#dewey decimal system day

[blondebrainpowered]

Melvil Dewey invented the Dewey Decimal System in 1876.

The Dewey Decimal System makes finding books in libraries much simpler. Dividing books into ten main categories, each with its own subcategories, helps librarians and visitors find exactly what they’re looking for without wasting time.

This system is not only about keeping books in line; it’s about making knowledge accessible to everyone. Over 200,000 libraries in 135 countries still use this system today because it works so well​.

[murderousink23]

12/10/2024 is Human Rights Day 🌎, Dewey Decimal System Day 🇺🇸, Nobel Prize Day 🇺🇸

[ami-ven]

Happy National Dewey Decimal System Day!

[walterdecourceys]

goodnight. adhd is a prison

[kickingitwithkirk]

[aclaywrites]

My guess is no, and my also guess is the biggest con of consensus oriented management is that someone always wants to be the boss and they usually can’t hide that for very long. I’m not sure what the pros would be and don’t have enough interest in business management to come up with any. This is a liberal-arts blog— the only numbers I’m good with are Dewey numbers. Please check 685.1 for books on corporate management and finance for further information.

[lxvsiick]

KISS ME RIGHT | MYUNG JAEHYUN

PAIRING: down bad! frat boy! myung jaehyun x library worker! fem! reader 

SUMMARY: Jaehyung goes to the library everyday to see Y/n even though he's never touched a book in his life.

GENRE: fluff, imagine, frat boy

WORDCOUNT: 2k

WARNING: kissing scene towards the end!

A/N: Inspired by KISS ME RIGHT by Keshi -- the song is finally out! i've been waiting ever since his last tour ,, this song reminds of jaehyun’s flirty personality so ENJOY!

The double doors of the library swung open with an exaggerated flair, and every head inside turned like it was a reflex. There he was again—Jaehyun, in all his glory. Hair tousled like he'd just come from the gym, a hoodie slung over his shoulder, and that ridiculous smile that could charm the paint off the walls. He strutted into the library like it was the hottest club on campus, and not the quietest place within a ten-mile radius.

Whispers buzzed through the aisles.

"Is that Jaehyun again?"

"Does he even know what a book is?"

"Bro, he’s here every day now. Do you think he lost a bet?"

But Jaehyun didn’t care. He barely noticed the stares anymore. All he cared about was making his way to the front desk, where Y/n sat. She looked calm, focused, her fingers flying over the keyboard, the glow from her computer screen highlighting her face. She didn’t even look up as he approached.

Jaehyun cleared his throat a little too loudly, startling a student reading in the corner.

"Yo, uh... hey," he said, trying to sound casual, like he hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes rehearsing those two words in his head.

She finally glanced up, her brow furrowed in mild confusion. It was like she was wondering why this human embodiment of a golden retriever was trying to infiltrate her serene library world.

"You’re here again?" she asked, her voice neutral but with a hint of amusement.

Jaehyun rubbed the back of his neck, his usual swagger deflating slightly under her gaze. But he quickly recovered, flashing that winning smile that got him into any party, out of any trouble, and, hopefully, into her good graces.

"Yeah, you know... studying and stuff."

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at the completely empty table he had staked out for himself behind her. No books. No laptop. Not even a notebook. Just him, spinning a pen between his fingers like he was preparing for the next big test in... nothing.

"Studying?" she echoed, clearly unconvinced.

"Yeah, you know... brushing up on... the Dewey Decimal System." He threw in a dramatic wink, like it was the cleverest thing anyone had ever said about libraries.

She didn’t laugh, but there was a tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of her lips. Success.

"Right. Well, let me know if you need help finding a book... or learning how to read." Her voice was dry, and Jaehyun's grin widened.

"Ouch, brutal," he chuckled, his face lighting up like she had just complimented him.

She turned back to her screen, though he could tell she wasn’t entirely brushing him off. That was all the encouragement he needed. Without another word, he made his way to his usual table—smack in the middle of her line of sight. He didn’t sit like a regular person. He flopped down with a dramatic sigh, then spread out across the chair like he was getting ready for a nap, not a study session.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

From her seat, Y/n could feel his presence, like a beam of sunshine she wasn’t sure she needed right now. Every time she glanced up, there he was, pretending to flip through the pages of some random book he’d grabbed. Every few minutes, he'd peek over the top of the pages to check if she was looking.

