dewey decimators

dewey decimals

on ao3

i was doing a close reading assignment the other night and i started thinking about connor as an english major and then i started thinking about connor as a librarian and now im here

enjoy this and also my opinions on wuthering heights

Connor loves books.

He does, no matter what look Larry gives him whenever he locks himself in his room to read for a few hours. Larry probably thinks he’s getting high. Okay yes, sometimes he’s just getting high. But he also reads.

It’s cliche as fuck, but books are the best friends Connor’s got. They can’t hate him or judge him or abandon him. They’re just there. Plus it’s pretty morbid to sometimes think about how they’re insights to the minds of people who are dead.

So yeah, Connor likes books. He likes classics and gothic novels and young adult lit and middle grade books. He doesn’t really get book snobs, because there are shitty books in every genre. He tries to give all books a try.

Except Twilight. Zoe went through a Twilight phase. Fuck Twilight.

Keep reading

Bangtan Fic Rec

All of these are on ao3, they’re all shipping fics. I’ll add more as I read, these are just the ones I’ve read so far. My opinion is in italics, I only added the pairing, summary and theme of the fics, not the warnings and ratings so check those out when you’re gonna read them because some of them contain either smut, death or violence. You’ve been warned.

Fics in this list: 43.

I dream in the shape of your mouth by jonghyun | Namjin, College!AU.

Summary: Seokjin spends a lot of time in the library. Now, Namjoon does too. Taemin tries to summon Satan, and Jimin is a fuckboy.

*Jackson voice* Cute

Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast by Kavbj | Taekook, College!AU, Fantasy!AU

Summary: Taehyung has magic in his veins and Jungkook’s determined not to let it kill him.

Dude. This fic is so creative and well-written… I finished it and felt empty.

beat for me (live for me)  by bakkushan | Namjin, Mafia!AU part of the offer me your deathless death series.

Summary: Namjoon’s looking at himself and then at Seokjin and all he can see is Life and Death lying next to each other under a starless sky.

I cried like a bitch with this one, painful as fuck.

All you need is love (and pink) by vppa | NamJin, Angels and Demons!AU.

Summary: Most people only have one miniature angel or devil riding on their shoulders to serve as the physical manifestation of their conscience. Poor Namjoon has five, and they’re all telling him the same thing: “fucking talk to him god dammit what the fuck is wrong with you”

Funny and sweet. I like it.

Can I Get Your Dewey Decimal Number? by melecs| NamJin, Library!AU.

Summary: Seokjin loved working at the library, but some patrons got on his nerves. Take, for example, the grown man who sat in the corner every day and leeched off of the Wi-Fi. And Seokjin worked in the children’s department.

Ah, this is… something else, for sure. Cute as hell. Funny, too.

The less I know the better by mucha | Taegi, Namjin, Fake Relationship!AU

Summary: “Together with their families, Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin… Wow, this is formal… Wait,” Hoseok squints at the paper, before looking back at Yoongi with a quizzical look on his face. “They invited you with a guest? But… You’re single, right?”

“Min Yoongi,” Jimin glares at him over the bar, crossing his arms sternly over his chest. “If you’re seeing someone and you didn’t tell us I will kick your ass, so help me god.”

“I’m not dating anyone,” Yoongi sighs, grabbing the invitation and scanning it quickly. The words “with a guest” are underlined and Yoongi can almost see it: the smugness on his brother’s face as he nods with satisfaction, putting the pencil down.

“So what does it mean?”

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding making eye contact.

“I might’ve… invented a boyfriend,” he finally mumbles to the glass in front of him.

This is so good, amazing, incredible. Brilliant. Entertaining as hell.

Star Light, Star Bright (The Last Star I’ll See Tonight) by DreamsOfAnotherReality | Taekook, Yoonseok, Teen!AU.

Summary: Jung Kook and Taehyung fall in love the summer Hoseok goes missing.  

Hoseok just wanted to see the stars and confess to Yoongi gdi bye I’m gonna fucking kill myself.

Creating a home series by CheekyBrunette | Namjin, Foster Parents!AU

Summary: A BTS Foster Care AU

This AU is so cute and fluffy I love Domestic!Namjin

The Professor’s Family series by EquinoxSolstice | Taekook, NamJin, Family!AU

Summary: Professor Kim Namjoon is married.

He doesn’t have a wife.

They have a sort-of son.

And Jeon Jungkook just crossed paths with them.

Read this. It’s great, I promise.

The Greatest by Little_Dimples | jikook, College!AU, Sports!AU.

Summary: Person A is a hockey player person B a figure skater. Person A is told he needs more grace on the ice so he is forced to get lessons by person B. Problem is they hate each other.

Or Person A is Jungkook and Person B is Jimin.

I had so much fun reading this you don’t get it. As I was reading in class i had to hide my face because I was smiling so much. Really good fic.

400 minutes | yoonmin, School!AU.

Summary: Min Yoongi expected a lot of weird experiences to happen when he went to college, but being the roommate of his high school love who apparently “moved away for good” was not one of them.

Angsty but in a good way.

Beta Tau Sigma by bazooka | Namjin, Yoonmin, College!AU, Frat!AU.

Summary: A collection of events occurring within (and without) the walls of the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity house.
At Beta Tau Sigma, there are only a few rules:

1) have a declared major in the College of Music;
2) keep your GPA above a 3.4;
3) don’t let Taehyung into the liquor cabinet;
4) don’t fuck up with Kim Seokjin. The rest is all fine print.

(Rating changed to M for sexual content in ch17.)

