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IM HAVING HEART PALPITATIONS (credit to mr. burnham on vine)

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SpiderMan -Bo Imagine
Summary: Bo hears screaming from the house next to him, and turns out, the girl is scared of a spider.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
âââââââââââââââ-
Boâs pvo-
âThis stupid shoe string.â I muttered to myself as I tried to finish tying my shoes. Why am I having trouble tying my shoes? Because Iâm nervous about a date. Why am I going on a date? Good question. Well, about a week ago, I was just minding my own business. All I was doing, was sitting on the couch, watching tv. And then all of a sudden, I hear this loud scream! Like, someone was getting murder. So, you know what- let me just take you back to that day I met my probably future wife, Y/N. Here we go.
-One week ago-
âDora! The candy island is right behind you! God! Itâs not like itâs on the other side of the world!â I screamed at the tv. I lost my remote, so Iâm stuck watching Dora the Explorer. Why donât I just get up and change the channel from the tv? Because laziness, my friend.
âAHHHHHHHHH!â
âWhat the-â I said to myself as I stood up from the couch. I knew where that sound came from, it came from Y/N. Her and I have seen each other around here and there. Like, when we go get the mail, or she needs help with her groceries, and stuff along those lines. We only say hi and bye to each other, but damn, there would be nothing I would love more than to get to know her.
I quickly slipped on my shoes, and ran out the door. Considering we lived next to one another, it wasnât that long till I got to her house. I knocked on her door, and after about 30 seconds of her muttering curse words under her breath, and the sound of her stomping her foot, she opened the door. And dang, she looked beautiful. Even with no makeup on, her hair up in a bun, and her sweats on, she still was amazingly amazing.
âYeah, Bo?â She asked, obviously out of breath. âAre you okay, Y/N? I heard you scream.â I said with a light chuckle, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my pajama bottoms. âYou heard that from all the way over here?â She asked, a slightly confused, but adorable, look on her face. âThin walls.â I replied, rocking back and forth on my hills.
She just nodded her head, âVery true. Well, there is this spider in here and I hate spiders more than anything.â She said, licking her lips. âWould you like some help?â I asked with a light chuckle, raising my eyebrow up at her. âThat would be amazing.â She replied, opening her door wider for me to come in.
-Fast forward to about 20 minutes-
âThe spider was right there just a second ago!â She screamed, stomping her feet. I laughed as I held a can of her hairspray in my hand. âIâm going to kill it with this.â I said, shaking the can. She just looked at me with a dumbfounded look on her face. âAh, yes, Bo. You wonât kill it with that, but itâs hair will be fabulous!â She said, beginning to laugh.
âDo you have a better idea?!â I said, looking at her with a wide smile on my face. âWell, I have batarangs upstairs.â She said with a nod, trying her best to not laugh. I just shook my head at her, and begin to look around her living room with something to kill it with. And then, something caught my eye.
âWhat is this?â I asked with a light smirk playing on my lips. I was holding up my book of poetry, Egghead. She just looked at me with wide eyes, and took a couple of steps back. âUh, totally not your book.â She said, trying to play it cool. âSuuuure.â I said, letting out a laugh. âBO! BEHIND YOU!â She screamed, pointing at the direction of the spider. I turned around, and boom! There was the spider, on the wall. Without thinking, I killed the spider. Not with the hairspray, but with the back of my book. âWell, now you can change the name of your book to spiderhead.â She said, chuckling. âWhoops?â I said, chuckling along with her.
âYou owe me a new book.â She said, crossing her arms over her chest, with a beautiful smile on her lips. âHow about I give you a new book, and a date?â I asked her, trying to be smooth. Which never worked out well. She let out an adoring laugh, and placed her hands on her hips. âI would like that very very much.â
Just friends? Part 1
Summary: You and Bo meet at a carnival, and yaâll soon become very good friends, at least, thatâs what you think.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Just some curse words. âââââââââââââââ-
âY/N, letâs go!â Your best friend, Alycia, screamed at you. You and her were going to go to a carnival, which only came around once a year. âGive me a damn second!â You screamed back at her. You could here her sigh downstairs, which caused you to chuckle. Alycia had just broken up with her boyfriend, so she wanted to go scope out the singles. You and her had been best friends for quiet sometime. Both of you lived together in your oleâ Boston apartment. As you quickly finished getting dressed, you rushed down the stairs, almost tripping like usual. âLetâs go get some action!â She said in a loud tone as she grabbed the car keys, and ran out the door. You just laughed at her stupidity, grabbed your jacket, and ran out the door along with your boy-crazed bestie.
