#cass michaels

[avenger-nerd-mom]

Your new book cover? I see what you did... I pay attention to tags. "#character inspo." Kudos to you and your cover artist!

Your plus-size characters are amazing. Thank you for writing them for us. I've already made my pre-order!

Hey, Nonny!

I have no idea what you mean?

Is Rayaan Collins described as a handsome man with scruff and curly hair, often pulled back in a man bun?

YES

Does Rayaan have an affinity for the water and outdoor sports?

YES

Does Rayaan often let his hair down, just to pull it back?

YES

Does Rayaan have a protective, jealous streak when it comes to Andi Jennings?

YES

Does he look good in a suit?

YES

But I mean...

Rayaan really is NOTHING like my Muse! Why would you even suggest that?

My artist, MinaDot, simply did a wonderful job of creating a depiction of the character I described... See?

As for my plus-size characters, you're gonna love Andi! Her confidence inspires me, and I love her little quirks...

If you really think my Muse inspired this character, you'll just have to get Since Forever on Friday, and see for yourself!

mybook.to/SinceForever

Love,

CASS

#nonny #is that what inspired my new character? #character inspo #can yaman #writers of tumblr #coming soon #multicultural romance #plus size romance #second chance romance #romance novels #cass michaels #anm

[cassmichaels]

COMING SOON!

He’s the internet’s new boyfriend, but to her, he’s the one that got away. 

Successful journalist Andi Jennings has been sent to write a fluff piece about social media influencer Arin Collins, and she’s not happy about it. Back home, he’s the boy next door, her high school nemesis… And her former college sweetheart. 

While on assignment, Andi unexpectedly runs into Arin’s older brother, Rayaan. After all these years, Rayaan is still guiding Arin’s actions and behaviors- only this time, professionally, as his manager.

Andi hasn’t seen Rayaan in years, but their connection when they meet again is undeniable. Sparks fly in all directions as their families get together for fun on the lake, just like old times.

Barely able to wrap her head around the two handsome brothers vying for her attention, this plus-sized, independent woman is torn between the pull of her past relationship and the temptation of a new one.  Andi is faced with an impossible choice, one that could change everything. 

Available for pre-order!

mybook.to/SinceForever

May 12, 2023

Fantastic cover art by MinaDot!

#plussizeromance #romance #secondchance #girlnextdoor #steamy #multicultural

#romance #coming soon #plus size romance #romance novels #second chances #writers of tumblr #book promo #romance books #multicultural romance #cass michaels

[dcsnextgaycharacter]

#stephanie brown #cass cain #cassandra cain #stephcass #batman #batfam #batfamily #ted kord #blue beetle #booster gold #michael carter #michael jon carter #boostle #beatriz da costa #fire #tora olafsdotter #ice #beatora #jli #justice league international #dc #dcu #dc comics #poll

[mediumgayitalian]

part two

———

Getting outrun for seven miles by an eight year old is a uniquely humbling experience. Compactly humiliating, coincidentally, is being outrun by an eight year old while dragging along a bouquet large enough that it cannot be adequately contained with two hands and must therefore be carried between two people.

Lee is having something of an afternoon.

“It starts in seven minutes!” shouts Will, at least twelve solid yards ahead of them and running backwards. He does not appear even to be sweating. “Hurry!”

“Could not be hurrying more if I tried,” Lee wheezes.

(It’s not that Lee isn’t a good runner. He is. It’s that Will is freakishly fast, because he has dimples when he smiles and has endeared himself to the dryads, who have been teaching him how to sprint like the hopped up little Energizer Bunny he is. Michael has been calling him Soda Boy for ages, on account of how he so closely resembles a can of pop that has been vigorously shaken, which he hates. Remembering it brings Lee some peace.)

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

Clamping his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to preserve energy, Lee surges forward. Michael matches him, having to run significantly faster to keep up with his long legs. Their panting forms a discordant melody of despair. Poetic.

When they stumble through the door, chests heaving, Lee considers collapsing to the ground and weeping for joy. He will never run again. If a monster chases him, he will simply fight or accept his fate. He has reached his quota.

But, for perhaps the first time in his life, there is no time for dramatics. The lobby is devoid of the massive crowds it held earlier, shadows eerie in their absence, and only the final tail end of a line shuffles through the stage doors.

