#I just like to organize information too much

[the---hermit]

how I take notes on non fiction books

I recently made a post on my study method, and decided to make a whole separate post on my note taking method. The structure of the notes I write doesn't vary too much from my lecture notes to things I might have to read. A couple of useful informations you might want to know before I start actually talking about note writing is that I am mainly focused on studying history (tho I have had other humanities exams in my degrees), and that I study for oral exams in which the material is mainly composed of non fiction books, but sometimes include articles as well as lecture notes. Somehow I have also failed to mention that I am speaking about HANDWRITTEN NOTES. I only do handwritten notes, I don't work well digitally, so keep that in mind. And with this being said brace yourselves for a very long post. The bullet points I will be making are not really in a specific order and I will be including a few pictures too.

The first step when I am working on the materials for an exam is to figure out in which order I will be reading (and writing notes) the books. This hasn't really much to do with the notes themselves, but it's important to know which of your materials is more general and what other things go more in depth, so that you don't struggle too much while studying. Another plan related thing I always do is to write down each chapter of the book I have to study on my bullet journal and how many pages it is so I can plan my studying more comfortably. If the chapters are very long, and divided in subchapters I sometimes also write those down.

The goal of the notes I write is to fully take the place of the book, so they tend to be very detailed and long. I do this because the very act of writing is part of my study method, and working on things I have written down in my own words is just much better for the type of learner I am. So basically I read the book only once, then it goes back on the shelf and I work exclusively on the notes. This means my notes need to be detailed and well organized.

My method is to read a chapter, underlining important stuff as I am reading, and then right after I am done reading I work on the notes for that chapter before moving onto the next. I do this because it makes the note writing more effortless, I am fresh with informations I just read and I basically just need to skim over what I have underlined.

On underlining, since it is so important. I underline everything I will be including in my notes, it might seem much as sometimes it consists of full paragraphs, instead of key words. But this is okay because my notes I don't just copy and paste.

To create useful notes you need to be re-elaborating the informations. You need to read, understand what you read, and be able to write it down using your own words. That way the notes will be easier to review, they will often be composed of shorter sentences, and by doing so you are also actively making writing part of your studying and not just a mindless activity.

Personally I don't work well with full pages summaries, I need the text to be visually broken into sentences/small paragraphs, and I use a lot of symbols as well as abbreviations.

Symbols and abbreviations are in a way part of your very own language when you are writing notes, you tend to develop these with time, but they are so useful. I personally use different types of arrows, all caps words, position of the text in the page, different methods of highlighting and abbreviations (usually for words that come up often like country names, for example Italy becomes ita, France becomes fr, etc.).

Your notes need to be useful for you, they don't have to necessarily be comprehensible for another person (which means you can and will fuck up sentence structure because sometimes skipping a couple of words makes the notes shorter and still understandable), and they do not have to be pretty. They should be as tidy as possible, but again that might change from person to person, I have some very messy looking notes that make total sense to me. With time you'll learn what works best for you.

I have a visual memory so as I mentioned titles, highlighters, all caps, the placement on the page and other similar things are very important in my notes. I cannot fully exapain some of these things because some definitely only make sense to me in the moment (like the words I choose to write in all caps, or the way I highlight things).

I like to have a clear chapter and subchapter break (so that in case I need to refer back to the book it's super effortless). I like to write those with a red pen, usually the chapter title is in all caps and the subchapter in coursive, but it really depends.

I use only two highlighters in each set of notes yellow for dates, and the colour I associate with the book/the subject of the book (I have synesthesia I don't make the rules when it comes to colours). This of course might change depending your preferences and on the element of your notes you want to focus on. I like to have spacific colour for dates and time periods, because of course while studying history that is a fundamental element. If you are focusing on other subjects you might want to have a specific colour for names, or other elements.

I like to leave a big side margin to add either key words (especially in lecture notes since they might be messier and jump around informations more often), or additional information in a second time (sometimes it happens, after you read another book, or attended a particular lecture you have to add a couple of sentences and I rather have a blank space that never gets used rather than no space at all for emergencies).

I honestly mentioned everything that came to mind right away, but since note writing is now basically a mindless skill I have been practicing for years I surely forgot about something. I might end up adding to this post in the future or write another one. My note-writing method has also changed a lot thought the years from high school to university, it's a skill I have been perfecting for the past decade. This to say that depending on what you are working on things might change, and by experimenting with different things you might find out things that work very well for you. If you have any questions on specific things I didn't mention or that wen't clear my inbox is always open and I am more than happy to help.

