#interracial love stories

[endlessdreamerxoxo]

If there's a chance to ship a woman of color with a beloved & gatekept male lead because there's amazing chemistry between the two, I'm gonna ship it... even if everyone hates me.

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

Wilmon Midsommar

[currymanganese]

Girl, what? So wtf was the Alley Talk in Brigade, the Stock Talk in Sheridan, the Family Style-Two-Tops-Booths? Talk in Braciole, the Apartment Talk in Pasta and the Table Talk in Omelette??? Not to mention Syd and Carmy hugging it out post fire suppression test in Bolognese and staring lovingly into each other's eyes right in front of Marcus in Omelette?🤨

[ashleyfableblack]

A Mother's Day Eternal Courtship Jam. Love is complicated. Love takes work. For a Big Mama Bughorse with a family spanning several species it can take alot. A hard tale about love and family some may find all too familiar. TW in hashtags

"THERE'S my SPECIAL Boy..." Chrysalis beamed a grin of gleaming, razor-keen fangs at Pharynx as the guards shut the balcony bay doors behind them. She levitated a bunch of grapes from a nearby table of assorted dishes and goblets, offering them. "MY Pharynx. Come. Sit with me. Something to eat?" Pharynx politely refused with a reserved smile. "No, thank you, My Queen." Purple grapes. Very plump, ripe ones at that. He wasn't surprised that she knew his favorite fruit. Though he'd gotten to spend very little time with her since The Exodus of their people, he had little doubt that her agents were still hidden among his Lovebug kind. She likely knew more of their affairs than he did. Making his way to the heap of cushions she was lounging upon he climbed the pedestal and sat. "Happy Mother's Day." He gave a sheepish grin. After last years celebration he hadn't been sure what to expect from her. 'Mother's Day' wasn't a changeling concept. Every Day was Mothers Day as far as The Hive was concerned. His people's decision to adopt the pony holiday as a lovebug tradition was received awkwardly at best. But Chrysalis was a Queen and the Mother of her entire race and she was certainly making a go at it for her sons sake. She was looking healthy. No doubt she was eating very well. Her pony wife had made it very clear that she alone would give her wife all the love she needed. She had always been large, so tall, beautiful and majestic in an indefinable way, by changeling standards. But she seemed larger still, these days. Her chitin gleamed, dark and smoky. The pitting of her limbs seemed reduced. Her mane of spidersilk seemed more like the hair of a pony. Her shape even seemed different. Her plot, in particular seemed rather... round. He wondered if she was unconsciously adapting her form to suit her wife or maybe to fit more closely with their pony subjects? It was a common enough trait among changelings in deep-cover. Her eyes shifted between her two sets of irises as she looked him over, examining him both visually and taking note of his emotional state. "I trust your trip was well. Hmmn." She could see he was particularly troubled but spoke nothing of it. Decorum was to be observed. She was a Queen. "Where is your idiot brother?" Pharynx chuckled. "Heh. He got pulled into a discussion on some artsy-craftsy garbage about 'decorative baking' with one of Queen Twilights advisors. The bubble-headed pink one." "Ah." Chrysalis nodded. "That would be Pinkie-pie." "That's the one. Ugh." Pharynx shifted uneasily on the pile of assorted cushions and royal-blue throw rugs. Some creatures would say that all ponies looked alike. He knew this to be untrue. Though he was a lovebug he still had a changelings eye for fine detail. Ponies of any tribe were very distinct, visually. Their personalities on the other hoof, on that he could definitely see their point. They were all so cloying, so irritating. They all just blended into one big blur of annoying, bouncy, frivolous children to him. Tasty as food but still, annoying. "I told him to just go on with her and he could meet us later. Seemed just as well."

