#narcoleptixs

[honeyhcarted]

𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒  𝑜𝑓  𝑡ℎ𝑒  𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 -  𝑡ℎ𝑒  𝑧𝑜𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑒𝑠

𝑡ℎ𝑒  𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑  𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠  𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 -  𝑗𝑖𝑚𝑖  ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑥

𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒  𝑜𝑓  𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟  𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒  -  𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚

𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒  𝑏𝑜𝑦  -  𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑙𝑓

𝑛𝑒𝑜𝑛  𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛  -  𝑐𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑠  𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟  𝑠𝑒𝑥

𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑡  𝑏𝑜𝑦  -  𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑧

𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟,  𝑦𝑜𝑢  𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑’𝑣𝑒  𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒  𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟  -  𝑗𝑒𝑓𝑓  𝑏𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑦

                                                                (  @narcoleptixs​ )

[agirl-whosold-theworld]

Just wanted to share some pics of my sleep disorder.

[ko3ak-archive]

@narcoleptixs​ sent: [ REQUEST ] sender walks into receiver’s room hoping to crawl in bed with them  [ OOP 👀 ] ( meme )

That night was a sleepless one, possibly due to the fact that Sokol was up into the wee hours of the night on his phone, watching some ice hockey game live if the blare of noise and yelling was anything to go by. You would think Sokol was concentrating with razor sharp focus, but he wasn’t. He was listening for the click of the door lock outside, for the groan of the couch springs when Mike settled down for the night.

Sokol must've fallen asleep at some point, because when he awoke, it was still dark out and Mike was lingering by his bedside. Mike, who no doubt returned from a client who wouldn't let him stay, who probably knew he could score a warm spot in a bed with a friend. And he wasn’t wrong. Not sure what compelled Sokol to put the phone down and grab Mike's wrist, but he did, and fortunately the rest of him followed and Mike was in bed with him. 

There was a moment of quietness as the Russian studied him, turned on his side. The only way for the bed to accommodate them both. He could just about barely make out the outline of Mike’s ears, but his expression was unreadable in the darkness. Was he looking at him? Was he asleep? There were so many things to talk about-- but so little time.   

It frustrated him, tortured him, left him hollow and spacey as he counted down the days, the hours, when Mike wasn’t around. He couldn’t properly celebrate a job well-done or enjoy sightseeing with Sydney because how could he, when he could be spending that time sorting out his thoughts, with Mike, before leaving this place behind.

Sometimes he toyed with the idea of bringing Mike with him. Finding him a job in the city would only be a matter of pulling strings. Or, as the Russian thought with certain relish, a good honeytrap if a heist called for it. But as much as he thought money could solve everything, it couldn’t. The hustler was a creature of habit in sleepy Idaho, a pacifist, and probably wouldn’t leave. 

And just when the window of opportunity to just talk presented itself, Sokol was so infuriatingly sleepy he was fighting to stay awake. So he’d allowed himself ten seconds ( or was it ten minutes? ) of shut-eye, before cracking his eyes open again. 

“ You said you had a secret.” The words were even. Measured and deliberate, like the step preceding the steep drop off a cliff. “ You gonna tell me what it is? ”

[jakewheelr]

✿ !

𝗣𝗥𝗘-𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗗 𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣𝗦.

send me a  ✿  and i’ll fill out the template below. bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  / [ your muse ] is the good influence  / [ your muse ] is the bad influence  / [ my muse ] is the good influence  / [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other .

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  / [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  / [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ] /  unrequited [ from my muses side ] /  unrequited [ from both sides ] /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ] /  soulmates  [ literal ] /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ] /  cheating [ with your muse ] /  other .

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ] /  siblings [ step ] / [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  / [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  / [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  / [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  / [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  / [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other .

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other .

[morbidmourning-a]

@narcoleptixs / continued from ask.

she watches him,without it being too obvious - at least she hoped it wasn't,it's his reaction to her words that make her frown,and sometimes,she really regretted being as honest as she is,even if it was raw enough to where half the time,those who knew her best,and mike was one of those people who knew her and knew she'd never bullshit anyone,she wondered if maybe things she'd say were better left unsaid. but she knew deep down,mike needed to hear it. though she nods her head at his words,,green hues still on him,she speaks up,hair kicking up with the slight breeze in the air.

