#littera scripta manet

[ofpsalms]

Young Maria and Ferro

[writers-potion]

Soft-Feeling Latin Words & Phrases

Another list of Latin phrases, this time with soft/warm meanings. It is 2:39am as I make this list.

a te pro te: from thee for thee

ab imo pectore: from the bottom of the heart

volat hora per orbem: time files through the world

coelum versus: heavenward

concubia nocte: at dead of night

crepusculum: twilight or dusk

crescens luna: a cresent moon

cum corde: with the heart

labores solis: an eclipse of the sun

in horam viviere: to live for the moment

in rerum natura: in the nature of things

in tuto esse: in a safe place

ingens aequor: the vast ocean

inter vivos: among the living

januae mentis: inlets of knowledge

jenuis clausis: in secret, with closed doors

littera scripta manet: the written letter remains

lux mundi: light of the world

lux vitae: light of life

meo voto: by my wish

mox nox: soon night

multis cum lacrimis: with many tears

ningit: it is snowing

occidui temporis umbra: a shadow at sunset

opinio vana: an illusion

osculum pacis: kiss of peace

papilio: butterfly

par pari refero: tit for tat

per vian dolorosam: the way of sorrows

philtrum: a love potion

pluvia: rain

res rustica: a rural affair

ros marinus: rosemary

semel et semper: once and always

silva: wood or forest

sinus urbis: heart of the city

As always, happy writing!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

Reference: Latin for the Illiterati: a modern guide to an ancient language by Jon R. Stone, second edition 2009.

[treeofliferpg]

Ideas de rol: Hechizos

Recordamos que el siguiente texto no ha sido redactado por el staff de ToL, solo lo hemos traducido para que pueda llegar a más personas. La autoría pertenece a @goodbyedearfriends. Su tumblr está desactivado, pero podéis leer el post original en nuestro tumblr bajo la etiqueta "idioma original".

ab intra - desde dentro

ab origine - de la fuente

absit iniuria - “que el insulto esté ausente”

absit invidia - “que la envidia esté ausente”

absit omen - “que el presagio esté ausente”

ab uno disce omnes - de uno, aprenden todos

abyssus abyssum invocat - el abismo llama al abismo

a capite ad calcem - de pies a cabeza

acta non verba - acciones, no palabras

ad altiora tendo - “Me esfuerzo por cosas más altas”

ad astra - a las estrellas

ad fontes - a las fuentes

ad meliora - hacia mejores cosas

ad oculos - a los ojos

ad undas - a las olas

ad victoriam - a la victoria

adsum - Estoy aquí

a fortiori - desde la fuerza/fortaleza

a mari usque ad mare - de mar a mar

audeamus - atrevamonos

audentes fortuna iuvat - la fortuna favorece a los valientes

audi, vide, tace - escuchar, ver, callar

beatae memoriae - una memoria bendita

bona fide - de buena fe

bono malum superate - vence al mal con el bien

capax infiniti - sosteniendo el infinito

carpe diem - aprovecha el día

carpe noctem - aprovecha la noche

cave - cuidado

ceteris paribus - todas las cosas son iguales

circa - alrededor

citius, altius, fortius - más rápido, más alto, más fuerte

clavis aurea - llave dorada

cogito ergo sum - Pienso, luego existo

compos mentis - en control de la mente

concilio et labore - con sabiduría y esfuerzo

concordia cum veritate - en armonía con la verdad

concordia salus - bienestar a través de la armonía

coniunctis viribus - con fuerza conectada

consummatum est - estar/está completo

corruptus in extremis - corrupto al extremo

crescit eundo - crece a medida que avanza

de novo - de/desde lo nuevo

de profundis - de/desde lo profundo/profundidades

dies irae - días de ira

dona nobis pacem - danos paz

ego te provoco - te desafío

esse est percipi - ser en lugar de parecer

esse quam videri - ser es ser percibido

esto quod es - ser lo que eres

ex animo - desde el alma

ex luna scientia - de la luna, conocimiento

ex scientia tridens - del conocimiento, poder

ex silentio - de/desde el silencio

ex undis - de/desde las olas del mar

experientia docet - la experiencia enseña

fac et spera - hazlo y espera

fac fortia et patere - haz un acto valiente y aguanta

faciam quodlibet quod necesse est - haz lo que sea necesario

faciam ut mei memineris - Te haré recordar

facta, non verba - hechos no palabras

fortis et liber - fuerte y libre

fortis in arduis - fuerte en las dificultades

gloriosus et liber - glorioso y libre

hic abundant leones - aquí abundan los leones

hic et nunc - aquí y ahora

hic sunt dracones - aquí hay dragones

hinc illae lacrimae - por eso las lágrimas

hinc itur ad astra - desde aquí el camino conduce a las estrellas

igni ferroque - con fuego y hierro

in memoriam - en la memoria

in nocte consilium - el consejo llega de la noche a la mañana

libra - balance

littera scripta manet - las palabras escritas perduran

locus standi - derecho a estar en pie

luceo non uro - Brilla, no te quemes

luctor et emergo - lucho y emerjo

mare liberum - mar libre

memento vivere - recuerda vivir

more ferarum - como bestias

natura non contristatur - la naturaleza no se entristece

nec spe, nec metu - sin esperanza, sin miedo

noli me tangere - no me toques

ophidia in herba - una serpiente en la hierba

pro se - por uno mismo

propria manu - por la propia mano

quaere - buscar

quod abundat non obstat - lo que es abundante no obstaculiza

resurgam - me levantaré

semper ad meliora - siempre hacia cosas mejores

semper anticus - siempre adelante

semper apertus - siempre abierto

semper fortis - siempre valiente

semper liber - siempre libre

stet - dejaló descansar

tuebor - protegeré

vera causa - causa justa/verdadera

[sachinmshah]

Littera Scripta Manet. Black letter layers. Flat brush and acrylic. . . #calligraphymasters #blackletter #handlettering (at Mumbai, Maharashtra) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoXPSVPylDE/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ur-local-wizard]

LITTERA SCRIPTA MANET (the written letter remains)

✧ = MDNI ♡ = SFW ☆ Ink & Ivy(♡) → Mattheo Riddle ☆ Eye of the Storm(♡) → Mattheo Riddle → pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 ☆ A Lucky Christmas(♡) → Mattheo Riddle, Theo Nott

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

[leejungchans]

latin ; “the written letter lasts”

a series of short drabbles inspired by different words

appearances by: stray kids, ateez, seventeen (other groups may be added in the future!!)

a/n: this series is inspired by other creators who have done the same/a similar concept!! some words here have most definitely been covered by other writers, but all these drabbles are my own interpretation. if there are any similarities, they are purely coincidental and i hope you can understand 💕 if you enjoy these kinds of fics, you should definitely check out the lover’s dictionary by @got-svt and @honeyshua’s upcoming beautiful words, just to name a few!! 💕

key

[f] = fluff ; [a] = angst ; [h] = humour

♡ = sol’s favourites

➛ petrichor

(n.) the pleasant, earthy smell after rain

lee minho (skz) x gn!reader ; [f]

➛ brontide ♡

(n.) the low rumble of distant thunder

joshua hong (svt) x gn!reader ; [f]

➛ cafuné

(n.) the act of running your fingers through your lover’s hair

joshua hong (svt) x gn!reader ; [f]

➛ baisemain

(n.) a kiss on the hand

kim mingyu (svt) x gn!reader ; [f]

➛ gumusservi ♡

(n.) moonlight shining on water

lee chan (svt) x gn!reader ; [f] [a]

➛ basorexia [coming soon]

(n.) the overwhelming desire to kiss

seo changbin (skz) x gn!reader ; [f]

➛ clinomania

(n.) the excessive desire to stay in bed

➛ tarantism

(n.) overcoming melancholy by dancing; the uncontrollable urge to dance

➛ forelsket

(n.) the euphoria you experience when you first fall in love

➛ catharsis

(n.) the purging or release of emotional tensions; especially through kinds of music or art

➛ apricity

(n.) the warmth of the sun in winter

➛ reverie

(n.) the state of being pleasantly lost in one’s thoughts; a daydream

➛ hiraeth

(n.) homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was

[peonymoss]

on the Twittter: the power of a letter

Thread part 1: Dad shares the story of the impact his 11 year old daughter’s letter to the mail carrier

There’s more, and it gets better and better and better.

