#( v: imagine me and you. )

[vvvvvvvvvvw]

[krusified]

okay but imagine vampire!cate…..like HEAR ME OUT!!

like imagine her becoming all clingy because she wants to feed off of you….

her burying her face in your neck while pathetically whining, waiting for you to grant her permission ):

you eventually give in (she threatened you)

she is obsessed with the idea of turning you into one of her. she would always try to persuade you, however, she isn’t all that convincing 😭

“we would totally make a hot vampire couple though?”

i think her favorite body part of yours would be your thighs. like anytime you guys are alone she would always lay her head on your lap and leave little bit marks

[lightbulb-warning]

shit man he's downright POSTITNOTE'D

[writingbyshiloh]

Nosebleed

Request: hello! good morning/afternoon/night! I was wondering if I could request something from jordan li x fem!reader (established relationship), something like the reader is very very clingy and shy, she is stuck with them all day and it is very strange not to see them together, and Jordan becomes very soft only with her. Maybe Marie's reaction like she was surprised that someone like Jordan could be so soft. Obviously only if you feel comfortable!

AN: I realized when editing I missed some of the prompt but I did get an established relationship w soft Jordan in front of Marie. Still working in the 3k fic but I wanted to do something short and sweet.

CW: Nose bleeds and descriptions of blood, no beta

WC: 0.7k

The situation may feel claustrophobic but the spaced-out seating makes you feel comfortable. Jordan is sitting your your left, Marie to your right for some fun first-year elective about Voughts CEO - Ashley 101. You and Jordan are taking it as a GPA booster. 

To you, Marie is a bonus. You recognized her on the second day of class and called her over, offering a seat next to you. Seating was a free-for-all, especially with most people blowing off this class, but you like her company. It was nice to sit and talk with her before class started. Jordan didn’t feel the same way but kept their opinion to themselves.

“I heard Ashley and the director of the Dwan of the Seven had an affair,” you say, pulling your notebook out of your bag and a few pens. Jordan doesn’t respond past a noncommittal hum, but Marie is wide-eyed in fascination. 

“Emma’s mom told her that Ashley trying to make a documentary about her life,” Marie tells you. You cock your head to the side. 

“Emma’s your roommate right?” you ask. You've heard Merie talk about an Emma but you can’t figure out who she is. You feel Jordan subtly nudge your arm with your elbow, but you ignore them. 

“Yeah. She's in the Crimson Countess school of acting.” Marie says. 

“She’s in Counting.” Jordan pips up. You press your foot against theirs in a silent warning to leave Marie alone. 

Marie shifts in her seat slightly, eyes narrowing in slightly on yours. You can see her thinking, mind racing. What Jordan said is a dick move because no way a first-year would know specific Godolkin slang, it's not horrific. 

“You have a nosebleed.” She tells you, quickly and quietly. You touch your thumb to your nostril to check. Your thumb comes away clean, and you frown slightly. Twisting in your seat, you face Jordan, wanting them to examine your face. 

Hyperaware of your nose you can start to feel the blood slowly trickle down and out. You’re sure your eyes are wide in shock trying to stop the nosebleed by holding your finger up to stench the flow of blood. Your plan is failing, crimson liquid trickling down your finger. 

“Babe! Are you okay?” Jordan asks softly, not wanting to draw attention to you. The pet name and softness probably seem out of place to Marie. 

“I have tissues in the outer pocket of my bag,” you say, twisting your hand so your mouth is free you try to speak. Jordan's eyes flick from your face to behind your shoulder to Marie. 

You feel your bag be tugged by your feet but ignore it. Jordan pulls your arm away slowly, eyes narrowing in on your nose and lips. The bleeding has slowed but you still feel a small swell of blood hit your lips. 

The pack of tissues slides in front of you to Jordan. They take one from the crinkling packet and press it against your nose. With their free hand, they manoeuvre yours to hold the tissue in place. 

Gently, they place their hand on your chin, tilting your face up. You frown at the coppery taste now in the back of your throat and the warm sensation there. 

“You tilt down for a nosebleed.” Marie corrects. Out of the three of you, she would have the most experience you assume. Jordan follows through, hand now on the back of your neck tipping your face forwards, allowing the blood to flow out of your nose easier. You try to wipe the blood of off your lips with a clean tissue. 