''yeah,i get what you mean. i feel that way at times,sure,like where i am at just isn't...home. it never feels like home,no matter how many times you run and find a new place,nothing makes sense when you run. and sometimes,you forget why you ran away to begin with.''she says with a hand running through her own messy hair,due to the wind,due to her not giving a shit,her platinum blonde locks never staying in place,but the wind felt nice,it gave her a chill she didn't mind,with that though,she listens intently to him before she speaks up again,gently taking the cigarette and taking at hit as she had done before,inhale,exhale - it never grew old,the nicotine burning her throat dull from years of smoking,after exhaling the smoke in rings,she turns back to him,twirling around the cancer stick between her fingers while ash fell to the ground.

''portland doesn't seem half bad. but i feel you,i get what you mean. i'm glad i came down to see you,it's pretty fuckin' boring without you,but i wasn't mad when you left. i don't know if i could,i think it'd break my folks heart. they want me to take over the family mortuary business,and i don't know if that's what i want.''

[m0nstrousneeds-a]

@narcoleptixs​   said  :    “ 𝚢𝚘𝚞   𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢   𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎   𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎   𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢   𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗   ?”

𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚑  𝚒𝚜  𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝  𝚊𝚜  𝚒𝚝  𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚜  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜  𝚘𝚏  𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚒𝚌  𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜  and  honeyed  hues  are  cast  downward.  she  bites  down  on  her  smile  before  looking  back  up  to  him.          “i  know  it’s  the  most  cliché  ---  goth  girl  goes  to  the  cemetery  for  halloween.  𝑜𝑜ℎ,  𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑦,  𝑒𝑑𝑔𝑦  𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠.  but  i  swear  it’s  more  than  that.”            the  crunching  of  fallen  leaven  beneath  their  feet  is  the  only  sound  to  be  heard  now,  𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒  𝑓𝑜𝑟  𝑡ℎ𝑒  𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟  𝑜𝑓  𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑  𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡  𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠  𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ  𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑦  𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡  𝑎𝑖𝑟.  her  palms  stretch  over  the  straps  of  her  backpack  that  rests  heavy  along  her  shoulders.  up  ahead,  a  small  clearing  of  patchy  grass  that  she  aims  for  in  her  steps.        “have  you  ever  heard  of  dia  de  los  muertos?  the  day  of  the  dead?”          fishnet  clad  knees  press  into  the  grass  when  she  kneels  in  it,  𝑡𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔  𝑡ℎ𝑒  𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑘  𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚  ℎ𝑒𝑟  𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠  𝑎𝑛𝑑  𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔  𝑖𝑡  𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛  𝑖𝑛  𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡  𝑜𝑓  ℎ𝑒𝑟.  she  speaks  to  him  softly  as  hands  work  at  drawstrings  and  buckles.            “dia  de  los  muertos  is  a  celebration  of  the  people  that  have  passed  on.  in  mexico,  it’s  a  day  of  tradition  and  family.  it’s  the  day  after  halloween,  which  is  why  we’re  here  at  11:55  --  just  in  time.”          she  gives  him  a  smile,            “it’s  tradition  to  leave  marigolds  on  the  headstones  of  those  you’ve  lost.  𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝑟𝑒  𝑎  𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛  𝑜𝑓  𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒’𝑠  𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦  𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒  𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦  ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒  𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ  𝑎  𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡  𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑚.  but,  it’s  impossible  to  find  them  here,  so  i  got  yellow  roses  instead.  it’s  probably  stupid  but  ---  i  like  to  leave  one  on  every  grave  in  the  cemetery.  i  don’t  know  anyone  buried  here,  but..  i’d  want  someone  to  do  that  for  me,  even  if  nobody  ever  came  to  visit  but  that  one  time  of  year.”            she  laughs  at  herself,  𝑎𝑡  ℎ𝑜𝑤  𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑦  𝑠ℎ𝑒  𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡  𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑,  𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔  ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒  𝑟𝑒𝑑-𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑘𝑒𝑑,  𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔  𝑜𝑓  𝑜𝑙𝑑  𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠  𝑎𝑛𝑑  𝑛𝑒𝑤..  her  backpack  lifts  and  she  gently  dumps  it’s  contents  along  the  grass  ;  a  waterfall  of  long  stemmed  yellow  roses.            “anyway,  i  thought  maybe  you’d,  uhm,  𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍  𝚒𝚝..  𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.”