At one point, Taesan and Leehan walked by and nearly stopped in their tracks when they saw Jaehyun actually holding a book. Leehan nudged Taesan, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Dude, I think he’s... reading?"

Taesan snorted. "Nah, he's definitely planning something. Probably trying to get out of doing chores at the frat house."

Jaehyun pretended not to hear them, but he couldn’t help shooting a quick grin their way. Let them talk. He was on a mission—a mission that involved far more staring at Y/n than reading anything resembling words.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

As the library’s closing time approached, the once-crowded space thinned out. Y/n was busy packing up her things behind the desk, when she noticed Jaehyun still lounging in his seat, scrolling through his phone. Everyone else had left, but he lingered like he had all the time in the world.

She walked over, standing at his table, crossing her arms with a bemused expression. "You know we’re closing, right?"

He glanced up, his puppy-like enthusiasm returning as if she’d just thrown him a bone. "Oh, yeah, totally. Just waiting for the right moment to—" He glanced down at the book in front of him and then looked back up, suddenly sheepish. "—check this out. For... studying. You know, tomorrow."

She shook her head, but this time, the smile she’d been holding back all day finally broke through.

"You’re hopeless."

He stood up, grinning ear-to-ear. "Nah, just... committed."

She raised an eyebrow, a challenge in her eyes. "To studying?"

He stepped closer, playful but serious. "To you."

For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the quiet, empty library around them. Then she laughed—soft, real. And in that moment, he knew every second of pretending to study had been worth it.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

The bass from the speakers thumped through the walls of the frat house as Jaehyun stood near the kitchen, laughing with his friends. Red Solo cups in hand, they exchanged stories from the week, loud banter filling the air. Jaehyun was mid-sentence when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

Out of the corner of his vision, Y/n stepped through the front door, her figure silhouetted against the dim lights of the hallway. She was wearing a sleek black dress that hugged her frame just right, her hair falling in waves over her shoulders. The noise of the party seemed to dull in his ears. He froze, his eyes locked onto her as if the world had slowed down just for a moment.

His friends continued chatting around him, oblivious to his trance.

"Yo, bro... hello?" Sungho waved a hand in front of his face. Jaehyun blinked but didn’t move.

"Earth to Jaehyun! What are you staring at, man?" Sohee nudged him, noticing where his eyes were glued.

His heart pounded in his chest, his mind still trying to process how she—Y/n—was here, in this chaos of beer pong and blaring music. She didn’t belong here, but she looked so effortlessly out of place, it was almost unfair.

"Bro, you good?" Hanbin laughed, realizing why he was distracted. "Dude’s done for, he’s totally smitten."

Jaehyun shook his head, snapping out of it. He chuckled awkwardly, trying to act nonchalant. "Yeah, uh, I’ll catch you guys later." He set his cup down on the counter and started weaving his way through the crowd toward her, his pulse quickening with every step.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

As he neared her, she looked around the room, clearly unfamiliar with the party vibe. Her eyes landed on him, and she smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He stopped a few feet away, his voice unsteady.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, more confused than anything. "Who invited you?"

She raised an eyebrow at his tone, folding her arms over her chest. "Jake invited me. I thought it might be fun." Her voice was cool, as if his question wasn’t welcome.

A flare of jealousy twisted in his gut, and he frowned, glancing around the room, wondering why Jake had to ask her. "You should’ve said no to him. This isn't your scene." His voice came out sharper than he intended, his frustration laced in every word.

Y/n scoffed, clearly annoyed. "Excuse me? You don’t get to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do." She took a step closer, her gaze hardening. "I didn’t come here for Jake. I came because I wanted to see you. But if this is how you're gonna act, maybe it was a mistake." Her voice cut through the noise, her disappointment evident.

Before he could even respond, she turned on her heel, moving deeper into the house, disappearing into the crowd of bodies and flashing lights. He stood there, dumbfounded, replaying her words in his head. She came to see him.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

His heart sank. He felt like an idiot. Without wasting another second, he pushed his way through the throng of people, his mind racing. How could he have messed up so badly in just one conversation?

"Hey, have you seen—" he asked one person, cutting himself off as he realized they didn’t know who he was talking about. He scanned the dance floor, the kitchen, even outside by the keg, but she was nowhere in sight. His frustration grew with every passing second.