"Indeed." She pursed her lips, studying him. The Queen took a sip from an ornate silver goblet. "She has a way with most creatures, one I would imagine fitting your brother's demeanor all too well." Pharynx regarded the view. He could see why his Queen-Mother had chosen to make this balcony into a receiving area. From here, New Canterlot castle had an impressive view of the surrounding land. From the peaks of far-off Yak-Yakistan to the tides coming in off the Celestial Sea. This perch was as tactical as it was deceptively pleasant. She could plot out an entire campaign from here as easily as charm unassuming diplomats. He sighed. He missed those days as a changeling agent. Chrysalis broke his drift into the past with her sharp, multi-tonal Hive voice. "But you desired a private audience." It wasn't a question. She knew. "Yes." He cleared his throat, straightening himself. "Yes, My Queen." Her emerald snake eyes stared expectantly. Most of his life those eyes had been a place of comfort to him. She was his Queen-Mother, the source of all life for his people. However, in this moment, he would almost be anywhere else than in their gaze. Still, he had planned. He had prepared. This was the time and this was his moment. He was going through with this. "I wished to speak with you on a personal matter, My Queen." Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. "Pharynx, it's not like you to be so nervous. Speak." "I needed to-" he paused. His deep, gravelly voice cracking, he cleared his throat. He couldn't believe it but he was actually trying to recall Thorax's 5-5-5 rule for dealing with his anxiety. Or was it 3-3-3? UGH. He would have to punch him when he saw him next time- more than he usually did. "I needed to apologize... to you, My Queen."

Chrysalis furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?" She adjusted her irises to study the shimmering pattern of emotions emanating from her lovebug son. Guilt, radiated from him like smoke from a oil-fire, guilt, shame and a deep, black loathing. She craned her neck and drew slightly closer. "You've nothing to apologize for." Pharynx visibly shrank. The words and the feeling behind them hit him like fists. "Respectfully, My Queen-" his lavender eyes glanced to her "I feel I do." Pharynx sighed hard. It had been years in the build-up. He'd finally opened the door. Nothing to do for it now but walk through. "Mother... I failed My Hive. I failed our people. I failed myself. Most of all, I failed you." His lips pursed as her struggled to contain the breaking dam inside his chest. Chrysalis straightened herself. She narrowed her eyes, her intense gaze could cut through stone. Her ears flitted as she listened intently. "Continue." Pharynx stared into the floor. His eyes looked to the same past his voice spoke from, a time some decades ago now. He could almost see the timeline in front of them, the chain of events which led him to this moment. "Look after her." He paused. The word, the identifier, it stung his tongue to say it. "That's what you said to me. The first thing you ever said to me. Look after her. You ordered me to protect my idiot younger sister, my broken, faulty twin." Pharynx sighed. "She was born wrong. You knew it. I knew it. She wasn't like the rest of us. From the moment I crawled out from our egg and looked back at her, still wobbling around, she was silent in the hive-mind. Not a ghost, not a whisper, just nothing. But rather than just leave her to our sisters to be eliminated, you ordered me to protect her. You seemed to value her, maybe me as well, if by proxy." He looked into his hooves as if searching for the secrets of his past in them. "You didn't give us designations like our sisters. We were different. We got names. I would be Pharynx. She was Thorax." He bit his lip. The dam was stressed but holding. "I wanted you to be proud of me. My Queen. My Mother. So, I protected her, the idiot. The coward. The weakling. Our sisters knew she was born wrong and they hated her, wanted her gone, if not dead. She was not of The Hive. She smelled wrong, tasted wrong. None of us could hear her in the Hive Mind." Pharynx gritted his tiny nub fangs "But I protected her from them. I kept her safe. When they bullied her, I fought her fights. When she failed missions, I cleaned up her mess. When she betrayed us, ran away like the traitor she..." He paused, the words caught in his throat. The dam was cracking. "The traitor he was. I still obeyed. I kept the patrols from finding him. I guided any incidental seekers from his pathetically obvious hiding spots. I even masked the scent of his fear in the air- THAT took ingenuity. But All for you, My Queen. All for The Hive. I protected him even up until..'" Pharynx shuddered. He hesitated to even say the words. The name his changeling people had given to the day of their near-genocide. The day their home was destroyed and the lovebugs were born. "The Exodus. I could have stopped him. I could have stopped all of them. The cowards." He gritted his teeth, hooves clenched against his thighs like fists. "The ingrateful, treasonous scum. The filthy pony intruders, that stupid draconequis-thing, my traitorous brother. I could have stopped them but I didn't." Pharynx looked to his Mother, His Queen. He owed her the respect of looking her in the eyes when he said this. When he admitted to the price of his shame. "I had a choice to make. In that moment I had to choose. To be the perfect daughter for you like I always wanted to be..." The weight of his guilt was crushing. The dam was breaking. Held back for the last thirty years The edges of his eyes moistened. "Or be the... the worthless... Son... I always knew I had needed to be."