[bladedlegacy-aa]

        @narcoleptixs​     :      liked for a starter                  ↳               –            [  call  ]

❛        i thought about        waking you up ,      but then i didn’t want to .        what were you dreaming about ,       anyways ?      ❜      

[gavelsins]

@narcoleptixs​ is patching over:

❝ Look, kid, you better turn around and go back to whatever small town hole you crawled away from. ❞ He stated unamused, a cigarette soon finding home between his lips. After it was lit, he didn't bother blowing the smoke away from him. ❝ This isn't a place for a kid; we aren't a shelter that'll take in strays and feed you. ❞ His words were harsh; even he could recognize that. However, in his mind, the kid before him was too young to even contemplate being a HANG AROND.

❝ I don't know what you heard, but this ain't no charity. ❞ It seemed like more and more; obstacles were keeping him from getting off his bike — more and more people finding their way to TM and he had to operate under the notion that everyone was a threat until proven otherwise. The outlaw was already in a fowl mood, walls were closing around the Club and he wanted nothing more than to keep his family safe. But he knew that being a good outlaw came at the expense of being a good man. Perhaps though it was the father in him, trying to deter some young kid from walking down the path of the REAPER.

❝ Why the hell are you hanging around a place like this anyways? ❞

As much as he loved this life, it was no place for a child to grow up; it was no place for a young kid like the one before him to hang around in the hopes of becoming a prospect. ❝ Unless you got a car in the shop, I suggest you find somewhere else to go. Got it? ❞ This time his words were stern, laced with subliminal warnings — a whispered threat, and he was the type of man who always followed through on his threats. If logic alone would not scare the kid away, then he would play the part of the scumbag outlaw.

[vihilum]

@narcoleptixs said, “maybe i should be more afraid. maybe.”

The world made a mockery of the fearful - the most trustful ones were always the first to feel the edge of the knife. Someone had to walk the plank first. Cut from birth, shouldn’t they all have known better? Be more afraid?

“No,” fear was a noose, and it tugged like quicksand - move, suffocate, move, and drown in it. “Fuck that.”

Metallic lighter clinks open with a swish - he lights the stick’s edge.

“You know that old idiom? Curiosity killed the cat,” he takes a swift drag of the spliff before offering it to Mike, “that’s only part of it.” History was often forgotten, and so they’d be doomed to repeat it, “The whole expression is, ‘Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back’.”

Shoulders settle against the cushion, “The world isn’t built for fear, so,” a smile cracked wide, “be curious instead.”

[ko3ak-archive]

For Mike ( @narcoleptixs ), from Sokol with love. Continued from here.

Well, sleep study aside, that’s another way to make money.

Sokol laughs it off like it’s nothing and stubs out the light on the armrest. 

“ Really, now. ” Sokol says coolly, but there’s a spark, some intrigue behind the insouciance, more about the man than his profession, and his mind does him no favours by conjuring up an... interesting mental image. One that involves his scarred hands and Mike’s pretty mouth, but with how much they’d fumble in the dark the polaroids probably will come out a blur. It makes him want to take a long, hot shower. 

And it wasn’t like Sokol expected Mike to look at him like that earlier, strands of his hair tickling his arm, nose to his forehead close enough to touch, and wow, don’t those eyes look beautiful up close? Mike’s still as calm and lackadaisical as ever, completely oblivious of the heart racing just a breath away from him. 