He was a guy who could read a room, crack a joke, keep the vibe light. But right now? He was frantic. His friends slapped him on the back as he passed, asking him what was up, but he brushed them off. He couldn’t let her leave thinking that was all he had to say—that she wasn’t welcome here, when in reality, she was the only person he wanted to be around.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was really just a few intense minutes, he spotted her standing near the back patio, her arms crossed as she talked with a couple of people. She looked frustrated, her foot tapping lightly against the ground.

Jaehyun took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made his way over to her, determined to make things right.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

Jaehyun took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made his way over to her, determined to make things right. 

As he approached, the people around her seemed to sense the tension, exchanging glances before slowly stepping back, leaving the two of them alone in the middle of the patio. The noise around them faded into the background.

Jaehyun opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. Then the words just spilled out.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out earlier. I was just... I don’t know, I saw you in that dress and... and then when you said you came to see me and not because of Jake, I just—" He paused, his hands gesturing wildly as he tried to find the right words. "I got jealous. It was dumb. I shouldn’t have said you shouldn’t be here, because I want you here. Like, I always want you here, not just at parties, but anywhere, and I—" He was rambling now, his thoughts tripping over each other in his rush to explain.

"—I just, I like you. A lot. And I don’t know how to deal with that sometimes. You’re... you’re like this amazing person, and I’m just the guy who’s pretending to study just so I can see you, and that probably sounds stupid, but—" He was talking faster, his words stumbling over each other. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he wasn’t even sure if he was making sense anymore.

Suddenly, Y/n stepped closer, cutting him off mid-sentence. Without saying a word, she stood on her tiptoes, leaning in.

Before he could process what was happening, her lips met his.

Time seemed to stop. His heart did a somersault, and his thoughts went blank. Her kiss was soft, brief, but it left him utterly frozen, like his brain couldn’t catch up with what just happened.

When she pulled back, Jaehyun stood there, completely stunned, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he tried to make sense of reality. For a moment, it was as though his whole world had paused.

Y/n looked at him and burst into laughter—an easy, melodic sound that broke through the tension. "You should see your face right now," she teased.

Her laughter snapped him out of his trance. His shocked expression melted into a grin, his heart racing for an entirely different reason now.

"Wait, you—" he started, his voice trailing off in disbelief.

She smiled, stepping closer again, her gaze soft but teasing. "Yeah, I like you too. Even if you pretend to read at the library every day." She gave him a playful nudge.

A flood of relief and pure happiness washed over him, and without thinking, he closed the gap between them, gently cupping her face and bringing his lips to hers once more. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of it. He could feel the smile on her lips, and it made him grin into the kiss.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[pathologicalreid]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeTkmpNy/ SPENCER MF REID 🙏🙏 can I pretty please request a one shot based on that video ITS SO CUTE

dewey decimal system | S.R.

in which spencer does the most spencer activity first thing in the morning - reorganizing your bookshelves

(tiktok link)

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: i'm fairly certain there aren't any word count: 619 a/n: the beauty of this being my account is that, even though my requests are closed, i was able to exercise free will and write it anyway. because reorganizing your bookshelves unprompted is so something spencer would do.

The other side of the bed was cold when you woke up. Your desire to roll over into Spencer’s arms before getting ready for the day squashed by his absence. Aimlessly patting your bedside table for your phone, you checked your notifications.

You hadn’t received a text, there was no note left on his pillow.

Sitting up in bed, you frowned before climbing out of bed. Cringing at the cold laminate under your feet, you hugged your arms around yourself and mourned the feeling of your comforter over your skin.

To your surprise, Spencer was wide awake, standing in front of your bookshelf like he was an opponent ready to strike. Padding across the living room, you approached him from behind and wrapped your arms around his waist, depending heavily on his body heat to give you the courage not to run back to bed.

“Good morning love,” he murmured, voice gruff from lack of use. With a morning slowness, he skimmed his palms along your arms, swaying gently to the soft sounds of dawn. “Are you alright?” He asked you when you didn’t respond, too caught up in the feeling of him to speak.

Pressing your cheek to the fabric of his plain white t-shirt, you sighed, closing your eyes and breathing in the scent of him, the scent of your laundry detergent on his clothes.

“What’s wrong, angel?” He whispered, softly squeezing your arms before turning himself around while trapped in your arms.