His shoulders shook with the pressure of containing the tears. Gritting his teeth he continued. "I hated him. He wasn't a Changeling. He wasn't one of us. I hated him for being weak. I hated him for being different. I hated his stupid smiling face. I hated his stupid feelings, his selfishness, his self-important, self-righteous- OH, he was SO much better than the rest of us, he was better than The whole HIVE. He was so special, like those stupid pathetic little ponies. But I-" Pharynx choked. "He... He was braver than me. He was Thorax. He was... your son. And I made my choice." His lips quivered. The hot stinging droplets formed. His vision blurred and he looked away, sending the tears to patter against the cushions. "I could've stopped him, Mother. I could've saved you from all that. I could've saved all our sisters. I should've stopped him. I wanted to. I... I wanted to be strong for you. I swear I did. I swear I- but I couldn't- had to- I had to be- Ff- Ff- Ph-" Years of self-loathing buried the rest in a mass of sobs as he pressed his face into his hooves. The dam was broken now. Pharynx was broken. His chitinous body convulsed as he wailed. Like a tiny foal, he shrieked, loosing out the tears of self-hatred he'd held deep inside for decades. The venom within him had rotted away, cold and black, like tar on his heart for years. Pouring out from his eyes now, it burned, searing like fire. His lips curled back, baring his tiny lovebug faux-fangs. They were not the fierce, dagger-like sabres of a changeling. He chattered them together, trying to finish his thoughts but all that came out was a gibbering, wailing mess. To his shock Chrysalis pulled him to her barrel. Without thinking, he threw his hooves around her, hissing his tears into his Mother's chitin in thick, painful sobs. Several minutes passed as years of hate poured forth, drenching her chest. Not as The Changeling Queen-Mother but as his Mother, she held him firm and steady. Several minutes passed as years melted away between them. Finally, enough of the pain drained off, Pharynx found his words again. "Mom? Do you... hate me?" Chrysalis stared back at him with her giant serpents eyes. In all these years, he had never called her that. No drone had. 'My Queen'. 'Majesty'. 'Excellency'. 'Queen-mother.' 'Perfect One'. 'Exalted One' 'Our Beloved Perfection.' Never 'Mom'. She considered the question in silence. Her horn glowed. In a small eruption of emerald flames a trinket appeared in Pharynx lap. Her multi-tonal voice cut through the tense silence between them. "Do you know what this is?" He looked to the trinket. A fine golden chain set around a series of opaque transparent flakes of shimmering, almost crystalline material, chitin from a changeling. As many times as he'd seen his alicorn mother-in-law wear it, of course he knew what it was. "This is the wedding token you gave to Queen Twilight." "And its significance?" He swiped away a bubble of snot with the back of his forelimb. "It's an ancient pony practice- unicorn, specifically, to give an expensive token of affection to a mate." She starred expectantly.