OKAY, THIS FIC IS THE END OF EVERYTHING FOR ME. My Favorite Fic Of All Time. Nothing is ever gonna top this for me, even House of Cards. This fic has it all, humor, angst, fluff, smut. Everything. Incredible fic. Golden fic.

cuz in a sky full of stars (I think I saw you) by wowoashley | Taekook, Namjin, Fake Relationship!AU

Summary: taehyung always has bad ideas. and jeongguk thinks this might be the best.

This is so cute and cliché but in a good way, I really love this fic.

ce monde est une têmpete by astringxnt | Taekook, Yoonmin, Namjin, College!AU

Summary: they say that one should fall in love with their eyes open, but Jungkook keeps his closed, and Taehyung is afraid that they’ll fall in all the wrong places.

the concept of strings in space time theory is that on a one dimensional plane, one only has the option of going backwards or forwards in their direction of travel. Jungkook chooses to be swept along into the unknown, with Taehyung as his only anchor.

AMAZING! I really like the plot of this one.

Safe and Sound by bazooka | Namjin, Royalty!AU.

Summary: From a tumblr prompt: Jin is a prince, and Namjoon is his bodyguard.

“You’re sort of bad at this.”
“Nah. You’re safe, aren’t you?”

Prince!Jin. That’s all I have to say about this fic. Amazing.

(thought you knew) you were in this song by expplipo | Taekook, Yoonseok, Namjin, Soulmate!AU

Summary: Taehyung nearly chokes, but only nearly. Instead he raises an eyebrow and puts on the most suave smile he can manage. Hopes he looks far more collected than his for-some-reason racing heartbeat would let on, more suit-and-wine than elementary-schooler-with-a-new-crush. “You like me?”

Jeongguk blushes, and looks at his feet. He’s smiling. “Of course.”

“Really?” Taehyung says. “Like? Or like like?”

(So much for suit-and-wine.)

Nothing to say apart from it being amazing.

Common Thread by sugafree | Yoonmin, Namjin, Soulmate!AU

Summary: Red String of Fate AU where Yoongi doesn’t believe in soulmates and spends a long time trying to avoid a certain someone on the other end of his red thread.

I’m a sucker for Soulmates, but this fic is good regardless, love the way it’s written.

for you, anything by kadotas | Vmin, Yoonkook, Namjin, Marriage!AU

Summary: “Talk dirty to me,” Taehyung says lowly into Jimin’s ear, breath ghosting Jimin’s earlobe, eliciting a slight shudder from the latter.

“I’m not wearing underwear,” Jimin whispers back, pulling back to look Taehyung in the eye.

Taehyung groans gruffly at this, breaking the eye contact to lean down and nip Jimin’s jawline gently. “God yes baby that’s just-“

“I’m not wearing any underwear because you never fucking put the laundry in the fucking dryer like I’ve asked you to 100 times,” Jimin hisses, voice strained with vehemence, glaring at him and Taehyung sighs defeatedly.

(in which Taehyung and Jimin navigate through married life together, realising belatedly that it’s not always smooth sailing.)

Domestic Vmin is the best Vmin.

Let me know by TheOrgasmicSeke | Yoonmin, Yoonkook, Jikook, Yoonminkook, Namjin, Vhope, I Need U!AU, Poly!AU

Summary: Talking about it, of course, became harder as the days passed by. Yoongi could never find the right time to bring it up. He was still wondering if he was just imaging things. If he was just thinking he was feeling the things he was feeling. But that was quickly disproved every single time Jimin curled up around him and Jungkook kissed him. He was a fucking idiot in love with two bigger idiots and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Except probably ruin it by talking about it. Hell, maybe it was better to just never mention it and pretend it wasn’t happening.

So good. No other words.

Find the value of an elephant by tired angry egg (Mirabelle) | Namjin, Highschool!AU, Tutor!AU

Summary: When Kim Taehyung’s academic situation takes a turn for the worse, his mother is convinced to hire a highly recommended tutor in the hopes for a miracle that would turn her son into a conscientious student. Her eldest son, Seokjin, has a far more skeptical opinion on this entire thing, expecting it to be-lest he sugarcoat it-a complete failure. And Kim Namjoon is just really bad at making good first impressions (or second ones, or just impressions altogether).

Cute and funny.

A Sociolinguistic Analysis of Epenthesis in Academic Convergence by bazooka | Namjin, College!AU, Professor!AU

Summary: Epenthesis
A phonological phenomenon in which two disparate sounds meet, creating a third sound between them which wasn’t there before.

There were a lot of jobs worse than being partnered with world-renowned Absent-Minded Professor Kim Namjoon, but Professor Kim Seokjin couldn’t think of what any of them were at the moment.

THIS! IS! SO! GOOD! Honestly, I’m in love with this fic.

The Mark of an Educated Mind by bazooka | Namjin, Metafiction.

Summary: At three o'clock in the morning after he’d been working for ten hours straight and everything he touched came out wrong and all his words were stilted and clumsy and all his music was rough and tangled… for some ungodly reason Kim Namjoon opened up a new browser window, typed bangtan sonyeondan fan fiction into the search bar, and then (god) hit enter.

No comment.

A Wonderful Institution by bazooka | Namjin, Yoonmin, Wedding Planner!AU.

Summary: Kim Seokjin is a wedding caterer. Kim Namjoon is a wedding planner.

Both of them think marriage is a societal construct with no place in modern life. Neither of them would know Real Love if it came up to them at a wedding and made a wager.

I love this fic because it’s so cute and funny to me.

Just Skin by syubology | Taegi, College!AU.

Summary: Yoongi is small and angry and 200% done with having feelings; Taehyung is Taehyung; Hoseok harasses Yoongi with petnames and Jimin ships Yoonseok. That’s basically it.