You didn’t let up, forcing him to twist himself within the circumference of your limbs just to see your face. The maneuver was so notably ungraceful that you couldn’t hold back your smile, “Nothing’s wrong,” you mumbled, now pressing your cheek to his chest while he tenderly cupped your head. “What are you doing up?”

Spencer dropped a kiss to the crown of your head, keeping his arms casually slung around you while he nodded at your bookshelves, “I was reorganizing your bookshelves.”

Furrowing your brows, you looked at your previously unruly shelves. They had now been adroitly redone, no longer having books stacked horizontally and being put off for another day, “What do you mean you were reorganizing my bookshelves?”

“Well, initially I had planned on using the Dewey decimal system, which is how my books are organized at home, but you had such an uneven ratio of each category that I ended up doing it alphabetically,” he explained to you, lazily using a hand to gesture to your collection.

Catching a glimpse of the titles, you asked, “By title?”

He shook his head, “Author’s last name,” he responded as if it should’ve been obvious to you. Spencer’s arms tightened around you as he craned his head to nestle his face in the crook of your neck, “Did you sleep well?”

You hummed contentedly at the proximity you had to him, “Right up until I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“I was reorganizing your books,” he emphasized, reminding you what he had spent his morning doing.

Nodding, you shut your eyes, savoring the feeling of his fingers as they now skated their way along your spine, “It looks nice, Spence.”

“Did you want to read a book together?” He asked you, continuing his ministrations on your back.

Pulling away slightly, you rested your palms on his shoulders as you looked up at him, “What?”

He jutted his chin in the direction of your shelves, “There are some books that I shelved, I think we could have a good time reading one together.”

You raised your eyebrows, “You’ll finish way before me though,” you hinted at his reading speed.

“Then I can read aloud to you,” he offered, beaming down at you.

[maniculum]

One of the things I’ve noticed working in a bookstore is that a surprising number of people are completely unfamiliar with the normal way books are organized.

(I mean, in the part of the store where we keep the used books, I frequently have to assure people that the books are organized at all, but that’s because we have way more books than we have shelf space and there’s no way to handle that without it looking a bit of a mess.)

On one hand, we get customers who are apparently a completely blank slate in this area. I frequently have to walk people through, like, “Okay, it’s organized by subject / genre, then by author. Oh, ‘by author’ means in alphabetical order by the name of the author. No, their last name.” (Most of the people I give this talk to are, I think, college kids — it’s a bit strange to me that you can reach that age without knowing how bookstores work, but then again, I can kind of see how these days it’s possible to mostly get your books online where you just use a search function.)

One customer responded to the above explanation with “oh, it’s the Dewey Decimal System!” and I had to be like… no. Similar in broad concept, yes, but the Dewey Decimal System is a very specific thing (involving… decimals) and it’s really only used in libraries, not bookstores, because it kind of requires you to label the spines of your books, which bookstores generally don’t like to do for obvious reasons.

On the other hand, we also get customers with pre-existing incorrect assumptions, which are so often similar that I think they’re being imported from other media (though I’m not sure what).

People seem to expect the organization of Fiction to be much more granular — e.g., “where’s historical fiction?” “oh, that’s just in with general fiction.” I think some of that comes from movies (people ask where the “rom-com” section is, and that’s definitely a movie thing), but I’m not sure that’s always the reason.

(Admittedly the fiction organization is a bit more granular in the Used Books area than it is in the New Books, but that’s because there are certain genres that we get tons of from people selling us their old books, but we don’t buy enough of on purpose to justify giving them their own section in New Books.)

At the same time, people have the opposite assumption about Non-Fiction — i.e., they expect there to be one singular section labeled “Non-Fiction”, which is not the case. I’ve had multiple conversations that go like:

Customer: Where can I find non-fiction books?

Me: You’ll have to be more specific.

Customer: You know, non-fiction.

Me: [gesturing at the signs hanging from the ceiling that say things like “science”, “philosophy”, “art”, “history”, etc.] All of these are non-fiction in their own special way.

I try to be nice about it, but I don’t think I always succeed, just because I’m so often legitimately surprised and confused when someone just doesn’t know How Do You Books. I’m getting used to it now, but I’ve been working there for almost five years, so there’s been quite a long adjustment period in between.

Anyway. Just some observations.