(At the carnival) âY/N, this way!â Alycia screamed at you as she pointed to the ice cream stand. She was about a couple of feet in front of you, running to the ice cream stand. You and her have already rode pretty much every ride there. Youâve gotten a couple of numbers, and so has she. And her being the person she is, she already promised those guys a call back. As you and her stepped in line, a very tall man got in line also, standing right behind you and her. âHey, those seats are filling up pretty fast.â Alycia said as she pointed to the seating area, and she continued, âIâm going to go save us a seat. And try to get those guysâ numbers. You know what I want!â She said as she winked at you, and ran off. You rocked back and forth on your heels, waiting for the line to move forward. But of course, the line was longer than the equator. âExcuse me?â Someone said behind you as they tapped your shoulder. You turned around to face the one and only, Bo Motherfucking Burnham. And of course, you knew who he was. You were actually reading Egghead in the car on your way over here. âUh, um, yes?â You asked him, trying your best to remain calm. âI was wondering if you would tell me why your best friend is practically having sex with the guy on the table.â He said as he pointed in the direction of Alycia. You turned your attention towards her to see some dude and her showing a lot of PDA. You just shook your head, and turned your attention back to Bo. âIf I knew the answer, I would be happy to answer it for you.â You said as Bo let out a very adorable laugh. He stuck his hand out for you to shake, and added, âMy name is Bo.â You gladly shook his hand, flashing a smile over at him. âMy name is Y/N.â You said back to him. âAh, a pretty name for a pretty girl.â He said, causing your cheeks to turn into blood red. âT-thank you.â You managed to get out, looking up at him. As the time passed, you and Bo had just been talking about anything and everything. Even at some points, you forgot you were in line for ice cream. And of course, people screamed at you and him when the line moved, and yaâll didnât. You felt like you have known him forever, and he felt the exact same way. Without knowing it, Bo and yourself got pushed out of line. But of course, you and him didnât even care. Yaâll continued to talk and talk before Alycia came over to you. âY/N! Where is my ice cream?!?â She said as she walked up to you. Her hair was a mess, and her makeup was smeared, showing that she just had a make out session. âOh- shit. Sorry, Alycia. Iâve been talking to him.â You said referring to Bo. Alycia just smirked, nodded her head, and began to walk backwards slowly. âOkay, okay.â She said, that dumb smirk still on her face. âLadies and gentlemen, the carnival is closing. Please make your way to the exit.â A very obvious drunk man said of the intercom. âUm, may I have your number?â Bo asked. You could tell he was somewhat nervous. The way he played with his fingers, wouldnât look at you directly in your eyes, and chewed on his bottom lip gave that away instantly. You just nodded your head, and smiled widely to yourself. âWell, duh, of course.â âââââââââââââââ- Okay, I lied. It came out tonight. Sorry itâs so long, I got carried away with it. Feedback will be greatly, greatly appreciated!!!
Shootbadcabbies did this comission for me a couple weeks ago and I will never get over how cute these little babies are. Itâs based on my little ficlet that is here.
Bo Burnham for Vanity Fair - Comedyâs Young Stars

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can someone get bo burnham to host snl. please.
three weeks
what is this?: a bo burnham imagine summary: youâre both summer camp counselors, and the entire camp ships you words: 1433 triggers:Â none except for cutenessÂ
âDo you think Iâll drown?â
âUnlikely. Creeks arenât that big.â
âWhat if I get malaria from the mosquitos?â
âEasy, natural selection.â
âBo!â
âWhat? Itâs true.â
You rolled your eyes and lean on his shoulder, or rather, his upper arm. If only he would just shrink a few inches. Youâre on the rickety bus to Camp Victory, not as campers but as senior counselors. You both needed the service hours and, anyway,  itâs not like either of you would really have been doing anything else over the summer, unless you count the vicious Mario Kart tournaments that almost always ends with Bo threatening a breakup. You know Boâs going to be great at this whole counselor thing, because heâs essentially a kid himselfâ when heâs not writing satire about religion, at least. But as for you⌠kids arenât exactly your forte, and here you are about to deal with a whole cabin full of them.