And then....

RTWT

[sharpestshot]

Klosed starter for @bloodofvirtue​

Javíer moves his hair from his face, panting softly in his steps as he and his mother circle each other like vultures. The young knight fixes his posture alongside his stance, twirling his sword in his hand.

“There’s still a chance for you to resign, mother.” He says with a smug little grin. “As for me...I could do this all day.” 

[wegotstory]

Latin Phrases Worth Knowing

ad astra per aspera - to the stars through difficulties

alis volat propriis - he flies by his own wings

aut insanity homo, aut versus facit - the fellow is either mad or he is composing verses

amantium irae amoris intergratio est - the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love

ars longa, vita brevis - art is long, life is short

dum spiro aperitif - while I breathe, I hope

ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem - with the sword, she seeks peace under liberty

exigo a me non ut optimus par sim sed ut malis melior - I require myself not to be equal to the best, but to be better than the bad

experiential docet - experience teaches

helluo librorum - a glutton for books (bookworm)

in libras libertas - in books, freedom

littera scripta manet - the written letter lasts

mens regnum bona possidet - an honest heart is a kingdom in itself

mirabile dictu - wonderful to say

nullus est liber tam malus ut non aliqua parte prosit - there is no book so bad that it is not profitable in some part

omnia iam fient quae posse negabam - everything which I used to say could not happen, will happen now

poeta nascitur, non fit - the poet is born, not made

qui dedit benificium taceat; narrat qui accepit - let him who has done good deed be silent; let him who has received it tell it

saepe ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit - often, it is not advantageous to know what will be

sedit qui timuit ne non succederet - he who feared he would not succeed sat still

si vis pacem, para bellum - if you want peace, prepare for war

struit insidias lacrimis cum feminia plorat - when a woman weeps, she is setting traps with her tears

sub rosa - under the rose

trahimir omnes laudis studio - we are led on by our eagerness of praise

Ruben latericium invenit, marmoream reliquit - he found the city a city of bricks, he left it a city of marble

ut incepit fidelis sic permanent - as loyal as she began, so she remains

[ofpsalms]

In my lore linear time does not exist in the afterlife ergo it is inconceivable to the human brain & thus people forget everything they saw on the other side if they come back to life, aside from images or words the divine want them to see.

[patanahibhay]

ad astra per aspera to the stars through difficulties

alis volat propriis - he flies by his own wings

amantium irae amoris integratio est - the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love

ars longa, vita brevis - art is long, life is short

aut insanity homo, aut versus facit - the fellow is either mad or he is composing verses

dum spiro spero - while I breathe, I hope

. ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem - with the sword, she seeks peace under liberty

exigo a me non ut optimus par sim sed ut malis melior - I require myself not to be equal to the best, but to be better than the bad experiential docet - experience teaches .

helluo librorum - a glutton for books (bookworm)

in libras libertas - in books, freedom littera scripta manet - the written letter lasts

mens regnum bona possidet - an honest heart is a kingdom in itself

mirabile dictu - wonderful to say

nullus est liber tam malus ut non aliqua parte prosit - there is no book so bad that it is not profitable in some part

omnia iam fient quae posse negabam - everything which I used to say could not happen, will happen now

poeta nascitur, non fit - the poet is born, not made

qui dedit benificium taceat; narrat qui accepit - let him who has done a good deed be silent; let him who has received it tell it

saepe ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit - often, it is not advantageous to know what will be

sedit qui timuit ne non succederet - he who feared he would not succeed sat still

si vis pacem, para bellum - if you want peace, prepare for war

struit insidias lacrimis cum feminia plorat - when a woman weeps, she is setting traps with her tears .

sub rosa - under the rose

Trahimir omnes laudis studio - we are led on by our eagerness for praise

urbem latericium invenit, marmoream reliquit - he found the city a city of bricks; he left it a city of marble

ut incepit fidelis sic permanet - as loyal as she began, so she remains

[thoughtsofarookiewriter]

Latin phrases:

ad astra per aspera - to the stars through difficulties.

alis volat propriis - he flies by his own wings.

ars longa, vita brevis - art is long, life is short.

aut insanity homo, aut versus facit - the fellow is either mad or he is composing verses.

dum spiro spero - while I breathe, I hope.

exigo a me non ut optimus par sim sed ut malis melior - I require myself not to be equal to the best, but to be better than the bad.

experiential docet - experience teaches

helluo librorum - a glutton for books (bookworm)

littera scripta manet - the written letter lasts.

nullus est liber tam malus ut non aliqua parte prosit - there is no book so bad that it is not profitable in some part.

qui dedit benificium taceat; narrat qui accepit - let him who has done a good deed be silent; let him who has received it tell it

saepe ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit - often, it is not advantageous to know what will be

sedit qui timuit ne non succederet - he who feared he would not succeed sat still

[wedarkacademia]

Beautiful Latin phrases ~ part 1

ad astra per aspera - to the stars through difficulties 

alis volat propriis - he flies by his own wings 

amantium irae amoris integratio est - the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love 

ars longa, vita brevis - art is long, life is short 

aut insanity homo, aut versus facit - the fellow is either mad or he is composing     verses 

dum spiro spero - while I breathe, I hope 

ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem - with the sword, she seeks peace under liberty 

exigo a me non ut optimus par sim sed ut malis melior - I require myself not to be equal to the best, but to be better than the bad

experiential docet - experience teaches 

helluo librorum - a glutton for books (bookworm) 

in libras libertas - in books, freedom 

littera scripta manet - the written letter lasts 

mens regnum bona possidet - an honest heart is a kingdom in itself 

mirabile dictu - wonderful to say 

nullus est liber tam malus ut non aliqua parte prosit - there is no book so bad that it is not profitable in some part 

[ta0ken]

LITTERA SCRIPTA MANET (the written letter lasts)

❝𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮❞ — atticus. 

have you ever felt what it was like to dream? to even vividly remember the dream? how does it feel; does it feel nice? you wonder and wonder, but the dreams are always there (only with a few changes). you're only reliving a dream.

                                                         in books, freedom →

TAPPING RESOUNDED THROUGHOUT THE ROOM, yet there's a silence that fills the room you sat in as well. It's noisy, yet it's not. It's quiet, yet it's not. It's contradictory, in your opinion, as you leaned onto your chin, resting it on your fist. You hummed, unsure of what would happen. A small huff left your lips, blowing out strands from your hair, continuously bothering you from your work (though, you weren't really working).