[murderousink23]

12/10/2023 is Human Rights Day 🌎, Dewey Decimal System Day 📚🇺🇲, Nobel Prize Day 🏅🇺🇲, World Choral Day 🎶🇺🇲, Worldwide Candle Lighting Day 🕯🇺🇲

[ami-ven]

Happy National Dewey Decimal System Day!

[thesummerestsolstice]

People seemed interested in Library Orc Blorbo so I decided to write down my headcanons about him:

His name is Garthaglir (it’s Sindarin for “poem keeper”)

He renamed himself after discovering a love for library sciences, shortly after he moved to the valley

Rivendell’s head librarian

Used to be an extremely dangerous warrior, now considers himself retired

Extremely tall and buff, blue skin, salt-and-pepper hair and a well-trimmed beard

Very distinguished, very polite

Has a tiny pair of spectacles he uses to read because he's farsighted

He doesn’t look like an old man but he is one deep in his heart

He was one of the first reformed orcs to end up in Rivendell, so he helps other orcs adjust to living there

Basically invented Middle Earth’s version of the Dewey Decimal system

Look, Rivendell’s library is like, unfathomably huge, there’s 6000+ years of books in there, someone had to organize it

He, Elrond, and Erestor are the only people who have keys to the part of the library where they keep the cursed books

The three of them also have a monthly book club

He holds a weekly story time for the kids

(Yes, he does do funny voices, no, you are not allowed to comment on it)

Has tracked people down at 3 AM before because “M’am? M’am you have an overdue book, here, I brought my library stamp would you mind just checking this out again? You can keep it out for another month that way. Just a moment, ah, yes thank you, I’ll be on my way now. Excellent choice in reading material.”

He has a fancy sunhat he wears outside during the day so the sun doesn’t burn him, it was a gift from small Arwen and he cherishes it

He has a library cat, her name is Mittens and he would die for her

Uses his free time to teach himself different languages; there are hundreds in Rivendell’s books

Enjoys recommending books to visitors, he’s gotten really good at getting a read on what people will like

Personally, when he’s in the mood for fiction, he prefers a good mystery

[warehouse-in-la-cienaga]

Honestly, I love the scenes of the Bad Kids we get where they’re all being incredibly competent, like the scene in the temple, or in Freshamn year when they uncover Kalvaxus plans with the crowns, bank, ect. But I’d love to imagine that that carries over into normal, every day actions too.

The Bad Kids are staying over at the Manor and Sarah Lynn comes down to all six of them preparing breakfast like it’s a military operation because they woke up late and need to be at school on time.

The Thistlesprings ask for their help decorating the glade for another festival and it’s completed a day early because no one wants to disappoint them (and someone gave both Riz and Adaine clipboards and pens).

Hallarial comes back from a weekend away to see the entire house has been baby proofed and the nursery is complete. Fabian declares his nemesis would need to be kept decently safe until the day they fight, and that a good nursery would keep the baby from crying all the time. There is a pirate ship on the wall.

The Leviathan Library gets attacked, and a large number of the books are out of order. Ayda and Aelwyn mention it in passing, and the Bad Kids make a bed fort in the central area and spend an evening reshelving the entire library, including a pully system and a message group of Kristin repeating the dewey-decimal system over and over again, since she’s not allowed on the ladder to the higher shelves.

[txttletale]

some people on this website scare me a little like i'll make a post like 'super mario has been acquitted of any role in the 1929 valentine's day massacre' and then someone will reblog tagged like #1929 #super mario #video game mascots #gang warfare #organized crime #1920s #mario #super mario on trial #super mario acquitted from participation in violent crimes #funny #post and it's like. hello i didn't know the dewey decimal system had a blog

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Space Facts (dp x dc)

Victor takes a minute to curse his stupid teammates for getting him into this. He hadn't even been part of the prank but here he was getting punished anyways. He gives himself one more second before he gets out of the car and walks into the library. He goes up to the help desk and the lady sitting there.

“Hi I’m Victor Stone, I’m here for the community service?”

“You’re early,” says the older woman.

Victor offers a smile to which the lady responds in kind, before standing up and signalling for him to follow her.

“You know the Dewey Decimal system, Victor?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorta,” he says.

“Well, here is a cheat-sheet if you need a refresher,” the lady says as she hands him a bit of paper, before she gestures to a caddie. “You can start with putting these books back.”

