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Being president is NOT easy.
First, Obama wakes up and has to bomb kids in third world countries ☹☹☹☹☹.
THEN, he has to play Minecraft with Trump and Biden (his two bestest friends) until it's time for his daily meeting. And in the meeting, all everyone says is "Obama, why do you tweet so much about femboys" or "Mister President, Sir, we can't just bomb the Middle east without proper cause".
Can you believe that??? These people have the AUDACITY to tell Obama Obama Obama-Obama (all his names are Obama) what he can do, like they control him???
He rants to his discord kitten. A man who calls himself "Kiwi" online. He has many moderators after him, but the only one he REALLY pays attention to, is Obama.
Obama let out a long sigh, flipping his dreads out of his eyes. Kiwi was the only person that ever truly understood him.. But his discord kitten was a busy, busy man. So Obama waited. Call him Penelope the way he was waiting like 20 years.
He leaned back in his gamer chair, his presidential desk right in front of him. Months ago, he'd painted it electric blue to match his Hatsune Miku themed, cat-eared, gamer headphones. But he'd gotten the colors wrong, so it turned out a much darker shade, much alike to the vibrant blue of his One Direction posters pasted on the walls of his Oval Office.
Sunlight from the window behind him streamed through the dusty blinds. It was nearly time for his daily Minecraft livestream with Trump and Biden. But his mind was clouded. People had been accusing his wife of being transgender all week, calling her Mike Obama instead. But that's not true, because he knew very well that she was indeed female, and so did her secret girlfriend, Kamala Harris. Her ex girlfriend, Melania, wouldnt be too happy about the relationship, but she didn't have to find our.
-gamer gc-
Dumpy_Trumpy: u ready 4 stream?
icedoutBiden: yuh
hold on one sec
_______________________________________________________________
Obama loaded up his PC, ready for another Twitch livestream. He got ready, and then entered the collab stream with Trump and Biden. Loading into the Minecraft realm, (of course they have realms because Obama's ain't a broke bitch) Obama realized that Kiwi had texted him. He discreetly checked his phone.
"Oooh, who are you texting??" Trump teased over the mic, raising his eyebrows to his camera. Obama flushed neon green, tucking a dread behind his ear.
"None of your business, Donny," he grumbled, activating the tsundere inside himself. Biden giggled, taking a massive bite of his greek, lowfat, vanilla yogurt (he's dieting for hot girl summer, let your man get some okay).
"Come on, Obammy, you can trust us with a secret," Biden pleaded, putting on his fake innocent smile. The chat fawned over how adorable he looked in his bright pink cat ear headphones and matching maid dress.
"Dawg you leaked missile plans to Kim Jong Un for a booty pic," Obama retorted, rolling his eyes, "Don't talk to me about 'keeping secrets'."
The rest of the stream went by smoothly, until Obama noticed the chat going CRAZY. He didn't think too much of it, seeing as Caseoh had joined and they loved him, until he got a donation notification that flashed atop his screen. The fated words "Obama, did you hear One Direction kicked out Harry Styles?" rang in his ears as he read the message again and again.
He hit the escape button, and zoomed in on the chat.
To his absolute horror, that was all everyone was talking about. He ripped off his headphones in disbelief, and exited the stream faster than his hairline could recede.
"What was that for?" Trump asked, the call still ongoing as Obama didn't have the energy to even reach for his phone.
Tears gathered into dewy pools in the corners of his eyes. He couldn't even muster any retort when Trump kept prodding and poking at him.
"I- I need a moment to think. ." Obama breathed out, leaving the call before his friends could pester him about what was wrong.
His long, dark, slender fingers found the bright red Secret Service button beneath his top desk drawer. He pushed it once. Twice. Thrice. Force. Frice. Not a minute passed before his head bodyguard and the elite team came bursting through the doors to the Oval Office, decorated in sleek black suits with gun holsters at every joint reachable.
"Mr President! Get down!" His head bodyguard, Beyonce, called out. Lady Gaga stood beside her, the two back to back as they surveyed the room.
Obama slowly dragged his melin and choloccy, dark brown gaze upwards, landing on Beyonce's protective features. "Is.. Is it true??" he murmured, tears spilling out of his dookie brown orbs.
Beyonce paused, slowly lowering her gun. Lady Gagagagagagiggitygiggity stayed alert. They didn't call her the government hooker for nothing.
"Is what true, Mr President?" Beyonce asked, pushing her gun into her BBL double barrel holster. Obama sniffled, shaking his head disbelievingly.
"That. . that One Direction. . they kicked out. . Harry Styles. . ?" He mumbled out.
Beyonce gasped, her BBL recoiling backwards in shock. "THEY WHAT??" She fell to her knees, clutching at empty air.
Lady GaGagagagagagooey just shrugged and nodded like the 6'5, nonchalant, dreadhead she is. "Oh, yeah, I saw something about that on Kim Jon Un's snap story."
Obama sobbed into his Tommyinnit desk plushie, trembling violently. "No. . no. . this can't be.. this CANT BE HAPPENING!"
His scream echoed throughout the Presidential Suite. Beyonce's sobs acted as a background choir to his turmoil. Gaga helped her girlfriend up, shaking her head disapprovingly.
"I think you have bigger fish to McFillet, Sir," she said, her tone respectful but her words clearly targeted. Obama just sat in his gamer chair, shaking and sobbing.
He got a notification from Discord. He ignored it, crying even harder. His tears now coated the plushie, and the sleeves of his oversized Dream hoodie were soaked. Tears dropped onto the glossy finish of his desk, marring his reflection with splotches.
After three and a half hours of crying, Obama finally picked up his phone, sopping wet sleeves dragging across the screen.
-my fav kitten-
kiwi •♡•: i.. have a favor to ask of you..
____________________________
Obama sniffled, typing out a lazy 'what' in response.
-my fav kitten-
kiwi •♡•: i don't have any place to stay right now.. my roommates kicked me out and my income is too passive to get a new flat
kiwi •♡•: can i.... stay with you~?
________________________________
Obama was shocked. But he desperately needed someone to take his mind off of Harry, and who else could do it but Kiwi, the true love of his life?
-my fav kitten-
kiwi •♡•: if not i totally understand! if it's too much of a
burden, then..
you can stay! i don't mind.. i have a
lot of extra space here. and you
know my suite is always open to you
kiwi •♡•:THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! *squeals*
_____________________________
Obama flushed a unique shade of piss yellow before sending his address to Kiwi and slowly rising from his chair.
With only one, extremely tragic, utterly depressing, and soul crushing thought on his mind, Obama trudged to his room and fell into the sheets. The soft, strawberry scented, silk sheets lulled the dreadhead to sleep, the sound of the city's mournful cries lingering in the air.