He expanded- "Adapted during the fusion of their 3 tribal cultures to include the Terrestrials... Err... colloquially, 'Earth Pony' tradition of an exchange of a family heirloom ... one holding a more personal value than one dependent on the unicorn system of material worth." Chrysalis nodded. A smile began to warm her lips. "And what is this?" "It's your token to your mate- Queen Twilight." The Queen gave a small huff of impatience, touching the article with her pitted hoof to accent each word. "What. Is. This?" Pharynx wasn't certain what his mother was asking him. He lifted the article carefully in his hoofs and examined it. He'd never actually seen it this close before. He could see now the small plates of chitin were quite old. He had always thought they were just tiny clippings his Mother had made from her wings, emulating the pegasus practice of giving their mate one of their primary feathers. But that couldn't be. They were far too old for that. Their translucent quality was caused not by their age, but by their structure. No only that, they were slightly curved and shaped irregularly, each slightly smaller than the last. They were fitted plates. "These are..." he straightened as the realization dawned on him, suddenly taking even greater care to be very gentle with the artifact in his grasp. "These are the plates of a grub's first molting." She nodded again, her smile growing to expose her fangs. "They're yours."

Chrysalis draped a hoof around his shell. Pharynx fought to find the words. "Mine? But... How? Mine? They're... How did y-" "Your idiot brother saved the discards of your first molting. Don't ask me how he secreted them away or where he hid them. None of your sisters ever knew." She looked from the tiny bracelet to the astonished Pharynx. He stared at the jewelry as if it were speaking to him in a foreign tongue. "I've never found the knowledge in the Hive Mind, anyways. " She gave a wistful sigh. "I remember. You had both just completed your nymph molt a few days before. He came to me, all puffed up and smiles, and presented me with a set of baubles he'd made. A necklace and a bracelet. He'd managed to cobble together the materials from one of our caches of acquired valuables. I'm still not sure how he learned the skills required to craft them, half-dumb as he was. Still, he did. A necklace from his own remnants..." She lifted the trinket in her green flames. "...and this, from yours." In an implosion of magic the matrimonial token vanished, teleported back to Twilight's dresser. Pharynx stared in silence. She'd held onto such a thing, all these years, in secret. With a gentle touch of his angular cheek, Chrysalis regarded him. "I gave this to Twilight, my immortal love, as an act of trust, to honor the ancient custom of her people. It was only a thing but it was my most precious of things. And if I could trust her with this thing I could trust her with my hearts." She stroked his cheek, drawing close. "I am your Queen. I designate you all with purpose." Her snakes eyes held him like a helpless little grub. "When you hatched, I knew it. You were never born wrong. But you were born different. You weren't like any of our kind, ever, more like..." She paused, catching herself as if to keep a secret. "Yes, I named you. I knew what you were, as I have all my children from the dawn of our kind. Your foolish, flighty brother, he was Thorax, 'my heart'. You..." She smiled in a warmth he had never seen from her before. "...you were stronger, fiercer stuff. Pharynx, 'my voice'." As she smiled down at him the tears came again. He didn't fight them this time. "I've never hated you. In all The Hive, I've thousands of drones. Infiltrators, Warriors..." She wiped at his cheek with her pitted hoof. "But I've only one Pharynx. One you. You are my son."

He returned her smile, wiping at his cheeks.

They sat in silence. Maybe for the first time in their lives, they were truly Mother and Son, as Pharynx would see it. "Any other questions?" She gave a playfully irreverent smirk. still draping a hoof over his shell. "Heh... Maybe... Another hug? My Q-" She cut him off, pulling him into her hooves and squeezing her son tightly. He embraced her in return. He could almost taste the love in the air around them. It was an unusual feeling, this warmth. Was this 'acceptance'? It was alien but certainly not unwelcome. If this was what Thorax was always going on about Pharynx could get used to this 'family' business. The balcony-bay doors creaked open. A guard broke the tender silence of their moment with her announcement. "My Queen. Prince Thorax awaits Her Grace." Chrysalis looked to the guard, then to Pharynx. He smirked, making to hop up. "I'm gonna go pound him." The Queen rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Don't pick on your brother." Pharynx sniffled and froze. He had an almost pouty quality to his silent obedience. She sighed in resolution. "Fine. You're brothers..." Pharynx leapt up with a burst of energy and sprinted for the door. From the halls Chrysalis could hear the sounds of things being broken and shouting of various slurs of endearment. She chuckled and took a large mouthful of the grapes, chomping them down hungrily with a smug, self-satisfied smile. "Best. Mom. EVER."