“Thanks, Marie.” You say kindly, sneaking a peak at her under Jordan’s hold. She nods and flashes you a tight smile. You worry it's because she thinks you’re weirded out that she told you you’re bleeding. But then you see her eyes dart to Jordan and that makes more sense. You forgot Jordan in public varies from the Jordan you get to see.  

“Thanks, Jord.” You move your head back to Jordan, angle funny as you’re looking up from where they’re holding you. Under the desk, you feel their fingers twisting around yours, squeezing in a silent you’re welcome. 

[gwynfahr]

Just imagine :

A frat party mostly filled with freshmen just out of high school, Jordan's here for the free booze and drugs honestly, but then their eyes land on you, so fucking hot in that tight little outfit. You look so fucking innocent when you cough a bit at the taste of the drink your friend has given you.

In their masc form, he follows your moves as you then proceed to smoke weed for what totally seems to be the first time.

That's when the corruption kink really kicks in. Jordan wants you, wonders how you'd look with your pretty glossy lips parted as you moaned his name while he fucked you into oblivion. Thinks about your manicured nails raking against her back when she'd finger you until you saw god. The way you'd beg for them to stop for a bit because it's too much, you can't come anymore.

They want you without even having talked to you, and they're gonna get you...

You'll be screaming their name by the end of the night.

[grimesgirll]

hands bound behind your back, you don’t know why you thought you could get away with trying to poison negan.

“you ready to apologize yet?”

you haven’t said a word to negan since he plucked you out of your house after discovering your plot, blindfolding you, tying your hands behind your back, and fucking deporting you to the sanctuary for an indefinite period of time. yeah, you’re not wasting your breath on an apology.

the salt and pepper haired man doesn’t break eye contact with you. it’s a shame. you’d never say it out loud but negan's pretty attractive.

“darlin’, you almost took me out. with a fucking quiche!"

lips poised in a permanent frown, you stay silent. negan's not having this.

he draws a breath, drumming his fingers on the metal table. "silent act. expected that." he reaches under the table to yield that damn baseball bat. "you remember lucille, right?" you give the bare minimum of a nod when he barks your name. "you also remember putting anthrax powder in a quiche and serving it up to me, huh?"

your stare hardens. you really hadn't expected to get caught - hadn't expected that you'd be in this position in your wildest dreams. all because you wanted your freedom back.

"i gotta ask, where did you get the anthrax? that shit is hard to come by."

like i'd tell you, you snark in your head. this was not the time to relay the story of how you'd snuck out of alexandria for a night to hoof it up to a government building complex and scour the shelves of their lab for whatever sinister bioweapons had been left behind once the dead started walking.

"because if that was you, that would make you an extremely valuable asset.” his hand lands on lucille again. "i wouldn't mind having someone around to procure hard to find things like that for me.”

you give him another blank stare. why the fuck would you come to live and procure for the sanctuary? who does he think you are? the flair of your frustration is saved once again by your taciturn lips.

before you know it lucille is below your chin and you’re tilting your head back.

“what the fuck, negan?” you mumble, doing your best to stay still with the bloodstained bat in front of you.

“there we go,” he croons, hazel eyes demanding eye contact. “knew lucille could get you talkin’. girl to girl.”

you roll your eyes. “you caught me, negan. i’m not here to talk.”

“you wanna make me dinner every night, don’t ya’?”

you go tight lipped again.

“well, fat chance. i don’t trust your cooking anymore - no matter how delicious that quiche looked.”

exhaling, you squirm in your restraints. his antics are already tearing at your paper thin patience when he asks, “so, how are you gonna make it up to me, sweetheart?”

“send me home.” you plead. “i’ll go on supply runs for whatever you need - just don’t keep me here.”

“no, i want you here with me.” negan expresses, muscles tensing through his jacket. he drops lucille to the side. “you know, i think you’ll be a lot more useful here.”

you shake your head, confused as he leans down to begin undoing your restraints. “i don’t know how i could be here.”

a grin graces his lips. “don’t worry, doll, i know.”

your eyes widen at the implication when he adjusts his pants and the vitriol is coming back up again like word vomit.

“i wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, negan.”

you don’t expect him to burst into laughter.