Despite his internal vow, Lee sprints forward to catch up with them.

“Hold it,” says a man in a venue volunteer! vest, holding up a hand. He glances at them, resting his gaze on Will’s messy hair, Michael’s scuffed shoes, Lee’s wrinkled shirt, and pausing for quite a while on the giant bouquet. The narrowed eyes and thinned lips are familiar. Lee stiffens.

“Go on in,” the man says to the middle aged couple in front of them, who’s crease-free jackets read ‘Dance Mom’ and ‘Prop Team Dad’ respectively. He shoos them inside, complimenting the honest-to-Apollo corsage in the woman’s hand, chortling along to the man’s joke. The laughter drops from his face the second the couple is guided through the doors, and the man turns back to the three of them.

“The show,” he says, nose upturned, “has begun. I can’t let anyone else in lest they cause any…disturbances.”

“The show starts on three minutes and forty-seven seconds!” Will protests, sticking his watch in the man’s face. Completely oblivious to his murderous look, he continues, “Forty-six seconds! Forty-five! Time’s-a-tickin’, let us in!”

The man bares his teeth in a smile. “Regrettably, you are too late. You’ll have to wait for the intermission.”

Will blinks at him. He looks at Lee, at the doors, then back at the man.

“But…we’re on time. And if we come back later, we’ll miss my sister’s dance!”

The man shrugs. “This will be a valuable lesson, then.” He purses his lips, glancing again at the bouquet. “Perhaps be more prepared, next time.”

Will turns back to Lee and Michael, crestfallen. He swipes quickly under his eyes, squeezing his thumb into fists, but the tears well up anyway. “We’re going to miss it?”

Michael snarls. In one quick move he shoves the massive bouquet entirely into Lee’s arms, yanks Will by the shoulders to stand behind him, and gets right in the man’s face.

“You listen here, you slimy ratbag, you had no fuckin’ trouble letting those last scragglers in so you better clean up your act quick before I —”

A loud crashing noise makes them all jump, interrupting him. Nearly crushing the flowers, Lee whips towards the source of the sound. One of the competition banners has been yanked down, metal frame collapsing on the tile floor. Fastening screws rattle to a slow stop beside it.

“What the —”

Another banner crashes to the floor. This time, the little hands that tore it down are a touch too slow to dart away, a blonde head not quick enough to duck behind a corner.

“Hey!” the man shouts. Shoving Michael aside, and moving quicker than Lee can think to stop him, he sprints towards the corner Will disappeared behind. “Get back here! You can’t do that!”

Lee curses, trying to manoeuvre the flowers to see and run at the same time. Michael runs ahead of him, on the man’s heels, chanting shit shit shit shit under his breath. Lee’s brain takes the initiative to alternate, chanting fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time he takes a breath.

They’re going to get kicked out for sure. Diana is going to kill them and it’s going to be justified, because Lee is going to have to live with the noble look he knows Cass will have on when she realises they’re not there to watch. The shakey, practiced smile she’ll slap over the disappointment in her dark eyes.

Shit shit shit shit indeed.

“Lee! Michael! Over here!” whispers a voice. Lee whirls around to face it — boy does he ever feel like a puppet on a stick right now — and, for the second time in as many minutes, feels his head pound at the disorienting frenzy of emotions that bubble up when he sees his baby brother’s face. Will stands half inside a doorway Lee hadn’t noticed on the way in, tucked in the shadow of a corner.

He is fast, holy shit.

“What the hell are you doing,” hisses Michael.

“Getting us inside! Hurry up!”

Lee doesn’t need further prompting, clock ticking in his brain. Gods, how long do they have left? Thirty seconds? Less?

“Most big theatres have sideline entrances,” Will explains after Michael helps shove the giant bouquet through the tiny door. He guides them, upright to their hunching, down a tight corridor. “They’re for performers to pop up in the audience without being seen. Mama and I race each other to find ‘em when she did shows.”

Lee had forgotten, for a moment, how much of his life Will has spent in and out of theatres, bars, stages. Naomi Solace has been growing more and more famous since…half of his life, at least. Lee remembers hearing about her four years ago, when she’d done a smaller show in Queens. A friend of his had gone.

Michael reaches out and tugs the mostly-undone ponytail he’d wrestled Will’s hair into that morning. “Good job, kid.”

He grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

They stumble into the darkened audience in the nick of time. The second Lee steps out of the cramped little corridor, dragging the stupid flowers (he is, in fact, regretting his choices at this point in time; when he has a free moment he will add this to the list of reasons he will be kicking his past self’s ass if the Hephaestus cabin successfully recreates DeLorean time machine) along with him, the stage lights come on. An announcer’s voice calls out, “Entry 109, Competitive Open Solo: Cass Hasapi.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters. A quaint family of four gasps. He sneers at them. “Fuck, you see Diana?”

“No, is she maybe —”

“I think that’s her hair —”

“That person is way too tall, what are you —”

“I swear to the gods, I am going to kill you both,” whispers a beautifully familiar voice, and then Lee is being dragged. “Sit the hell down and shut the hell up. Will, baby, c’mere.”

Will climbs happily over the two empty seats, settling onto Diana’s lap and curling under her chin. He sticks his tongue out when Lee and Michael follow in behind him, struggling with the bouquet, muttering about favouritism.

“I’ve literally known you for six times longer than you’ve known him,” Michael mutters, sticking his tongue out right back. A grandmother with a severe bob whirls back and hushes him.

“Yeah, I’ve had all that time to get tired of your bullshit. Shut up.”

Before Michael can retort — Lee is sure he has an eloquent and devastating response, Lee has been helping him practice — soft piano drifts out from the speakers. A light turns on, pointed at the stage.

All four of them snap their mouths shut.

In the centre of the stage, Cass stands, poised. Her back is turned to the audience, arms extended above her and tilted to the right, as if reaching for the setting sun. Her hair, braided loosely back, brushes the edge of her thickly draping purple costume. Her knees are bent and locked and one bare foot sticks out like she’s trying to balance herself, like she’s mid fall.

A gravelly, male voice sings lowly along to the piano. How do you know which time might be the last? She moves along the dip of his voice, dragging her limbs through the rigid air. What I would give just to see you again? She moves with a swooping twist of her heels, twisting at the waist. Under the heat of the stage lights, her face contorts, forehead deeply wrinkled, mouth parted, breathing quickly. I’d walk to the depths of a world down below and demand to get back what some circumstance stole. She holds herself with such tension that Lee finds his own shoulders hiking up to his ears. Her chest moves rapidly, hands shaking, knees buckling. His breath goes stale in his lungs.

When the chorus starts, hard and heavy and sudden, I turned back one last time just to prove you were there, Cass hits the floor. He gasps with the rest of the audience, clutching the plush armrest, but it’s intentional, part of the dance. ‘Cause the last ray of sun made Eurydice cold. Collapsed on the floor, limbs bent, dress askew, she crawls, begging, towards the audience. Did she know? Did she know? Did she know? Did she know?

Cass does not move gracefully. She moves like a beached, gasping siren dragging herself back to the depths, like someone climbing out of a pit. Every movement looks heavy and painful. She looks at the audience and Lee is surging forward before he can stop himself, breath hitching, brain screaming: help her! help her! help her!

If I knew how it’d feel back then, I wouldn’t take another step.

Her body twists again, hair escaping her loose braid and sticking to her neck, her forehead. She claws at her throat like she’s suffocating, eyes accusing everyone watching like they’re holding her under. Each movement of her arms swell and sway on the beat, bare feet slapping the ground with every hit of the kettle drum. If you can see me it’s all in your head, but it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then.

Everything ends.

The piano fades out, the drums hit their last beat. All that’s left is the wretched guitar, taught like strings snapping, taught like the tense pull of her suspended muscles.

But I opened the door and went down the stairs; I turned back one last time to prove you were there.

As the last word fades, she drops. Not slowly, not evenly, but like whatever was holding her up crumbled to dust. Like she was shot. Her purple dress pools out around her like dark Hyacinth. She lays completely, entirely still.

The lights cut. The air in the audience goes heavy.

They come back on and no one says a word. Lee realises, as it drips onto his hands, that he is crying. Diana is, too, tear tracks too fresh to dry on her face, and Will is leaned forward so far he sways precariously. Michael’s hands are pressed harshly to his eyes.

