Trump's marriage had been falling apart for years. It would be hard to pinpoint the exact date or event that started it all but spoiler alert: saying you would date your daughter can have the tendency to make your wife hate you. Who knew.
Donald John Trump was at his wits end. Although he had won the primary election, he was still exceptionally stressed out, and being such a ignorantly racist loudmouth was beginning to take it's toll on the man. His hair especially, or lack thereof, was beginning to look more scarce than ever.
It was on his Trump private jet that he made the final decision to speak to Ted Cruz. He was already en route to Houston to get approval for The Wall (or not get approval, either way that wall is going to be built, and Mexico is paying for it) he surely could afford a quick stop to Ted’s home. His jet landed smoothly, with minimal bumps, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to his presidential (hopefully) soon-to-be-lover Ted Cruz. He made Donald feel like a fire was lit in his heart. He was sure Ted could fill the zodiac killer shaped hole in his heart.
Trump entered security guarded limo, thoughts unwavering from his serial killer love. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ted Cruz with his unnerving half-smile. “I like lasagna,” the smile seemed to say, “but that is not what I ordered.” Donald Trump couldn't help but smile as he imagined Ted and himself at a restaurant, when the waiter (probably a Mexican rapist) brought Ted lasagna instead of what he really ordered, Donald could publicly yell at him and threaten to sue, causing Ted to fall more hopelessly in love with him.
Trump was so deep in his fantasy he didn't realize when his chauffeur pulled into Cruz's driveway.
“Mr. Trump? We've arrived, as you’ve requested,” a bodyguard in the front seat said.
Donald adjusted his tie and his squirrel-like toupee as he exited the vehicle. He prepared himself mentally for the conversation he would soon have with the love of his life. And although he would never admit it, as his pride was one of his faults, he was nervous. He hadn't asked anyone out since Jodi in the fourth grade, even she had turned him down for the dirty Mexican boy in grade five. That memory still haunted him to this day.
Donald shuffled from foot to foot as he stood on the front porch of Ted Cruz’s home in Texas. His heart practically beating out of his chest as he rang the doorbell. Ding-dong. His pulse quickened as he heard someone walking toward the door. He couldn't take it, he dove into the bushes that followed the side of the house.
“Mhm, yes one second someones at the door,” a feminine voice said as the door opened, “Hello?” she called out, holding the door in one hand and her cell phone to her ear in the other, “Hello??”
Trump began to rustle himself out of the bushes. He hadn't come all this way for nothing. It would make no sense (much like his campaign) if he were to quit now.
“-the strangest thing. Just a minute ago the doorbell rang but no ones there. Must be the neighbor kids down the street,” the woman continued.
Trump found his way back to the porch and cleared his throat, pulling a twig out of his sorry excuse for a hairstyle and flicking it to the side.
“Oh? Mr. Trump, how…. lovely to see you today. Margaret I’ll call you back in just a second” Heidi Cruz tried to hide her perplexed expression as she invited him inside.
“I'm here to speak to Ted about business matters,” Trump blurted out.
“Oh of course! He’s up in his study, I'll walk you up,” she forced a smile and guided him toward the stairs. Two little girls were playing with dolls at the foot of the stairs but looked up as Donald and Mrs. Cruz approached.
“His hair is funny,” the taller one giggled to the other, who smiled in response. Trump made a mental note to sue them both at a later date.
“Girls, would you mind playing in your room? I've told you playing on the stairs isn't safe,” Mrs. Cruz instructed. The little ones scampered off, eyes not leaving the monstrosity atop Trump’s head.
They treaded up the stairs in silence and Heidi cracked open the second door on the left and peeked her head through.
"Teddy," she spoke softly, "um...someone is here to see you? It seems urgent."
Someone on the inside muffled a sob, then muttered some words under their breath. Heidi moved away from the door, cuing Donald to enter. Trump may know jack shit about politics, but he could put together that Ted must be behind the door, and he must be very sad. Donald felt something pulling on his cold, long dead heart. He felt sadness. He wasn't sad, he had no reason to be. After all he had just won the primary election! A thought struck him. He had heard a myth about something called ‘empathy', he had always thought it was like unicorns and mermaids though, make-believe. But it was undeniable that this new feeling was caused by Ted Cruz. Trump promised himself to give it more thought later. Right now, he had business to attend to.
He entered the room and took a seat in the chair opposite Ted's desk. He wasnted to seem confident and sure of himself, despite his anxiety.
“I have a proposal to make,” the orange man presented, “as I'm sure you've heard, I have recently won the primary election. If I- when I win the final election, would like you like to be my vice-president,” he paused, “and maybe...my boyfriend?”
AN: what the fuck is this honestly
I hate myself for writing this lmao
sorry for the irregular updates but also I hate this so dont expect it to be longer than like 5 chapters
did I mention I hate myself?
i love crack fics oml