“don’t lie to me, you’re not very good at it. i can tell you that.”

your face twists with a mixture of embarrassment and disgust. you’re disgusted with yourself for the eye contact you’re making with his groin.

“oh, i know you wanna, darlin’, don’t be shy.”

the binds that tied you to the chair fall away. you rub your wrists and observe as negan stalks across the room to the bed of all places. he sits on the plush mattress, legs spread.

“it’s up to you.” he shrugs. “you can deny yourself and stay in that chair and i can call for someone to take you down to the cells or….,”

all negan does is snicker when you begin working off his belt.

“i knew you would be a good girl for me,” negan confirms with a gentle hand guiding the back of your head as you take him into your hand and envelope him into your mouth.

filthy noises fill the air as negan takes his time fucking your mouth. at first he let you go at your own pace, lick up and down, devote time to the nerve endings at the tip of his cock, but one accidental gag from you and suddenly your nose is flush against his pelvis.

“yeah, baby, fuck i knew that mouth could do great things.”

you can only gag in response around him, doing your best to swallow and fight the burn but negan isn’t doing you any favors. he rolls his hips into your face, savoring the pure bliss that is your mouth.

“love seein’ those perfect fucking lips wrapped around my cock. wanted to see you like this from the first moment i saw you.” negan breathes with a hand dug into your hair.

his words shouldn’t be turning you on - not in the slightest. however, you start to feel a tingle beneath you and a pressure in your core. it doesn’t fade as you keep your jaw slack enough for the man to almost send his cock down your throat.

his thick length is cutting off your airway but for some reason your pussy is growing slicker beneath you. despite fighting off the coughing and trying to fit as much of negan’s larger - and girthier - dick into your mouth, you’re getting turned on by this farce.

you finally get into a rhythm and that’s when negan decides it’s time for the next course.

“‘kay, enough of that,” negan declares as he lets you up off of him.

before you know it, you’re sandwiched beside him on the plush, soft bed. you don’t have time to appreciate the satin pillowcase beneath your head because negan is yanking at your pant legs. “gotta get these off,” and soon he’s scraping down your panties. negan is on his elbows next to you and toying with your entrance when you squeeze your eyes shut.

you gasp when a finger’s inserted into you, then another with no warning.

“shit, baby. can’t believe you’re clenchin’ around just my fingers, babe.” negan remarks and curls his two digits, relishing in the way your face contorts at his every movement.

his firm fingers delve deeper into you, taking advantage of your exhales. every movement further screws you open and each wet noise paints your face an even deeper shade of red. the notion of caring gets lost when negan begins to play with your clit.

“gettin’ a lady boner, are ya’?” negan is sure to pay extra close attention to your sensitive nub. the pads of his fingers are instrumental in bringing on the wave of pleasure that overtakes you as you feel yourself let go in negan’s arms.

you’re so wrapped up in your orgasm that you barely notice his dick growing rock hard again between you.

your hands are on his chest, not banging against him like you should be but holding on for dear life as he edges his cock closer to your entrance. the breath leaves your chest when he begins to replace his fingers with his thick cock.

“negan!”

“oh, aren’t you a tight little thing.”

despite you being so “tight”, you still felt like you were being stretched out - no, impaled on his cock and he’s only a few inches in yet.

“you got a boyfriend, baby? not that it matters,” negan questions with an amused look as you struggle to contain your composure between him and his cock bullying into you.

“no,” you croak.

“good.” negan utters the word with a thrust. “couldn’t imagine sharin’ this pussy. not that i’d have to.”

you let out a tiny yelp and your breathing accelerates as he pushes in another inch further. it’s out of your control when he drives the rest of him into you and desperate for any kind of stability, you clutch at negan, not just with your hands on his broad shoulders.

“fuck! pussy feels like it was made for me, babe.”

if you were clearheaded, you would be mortified by the situation, but as long as negan resolves the pressure building up in your core again, he could tell you the two of you are moving to mars for all you care.

“please, negan.”

“what was that?”

“please!” you repeat and plead, over and over until his hips are flush with yours.

an accidental brush of his heavy head against your cervix has you whimpering into negan’s mouth when he takes a break from massaging your breast to kiss you. the heat is everywhere — it’s in your mouth, negan’s mouth, your core, all over.