Since this post is already very very long I am adding the pictures below the cut

Example of a page of notes before and after highlighting

Example of symbols and structure of the notes and the way I highlight things (in which you'll hopefully be able to understand my handwriting, and in which there might be some spelling errors but alas that often happens in my real notes as well so if there are any it's for the sake of accuracy lmao). If I end up adding informations on the margins I always use a pen of a different color so I can tell which informations I got from what source (ex. main notes from lecture, colorful notes from additional article).

Example of messier notes in which the main text in black are the notes I took during lectures and the additional colorful text was added while writing the materials (I rarely do this, it usually happens when the lectures follow a book precisely, which happens when we have to study books or summaries written by the professor). As you can see I often use post it notes to add more writing space, and sometime I even use them to create visually separated sections. If I end up adding some drawings I also usually like to have them on post it notes so they stand out more (and if you are wondering why the hell would an history student need drawings it's usually either because I need a map or a region/state to mark things out, or when studying for archaeology exams I often needed visual references, for example to identify different types of vases or decorations).

[theheartcollecter]

Chapter 1: Revival

Fem Ghoul reader x Monster 141

Warnings for this chapter: torture, blood, cannibalism (lemme know if I missed any.)

You were turned into a ghoul about 2 months ago. Battling with urges to carnivore humans and fight rival ghouls. Your life had changed drastically since then, no more university or jobs, hell, you can’t even talk to friends or family the same.

You don’t remember how exactly you got here, in a secluded room. The walls and floors bare exactly for a single chair and the pool of blood forming around it. You eyes can barely stay open, when they do you star at the only light source in this huge room. The white light shows your life before, the people you met and human foods you ate.

Many people don’t know when exact the influx of ghouls started to appear in England, they just remember the stories. Mother and kids found dead after father cannibalizes them. Except they didn’t know it wasn’t cannibalism at the time, no, something much worse, a new form of monster. Ghouls in England began running rogue, eating anyone they pleased, and turning whoever the thought fit.

That’s how you ended up here. Wrists and feet tied to a chair, restraints beyond tight. You stopped making sounds of agony a while ago, the pain now numbing. Squelch! Another toe being cut off, forcing your body to replace it. Since you’re a fairly new ghoul, your body hasn’t gotten a hold of the whole immortal thing. Your new ghoul body takes longer than most to heal itself, which only makes it more agonizing.

You can hear a man laughing, or ghoul laughing, the one who brought you here. You forgot his name; useless information now. But you’ll never forget what he did or is doing to you. He’s cut all of your toes off by now, all forced to regrow. By the 15th one you stopped feeling it, which he was clearly amused by.

You feel something touch your hair lightly, “It’s white,” the man says, English accent cutting through your head. You open your eyes, cold sweat running down your face. “Your hair has turned white.” You glance down and, yes, he’s right. Your hair has indeed turned white, another thing added along with your freakish new powers.

You can’t find the words to complain so you just stare into his eyes, revenge now corrupting your mind. His eyes, a pale yellow, hair blonde, and brown suit. Must be 6ft or taller, typical muscular build, maybe late 40s.

You don’t know if you’ll survive this, not sure how long it will take, how many more things he can cut until your body stops regrowing them.

It’s like god hearing your prayers, a guardian angel coming to save you as you hear someone kick at the door. It only takes a few kicks to get it to collapse onto the floor. The male ghoul in front of you is blocking your view, you can’t see who’s come to, hopefully, save you.

“Hmm, who are you?” The male ghoul says, amusement lacing his voice. You try to say something, anything, you open your mouth but no sound comes out.

“Task Force 141, remember the name.” An English man says, before you see them, rushing towards the ghoul. Four men, two with, is that wings? A wolf hybrid, and a giant with a mask on. They all wear protective gear, guns and knives, and the wolf is wearing a …choker?

The ghoul tenses, amusement gone. He steps back before his kagune, a ghouls predatory organ that functions as their weapon, comes out. You think he’s about to fight them before he rushes towards the side of the building, crashing through the wall into the night.

You turn back to your saviors, getting a good look at them, but not for long. The loss of blood must’ve got to you, your eyes slowly close and before you know it you’ve passed out. The last thing you feel is being untied and picked up into big, warm, arms.