Your pen scattered dots all around your lined paper, yet nothing was written on it. "This isn't some connect the dots game..." you softly sighed to yourself, raising a brow at the paper, disappointed and obviously unamused.

Glancing out the window, you stared, watching the sun rays light up your dim-lit room. You closed your eyes, reminiscing the times you were in high school (were you?), not really having any friends, only focusing on smarts and academics, though you weren't weak.

Too bad you had gotten into too many fights that caused your school record to drop at the lowest of low.

The dreams you've had were weird. You, at first, thought that you had grown older, done different things, lived a different life, but all of those were dreams; lucid, but merely dreams (but they only occurred two times, so, perhaps they don't count). Your eyes scanned the dots once more, still unimpressed with what you've gotten. Head drooping down, you let out another sigh, one full of frustration and exhaustion - you wouldn't be able to write a poem at any rate, would you?

"Oh, how this wounds me," you said to yourself. "Woe is me, woe is me... I guess."

Leaning back in your seat, you stared at your ceiling, blinking. The ceiling remained the same, nothing had changed. Maybe, I can just write about dreams or something... Gah! I hate this... You sulked and sulked and sulked, but nothing would change the fact that you couldn't write anything—

Ah. Now you know why. Someone had been murdered, you remembered. Not someone you knew, but for some reason, you felt like you recognized the person who had murdered the random nobody. Still, you weren't sure, and it didn't matter.

"...Weird," you muttered, balancing a pen between your lips and nose. "Really weird."

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh, slowly sinking into your seat without a care. You felt tired, and you didn’t want to do any more work, though you weren’t doing any work anyway.

“Oi, [Name]!”

Your eyes open, and you blink. Slowly taking the pen between your lips and nose, you stare at the ceiling that shouldn’t have changed, yet it did. You slowly lower your head, still blinking, and looked at the person in front of you that had long hair, yellow eyes, and sharp teeth (though, that was his original appearance; the one you weren’t used to seeing).

”…Baji,” you acknowledge, expression forming into one of boredom. “What do you need, more tutor lessons?”

He gives you a scowl, before grinning, jutting his thumb behind him, exclaiming, “Nah, I wanted to hang out with ya. Me, you, and the others!”

A grim expression replaces your bored one, and you wave your hand in the air, other hand in your pocket. Leaning back into your seat, you twirl the pen in your hands, and you simply tell him, “No.” You didn’t want to hang out; there was no need to. “We’re not friends, Baji; I’m only your tutor, or whatever.” You ignore the feeling that this wasn’t a dream (but you wished it was).

The boy lets out a breath, crossing his arms. “Man… You’re a guy, ya know that?”

”I… I’d hope I’m a guy—“

”That’s not what I meant!” he barks. He turns his head, a frown appearing on his face. Upon your expression, he frowns even more. “Listen, I’m only asking you anyway because of you helping me out with school and shit.”

Your hand twitches and your brow furrows, a crease forming. This scene feels like it’s repeating, going on and on and on and on—why? You didn’t realize you were staring at him, until he waves a hand in your face, obviously impatient. “…Uh,” you blink, “sorry—No, I don’t… want to go.”

A small huff.

You only shrug in response, slowly getting up from your seat. You glance down at the floor, noticing your bag beside the leg of the chair. Why? You stare at it with narrowed eyes, distressed, but you hid it; the boy before you didn’t need to know what was happening, anyway. Grabbing your bag, you slung it across your shoulder, sparing Baji a glance. “…Why are you still here?” you ask, raising a brow, “Don’t you have your gang to go to?”

“Anyway, I’m going home. Bye,” you mutter, shuffling past the long-haired boy.

✎______

“You’re very selfish, Baji.”

”Huh? And you’re acting like you’re not?”

You rest your chin on your hand, lips in a thin line. You were with Baji and Chifuyu, who was technically his underclassmen, but he got held back a lot of times. You cock your head to the side, slowly gazing over towards the blonde, “How d’you manage to hang out with him? He’s a brute.”

”The hell did you say?!” Baji’s hand slams down onto the table booth you all sat at, glaring at you. “I’m no brute!”

You give him a blank stare. “…I can assume that your ma said you were a ‘handsome fellow’ or somethin’?”

Chifuyu coughs at that, hiding his snort. “C’mon, [Name], do you really think a guy like him is handsome?” He has a grin on his face, leaning back into his own seat, amused by the bickering (or maybe exhausted, who knows?).

You raise a brow, glancing over at Baji, who was fuming. Rubbing your chin, you hum in thought. “He’s pretty…” you say, trailing off, ignoring the suspicious look from Chifuyu and the arrogant look from Baji, and continued, “…for a girl.”

”Wh- I’M NOT A GIRL!”

”PFFFT—“

You grin, amused. Leaning back into your seat, you look back up to the ceiling, the grin dropping slowly. As fun as it was, can this dream end? Your hand raised up towards your face, pinching it as hard as you could, but it only left a mark.

It left a mark.

You lower your head once more, eyes staring at the wooden table that seemed too polished for its own good, the light showing your reflection. You were back in your 15-year-old body, still in middle school, though it made no sense. Shifting, your eyes darted towards the other two, one older, one younger, and they seemed the same from middle school; laughing, smiling, joking around.

Your hand clenches, gripping your uniform pants.

”…Am I dreaming?” you whisper to yourself, “Is this nothing but a mere illusion, to hinder my dob- doubts—? Fuck.”

“Did you stumble over your words again, [Name]?” Baji teases, leaning over towards you.

Your face flushes red, and you narrow your eyes at him. “No,” you say indignantly, “I did nuh- not. I did, not.”

”But, you did, just now,” Chifuyu points out. “Right, Baji-san? He just stumbled over his words?”

”…I said—“

”No, yeah, he did.”

”I SAID I FUCKING DIDN’T—“

✎______ [Name] occasionally stumbles over his words, despite knowing so many. And he ends up getting mad over it.

You rest your head on the table, grumbling profanities. Despite being smart, despite all of this, you were still foul-mouthed, and you were still a ‘child.’ You muffle out a small, “One day, I’ll kill the both of you, just you wait.”

Baji lets out a snort, patting your back harshly, “Sure you will.”

“I will.”

Chifuyu nods sarcastically, finished with his noodles. “Yes, of course, you will.”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “Well, fuck you guys, too.” You glance over at the pair, before you looked away, not wanting to deal with them. But, you continued to pinch your arm, not caring about the pain, for you just wanted to go back to your regular life.

"Hey."

I want to go back. Let me be a poet, once more, you sigh wistfully, leaning onto your fist, zoning out. I need to be a poet, once more; I graduated, did I not? I did, I did, so then why, why can't I wake up?

"[Name]."

This is all a dream.

"[Name], wake up!"

You blink, eyes wide. Turning your head towards the pair, you stare for a few seconds, before blinking once more. "...Sorry, what?" you say with a smile, ignoring the aching pain in your arm now, "Did you need something? Or were you guys planning on bothering me again."

Chifuyu narrows his eyes at you, suspicious of how you were acting. "...No, you were just pinching your arm really hard and not saying anything about it," he remarks, crossing his arms. "Are you some sort of masochist?"

