and Trump’d be offended.

But then, Turnbull might’ve stood up to him and still been a doormat by our standards, because he is not telling the media his side of the story. At all. Probably because he doesn’t want to piss off Pence whoever winds up in charge after Trump goes, because at the end of the day, sucking up to the States is a sport that’s even more popular than our annual leadership spills.

Also, Australians hate politicians in general, so we’d probably call Turnbull a doormat if he bought a plane ticket and pissed on Trump’s hair personally, so.

TL;DR – Washington Post leaked that Trump humiliated our PM over the phone and now Australia’s going “Oooooh, shots fired!”

#auspol #uspol #trump #fact checkers feel free to come in and set me straight for any fuckups #Anonymous #dusty talks #long post

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