#a late bloomer?

[hallowxiu]

if anyone is willing to listen, i'd like to vent/rant under the read more.

This is a little different from what I usually post, but it's been eating at me for a while. I'm also not good at explaining things like this, so I'm sorry in advance, I might jump around a lot.

Basically, I'm bisexual. That's not a secret, but also not really the point, more so it's just context. I'm twenty-six years old, and I'll be turning twenty-seven this month, and out of my almost twenty-seven years, I haven't felt romantic attraction towards anyone since my freshman year of high school when I was around 15/16. This is something that frustrates me as I see my friends and peers getting into romantic relationships, and I want to be in one too.

However, when I meet someone and begin talking to them (usually through dating apps) I start to feel... detached? I'll flirt, exchange numbers, even set up dates, but nearly the entire time I don't really feel anything, but I hope that I might eventually feel something down the road. I usually end up ghosting the person because I know it's wrong to string someone along and I feel bad about it.

I know realistically, somewhat shitty self-esteem aside, I'm not undesirable. There are men who are interested in me, and there are women who are interested in me too. And yet, I have never been in a serious romantic relationship. I want it, but I don't. It's such an odd feeling.

I know I'm capable of liking someone; I know this isn't something that I can't feel at all. I actually had strong romantic feelings for one of my coworkers (this was around 2021-2022) for about a year, and even tried to pursue it, but it didn't work out. But, aside from that, I haven't felt romantic feelings for anyone like that since. I'm starting to worry that something is wrong with me. Why can't I be like everyone else around me and just chose someone from a dating app, go on a few dates, and then get into a relationship with them? Why do I have to make things so complicated for myself?

I don't think my standards are too high. I used to joke about it, but the coworker I had feelings for was really not anything to write home about (I really don't mean this in an insulting way; they just didn't put a lot of effort into things). So instead, for the last few months, I've just been on dating apps, talking to only one to two guys at a time, exchanging numbers, getting to know them, and then ultimately deciding that no, despite them being cute, I'm not romantically attracted to them and it goes nowhere. But I keep repeating this in hopes it'll get me somewhere.

Currently, I'm suspicious that one of my coworkers (a different one) likes me. A few of my other coworkers hint at it, and I just hope that said coworker never makes a move or brings it up. I like them as a friend; we have a lot in common, but I'm uncomfortable thinking about them in a romantic way. Once again, this is really frustrating to me, because we have so much in common, and I don't think they're bad looking at all, that I should be excited at this possibility. But I'm not.

I'm not afraid of intimacy for the most part, and I do want to eventually be in a relationship. I know that. I don't know if I'm asking for advice, if I'm just writing this to let it all out, or a mix of both. All I know is that I'm almost twenty-seven and I'm still no closer to figuring myself out than when I was sixteen, and that's something that's extremely frustrating to me.

[laviejaguardia]

personally victimized by this show's soundtrack choices

[butchersmiles]

"darwinism" has to be one of the more gut-wrenching songs on the album. the terror and bitterness in the line "you all grew body parts that i fear i'll never grow/you all know something that i don't"... it literally made me SICK the first time i heard it.

[originalartblog]

does this count as angst or

companion piece for this Storm Bringer AU here

[hinata-boke]

comparing these panels im shocked at how much tinier first year bokuto looks

[summerwages]

splendor in the grass...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Late Bloomer 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, Steve Rogers (Professor AU)

Summary: you start your second year of university but as the workload grows more intense, you start to feel your age. (mid-30s reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

You are as ever painfully early. It's a habit that often leaves you wandering or hovering awkwardly. You check your watch as you come up to the steps of the century-old building. You are in dread of your physics class but it turns out that all the easy electives fill up fast. 

Before you can start the ascent, there's a scuff of steps from the other side. The breadth of the stairs nearly spans a third of the grand facade. You glance over as a young man with a messenger bag rushes up the first few steps only to trip and sprawl over the concrete stairs with an oomph. Without hesitation, you rush over as he groans and clatters back to the bottom. 

"Oh my gosh, are you alright?" You scoop up the phone that flew from his hand, seemingly the cause of his accident.  

He grunts and struggles to turn himself over, clutching his chest as he can't even get a word out. You know exactly what's happened. You rub his back through his burgundy jacket and give a gentle lat. 