Trancelike, Lee stands. All eyes snap, abruptly, towards him, but he ignores them. He looks straight across the rows of chairs and locks eyes with his sister, upright now, heaving, standing hesitant. She looks at him, and then beside him at Michael, and then at Will in Diana’s lap. They scramble quickly up next to him, and without any of them saying anything, they begin to cheer.

Cass’s face lights up.

With permission, much of the audience claps. No one stands as they do and as they continue hooting and hollering the claps fade quickly, replaced with stares and murmurs, but Cass still stands there, beaming, looking away and looking back like she can’t believe they’re there. That someone is there, that someone watched her, her, from beginning to end. A hand tugs on his sleeve.

“Can I sonic?” Will asks, raising his voice to be heard.

“Level four,” Lee allows.

He needs no further permission, grinning. He lets out a piercing whistle that makes everyone around them shout in alarm and Lee’s ears ring. But Cass laughs, loud and bright, so it’s worth it, and when Will looks at him in question he nods. The second whistle is definitely beyond a level four, but Lee doesn’t care. Cass looks the happiest he’s seen in a long time.

———

None of them care too much about staying for the other performances. But Cass has two more dances with her studio classes, spread out as they are, so Lee remains doomed to two hours of an aching ass and performances that come nowhere near Cass’s masterpiece. Will seems intrigued, though, by some of the pieces, so he grits his teeth and bares it. Besides, the rolled eyes he shares with Diana and Michael every time someone does something exceedingly cliche or tries and fails at depth (someone, often, being one of Cass’s teammates, shocker) makes it somewhat worth it.

By the time the judges call the last entry, though, Lee is ready to book it out of there.

The lights come back on and pop music plays through the speakers as dancers, in track suits over their costumes, congregate on the stage. Lee stands and stretches, letting Will stand on his shoulders and jump off into Michael’s arms to get some of his energy out. (And, also, ‘cause tossing a small child between them is fun. Diana jogs into the aisle so they can throw farther, but they all decide against it when a security guard glances over.)

After what feels like eight million years, the judges finally lumber over to the stage. The building voices hush as they climb the steps, standing in front of the gathered studios with cabled mics and stacks of foreboding envelopes.

“Welcome, dancers and families,” starts one judge.

She blabs on for several minutes about what an honour it was to judge and how wonderful everyone was. Blah, blah, blah. Lee spaces out about the time Diana’s eyes glaze over, and he looks instead to the gathered stage, observing. There are five different studios that he can see, each with about forty to fifty dancers. Mostly young women. They sit tangled together, legs on legs, arms around shoulders, feet tucked under thighs. Cass, he notices, sits on her own, at the very back of the stage. She sits straight-backed and proud, though. Chin lifted, braid resting over her shoulder.

Impossible to miss.

Two of her group dances win Diamond (Diana explains to them that this is Very Good. She thinks). Most others do not get this honour. Lee notices especially the older couple to their left looking quite sour. The glee he feels is indescribable.

“The winner for our open solo, for all age groups, was actually unanimous. It’s been a while since that happened!”

A girl near the front of the stage, who Lee recognises as the one to make a cruel joke about Cass’ mother, preens. Her solo was boring as hell. He’s not sure what she’s so smug about.

“With a score of 97.6, congratulations to Entry 109, Cass Hasapi!”

The four of them scream like lunatics.

They don’t even wait for scattered applause. Each one of them clambers up on the pristine chairs, covering them with scuff marks, and yell at the top of their lungs, jumping and cheering like chimps in a cage. Cass goes red, but she can’t hide her smile as she stands and accepts her award, grinning over at them. Michael holds up his camera and snaps a photo of her, pink-cheeked and wild-haired, glowing.

———

“Cass!”

Will sees her before the rest of them, sprinting towards the changeroom doors at top speeds and leaping up into her arms. She catches him easily, spinning them both around, pressing a thousand kisses to his hair and face.

“Hello, my darling! Hello hello hello!” Every word is punctuations with a kiss, or rather a press of her wide smile to anywhere she can reach. In seconds his cheeks are stained with her lipstick. “Oh, it has been weeks, darling boy, I missed you!”

Will clings to her sweater, face buried in the crook of her neck. She holds him just as tightly.

