Chapter 1: From The Grave

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It had been years since Obama’s tragic death, and Spongebob was doing his annual mourning at his grave. Beside him was Squidward, who had been Spongebob’s only companion since Obama’s tragic passing. Spongebob had no clue, but all this time Squidward had feelings for him uwu. The sad sponge sighed sorrowfully, “If only there was a way we could bring him back.” Squidward nodded, trying to hide the copy of the necronomicon he had rented behind his back.

That night, Squidward donned a thick black cape to begin his ritual. In a crudely drawn pentagram of the blood of Patrick, Squidward laid down the body of Obama, along with a sack of mermaid scales and an American flag. Then, he began chanting.
“Globulos apud maxilla, sexus et homicidium, ad vitam amor meus est scriptor, Obama.” With that, the cadaver began to convulse, as dark magic pulsed through it. All at once, life sprung into Obama’s once soulless eyes, and his legs morphed into a beautiful, strong merman tail.

Obama sat up, gasping for breath. “What the? What happened?” He looked around the house, realizing that this wasn’t his home sweet pineapple. Squidward, on the other hand, was ecstatic. For the first time, he felt those special feelings he had only ever felt towards Spongebob, towards a new suitor.

“Oh, thank kelp you’re back!” Squidward ejaculated, thrusting himself towards Obama. Obama was stunned for a moment, so Squidward pulled back. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Squidward. Squidward Tentacles, I’m Spongebob’s best friend.”

Obama stared, puzzled at his situation. However, he couldn’t help that his over-eager member was still stuck in a state of rigor mortis. He reached down and covered his exposed penis, his face bright red. “W-well, nice to meet you..” He trailed off, trying to look out of the shrouded window. “Where is spongebob?”

“Oh, he’s at home. Boy, will he be happy to see you!” Squidward grabbed Obama’s hand, and began to race downstairs. All at once, Obama froze. He knew he couldn’t just go back to Spongebob. He had been dead for well over a year! What if Spongebob moved on already? What if Spongebob hated him now?????/?

“Wait!” Obama moaned. Squidward stopped, turning to face the beautiful man whose hand he was holding. “I don’t know if Spongebob still loves me or not, and that’s a risk I’m not sure I want to take.” Squidward thought for a moment, unsure of what to make of this conundrum.

“That’s a toughie,” Squidward admitted. “Here, why don’t you stay here with me? That way I can ease Spongebob into the idea of seeing you again, and if it works, it works!”

“And if it doesn’t…?” Obama hazarded.

“If it doesn’t, you’ll still have me.” Squidward blushed, feeling his tentacle wrapped around Obama’s hand grow sweaty and warm.

Obama smiled, pulling Squidward in for a hug. “Thank you, very much.” Suddenly, Squidward reached out and caressed Obama’s now 10 inch love rod. Obama’s face flushed red, but allowed himself to lean into the pleasure. The suction cups gently pulled at Obama’s skin, causing waves of pleasure to ripple across his body. Obama felt his hand gravitate towards Squidward’s bridge of pleasure, only to find a slit where a penis would be.

Squidward was trans?? Immediately, Squidward pulled away, his tentacles becoming cold again. “Oh!” he exclaimed, a cold sweat beading his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-it’s nothing, I um..” Squidward felt a pit form in his stomach, large enough to transverse dimensions. “I’m just not sure, like… Y’know, I’d just rather you not touch.. there…” His face grew bright red, as Obama realized his mistake.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I won’t do that again, then.”

Squidward nodded, folding his arms behind his back. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course,” Obama offered. “You know, my ex-wife was trans, too. We divorced not long after I got elected,” he winced.

Squidward was shocked to hear this. “O-oh… I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine,” Obama reassured the gentle blue octopus. “Let’s just go to bed, it’s getting late.”

“Agreed.” Obama and Squidward hugged good night, and they each went to bed. Obama, not wanting to make things awkward, slept downstairs. As he tossed and turned, he couldn’t help but feel bad about how things had ended with Shrek. Or how he had died in Spongebob’s arms. It seemed like he had bit off more than he could chew, and he didn’t want to break any more hearts.

Shreksual tension 2: The Shrequal (feat. Squidward)Where stories live. Discover now