a fanfiction for all the cringe obama shippers out there
I SAVE DICK BY GIVING IT CPR
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also, cover art is so aesthetic i know, BUT ITS MADE BY ME SO FUCK YOU IF YOU TRY TO STEAL IT I WILL SUE YOU
probably not but yknow, credit KingKongBalls.
It was a cold winter night, the cold breeze hit Barack's shining forehead, he looked angel-like.
- Its spring.. why is it still this cold? Barack muttered to himself, walking down the street. The streetlights gave off a dull, cozy yellow. The leftover snow on the ground was sparkling in the evening sun. Even tho it wasn't Christmas, it still felt like it.
- timeskip -
He was walking down the street when in the corner of his eye he saw a 7-eleven. It looked fairly well from the outside. Barack thought for a moment, "I do need some snacks so I can watch squidgame..." So he then decided to go inside cause theres absolutely no way you can sit and watch a fucking show WITHOUT having SNACKS, you freak.
- Hm, pretty fancy for a 7el- he stopped for a moment, processing what he'd just seen.
He saw the slushy machines, but not only that.. There he was, Bob the builder himself.
- B-bobie-chan? Is it.. really y-you?.. Obama stuttered, still processing what, or who he'd just seen.
Bob turned around, clearly noticing the familiar voice. There they were, staring at eachother, with teary eyes.
- .. So we meet yet again, eh? Bob sighed and went in with a bearhug.
Barack put his head on Bob's shoulder, and they did a little aesthetic twirl and then turned to the slushy machine.
- what flavour, handsome? Bob asked Barack, smirking.
- you.. Obama sharted cutely as his shiny booty cheeks wiggled.
- Obama-san.. How ive missed this feeling.. Bob pecked Baracks smooth kawaii cheek.
- What are you waiting for, lovely?~
- Oh naur, barack.. Not here.. Bob sighed. Lets just spend some time in here first.
It had started to rain either way, and none of them had any umbrellas. So why not have a fun time in a local 7eleven? Not every day you get to do that.
-
They both were having fun, but suddenly, Careless Wisper started playing in the background.
- Care for a dance?
- r-r-really??
- Of course, my dear. Now shut up and dance with me, Obama-san.
The started to aesthetically twirl to the hotty hot hot Careless Whisper song by Something something Michael. Why is like every singer called Michael theres Michael jackson, Michael buble and likje what the gfucck.
- What in th- eh whatever. Barely anything happens here anyway, ill just let them dance.
Yes, the cashier saw the entire thing. What did you expect? like nobody was working there? unrealistic piece of shit.
Either way, the cashier let them dance happily, in a local 7-eleven.
How romantic.
AN: hope you all somewhat enjoyed this scrap. I made it in school instead of working soooe yknow its not the best. EITHER WAY we all have to agree on this, obama x bob is a valid ship. DONT TALK TO ME IF YOU DONT AGREE, I MEAN IF YOU DONT AGREE WHY ARE YOU EVEN IN HERE
k anyways chapter two is being worked on rn.
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