#hiking patrol

[grrl-beetle]

Hiking Patrol x Diemme

[grrl-bubble-acid]

Footpatrol x Hiking Patrol x Reebok

[tap-net]

[grrlmusic]

Diemme x Hiking Patrol

[nosamyrag]

[freshthoughts2020]

[friedbreadfast]

Yeah bitchhhhhh

[tumble-tv]

ICE raids are happening.

Any immigrants, no matter how long you have been a citizen of the USA, is at risk of being deported either out of the country as a whole or into what are basically concentration camps. Raids starting in Chicago, Illinois. and spreading to other major cities with high POC and Hispanic populations. The US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) have started raiding homes and families in California.

There are no "protected locations" as of January 21, 2025. Hospitals, schools, and churches are all at risk of being raided, where before these places were deemed safe and off limits to raids.

When it comes to spotting an ICE agent, look for these:

Weirdly neat/well kept hair (shaved heads, side parts, military burs for men; low buns, high ponytails, close cropped bobs for women)

Oversized jacket (long and bulky outerwear makes it easier to hide tools/equipment without being suspicious)

Both hands in pockets

Many undercover agents/cops buy cheap plain clothes off the racks so they aren’t seen in their own clothes. This can make their outfit seem awkward

Sweatshirts with the hood up

Sports apparel (warm up jacket, sweats, etc) with non-sports clothes (jeans, cargo shorts)

Cargo pants/shorts (usually full of items like their badge, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, backup handcuffs, zip ties)

Military or hiking style boots, sometimes chunky sneakers (extra points if none of it matches anything in their outfit)

Outline of a gun in their pants/shirt (easy to see when bending, leaning, or raising arms) (NO NOT SAY ANYTHING)

Overly friendly

Overly inquisitive

“How old are you” and “what do you know about this happening” are both red flags, along with generally odd and personal questions

Don’t fit in

Mismatched pairs in public spaces (usually cops do these things in pairs. They don’t talk to each other or acknowledge each other much, if at all)

DO NOT SAY ANYTHING UNTIL YOU ARE 100% SURE

YOUR BEST BET IS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING UNTIL THE SUSPECT STARTS ACTING OFF AND GETTING PUSHY

COPS ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT THEY ARE UNDERCOVER

COPS CAN AND WILL LIE TO YOU

SCREAM “LA MIGRA” AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS

For protesting:

N95 masks

Respirator/gas mask if you have access to one

Water water water water water (I hate to say it, but disposable one use bottles are best here. If it comes to it, you need to be able to drop and run.) Use for flushing wounds, flushing eyes of tear gas, and of course drinking.

Snacks! You'll be doing a lot of walking and/or running and need to keep that energy up. Trail mix, dried fruit, nuts, granola bars, crackers, jerky/meat sticks, fruit snacks, candy, etc. Think of it like packing your lunchbox for a field trip.

Eyedrops (teargas is a bitch)

Goggles (I bring my old snowboarding goggles)

If you are wearing a t-shirt or have exposed skin, put on fake/temporary tattoos. If you are brought into something and they say you were there, showing a picture of you with the tattoos, show them where that tattoo would be and how there’s nothing there. How would you get rid of a giant flower on your forearm in 2 days anyways?

Wigs fall under the same category as tattoos. The person they're claiming to be you has a blonde bob and you have green hair past your shoulders.It also makes it possible to go with a completely different color without the use of hair dye. This means if they try to arrest you later and try to prove it was you by taking your hair and testing for dye, it won't come back the way they hope. (Thank you @violetrosepetals for this addition!)

Hide your hair. I tuck my hair into my beanie since it’s short. If you have longer hair, try to do the same or tuck it into your shirt. Balaclavas are also a good choice, as they cover both your face and hair.

Power bank

Chargers

Helmet. Any is fine, my personal choice is a skating helmet since they’re rounder and can take more damage, but tactical is also good

Hand sanitizer

Gloves with hard knuckles (tactical gloves). These pack a good punch even if you don't have the correct form. Don't have those? Wrist guards for roller skating/skateboarding work kinda like that too. More of a slapping motion, but still hurt like a bitch. Extra points if they're all scuffed up from use and falls.

Bandanas. Somebody might need one for their face or hair, maybe you need to get dirt off somebody’s face, maybe somebody got injured. They’re great for anything and everything.