A/n: AHHH, this is my first time ever writing something like this, so don’t bash me too hard.🙈 I wrote this with the anime Tokyo Ghoul in mind, but I think I explained enough to make it make sense without knowing the anime. But please know this whole series (if it gets that far) will be heavily based on the anime. If you have a suggestions to make my writing better, please let me know!

[demonic0angel]

OWO, you take prompts? How about this?

Danny was born a premature and with a heart defect. The Fenton's try to make a clone so they can get his heart transplanted without fear of organ rejection. But they end up making a full on baby and don't have it in them to kill another version of their son just to save their original boy. Danny ends up pulling through and the clone gets filed as a twin that no one noticed was still in when Maddie was in the hospital. So Maddie "had him at home" and went back so he could be medically examined. The new parents feel ashamed of what they initially were going to do and give the child to a cousin who couldn't conceive.

Tim Drake doesn't know he's adopted until a DNA test reveals that the 'Meta' running around Gotham is his 'twin brother'. And the babies he has, that he does babysitting gigs with, are his twin's 'children'.

(I don’t exactly take prompts, but I don’t mind if you send them. Also, I’m going to assume that the twin’s “children” are Dan and Dani, since that seems to be what people prefer.)

“… are you serious?” Tim asked through the phone.

“Yep,” Dick said, sounding like a mixture of amusement and concern, “How do you feel about it?”

Tim thought about it and then responded, “I guess it makes sense why my parents neglected me so much, since I’m adopted.”

“Awww, baby bird…”

“I’m fine, Dick,” Tim said. He picked Dante and set him on a baby chair. Said child stared at him with electric blue eyes, scowling with his pudgy cheeks as if he wanted to tear Tim apart with his nonexistent teeth. Tim rubbed his chubby cheek with a finger before moving away, still holding the phone to his ear as he picked up the other baby.

Dick continued, “Yeah… also, Bruce says that he’s sorry that he checked your blood without telling you.”

Tim snorted, “No, he didn’t.” Bruce was never sorry for that kind of stuff.

Dick sighed. “Yeah, I lied. Sorry. But he did look guilty! He didn’t want to tell you at first, but Jason convinced him so I’m the one telling you right now.”

Tim hummed, picking up little Ella, who was stubbornly holding onto a small cardboard box. Tim let her hold it and placed her onto the baby chair next to her brother, who immediately reached out for her. It was kinda funny seeing how clingy he was compared to his sister.

“We have more information too. We tracked down the new meta and we’ve been looking into his routes. We suspect that he’s living around here, in Bristol,” Dick said. “We think he’s living in an apartment, at XXX on XXXX street, possibly with a roommate named Jazz.”

Tim paused, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was in the same building, babysitting a bunch of kids on the same street, who also lived with another woman named Jazz. “Uhh. What else?”

“We think he lives on the third floor and possibly also works at a pizza delivery place? Or maybe a fast food restaurant? He’s been flying back and forth between two places besides the apartment.”

Tim began to sweat. “Uh… anything else?”

“There’s a high chance that his name is Danny Nightingale, and Jasmine Nightingale is in on the fact that he’s a meta.”

Fuck.

Tim looked at his niece and nephew with a new light, eyes wide. Ella beamed at him, giggling while Dante just glared.

Welp. At least Bruce would be happy to be a grandfather now. Even if it was to Tim’s secret meta twin brother.

[disdaidal]

I'm already starting to regret that I joined yet another Discord server.

[hungergameshyperfixation]

Not to be that person but Panem had nearly 75 full Hunger Games before their system of government was overthrown. 75(+?) years. But things changed in the end. This too shall pass (but not without active participation)

[floral-hex]

Depending on how the next few hours go, my mom might be getting a new liver this morning. It’s one of those things she won’t know for sure until they actually wheel her into pre-op, so… we’ll see!

[aeide-thea]

dipping my toe into fandom discourse here, which is never a great idea, but—i really am baffled by the contingent of fans who apparently want AO3 to not only denounce but ban AI-generated works, as if there were any reliable way to distinguish between mediocre writing produced by a human and mediocre writing produced by an AI…?