Baji raises a brow, checking you out as he leans forward, "...I wouldn't put it past him to be a masochist. He gives off that sort of vibe, you know?"

"Oi, what's that s'posed to mean?" you scowl, pushing yourself away from the two. "I'm no fuck—I'm not a masochist." Despite you saying all of that, Baji only laughs, hand ruffling your hair.

"...I hate you all."

"Sure you do."

✎______

You weren't sure if you had this feeling that you were going to insane or if you were lucid dreaming (it was probably both), but it was slowly getting to you. Each step felt like it was pulling you towards the ground, keeping you there from moving on, from trying to back to the present (or was it future?). But was it even the present if you're you now?

It didn't occur to you, that you were back in the past. Every dream, every time you close your eyes, every time you open your eyes, there's a new view.

But there were no views this time, as you stared, blankly wandering around on your own. Baji left to do his own thing, as did Chifuyu. You weren't sure what they were doing, but you didn't want to get involved with gang fights anyway.

Instead, you chose to go back to the store nearby your old apartment (well, technically, your current one, huh?). You haven't met the rest of the Toman members except for the 'Founding Members', but even then, you didn't want to join. They weren't your friends (well, in the past, you didn't consider them friends, but they probably considered you a friend), and you didn't want to be their friend.

Well, maybe you did.

It gets lonely, anyway. Having to repeat life over and over again, without knowing who's the cause (once you find out who's causing it, though...).

You look at the cashier, hands in your pockets as you slump over, eyes drooping due to exhaustion. You could feel yourself beginning to tire throughout the day, yet it was only the afternoon still, almost evening.

"Can I have one pack of cigarettes?"

✎______

You lean back against the wall, looking off into the distance, sighing. You had the pack of cigarettes in your hand, glancing around the area, putting a cancer stick in your mouth, letting it hang off from between your lips. Tilting your head, you let out a huff. You were only 15-years-old, yet you were originally 26-years-old at the start (or was it at the original? You weren't sure, too many things ran through your head, really).

Drip.

Ignoring the dripping sounds that slowly grew into pitter-patter, you didn't bother to light the cigarette, simply satisfied with the feeling of it on your lips. A small sigh was drawn out, your eyes gazing at the droplets of rain that splattered on the cement, sometimes getting onto your boots.

Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip—

Rubbing the back of your head, you glanced away, pushing yourself away from the wall. You begin to walk, not caring about the rain that made you damp, your hair flattening on your head. Ignoring it, you clench and unclench your fists, trying to still wake yourself up from this dream that seemed all too real (you wish you could wake up, but you never will).

You look up at the rain, humming, sometimes squinting due to the droplets hitting you straight in the eye. Your face twitches, but you shrug your shoulders.

"Rain's a bad sign, ain't it? Especially if it's heavy like this..." you say to yourself, walking on the sidewalk. "August 3rd... Huh. The day of the festival... Hm."

You close your eyes, shrugging once again.

Looking up at the rain once more, you say to yourself quietly, voice barely near a whisper, "...Is this a dream that I can wake up from, or is this a dream that I'm stuck in forever? Hm... I wonder..." you look back towards the road, "...if the world just hates me after all."

A small laugh left your lips.

"Yeah. The world hates me, for sure."

[zeph-can-do-it]

My Favorite Latin Phrases

A few days ago, I got introduced to Latin. I mean, the language in itself. And I have to say...I Am Freaking In Love With This Beauty. 

The first thing that came up when I searched for it were some beautiful Latin phrases. I just couldn’t help my mouth falling open in awe as I read through list after list. 

Here are some of the phrases, in case you wanted to know because I couldn’t help just love this thing and I know you’ll love it too: 

ad astra per aspera

to the stars through difficulties (this was the very first phrase and I gasped)

alis volat propriis

he flies by his own wings 

amantium irae amoris integratio est

the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love

ars longa, vita brevis

art is long, life is short

aut insanity homo, aut versus facit

the fellow is either mad or he is composing verses (I mean WHAT?!)

dum spiro spero

while I breathe, I hope (the rhythm of this phrase.)

ut incepit fidelis sic permanet

as loyal as she began, so she remains 

urbem latericium invenit, marmoream reliquit

he found the city a city of bricks; he left it a city of marble (Just WOW. This just reminded me of a verse in Urdu poetry, though the verse is totally opposite of this phrase but idk why it came to mind at the moment.)

ense petit placidamsub libertate quietem

with the sword, she seeks peace under liberty (my absolute fav! if I ever write a book, gonna add this one)

exigo a me non ut optimus par simsed ut malis melior

I require myself not to be equal to the best, but to be better than the bad

trahimir omnes laudis studio

we are led on by our eagerness for praise

sub rosa

under the rose 

experiential docet

experience teaches

sedit qui timuit ne non succederet

he who feared he would not succeed sat still

si vis pacem, para bellum

if you want peace, prepare for war

in libras libertas

in books, freedom

omnia iam fient quae posse negabam

everything which I used to say could not happen, will happen now (i can’t explain this, but my blood started boiling after reading this one.)

mens regnum bona possidet

an honest heart is a kingdom in itself

struit insidias lacrimis cum feminia plorat

when a woman weeps, she is setting traps with her tears (never found a more relatable phrase)

saepe ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit

often, it is not advantageous to know what will be

helluo librorum

a glutton for books (bookworm) (now this sounds ICONIC and you can’t change my mind)

mirabile dictu

wonderful to say

poeta nascitur, non fit

the poet is born, not made (do you have to say something more melancholic than this?)

littera scripta manet

the written letter lasts

nullus est liber tam malus ut non aliqua parte prosit

there is no book so bad that it is not profitable in some part

qui dedit beneficium taceat; narrat qui accepit

let him who has done a good deed be silent; let him who has received it tell it

P.S.: Please add to this list, I’ll love to know more of such phrases and the history behind them. 

Also, if you have amazing phrases in your language then share them too. I’d love to add them to my list!

[fangirlovestuff]

littera scripta manet - steve rogers x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! first of all, this is based on a moodboard by the amazing @cloudystevie​, which inspired this whole fic, thank you!! the picture above is how i imagined steve in this one, but you can imagine him however you want:) also, there’s a list of meanings of the flowers i mention at the end because i’m a sucker for the language of flowers (the flowers are in bold in the fic). i love the dark academia aesthetic and i hope i did it justice:) enjoy!!<3

title means ‘the written letter remains’

summary: unlike you, steve doesn’t have a problem admitting to himself he has feelings for his best friend. that’s what makes it so painful when it seems like you don’t.

word count: 7k (oops?)

warnings / tags: friends to lovers, Pining™ , angst with a happy ending, as slow burn as a one shot can be, an obnoxious amount of clichés but i’m not sorry, no plot just vibes (i mean there’s like,,, some plot i guess), the songs/quotes i used in this aren’t mine!!!

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You watched as the morning mist slowly faded, the sun showing it away. You watched as the curtains fluttered against the touch of a delicate wind. You watched as the sparks of dawn came to life under the sky's watchful eye. You watched the tree beneath your window in the glory of its blossom.

You turned your body in the other direction, the one facing not the east window but the bed. And there, beside you, you watched as he stirred hazily, his body still clad in yesterday's clothes, huffing out a quiet breath before his eyelashes fluttered open to reveal the pair of familiar blue eyes.