[interracial-happenings]

She knows what she longs for. He cradles her face in his hand, putting her under his spell. She understands what he wants. He will give her new meaning to life.

[lighthousepigeons]

Callahan, eating doritos: Why are threesomes only for sex? Why can't I join in a couples argument, if I wanted to?!

Declan: Callahan, please, shut the fuck up.

Iris, laughing: No, but like why not-

Declan: Not you too.

[kissablelips-desireslure-vol2]

NAKED DRAGON (2014)

Written and Directed By: G.A. Hauser

Written By: Graham Ludlow

Synopsis: While on the hunt for a serial killer, a local black police officer Dave Harris begins a sexual relationship with white FBI Agent Robbie Taylor.

DAVON WILLIAMS (as Dave)

&

JESSE SEANN ATKINSON (as Robbie)

[kissablelips-desireslure-vol3]

THE UNDERBOSS

Directed By: Paul Barresi

Featuring: Dino DiMarco Winston Love

©️ US MALE ENTERTAINMENT

[alcaza21]

[20kmemesunderthesea]

Mobilis in Mobili

Things of Interest:

Captain Nemo, Freedom Fighter

Libertatem

Films:

The Russian 1975 "Captain Nemo" Miniseries

SNL: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

AMC's "Nautilus"

Games:

Leagues of Love: a Steampunk Dating Sim

Nemo's Fury

Verne: the Shape of Fantasy

A Whale of a Tale:

Hello my fellow bookworms, geeks and uncivilized vagrants! My name is Anna, and I hail from the United States.

I married a man from India. He’s the full package. Tall, dark and handsome…sort of broody until he warms up to you, then he’s a total cinnamon roll. He’s also adventurous, has compelling leadership qualities and a penchant for humanitarianism, which is one of the main reasons I husband’ed him. We’ve been bound in holy matrimony for many a year, and he’s aged like fine wine.

Here's us as young 'uns living in India:

Behind us in this photo you'll see an Indian naval submarine. He took me on a tour of it as a date, because he knows how to show a girl a good time.

Early on in our relationship I read "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea." I couldn’t put it down! At night I would dream about being on board the Nautilus. Furthermore…I was immediately smitten with Captain Nemo. 

I actually got a little flustered reading TKLUTS. Captain Nemo is first introduced with three paragraphs describing how handsome he is, with a commanding presence, swarthy features and “finely-tapered hands.” In Professor Aronnax’s words, “Certainly the most wonderful physical specimen I'd ever met up with.”

As the story progresses, he’s shown to be level-headed under pressure, a great leader, and, of course a brilliant mind. My little ol’ heart could hardly handle it when he saved that pearl-diver’s life…or when he smuggled gold to the revolutionaries in Crete. And it did certainly did not help when he would have an impassioned outburst, or break down in tears at the sight of a human life being taken. 

(Jules Verne made Captain Nemo SO HOT…and for what?!)

Now obsessed with this literary figure, I had to find out his elusive backstory. A brief Google search revealed another Jules Verne book, “The Mysterious Island,” which promised to answer my questions.

Upon reading “The Mysterious Island,” I was hard-hit by the tragic tale of the deposed Indian Prince Dakkar, alias Captain Nemo who lost his family during the rebellion of 1857, then built a futuristic submarine in secret with his faithful followers, and dedicated his life to science…and revenge.

Then it hit me like a thunderbolt.

Captain Nemo is Indian...

The way people look up to him…

The intelligent, constantly active mind…

The thirst for adventure…

The tender heart hidden under an exterior of emotional constipation..

It was then I realized that I was besotted with a fictional character…who is a dead ringer for my own dear husband!