Victor hums.

“If you need any help just holler,” the lady says, waiting for his nod before walking back to her desk.

With a sigh, Victor starts picking up books. After a few minutes, he starts losing himself in the task, barely noticing time passing by. 

“Who are you?” A voice just besides him sounds making him jump. 

“Wha-?” He turns to the side only to find nothing there. It’s only when he looks down that he spots the little boy staring right at him with big baby blues.

“Who are you?”

The kid squints. “I asked you first.”

And well, Victor can’t argue with that. “I’m Victor, I’m a volunteer. What’s your name?”

The kid is still squinting when he answers. “I’m Danny. Are you a ghost?”

“Uh,” Victor starts. “No?”

Danny smiles wide at that, showing his missing front teeth. “Great!” He chirps. “Hey, do you like space?”

“Sure?” Answers the teen, confused by the sharp change of topic.

“Really?” The kids eyes are shinning in excitement and Victor can’t help but smile a little at that.

“Yeah, space is cool,” he says.

“I think so too!” Danny has a giant smile on his face as he takes that as a go-ahead to start rambling. “Do you know that there’s no air in space? And it’s really really cold, like, colder than the North Pole even.”

“Wow, that’s really cold,” Victor says as he turns back to his books, and starts working again.

“Yeah! And why we’re ok is coz we have the oz-cone layer which keeps all the hot inside so-" rambles the kid as Victor continues filling the books.

As the day stretches, Victor thinks he should be annoyed, but it’s surprisingly pleasant. Definitely not the worst way to spend an afternoon.

[augustinewrites]

alhaitham used to think that one of the most fascinating aspects of human life was how one chooses a mate.

you’re making it weird. just say lover, the voice at the back of his mind scolds– a voice that sounds eerily similar to kaveh.

but it’s not weird, it’s biology. it’s a selective, compensatory process in which individuals combine scores on several key attributes. such attributes include - but are not limited to - supply and demand, individual circumstance, biology, psychology, religion. it’s an exchange theory of sorts, in which humans pick mates based on who best benefits them. he’d always thought that, should he find ‘a lover,’ it’d be someone like himself.

alhaitham will always be a scholar first and foremost, but every academic thought, fact, and hypothesis disappeared from his mind when he met you. all it took once one glance in your direction and you challenged his every preconceived notion.

you studied under the amurta darshan. he studied under haravatat. you smile and greet every passerby who spares you a glance. he really couldn’t be bothered to lift his nose out of his book. your career in emergency medicine is loud and fast-paced. his job as the scribe (and temporarily the acting grand sage) is largely quiet aside from the occasional research outing or squabble amongst the sages. you voluntarily take extra shifts at the bimarstan all the time, whereas he walks out the akademiya doors at five and never looks back. you like dogs, he prefers cats.

there’s no denying that the two of you are different, and that’s why the outcome rejects his hypothesis. you’re nothing like him and he chose you anyway.

he chose you (even ‘put a ring on it’ as kaveh says) despite the fact that you arrange your books in alphabetical order rather than the dewey decimal system he’s followed since childhood.

which is why he doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly acting like this. if he could swiftly classify your behaviour, it’d be much easier for him to make adjustments to whatever it is he’s doing, but he still hasn’t figured it out.

you’re on the night shift today, which means you’re still asleep as he gets ready for the day. he presses a kiss to your temple, pulling the covers back up around your chin before heading into the kitchen.

kaveh’s already awake too, nursing a mug of coffee as he mulls over the blueprints spread over the dinner table. alhaitham pours himself some coffee, settling into a chair and ignoring his roommate’s protests as he pushes blueprints aside to make room for his mug.

“i was looking at those,” the architect grumbles. “can’t you sit somewhere else?”

alhaitham opens his book, flipping to the page he’d left off on. “it’s my table.”

“that i picked!”

“and i paid for.”

he knows that kaveh can’t argue with that. he smirks, crossing his leg over his knee as kaveh mutters curses, gathering up his blueprints and stomping over to the living room.

when he’s got a good book open, ignoring kaveh’s grumblings is an easy task. his eyes shift toward the clock, and when he sees it’s almost time to head to the akademiya, it’s his turn to grumble.

but then you saunter out of the bedroom, stretching languidly before shuffling over to sit in his lap, pressing various, sleepy kisses to his face. “good morning.”