A pistol clatters onto the table. “ Sorry, it’s-- ” Sokol gestures around his waist to show that it’s been digging into his side before sagging against the couch again.

Mike looks worn around the edges, like the paperback he has in his hand. His hair is wind-blown and his boots are streaked with dirt, scarring the marble table and, when he draws his feet onto the couch, marking the leather. But suppose this is what comes with the territory of slogging it out on the streets as a hustler, where home can be in the arms of a stranger or on the side of the road. 

If Sokol were to tell the crew what Portland looks like, he’ll probably end up describing Mike. 

This close, and Mike smells like the streets, of car exhaust and something musty like he’s been lying amongst cardboard scraps. It reminds him of Kaliningrad, the dusty alley leading up to the apartment block and the children hanging around the burn barrel playing Othello with misshapen rocks. It reminds him of a place where the heater doesn’t always turn on and the air perpetually smells like stale cigarette smoke, but it’s still home. 

A pang of something-- guilt, shame or longing in his chest. Is there a word to describe the feeling of missing something even if it’s still here? 

“ Hey. ” 

A hand darts out to jostle Mike’s knee. It’s an excuse as good as any to touch him. “ You sure you-- staying here? ” It’s insecure. Probing. Demanding, for a glimpse of what Mike’s life will be like when he’s no longer here. He tries again. 

“ You not gonna sell this place for drugs, right? ”

[jakewheelr]

@narcoleptixs liked !

⸻ jake proudly clutches his newest find to his chest -- a retro good guy doll in mint condition . ❝ i was thinking of using his head for my sculpture. what do you think ? ❞

[flyingfiinn]

@narcoleptixs​

“Have you ever driven a car really, really fast? I don’t mean speeding, I mean, really, flat-out, pushing it to the limits, when you think, ‘if I crash this now, I will die’? I know it’s a strange thing to say, but--- I love that feeling, of riding that fine line between life and death, I don’t know, there’s nothing else that gives me that same thrill.”

[lenorelost]

@narcoleptixs​ asked:   “we’re  gonna  have  some  laughs.”      /      BEETLEJUICE SENTENCE STARTERS

gaze follows the steady stream of neon and traffic lights blurred by the rain   . . .   one of these days, the whole city is just going to wash away right into lake eerie.   shelly hopes the timing is right, and it puts a fizzle on the next devil’s night.   her cheek pulls from the cold pane to turn in mike’s direction;   while it’s not a laugh, shelly does offer him a smile.   her halloween plans are waterlogged, sure, but she appreciates mike’s company tonight.   “i could use a laugh, mike.   i don’t mind the rain but   . . .   two weeks straight?   think we’re due for a change.”

[daethcrush-aa]

𝖙𝖆𝖌 𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖕 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 3.

dynamics / ships.

[unkindrewind]

                       WHAT  DO  YOU  WISH  YOU  COULD  SAY  ? 

            " i want to be myself, but i can't. "

you have a secret interest or a personality trait that others wouldn't like about you. you may have shown it off once, but it was received badly, and now like hell you're gonna be vulnerable like that again. you dream of the day where someone you like will act this way too and you can finally release this lock in your chest, although that's extremely unlikely. you feel disconnected from others' reality of yourself. it's very uncomfortable.

tagged by: No one, call me 24601 I stole it tagging: @killerxquccn​  /  @stevenharrington​  / @suchbllshit​  /  @ko3ak​​  / @draeven​​  /  @gazedlong​  / @narcoleptixs​  /  @cultons​  /  @dinguscalled​ / @noblecide​  / @notimminent​ / anyone who wants to do this, tag you're it <3

[m0nstrousneeds-a]

                                       𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚊   &   𝚖𝚒𝚔𝚎.   ( @narcoleptixs )

come  sit  by  my  side  &  share  with  me  /  all  the  feelings  inside  &  the  things  you  see  /  about  you  /  i  know  miss  lonely  will  be  here  today  /  waiting  for  me;  now  the  time  is  right,  so  hear  me  say  /    that  from  now  on  /    I'll  stay  about  you.