#himbogob

➣ 18 - ideal weather?:

thunderstormmmm!!! love me some rain and calm darkness,,, but also i do like the very few chilly days florida gets where it’s like,,, low 60s (ºF) and just the perfect middle ground,,,

➣ 47 - favorite type of cheese?:

hmmm,,, swiss probably! or mozzarella,,, idk man, i eat a lot of cheese (i can you my least favorite tho and that’s bleu cheese)

➣ 62 - seven characters you relate to?:

1. ,,,newt geiszler

2. charlie kelly

3. andy campbell

4. ben hanscom 

5. puppycat

6. tie between aziraphale & crowley (let’s be real i’m probably newt pulsifer tho)

He was taking out the kettle to make a pot of unsweetened black tea when the phone rang again. He got a sudden, strong feeling of deja vu. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, then looked up to the ceiling again, as if to apologize to Jesus himself for taking his Good Name in vain. He picked up the phone with a quick, sharp motion. “Ma, I am going to bed.”

“Huh? Do I have the wrong number?”

It was Richie Tozier.

Heat flooded Eddie’s cheeks, and he wondered if he could get away with slamming the phone down and pretending nothing happened. That would be a little cruel, though, so instead he managed to get out an, “Oh, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. If you were expecting a call from your ma, I can hang up, I’d hate to keep you.” Richie sounded wide awake too, like he was calling him in the middle of the day and not one in the goddamn (Sorry, God) morning.

“No, no, it’s fine. My ma did call me, but I thought she was calling me back, because she kind of has a tendency to—oh, it’s not important. She talks a lot.” He looked into the kitchen, where the empty kettle sat on the unlit stove.

➣ lime - i don’t talk to you but i really love your blog

➣ tangerine - we have a lot in common