The fic that made me ship Taegi.

Pour up (Drank) by mindheist | Taekook, College!AU, Frat!AU.

Summary: If you can read this, take another shot.

LISTEN. This fic is so good it’s almost Beta Tau Sigma and that’s saying a lot because I love that fic. Anyways, the story in this one is great and it has its funny moments as well as fluffy and frustrating ones. Great fic.

Sidereal by darling | Vmin, Childhood Friends!AU.

Summary: Here we observe the Earth and the Sun in their natural habitat: each other.

This is all cute and fluffy in some parts but deep in others. Beautiful fic, I like the concept.

half a soul divided by jynxu | Minjoon, Taekook, Yoonseok, Soulmate!AU

Summary: Park Jimin has never been on a date. Nor has he had his first kiss, flirted with anyone, or fallen in love. His classmates would ridicule him and base nicknames over his distaste toward anything romantic. (Look, here comes Saint Jiminie!) Even his younger brother would make fun of him while his parents watched with pitying looks on their faces.

Nobody understood.

or: soulmate au where your soulmate’s date of death is tattooed on your wrist.

This made me cry. At school. No joke my friends were worried. Great fic, read if you want to cry.

Out of My System by xxdevilishxx | Yoonmin, Vhope, Namjin, One Night Stand!AU.

Summary: Yoongi likes one night stands and he understands how they work. What he doesn’t understand, however, is how he ended up in bed with a probably-not-legal kid crying in his arms about his broken heart, because he’s pretty sure (and correct him if he’s wrong) that a babysitting job was not what he was looking for when he went to the opening of his friend’s new club.

I read this instead of studying. Really good and interesting, I like the characters.

refrigerator humming, chewing gum and instant karma by locks | Taekook, Gangster!AU, Mafia!AU.

Summary: Taehyung sets the flowers down on the dining table, plucking the card off the little holder. “Dearest Taehyung, just wanted you to know that I’m thinking about you. I hope you’re thinking about me too. Love–” he pauses and squints before cocking an eyebrow and pursing his lips. “Hyung, why is the boss of your little boy band gang professing his love for me?”

Yoongi drops the noodles on the floor with a loud curse as he burns his hand.

Or, Taehyung’s been trying his hardest to avoid Yoongi’s criminal life for a long ass time, but a cute kid and his infuriating father keep pulling him deeper into the mix.

Cute and a good read, the concept is awesome and I like the way it’s written.

House of Cards by sugamins | Taekook, Vmin, Jikook, Vminkook, Mafia!AU, Gangster!AU.

Summary: Jungkook is the heir to a mob empire, the most notorious in the whole of Seoul. Taehyung is a rookie sent in to infiltrate by his select team and bring the empire crumbling down.

“You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated.”

Trailer. This fic. I have no words. It’s beautifully written and the plot is amazing, really interesting and just plain good. The fic to end all Mafia!AUs. Nothing is ever gonna top this for me. It’s also a long read.

Let Me In Or Let Me Down by noraebangbang | Yoonmin, A/B/O.

Summary: Yoongi hates dealing with heat cycles and suppressants and life in general. Everything is a terrible mess, and then there’s Jimin to make things a tiny bit brighter.

Now, listen, I don’t really like ABO, but this fic is so good that I wanna like it because if there are any other ABO fics like this gem then I’m in for a treat.

Kickstart series by Error401 | Yoonmin, Namjin, Vhope, Gangster!AU, Hitman!AU

Summary: Hitman!Yoongi AU.

The plot of this series is really interesting, I read it all in one sitting because I just needed more. It’s really good.

The Still Point (Of The Turning World) by inkingbrushes | Yoonseok, Reincarnation!AU, Soulmates!AU, Multiple lives!AU.

Summary: Because Yoongi doesn’t know how this started, or how this will end, but he knows this simple fact: he knows that there is a love between them that is much fiercer than the burning sun. There is that love then, and there is that love now, and surely there will be that same love the next time.

(Or: the one where they’re reincarnated over and over again and Yoongi meets a different version of Hoseok every time but Yoongi is the only one that remembers.)

Ok, this fic made me cry really hard and I’m still affected by it. It’s beautiful and sad and you should totally read it.

i love it when people tell me that my fics are their only source of batman knowledge because that means their understanding of batman is

  • big fan of frogs
  • enjoys kale and sesame balls and tzatziki and tamarind spoons
  • names cats after the musical Cats when no one is looking
  • keeps dog treats in his utility belt
  • Columbo enthusiast and impressionist
  • has strong feelings about the dewey decimal system (it’s bad)
  • makes spreadsheets to try to quantify why he feels like shit
  • spends too much on cologne and office supplies
  • accidentally sleeps with everyone
  • pettiest man alive
  • only follows @dril on twitter
  • skilled at ballet
  • banned from walmart
  • dissociating like 90% of the time
  • has fought a crime at least once, maybe twice
witchcraft in the dewey decimal system

this is a shortlist of good places to help you find books to use in your craft when you’re in the library