“ugh,” kaveh scoffs from the couch. “so unbecoming.”

“move out then,” alhaitham suggests, gripping your chin and pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“i can bring you lunch today,” you suggest, hugging him tightly. “or we can go to puspa café and finally have our fortunes read in the coffee grounds!”

“no need,” he tells you. “i’ll just have amani bring me something.”

your face immediately falls, and he doesn’t need to be a scholar to know he’s made some sort of mistake. especially when you slide off his lap, picking up his unfinished cup of coffee and placing it in the sink.

oh it’s so awkward, he hears kaveh say from the living room.

“i wasn’t…” he swallows his protests when you turn around, hands on your hips.

“well, you can just have amani bring you a new one when you get to work.” you turn on your heel, heading off to the bedroom and slamming the shut behind you.

“you handled that terribly,” kaveh informs him. “clearly you’ve never had a woman scream at you with her eyes.”

alhaitham closes his book letting out a breath. “noted.”

after a beat silence, his roommate is the one who sighs, claiming the seat across from him. “alright, i’m going to help you now. because i know that your life has been one grand exercise in romantic self-destruction.”

“romantic self—”

“let me finish. between the job that you have and the one that you somehow got, how often are you home?”

“same hours as always,” he answers easily. just because he had two jobs now did not mean he had to work longer than his standard nine to five.

kaveh shakes his head. “yes, but you always come home too exhausted to do anything, and then she goes to work for the night.”

“that is typically what employed adults who pay rent do.”

he can’t help but chuckle when kaveh rolls his eyes. “okay, smartass. but do yourself a favour and don’t talk about the assistant that obviously has a crush on you. it’s always ‘amani’s this,’ and ‘amani that.’ next time your fiancee offers to bring you lunch, just say yes and absolutely don’t mention that your assistant can bring it to you instead. she’s jealous. you simply have to assure her that she has no reason to be.”

you’re not like that, alhaitham thinks. because he knows you. knows that you’d never be prone to something as cliché as jealousy. and of almani? whose face he couldn’t pick out of a crowd if he tried?

also, kaveh absolutely could not be right. he refused it.

_____

alhaitham’s already at the bimarstan when you arrive, holding two to-go cups of coffee from puspa café. you roll your eyes as your coworkers and patients are whisper amongst themselves, in awe of the akademiya scribe/acting grand sage in their midst.

“you still have approximately ten minutes before your shift,” he tells you. “have coffee with me.”

“i need to get ready,” you huff, speed-walking toward the staff room. “why don’t you drink it with almani instead?”

it’s a low blow, and it’s punctuated by the flash of hurt that flickers across his face. he follows you, though, ignoring the ‘staff only’ sign and shutting the door tightly behind you both.

he opts to stay silent as you put your things away, letting you take the drinks from his hand, “you don’t have to drink it. caffeine intake can affect a person’s fine motor skills. such circumstances are unideal if you’re stitching together a wound or—”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you take the lid off one of the drinks, still glaring at him as you take a sip. “i’m not your assistant.”

if looks could kill, he’d be dead. usually, this is the kind of look you reserve for kaveh when he’s banging around building knick-knacks in the middle of the night.

“i don’t like amani.” alhaitham takes the cup from your hands, placing it on the bench. “i love you, and i don’t say it enough.”

you deflate a little, shaking your head. “no— i— i know. i guess it’s just been a little crazy with everything that’s been going on. you’re the acting grand sage now and you’re busier than ever. i should be more supportive instead of being crazy jealous of—”

“so you were jealous?” damn kaveh.

“well, if i started spending all my time with someone other than you, wouldn’t you be?”

“no,” he answers confidently, reaching out and pulling you in by the waist. “i’m kind of a big deal around here. you certainly can’t do better than me.

“doctor,” one of your medical students interrupts, poking her head into the room. “the general mahamatra is in need of medical attention. he’s asked for you, specifically.”

wait, cyno? asking for you?

this information doesn’t seem to puzzle you the way it does him, and you press a quick kiss to alhaitham’s lips, smiling. “i’ll be right there.”

and if alhaitham hovers a little too closely, shooting daggers over the top of his book while you clean up and stitch the wound on cyno’s unfortunately well-sculpted abdomen, laughing at his every awful joke— you simply smirk, choosing not to say anything.