[hua-fei-hua]

when i was a kid i really resented the fact that my mom kept forcing us to check out nonfiction books alongside our fantasy novels in order to "broaden our minds" and basically ensure we were learning Real Factsies(tm), but now that i'm older, if i don't go off and learn some Real Factsies(tm) every so often, then i'll end up finding my fictions dull and uninspired

[viksalos]

another day another instance of getting too personally irritated by a take on here and/or thinking i have some unique insight to offer, writing an impassioned essay, realizing i’m ultimately just talking about myself bc i have no other perspective to speak from, and shoving it in the drafts never to see the light of day

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

my brain is leaking out of my ears fam, these last two and a half weeks of school are going to be ROUGH

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[newwave-lesbian]

i feel like i should make an about but every time i try to do that i literally put so much useless information. like catch me making an about and then explaining every detail of my life like anybody asked. all you need to know about me though is how much i love 80s music and the hit 80s jazz funk band level 42

[getvalentined]

An open letter to @staff

I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.

The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.

Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.

This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.

This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.

Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.

You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.

Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.

This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.

You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.

The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.

You can do so much better than this.

Response to the Update

Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.

I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.

Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.

People read it that way because that is what you said.

*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:

136,635 votes breaks down thusly:

An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)

Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)

This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)

[unforth]

Gentle reminder that very little fandom labor is automated, because I think people forget that a lot.

That blog with a tagging system you love? A person curates those tags by hand.

That rec blog with a great organization scheme and pretty graphics? Someone designed and implemented that organization scheme and made those graphics.

That network that posts a cool variety of stuff? People track down all that variety and queue it by hand, and other people made all the individual pieces.

That post with umpteen links to helpful resources, and information about them? Someone gathered those links, researched the sources, wrote up the information about them.

That graphic about fandom statistics? Someone compiled those statistics, analyzed them, organized them, figured out a useful way to convey the information to others, and made the post.

That event that you think looks neat? Someone wrote the rules, created the blogs and Discords, designed the graphics, did their best to promo the event so it'd succeed.

None of this was done automatically. None of it just appears whole out of the internet ether.

I think everyone realizes that fic writing and fanart creation are work, and at least some folks have got it through their heads that gif creation and graphics and moodboards take effort, and meta is usually respected for the effort that goes into it, at least as far as I've seen, but I feel like a lot of people don't really get how much labor goes into curation, too.

If people are creating resources, curating content, organizing the creations of others, gathering information, and doing other fandom activities that aren't necessarily the direct action of creation, they're doing a lot of fandom labor, and it's often largely unrecognized.

Celebrate fan work!

To folks doing this kind of labor: I see you, and I thank you. You are the backbones of our fandoms and I love you.

[luveline]

could you write bau!reader x aaron, reader is pregnant and baby is so restless and kicking a lot as reader is at her desk working and aaron is the only one who can calm baby down

ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader, 1k

“Woh,” you mumble, almost clipping your head on your desk as you lean forward. “Oh, my gosh.” 

“What’s wrong, mama?” 

You wave your free hand weakly at Derek, the other to your bump. “Nothing’s wrong, handsome.” 

Derek laughs warmly and stands from his chair. “I don’t believe you. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Or I’ll go get the big man and he can force it out of you himself.” 

Hotch’s never forced anything out of you, but he has kissed a confession from you before. He could do it again easily. 

You right yourself as the baby’s rampant kicking makes you feel as though you’ll pee your pants. “Derek, there’s some crazy stuff happening inside of me right now.” 

He smiles at you fondly. “I bet there is.” 

“She’s kicking the shit out of me.” Sitting up, your back twinges and relaxes, the weight of your baby bump spreading out. You’re very pregnant and the baby is extremely active. She kicks pretty much 24/7 these last few days, and it’s driving you crazy. “Do you wanna feel?” 

Derek presents his hand for feeling. You stand up, and Derek lays a hand across your bump. You don’t have to move it anywhere: the second he touches you, he can no doubt feel the baby’s aggressiveness. She’s aiming her little feet almost like she knows where your most fragile organs are. 

One rough kick has Derek taking back his hand. “She’s beating you up, mama.” 

“She hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Spencer says, twirling in his chair to give one of his innocuous tidbits of information, “babies kick for all sorts of reasons. They kick when they’re hungry, or after you’ve just eaten because of the extra glucose shared via the placenta. Sometimes they kick because they can feel sensation through your skin.” 

Spencer stands up. You raise your brows. “You wanna feel?” you ask. 