“fuck, did you just come?”

you simply bury your face into his shoulder. thoughts fucked away, you struggle to register much else besides the mess you’ve made between your thighs.

“yeah, baby, you’re too horny not to have been thinking about this the entire ride here.”

your face lights up with shame - he‘s right. negan had wormed his way into your thoughts like a prion into your brain. every night since the handsome psycho first came around to collect your mattresses and firearms, you’d found yourself wishing he’d return your mattress to you personally just to fuck you into it.

“ugh, gonna have this sweet little pussy molded into the shape of my cock,” negan’s declaring between heavy swats to your rear.

“fuck,” you’re stuttering. “slow down!”

“how? this pussy’s just sucking me in.” negan exclaims, punctuating his words with another spank.

you’re white knuckling the bedsheets as your newest enemy pounds the thoughts out of you. you can’t even try to factor this encounter into your escape plan. the only thing on your mind should be the best way to manipulate the man jackhammering into you right now. but you can’t help but be affected by just how deep inside of you negan is; how he’s squeezing every filthy dumb whore noise out of you and hitting every nerve ending you have down there.

you guess this is better than your community being terrorized. maybe you can convince negan to give everyone their mattresses back.

glimpsing at him, negan is in ecstasy being balls deep in you right now.

and you’re no better.

disappearing in plain sight, you’re getting fucked from the inside out and being tipped into your third orgasm of the night. guilty pleasure coursing through you as you feel boneless. even more so when you feel a warmth pouring into you. barely recognizing the desperate whines that come out of you, you’re shifting your hips to meet his as negan fucks you through both of your orgasms.

coming back to earth, you gulp when you realize that he’s come inside of you. he has to be humane enough to allow you a plan b pill or something; this place is sordid enough, you know they have a stash pile of contraceptives somewhere.

the man slips out of you, spent after fucking your overloaded pussy senseless.

“want a cigarette? i think you deserve one after that.”

you glare at him. “no. i want to go back to alexandria and for you and your goons to fuck off.”

his hairy chest rises with laughter. he reaches for a pack of menthols and a lighter on the nightstand. “doll, you think you’re goin’ somewhere?” he shakes his salt and peppered head. “you and your people are gonna produce for me. got it?”

close lipped, you return his cocky grin with a death glare and crossed arms over your chest.

that doesn’t last long.

the man entraps you in his arms, wrapping them around you and bundling you up to his chest. he starts to ruffle your hair. “i really think you’re gonna wanna stay here.”

“fat chance, negan.”

“oh, honey,” he croons. “i’m not gonna give you a choice.” he whistles. “your grade a piece of ass isn’t walkin’ out of these gates anytime soon.”

[starqueensthings]

So here’s this...

Cody told Crosshair that he requested him specifically as soon as he was cleared for duty.

Then he IMMEDIATELY says “word is, the rest of Clone Force 99 went rogue after Order 66 came through.”

Would it be completely out of leftfield to HC that Cody wanted Crosshair for this mission, thinking that they could go rogue together and disappear? Knowing that he is deeply beginning to question things, and he thinks Cross might be too? Like maybe Cody was very slyly looking for help getting the eff outta there and thought Crosshair might be the best option because his squad had already defected and disappeared, and he might have some tips or a plan?

Only for Crosshair to stomp out hope with his whole “then they’re traitors like the Jedi?” bs.

So Cody just goes “oh shit right yeah good soldiers follow orders yup yup. Fuck.”

[mewkwota]

"One of Lan's most prized possessions."

Very shortly after my previous deal over the photo on Yuichiro's desk, I learned there was in fact one more photo of Hub when he was still alive and it hit me in the most perfect way possible.

(The best part is you can actually see it.)

This is also what I get for wanting to draw something out of my mind in a sobbing frenzy, only for a whole bunch of my questions to get answered. I am so happy. ( ; v;)

[shitpostingkats]

Literally the most insane thing yugioh ever did was make Yuya Sakaki taller than Yusaku. There's this theatre girly with sparkly roller skates and trauma and she can just casually rest her elbow on the shoulder of one of the most wanted criminals in cyberspace.

[heartfullofleeches]

V with reader that gives him head every times he wins a game, no excuses

"....Any game?"

"Any game."