You watched, and his eyes told you the most amazing story – his look was disoriented, then bewildered, and then, well, the most gorgeous smile stretched onto his features, and it told the rest – love, and hope, and home.

That story is the one I will tell you today.

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The first day of school was always a straining one. All the way from elementary school to high school, it was a constant in your life.

There was, however, one more constant. Your best friend.

Steve Rogers was truly the most wonderful of boys.

You two met when you were very young, your mothers getting along well, so you had no choice but to do so as well. And you did get along, splendidly. You became fast friends, not stopping even when his other friends were telling him about 'girl germs' or when your other friends were constantly asking if you wanted him to be your boyfriend, or if he was. What you and Steve had transcended it, in a way.

You grew together, and you watched as Steve Rogers became the most wonderful of men. He was your best friend, and you loved him with your whole heart. Platonically, of course.

You smiled at him fondly as the both of you stepped into your new college, in through the big iron gates. As far as you looked there was grass, trees, flowers. The big cobblestone building stood tall in the distance, and if you listened carefully, you could hear the chatter of students above the sound of the wind that was gently ruffling your uniform skirt.  

"Excited?" Steve asked, smiling back at you.

"Nervous," you let out a quiet laugh.

"You shouldn't be," he answered, "look at this place!" he gestured around, "you fit right in here with all the-" he cut himself off, closing his mouth before continuing, "you fit right in!"

"Yeah, maybe. This place is just… dreamy," you smiled. "But that doesn't stop me from being nervous."

"Well, you have no reason to be," he took your hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

You hoped he was right. You never liked being far away from home, but this school was truly the school of your dreams, and well, with Steve by your side… you could never be that far away from home.

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Adjusting was… an experience, certainly. This school was like nothing you've known before, the uniform seemed a bit excessive, the school halls were so incredibly long, and the grounds so vast you could barely see the outside. And yet, it felt like something about this place was magical. Like it accepted you right in, it wanted you to be there. The library was huge, and you've already spent countless hours digging away for course related materials and, well, less course related materials. The vast grounds meant you could walk out every day in a different direction, if you wanted to, and find a new hidden treasure.

You shared your thoughts with Steve when you discovered one of these treasures together. It was fairly early evening, you two had just gotten out of class and were walking off the long day you've had, and you suddenly came across some high rose bushes. Steve tried to see what was on the other side of them, but it was too tall even for him, so you circled around and found a small, rusty gate. You went through it to discover a small fountain, with a marble statue of a mermaid in the center.

You gasped in delight, unable to contain yourself from running to kneel on the grass next to it, looking into the water curiously. Dipping your hand in tentatively, you shivered at the touch of the chilly water, and immediately took out your hand, massaging it in your other one to warm it up.

Steve laughed as he finally caught up with you, not running but walking calmly. He dipped his hand in the water as well, before raising his brow mischievously. Before you could ask him what's going on, he took his hand out of the water and sprayed the cold droplets of water right on your face.

"Steven Grant Rogers!" you said, shocked, "You did not just do that," you glared at him.

"You know what, you're right," he began shuffling away, "I didn't," he stood up with a cheeky smile as you continued to glare at him, "It was a happy accident."

"Oh I'll show you happy accident!" you couldn't contain your laughter anymore as you dipped your hand in the water again, getting up to chase him around the little garden. He managed to evade you for a bit, and then you finally caught up to him, placing your cold hand right on the back of his neck. He turned around, making him lose his balance and fall down onto the grass, which in turn made you topple over him, stopping your fall with your hands just when you were about to fall onto his chest.

"Alright, I surrender!" he lifted his hands up.

"Good," you smirked.

There was a moment where you just stared into each other's eyes, each sparkling with a smile. It was broken when Steve asked, "Well, can I, uh, get up now?"

You noticed you ended up straddling his hips, which you then fumbled to undo, standing back up hastily. You dusted your skirt a little awkwardly, avoiding Steve's eyes as he got up too. You didn't even know why you were feeling so awkward. You've had plenty of play fights with Steve, there was no reason for this one to be different.

But Steve just extended his arm to you, like he did on the first day you were here. You took it, and just like that, you were fine again.

"Do you know, Stevie, I think there's something magical about this school," you told him as you were walking.

"Really? Why do you think that?"

"Well, the library's huge a-"

Steve burst into laughter, and once it died down a little, he said, "I'm sorry, it's just so… like you to say a big room full of books is magical. It's true, don't get me wrong," he said before you could get annoyed, "but I feel like no one but you would have vocalized that truth."

"Well then, lucky I'm here," you smiled.

"Yeah," he said softly, "very lucky."

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About a month later it turned out the school holds a ball twice a year, at the start of winter and at the end of spring, right before the school year ends. At first you were a little shocked, but you quickly warmed up to the idea, given that it was very much on brand with everything else in the school.

You did obviously make more friends than just Steve, so you and your friends went to get dresses together. Roaming between the big expansive stores was fun, but after a while you all realized it wasn't very affordable, and not really your style. You wandered into a small, secluded second hand shop, where you found the perfect dress – fancy but not overly glamorous, a color that suited you beautifully, and not too bad of a price. It made you feel like a princess, the long skirts shuffling gently behind you as you stepped out of the fitting room to show it to your friends, who were just in love with it as you were and told you to buy it right away.

That night you went home with a dress in your hand and a smile in your heart.

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As the school year progressed, you started picking up and drying different flowers you found on the grounds, keeping them between pages of your notebooks. A bit of a messy hobby at times, but it made you happy.

You were just writing a letter to your family, trying to figure out if and which flower you should attach to it, when you heard a knock on your dorm door.

"Just a second!" you called out before shutting the ink box, putting down the dip pen before getting up and opening your door. There, you found a flustered Steve, smiling at you with a few honeysuckle flowers in his hand.

"I, uh, brought these for you," he said timidly, "I know you collect flowers and I don't think you have some of these yet."

"I don't!" you smiled and took them from Steve's hand, "thank you!"

You ushered him in before putting the honeysuckles on your desk. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," he shrugged. He saw the letter and pen on your desk. "Oh, am I interrupting you? I'm sorry, I could come back later if y-"

"It's alright Stevie," you chuckled, "I was just writing home. Anything you'd want me to tell my family for you?"

"Ummm… hi?" he smiled bashfully and you both laughed.

"Well, that's just too long! I don't have any more place on the page for such eloquent greetings!" you teased.

"Alright, then no, I don't have anything to say to them. I wrote my family a few days ago already, so if you wanted to say anything to them, you'll just have to wait till next time."

"Anyways," you smiled, "did you need anything?"

"Not really," he shook his head, "I just, well, I don't really have a person to go with to, you know, the ball thing, so i-"

"So you want me to set you up?" you giggled. "Is it Ella? Or is it Kathrine?"

"No, let me finish," he half heartedly grumbled. "I was thinking, I wanted to ask you to come with me," he smiled timidly, averting his gaze. After you didn't say anything, he continued, "I mean, I didn't think you had anyone to go with either, and since we've been friends since forever, I thought-"

"No, yeah, that's a great idea!" you spoke up quickly, "Sorry, I just spaced for a moment, I think that'd be great, since no one really asked me and stuff," you shrugged and smiled.

"Great!" he smiled.

"Great," you nodded. You both chuckled, not really knowing what to say.

"I should leave you to get back to your letter," Steve said after a moment. "I'll, um, see you around."