  • 000
    • 030 general encyclopedic works
    • 090 manuscripts and rare books
  • 100
    • 110 metaphysics
    • 130 paranormal phenomena, occult
    • 140 specific philosophical schools
    • 170 ethics (moral philosophy)
    • 180 ancient, medieval, oriental philosophy
    • 190 modern western philosophy
  • 200
    • 210 natural theology
    • 240 christian moral and devotional theology
    • christian denominations and sects
    • other and comparative religions
  • 300
    • 390 customs, etiquette, folklore
  • 400
    • 410 linguistics
    • 420 english and old english
    • 430 germanic languages, german
    • 470 italic languages, latin
    • 480 hellenic languages, classical greek
    • 490 other languages
  • 500
    • 520 astronomy and allied sciences
    • 540 chemistry and allied sciences
    • 550 earth sciences
    • 580 botanical sciences
  • 600
    • 610 medical sciences and medicine
    • 630 agriculture
  • 700
    • 740 drawing and decorative arts
    • 780 music
    • 790 recreational and performing arts
  • 800
    • 820 english and old english literatures
    • 830 literatures of germanic languages
    • 870 italic literatures, latin
    • 880 hellenic literatures, classical greek
    • 890 literatures of other languages
  • 900
    • 930 history of the ancient world
    • 940 general history of europe
    • 950 general history of asia, far east
    • 960 general history of africa
    • 970 general history of north america
    • 980 general history of south america
    • 990 general history of other areas
student info: Junk, the student assistant librarian

The library is an odd place, and the librarians are an odd bunch. There’s the research librarian who hunts monsters; there’s the one who smells like fig newtons and seems to live and breathe books and only books, as if bound somehow to the library itself; there’s the… some guy, you think, who helps with reshelving (and “some guy” is not at all an accurate description of… whoever or whatever he is, but you don’t dare risk any other description) and, of course, the head librarian. The head librarian is called Irons, and her name suits her. Mrs. Irons is rarely seen, but when she does show up, everything- everything- falls silent. They say Mrs. Irons once shushed the Wild Hunt. You almost believe it. They say she learned the true name of one of the Gentry, and put him to work in the library as an unpaid intern. You don’t know about that, but you don’t look up when you hear some guy shuffling a book cart around the shelves.

And then there’s the student assistant librarian.

The student assistant librarian is exhausted and stressed all the time. Usually she says her name is Junk, but sometimes she gets confused and introduces herself as something else instead- not ever her true name, no, just whatever she happens to blurt out. She’s used to false names. She wears boots with iron hobnails and sweaters inside out and cargo pants with a hundred things in their pockets; her hair is usually uncombed but always smells of witch hazel. She’s tall, but she has the sort of permanent stoop you get from keeping your eyes on the ground all your life. She’s personable, but she doesn’t do well when conversations go off script. She never makes eye contact, and her dark eyes move oddly when she looks around- as though there are things in the room she wants to avoid seeing. She lies as often as she tells the truth, seemingly without reason. Her lies are always either entirely inconsequential or unconvincing to the point of absurdity, but she always delivers them with the same impossibly straight face.

The job is minimum-wage work study; you’re not sure how many hours they’re even allowed to give a student each week, but it seems like Junk is always in the library. There’s a dingy old microwave behind the circulation desk and a pile of clothes from the lost and found that could conceivably be a bed, if you’re an exhausted college student who doesn’t want to risk the trek back across campus at three in the morning. (Any time but three in the morning, freshmen quickly learn- you can be a night owl all you like, but three in the morning is not our time.) 

The student assistant librarian, whose name is usually Junk, is on the brink of flunking all her classes and always behind on reshelving. This is understandable. She is a student and an assistant librarian, but the real task of the student assistant librarian has little to do with either of those things. The library is an odd place and it is full of odd things, things odder even than the librarians. It is the task of the student assistant librarian to provide protection between the library and the students. She wanders the shelves with silver studs in her ears, washers on a chain around her neck, salt in her boots, a hand-crank flashlight in her pocket, and a crumpled guide to the Dewey Decimal system in her hand. She recites a poem as she walks, not because it keeps her safe but just because it’s her favorite stim: feeling the rhymes and rhythms on her own tongue, finding the patterns, finding the sense. It helps keep her calm- and she needs to be calm when she walks the shelves. 

She finds the students who have wandered into danger; she finds the danger that has wandered into the library. She sorts things out. She chews her lips bloody inside every time she goes into the deep shelves, but she sorts things out. She knows exactly how to deal with the Gentry, and exactly how to avoid dealing with them. She is not all-powerful, nor does she think of herself as particularly heroic, but she is smart and she is stubborn and when you are in her library you will be safe.

There’s a rumor that Junk was born with the Sight. You’re not sure if that’s true- you’re not sure if that’s possible- but when you look at her, this strange gangling girl who strides into the deep shelves every night for minimum wage and strides back out again with lost students at her side, this girl who knows every rule for every interaction with the Gentry, this girl that lies as easily as breathing and once accidentally introduced herself as Captain Kirk, this girl that you once saw crying into a cup of E-Z Mac behind the circulation desk… when you look at her, you think that if anyone was ever born with the Sight, it was probably Junk.

You do not envy her that.

She has a cat, officially registered with the school as a support animal for her autism. It is grey, a bit chubby, incredibly loving, dumb as a box of rocks and about as energetic, and all in all one of the most aggressively mundane animals you’ve ever seen. Perhaps that’s why the Gentry have never messed with it- or maybe that’s because Junk has always ensured that the cat is as protected as it is possible for any animal to be: an iron-buckled collar of brass bells, fur washed with witch hazel water she’s left in the moonlight, salt packets sewn into its support animal vest, no name given, and always at her side. It does not chase mice in the library. It does not chase anything at all, nor has it ever attempted to drink or eat from the offerings that students leave out. Maybe, upon reflection, it isn’t actually that dumb.

On the occasions she actually manages to make it to class, she usually falls asleep on her tiny desk within ten minutes. Even in small classes, most of her classmates don’t want to wake her. Student assistant librarian is not an easy job, and it is only decency to allow her rest where she can find it. Her grades suffer, but she will return to the library for her shift, and when you are in her library, you will be safe.