"Hang on." V closes out of the first-person shooter on screen, bypassing all the games on the desktop and opening a new web page. He types something up and pulls up a website for online jigsaw puzzles. He set the round to easy, fishing his dick free from his slacks before the last piece isn't even in place. Confetti flies across the screen as a mark of his victory.

"Any game. Got the high score for today too, so why don't you take your shirt off as well."

Clever bitch. You slide out of your chair and down on your knees, tossing your shirt aside. V measures his length to the side of your face as he works himself to full erection, rubbing against your cheek. Your tongue flicks the underside of his cock as he moves it over your lip. His eyes shift between the hand clinching your jaw and your bare chest.

"So... it cool if I took a pic to remember the this?"

Your stare is all the answer he needs. He shutters at the way your eyes pierce through him. Refusing to let you get the better of him, V shifts his hold to the back of your head and rolls his tip over your tongue as you open your mouth for him. He eases his way in, the new sensation already too much and addicting for him to bare. He grunts as your lips graze his flesh, cheeks hollow as you take the initiative and push your head down his girth. Spit trickles as you work your way back to the tip, only to swallow his dick once more.

"shit... just like that.. you tease me so much I worried you were joking. So fucking glad you weren't."

His tip swabs the inside of your cheek as he thrusts forward, both hands now on your head - the wet drags along his cock and your combined moans flooding the room.

"We should've made this deal when I first moved in.. Could've had this every night. You better keep your promise after this"

You roll your eyes, drowning him out by focusing on the task at hand. His fingers tangled in your hair pull your head back and allow easier access for his cock to hit the back of your throat. Your nose brushes against his abdomen as he holds you there, drooling as he rocks into your mouth. He flattens his hands to avoid clawing at your skull as he pants louder, pre-cum slick on your tongue. He faults with a sharp breath as he comes down your throat, feeling you tighten as you swallow his load.

"That's... swallow it all, kitten." V pulls back and out of your mouth with an audible pop, slumping back in his chair. He doesn't let you go just yet, running his sensitive head over your lips with pleading eyes. Rolling your eyes again, you give it a small kiss as he reaches over and grabs your discarded shirt.

He cleans your face with it, kissing your forehead as he strokes your jaw. "I love you so much...." He sits up, clicking away on the mouse. "There's nothing I want more than to kiss you right now, but with my head clear I think I'm in the mood for another puzzle."

[thegoldenavenger]

imposter? you always have been.

[genderqueerpositivity]

The latest dispute to reach a federal appeals court arose when parents Stephen Foote and Marissa Silvestri sued a range of government entities and officials affiliated with the Ludlow, Massachusetts public schools. The lawsuit alleges that during the 2020-2021 school year, their child approached a teacher about feelings of depression, low self-esteem and possible attraction to the same gender. The teacher spoke with the child’s mother, who responded that she was getting the child professional help and asked school staff not to have private conversations with the child.

The child, who was 11 at the time, then sent an email to school personnel self-identifying as genderqueer and announcing a new name and list of preferred pronouns. The school counselor responded with an email to staff stating that, consistent with a policy sanctioned by the Ludlow School Committee, they should not use the new preferred name and pronouns when communicating with the parents. Around the same time, the child’s sibling, who was then 12 years old, also began using a different name. The school did not tell the parents.

The parents sued, alleging that the defendants violated three different rights derived from the 14th Amendment: (1) their fundamental parental rights to direct the education and upbringing of their children, (2) their fundamental right to direct medical and mental health decision-making for their children, and (3) their fundamental right to “familial privacy” and “family integrity.”

None of these rights are expressly identified in the Constitution. All of them stem from the same aspect of the 14th Amendment that produced the original decision in Roe v. Wade — “substantive” due process. The Supreme Court, of course, has now overturned that decision, leaving open the question of which constitutional rights stemming from the 14th Amendment will now prevail and which won’t.

[fatedroses]

Chance encounters in Costa del Sol.

[skitskatdacat63]

2009 Brazilian Grand Prix - Jenson Button

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[constantlyfeelsick]

Me when the urge to read and analyse Blake's work to get a deeper insight into Vergil (+ V and Urizen) but I'm bad at reading into deeper meaning, finding similar themes, parallels between subjects and applying my knowledge to a bigger picture