"Ah, you're fine, honey, you just got the wind knocked out of ya." 

He nods and gulps, a spiral of his reddish brown hair falling down his forehead. His dark eyes meet yours, their panicked sheen softening as his lips tremble in an attempt at a smile. 

"Thanks," he rasps at last. 

You pull your arm back and offer him your phone. 

"That was quite the tumble," you stand straight and extend your hand. He takes it and hauls himself up. 

"Yeah, this dang thing," he wiggles his cell and tucks it away in his jacket, "always getting me in trouble." 

You smile nervously and your eyes drift down as he favours one leg. There's a red splotch growing on his khakis. You pop your brows up in concern. 

"Er, think you got yourself good." You point and he looks down. 

"God! I knew I shouldn't have worn these ones. I told May, dark colours!" 

"Baking soda, maybe a bit of club soda," you assure him. "I got bandaids in my bag." 

"You-- do?" He's surprised. 

"Can never be too prepared," you smile. "Um, I guess.. 

We're in the way." 

You glance around as you sense bodies heading up the steps, a few glancing your way. 

"Uh, yeah, why don't we head inside," he takes a ginger step. "Uh, typical. My first day." 

"It'll get better," you say. 

"Hm, yeah, I guess it already has," he grins at you before he turns back up the steps. 

"You need help?" You ask. 

"No, no, I'm not a total disaster," he chuckles. "So," he clears his throat as you catch up to him, "what do you teach?" 

"Oh," you repress a strike of embarrassment. Of course he would assume you're a professor, or a TA at the very least. It's obvious you have a few years on him and most of your classmates. "I'm a student." 

"Nice," he nods, "wait, oh, gee, I didn't mean to imply-- ah, I'm sorry." 

"No, no, it's fine. It's my second year. First year all the freshmen called me mom," you shake your head. "But that might be the bandaids in my bag." 

"Maybe," he stops and squints, "right..." he points his finger around as he thinks, "this way." 

You let him guide you. You don't need to be in class for another half hour. You follow him up to the second floor. That's where your class will be. Convenient. 

When he stops at a door and digs around in his pocket, your heart drops. You look up at the room number as he takes out a set of keys and unlocks the door. You chew on your dismay. 

He lets you in ahead of him. You wait patiently and he heads up to the podium. He leans on the table next to it as he unhooks his bag from over his shoulder. He sighs and peers down at his knee. 

The pulls up the fabric and hisses. You approach as you sift through your bag. He bends his leg as he looks at the scrape. It's not that bad. 

You take out the little pack of alcohol wipe from the little emergency pouch. How many times have you played mother hen to drunk coeds? You're prepared for it all. 

"Wow, you got everything in that magic bag," he teases. 

You squat down and wipe the blood away. As you peel the bandaid wrapper away, you scoff, "I'm a pack horse. Utterly terrified of forgetting anything important." 

You cover the cut and run your fingers across the bandage to make sure it sticks. He winces. 

"Sorry," you apologise as you stand and crumple up the wipe and wrapper. 

You search around for the garbage and toss the waste. You fish again in your bag and take out your sanitizer. You squirt it onto your palm and drop it back through the open zipper. Your rub your hands together as he pulls his pantleg back down. 

"Well, since you got my blood on your hands, I guess you should get a name too," he chuckles, "I'm Peter. Er, Professor Parker. Still getting used to that." 

He offers his hand and you shake it, "Olive." 

"Olive. Pretty. Er, interesting. Oh no," he pulls back, "I went through sensitivity training. Can I say that?" 

"It's fine, professor. I'm not overly fond of the name myself," you shrug. 

"Right, well," he bends his arm and tugs up his sleeve to check his apple watch. "I hope I didn't make you late." 

"Well, actually, funny story," you scratch the side of your neck, "I'm enrolled in Physics 2." 

He tilts his head and his lips part on disbelief, "you're joking." 

"Nah, it's not exactly my favourite subject but I'll do my best," you say, "but er, if you need to get set up, I can wait in the hall." 

"What? No. You're early. Make sure you get the best seat," he insists. "I will say the front row is where you wanna be but I was a student not too long ago and I won't be insulted if you sit in the back." 