Junk doesn’t have a major. Even after two years, she’s still muddling through her gen eds. She doesn’t often talk about her family- at least, she doesn’t often tell the truth about them- but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love them. Sometimes, at Elsewhere, it’s best to keep the things you love secret. Her family, whoever they are, wherever they are, are proud that their daughter made it to university. They do not know about her job, or the duty that comes along with it. They especially do not know about her grades.

Finals week is hard on everyone, but it also means that the number of students in the library increases tenfold- and so does the number of other things. Finals week is the most dangerous time of year, more dangerous even than the ravages of Spring Break, and it is the duty of the student assistant librarian to provide protection between the library and the students. She stays up all night herding the desperate studiers out of the unsafe places; she takes her exams as quickly as she can (too quickly) and then races back to the library to fetch those who have gone missing in her absence. It is not uncommon to see Junk full-on sprinting down the campus sidewalks during finals week, lanky limbs akimbo, hair wild, cat peeking out of her backpack. As hard as she runs, though, she never cuts a corner from the safe pathways. 

Not a single student has been Taken* from the library since she started work- an unprecedented record. She’s proud of that, even and especially on days when she’s too exhausted to put three sentences together, let alone write a timed essay. It seems unfair to give a job like this to a full-time student, and it is- but there is something about it that’s vital that the student assistant librarian must be both student and librarian. They must be a go-between. They must walk both worlds. They must provide protection.

(*She found a philosophy student halfway to the Barony once, miles past the marble palace in the reference section. He was lost and glamour-dazed, but not yet Taken, not all the way. She gave him half the sandwich she had in her pocket (the other half went back into the pocket, just in case) and led him back to the circulation desk in time for the end of night shift- the journey had been several days, she was certain, but time passed differently in the library. Two weeks later, the same philosophy student went missing from a party, and never reappeared. Junk couldn’t do anything about that; he wasn’t in her library. But no one gets taken from her library.)

Junk never asks for anything in return from the students she rescues from the deep shelves- it is her duty, after all, and duty means a bargain bigger, more binding, and more sacred than any trade between students. Still, it might be a good idea to help her with her classwork. After all, if she flunks out, the school is unlikely to get another student assistant librarian like this one.


((Hope this is alright! Wasn’t sure how to submit this but… Junk and Mrs. Irons are original characters of mine, sliding into Elsewhere University AU-wise. Anyone who wants to can find out more about them and their other lives (and talk to Junk!) at my blog @deweydeadcimal.))

Five Second Rule

I was digging through my drafts folder and found this random, mostly finished little ficlet. So I polished it up and present you with some random Hannigram.

Hannibal greatly enjoyed the times when he got to linger in the bowels of the FBI as he was today, leaning over a lightly putrefied body with contained fascination as Jack’s forensic team fussed around him. Admittedly, much of that enjoyment came from the fact that Will was generally nearby and often endearingly vulnerable in this environment, but even when Jack dragged Will away to his office – which he had done just ten minutes ago – Hannibal still took great pleasure in the chance to brush up on his understanding of the FBI’s inner workings. Indeed, he had spent a very entertaining forty-five minutes discussing the use of turmeric in fingerprint identification with Mr Price, the knowledge of which already had Hannibal both rethinking his post-kill clean up routine and considering whether he had anything in his freezer that might work well in a curry. Something delicate and fragrant, to go with the flank of that appalling parking attendant from the previous week, who had been sadly lacking in either quality.

It was, therefore, with pleasant images of arranging his next tableau – something involving flowers, perhaps, for Will – thronging in his head that Hannibal followed behind Price, Zeller and Ms. Katz as they made their way to the break room, having decided that they would make no further progress in the case without “choking down a disgusting amount of sugar,” according to Ms. Katz. Hannibal had nowhere pressing to be, after all, and would happily wait the whole afternoon in order to see Will again once he was released from Jack’s clutches.

That thought might have given Hannibal pause on any other day. However, just at the moment it crossed his mind, he happened to witness the greatest atrocity of his life.

“Oops, butterfingers!” Ms Katz trilled, as a glazed, rainbow-sprinkled doughnut slipped her grasp and landed on the floor, sprinkles down. And then Hannibal watched in fascinated horror as she bent to retrieve the soiled pastry, blew on it and, shrugging, said the words that struck disgust into Hannibal’s very soul.

“Five second rule!”

And then she ate it.

Hannibal had to leave the room. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to vomit otherwise.

Will caught up with him later in his lecture hall, where Hannibal was restoring inner harmony by rearranging the library of his mind palace. He had developed his own shelving system – the Dewey Decimal was hardly up to scratch – and was replacing some volumes of poetry when the smell of aged paper was joined by the ever-welcome scent of Will’s presence. Hannibal opened his eyes to find the profiler regarding him with a mildly concerned expression, perhaps discomfited by Hannibal’s apparent lapse into a vegetative state. Hannibal had yet to introduce Will to his palace, though of course versions of him already resided in many of its rooms.

“Hello Will,” Hannibal said, assuming a placid and affable tone in order to reassure his friend that he was perfectly well.

Will, somewhat worryingly, was not fooled, his magnificent brows drawing together in concern. Hannibal automatically catalogued the expression for future commitment to paper. He would have to find several hours soon to do so: his mental file of unrecorded images of Will was becoming somewhat unwieldy. Perhaps one day he would be able to coax Will to pose for him in the flesh. Perhaps in nothing but the flesh, his beautiful form freed from all that frumpy, everyman plaid, the firm, strong plains of his muscles exposed for Hannibal’s perusal…

“Is something wrong, Doctor?” Will asked, pulling Hannibal from his reverie, his tone brusque as ever but tinged with genuine care, the presence of which caused something to tighten painfully in Hannibal’s chest. He sighed and decided it could do no harm to inform Will of his friend’s unhygienic crassness. Will would likely brush it off as perfectly acceptable behaviour, causing a little tarnish to his appeal that Hannibal would be rather grateful of at that moment.