You told him goodbye before shutting the door behind him and sitting back down at your desk. But you found you didn't have it in you to pick up your pen. No, your train of thought was lost, and was now racing a hundred miles per hour, because –

Because why would he ask you. Because he could've asked any other girl and they would've probably said yes, yet the thought of him going with another girl made your stomach drop in a peculiar way. The obvious answer was that it was just about his comfort zone, which you knew Steve was prone to staying in.

Yeah, that's it. It's just comfortable. Familiar.

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The night before the ball, you found yourself tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. At around 2 am, you officially gave up and traded in your pajamas for some more presentable clothes in case someone is also awake, and made your way to the library.

Over the few months you've been here, the library has become somewhat of an escape for you. Sure, it was where you did a large amount of your schoolwork, but it was also the place that allowed you to 'travel' to several magnificent worlds.

You made your way as quietly as you could, picking up one of your favorite classics. It was an old, worn in version of Dumas' "The Count of Monte Cristo", a book which you vaguely remembered reading in your childhood and, when you stumbled upon it here, fell in love with all over again.

The place was dark, and you wanted to keep it like that, giving you less of a chance to be disturbed by others. You sat down and lit a candle, getting immersed in your book. So immersed, you didn't notice the sound of footsteps coming up behind you.

"I figured I'd find you here," Steve smiled, sitting down on the wooden chair next to yours.

"How come?" you smiled back and closed the book, not before putting a bookmark in it.

"I went up to your room to see if you were still awake because I wanted to show you something. When you didn't answer my knock, I guessed you were either in extremely deep sleep or you were here. And would you look at that, I was right," he smirked.

You chuckled. "What did you want to show me?"

"Come on," he stood up and extended his hand to you, "I can show you right now."

You smiled and followed him as he led you outside, into the chilly night. You shivered slightly as the cold air hit your face. "Steve," you complained, "I wasn't really planning on going outside. I don't have my jacket."

"Oh, right," he said, stopping in his tracks, "sorry. But you could just take mine," he said, while already shrugging it off.

"No, Steve, then you'll get-"

"Come on!" he smiled, wrapping the jacket around your shoulders, "let's go!"

You giggled at his excitement, adjusting his jacket a little before following him further away. He took you somewhere you had shockingly never been before, a small, secluded field of hydrangeas, peaceful in the moonlight. You looked around in awe.

"I knew you'd like it," he smiled. "And look," he gestured upwards, "it's far enough from the building so we can really see the stars."

You looked up and your breath caught in your throat at the sight. He was right. The stars never seemed so many or so bright to you than in the moment.

"See right there? That's Ursa Major, and that-"

You looked to him, and his words faded away in your mind, becoming a low stream of sounds. Everything seemed to become softer, distant, while he flooded your mind.

In that instant, it looked like Steve had the moon in him. Soft, and bright, and beautiful. His pale skin glistened under the moonlight, but when his eyes turned to meet yours, you thought you may have been wrong.

Because in them, you found the stars.

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And there it was, the big night, the night of the ball. You were nearly ready to put on your dress when you heard a knock at your door. You opened it to find Steve there, smiling.

"I just came to check in on you," he said, handing you a few hibiscus flowers. You smiled, taking them from him, your fingers brushing against his.

"Well, I'm doing quite well," you said, and wordlessly invited him in. He followed you inside and shut the door behind him.

"You look great," he said.

"I'm not even wearing my dress yet," you giggled. Squinting, you tried to figure out what about him seemed off to you. Then, when you realized it, you stepped up to him and brought up your hand to fix his shirt collar, which was partly stuffed under his tie. You then rested your hand next to his collarbone, above his heart.

"You look great too," you said softly, smiling a small smile up at him.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"Alright, I better get ready," you chuckled, stepping away from him. "I'll see you there."

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Steve didn't think of himself as a very sophisticated guy. Sure, he was smart enough, but he was no match to you, for example. He wasn't that big on words or analogies.

And yet, when he saw you step down the stairs into the ballroom, his first thought was that you looked like the sun, ethereal and radiant in your beauty, almost blindingly so; your hair was styled in a simple manner, your face stretched in a soft smile as your wonderous eyes roamed around the room. Your dress created an angelic sort of look, and as you gently walked down each step, your hand delicately gliding on the banister, he nearly couldn't believe you were real, that you were making your way to him.

The moment your eyes met his, your smile became bigger, your steps quickened, much like his heartbeat. When you arrived, he extended his arm to you, like he has a habit of doing, and greeted you a soft hello over the sounds of the dainty music.

The night went great, it really did. You two danced together, ate some of the fancy food, laughed. It was… magical. There was one point, when you were swaying together to a slow song, when he thought –

Well, it didn't matter what he thought, didn't it? Because at the end of the night, you didn't wait on him. No, you sneaked out with some guy in the year above you.

Steve wanted to be angry. He couldn't, not at you anyways.

Ever since a year ago, when you found out you were going to the same college, he knew. The relief that washed over him when he heard the news, the gratitude of being able to be by your side – he didn’t understand how he didn't see it sooner.

He assumed, sooner or later, you'd see in him what he sees in you. The sun. Happiness; bright, celestial, divine.

But maybe you can't see what's simply not there.

Steve went to his dorm. He went to sleep, but his nightmares awakened him again and again. Nightmares of losing you. So, without any other choice, at around 5 am he decided to give up and get up, maybe take a shower.

At the moment, it felt like real life wasn't any better than his nightmares. He hoped at some point, that would change.

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"Damien!" you laughed breathlessly as he pulled you through the endless corridors.  

"What?" he chuckled, stopping and turning back towards you, pulling you a little closer to him by your joint hands. You panted a little in an attempt to catch your breath before you spoke.

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, wherever you want to! Just away from that stuffy ballroom," he grinned.

"It wasn't stuffy, I thought it was very pretty!" you defended it with a smile.

"Not as pretty as you," he softly said, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. He's been complimenting you like that since you two met an hour ago at the ball, and well, you were a simple girl; you really wanted him to kiss you right now.

He took a step closer and his hand traveled to your chin, holding it and gently tilting your face up. Just as his lips touched yours, your eyes fluttered shut, allowing yourself to succumb to his embrace, your lips moving against his. You broke apart for air, and you opened your eyes when you remembered.

"Damien," you said, "I just remembered, I was with my friend at the ball and I didn't tell him I was going… can we go back for a second?"

He examined your face for a second before smiling and saying, "Sure. Just for a bit though," he winked.

You made your way back in silence, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the carpets below you. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you found him looking ahead with a smile. Bashfully, you smiled too, slightly biting your lower lip. Soon enough, you arrived.

Staying close to the ballroom doors, Damien asked you, "Can you see him?"

"I don't think so," you said with a frown, scanning the dancing crowd with your eyes. Steve was tall, usually you were able to easily pick out his frame from any crowd, but you couldn't see him anywhere nearby.

"Well," you said after a couple more moments passed, "he probably realized it and went already," you shrugged.

"In that case," Damien gestured at the exit, "After you, madam."

You giggled and bowed a small bow before exiting, Damien on your heels. You spent the night walking the grounds, talking to each other over the sound of the wind. When it was getting late, he escorted you to your room and gave you a good night's kiss, a perfect gentleman, just like you read about in books.