Cash (try to stick to cash, your card can be tracked)

Medications if you take them. If you get arrested or happen to somehow be away for longer than expected after the protest, it’s always good to have emergency meds

FIRST AID ALL THE FIRST AID (Tourniquet, Quikclot, chest seal, trauma shears, gauze, bandages, duct tape, and all the usual stuff you’d have in there)

Good shoes. Boots and sneakers are your best choices. Not heels, not platforms, not sandals. Good boots or shoes that won't come off your feet too easily when you run. Steel toed shoes are a great option. Your toes won't be squashed, but also it'll hurt someone a lot more if you start kicking.

Spare socks. Trust me. You can use them to stop bleeding if it comes to it, but also you can put rocks in there and boom weapon. Also if the socks you're wearing get wet.

As much covering clothing as you can handle. Plain jeans, plain hoodie, plain t-shirt, keep yourself as anonymous as possible. Black and baggy is best.

Photocopy of your ID, not your real one.

Sunscreen!

Make sure your clothes have pockets, even if you have a bag. You want everything to be easily accessible.

Do not wear contact lenses. If tear gas is used, that will make everything so much worse. Wear your glasses or go blind. If you have overly unique or identifiable frames, goggles are your friend here. Get some goggles that will fit over your frames, preferably ones that are tinted.

If you use mobility aids, cover defining features. Logos, brand names, colors, stickers, all of it. Take some old plain t-shirt and tie it around your wheelchair’s backrest. Wrap your wheelchair frame in cling wrap, then duct tape, or plain black self adhering medical tape. Cover stickers on your cane or crutches the same way. Electric chair? You have a little more work, but you can do it. Wrap it up. Same idea. Walker? Same thing. Cover. It. All.

If you are bringing a bag, make sure that bag is as plain as possible. No pins. No patches. No keychains. Except maybe a pride flag so people know which team you're playing on.

Scarf or keffiyeh if you have one. They have many uses!

Write a reliable phone number (of someone who is not at the protest with you) on your body. On the off chance you get arrested, that is your emergency contact.

Pocket knife.

Pepper spray/mace/bear spray

if you get tear gassed, shake around first before using water. Most tear gas is more of a powder and water has a high likelihood of just spreading it around. (Thank you @actually-a-bread-loaf for this addition!)

Tennis rackets also work wonderfully for chucking tear gas canisters back at those throwing them. Anybody asks, you're going out to play tennis with friends later. Baseball bats also work! (Thank you @azul-nova-24 for this addition!)

Anything you can throw. Soup for my family.

IF YOU CAN, LEAVE YOUR PHONE AT HOME

IF YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WITH YOU, TURN OFF LOCATION SERVICES ON ALL APPS AND TURN OFF BIOMETRICS (FACE ID AND FINGERPRINT) SO YOU CAN ONLY UNLOCK YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR PASSWORD

COPS CAN FORCE YOU TO OPEN YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR FINGERPRINT OR FACE ID

MAKE SURE SOMEBODY KNOWS GENERALLY WHERE YOU ARE

If you see a potential or active raid, take pictures and note the time and location. Post online if you can, as well.

You have the right to remain silent. State that you wish to remain silent. Avoid giving information about anybody's immigration status. You have the right to refuse to sign anything before speaking to an attorney. You have the right to refuse searches of your car, your home, and yourself. Schools do not collect a child's immigration status.

I do not want to scare anybody, but this is what life is right now. That man does not care how long you have been a citizen of this country. If you are not a white, cisgender, heterosexual, Christian male, you are seen as less than by men in power. You are not less than. You are a threat to them, and they are scared. Keep it that way.

Even if you're not currently protesting, it's good to know this just in case. Things are happening very quickly, and there is a very high chance of it changing very quickly within the next four years.

Here's the link to my post on what to bring in terms of first aid.

If you cannot attend protests, that’s fine. Do what’s best for you. Even just reposting information helps.

This is an updated version of this post,

Updated January 27, 2025.

[wanderguidehub]

Gear Review: Black Diamond Dawn Patrol 25 - Uncovering Its Pros and Cons

When planning for a day of backcountry skiing or snowboarding, you need a backpack that can keep up with your every move. The Black Diamond Dawn Patrol 25 is a great choice for those who want a backpack that’s versatile, durable, and comfortable. But, is it worth the investment? In this review, we’ll take you through everything you need to know about the Black Diamond Dawn Patrol 25 backpack,…

[literaryvein-reblogs]

other words to use instead of walk?