“Will, have you ever heard of something called the ‘Five Second Rule’?” Hannibal asked, unable to keep his mouth from twisting into a slight moue.

Will looked up at him in surprise and then slapped his hand across his eyes. “Please tell me Bev did not do that in front of you,” he groaned.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, amused by Will’s apparent embarrassment.

“I’m afraid to say she did,” he said, gently despite his stomach lurching slightly at the thought. “You do not approve?”

“Doctor, I live with a pack of dogs. Do you really think I would eat anything that had come into contact with my floor?” Will grinned and Hannibal’s breath hitched. “And I’m pretty certain I clean my floor more than most people, present company excluded.” Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat. “I keep telling Bev she needs to stop, it’s a really filthy habit.”

And then, well, there really was nothing for it but to close the gap between them and kiss Will, firm and sure and with just the slightest brush of tongue to really get the point across.

“Hannibal!” Will pulled back and Hannibal reflected ruefully that he would have preferred the first time Will addressed him by his first name not to have been with such shock in his tone.

“I must apologise, Will. That was not how I had planned…” he trailed off as Will’s eyes snapped up to his.

“Plan? What plan? There was a plan?” Will asked, his eyebrows threatening to detach completely from his head and rocket skywards.

Ah yes, the plan. The one in which Hannibal would – with the help of Will’s rapidly worsening encephalitis – break the empath, frame him and imprison him, to be kept under lock and key until the time might come when Hannibal wished to play with Will’s brain once more. The plan which, Hannibal now realised, he had not thought through with his usual precision, because it would be inconvenient to have to visit the BSHCI every time he wished to kiss Will. The plan which would now have to be abandoned completely because there was little… there was absolutely no chance Hannibal was not going to keep kissing Will, now that he had started. Kissing and, with any luck, much, much more. Assuming Will would let him, that is.

Will, who had pulled back but not out of Hannibal’s embrace.

Will, who was looking up at Hannibal from beneath those ridiculous, beautiful lashes.

Will, who was very definitely smirking and leaning in close to whisper in his doctor’s ear, “Well, Hannibal, it seems you don’t have a problem with all filthy things.”

And it was true because, as they soon found out, there were some things Hannibal was very happy to eat off the floor, even after they’d been there much longer than five seconds.


One of the Librarians is a Monster Hunter.

I know this because that is what the plaque on her door reads, in 18 different languages.

I believe it because she carries a sword almost everywhere she goes.

Sometimes people visit her, sometimes I don’t dare look at Them when I pass Them in the hall.

I’ve seen her when I’m coming home late in the evening sometimes, just as the sun sets. Covered head to toe in iron, rustling and catching the last rays of the sun as she walks down the sidewalk.

She’s usually in charge of the library in the afternoon, I’ve seen her conversing with the dust motes about how the Dewey Decimal System works.

She runs the fencing club and every first Monday of the month is an open day for all to try out fencing. Sometimes They like to come on these days, if you’re interested in a challenge.

I once saw her at a party I went to, arm in arm with a beautiful silver haired woman, not a bit of iron on her person. She’s very brave, I wish I was like her.

But this one time she disappeared for two whole weeks. When she came back she had her arm in a sling and walked with a limp.

Her life seems like it’s so exciting. I once tried to ask her how she got into it, but she pretended she hadn’t heard me.

Maybe the life’s not for me anyway, she always looks tired.

One of the younger faculty takes a rather active approach to her life around Elsewhere U, sometimes it’s not luck that gets you home unharmed from a party, whether you know it or not.



shh don’t tell anyone she’s reading on the job when she should be learning the dewey decimal system 

Noted, Daveed Diggs x Reader

Prompt: First date + Daveed Diggs

Words: 880 (I’ve been writing much more than usual per fic)

Author’s Note: A sort of continuation of ‘Street Cred’. You don’t necessarily have to read that one to understand this one, though!

Warnings: Cursing (what else is new?), drinking (nothing. this is nothing new).

Askbox | Masterlist | Part 1

Daveed was precisely on time for your date. He opted for a very casual look after his busy day and you were very grateful you decided to go with a Golden State Warriors shirt.

He walked in a few minutes after you did, a few of his costars trailing behind him.

“I really hope you don’t mind. It’s actually impossible for them to leave me alone?”

“The more the merrier,” You assured, scooting over in the semi-circular booth so he could take the seat next to you and his friends could slide in on the other side.

He went around the circle, introducing each of them and watching you easily interact with them. You happily joked with Oak, complimented Jazzy on a bracelet she was wearing and was able to send a flirty remark to him all in one breath.

You fit in seamlessly, and when you offered to get the first of many rounds that night, his friends were quick to tell him.

“Shit, man, are you just really good at scoping out girls at coffee shops?” Anthony, who had stayed quiet and observed carefully, asked.

“A Warriors shirt? You’re paying her, right?” Jazzy joked, grinning innocently when you returned with a waiter in tow, who carried a round of shots and beers for the group.

Eventually, Oak’s girlfriend arrived and he spent a better part of the night on the dance floor with her, accompanied by Anthony and Jazzy. This left you alone with Daveed at the booth.

“How was work?” You shifted your body to face him.

“Good, only fucked up a bit. You never told me where you work?” He shifted as well, leaning forward and draping his arm over the back of the booth.

