Heres A Link To A Google Sheet Of ALL BAIL FUNDSaround The Country. You Can Also Add Missing Bail Funds

Here’s a link to a google sheet of ALL BAIL FUNDS around the country. You can also add missing bail funds here by messaging me!

Please spread this link around!

Happy birthday Tony Stark !!! ﾟ*｡(･∀･)ﾟ*｡

I’m totally not crying! 😭😭😭

A sweet din suggestion, the child just cries his eyes out and screams “mama!” And “Papa!” While reaching for both the reader and din, eventually the both allow the little green baby to hold on to them both. Din is just staring at the reader the whole time and kinda scared. I know it’s a lot but I’ve been thinking about this 🥺

***Soooo I changed it from mama and papa for OBVIOUS reasons.

Buirs

His breath caught as the three finger hand of the baby reached for him as well. Opening and shutting in the universal language of want. The tiny squeak of a word that came from the child’s mouth.

“Buir!”

He had been talking to the kid a lot. Settled into the captain’s chair of the cockpit, keeping the little womp rat entertained when sleep alluded them both. Letting Y/N catch a few hours of rest below in her bunk without worrying about being woken up. Maker knew the kid kept her on her toes when she was watching him.

Mando had been trying to teach him some of his language. Not basic or the scant few words of the native language he’d spoken before being rescued by the Mandalorians. He’d been teaching him Mando’a. The tongue spoken by those that were born or adopted into the tribe. His Ad’ika was one such child.

Not that he’d found much success whispering the words and their meanings to the kid. For what would be an older man in Mando’s species, the kid couldn’t talk yet. Never doing much more than cooing at him affectionately. But it made him feel good, teaching him the language that had been taught to him. Confiding the meanings behind the words that rolled off his tongue unknowingly sometimes.

Now he knew that the kid had learned. Both adults being surprised when the tiny green baby had screeched the word at the top of his lungs in a bid for Y/N’s attention.

She’d picked him up, a wide smile on her beautiful face. Even though she had no clue what he’d said. Just the fact that he was forming words was a cause for celebration in her mind. Mando however, had been floored. His heart pounding in his chest as he realized that the womp rat knew exactly what he was saying. He’d patted the side of her cheek with his hand and repeated the word.

When Y/N went to move away from the Mandalorian was when he’d reached out again. His hand grasping air insistently as he trilled the word again.

“Buir! Buir!”

His feet felt like lead as he stepped closer. Each one accompanied by another demand from the baby.

“Buir!”

“Buir!”

“Buir”

Until finally he was close enough for the creature to reach both of them. He trembled. Hidden beneath the layers of Beskar and canvas cloth, Mando stood hesitant and nervous. His heart galloping wildly as Y/N leaned closer to him, making it easier for the baby to curl up to both of them.

He didn’t know how to react. Where his hands were supposed to go, so he kept them at his sides. It felt too intimate to touch the baby right now. It would make it seem too much like the images in his mind, those he kept locked away. Aliit, family. The three of them.

Wide doe-eyes looked up at him, the baby curled against her heart making his own lurch at the sight. Igniting the primal instinct inside him to claim them as his. The kid pulled at his chest plate, wanting the bounty hunter even closer. Beckoning him towards the intoxicating allure of the moment.

“What do you think it means?” She whispered. “Buir?”

Behind the helm, Mando’s eyes closed as he heard her speak his language for the first time. The lilting way it dripped from her tongue making him yearn to hear more. More words, deeper meanings spoken softly towards him.

“Parents. He’s- he’s calling us his parents.” He breathed out, anxiety curling in his gut as he admitted the truth.

Y/N looked up at the blank stare of his visor with a toothy smile, rendering him speechless.

“Buir. Hmmm. You’re right, little one. We are your buirs.”

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quarantine mood

HENRY CAVILL New York Times 2017 Outtakes ph. Tom Jamieson