Advance - to move forward; proceed

Amble - to go at or as if at an easy gait

Canter - to move at or as if at a canter (i.e., a 3-beat gait resembling but smoother and slower than the gallop)

Footslog - to march or tramp through mud

Hike - to take a long walk especially for pleasure or exercise

Journey - travel from one place to another

Lumber - to move ponderously

March - to move in a direct purposeful manner

Meander - to wander aimlessly or casually without urgent destination

Mosey - to move in a leisurely or aimless manner

Pace - to walk with often slow or measured tread

Pad - to traverse on foot

Parade - to march in or as if in a procession

Patrol - keep watch over (an area) by regularly walking or traveling around or through it

Perambulate - to travel over or through especially on foot

Plod - to walk heavily or slowly

Prance - to walk or move in a spirited manner

Promenade - take a leisurely public walk, ride, or drive so as to meet or be seen by others

Prowl - to move about or wander stealthily in or as if in search of prey

Ramble - to move aimlessly from place to place; to explore idly

Roam - to go from place to place without purpose or direction; also to travel purposefully unhindered through a wide area

Saunter - to walk about in an idle or leisurely manner

Shamble - to walk awkwardly with dragging feet

Shuffle - to move or walk in a sliding dragging manner without lifting the feet

Slog - to plod heavily

Stalk - to walk stiffly or haughtily

Step - to move (the foot) in any direction

Stride - to move over or along with or as if with long measured steps

Stroll - to walk in a leisurely or idle manner

Strut - to walk with a proud gait

Stump - to walk over heavily or clumsily

Toddle - to walk with short tottering steps in the manner of a young child

Tour - make a tour of (an area); a short trip to or through a place in order to view or inspect something

Traipse - to walk or travel about without apparent plan but with or without a purpose

Traverse - to move or pass along or through; to move back and forth or from side to side

Tread - to step or walk on or over

Trek - to make one's way arduously

Troop - to go one's way

Trudge - to walk or march steadily and usually laboriously

Wander - to move about without a fixed course, aim, or goal

Hope this helps. If it inspires your writing in any way, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read your work!

More: Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the end - Post-apocalyptic Omegaverse AU

Summary - You missed the end of the world. Fine by you. You thrived in your new surroundings, content to be on your own. Until something happens during your third winter.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. Uh... This came to me in a fever dream. Consider this a prologue. 141 x reader

You think you're pretty lucky all things considered. You had always been self sufficient and your childhood gave you skills you were able to call on after the entire world shat itself. To be honest, you hadn't even noticed the world had completely gone to ruin until you tried to call your pharmacy to refill your heat and scent suppressants.

The line was dead. So you called the grocery store. Dead. The movie theater, the diner, the post office. Dead dead dead. Panic seized you by the throat and you dropped your home phone onto the ground. You splashed cold water onto your face and looked into the mirror with puffy eyes and shaking hands.

What were you going to do? The world couldn't have ended. Right? You should have noticed sooner. "Fuck," you said, pulling on your shoes and grabbed your car keys, you got into your car, "fuck!"

As it turns out, you did in fact miss the ending of the world. You yelled obscenities and banged on your steering wheel. The entire small town you lived near was deserted. Windows were boarded up and cars were parked by the road with tires missing or windows smashed in.

You missed the entire end of the world.

As it turns out, the end of the world wasn't that bad. Nothing really changed. Well besides the rarity of getting your hands on heat suppressants and scent blockers. The first week after you finally got caught up on the whole "the world has ended" thing you raided.

You avoided using your car after you got a mild scare that someone else had been attracted to the noise. Hiding in the very smelly gas station bathroom while you listened to the sound of boots crunching on glass was enough to teach you that lesson.

You tore apart the pharmacy the first week, finding what had to be at least four months worth of scent blockers and nine months of heat suppressants. You took everything you deemed useful and stuffed it into your backpack before hiking back home.

You set up a routine, patrol the forest edge twice a day, care for your garden and check any trap for animals to eat. Self sufficiency had never been such a blessing.

It was the middle of winter three years later when you first saw them.

Men. No, not just men. Alphas. Their scent almost made your knees buckle when you smelt it down wind. For a moment your mind went hazy as their smells flooded your mind until that part of your brain that had been responsible for your survival kicked back in.

Alphas. In your territory. Your territory. It felt like a crime and you felt your inner omegas turmoil. As you watched the four men walk down the road that led into town through your binoculars you debated on what you should do. Run, flee while you are down wind. With shaky hands, whether from the cold or fear you didn't know, you climbed down from the perch you were on and sprinted back home while doing your best to cover your own tracks.