“I live the oh-so glamorous life of a bookstore employee. The Dewey Decimal System gives me a thrill like nothing else can,” You joked, throwing back a shot, wincing when the strong liquid hit the back of your throat.

“I can imagine. Nothing more erotic than a 600 page exploration of a fucking shark or something.” He followed your lead, tossing a shot back casually. You giggled at the thought of the man in front of you sitting down in costume to consume a rousing book about fish.

“Well, it pays the bills. I would like to paint, but who has the time?”

“A painter! You do have the hot, mysterious feeling of a troubled artist…” He trailed off, glancing to where Oak and Anthony had drunkenly decided to start singing along to the blasting music.

“Now, that’s true art.” You laughed when Jazzy decided to join in, harmonizing perfectly even in her tipsy state. You lifted your beer glass, and he clinked his against yours.

You spent the night with Daveed by your side, you shared tidbits and stories of your life, as you really didn’t know much about each other. The end of your date was spent trying to corral his friends into taxis, sending them home as safely as you could.

You told him your apartment building was a few blocks up, and he offered to walk you home. You took him up on his offer, feeling much safer in the dimly lit street with his arm around you.

“They liked you, they might actually like you more than they do me,”

“Well, they have great taste, then.” You teased as you crossed the street onto your block, “This is me.” You pointed up to your building.

“We’re going to do this again, right?” He asked, leaning against the door as you fiddled with your purse in search of your keys to the building.

“I think so.” You found your keys, and twirled them in your fingers as he cleaned closer, “Although, as much as I love getting drunk with the Tony and Grammy award winning cast of Hamilton, I might enjoy getting dinner with Daveed Diggs more.”

“Noted.” He beamed as you unlocked the door. He moved forward to hold the door open for you, but you didn’t move past the archway. You pushed yourself onto your tip-toes, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Goodnight.” You whispered, turning on your heel into your building.

Still holding the door open, he had one single thought, ‘Do it, Diggs.’

He caught a hold of your wrist, turning and pulling you into his chest. Without a second thought, he pushed his lips onto yours, having to lean forward to accommodate your height. Again, you pushed forward as far as you could to completely eliminate any and all space between the two of you.

You pulled back breathless, your purse laying forgotten on the floor of the lobby of your apartment building.

“Goodnight.” He replied, giving you one last peck before leaving you stunned. You scrambled to pick up your purse, and climbed the flights of stairs to your floor faster than you ever had before.

You still felt the pressure of his lips the next morning, when he texted you a picture of the sun rising over the skyscrapers of New York with the caption, ‘this reminded me of you’.

You painted it for him and hung it up in your apartment on your one year anniversary. You moved it to the nursery two years later.

anonymous asked:

hello friend! I'm a teenage bi person and I want to learn about pre-AIDS and pre-stonewall LGBTQIA+ history. do you have any books you'd recommend?


Okay, you asked for books specifically, but I’d like to quickly mention the 1984 documentary Before Stonewall since it’s what first got me interested in researching the history of the LGBTQ+ community pre-Stonewall. It’s old so the terminology is dated as heck, but it’s educational. 

NOW BOOKS (Disclaimer: I’m American so this is going to have a really strong American slant, sorry! I would love for people to reblog this and add on more)

  • A Queer History of the United States by Michael Bronski is pretty good just because it covers about 500 years of American history. Plus it looks good on a bookshelf. 
  • Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe by James Boswell is pretty interesting, and I like it because it pisses off old white man Christian historians. 
  • Transgender Warriors by Leslie Feinberg focuses on non-cis people throughout history, GREAT read for people who seem to think trans folks (esp non-binary people) were invented in 2000. 
  • Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers by Lillian Faderman focuses on wlw in the 1900s, and was suuuper informative for me. 
  • The Spinster and Her Enemies by Sheila Jeffreys is probably now the most cited book on my blog thanks to acephobes. It’s technically a book about feminism, I think, but it deals with “women who didn’t have sex with men” from like 1880 to 1930 and it a very good read. 
  • I’ve heard really good things about Queer London by Matt Houlbrook but I haven’t actually read it myself; it’s about early 20th century London’s LGBTQ+ folks. 
  • I like Lost Prophet by John D'Emilio for the intersection of black rights/gay rights. 
  • The Men with the Pink Triangle by Heinz Heger is an autobiography by a gay man in a Nazi concentration camp, and therefore deals with an interesting intersection of homophobia and antisemitism. 
  • I like Before Night Falls by Reinaldo Arenas because it talks about NON-American LGBTQ+ history: Cuban, specifically. 

And that’s pretty much what I’ve got on my bookshelf. I recommend going to your local library/used bookstore and seeing if you can find anything on LGBTQ+ history there. It’s normally shoved into a corner, haha. To my knowledge there’s not a designated “gay history” Dewey Decimal number and I’ve found book on the subject all through the 900s so it’s a crapshoot. A librarian and a free afternoon could help you find plenty of resources, though! 

Creepypasta #1241: I Found Something At The Library I Most Definitely Should Not Have

Length: Long

So it seems the formula here is to open up with some expository personal details right? I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Let’s call me John. I suppose someone could pretty easily hunt down my IP and figure out who I really am. And I’d be pretty naive to think no one will try to do just that. But I’m in way over my head now and at the very least, I need someone to listen.

Anyway, call me John, like I said. I’m a college senior and a lifelong victim of relatively crippling anxiety and depression. In case you didn’t already know, “college senior” and “anxiety and depression” make for a particularly excellent stress cocktail, so things have been especially rough lately. Up until the last six months or so, I’ve always known what I wanted to do with my life. It hasn’t always been the same thing, but I’ve always felt pulled in one direction or another. So, of course, now that it’s time to actually know what I want to do with my life, I’m at a loss. 