He grins and offers his hand. You take it and place it against the baby’s restless feet, smiling at Spencer’s smile, a little enchanted by how fascinated he seems. At Spencer’s touch, she starts to kick quickly like she had been with Derek, and eventually you have to move his hand in the hopes she’ll stop. She slows, but the occasional stretch pokes at your stomach. You can see the distension of her limb even through your shirt. 

“She’s really going for it today,” you say. “Maybe I had too much brown sugar in my oatmeal.” 

“You know babies can tell the difference between hands?” Spencer asks. 

“I sort of guessed,” you say distractedly, rubbing at the baby’s kicking with the crest of your palm. “She doesn’t act like this with Hotch.” 

“Good to know he has that effect on everyone,” Derek says with a laugh. 

“I might go and ask him to make her stop. I’m gonna need a change of clothes if she doesn’t.” 

Derek laughs again, full-bellied, his arm wrapping around your shoulders in a pitying hug. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll be okay. Just two more months and this will all be over.” 

“Well, you never know. The longest overdue pregnancy in human history was almost a hundred days, that’s more than an extra three months.” 

“Spencer!” you say, not truly shouting, but your volume escaping you as the horror of a year long pregnancy sinks in. “Don’t jinx me.” 

Your loud voice, or perhaps Derek’s roaring laughter, draws the attention of JJ and Hotch, who appear from the depths of his office with matching curious expressions. JJ begins down the steps to the bullpen, while Hotch stays at the balcony waiting for an explanation. 

“Baby Hotchner’s giving it large,” Derek says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“She won’t stop,” you complain, relieved to see your stern husband. “Can you come and set her straight?” 

You aren’t always so quick to complain to him, but this is too much. It feels as though she’s about to start doing spin kinks against your spine —it’s honestly the most she’s ever moved. When you were just a few weeks pregnant you’d longed for her to wriggle and show you a sign that she could feel you, but now you’d appreciate a few minutes of calm. 

Hotch follows JJ down obligingly, and he, surrounded by your curious coworkers and colleagues, without any hesitation (but certainly some care), slips his hand under your blouse to feel at his baby’s sharp kicking. He presses against what might be a foot for a few moments, his smile barely hidden, his palm warm. 

“She really is giving it large,” he says, the deep softness of his voice like a signal. 

The baby’s kicks soften, until, barely ten seconds later, they stop. Your spine ceases vibrating, and you can finally stand there without having to press your thighs together. 

“Thank you,” you say, holding Hotch’s elbow. He’s well and truly saved you. 

He rubs your stomach with his thumb. His dark eyes stay set on your bump. “You’re welcome.” 

“I guess baby just missed her dad,” JJ says. 

You look at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything. “No correction?” you ask. 

“No,” he says, pouting that you’d ask. “Either she missed the sound of his voice, or your reaction to seeing him has calmed her down. That’s not a big difference.” 

“It’s both, I think,” you say, paused by a big yawn. 

“Are you tired?” Hotch asks. 

“Urgently.” You let yourself sag forward toward him, gesturing for Spencer, Derek and JJ to look away. “Thanks for your help, boys, but I need something no one else can give me.” You collapse into Hotch’s chest for a hug. 

The bump is very much in the way, but he reacts accordingly, ushering your chest to his, cheek pressed gently to your forehead. “She’s exhausted you,” he teases under his breath. 

“She really has.” 

“I love how she settles with me,” he says, rubbing your back for a long, slow handful of seconds, before he pulls away enough to grin at you. “But I suppose she gets that from her mother.” 

“You’re very calming.” 

“So I’ve been told.” 

[bunnys-kisses]

the jailbird

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

a full fic based on this post

cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!

it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.

you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.

that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.

but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.

the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.

you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.

you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.

simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.

he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.

you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.

the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.

he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.

he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."

he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.

simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.

"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."

simon remembered everything.

the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.

"i want to be what you get ready to."

"i want to be with you when you wake up."

"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."

you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.

and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.

you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!

it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.

and then you saw him.

those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.

you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."

he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."

you beamed up at him, "of course, si."

"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."

you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.

but tonight was just going to be the two of you.

you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.

you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.

"si."

"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.

your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.

he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.

you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.

you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.

it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.

you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.

after everything, you had your man.

he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.

you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."

"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.

you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.

"are you alright, love?"

"golden."

the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.

you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.

"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."

you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.

he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."

you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.

the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.

you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.

he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.

you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.

he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.

you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."

he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."

part two