You feel Bo shift a bit under you. âHey, lay off. I thought we werenât doing PDA for⌠three weeks? Three weeks.â
âOh, relax, you big baby,â you say, closing your eyes. âWeâre not there yet.â Youâd insisted on this stipulation before you left, much to your boyfriendâs dismay. You figured making out in front of a bunch of kids wasnât exactly the best way to show the face of responsibility.
âIn that case, I think I should be able to get another kiss before this dumb dry spell youâre forcing on me.â
You donât say anything at first; you only tilt your head back stick your lips out in your worst duck-face impression. âCome and get it.â
You can feel his smile when he kisses you, the edge of his glasses gently pushing in to your cheek. Youâre the one who pulls away though, and when Bo tries to come back for more you push a finger against his lips.
âThree weeks,â you say.
âThree weeks.â
 âââââââââââââââââââââââ
 You decide that, upon arrival, Camp Victory was originally built for munchkins. There are two facing rows of small cabins, twelve in all, odd numbers on one side, even on the other. Each is crammed with four bunk beds but no utilitiesâ- just two small dressers with drawers, some shelves, and eight coat hooks. Bo was seriously going to have some bruises on him the first few days. Youâd read on the website that it was owned by a church, which donated the camp to the countyâs social services for three weeks each summer for summer camp. It was run on a shoestring, and you didnât expect more than the basics. The basics were all you got.
You and Bo are split from the second you get off the bus; boys get the odd-numbered cabins, and girls, the even ones. Senior counselors, you found out, were to be in charge of seven kids each, ages seven to ten. Every cabin was supposed to choose a name for itselfâ your girls pick Werewolves, which should have told you something right there.
After everyone gets their stuff settled in the cabins and sleeping assignments are arranged, everything happens at top-speed. Mr. Harrigan, the camp director, hands all the counselors clipboards with their kidsâ names and that cabinâs schedule for the day. It seems that Mr. Harrigan doesnât want to waste one second of the long summer hours, and the rest of your day is filled with baseball, volleyball, canoeing, and hiking. You have to keep mentally counting your girls to make sure none of them have run off. Â
The next time you see Bo is when you pass him and his boys during an activity switch. âHey, Bo,â you say, nudging him with your hip. âWhat name did you get yourselves? Iâve got the Werewolves.â
âBuzzards,â he replies, tucking his clipboard under his arm. âAKA, the best name.â He doesnât get to say more, because one of his boys quickly runs up and grabs his arm.
âBo, câmon! The canoe race is gonna start any minute!â
Bo raises his eyebrows at you, the corners of his lips twitching up as he allows the boy to lead him away. You canât help but stand and smile after them, and itâs not long before one of your own girls tugs your shirt.
You and the rest of the Werewolves spend the quiet hour after dinner not-so-quiet at all, working out whose stuff is left everywhere and whose shoes are stinking up the place. Youâre about to collapse into a twenty minute nap when one of themâ Abigail, you think her name isâ says something that gets your attention.
âYou know, I bet [Y/N] likes that tall counselor.â Giggling ripples through the little wooden cabin. Abigailâs voice gets all sing-songy then. âDoooo you, [Y/N]? Huh? Dooooo you?â
You shrug. âMaybe,â you say, knowing your vagueness will drive them bananas. It does, and they shriek with laughter.
âWhat would you do if we told him?â Another girl. Her nameâs⌠what? Jessie?
You laugh. âOh, Iâd hang you by your little toenails, girl-baby.â More laughter, because they donât need to know youâre actually dating that cute tall counselor just yet.
They also donât need to know that he holds your hand under the blanket at the campfire that night.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
The weeks slip by, and before you know it youâre constantly covered in angry mosquito bites, sweat, and occasional lake water. Boâs not faring too well, either; the Buzzards and Werewolves had crafts together one day, and Bo just couldnât stop scratching.
âStop it!â you say, slapping his hand down when you see it move up to his arm. âScratching it only makes it worse.â
âOh, come onnnnn, [Y/N]! I think I might actually be dying.â
âPft, drama queen.â Â
You notice that Boâs boys are looking at the both of you in a really weird way, and when you catch them a smatter of giggling breaks out, followed by a bunch of whispers. You raise your eyebrows pointedly at your boyfriend, which clearly asks: Motherfucker, did you tell a bunch of fourth graders we were dating?
âI didnât say anything,â Bo says quickly, raising his hands up in a quick surrender, but your eyebrows only get higher.