Upon re-reading TKLUTS I could attest that the way Captain Nemo reacts in any given situation is just how my husband would react if he had a penchant for engineering and undiagnosed chronic depression. I was flabbergasted that I hadn’t seen it before!

Practically slamming a copy of “20k League Under the Sea” in front of my spouse, I said, “This could be us: we just need a submarine!”

They always said, "boys are better in books..."

This is why I advise people to not hold out.

Wait until you find the literary character of your dreams in the flesh.

It’s truly a joy to hold his finely-tapered hands.

[butwhatifidothis]

you know what anon, go fuck yourself. my askbox has anon turned off so if you wanna come at me, do it with your name attached to your pathetic whining i'm a trans man. do you wanna know how cap'nfart69 treats being a trans man, narratively? he says ingrid is a trans man because of gender stereotypes, and has her complain about being called "dame" exactly once. but he doesn't refer to her as a man even once, he narratively treats her like a woman because he doesn't actually give a shit about a trans man ingrid headcanon. and why? because he loves edelgrid

he loves edelgrid in part because it's a f/f ship that - according to him - is defiant against heteronormative patriarchical oppression. and this is reinforced by the fact that all the men in cap'nfart's fic (especially the ones that aren't a part of the shit-n-piss force) are treated like demons. he likes ingrid, so why would he actually commit to making her a man? when men are inferior to him?

you know how fucking hurtful that is? according to cap'nfart and his idiot little friends, i'm a cis woman because i don't like stereotypical guy things. i like art, fashion, makeup - things he deems girl things, things he says are part of why ingrid is a trans man in canon, supposedly, because she hates them

and let's NOT start on the whole "kronya taking on monica's appearance and name is totally a transgender allegory, tee hee!" is downright transphobic

so tell me, you fucking coward, should i take this lying down? i think the fuck not. maybe shut the fuck up about calling someone rightfully criticising a bigoted shitfic being just as bad as the fucking bigots

Door's open nonnie

[elvisqueso]

I am on some bullshit right now, bruh

[alittlebitofeverythingsworld]

Does anyone else get this vibe?

[ashleyfableblack]

"Well, hello little one." the queen sighed dreamily to the little grub approaching her.

She smiled a sleepy smile and chuckled. How long had it been since she wobbled her way into the creche on weary, rubbery legs and flopped to the floor in a most undignified 'sploot'? It felt like it had only been a few minutes but she had closed her eyes. Maybe she had dozed off? No. She could hear in the nearby chamber, Twilight was still drawing the bath for them.

AH. Hearthswarming night. She purred, reviewing the sensations in her hearts. They had spent some rapturously wonderful time lost in each other. They giggled. They nuzzled. They blathered on about anything, everything and nothing at all like teenaged foals, adrift in the vibrant ecstasy of being in love.

Yes! Then, Twilight had suggested a bath. While she had drawn the heated, perfumed water Chrysalis had wobbled her weary way into the children's creche to check on their youngest larvae. Now, here she was, splayed out on the floor on her abdomen with her plot in the air like a squashed spider.

A squashed spider with one of their infant daughters chittering into her snoot like a overjoyed puppy.

Her dual irises shifted and focused to take in the full emotional spectrum as she flickered the air with her tongue, tasting for the tiny grub. She extended her crown of antennae and expanded her consciousness to it's normal place in the hive mind's nexus. Reaching out through the nebulae of stardust and memory she examined the forming consciousness, the shape of thoughts, feelings, experiences, new as they were. In her understanding of the world, this was the true shape of a changeling.

Ah. Now she recognized this one. RGMF19. Reconnaissance Guard, Mobile Forces, Unit one, Operative nine- OR as Twilight would call her "Ragamuffin".

She gave a pleasantly resigned sigh. It was a minor annoyance, this naming convention, yet another instance of pony-kind forcing their concept of normalcy on another species. Ethnocentrism was an unfortunate habit the ponies were still struggling to unlearn. Still, Chrysalis understood that it comforted her beloved wife to assign individual names to their daughters. Twilight lacked her expanded set of senses and connection to the hive mind it was the only way she could easily differentiate between their children which was something of a necessity in motherhood.