You went in circles, outside in the cold long past when your hands and feet had gone cold. But you were sure they couldn't follow. You were sure they didn't even know you were there.

Three years. You had been off of heat suppressants and scent blockers for years. After a while your heats had stopped coming, whether it was from lack of sleep or stress or some evolutionary thing that happened when no one to mate was around, the bottom line was that you were unprepared.

You boarded up your door and threw water on your fire. You grabbed every blanket in the house and ran into your bedroom. At first you did it for warmth. If you were going to hide you couldn't have fire to give out smoke and you needed to be warm.

Then you continued to mess with the blankets and pillows. You huffed, growing increasingly frustrated at your inability to get it right. You grabbed your laundry and threw it in too, arranged and rearranged until it felt right. It wasn't until you took a step back that you realized what you had done. Something you haven't in years. Before you was a nest. Large enough to fit many in it. Maybe even five. You swallowed hard as your fingers dug into your stomach. It was going to be a long winter.

[grrl-beetle]

Hiking Patrol x Diemme

[sorensolsikke]

oh?

reminds me of the times me and my lil brother went out to walk the dogs in the near forest with our father, and we were pretending to be on patrol.

checking every bush and tree and paw print.

however, our best spot in the forest got awfully destroyed in the past two years, which made us furious.

now that makes a liiittle bit more sense

going for hikes and pretending you’re patrolling your territory.

gaaah j don’t get much species euphoria but i love it especiallyyyy in the mountains

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Where Home Is

You more or less trick Jason into moving into your apartment ~850 words

For the longest time, Jason didn't have a place to call home. Sure, he had more safehouses than he could count on both hands, but none of them were a home.

He was lucky half the time if his closest place of refuge had a box spring mattress and running water. It never bothered him, not really. It was a side effect of the whole vigilante career, a price he was willing to pay to just get under a roof without having to hike across the city.

And yeah, maybe it would be nicer to have clean, soft blankets to come back to. Maybe it would ease the constant, set tension in his jaw to know what's in his fridge. Maybe not having to guess which safehouse had electricity that week would make his life easier.

But all of that was a luxury he didn't need. Jason didn't need a home, he just needed a place to crash and stitch his wounds until the sky darkened and he could do what he was meant for. Fight the battles that need to be won.

Jason Todd did not need a home.

You've managed to convince him otherwise.

It starts small– you're just the closest place, you have a stocked first aid kit, it made sense to go to you. (He shouldn't have fallen asleep on your couch once he's bandaged and stable, but he doesn't think his nearest safehouse has heat, anyway. So staying had to be the right call that night)

But then he starts to find himself at your window more and more frequently at the end of his patrol, for no particular reason at all.

He doesn't know how or why you do it, how you even manage to convince him, but he goes to you nonetheless, unties his boots at the window and drops his jacket on the back of your arm chair.

At first, it's because you had cookies you wanted him to try, and then it's because you have a book he should pick up tonight because it's just easier if he comes over then.

(It's not, it's four in the morning and he's exhausted and he knows you know that, but he comes anyway and you always get him fall asleep on your couch, again and again)

Logically, Jason shouldn't be so comfortable in your space. Realistically, he shouldn't be sleeping in your apartment, and he most certainly shouldn't be letting you corral him from the couch to your spare bedroom. And he definitely shouldn't be nodding along because you said 'he might as well use it tonight, since no one else is'.

He shouldn't. But he does. And he gets the best night's sleep he's had in years.

Even if sleeping on a mattress that's on a frame and not covered in whatever threadbare blanket he has laying around his safe house means he wakes up without a crick in his back, he shouldn't be indulging in it.

He's taking up your space and your time. Jason tries to make up for it by making breakfast (and restocking your fridge for the trouble), but he doesn't think it exactly evens out.

He reprimands himself every time he leaves the warmth care safety- every time he leaves your home. Yet he always finds himself back in the comfort of your apartment when the sun starts to rise.

It makes him feel guilty. Really, he has so many other places to go, he could camp out nearly anywhere if he had to, but he prefers going to you.

And that's dangerous. That's desperate. And despite his better judgment, he doesn't hate it.

He likes that– no matter how quiet he is– you sleepily pad out of your bedroom to greet him. (How you know he's back, he's never gotten a straight answer)

He likes that you check him over for wounds. He likes that you sit with him if he needs to eat. He likes that you make sure he ends up in the spare bedroom and not the couch. He likes that you pat his arm before wandering, half-awake back to your own bed.