I do have an incredible support system however; my parents are totally understanding and compassionate when it comes to my anxiety. The same goes for my wonderful girlfriend. I worry I’m putting them in danger by writing this, but they probably were already anyway.

The one thing I’ve always enjoyed doing is writing. I had planned on being a journalist before I recently realized I’m petrified of talking to strangers. I’ve always liked the idea of screenwriting, for TV and movies and the like. I know I’ll still have to talk to strangers, no matter what I end up doing, but at least this way my job doesn’t depend solely on the cooperation of strangers. 

They say if you want to be a writer, you just have to start writing. Doesn’t matter if no one ever reads it, you just have to do it. That’s always been brutal for me. I don’t see the point in doing something for myself. I need the validation of others to be happy. Always have. So I guess I’ve just been a little scared to just sit down and write. I’m not scared of that anymore. Not after this morning. I’ve got much more to be scared of now.

I was at the library grinding out homework, around midnight. I spend a LOT of time there. We have little private study rooms called carrels here. Sometimes I post up in one late in the morning and don’t leave until after midnight. It’s a peaceful place on a busy campus. 

Once I finished, I decided I would finally start writing something. Instead I chose to procrastinate, which I excel at. I opened up gmail to take inventory when something caught my eye. I had a new email, except it didn’t seem to be from anyone. I shit you not, the space where the sender’s address usually is was instead just blank. 

The subject line read “A Little Inspiration”. I figured it was spam; I’m not too careful about streaming websites so it wouldn’t have surprised me if some sketchy site had gotten a hold of my email in the hopes of hacking me. I figured I could open the email and be safe as long as I didn’t click any links.

The email read as follows:

Writer’s Block, eh?

I’ve got something very special for you, Johnny. I think you’ll like it very much. Maybe I’ll have something more for you later.

5th floor. 917.23.



Anyone who knows me knows better than to call me fucking JOHNNY. This was some weird-ass spam. I shrugged and deleted it. I didn’t have time to blink before another email, apparently from no one, appeared at the top of my inbox.

Keep reading

  • The guy at the movie theater when I was going to s;ee Bingo's Jungle: Can I see your clown forms please?
  • Me: Huh? Oh, yes. Which one would you like to see? My Spherical Clown Form? Or perhaps my Rectangular Clown Form?
  • The guy at the movie theater: *Looks at me perterbedly*
  • Me: Ah... yes. I know which one you want. The Dewey Decimal Clown Form. Nothing less for a diehard fan like you.
  • [My body begins to drastically distend itself, my bones tear apart as I am reshaped and reformed into a perfect Clown Body in the shape of the number 4.28]

y'all are always talking about cryptids and shit so let me just say that when I was in the fourth grade I would check out the same cryptozoology book from my school library over and over again and I would read it cover to cover every night until I scared the shit out of myself and had to sleep with the light on but I kept fuckin doing it like. I think I unintentionally memorized it’s Dewey decimal number just because I checked it out so often. I slept with the light on for a solid six(6) months my guy

The Start of Something New Chapter 6 (Jughead x Reader)

Chapter 1
, Chapter 2
, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

In which even more important questions are asked.

Listen to: “The Book of Love”, Gavin James

(Y/N) wandered the dusty shelves of the library, briefly recalling her text message conversation with Jughead earlier that day.

Jughead: Hey (Y/N). Pretty sick today so I can’t come. But I need a book for the research project in history due tomorrow. Can you check it out for me and bring it after school?

That was weird. Jughead was always at least a week ahead of the course schedule.

Y/N: Yeah sure, what’s the title?

Jughead: Mr. Andersen said the book lost its dust cover so it’s just blank and red with gold bindings. Here’s the dewey decimal number. I think you can figure it out.

Y/N: Why don’t you just ask Archie? You guys live together anyways.

Jughead: And let him into our place? No chance.

(Y/N) had grinned at that, and headed off in search of this prodigal history tome. What Jughead had asked for was deep in the stacks and took quite a while to find. The fact that it didn’t have a cover made it easy to spot among the spines with words, surprisingly.

She slid the red book with gold binding off of the shelf. Out of curiosity, she turned to the first page in an attempt to find the title.

The Start of Something New, it read in a bold font. (Y/N) became confused. This seemed more like a piece of fiction than a historical text. Maybe it was a historical narrative and Jughead was supposed to compare and contrast the story with real life? They were in different history classes and she had no idea what Mr. Andersen had assigned.

(Y/N) glanced at her phone; she had half an hour until next period. She brought the book to her and Jughead’s table, opened it, and began to read.

Keep reading

B99 + Library AU: in which Jake is a newly hired library assistant, and Amy helps him avoid getting fired. 

“You don’t know the Dewey Decimal System? How did you even get hired?!”
“I might have convinced the lead librarian that I’m an avid reader of The New Yorker.” 
“You what?!”
“Yeah, Kev was super impressed with how I justified the pro-slavery stance I backed myself into.” 


It’s Jake’s first day on the job, and he has no idea what he’s doing. 

Amy had just cringed when she saw him eating what seemed to be a bowl of cereal and orange soda at the front desk, but she draws the line at seeing him place Jimmy Brogan’s The Squad in the Fine Arts section. When she confronts him about it, it’s agonizingly clear how unqualified he is for his position. Horrified over the prospect of him wreaking havoc in her favorite library, she sets out to help him with the rest of his tasks for the day.

Jake knows he’s completely out of his element, but he’s also very aware of his crushing debt. Desperate to keep his new job, he promises to give Amy first dibs on the most in-demand books in exchange for a crash course on being the ultimate library assistant slash genius.