âWhy. Are. They. Looking at us like that?âŚâ
âRelax. Robbie 2000 has got it all under control.â
You hit him with your clipboard when he says that stupid nickname from high school, but your question still isnât really answered.
But does he answer your question on the last night of camp. Oh, yes, he does.
The last campfire goes like the usual onesâ he sits by you and everyone sings all the traditional campfire songs and some ghost stories go around. But when the hourâs up and you start to stand to get back to your cabin, Bo pulls you back down. âYouâll wanna see this,â he whispers before he gets up. The chatter dies down and you see that the boys in his cabin are looking particularly eager.
âAlright, so⌠quick little thing before you guys all go⌠a few days ago two of my boysâ Andy and Finn, Iâm lookinâ at youâ got into this huge argument over whose shoes were laying in the doorway to our cabin.  So, being the responsible, peacemaking counselor I am, I gave them some options: one, they work this out themselves, but they donât have to be friends. Two, they work it out and become friends. Threeââ
âBo kisses that girl heâs always with!â one of his boys blurts, and the rest of the camp shrieks with laughter and surprised yells. A huge smile splits your face and you struggle to push it off, trying to appear as disgusted as the other girl campers were. You were, after all, the face of responsibilityâŚ
âNow,â Bo says once the noise has died down. âI have asked Mr. Harrigan if itâs alright if some PG-13 stuff is shown tonight, and he has agreed, so, props to Mr. Harriganââ gesture to the director, whoâs positively red with laughter at whatâs unfolding before him.
âAnd so, [Y/N],â Bo says, pulling you up to your feet, âWould you do me a favor and kiss me on this fine night under the stars?â
Now you canât fight the huge smile on your face thatâs probably making you blush like a schoolgirl, and youâre thankful for the semi-darkness thatâs coating you.
âYou want to see me kiss this lovely boy?â you ask the circle of campers around the fire. Thereâs cheers all around before you turn back to face your boyfriend.
âThree weeks,â you shake your head.
âThree weeks.â
adored by him
what is this?: a bo burnham imagine summary: um⌠there isnât really one?? itâs sorta just like⌠thinking back to the times when you were always there for him but you were always overlooked, and you couldnât help but wonder how it felt to be adored by him⌠words: 840 triggers: none inspired by this song!Â
ââââââââ-how does it feel to be adored by him?âââââââ--
The first time the question visits you, itâs when youâre catching up with your best friend from high school over frozen yogurt. You both went to different colleges, and you hadnât seen her much in the past few months. Youâre laughing over a stupid Tweet youâre showing her when her own phone buzzes, and you can tell who it is from the way her eyes light up.Â
âItâs Bo. Gotta take this,â she says, hopping off her stool. âHey, baby!âŚNo, nothing much, just out with a friendâŚâ her voice fades away as she heads outside in search of a better signal. You twirl your phone in your hands, the sound it makes as each side hits the counter reminding you a little of how your heart feels: thunk. thunk. thunk.
Youâve known Bo since you started at the same college last year, and heâd filled the gaping hole in your life called Best Friend. If you were stressed about an upcoming exam or project deadline, he was the first to be there with his seemingly infinite supply of Pop Tarts and stupid puns about your professor. When your boyfriend for all of three months dumped you last semester, Bo was there to listen to you rant and rave and cry, repeat. Bo doesnât even have to speak; sometimes just his company is enough, just knowing that heâs nearby when you both study silently for your majors in his dorm or yours.Â
But then youâd introduced Bo to your other best friend, and now⌠things are different. Youâre seeing him less and less, and you didnât even know that he was planning on dropping out of college until another one of your mutual friends told you. It saddens you that there are parts of his life that you no longer no about, when you used to know⌠everything.Â
Youâre happy for your two friends, that theyâve found happiness in each other, but at the same time you find that thereâs a hollow ache in you, right where your diaphragm is. He never looks at you the way he does her, never smiles at you like youâre some marvel of Greek marble. He never lets his lips graze your hairline when you hug him, or anywhere else, for that matter.Â
And you canât help but want him to.Â
ââââââââ-how does it feel to be adored by him?âââââââ--
