mixed kid

anonymous asked:

I'm also a mixed kid from two very very different cultures and didn't realize exactly why I felt uncomfortable when someone would treat me a certain way because of it until I read some of what you had to say on the topic and... it makes so much sense (I thought everyone went through this shit? not just mixed people?? man) and I want to say thank you for helping me realize. hang in there dude, you're great and bitches ain't shit

bREH *high fives u b/c mixed kids*

anonymous asked:

blurb where Luke and Y/N both are having trouble falling asleep so you guys are cuddling and talking for hours and you end up talking about how cute it would be if you two have cute little biracial/mixed kids and all the stuff you'd do with them. :)

“Y/N?” You feel Luke’s breath on the back of your neck more than you hear his voice, but you don’t reply because you’re desperate to fall asleep. You’re on the brink, not quite there yet and haven’t been for a while as you and Luke have been up for ages just cuddling and talking about life. But you’ve got so much to do the next day so all you want is to let yourself drift off. Luke’s persistent though, and calls your name again twice before sighing in annoyance.

“I know you aren’t asleep.”

“How do you know I’m not asleep?”

“Cause you aren’t making that cute little wheezing noise you usually do.” You roll your eyes even though they’re closed because a whole year later you’re still convinced Luke is making it up.

“What do you need from me Lucas?”

“I can’t sleep. I wanna talk more.”

“Talk about what? I’m tired.”

“The future. Kids. Cute little kids that would be a perfect mix of the both of us.” And your breath catches, because Luke’s mentioned this before… but this is different. It had always been in the heat of the moment, or as a little joke but now you’re in bed together, it’s intimate, serious. You turn over to face him, and even though it’s dark his sweet blue eyes are bright.

“Luke.”

“It’s true. I want beautiful kids with honey warm skin like yours and your little button nose.”

“I want them to have your boopy nose.” Luke scrunches up his face, trying not to blush.

“I want them to have your brown eyes. They’ll be so cute.” He whispers, pulls you in to rest your head on his chest. The moment your head touches his body your eyes droop, and you can’t believe how the tiredness has hit you.

“No, no they have to have your pretty blue ones.”

“How about one brown one blue? And curly brown hair. We’ll braid their hair before bed while reading them a story. And our little girls will do ballet and I’ll teach our boys guitar.” You don’t really hear what he says, but you hum in agreement and he laughs softly as you lull off with his hand playing with your baby hairs at the bottom of your neck. 
- Betsy