That night you slept peacefully, no dreams, good or bad, plaguing your consciousness. The next morning you woke up refreshed, ready to take on the day.

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You and Steve were still friends, but something changed. You didn't really see it, too occupied with school and Damien to notice, but there was a shift, a distance that wasn't there before. You still talked, you still hung out from time to time, it just… wasn't the same.

One day, when you were in the library together, one cold February night, Steve asked you a peculiar question.

"What do you think is the best way to tell someone you love them?"

"Why, any Valentine's day plans?" you joked.

"Nothing in particular," he shrugged.

"Well, I think the best way to tell someone you love them is with words. Just… say it, or write it, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess that's nice," he smiled, returning to his book.

"So, who's the lucky lady, huh?" you nudged him with your elbow, "is it Kathrine? Because I'm telling you, I really think if you'd ask h-"

"It's not Kathrine, because it's no one," he cut you off with a chuckle. "It was just a general question."

You never bugged him about it again, quite honestly you forgot about the whole ordeal.

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The months of the winter passed, and lo and behold, the spring settled over you. The winds were less harsh, the flowers were blooming again, the sun was shining brightly. With only a few scattered days of still wintery weather, you mostly studied outside on the grass, maybe under a tree. You were making the best of it, inviting your friends of Damien to study with you too. You felt like bursting into song.

One day, when you and Damien were sitting on the grass, studying together, he picked a rhododendron, sticking it behind your ear. The large flower didn't hold on for long, and fell down after a couple of seconds. You laughed, and he chuckled. Picking it up, you tried to put it on once more, but it just wouldn't stay. Then, you took it again and this time, stuck it behind his ear. Somehow, it managed to stay on.

You laughed, "You look very pretty."

"I do?" he asked, fluttering his lashes playfully, "why thank you darling."

After a while, he took it off and pressed in between the pages of his notebook. "Like you always do," he smiled, showing off the closed notebook before putting it back into his bag.

"Be careful," you giggled, "if it falls out the entire bag will be full of petals, and even when you’d think you got them all out, you'd find a couple more a few days later."

"Are you speaking from experience?" he asked cheekily.

"Why of course not! I was born a professional," you stuck your nose up indignantly, making him laugh.

"Of course you were, how could I forget," he offered you his hand and helped you up.

As you walked together back to the school building, you had a feeling you forgot something, or like something was missing. You looked back at the place you were sitting in seconds ago, but there was nothing there.

"Everything alright?" Damien asked.

"Yeah, everything's great," you answered, squeezing his hand that was clutched in yours.

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When the second ball was approaching, Damien had started to send you love letters. Every time you had gotten one, you felt your heart pick up its pace, a smile stretching on your face. Some of them were poems, some quotes, some just sentences, you didn't know which he wrote and which he read and thought of you. You took to the habit of saving them all in a small box in your room, going through them every couple of days.

I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists, the reality of everything ~Virginia Woolf  

Every one of them was simply signed with three x's, signifying kisses. You smiled as you put the most recent one into your pocket, intent on putting it with the rest later.

Some days, you'd get small notes, and some days would be a rather large page. You loved both.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

~Elizabeth Barrett Browning 

You resonated with the words, you've always loved poems. Weirdly, you've never talked to Damien about your love of them, but you guessed he just… knew. That's what made him so special.  

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever. ~Alfred Lord Tennyson

That one made you stop in your tracks for a moment. It made you think of Steve. He didn't really bring you flowers anymore. Well, maybe he just didn't find any new ones.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.      If this be error and upon me proved,      I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

~Shakespeare

You smiled brightly as you read the note. You were getting new ones every other day. Amongst the chaos of exams, it was nice, knowing that's the way he had to keep in touch with you. You were just done reading it when your friend came up behind your back, reading over your shoulder.

"Oh, did Damien bring you this?" she smiled. "You guys are so cute together."

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you The love of all man’s days both past and forever: Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life. The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours – And the songs of every poet past and forever.

~ Rabindranath Tagore

That last one you found in the library copy of "The Count of Monte Cristo". You gravitated towards it every time you were anxious, or couldn't sleep, or both. It was a comfort. Finding the note there nearly made you cry; the long day you've had mixed with the love you felt bringing tears to your eyes. You blinked them away with a smile, stuffing the note in your pocket before starting to read the book.

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Steve saw you open the book and get the note. He smiled to himself.

He didn't know if this would work, or if you'd think your boyfriend wrote them. He just wanted to make you smile.

He also wanted to make you know, make you understand what he was feeling. But you weren't exactly emotionally available right now, so Steve did the best he could; he waited.

In the meantime, he went to search for another poetry book. He was surprised you hadn't recognized his handwriting yet. He did write it a bit more neatly than he usually did, with more careful attention.

Maybe she recognized it but didn't want to say anything. Maybe that was a pitying smile, whispered a voice in his head. He shook it off.

He knew you weren't his, but he couldn't give up hope. He could wait some more.

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The spring / end of the year ball was approaching in giant steps. You were done with your exams, and already had a dress, which you adamantly refused to show Damien despite his repeated pleas. Now, you were spending an afternoon outside, enjoying the fresh air picnicking with some of your friends, who were playing a card game you couldn't care to learn the rules of. You were taking photos instead, borrowing one of your friends' camera and taking some pictures of them playing, of the scenery.

"Has Damien asked you to the ball yet?" one of them asked.

"Oh, not yet," you shrugged, "I'm sure he will though. I mean, you've seen the notes he sent me," you giggled, "I don't see another option."

Just then, you saw a figure coming towards you from afar. In the other direction, you saw Damien approaching, and before you had a chance to wonder about the other person, he was there, planting a kiss on your cheek. You put the camera down on the blanket and smiled at him.

"Speaking of the devil," your friend chuckled.

"Only good things, I hope," he sat down next to you.

"Of course," you laughed and leaned away from him to snap his picture, "what else could we have said?"

"Well, that's great, because I was wondering," he took a breath, "do you want to see me do a card trick?"

"Yes, sure," you said, slightly confused but still smiling.

He held up a card. "Could you tell me what card this is?"

"A leaf ace," you said.

"Great," he flipped it around in his hands a couple of times, before pulling off a complicated hand movement you couldn't keep track of, and was now holding a small, card sized mirror. "Now, could you tell me what card this is?"

"It's… a mirror," you said, puzzled.

"Look closer," he encouraged.

"Still a mirror, Dames," you chuckled.

"No, it’s a queen of hearts!" he laughed, "my heart, more specifically," he leaned in closer and smiled. "Would you go to the ball with me?"

"Yes! Of course I will!" you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Just then, you heard the shutter of the camera clicking, and broke apart from him, laughing.

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The night of the ball finally arrived. You were in Damien's room, getting ready, when you finally had the mind to say, "Oh, Damien, I don't think I ever thanked you for the notes," you smiled at him from the other corner of the room. He was standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie, while you were sitting on the bed, already in your dress, which you finally let him see.

"Oh, from last week's lecture? No problem love," he smiled at you, your eyes meeting through the mirror.

"No," you giggled, "I meant the notes you've been leaving me."

He looked at you, puzzled. "You know, the notes with the– oh come on, don’t play dumb," you scoffed playfully.

"I'm not," he said, "I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about." He finished the knot and came to stand in front of you, offering you his hand and helping you up. You stood in front of him, squinting.