The next time the question rears its ugly head, itâs a few years later. Youâve graduated, Boâs dropped out, and who knows what your friend is up to. You lost contact with her after she quietly ended things with him a few months after that frozen yogurt date. But you think that youâre the real winner here, because now Boâs career is finally taking off and youâre spending more and more weekends at his house, helping him with his new material. Usually, heâll come up with the joke, and youâll try to help find a way to make it fit into a song. This usually spawns several hours of hysterical, stomach-aching laughter as you try to think of words that rhyme with âorange,â or watch Bo try to think of puns about God.Â
But you like it. You find that messing with words with your best friend for a while calms you down, brings things back into perspective. And you canât help but notice the way that Bo almost lovingly looks at his keyboard, the same one heâs used in his old high school videos, the same one that mustâve traveled thousands of miles with him across the country. He holds it close to his heart, probably closer than anyoneâs ever been to him. You find it a little unnerving that youâre jealous of a keyboardâ- an objectâ- but as you watch his fingers dance along the keys and his foot jiggle in time to the music you canât help but smile at that lucky little keyboard, the one that gets to have Boâs heart and soul written all over it.Â
ââââââââ-how does it feel to be adored by him?âââââââ--The last time the question comes to you, itâs 2:43 A.M. For some reason, youâve slipped up to the surface of sleep, the kind of barely-there conciousness you save for early mornings before work.Â
Heâs next to you, clad in his Rubikâs Cube shirt and some boxers with lightning bolts you got him for Valentineâs this year. In the moonlight, you see his eyes are closed, his chest regular with his deep, even breathing. You gaze at him for a few moments, drinking him in, his tiny sighs and twitches. Then you scootch closer to him, pulling the duvet back up over his shoulder before pressing a kiss to his cheek, the cheek youâve been entitled to since your college days.Â
Sleepâs almost got a hold of you again when you finally come up with an answer to the question thatâs been plaguing you for the past five years.Â
It feels pretty damn good.Â
Art is Dead - Bo Burnham live at The Boulder Theater April 3, 2015
ok while im on the topic of booby lunchman i have a Story from my show i would like to share
so when Bo came out he was wearing a sweater and pretty early into the show he decided to take it off, and when he did a guy in the front shouted âtoss itâ and Bo was at first just like wtf but then he was like âok you want me to toss it?????â and then he just threw the sweater towards the back of the stage lmao
but then he went into this whole improvised rant asking the guy if thatâs how he goes about his life. just asking for people to toss things he hasnât earned. like if he shows up to a job interview and heâs just like âi know i have no credentials but why donât you just⌠toss it.â Walks up to a girl way out of his league and is just like âhey. [head nod] toss it.â I donât remember all of it but he finished up with âboy youâre gonna love salad barsâ and it was so funny Ok
then for the rest of the show he just kept working in the phrase âtoss itâ at random times. all the way up to the encore when he was doing oh bo at the part where heâs usually like âchorus is comin upâ he fuckin said âtoss itâ i hate him thanks

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Ever wanted stuff with Bo Burnhamâs face on it? Look no further! You can buy various items and prints of my Bo Burnham biro pen drawing on Redbubble: http://www.redbubble.com/people/enigmaticdoodle/works/14662730-bo-burnham?ref=recent-owner
This is what i like to see
This is what dreams are made of.
relationship goals
Miles Behind Us//A Bo Burnham Imagine
Anonymous said: âCan you do a one-shot where you are Boâs best friend and his girlfriend dumps him in like the middle of the night so naturally he ends up at your house and platonic cuddles turn into something more? ;)))))â
Of course I can. With this one, I think I am going to do like vague smut kind of like I did with the George Weasley one. I am terrible at doing outright smut to be honest.
This is actually my favorite Bo imagine Iâve done so far.
//
Title: Miles Behind Us
Character/Celebrity: Bo Burnham
Word Count: 1058
Rating: T-M
Warnings: brief sexual content/language/I may have made this very very dramatic tbh
//
It was around two in the morning when Bo texted you.
Of course you were still awake, watching Daredevil on Netflix and eating Poptarts. This was what you were normally doing on a Thursday night now that youâd dropped out of college and gotten your own place.
When your text tone went off (the punchline of one of Boâs jokes; heâd convinced you to be the first to download it when it had been released), you groggily reached for your phone, yawning as you paused your show to read it.
text from âboâ
received: 2:06am
subject: none
hey iâm coming over donât ask any questions
be there in five
-b
You groaned and dragged a hand down your face. Bo was always coming over at ungodly hours of the night to complain about his latest girlfriend who had quite the habit of being a bitch.