(Will has seen Cass more than Lee, in the past few months. He knows she’s made a few sudden trips to camp. But he also knows that she was the first one to welcome him into camp, the day his mother dropped him off, and when he was claimed she was the first to bring him home. She loves to tote him around, too, to have him trail after her for cabin inspections, holding the clipboard, or paint his nails when she’s bored. He misses her something fierce in the winters. She holds on tightly when she comes back home.)

Squeezing him one last time, she turns to the rest of them. Despite her wide smile, her mascara runs.

“You came,” she says, voice wobbling.

Michael clears his throat. “No shit.”

His voice wobbles, too.

“Come here, you goober.”

He’s the next to cling to her, inserting himself under her arm. She presses a kiss to his temple and he pinches her ribs, complaining, getting louder when she digs a knuckle into his hair. Diana jogs up and separates them, as she always does, flicking Michael on the forehead and pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.

Cass’s tears spill over again. “Thank you.”

Lee clears his throat. He feels, suddenly, like a doofus, holding a bouquet of flowers the size of him, but Cass looks at them and grins again, chuckling.

“You sell your kidney for that or what?”

Lee snorts. “No, we exchanged Will. This is a clone.”

“Did not!”

Lee blows a raspberry. “Did too. Clone.”

“I’m not a clone! I’m me!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ya-huh!”

“Alright,” Cass interrupts, rolling her eyes fondly. She kisses the tip of Will’s nose again and sets him down, turning towards Lee, hands outstretched dramatically. “Hand me my dues.”

Because she is, at the core of her, a true daughter of Apollo, even though the amount of poise and grace that bleeds from her at any given time contradicts almost directly with the guy who beams Pocketful of Sunshine directly into their brains at five in the morning every single day without fail, she kneels with a flourish. Because Lee is, at the core of him, also a child of Apollo, he goes unquestioningly along with the bit, pulling out one of the flowers to knight her before resting the entire bouquet in her arms. She has to hold it with both hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, grinning.

“They are ridiculous,” Diana stresses. “Dumbasses were damn near late getting this for you. They already had flowers, mind you. They’re just dumb.”

Will holds up his hand with his watch. “I kept us from being late!”

Diana squishes his cheek. “Thank you, sweetpea. You’re already smarter than your brothers combined.”

“Stick out your tongue again and I’ll grab it, you little snitch,” Lee warns.

Will, darting to hide behind Diana, does not heed his warning. Because he’s a little shit. bc

The walk out of the building in a gaggle of movement. As other dancers and their families walk by, glowering at Cass’ flowers and at Cass in general, Lee makes a point to catch their eyes. To smirk. To let them know, without saying a word — you were wrong. Of course you were wrong. Look at how she’s better than your bitter ass without even trying.

It warms him inside, truly.

“I’m thinking,” Diana says, walking back to the car, “that we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home. On Michael’s dollar. Will, look real excited so Michael can’t say no.”

“I am excited,” Will says, turning to face him, “so that’s real easy.”

Michael sighs. He taps his foot on the pavement, glaring. He sighs again. “You’re getting s plain cone and that’s that. You understand me?”

Will takes that as code for ‘begin negotiating’. Diana joins him, the two of them chasing Michael to the car, yelling about Blizzards and sundaes. Cass falls into step next to Lee, adjusting the flowers.

“So,” she says, shooting him a small smile.

“So,” he intones.

“Diana told me you snuck the boys out of camp.”

“…Yes.”

“Organised the whole trip, basically.”

“It wasn’t hard. I just told Michael to pack his shit and he listened, for once. So.”

“Lee.” She waits for him to open the trunk, letting him stuff the ridiculous flowers inside before facing him, grabbing his hands and squeezing. “Thank you.”

“I don’t —”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. How can he say it? How can he tell her about being fourteen and older than half the unclaimed kids in Hermes, still reeling over camp as a whole, and the fear that had dissipated from his chest when she stood in front of camp and said, firmly, he’s ours? About the hours she spent listening to him ramble about Pokémon, learning the game for him, mailing him cards she finds around? About the letters she sends him every week without fail, even though she’s swamped with her own shit, because she remembers the night he cried, months and years of being weird and lonely and unlike anyone else he knew? How can he explain the bubbling in his chest, the ache for her, because of her?

“Of course, Cass.”

She opens her arms and he falls into them, forehead on her shoulder, arms tight around her waist. She grips around his back, pressing a kiss to his hair. His throat is dry, choking back the thickness of his tears.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Lee.”

