ows anniversary


Remembering Vincent Price on the anniversary of his death.

(May 27th 1911 — October 25th 1993)

We may all be a peculiar lot…often broke, often dissatisfied because we’re not doing more and better work…but we know how to have a ball that makes the rest of the world seem square.”

Love Me Tender

Jason Todd x Reader

So this was initially going to be part of the Christmas Challenge, but I decided to change it up. This is a birthday present for my bestie @hey-haylee. She wanted slow dancing to Elvis with Jason at Christmas. 

Words: 771

Christmas time at Wayne Manor has always been breathtaking, and this year is no exception. You wonder how long it takes to actually get all of the trees and lights and garland put up, as everything is so perfectly placed.

This year Bruce had decided to host a Christmas gala on Christmas Eve. The guest list is smaller than usual: Bruce’s children plus some of his friends from the Justice League, all of whom you had become friends with in the five years of your dating Jason.

Jason’s hand is wrapped around your waist as you walk into the ballroom. “I still can’t believe you managed to get out of patrol tonight,” you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, since I missed our anniversary, Bruce owed me a favor. So I took Christmas Eve off,” he looks down at you with a sincere eyes. “I’m still sorry about that.”

“It’s fine now. Just know that I’m not sorry for kicking you out of the bedroom for a month afterwards,” you laugh.

“Not at all,” he laughs with you and sweeps you on the dance floor just as the song ends. The band starts to play a song you recognize, and Jason starts to sway in time to the music.

“Love me tender. Love me sweet. Never let me go,” Jason sings low enough that only you can hear him and stares deeply into your eyes as the band plays. For a moment it feels as though it’s only the two of you in the ballroom. “Never let me go. You have made my life complete, and I love you so.”

You smile up at him. It’s not unusual for him to sing to you—he has a surprisingly beautiful voice. But somehow it seems different this time. More sincere.

“Love me tender. Love me true, all my dreams fulfilled,” he pulls you closer to him so he can sing softly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “For my darling I love you, and I always will.”

Suddenly he stops dancing and starts frantically patting his suit coat.

“Jason! What are you doing?” you hiss and eye the giant Christmas tree beside you. “We are in the middle of the ballroom.”

“Take me to your heart. For it’s there that I belong, and we’ll never part,” the band keeps playing.

“Sorry, babe, but I can’t find my phone,” he says with a furrowed brow. He keeps sticking his hands in the pockets of his coat and pants in search of his phone.

“Why do you need your phone right now? We were dancing! And having a beautiful time!” you ask in exasperation.

“Roy is out on a mission. I need to call and make sure he hasn’t levelled an entire city block,” he answers. He still won’t look at you as he keeps searching for his phone.

“Jason Peter Todd, this was supposed to be a nice evening where you leave the Red Hood at home. That includes Arsenal,” you fuss and scan the ballroom. Nobody seems to mind that the two of you have stopped in the middle of the dance floor; they just keep dancing around you.

“For my darling, I love you, and I always will.”

If you weren’t so frustrated, you would laugh at the irony of Barry slow dancing with Iris. Bruce is having what appears to be a cheery conversation with Clark. Next to the buffet table you spot a familiar red head with a baseball cap wearing a suit. You narrow your eyes at the man. “Jason,” you say looking back at your boyfriend. “Roy is over there—”

You gasp at the sight of Jason on one knee holding a small black box. He takes your hand before you can say anything else. “Y/N, I was a mess before I met you. You have fulfilled my dreams and completed my life. You will always belong in my heart, and I hope I belong in yours. Will you marry me?”

You nod when words fail, happy tears blurring your vision. “Yes,” you manage to choke out. “Yes, of course!”

“Tell me you are mine. I’ll be yours through all the years till the end of time.”

He grins and slides the ring on your finger before pulling you into a tight embrace. He kisses you with more love and passion than he ever has before. The audible “Aww” from all of your friends doesn’t register in your mind. Right now the only people in the world are you and Jason.

“For my darling, I love you. And I always will.”


10 Arrests in 87 Minutes: The Anatomy of the NYPD’s Protest Dispersal Process

Do you homework; Fight strong 

“The spectacle of the arrest is a tactical display of force”

OWS and the Art of Possible

Once upon a time, I was a girl who believed that the only way to make the biggest change in the world was to go to college, major in social work or some variation, get a degree, get a job, and THEN begin working my path.

Despite my good intentions and diligence, it never worked out that way for me. Life threw me a bunch of banana peels; instead of walking forward and steady on my path like a soldier, I undulated back and forth and sideways like a dancer.

It wasn’t until Occupy Wall Street that I discovered that to make real, effective change in your community and in the world – you simply have to walk your talk. You do not need a career or a degree to do so. You make it an artful, meaningful, part of your life. You join advocacy groups, grassroots political movements, volunteer, write op-eds, create flyers and blogs, have discussions with your friends and family, educate. Yes the work is unpaid, but it sure feels good to be part of a collective conversation and to put your beliefs into real, physical and meaningful action.  

Advocating for things that you believe in takes gusto and the people in the streets protesting deserve a lot of credit for putting their physical bodies on the line like that. As a single mother, I have to consider the risks involved with protesting. Instead, I’ve turned to writing, joining advocacy groups, working within the Texas Green Party (a platform which, I believe, forms the essence of OWS political action) and volunteering my skills as a photographer and artist. I hope to go deeper, I hope to go international, I hope to open schools. That last goal is important – it’s the point where my twisting, turning career path intersects with my political and social ideals.

At the end of the day, I can look my daughter in the face knowing that I am doing what I can to fight for HER generation and her FUTURE, her WORLD. There is a well-known quote among progressives - “Politics is the art of the possible.” We are here to make our ideals possible, to make a new world possible.