He likes coming home.

The thought startles him, the first time he thinks it, after weeks of letting you convince him to come over for the most mundane reasons– to stay once he caves to your pleas.

And suddenly it's not just your spare bedroom, but his bedroom. It's not just your apartment, but your- and his- home. And the feeling in his chest nearly overwhelms him.

It's the one place he can let his defenses down. The one place where his smiles come freely. The only place he wants to return to when the night ends.

Home. You. (It's synonymous in his mind, and he doesn't quite know what to do with that)

He still has more safehouses than he could ever really use. But Jason Todd only has one home. And it's where his fuzzy red blanket lays thrown haphazardly at the edge of his bed. It's where dinner sits waiting to be reheated in the fridge. It's where a closet has an empty hanger for his jacket to rest.

It's where you wait for him to come back, where you're ready to give him a place to fall, and where he knows he'll land safely if he jumps– or stumbles. (And no amount of distance would ever keep him from making it home, back to you)

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58

No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.

You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!

Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point. 

Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.

“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”

He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.

“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”

“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.

You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!

Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.

Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!” 

Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.

“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”

“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”

“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”

“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”

You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”

And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture. 

“She’s a natural, hun.”

“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”

“Damn right, she is.”

Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.

It’s all too much for him to take.

And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made. 

“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”

“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”

The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day. 

Time spent with his family.

Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.

“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return. 

“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”

“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[sheep-from-rad]

Note: This is supposed to be a whole headcanon fanfic for everyone but I lost the plot after my brain decided a weird headcanon about Jason.Also I’m eating crackers with leftover pasta sauce because I ran out of spaghetti noodles. Note Note: I’m using motorcycle laws from my country so I don’t know if it fits in your place Masterlist divider by: @strangergraphics and @strangergraphics-archive Also I have a question: If I write a Jason Todd x reader series, would you guys read it?

“This is ridiculous Todd. There is barely any room in this side car” Damian protested, arms crossed with a dark green helmet on. He sat near the sidecar’s mini door, trapping you between him, Jason, Tim and the motorbike’s engine as if fearing that you’ll jump off when on red light. 

You thought that running away from the mansion and starting anew was a power move. Well, it was a power move but you completely disregard the fact that your family is composed of vigilantes with a former MI6 agent as a butler. The moment they learnt that you left was the same moment they got your location and started dropping by like a bunch of stray cats at your doorsteps. 

It started with Jason becoming your roommate (it’s like he knows your rent hiked up and you need a roommate or you’ll be forced to take more shifts), Dick’s patrol change and frequent drop bys to restock the pantry and Tim becoming your classmate (he says the course intrigues him but you know he already had that course learnt before). Your nights aren’t safe as well, if you’re not being followed home and then you’re suddenly waking up in the middle of the night to find yourself being cuddled to sleep by Damian and Bruce. 

And when you thought it can’t get even more ridiculous, this month Jason came back to the apartment with one of his old motorbikes modified with a two-seater sidecar and more helmets. 

“I told you, Gotham laws only allow one backride and you’re a minor. You don’t even have classes today” Jason interjected. He made a quick turn in a safe alleyway to escape the traffic and while doing so his other hand reached to check the seatbelts on the carseat. “You got all your stuff right? I won’t be able to go back and forth now since I have a patrol waiting.” You only answered a lazy ‘yeah’  at his question. Ever since they learnt you leave, they came to your door and started playing siblings and honestly it just feels weird. Sure you pined for that bonding but doing it now when you already have your heart close. 

“Since when did you adhere to the laws and isn’t Drake a minor as well?”, Damian pointed at the sleepy Tim behind Jason’s back. The teen is strapped on Jason’s back with an adult version of a baby leash, drinking coffee and eating donuts you guys got from the drive thru. “Wait, do you even have a driver’s license?” 

“Well, I have Dick’s driver’s license and Tim can reach the foot peg of the bike.”

“(Name)” Jason called, making you stop from walking. Tim stopped as well, opting to wait for you so you two can walk together to class.

“What is it?” 

You turned around to find him pulling a couple of folded hundreds from his pocket and depositing it in your hand. “What is this for?” A bribe? Is he paying you because he wanted a ‘sibling bonding time’ again? 

“This month’s rent. Bruce already bought the apartment buildings so he wants you to have the month’s rent back” 

Well shit.

dang I got so used to writing in headcanons I forgot how to write reader dialogues.