#AND WERE DONE #AND ITS FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING FUCK #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #lee fletcher #will solace #michael yew #diana mckinney #cass hasapi #cabin seven #my writing #fic #longpost #song is orpheus by vincent lima btw #pjo hoo toa

[bingqiv]

this is because whenever an afab person in history shows (what we would classify as) a hint of being a trans man, history consistently misgenders them and states that they cosplayed as a man because they existed in a patriarchal society.

also the term transfeminate was coined in the 1656 which was predominantly described people transitioning from women to men. but sure we didn’t exist back then.

#stop infantilising and making trans man invisible challenge #james marinos albert michael i am so sorry #i need to stop reading this because it’s getting me fired up and angry #cass report #ftm #transgender #transgender history #trans history #trans men

[crayonverse]

Somebody get those kids outta the bear

Couldn’t be bothered including GF kid from the movie rip </3

Had fun with the ibis paint filters. Real cool!

#fnaf #cw eyestrain #eyestrain #eyestrain Cw #fnaf Cassidy #fnaf vengeful spirit #fnaf Andrew #fnaf toyshnk #fnaf bite victim #fnaf crying child #fnaf Devon #fnaf Kelsey #fnaf Michael brooks #fnaf golden freddy #fnaf golden group #also had a lot of fun making each of them have a dif theme towards gf #cass has a headband #mike has the ears and tophat #kelsey has the bow tie #Andrew has the whole head #Devon’s ear is chipped #bv doesn’t have anything

[thislovintime]

Photo 1 by Michael Ochs Archives; photo 2 from The Monkees Monthly; photos 3 & 4 by Chuck Boyd.

“[In the morning] you’ll find Micky and Davy performing an impromptu duet on ‘She,’ Peter catching 40 winks on a couch whole props are shoved around him and Mike answering the phone. The props and lighting set for a scene and the call goes out: ‘Okay, let’s have the first team in.’ Mike, Micky, Peter and Davy collectively assembled, the scene is shot, changes made and re-shot. The off-camera antics of the Monkees are roughly those you see on-screen, with lines tossed back and forth, ideas exchanged, opinions voiced and faces twisted into all sorts of contortions. […] In a corner about as far away from the confusion as it is possible to get, Mike and Peter with guitars in hand are going over the music they’re set to play in the next scene and Micky has claimed the couch for his turn at catching a few winks while he can. […] Lunch break over, the cast and crew re-assembles and the visitors grow in number as four or five different groups of fans are admitted onto the set. Davy and Peter sing ‘Don’t Let The Sun Catch You Crying’ for their visitors and Mama Cass pops her head in and is soon in the midst of conversation with Peter. And so it goes. Scenes are set up, shot, reshot and sent on their way to be printed.” - Louise Criscione, KRLA Beat, February 11, 1967

“Of all the four Monkees, Peter’s ‘irreverence’ is perhaps the most articulate. His convictions seem deeper and stronger. And all of them, in his mind, properly reasoned out to unshakable conclusions. The son of a Connecticut college professor, Peter is a walking encyclopedia of knowledge about classical and pop music. He composes, and plays four instruments fluently. He abandoned an earlier ambition to become an English teacher after flunking the courses twice. His mother, active in local Little Theater groups, introduced him to drama. ‘I don’t remember it,’ Peter said, ‘but when I was about four, with my parents in Germany, we went to a band concert. Nothing would quiet me until I had held the baton and led the band. ‘My parents were only-child type adults and their attitude when I was a baby and demanded attention, was, “Let him cry, he’ll get over it.” As a result I’ve always felt a slightly abnormal need for extra affection. Until I was twenty, my life was overwhelmed by the pressures of discipline. The informality of The Monkees and the popularity of the show satisfies me. ‘I’ll stay with The Monkees as long as I’m needed, as long as I’m wanted. We don’t agree on everything on or off the cameras, but as a group we get along.’" - article by Lou Larkin, Photoplay, September 1967 (read more in an older post)

#Peter Tork #Davy Jones #Michael Nesmith #Micky Dolenz #The Monkees #Monkees #Tork quotes #60s Tork #Cass Elliott #Louise Circione #The Monkees Season 1 #long read #Peter and Davy #Peter and Micky #Peter and Michael #episodes: Monkee Mother #can you queue it

[womeninfictionandirl]

Cassandra Cain by Michael Lark

#Michael Lark #Cassandra Cain #cass Cain #batgirl #black bat #orphan #batfam #batfamily #art #artwork #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #dc superheroes #dc heroes #dc heroines #dc superheroines

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Sammy Gecsoyler

Published: Apr 21, 2024

The doctor behind a landmark review of the NHS’s gender identity services for children and young people has said fears had been raised about her personal safety amid online abuse after the report’s release.