You laugh, "well, you know, I'm a late bloomer and these ears aren't so good." You kid, "front row's fine with me." 

His grin lingers, awkwardly as his forehead lines and he tries to come up with a response. You smile, "I'll go sit down." 

You give a little wave and go to find a seat. You settle in with your bag in your lap and slid out your notebook and the box of fresh pens. You tried your laptop for notes but you just find your eyes hurt from the blue light. 

You tuck your bag under your seat and unfold the small desk from the arm rest. As you peel back the cover of your notebook, your ears tingle. You glance over as Peter-- Professor Parker, peeks at you. You give a tense smile and pull out a pen, putting your focus back to your notebook. 

At least if you do crappy, you might be able to charm yourself into at least a passing grade. 

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

romance novels love to tell you a character is a late bloomer because they don't meet the love of their life until they're twenty-four

[legendofzoodles]

Four: Try explaining your fight with Ganon or whatever evil was wrecking your kingdom, but without context.

Wind: Old-ass wizard kicks around some minors while the only other adult is a shapeshifting boat-man who prioritised claiming some triangles. Beat that. 

Four: I’m sorry, what?

Wind: That’s how Grandma saw it. But I get it, he did take a few pot shots at me and especially Tetra.

Time: [remembering when Ganondorf, chasing after Zelda on horseback, stopped his pursuit solely to blast a 9 year old in the face and monologue]

Time: Sounds like him.

---

Wild: Appointed knight finally fulfills his mission after waiting 100 years to reload his save.

The Chain: What?

Time: That sucks, I only waited seven. 

The Chain: What?!

---

Twilight: Local ranch-hand stops a nightmare induced apocalypse alongside an imp who’s a princess and a hermit, who’s also a princess.  

Time: [clears his throat]

Twilight: After screaming at the moon vocal coaching from a ghost stalking the entire journey, who wasn’t a princess. 

---

Sky: Local daydreamer wakes up, fights god, and wins. 

Wild: I mean...did you though?

Legend: Yeah, jury’s still out on that one.

---

Hyrule: Mute kid brutalises pigman after assembling wish granting triangles, and saves the princess. He does it again years later.

Wild: You were silent back then?

Hyrule: Well, I couldn’t speak because I didn’t know the language. After saving the first Zelda she asked members of the nobility teach me- and how to read and write.

Twilight: Did you bite them when they tried to scold you for getting an answer wrong?

Hyrule: You did that too?!

---

Warriors: Pairs of powerful fighters from across the ages band together to defeat creepy time sorceress, then conquer red-maned wizard. 

Legend: Ugh, the power of friendship. Really?

Warriors: Comradery, actually. 

Legend: [mimicking his tone] Cringe, actually. 

---

Legend: Which one?

Four: Choose your favourite.

Legend: [thinks for a moment] A scarf wearing hooded hobo breaks into my house on several occasions and stages a coup to save two worlds. 

Four: What...were you doing?

Legend: [sighing] All the hard work. 

~~~

Thanks for reading! 

Masterlist

9th place in the LU character design ranking

Character analysis posts:

Hero of the Sky, Hero of Time, Hero of Twilight, Hero of the Wild, Hero of Warriors

Parkour team - LU drabble

How each member of the chain laughs - LU headcanon

I didn't know what to do for Time since I've already made the speedrunning puberty joke and I don't know much about Four's adventures.

[looney-mooney-studio]

New sonic game trailer gave me brainworms

(Congrats Shadow on the Puberty)

[nicollekidman]

i will never live up to my potential until i’m a governess to an unnervingly precocious child in an isolated manor, engaged in a complicated psychosexual game with my employer who is gone more often than not

[billdecker]

KAREN GILLAN as Louise in LATE BLOOMERS (2023; dir. Lisa Steen)

[classycookiexo]

[aromantic-diaries]

"Oh shit people my age are actually having sex? Hm I guess I'm just a late bloomer" says 15 year old who speedran puberty and is often described as mature for their age by parents and teachers

[unrelatedsideblog]

Idk, idk

I have at least 3 versions of this AU lmao

[summerwages]

Lipstick on your collar...

Connie Francis...1958 🎵