You didnât even bother to respond since he had told you to not ask any questions, instead settling on raiding your fridge for alcohol. You pulled out your bottle of raspberry vodka and found Boâs favorite whiskey in the cabinet next to you. These were the drinks you two had a tendency to down irresponsibly whenever either of you had a problem.
//
Bo was right. The doorbell rang at exactly 2:11am and you answered it, inviting him in. He was really upset this time; a different kind of upset than the kind he normally was.
Still, you waited your normal ten minutes before asking what was wrong.
2:21am.
âWhat did she do this time?â you asked. He shrugged and you knew it was something pretty bad. He held out his now-empty glass and you poured him more whiskey. He downed it in one gulp and you knew it was time to put the alcohol away.
It was another twelve minutes before Bo said anything to indicate what was wrong.
2:33am.
â(y/n), do you think Iâm enough?â he asked. The two of you had migrated to your bedroom. He was laying back against your pillows, an arm over his face and you were watching the TV; it was turned on, but there wasnât anything actually playing. You scooted back so that you were closer to him, and lay down next to him on your side.
âWhat?â
âAm I enough?â he asked. âFunny enough, smart enough, good enough?â You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment, debating how to answer this question. You knew for a fact that Bo was good enough, but you wanted to know why heâd asked.
âDoes this have to do with Lexi?â you asked. He shrugged.
âJust answer the question.â
âJust answer mine.â
âI asked you first.â You groaned because your best friend was an absolute child.
âOf course youâre good enough, Bo.â you said, âIn all of the categories that exist. Youâre funny, smart, attractive, caring⌠Youâre one of the best people Iâve ever met.â
âAttractive?â he asked peeking at you from behind his arm. You rolled your eyes.
âThatâs the one that resonated with you?â you asked, because he could not be serious right now. Bo turned over as well, looking at you.
âIâm only joking.â He said. You smiled because of course you already knew that. Then his arms were open and you were in them, your head on his chest.
2:37am.
âWhat happened, Bo?â
âHmm?â
In the two minutes since youâd last spoken, it appeared Bo had begun to fall asleep. His chest was rising and falling slowly now, lazily.
âLexi.â you explained, âWhat did she do?â His sigh vibrated in every cell of your body.
âShe cheated on me, (y/n).â He told you. He didnât sound upset, he just sounded calm. You closed your eyes and let out a breath. Youâd kind of suspected this when heâd asked if he was good enough.
âOh, Bo.â you said because you didnât think there was anything you could say to make this better.
He never responded, only held you tighter to him. You turned away from him and allowed him to pull you against his body. You felt his chest expand into your back as his breathing slowed once more.
3:02am.
It was about twenty minutes later when you felt his lips on your shoulder. You tried to keep your eyes shut, pretend you were asleep. But both of you knew you were not.
Still, you didnât stop him.
Of course you had always been attracted to him. The fact that you had known him for years didnât change the way your eyes worked.
â(y/n) look at me.â You did as you were told, turning over to face him once more. His eyes werenât dark, they werenât harsh, they werenât foreign. This was your Bo. The one you loved. The one who needed you.
When his lips met yours, the world disappeared.
You forgot that you hadnât had sleep in almost two days now. You forgot that he had just been dumped and this was probably desperation to be close to someone. You forgot all of that because the way his lips moved against yours felt too real to be faked.
His hands roamed your sides, the bare skin at your hip set on fire from his touch. He reached behind your head to undo the claw hair clip from your long hair.
âI always liked your hair better down.â He answered your unasked question.
You put a hand on his arm. No words passed your lips, but you knew he knew.
There was a line and you two were getting close to it. If you crossed it, there was no going back; no taking this back.
âAll you have to do is say no.â he whispered, knowing the thoughts in your head better than you did.
But you couldnât say no, wouldnât say no. Not with his mouth on your jaw and his fingers in your hair.
And you gave in.
You allowed yourself to become lost in him.
Your bodies were fires you were helpless to put out. You gave him everything, more than willingly, until you had nothing left to give. There was something magical in the way that you felt no remorse, no guilt, as he took it all from you.
The line hadnât just been crossed, it was miles behind you.
//
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âoh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shitâ
When a guy jumps on stage during a Bo Burnham show⌠Buckhead Theatre 03/18/15

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Bo Burnham trying to get drunk Brian off stage. Larry, the security guy, wasnât doing his job.
Got too caught up to remember to turn the camera sideways. Whoops.
Bo Burnham at Laughfest 2015, photographed by Brian Kelly.