Dr Hilary Cass told the Times she wished to address the “disinformation” circulating about the findings and recommendations handed down by the Cass review when it was published on 10 April.

She said she had received online abuse in the wake of the report and had been advised to stop using public transport.

The report said the evidence base for gender medicine in young people had been thin and children had been let down by a “toxic” public discourse around gender.

Cass told the Times: “I have been really frustrated by the criticisms, because it is straight disinformation. It is completely inaccurate.

“It started the day before the report came out when an influencer posted a picture of a list of papers that were apparently rejected because they were not randomised control trials.

“That list has absolutely nothing to do with either our report or any of the papers.”

Referring to the online abuse she had received, she said: “There are some pretty vile emails coming in at the moment, most of which my team is protecting me from, so I’m not getting to see them.”

She added: “I’m not going on public transport at the moment, following security advice, which is inconvenient.”

The report said the now shuttered Gender Identity Development Service (Gids) at the Tavistock and Portman NHS Foundation Trust, the only NHS gender identity development service for children in England and Wales, used puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones despite “remarkably weak evidence” that they improved the wellbeing of young people and concern they may harm health.

The report recommended that young people struggling with their gender identity should be screened to detect neurodevelopmental conditions and there should be an assessment of their mental health, because some who seek help with their gender identity may also have anxiety or depression, for example.

When the report was released, Cass stressed that her findings were not intended to undermine the validity of trans identities or challenge people’s right to transition, but rather to improve the care of the fast-growing number of children and young people with gender-related distress.

NHS England has since announced a second Cass review-style appraisal of adult gender clinics. Cass confirmed to the Times that she would not take part in the adult report after the abuse she suffered in recent weeks.

She said: “You heard it right here: I am not going to do the adult gender clinic review.”

--

==

"If someone doesn't value evidence, what evidence are you going to provide to prove that they should value it? If someone doesn’t value logic, what logical argument could you provide to show the importance of logic?" -- Sam Harris

These gender ideologues are cultists. There's no science, no evidence, no reasoning that would convince them of reality, because they don't believe based on science, evidence or reality. They believe entirely on ideology and faith. Nothing will convince them that, wait, perhaps we got this wrong? Is there something we missed? Could this have gotten out of hand? Is there information we don't know about?

They don't care.

They do not care.

They don't care about truth. They don't care about people. They don't care about kids; they just use them as a shield from criticism. They don't care about anyone. They only care about their ideology of gender revolution and "queering" the world, no matter the cost, no matter who gets hurt along the way.

Never ever forget and never ever forgive. Make sure these lunatics are as notorious in history as Mengele and Lysenko.

#Leor Sapir #Dr. Hilary Cass #Hilary Cass #Cass Review #Cass Report #gender cult #disinformation #medical corruption #medical scandal #medical mutilation #gender affirming care #gender affirming healthcare #gender affirmation #queer theory #gender identity ideology #gender ideology #intersectional feminism #religion is a mental illness #Alejandra Caraballo #Erin Reed #Michael Hobbes #Evan Urquhart #pathological liars #known liars #gender fanatics #gender reckoning

[nfcomics]

BATGIRLS no.17 • cover art • David Marquez [April 2023]

Nothing says spring like the Aparo Park Spring Jubilee—live music, good food, and besties Cass Cain and Steph Brown unwinding after a long day of Batgirling. But the day turns sour quickly when snipers Gunbunny and Gunhawk appear on the scene . . . why are they here, and who are they targeting? It's up to the Batgirls to protect their fellow Hills residents and find the snipers before anyone gets hurt.