The tiny grub stared at her with a brilliantly beaming smile and a tiny, squeaking hiss. She couldn't help but chuckle in return. Even a pony could easily tell that she was one of her new hive of drones, sired solely with Twilight's love. As opposed to all previous changelings, the little one's eyes were large and violet, like their ponymother, sparkling with intelligence and curiosity. The long, inky eyelashes framing her eyes flicked at the base of her ears. Her ears were also unusually long, like those of a rabbit. The segments of her caterpillar-like body were decorated with a trail of lavender spots, cascading along her backside like the petals of a flower.

Her clutch was so different from all which had come before them.

"One thing is for certain. Your life will be a better one."

The mighty queen gave the little grub a nudge with her snoot, rolling her over on her back. She tilted her head slightly to contemplate the wiggling little thing. She was so fragile, so frail, yet so formed by the love of her precious, irreplaceable bride- so strangely, paradoxically powerful in the promise of a new, better tomorrow for her kind.

"You will never have to hide in the shadows as your predecessors. You will never have to fear others simply knowing you exist. Their fear of you being what you are will not threaten to starve you out. You will walk in the light and they will accept you as you are. In this world which we are building, your ponymother and I, this New Equestria, your birthright is one of unimaginable power and possibility. They will love you- as your mothers love you, daughter of The Hive."

Her forked tongue flickered out and gave a playful spree of butterfly kisses to the tiny changeling babe sending it into a fit of wiggling hisses and clicking.

"Happy Hearthswarming, my Ragamuffin."

Chrysalis gently lifted the little grub in her jaws and placed her in a strand of webbing near her sleeping clutchmates. With a small nuzzle goodnight, she quietly turned to stumble away, leaving the nursery chamber to return to her wife's embrace.

[androgynoustran]

Love Through Letters

Luca:

It was a bright, unseasonably warm afternoon in Germany when I first discovered the pen-pal app, “Slowly.” The name intrigued me. In a world obsessed with speed, the idea of taking things slow appealed to me. As a computer science student, my life was a whirlwind of coding and deadlines. I wanted something different—something genuine. So, I signed up, hoping to connect with someone from a distant corner of the globe, someone whose life was completely different from mine.

A few days passed. I received messages from people, but none seemed to capture my interest until I opened a letter from someone named Pri. Her name rolled off my tongue like honey, sweet and inviting. With a flicker of excitement, I read her reply. She spoke of languages with a passion that mirrored my own. I felt like I’d found a kindred spirit.

“Hey, Luca!” she had written cheerily.

Her words danced in my head as I read how she, too, found beauty in the cadence of languages. She spoke four languages and was learning more, a feat that made her seem so worldly, so vibrant. I quickly drafted a response, my fingers flying over the keyboard. I wanted to tell her about my fascination with programming languages, how they were like a secret code to all the wonders of technology. But most of all, I wanted her to see me—really see me—a young man with dreams, fears, and a longing for connection.

Across our letters, I began to slip little pieces of myself into the conversation. I told her about my favorite books, the late-night coding marathons, and the quiet moments when I stared at the stars, pondering the vastness of the universe. With every letter, I felt like I was unveiling another layer of my soul, and Pri was reciprocating.

Pri:

The first time I saw his name flash on my screen, I felt an exhilarating mixture of curiosity and eagerness. I had never considered a pen-pal before, but Luca seemed different. His warm demeanor seeped through his words, as if I could hear him jovially chuckling at his own musings on linguistics. The very notion that we lived in such different worlds, yet found a beautiful intersection in our love for languages, fascinated me.

In my reply, I elaborated on how much languages spoke to me—their sounds, the beautiful scripts, and the cultural heritage embedded within them. As I typed away, I imagined Luca reading my words thousands of miles away in Germany. He felt like a safety net, someone who didn’t judge me by the color of my skin or the complexity of my background, but appreciated me for who I was at that moment.

