literature tattoos

And i hope that when it’s 3am and i cross your mind, you feel like you jumped off the highest building and your ribs crack from the fall. And I hope when restlessness is your only companion, you think of me. And as you think of me you realise the beauty of heartbreak, the beauty that I felt for years.
And I hope you fall into piles of regrets and break the spine you never had, and I hope you rummage through your closet looking for pieces of me when someone asks how I’m doing. And I hope you find my first hand written letter to you and you get poisoned with the sweetness and genuineness of the words. And i hope your wounds remain raw long enough for you to realise, to never break another heart, to never betray another love. And I hope that you stare into your reflection in the mirror and you see a tear streaking down your cheek. And I hope that your inflated pride shatters from the weariness of your soul and I hope that the next person that comes to your life, keeps you in your place, unlike me. I hope she doesn’t make the same mistakes that I did.
—  i wish you hell
Those who love you will never leave. Those who steal your happiness and confidence are simply thieves.
And you don’t need them.
—  Always make sure you’re okay, and keep your own heart on the highest shelf.

Darling, do not kiss a boy who has sweet lips but a devil’s tongue, who tells you how good your body looks in a little black dress but who laughs scornfully at your dreams.

Do not trust a boy who looks you straight in the eyes and tells you he wants to fuck you, but the words “I love you” won’t escape his lips until they taste like whiskey and the curtains are drawn.

Do not fall in love with a boy who refuses to hold your hand in busy streets but has no problem undressing you and telling you he wants you because you know, you just know, that he doesn’t want you for the way your eyes light up at the mention of books or how much you love the golden, pinkish hues that come along with a sunset.

Trust me, he’ll break your heart, just like another boy broke mine.

—  n.g // excerpt from a book i’ll never write #6
Taking a Bath (John Wick x Reader)

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own John Wick, or you. I don’t support what he supports and believes in except for you happiness, enjoy.

Pairings: John Wick x fem!Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries and light body touching



Ugh… everything hurt. There wasn’t a spot on his body that didn’t ache or wasn’t bruise or covered in gashes. His arms shook as he pulled off his jacket, a deep scowl on his face as he did so, he didn’t like it when he was like this.


At times, he would think he couldn’t be killed, but when he was shaking like this, when he allowed himself to shake… it made him realize that he wasn’t inhuman. That he could be killed.


You would always tell him that, he weren’t a superhero. He couldn’t stop bullets with his mind..

Once the jacket was off, next came the gun holsters, then the bullet proof vest that had a bullet lodged in there, and finally - his shirt with rubbed against the bruises and the gashes that started to bleed with the movements; a hiss fell from John’s mouth as he felt the pain. He didn’t like the pain, most of the time. But no-one liked pain like this, he could tell you that.



“John.” You spoke once you approached him, your hair was down from it usual bun, he tilted his head to look up at you, a frown on his face - though it dissolved into nothing as he looked down at his black and blue body.


That was an exaggeration, bruises dotted his left side, his right shoulder and there were a couple knife gashes on his abdomen and an imprint of a bullet on his chest, you sigh softly and walked over to him and grabbed his face, bloodied nose, bruised cheek, cut lip.

You didn’t want to imagine what his legs looked like, “How bad is it?” You hum your question as you started to undo his belt, already having something in mind.

“Mhm.” He groan, shaking just slightly, “Seven.”


“How about a bath?” You ask him once you pulled the belt free, putting it down as you held the gun holster, “I’ll take care of this and get the bandages.

“Baths are filthy.” He mumbled, but he followed after you as you walked inside the bathroom and started to run a bath for him, he held onto the sink while you did that, his shoulders shaking, his head bowed so his hair covered the side of his face.


More bruises on his back, another gash, it was a horrible sight.

You sighed and got a wash cloth from the towel closet, got it wet and started to rub away the blood and the grime from his back, under his tattoos. You never liked them, a half insult to what you believed and he said he might get them removed…

 John just stood there to let you clean the dirt away, and you were sure you heard John sigh in relief, glad he had you to take care of him.


And when he turned around to stare down at your beautiful eyes, he had the subtle hints of a smile on his face, his smile always made you feel warm inside. Even though his smiles were rare, they meant the world to you.


Once you had finished with gently cleaning his chest, you went for his face and wiped away to blood. Dark eyes locked on you as he stared with a hunger in his eyes that you would not sate until he was feeling better.

But you did kiss him softly, tell him you loved him despite his choice of job and the constant fear he wouldn’t come back to you.

“Join me.” He whispered, hand traveling down your neck and to your breasts, lightly groping them - you shook you head and slowly removed his hands, “Your bath is ready.”


“(Y/N),” He whispered softly, but obeyed and removed his pants and underwear before sliding in the warm water and letting out a soft hiss, looking like he wanted to lunge out and run off. But he stayed and looked up at you with near expecting eyes.

You chuckle and stroke your hand through his hair, a content look on his face as you did so, then you left the bathroom to clean up his clothing.


He watched you leave, sinking lower into the water as he did so, a light frown playing on his face.

He loved you so much… and he didn’t want you to ever leave him. And that was why he intended on making you his wife one day.

And she had never been one for adventure, but that night she ran across narrow bridges that crossed rivers and flew down steep tunnels between dams. The moon was there to keep her company and it showed her the way of the ravenous tides, as well as illuminated the blinking city at her feet.

Her lips were red and swollen from kissing the boy with the calloused hands and wanderlust eyes and she was laughing harder than she had in ages.

She was free.
—  n.g // excerpt from a book i’ll never write #20

If you love her, why don’t you fight for her man?” my best friend asked.

I let out a humorless laugh and took a long drag of the cigarette in my hand.
“What’s the point?”

The smoke surrounded me like a cloud and the nicotine calmed my shaking fingers.

“I already fucking lost her.

—  n.g. // excerpt from a book i’ll never write #10

My best friend was sitting on my bed, painting her nails a soft pastel blue. “What happened to you guys? You were inseparable and now, now its like you barely even know each other.”

I pursed my lips and looked down at my own chipping burgundy nail polish.
“I made a mistake, and I told him; it was stupid of me to do so. All it did was leave me with a broken heart and shattered dreams.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

“I fell in love with him.”

—  n.g. // excerpt from a book i’ll never write #12

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011) by David Fincher

Book title: En man utan land (A Man Without a Country in English), a 2005 essay collection by Kurt Vonnegut
The Year of Magical Thinking (2005) by Joan Didion
Vindens skugga (The Shadow of the Wind in English) by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, published in 2001