(W) Becky Cloonan, Michael W. Conrad (A) Robbi Rodriguez (CA) David Marquez

#BATGIRLS no.17 #David Marquez #Robbi Rodriguez #Night Flight Comics #Comic Mail Orders #Gotham #NFComics #Becky Cloonan #Michael W. Conrad #Cass Cain #Batgirls #Steph Brown #Gunbunny #Gunhawk #Gotham City

[avenger-nerd-mom]

In case you didn't know-

All the posts I've had the last year with "character inspo" and photos and gifs of the HOT Turkish actor, Can Yaman-

That book is now available! It's sweet and steamy-

Which is a little problem...

The Zon has started to crack down on independent authors and their content. If books are marked 'erotica' or 'not suitable for readers under 18,' book titles and authors are not popping up on general searches on that website. The Zon has even limited regions of the world where books with those designations can even be sold- for example, even though both of the male characters in Since Forever are Indian, the book can't be purchased in India!

So even though I've got this great romance (I might be biased), readers can't FIND it unless they know about it.

So if you found my Can posts, or if you supported me when I wrote fan fiction, please share this post!

Up and coming artist, MinaDot, created the commission artwork for the cover. Honestly it brings tears to my eyes every time I see it!

Since Forever

He’s the internet’s new boyfriend, but to her, he’s the one that got away.

Successful journalist Andi Jennings has been sent to write a fluff piece about social media influencer Arin Collins, and she’s not happy about it. Back home, he’s the boy next door, her high school nemesis… And her former college sweetheart.

While on assignment, Andi unexpectedly runs into Arin’s older brother, Rayaan. After all these years, Rayaan is still guiding Arin’s actions and behaviors- only this time, professionally, as his manager.

Andi hasn’t seen Rayaan in years, but their connection when they meet again is undeniable. Sparks fly in all directions as their families get together for fun on the lake, just like old times.

Barely able to wrap her head around the two handsome brothers vying for her attention, this plus-sized, independent woman is torn between the pull of her past relationship and the temptation of a new one. Andi is faced with an impossible choice, one that could change everything.

***

Thank you for all the support you've shown me over the years! This story has a lot of special meaning to me and I'd love for more readers to find it. It has my signature sassy, curvy girl main character, and devilishly handsome love interests. It's got heat in just the right places, and you can read it all on the page.

A perfect HOT summer read!

Love,

Cass

Since Forever

#can yaman #character inspo #support writers #writers of tumblr #romance books #romance novels #amazon #indie author #share the love #cass michaels #since forever #anm

[cassmichaels]

Meet Andi Jennings, cat mom and former political journalist. A new assignment sends her home, back into the lives of the Collins brothers- one her ex, the other she dreamed about... But now she has the confidence she didn't have at 16...

mybook.to/SinceForever

#romance #coming soon #plus size romance #multicultural romance #writers of tumblr #cass michaels

[dcsnextgaycharacter]

#cassandra cain #cass cain #michael carter #michael jon carter #booster gold #batgirl #black bat #orphan #jli #justice league international #batman #batfam #dc #dcu #dc comics #poll

[mediumgayitalian]

i was in the car today, and i started thinking about Lee and then i got really, really emotional

no dude i want to write about them so bad. i have character charts. if i can figure out how to draw (unlikely) i would have art. i have fic ideas. i want to delve into a whole ass universe of the pre-tlt apollo kids. so many of them…..

#in particular cass diana lee and michael #my beloved #ofc i love the oldest ones best bc i’m biased but #dear god i want to write about them so badly #and naomi…… #naomi solace i love you #ask

[hearts4juzi]

modern au where the afton kids deal with william being more and more negligent and focused on his work so they have to figure out how to be fuctional enough to take care of themselves and each other do you hear me ugruguhrg

#if i did anything with this #itd have seperate arcs for each afton kid involving all kidns of characters #like evan might have an arc with greg n cass #michael would have a very very very self indulgent arc #and idk about lizzie but thered be a lot of focus on her distance from her brothers

[scover-va]

Finished day 12 (vengeance) a day late because i got wrist pain yesterday and also bc I procrastinated 🫶

#scov.art #fnaf #miiilowo fnaftober #fnaf: hauntings of the past au #michael afton #this kinda looks like ass but i DO like the pose do idc #never ask me to draw an axe right btw. i refuse. /j #tw eyestrain #maybe. idk. adding just in cass #* case. oops