"Okay," you said after a few moments. Smiling, you noticed his collar was partly stuffed under his tie, raising your hand to fix it and –

"Oh," you frowned softly.

You knew who wrote the notes. You knew all along. I mean, how couldn't you recognize the handwriting of the person you know the best? Who knows you better than anyone else?

The person you've been neglecting the past few months. And yet, he was sending you love letters. You felt like crying, because you should've known it was him. More than that, you should've realized; you love him too.  

You love him so much it nearly hurts. The man with flowers in his hand and stars in his eyes, the one who took you to every bookstore you ever wanted to visit, who gave you his jacket when you were cold, who knew not only what your favorite book was, but also what copy of it you would take.

As good as Damien was to you, he was never the one for you. He was charming, lovable for sure.

But he wasn't your Steve.

Your Steve who was probably going to the ball alone, or maybe not even going.

"Is everything okay?" Damien asked, a concerned frown on his features.

"No, I- look, Damien," you took a deep breath. "I owe you an explanation, and I swear, I will give it to you, but I just… I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean can't do this anymore? Do you not want to go to the ball or-"

"No," you closed your eyes forcefully before opening them, "us. I don't think we should be together anymore."

"Where is this coming from? Love, is everything o-"

"It's not okay, Damien!" tears welled up in your eyes, "It's not fair to you, I know. But I just… I have to go," you stepped away from his embrace.

"Go where? You're not making any sense, please, can you just-"

"I'm sorry, I am so, so sorry, but I have to go. I promise I'll explain everything, just… not right now," you said shakily, fumbling to collect your things before leaving the dorm, and a stunned Damien in your wake.

You weren't sure where you were going, you just knew you had to find him.

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You roamed the corridors in a bit of a daze until you finally realized your legs were carrying you to the library, and shook your head, deciding to go there anyway since there was a decent chance Steve was there.

He wasn't. You knocked on his dorm room door, but he didn't answer it, so he probably wasn't there either. You went to sneak a look at the ball, but you didn't find him there too.

You were just about to give up when you looked out of one of the windows. There, you saw the small glass gazebo that was a little further away from the building. The light was on, and there was someone there. You couldn't tell if it was Steve, but you figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

You went down the stairs and outside. The night was surprisingly crisp, and the dress you were wearing had short sleeves, but you continued anyway. As you got closer, you could see the silhouette clearer; it was indeed Steve.

You stopped a few yards next to it. Now that you found him, you didn't know what to say. I'm sorry didn't feel like enough, and –

Your train of thought was cut off by Steve turning around, his eyes locking with yours through the large glass windows. You swallowed heavily.

He went outside, crossing the distance and standing in front of you. Both of you were quiet for a moment before he spoke up.

"Not going to the ball?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I feel like it's obvious I'm not going. Where's your boyfriend?"

"I don't know."

Silence settled between you for a couple of minutes, each one of you absorbed in your own thoughts. Eventually, you were the one to speak up this time.

"I know you wrote them, Steve."

He chuckled. "Okay. What do you want me to say?"

"That you meant them," your voice broke with emotion, not knowing how true the words were until your lips uttered them out loud.

"I did. I do. I can't say I'm sorry for that."

"You shouldn't be," you said, "I'm that one that should be sorry. I am sorry," you looked up at him, your eyes sincere. "I'm sorry I didn't realize it was you sooner. And I don't mean the notes, Steve," you stepped closer to him.

"Then what do you mean?"

You licked your lips hesitantly, bringing your face closer to his. You didn't know which one of you finally broke the distance, but suddenly his lips were on yours, and it's all you could think about. You were kissing Steve Rogers, and it was enchanting. You wrapped your hands around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You melted into his touch as your hands tangled in the soft hair on the nape of his neck. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek gently, and suddenly you were both smiling so hard you broke apart, gasping for air. Your foreheads stayed connected, leaning on each other as you slowly opened your eyes.

"This," you whispered, "I mean this. I love you, Steve."

"I love you too," Steve laughed, "so much. I was afraid you will never say that. That I'd never get to hear you say that to me. I love you," he said again, his eyes looking into yours.

Just at that moment, it bizarrely started to rain. "Really?" you looked up at the sky, "it's spring! Hell, it's almost summer!"

"Maybe it's summer rain," Steve suggested with a smile.

"But it ruined our moment," you playfully pouted.

"We always have another one," he smiled, pulling you in for another kiss, not minding the rain that was now wetting your dress, his suit. You felt the raindrops fall on the top of your heads, but the sensation was a thin echo compared to Steve's lips on yours.

A thunder roared, and you broke apart once again.

"Maybe we should get inside," you suggested.

"Maybe we should," he grinned, "last one there is a rotten egg!"

He started running before you could even register what he said. Just like he did when you were kids.

"Wait!" you laughed, running after him, gathering your skirt in your hands, "Not fair! I have a dress!"

He stopped and ran back to you before picking you up with ease, carrying you bridal style to the entrance and putting you down right on the threshold.

"You're a rotten egg, Stevie," you giggled.

He looked down to see that indeed, your legs were technically inside while his weren't.

"Don't worry," you cupped his cheek and tilted it upwards so he'd meet your gaze, "you're my rotten egg."

You both laughed before you went inside. He offered you his arm and you wove yours through it, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Taking your time, you strolled through the corridors in comfortable silence until you reached your room. You came inside and turned on the heating, Steve right on your heels, hugging you from behind.

"I can't believe it's raining," you looked out of the window with a smile.

"I can't believe you're mine," he whispered into your neck.

You tilted your head back to kiss him softly before you involuntarily shivered. Wordlessly, Steve guided you to the bed, tucking you into the blanket. He was about to leave, but you opened your blanket and gestured for him to come cuddle you. He chuckled and climbed in next to you, wrapping his arms around you again.

"Tell me a story," you said as you laid your head on his chest.

"Once upon a time," he started, "there was a very beautiful princess. And she chose a normal boy. No one knew why she did it. They asked her, 'why not a prince?' and sh-"

"And she said she didn't like princes, but she loved the boy more than anything else," you smiled.

"Wow, more than big libraries?" he chuckled.

"Yes, even more than big libraries," you giggled. Humming contently, you snuggled even closer to him, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

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Which brings us to where we started this story, the next morning.

The story Steve's eyes told you that morning was better than any other story you've ever heard. It was a love story that you would tell your children, and your grandchildren.

And every time Steve heard you telling it, he sat and listened with a smile.

You once asked him why he always listens to that story, it's not like he didn't know it, he lived it.

"I did live it," he answered, "but I still live it, every single day. And it gets better with each day," he leaned down to kiss you.

Steve Rogers was the most wonderful of men, and over the years he grew to be the most wonderful of husbands, of fathers and of grandfathers.

You both grew, but there was one thing that stayed the same – his heart was yours, and your heart was his; forever.

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flower meanings:

Rose – love.

Honeysuckle - pure happiness, sweet love, devoted affection.

Hydrangea - gratitude, grace, beauty, abundance. some colors also symbolize bad luck.

Hibiscus - variously symbolizes health, delicacy, beauty, respect and hospitality.

Rhododendron – beware.  

p.s. - the meanings are based on my limited searches, also there are some flowers with more than one meaning:)

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i’d love it if you’d want to tell me your thoughts!! if you’ve stuck through this entire thing - thank you!!!<3

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