We exchanged messages that morphed into a rhythmic dance of correspondence. From sharing our favorite foods to discussing our ambitions, I loved the wide gulf that separated us—almost like a barrier that nonetheless allowed us to connect more authentically. In between studying for my business administration degree, I relished every moment spent crafting my letters to Luca, often squinting at the screen deep into the night, my hair a frizzy mess and documents piled high.

Luca:

As the weeks turned into months, I grew more invested in Pri's tales from India. She spoke of the bustling streets of Delhi, of aromatic spices that tickled her senses, and festivals filled with color and laughter. To hear her convey her cultural pride was intoxicating. I wanted to learn more—about her life, her family, and her dreams.

In turn, I shared snippets of my own world. I described the quiet beauty of the Black Forest and the vibrant yet subdued atmosphere of my university life. I sent her pictures, meticulously chosen to encapsulate moments of joy, and urged her to do the same. Each image added another layer to the reality of our correspondence. The screens were no longer just portals; they felt like windows into each other's lives.

One day, I took a bold step; I invited her to video chat. The thought sent butterflies racing in my stomach. What if the easy flow of messages didn’t translate? What if our connection faded in person? The anxiety twisted in my gut, but I hit send, and waited, heart pounding.

Pri:

Luca's video chat invitation left me electrified and anxious at once. I had never done anything like this before. My fingers trembled as I looked at the clock, counting down the minutes until our call. What if I said the wrong thing? What if the connection dropped? I furiously rearranged my room, trying to create a backdrop that would show the best side of me. I had gotten so used to our letters that the idea of hearing his voice felt daunting but equally exciting.

When Luca’s face finally appeared on my screen, all my fears dissipated. His wide smile was genuine, and his blue eyes sparkled with warmth. Hearing him speak was like music; it was comforting yet exhilarating. We talked for hours, forgetting the time entirely, mesmerized by the nuances of each other’s lives.

Every laugh, every shared secret deepened the bond we were building. I saw him lean back, his eyebrows knitting together as he focused on my words, and it made my heart skip. By the end of our call, I realized I was falling for the man behind the letters—the multifaceted person who held the entire world in his gaze.

Luca:

As our correspondence unfolded, it became clear that our bond was morphing into something profound. I mean, who would have thought that a simple app could lead to this? With every letter and every video chat, my feelings for Pri grew stronger, wrapping around my heart like ivy climbing a trellis. I found myself daydreaming about visiting her, walking side by side through the crowded streets of Delhi, tasting spices together, and experiencing Holi’s riotous colors.

Ironically, our cultural differences seemed to fuse us more than separate us. I realized that her perspectives offered me new insights, and I longed to explore the tapestry of her life just as she was stepping into mine.

Perhaps one day, we would no longer be bound by screens. Perhaps one day, I could hold her hand beneath the same starry sky I had so often shared in writing—turning the dreams of our slow beginnings into a vibrant reality.

In the end, “Slowly” had transformed our lives, leaving two hearts intertwined across oceans—a love story bound not by geography, but by an unwavering connection formed through letters and whispers.

[writtenbychip]

I'm new here!

Hi all! My name is Chip Francine and I’m new here at, Tumblr. With great enthusiasm, I’m thrilled to be here, and eager to share my fiction writing with all of you.

Having dedicated the past ten years to writing fanfiction (which brings me immense joy!), I have now mustered the courage to introduce my original fiction to the world. Scary process, a little, but also thrilling and exciting. 

I am excited to share my debut serial story with you, titled “A Bronx Romance.” This is a coming of age story focusing on two 19-year-old girls from New York City who fall in love in 1977.

As the weeks progress, and I figure out how to use this platform more, I will be posting snippets from the story, share a few facts about that era and talk about my writing process a bit.

I hope it will be an enjoyable and exciting experience for everyone! Thanks! And remember to follow! :)